#if not with him just with someone who might actually see me and love me again

[twenty-qs]

You know, one of my favorite under-the-radar interactions in Arcane is actually between Jayce and Vi.

On paper they have…literally nothing in common. One’s the golden boy science nerd, plastered all over Piltover as the symbol of progress, who has actively made decisions on the Council that made life in Zaun worse. One’s a bruiser who cut her teeth on the streets of Zaun, and then prison, as Piltover did its very best to forget she ever existed. They’ve had maybe, like, one actual conversation, in which Vi called him ‘pretty boy’ and Jayce looked deeply uncomfortable. But against all odds—they get along like a house on fire. I think Jayce is the only one Vi would have accepted weapons made of Hextech from; and I think Vi (and Caitlyn, but Vi came first) was the only person other than himself that Jayce would have made Hextech weapons for. They’re so in sync that they literally coordinate battle moves on the fly without needing to exchange a word. It might strike you as weird, at first. It’s just so improbable.

But it makes sense. Because the way they make decisions is almost the same—emotion. Impulse. Punch first, think later. Do what you think is right, and don’t wait for the world to give you permission, because it never will. They trust their gut and make snap decisions. And because the world of Arcane is morally gray, they usually regret it.

Which makes me think that some of the strongest parallels in this new season might actually be between Vi and Jayce. Arcane is about change. The price of change; the promises and dangers of change; and how people change, too. Vi and Jayce have been relatively stable character-wise. They change their minds about things, circumstances around them change, but at least at the end of s2e3, they’re still very recognizably themselves. Still punch first, think later. But the people around them have been undergoing extreme transformations.

Powder is now Jinx. Vi spent the entire first season refusing to see this, then failing to understand this. At the start of season 2, she still can’t reconcile the two in her mind—she can only conceive of them as literally two different people. Powder is dead. (I killed her.) All that’s left is Jinx. (I created her.) But the truth is that Jinx is still her little sister, is still the girl who was once Powder. Powder didn’t die—she changed.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn in season 2 is having a cataclysmic change because of her trauma and grief. The Caitlyn Vi fell in love with was brave, precise, determined—and fundamentally kind. She traded her gun away for medicine to save Vi’s life. She didn’t even hesitate. But now, all of that laser focus is being bent on revenge. Caitlyn has become increasingly single-minded, narrow-viewed, her world reduced to the target in her sniper’s scope. If you’re an obstacle, she’ll simply shoot right through you. She promised Vi she wouldn’t change, and then she hit Vi and abandoned her the moment Vi got in the way. Season 1 Caitlyn would never do that.

Vi struggles with change. She never seems to quite—grasp it. Doesn’t understand how the Undercity has changed while she was locked up, stagnant, an insect trapped in amber. She loves people with a sort of nostalgic glow. What the show forces Vi to reckon with is how far she’s willing to love someone before they’ve changed too much. She thinks it’s over with Jinx. She says she doesn’t consider Jinx as her sister anymore. But they are, they’re still sisters, of course they are. Jinx knows this. Jinx loves her sister, even now. Which means there might still be something in her for Vi to love too. But with Caitlyn, is there anything left of the kind girl who gave Vi her freedom and treated her with compassion? Can Vi still love the dictator literally waging war against her people? Should she? (Could she even stop loving Caitlyn if she wanted to?)

Jayce’s arc is just beginning in season 2, so I’m not sure which direction he’s heading in. But the parallels are already showing up. Is Viktor still in there, or is he dead? (Did I kill him?) Is it just the Hexcore using his body now, a monster that must be stopped? (Did I create him?) Jayce, too, might soon be forced to decide if he can still love someone who’s changed past the point of recognition. Or whether he should.

All this is to say that I hope we get more Vi and Jayce interactions this season. And that it’s definitely not a coincidence that we got two divorces back to back.

[xreader-writing]

Someone better | LN4 and FC43

Prologue

Sumarry: Lando is treating his girl badly, but thank God one Argentine is more than happy to do everything he doesn't do.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto X Driver!Reader | Lando Norris X Driver!Reader

WC:1.265

(WARNINGS:) Abusive relationship, manipulation, machismo, sexism, Lando is a complete idiot here, sorry! 😔

A/N: Since Y/n is Brazilian (And in Brazil we speak Portuguese and not Spanish) Franco and she will speak English to each other most of the time, okay?

How do you realize you're in an abusive relationship? When do you realize? Do you... Do you realize it?

Is it when it gets more violent? Or is it already extreme?

Lando isn't violent, but he is aggressive, that always confuses Y/n.

She's only 21, for God's sake, she got her place in F1 this year when she was called up to replace Checo for the entire 2024 season, yes, she signed with Redbull and is now partnered with Max Verstappen

When she started her relationship with Lando, it was very different, well, I think that's the problem with an abusive relationship, you only realize it when it's too late, and sometimes, unfortunately, you don't even realize it.

Lando was handsome, sweet, affectionate and fun, it was impossible not to fall in love with him, but...

Y/n thinks she can remember the first time he acted strangely.

It was when she was in P1 for the first time, Max was in P2 and Charles got P3, she remembers trying to greet Lando, but he walked right past her, making her feel completely embarrassed with so many cameras filming the event.

"He's just frustrated and tired." That's what she thought.

To make matters worse, Lando didn't go to celebrate with her, only God knows where that boy got himself into that night, but she doesn't want to think about it too much.

That was supposed to be her moment, but he managed to ruin everything.

"Enjoy your night, you deserve it so much." She remembers Chales saying that with his hand on her shoulder and a comforting smile.

After a few days he simply went back to normal without saying a single word about it, as if he hadn't broken her heart into little pieces.

The second time it was actually Max who noticed it, well, he adopted Y/n as his little sister, and he really loved her as if she were.

He was in the paddock when he arrived at the Redbull carriage and came face to face with Lando and Y/n in a distant corner.

It wasn't uncommon to see them in each other's garages, but Max frowned when he saw Y/n half-curdling while Lando spoke non-stop in an aggressive and low tone, only for her to hear.

Max got even more irritated when he saw Lando's expression change when he saw the cameras approaching.

He needed to have a little talk with Y/n.

Later that day, Max managed to catch Y/n alone and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

"Hey." He approaches smiling and she forces a smile.

"Hi Max."

"I wanted to ask you something, I don't want to be nosy or anything, but is everything okay?" Max notices that Y/n's hands are shaking so much that she can't open her can.

"It's okay, I just...fucking can." Max smiles weakly, takes the can from her hand and opens it in a second.

"You know he can't treat you like that, right?" Max says, giving the can back to her, who lowers her head a little uncomfortably.

"He's just kind of nervous and frustrated too."

Max laughs in disbelief upon hearing this.

"What kind of shitty excuse is that? He might have the worst day of his life, but he has to respect you." Y/n doesn't know what to do upon hearing Max say this.

"It's okay, Max, I...I like him." Max sighs and puts her hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"You'll always have me, okay? Even if you go to another team, whichever team you go to, you'll still have me, I promise." Those few words made Y/n's day 100% better.

The third time was a little more problematic, Y/n wasn't having a good day, and to make matters worse, the reporters seemed to sexualize her in every question, damn it.

"Why are you so glum?" Lando says, approaching her and taking her hand.

"I just don't understand why they have to sexualize me in every possible question." She says quietly and Lando scoffs.

"You're a woman and you're Latina, what do you expect them to do?" Y/n looks at her boyfriend confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Y/n, are you going to say you don't like this kind of attention? All this attention they give you?"

"You think I like being harassed? What's your problem?" Y/n lets go of his hand, and he's quick to pull her hand back, squeezing it a little tighter this time.

"Are you trying to put on a show for others now?" He says quietly, looking into Y/n's eyes, and she just wants to scream and run away.

But there are already too many lies and distorted stories about her out there, so she just turns her face away so she doesn't have to look at him, and forces a smile when Oscar and Charles approach to talk to them.

After that, Y/n thinks her mental health is hanging by a thread, the reporters make her seem like a gold digger, that she's only there to sleep with all the drivers, her boyfriend makes her feel ungrateful and crazy, and the haters won't stop trying to kill her once and for all.

But...

In the middle of all this, someone showed up...

Franco Colapinto

Franco and Y/n had known each other since the F2 days, they always laughed a lot and joked together, when Y/n went to F1, Franco cried with emotion with her.

But he knew how much she would be missed.

But now he's at Williams replacing Logan.

When he arrived at F1, he was all joy, Franco got to talk to his favorite drivers, and that was a dream come true, but when he turned around and saw Y/n drinking water and with a completely worried expression, he felt his legs a little wobbly.

"Holy shit, she's still beautiful."

Ele sempre a seguia na~~s redes sociais, mas vê-la tão de perto...

As if she could feel someone looking at her, Y/n turned and met Franco's eyes.

He smiled and waved and she waved back smiling with her mouth closed.

But he needed more, so unable to contain himself, he excused himself to the people around him and practically ran to Y/n.

"hola mi hermosa." Franco pulled her into a hug that she happily returned.

"I missed you so much." Y/n says and Franco smiles more.

When they let go of each other, Franco notices the dark circles under her eyes, and her smile that seems a little forced.

"Congratulations on your pole, it was more than deserved."

"Oh Franco, It's been months."

"Uau? Você me deixou ~~tão orgulhosa e feliz." S/n sorri e balança a cabeça.

"Thank you, it was a dream come true for sure, and I know I'll see you up there soon too." She smiles and Franco's heart races even faster, he had completely forgotten the power she had over him.

"Fuck, I forgot about that." Franco thinks.

Before Franco could say anything, Lando appears looking for Y/n.

"Come on Y/n, let's go have lunch." He takes Y/n's hand and looks Franco up and down.

"Hey, man." Lando lets go of Y/n's hand and offers it to Franco, who smiles as he shakes Lando's hand.

"See you around Franco." Y/n says smiling softly and Lando takes her hand pulling her with him.

Franco's smile fades as they walk away and he sighs self-consciously.

"Fuck, I forgot about that too!"

Taglist

@xnatqq @cinderellawithashoe @zestytimbit @viennekohi @awritingtree @rachelxxraucous @rnjjk @col4p1nt0 @lilacbou @ln4author @taygrls @mendes-bae @skepvids @uhhvictoria @l4ndo-fran43-jmm21 @zestytimbit @dejavuontrack @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @hwalllllllelujah @cccolapinto @alicisthings @shelbycillian @wierdflowerpower @hiireadstuff @zulema222 @anotherapollokid @linnygirl09 @kindestofkings @verstappensrealwife @92spcy @stclen-sweethearts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kissesandmartinis @accioboobear-blog @mwuaferrari @anewpersonthatexists

Some blogs I couldn't bookmark.

Please don't forget to reblog and tell me what you think. 😊

[xinganhao]

🥈 svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend.

anon → "could you do a post with one of the members getting after yn's bf because he thinks he's not treating her well enough?"

⌗ ┆i have a terrible feeling i might've misunderstood this req,, so please forgive me if i did lol ꒰ ꒡⌓꒡꒱

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: reader has a bad boyfriend, hurt/comfort, [light] angst, crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🥈 headcanons .ᐟ

— "break up with him now" ✩ junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

ah, yes. the trope of someone who will immediately insist that breaking up is the solution, although, in this case, it's completely warranted. soonyoung and minghao are the most vocal about you ending your relationship, but in their own little ways. for his part, soonyoung's a little annoying about it— you'll barely have explained your current predicament and he's already whining, "just break things off with him!" minghao, meanwhile, actually listens, but his expressions and consequent advice are brutal. he's always been no-bullshit when it comes to life, and so when he hears about all the things your boyfriend is doing/has done? he's actively advocating for you to get up and go. junhui's the type to take it out on your boyfriend. he's constantly threatening bodily harm and various other minor crimes against the poor guy, even though he doesn't really ever act on it. he is extra cold when he's in the other man's presence, to the point that your boyfriend may be under the impression that junhui hates him. (spoiler alert! jun does!) wonwoo isn't always vocal about his distaste; he's a little more backhanded/passive-aggressive about it. he's more of an actions guy, through and through. picking up the slack here and there to show you that your boyfriend is a dick for not doing things that your friends can. vernon also struggles a bit to get the right words out, so he just... says it as it is. he may look like he's packaging his advice as a joke, but he's 100% sincere when he sends you breakup playlists and reddit threads about ending things with your significant other. that's just his way of communicating it, really.

— "but are you okay?" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, mingyu, jihoon, seokmin, seungkwan.

for the most part, all the boys are the 'just-end-your-relationship-please' type, but there's also some who rely more on expression of concern. take mingyu, for example, whose chief endeavor will be to cheer you up. he'll leave sweet nothings and encouraging notes in hopes of lifting your mood; his eyes, constantly peeled to see how you're faring. you can rant in to the wee hours of the morning, and both seungkwan and joshua will listen. they'll let you tell the same old stories again and again; even if they half-joke that you just never listen to them, they're still there as a shoulder to cry on. seungkwan is more likely to give advice, while joshua's strength lies in non-judgmental indulgence. seokmin will make it his life's mission to distract you from the issue at hand. a movie night? a trip to an obscure café? if it will improve your mood in any way, shape, or form, he's already halfway there. he won't even mention your boyfriend, if you don't bring him up. seungcheol is similar to mingyu in the sense that he best expresses his concern through little encouraging gifts. he's not the type to push the envelope, to try and get you to talk when/if you're not ready, so he just communicates to you that he's there, when/if you need him. jihoon's also a bit unsure how to navigate a relationship that's not his. he can pick up how you're feeling, at the very least, and so he instead focuses on that. he's a quiet, steadfast presence who will take you to the gym or encourage you to write songs, if only because he thinks those might be potential solutions.

— "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" ✩ jeonghan, chan.

svt's petty line, how i love you so. they can all admittedly be petty when they want to be, but these two? they take the cake. jeonghan is a big believer in "show him what he's missing." he'll snap hot photos of you on your behalf. he'll let you use him as a nice little ploy to incite some jealousy. is it a little toxic, a bit red flag-y? sure, but that asshole is putting you through much worse. jeonghan's a firm believer that revenge is a dish best served cold, and he's cold to the bone when it comes to making sure you get what you deserve. (and that your boyfriend, too, has what's coming for him.) chan is insistent that you should break up with your boyfriend, of course, but he's a big believer that you should go out with a bang. it's a bit amusing, to see one of the group's more lowkey members insist that your boyfriend should be on the receiving end of a public lashing. some might say he just likes the drama. truthfully, he just wants to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you're not someone to be messed with, and that you're not going to settle for anything less now that you've kicked the devil's incarnate to the curb.

[manikas-whims]

LADS Men & the type of cats they are

in honor of the new quad banner ♡

RAFAYEL (Nyafayel)

🐾 picky eater, will not eat dry food and will make a yucky face at canned food, wants you to cook proper meals everyday, and wants you to diversify the meals

🐾 will knock over every article from your work desk, bedside table, kitchen counter, etc. while looking right into your eyes with his most defiant and naughty “try me” expression 😌

🐾 usually chill but will want all your attention in the presence of others; be it cats or humans..clingy af at night..will howl outside your room’s door until you let him in and let him sleep with you in bed..

🐾 also the type to wail when you leave him alone at home to go to work, and immediately smothers you with licks and rubs the moment you come back

🐾 hisses at water, will accidentally scratch you when you try to give him a bath..yet at the same time, enjoys being pampered..he's the type who sees you doing makeup & wants you to put it on him as well 🎀

XAVIER (Catvier)

🐾 a lazy cat (cats do sleep around 16~18 hours)..one of those who fall into a deep slumber and you're just left shaking and calling him, concerned..and then he just lazily yawns and looks at you with the most innocent, confused gaze 🥺

🐾 slow blinks at you at random moments to express how much he loves you..also rubs his head against your legs and purrs, wraps tail around your leg,..kinda territorial, hisses if you smell like someone else..

🐾 loves food, is kind of a glutton..you need to stop feeding him..just because he meows sadly at you every hour doesn't mean he's hungry

🐾 does those weird cat things like sleep in awful postures, might stand on two feet and stare at you n do other weird shit lol

🐾 hates being toyed with but will immediately jump at the laser pointer lol..really sharp at spotting house lizards and mouse..will immediately catch them (topple alot of stuff in the process) and bring them to you as gifts

ZAYNE

🐾 is a gentleman and doesn't disturb you..sits nearby while you work so he can easily climb into your lap and offer comfort if you start feeling stressed or tired

🐾 not very vocal but there are days when he really wants affection, and on those days, he silently approaches you, headbutts you and meows softly, patiently waiting for you to pet him 🥺

🐾 not a talkative kitty but responds to everything you say..you call his name and he'll meow with affection, you ask if he's hungry and replies with a soft yet prolonged meow, you ask if wants to play and he meows cheerfully

🐾 very well-behaved, loves self-grooming but also never bothers you when it comes to bathing and grooming..sits like a good boy even when you're trimming his nails

🐾 does the most perfect loaf, may climb onto your belly when you're lying down and loaf onto your belly lol..is a baker kitty and will start kneading when he's feeling extra affectionate

SYLUS

🐾 an outdoor kitty, sometimes disappears for a day or two and just when you start feeling a little concerned, he’s tiptoeing back in through the flap in your door..may be covered in dirt or even small nicks and cuts from fights he picks with the strays

🐾 makes you chase him around the house the moment he realises you're going to give him a bath..but the moment he's put in the tub, he's actually enjoying it..might cozy up there for far longer than necessary

🐾 very confident..do not yell at him for anything because he will growl and snarl back..doesn't like it when you scold him..also the type to catch mice n other small animals but he likes toying with them for fun 😭

🐾 there are days when you come across him meowing along to some tune..he's a talented singer, also likes to sing his meows when you're preparing his meal

🐾 will not let you pet him much..like he'll let you stroke his fur for a while and then suddenly when he gets overwhelmed by it, he will bite your hand lol (my cat does this sometimes 😭) actually likes play-biting

i couldn't think up any good kitty names for Zayne and Sylus, so if y'all got any, please drop them in replies 🙏 n i’ll add them

» MASTERLIST «

[ceratedfish24]

I just saw someone say that Scott has a hard time saying that he loves his teammates. I- have you watched Scott? Scott “‘We don’t need [ender]pearls, we already have the best Pearl’ right to Pearl’s face” Major? Scott “saying ‘I love you’ isn’t going to be a hard task for me cause that’s normal behavior for me” Major? Scott ‘“‘the sweetheart’ as deemed by Skizz, Impulse, and Grian” Major? Scott “‘I love you, say it back’” Major?????????? Scott the most loving person on the server other than maybe Skizz?????????????

“Scott is manipulative. He makes himself look good to protect his teammates.” “Manipulative” implies that Scott is lying. Scott stays true to his word. He’s one of the most earnest people on the server. If he isn’t going to defend someone, he tells them that he’s not going to defend them. If he says he’s going to do something for you, he’s going to get it done, which is why a lot of people value him as an ally. It might blow your mind, but Scott’s openness and honesty is what makes people trust him.

“Scott makes himself look strong.” Scott is strong. He wiped the floor with Impulse. He has escaped being chased so many times. He succeeded at a legendary and remarkably underrated bucket clutch. You think Scar’s bucket clutch was good? It was, but he was expecting to fall and onto flat land. Scott was knocked off of a tower onto a hillside. Nobody talks about that. He’s really good at PvP, and people know that. Additionally, Scott has never made himself look strong. He’s a very passive person. He doesn’t like starting fights. Bdubs is terrified of Scott, and Scott has only ever tried to be friendly to Bdubs. Bdubs just knows Scott’s reputation. Martyn is scared of Scott. Martyn has fought Scott first hand and won, and yet he did not want to make an enemy of Scott after Limited Life. Skizz picks a direct fight with a LOT of people, but he never picks a direct fight with Scott. He knows way too well how that fight’s going to go. Skizz will take on Lizzie and Scar and Tango, but he’ll never target Scott if he can avoid it. Scott knows that he’s strong. His MCC rankings are pretty solid proof. You can’t fault him for having genuine confidence in his PvP skills but not actually wanting to fight if he can avoid it. If he loses, that sucks. If he wins, he’s angered a team.

You’re calling him “manipulative” because his enemies are afraid of him and his allies trust him. That is what happens when an honest person is powerful. Most people who have had any experience with Scott know that Scott is not someone to mess with. After fighting Scott in Limited Life and being on his team in Secret Life, Impulse got WAY bolder on Scott’s team, because he trusts Scott to have his back, and Scott does have Impulse’s back. He’s constantly apologizing for Impulse and was very upset when he was asked to keep a trap secret from Impulse. Scott works so hard to be honest in a game where honesty is not always rewarded, and he does not deserve to be slandered like this, especially when nobody else is being treated like this.

Scott never makes himself out to be anything other than what he is. Lying doesn’t go well for him. He is just a guy trying to keep the fighting away from his teammates, and lying isn’t the best way to prevent that when so many people in this game are so clever or so quick to assume you’re lying anyway. Social games don’t have to be about control. Social games can be about building a reputation of integrity by having integrity.

This excludes Joel because Joel is too close to Scott in real life and will attack him because it’s funny to see your friend get irritated with you.

You know who will never say “I love you” in the life series?? Grian.

You know who was “manipulative” last session? Pearl knew there was a trap, promised not to tell her teammates, knew that Scott knew about the trap, and told him “why are we whispering? why are we crouching? there’s nothing there. you’re being paranoid”. Nobody says ANYTHING about that.

You know who likes to look strong? Bdubs, Jimmy, Ren, Impulse, and Skizz. Those are the ones who make themselves out to be bigger than they are, which is a normal strategy in a competitive situation. Bdubs loves to be LOUD and aggressive. Jimmy loves to puff his chest up and make threats, but he backs off the moment someone hits him back. Ren loves to take the lead (3rd Life, Double Life, and now Wild Life). Impulse loves to get aggressive and petty, and his confidence is often his end. Skizz LOVES to be overly aggressive once he’s allowed to kill, but he’s really bad at backing people into enough of a corner to keep them in a fight. Scott is quiet, because he doesn’t like the attention. Scott likes being distanced from the other Wild Life teams, because he likes being out of the way, but he went with the others anyway.

[joelsrose]

Guns and Roses: Chapter 9

hey cuties, this chapter is actually so angsty I might die i love when you guys comment so pls keep it up and let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list !! i fricking love u guys !!

previous chapters

Before they left

Ellie was out with Leo, one of Jackson’s newer patrolmen—a quiet, steady-eyed guy with a calm that felt almost unnatural in a place like this. He’d proven himself useful enough: sharp aim, sure step.

It was her first real patrol without Joel’s shadow looming behind her, his watchful eye dissecting every sound, every flicker in the underbrush, ready to jump in if her instincts wavered. Joel had been more than hesitant to let her go, but Ellie knew how to work around his protectiveness, and he’d eventually relented, grumbling something about her proving she could handle herself.

The route they’d been given was standard—a western perimeter sweep, a routine check of gates, watchposts, and gaps in the fence line. Nothing more than a glance at empty fields, trees swaying in the distance, and the ghostly echoes of rustling animals.

But the clouds loomed low and dark, heavy as lead against the wide sky, threatening rain or worse. The cold bit into her bones, crisp enough to sting, and her breath lingered in clouds of mist before vanishing into the chill.

Leo walked a few steps ahead, his eyes sweeping the treeline with the cool efficiency of someone who didn’t mind the silence. Ellie glanced sideways at him, watching his shoulders rise and fall in a calm rhythm as if the place itself couldn’t touch him.

They’d just decided to turn back, the patrol as uneventful as they’d hoped, when Leo stopped dead in his tracks. Ellie followed his gaze and spotted it, too—a faint plume of smoke curling up behind a ridge in the distance, thin and gray against the dark sky. One look passed between them, and they both knew what it meant: someone was out there, just close enough to Jackson to make them uneasy.

Ellie’s heart hammered against her ribs, and suddenly, Joel’s voice rang through her mind, steady as his hand on her shoulder during a training session. “Never assume it’s friendly. People only hide for two reasons—fear or intent. And neither’s safe.”

She could almost hear him, his tone low, caution edging his words. “Look for cover first, approach quiet. Only move when you’re sure.” Her grip on her rifle tightened, knuckles whitening against the cold metal.

Leo gave her a nod, an unspoken you ready?

She drew a slow breath, reminding herself to stay calm. They moved closer, footsteps careful, every sound amplified in the stillness. All of Joel’s hard-learned lessons came flooding back as they advanced: stay low, eyes sharp, don’t let them see you before you see them.

Quietly, they moved toward the smoke, weapons drawn, each step calculated as they closed in on the campsite. Then they saw them—a small group of raiders, rough-looking men in mismatched gear, their rifles propped against logs, packs scattered around like they planned on staying awhile. The men hadn’t spotted Ellie and Leo yet, so they crept closer, taking cover behind a rocky outcrop, hearts pounding, breaths held.

But then, maybe it was just instinct—one of the raiders glanced up, his hand flying to his weapon. In an instant, chaos erupted. Gunfire shattered the quiet, loud and brutal in the cold air. Ellie’s heart thundered, adrenaline coursing through her as she ducked and returned fire.

One by one, the raiders went down, their shouts fading until only the hush of the forest remained, heavy and grim. The last raider, staggering back with blood staining his side, fell against a wall, his eyes wide, desperate.

Leo stepped forward, his weapon raised, ready to end it, but Ellie held up a hand, halting him. She had questions, a nagging instinct clawing at her gut, and something in the raider’s gaze—defiance mixed with fear—made her pause.

“Who are you?” Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, low and steady, her words edged with a threat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The raider sneered, blood staining his teeth, but his eyes held a glint, something wild and defiant. “We’re here for the girl,” he spat, his voice rasping with a strange, almost triumphant malice. “The cure.”

Ellie felt a chill flood her veins, as if the air had turned to ice.

Her grip on her gun tightened, fingers tense on the trigger as she stared at him.

The cure.

The words twisted in her mind, turning her thoughts into a chaotic storm. “What… what did you say?” she whispered, the strength in her voice slipping as the weight of his words sank in, a cold, sick feeling clawing at her stomach.

Her mind raced, questions hammering at her. Were they ordinary raiders? Fireflies? Or some new group who’d managed to pick up on her past, on the secret Joel had tried so hard to bury? And if they knew… how had they tracked her here, to Jackson, where she was supposed to be safe?

The raider’s smirk only deepened, his face pale but his eyes dark with some twisted satisfaction. “We know all about her,” he rasped, each word a knife. His gaze fixed on her, sharp and unyielding, like he could see right through her.

"You can kill me," the raider coughed, blood trickling down his chin, yet his eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. "But more will come. And when we do… we’re gonna get her."

Ellie’s pulse thundered in her ears, each beat amplifying the sick, hollow dread spreading through her. His words slithered into her mind, each one striking with cold, ruthless certainty.

Someone knew. Someone out there knew what she was.

The one thing she’d worked so hard to bury, to escape, to live beyond—the secret Joel had kept at any cost—was slipping from her grip, no matter how tightly she’d held on. She’d come to Jackson to be just Ellie, to walk through the world as more than a body bound to a cure she’d never asked to carry. But now, in one brutal moment, that hope felt like dust, falling through her fingers.

Leo, sensing the shift in her demeanor and the tension etched across her face, stepped forward. He didn’t hesitate—a single, precise shot rang out, and the raider slumped against the ground, lifeless. Yet his words lingered, like a dark shadow cast over the silent campsite, a threat that felt too real to ignore.

Leo turned to her, brow furrowed in confusion, his voice low but edged with concern. “What the fuck was he talking about?”

Ellie forced herself to breathe, to steady the churning in her gut. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She met his gaze, holding it just long enough to seem certain, though the lie felt heavy on her tongue.

By the time she returned to Jackson, her face was drained of color. She didn’t say a word to Leo, only gave him a faint nod when he suggested reporting the encounter, and then she disappeared.

The moment she crossed the threshold into her house, she was already packing, her hands working in a blur, stuffing her few belongings into a bag with a mechanical urgency that left no room for second thoughts. She knew what Joel would say, knew he’d tell her the only thing they could do now was run, to disappear before anyone came looking.

As the hours slipped into night, the town settled into a quiet stillness, but Ellie was already outside, her breath curling in the cold air, her feet carrying her through Jackson’s empty streets as if pulled by some unseen force. She stopped at your door and knocked, each second stretching painfully until it finally opened. Joel stood there, his face etched with worry, his eyes bloodshot, but even before she could say a word, he took one look at her and knew something was wrong.

It was settled—they were leaving. The quiet agreement hung heavy between them, each of them knowing there was no turning back.

She watched as Joel turned, his gaze drifting to the staircase, lingering just a moment too long. Ellie couldn’t look at him, the weight of his sacrifice pressing against the raw guilt twisting inside her.

•••

A year had passed.

They traveled endlessly, never lingering too long in one place, drifting through desolate towns and hollowed-out shelters, each as empty as the last. Days blurred together, a relentless stretch of gray skies and quiet roads, of survival routines that left no room for anything but vigilance. They moved like ghosts through a world that had forgotten them, Ellie and Joel—two souls bound by an unspoken promise and a need to stay ahead of whoever might be searching.

But no matter how far they went, no matter the miles they put between themselves and Jackson, Joel’s mind was always somewhere else.

It was always with you.

Every morning when Joel woke, there was a brief, blissful moment—a fragile sliver of peace between dream and reality—where he could almost convince himself he was back with you. In those hazy seconds, his mind softened, his body at ease, and he felt the warmth of your bed, the quiet hum of dawn filtering through the curtains, his head nestled at the base of your neck, his arm wrapped around you like a promise he could hold onto.

He’d breathe in, and for that stolen instant, he’d catch the faintest trace of lavender. That scent lingered in his memory like a dream that refused to fade, one he clung to as he drifted between worlds. Lavender, soft and warm, always grounding him, always pulling him into the shape of you, filling every unspoken part of him with something he dared not name. He could feel you, the curve of your shoulder under his hand, the steady rise and fall of your breathing, the delicate intimacy that felt like home, a rare quiet he hadn’t even realized he could crave.

But then he’d open his eyes, and the cold reality of wherever they were would settle over him like a weight he’d never shake. The warmth, the closeness, the gentle pull of something almost real—it all slipped away, replaced by the hard ground, the empty air, the relentless ache that gnawed at him day after day.

Day and night, you lingered in his mind—a steady, silent ache, a presence that filled the hollow spaces inside him, ones he hadn’t even realized existed until you’d come along. Each day he wondered, turning it over and over in his mind, if things might have been different. If he hadn’t been so guarded, if he hadn’t kept you at arm’s length, would you have known how he truly felt? Would it have changed anything?

He imagined a thousand different versions of how he could’ve told you, how he could’ve let down those walls, let you see the side of him he’d buried under years of loss and regret. But in every version, he hesitated, haunted by the weight of everything he’d already lost, afraid to let himself believe in something good. And now, with you gone, he was filled with regret, a reminder of everything he hadn’t said, every moment he’d let slip through his fingers.

As they walked, he found himself wondering what you might be doing in Jackson, if you still waited by the window or traced the outline of the mountains with your eyes, hoping for some glimpse of him. And he wondered, in the deepest, most selfish parts of himself, if you missed him in the way that gnawed at him every hour, every mile. If you ached for him with the same relentless pull that made each morning harder, each night colder.

But then there was the worry that gnawed at the edges of his mind, the fear he kept buried deep but couldn’t quite silence. He’d never spoken the words, never dared cross the fragile line that had formed between you—a line made of glances that lingered too long, of touches that held meaning but never promises, of feelings he kept locked tight behind his ribs, too afraid to give them a name.

Yet he was selfish, and the thought of you with another man, of someone else in your bed, sharing that quiet warmth, feeling your touch—it was enough to turn his stomach, to make his mouth go dry with a bitterness he couldn’t swallow. He pictured it sometimes, in the dark hours of the night when he couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling, imagined some stranger’s hand on your shoulder, some other voice filling the silence he used to share with you.

He had no right to it, and he knew it, but it didn’t stop the ache, didn’t stop that cold, jealous twist that reminded him just how much he wanted you.

So he carried you with him, in every step, every breath, every heartbeat. You were woven into him, a memory that pulsed through his veins like a wound that refused to heal. He could feel you in the quiet moments when he let his guard down, in the spaces between one thought and the next, a whisper of what he’d left behind but could never fully abandon. It was a burden and a balm, a constant ache that kept him grounded and made each mile that much harder to bear.

And in the quiet, secret places of his heart, he let himself believe that maybe, someday, he’d find his way back to you. Just for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself that hope, that maybe after all the miles and all the weight he’d carried, he’d see you again. That he’d find his way back, and you’d still be there, waiting for him, just as he’d been waiting for you in his own, silent way all along.

•••

One year.

A whole year had passed since Joel and Ellie had vanished from your life. You’d marked the date on your calendar, a small, barely visible reminder—a private, somber anniversary that only you observed. The seasons had cycled relentlessly in their quiet march, warmth giving way to the chill of winter, spring bursting with life, and now autumn, painting the world in hues of burnished orange and fading gold. Each season had carried with it a different ache, a shifting loneliness that settled in like an old companion.

Now, as you watched the leaves fall, scattered and swirling in the crisp air, you felt the bittersweet ache of time moving forward without them. There was something unshakably hollow in the thought that the world could keep turning while Joel and Ellie remained nothing more than memories tucked away in your mind. You’d find yourself pausing on quiet evenings, thinking you’d catch a glimpse of Joel’s familiar figure down the road or hear Ellie’s laughter echoing from somewhere beyond the trees, only for the moment to pass.

In the midst of all this change, you and Caleb had slowly, almost unwittingly, drifted into each other’s lives. It started after that vulnerable night with Maria, when, over cups of tea and whispered confidences, she’d urged you to let yourself find happiness, to stop waiting on shadows of the past.

Soon after, you found yourself leaning into the steady comfort Caleb offered. There was an undeniable ease in his presence—a warmth that settled around you without demands or complications. Caleb’s laughter was open, a soft assurance that made you feel safe, grounded. He had a way of bringing lightness to the quietest moments, an ability to turn the mundane into something unexpectedly joyful. He filled spaces in your life that had felt empty for too long, his steady presence easing the ache you’d carried alone.

He treated you with a gentle kindness, never pressing, never prying, just being there in a way that was soothing and, somehow, exactly what you’d needed. His steady hand on your shoulder, the unspoken reassurance in his gaze—it all felt like a balm against the ache you’d carried since Joel and Ellie’s departure.

Caleb didn’t ask questions about your past, didn’t demand pieces of yourself you weren’t ready to give, but with every passing day, his presence filled parts of the void Joel had left behind, like warm light spilling into a room you’d thought would always remain shadowed.

Your first kiss had been awkward in the sweetest way—two people stumbling, laughing against each other’s mouths, teeth clashing before you pulled back, cheeks flushed, unable to hide your laughter. It was light and easy, no grand declarations or heavy promises, just a moment shared, a warmth that didn’t need to be anything more than what it was. And as the weeks passed, it became obvious to everyone in Jackson, to every friend who exchanged knowing glances, that Caleb was smitten, his eyes following you with a warmth that softened even the hardest of stares.

So, you let him.

You let him in, bit by bit, finding comfort in his steady affection, in the way he made you laugh without trying, in the simple joy he brought into your life. And though a part of you still held on to memories of what you’d lost, the way Caleb looked at you made it easier to feel present, to let yourself be loved, to lean into a kindness that, for now, was enough.

But, it had been a year, and still, you cursed yourself for the way Joel lingered in your mind, haunting the quietest parts of your day. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t slip into your thoughts daily, an uninvited presence that crept in as you drifted off to sleep, or while you were brushing down the horses in the stables, even as you stood under the hot spray of the shower, eyes closed, heart heavy. His memory was like a thread woven into the fabric of your life, one you couldn’t pull free no matter how much time passed.

You tried not to think about what a year could mean, how the world beyond Jackson had a way of swallowing people whole, never to return. Instead, you forced yourself to imagine him somewhere out there—alive, even if he was distant, existing in a place you couldn’t reach. You pictured him like a shadow moving across empty roads, his gaze sharp, his stance steady, a survivor who wouldn’t let anything bring him down. It was easier to hold onto that, to let yourself believe he was still walking through this world, even if it was a world without you.

And sometimes, despite all your efforts to bury it, you couldn’t help but think of how well Joel had known you. One day Caleb brought home tulips, bright and cheerful in their own way, yet somehow missing the mark. You smiled and thanked him, grateful for the thought, but in the quiet of your mind, you couldn’t ignore the tug of memory. It was roses that had always stirred something deeper within you, and Joel had known that. You’d managed to piece it together over time, a quiet revelation that settled into your bones with bittersweet clarity.

It had been him who left that bouquet in your house when your leg was injured. You’d mentioned how you’d have to thank Tommy and Maria for the gesture, assuming the flowers had come from them, oblivious to the truth. Joel had just shrugged, feigning indifference, a quiet smirk playing at his mouth as he mumbled some dismissive response, never letting on that it was his silent confession, his way of saying the things he couldn’t put into words.

Those roses had been more than a gesture—they were a message wrapped in velvet petals, a whisper of all that had gone unspoken between you. And though you tried to focus on the present, on Caleb’s tulips and his warmth and his laughter, you couldn’t help but feel that those roses, left in the quiet space of your home, had planted themselves in your heart. A love that had never been spoken aloud yet lingered in every memory, every thought you forced yourself to tuck away.

Roses—his unspoken promise, his way of telling you he saw you, of saying all the things that a man like Joel couldn’t put into words.

•••

It was another evening spent around Tommy and Maria’s table, the familiar warmth and chatter weaving through the room like an old, comforting song. Laughter mingled with the clinking of plates, stories flowing easily as everyone settled into the simple joy of being together, of holding onto the small things that made life feel whole. The baby slept soundly in the next room, a soft, steady reminder of life’s resilience, of how beauty and heartbreak could coexist in the same breath.

But as the night wore on, your eyes drifted, almost unwillingly, to the empty seat at your side, the one that had remained untouched for so long. You could almost see him there, a shadow in the space beside you, a ghost haunting every dinner. In your mind, he was sitting right there, his familiar silhouette leaning back, arms crossed, quietly listening, his face softened just slightly in that rare way it only ever did when he felt at ease. You could picture him stealing a glance your way, the warmth in his gaze flickering just briefly before he looked down, his hand reaching out to adjust his glass.

As the evening unfolded, you couldn’t help but notice Caleb—quieter than usual, a strange tension in his posture, his leg shaking beneath the table in a steady, anxious rhythm. His gaze flickered over to you now and then, his eyes carrying something unreadable, something heavy. And when the meal was finally done, he rose abruptly, the scrape of wood against the floor slicing through the laughter and easy conversation like a sudden, cold draft.

Maria paused, tilting her head in concern. “Can I get you something Caleb?” she asked gently, her voice soft but curious, but he shook his head.

You looked up, confusion mingling with a growing unease as you caught the glint of something intense in his eyes. “Caleb?” you murmured, searching his face, trying to understand what he was about to say.

He took a shaky breath, his gaze softening as he spoke your name, and for a moment, it felt as if everything else faded into the background, the room narrowing until it was just the two of you. “I… I’ve thought a lot about us,” he began, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of nerves.

“When I came to Jackson, and I saw you for the first time… I knew I wanted you in my life. I know it sounds cheesy, but I never thought I’d find love again—not after the world fell apart.” He swallowed, his fingers fidgeting as he spoke, his words raw and unguarded. “Then I found you. And I can’t picture my life without you.”

Your heart stilled as his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, worn tin. He opened it carefully, and inside, nestled in a bit of cloth, was a ring, the metal shaped into a delicate band, with a small, carefully polished piece of amber set in the center. It glowed warm and honeyed in the candlelight, a humble but beautiful thing.

He held it out to you, his hand trembling slightly. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, thick with hope and a quiet, desperate longing.

For a moment, everything else disappeared—the warmth of the room, the low murmur of voices drifting in the background—all of it faded as the weight of Caleb's words settled over you. A whirlwind of emotions stirred inside you, a rush of unexpected joy tangled up with the familiar ache you’d tried so hard to bury, the one that had never truly left.

“Caleb, I—” you began, your voice faltering, but he held your gaze, his eyes bright, unwavering, filled with a quiet, earnest hope. He was waiting, trusting, laying his heart bare before you. You forced yourself not to think too much, not to let his face enter your mind—though it already had, a ghost lingering just on the edge of this moment.

But you didn’t let it take hold.

You swallowed, steadying yourself, and finally, you found your voice. “Yes,” you whispered, though your voice trembled, betraying the tumult of feeling beneath. “Yes, I will.”

Caleb’s face lit up, his relief and happiness radiating as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his fingers warm and steady against your trembling hand. You could feel the weight of it—the promise, the choice.

The room erupted in cheers, laughter ringing out as Tommy and Maria pulled you into warm, heartfelt hugs. Their joy filled the space, wrapping around you like a blanket, and for a moment, you let yourself be swept up in it, feeling the weight of Caleb’s ring on your finger, his grateful smile lighting up his face as he looked at you with a love so simple and genuine.

But even as you smiled, a quiet wave of guilt coiled around your heart, tugging painfully, reminding you of a truth you couldn’t ignore. Joel lingered there, tucked away in some hidden corner of yourself, an ache that had never fully healed.

And though you’d tried to close that chapter, to bury it beneath the promises you were making now, you couldn’t shake the thought that somewhere, in another life, he might have been here beside you instead.

•••

You and Maria strolled arm in arm, giggling like teenagers, caught up in the novelty of planning a wedding in a world where ceremonies were rare luxuries. With every step, you swapped whispered ideas for practical dresses, scavenged fabric, maybe even wildflowers if they could be found.

Maria’s excitement was infectious; she insisted on small touches of beauty—a bit of lace here, a hint of color there, things you hadn’t dared to dream of in years. Together, you imagined a simple gathering, something that honored love in a place so often touched by loss.

But then, as you rounded a corner, a shift in the air pulled you back to reality. Low voices sounded behind you, muted but tense, carrying a seriousness that was hard to ignore. You exchanged a glance with Maria, laughter fading as a sense of unease settled over you both.

Your heart stopped, every sound around you fading as the murmured words reached your ears. “It’s Tommy’s brother… and that girl—” The phrase lingered in the air, as if the very walls had held their breath.

A surge of disbelief flooded through you, followed by a fierce, aching hope that felt like a wound you’d thought had healed. It was a hope so intense that it was almost painful, something you’d buried deep but never truly let go.

Without even realizing it, you’d already begun pushing through the crowd, instincts driving you forward before your mind could catch up. Your pulse pounded in your ears, every nerve on edge as you moved, your eyes darting from face to face, each stranger a fleeting blur in your periphery. You were searching, each step laced with a desperation you hadn’t let yourself feel in so long.

And then, there they were.

Emerging through the gates, framed in the amber glow of the setting sun, was Joel—a figure you’d thought you might never see again, a presence so achingly familiar it felt like a punch to the chest. The world seemed to go silent, your surroundings blurring as if everything was pulling away, leaving only him standing there.

He looked older, and the sight of him—aged, worn, burdened—stirred a profound yearning within you, a visceral ache that ran so deep it stole the breath from your lungs. Every line on his face, every crease around his eyes, told a story of battles fought and sacrifices endured in brutal silence. His shoulders bore the weight of countless miles, each hardship etched into the way he held himself, his posture heavy with the ghosts he'd carried through a world you could scarcely imagine.

The year had sculpted him into someone both familiar and foreign, a man shaped by time and trials you weren't there to witness. Yet, despite the distance that life had carved between you, the pull you felt was undeniable—a magnetic longing that transcended the unspoken words and lost moments. You yearned to bridge the gap, to reach out and trace the map of his experiences etched upon his skin, to understand the depths of the sorrows and joys that had defined his journey.

The mere presence of him ignited something dormant within you, a longing that was both painful and exquisite. It was as if every unshed tear, every unspoken confession, every suppressed desire swelled up, pressing against the barriers you'd so carefully constructed. In that moment, all you wanted was to close the space between you, to let the unfulfilled promises and lingering glances find their resolution. The weight of what was left unsaid hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too—the aching, relentless yearning that time had only intensified.

Your heart raced, a fierce, desperate rhythm that echoed through you like a thunderclap, raw and unforgiving. Every wall you’d built, every attempt you’d made to move forward, to accept his absence, came crashing down in a wave of overwhelming emotion. Anger, relief, hurt, and a longing so powerful it almost brought you to your knees—all of it rose up at once, tearing through the numbness you’d wrapped yourself in over the past year.

You wanted to run to him, to touch him, to let your fingers trace every line that time and hardship had carved into his face. You wanted to scream, to release the anger and hurt that his absence had left festering inside you. The agony of it was still fresh, wounds barely scabbed over that now bled anew, raw and relentless as every buried feeling clawed its way back to the surface. But even as you stood there, helpless, held captive by a tide of emotions you couldn’t contain, a familiar thought hit you, one that stopped you in your tracks, grounding you in a different kind of pain.

Did you even have the right?

The question echoed through you, sharp and unforgiving. Did what you and Joel shared before he left amount to anything real, anything that could survive the void he’d left in his wake? Had it been enough to claim him as yours in some silent, unspoken way? Or was it just a fragile thread spun from stolen glances, from touches that had lingered just a bit too long, from words unsaid but felt in the quiet spaces between breaths?

Beside him, Ellie moved with that fierce, unbreakable spirit that had always burned so brightly in her—a spark that even time and distance couldn’t diminish. Her steps were sure, carrying a quiet defiance, as if she’d faced down every dark corner the world had to offer and come out stronger, sharper. She looked older, too, her once-youthful face etched with an intensity that felt both familiar and heartbreakingly new. She was no longer the girl you’d last seen but something more—a survivor who’d fought her way through shadows you couldn’t imagine.

Around you, the murmurs grew, swelling into a chorus of shock and amazement, voices rising and falling like a tidal wave as people turned, faces lighting up with a mix of disbelief and awe. The name "Joel" rippled through the crowd, a whispered current that surged closer with each moment, brushing against your ears, making it all feel even more real and yet somehow impossible.

You saw him glance across the sea of faces, his gaze moving with an intensity you hadn’t seen in so long. He searched with a quiet urgency, his eyes scanning the crowd as if he were looking for something—no, someone. The weight of his gaze, though it hadn’t landed on you yet, felt heavy, filling the air between you with a tension that made your heart pound.

Maria’s hand found your arm, her face etched with concern as she studied you. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft yet laced with worry. You wanted to answer, to reassure her, but the words caught in your throat. The world began to tilt, the sounds around you muffling as the rush of emotions—the disbelief, the hurt, the longing, all of it—swelled to a breaking point.

The vibrant colors of Jackson smeared into indistinct shapes, the cheerful sounds of the market melting into a distant, muffled hum. Everything around you seemed to tilt, slipping just out of reach as the flood of emotions—hope, shock, grief—crashed into each other, leaving you helpless against the surge. Before you could fully process it all, a wave of dizziness swept over you, an overwhelming rush of sensation that left you weightless and unanchored, as if reality itself were slipping through your fingers.

The thrill and desperate joy of seeing them faded into the background, replaced by a strange, numbing sense of disorientation that tugged you down, pulling you to the very edge of consciousness. You tried to focus, to hold onto the image of Joel standing there, of the life you’d imagined fading away, replaced by something unbearably real and raw. But the world around you grew dim, shadows pressing in from all sides, and the last thing you remembered was that one, undeniable thought echoing in the darkness

Joel was back.

•••

You stirred from the depths of unconsciousness, the sound of hushed voices reaching your ears like distant whispers. The air around you was warm, wrapping you in a cozy cocoon that felt both familiar and comforting. As your senses began to awaken, you registered the faint scent of woodsmoke mingling with something sweet—perhaps the remnants of a candle or a lingering trace of cinnamon from the kitchen.

Gradually, you opened your eyes, blinking against the soft glow of the room. It was a space you knew well, filled with the warmth of home—the walls adorned with handmade decorations, the soft rustle of fabric as a breeze slipped through a nearby window. The gentle crackle of the fire in the hearth provided a soothing backdrop, wrapping you in a sense of safety that felt almost tangible.

As your vision cleared, you became aware of a figure hovering nearby, blurred shapes gradually sharpening into a familiar face. Maria’s worried expression softened into relief the moment your eyes met hers.

You tried to speak, your voice thin and cracked, barely managing a whisper. “What… what happened?”

“Easy,” Maria soothed, her fingers tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, grounding you with a motherly gentleness. “You fainted when you saw them,” she explained, her tone soft, reassuring. “Just breathe, okay? You’re safe.”

“Where is he?” you blurted, unable to keep the desperation from spilling into your voice, every reined-in emotion surging to the surface. Relief, disbelief, bitterness—they all tangled within you, clawing their way up as panic brushed at the edges of your mind.

For so long, you had carried the weight of not knowing, the unanswered grief that lingered like an ache in your chest, the painful acceptance that he might be gone forever. And now he was here—somewhere in this town—yet it felt too fragile, like a dream that could vanish the moment you dared to reach for it.

Maria’s hand squeezed yours, her gaze steady and full of understanding. “He’s with Tommy right now,” she replied, her voice soft, gentle, as if trying to protect you from the storm that raged inside. Her words were grounding, and yet they ignited a twist of dread and longing deep in your stomach, a wave of emotions that left you feeling raw and exposed.

You weren’t sure you were ready. Facing him meant confronting everything you’d buried beneath layers of resilience and sorrow, everything you’d told yourself you had to let go of for your own sake. Joel had left without a single word, slipping away into the night as if you’d been nothing more than a passing moment. His absence had carved a hollow in you that you’d struggled to fill, a wound that had scarred over but never truly healed. And now, standing on the brink of seeing him again, you felt that scar ache with a fresh, raw pain.

Yet even with the bitterness of abandonment coiled in your heart, there was an undeniable pull—a fierce, undeniable urge to see him, to look into his eyes and find answers to the questions that had haunted you every day he’d been gone.

“Why did he leave?” you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it, more a plea to the silence than anything else. It was as if the past year’s worth of pain—the hollow ache of missing him, the endless stretch of days that had only deepened the wound of his absence—had coiled into those words, raw and unfiltered.

Maria’s gaze softened, her hand resting gently on your arm, steadying you as the storm of emotions churned just beneath the surface. Her expression held an empathy that felt both comforting and heartbreaking, as if she knew too well what it was to bear the weight of unspoken loss. “I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice gentle, almost apologetic. “But he’s back now, and I’m sure he’ll explain everything.”

“Baby?” You looked up, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest before reality settled in, the fragile possibility slipping through your fingers. It wasn’t Joel. Caleb stood before you, his face etched with worry, his gaze searching your expression for answers he hadn’t dared to ask yet.

A pang of guilt followed, sharp and immediate, reminding you of the unspoken longing that still tugged at your heart. It wasn’t fair to Caleb, this man who had been there, filling the hollow spaces left behind by someone who’d vanished without so much as a goodbye.

He was the one who’d stood beside you in Joel’s absence, bringing light into the dark days, a patient comfort you’d learned to lean on. And yet, the yearning for Joel, the ache you’d buried so deeply, had flared to life the instant you heard his name whispered in the crowd.

Caleb’s eyes softened, a gentle understanding there that only deepened the ache within you. He reached out, brushing his hand over yours, grounding you even as you felt yourself drifting in a sea of old memories and unresolved feelings.

“I heard you fainted. Are you okay?” Caleb’s voice was gentle, laced with a worry that made guilt tighten in your chest.

“Yeah, I just… didn’t eat breakfast,” you replied, the lie slipping out with a forced casualness that felt thin and hollow. You flashed a quick, pointed look at Maria, silently begging her to keep quiet. She met your gaze, her expression a mixture of sympathy and unspoken curiosity, questions lingering in her eyes that she respectfully held back.

You hadn’t told Caleb about Joel, hadn’t shared that part of yourself that felt both vital and broken, a chapter that still haunted the edges of every moment you’d tried to start anew. It was easier, you’d told yourself, to let that part of your life remain in shadow, a memory locked safely away. Yet, with Joel here, with him breathing the same air once again, that shadow stretched over everything, blurring the lines between what had been and what was supposed to be.

It felt irrelevant, a relic of the past that had no place in the life you were building now. Joel had left, after all, and there hadn’t been anything definitive between you—no confessions, no kisses, nothing that should linger.

But deep down, you knew it wasn’t that simple.

What you had with Joel was tangled and complex, layered with unspoken emotions that ran deeper than words or actions. It terrified you even now, the way he’d left an imprint you couldn’t erase. No matter how much you cared for Caleb, a part of you had never felt with him what you’d felt with Joel, and the guilt of that truth weighed heavy, a quiet ache you carried in silence.

“Scared the shit out of me,” Caleb joked, his voice soft but attempting to lift the heavy air that hung between you.

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the warmth he always offered so freely. “I’m okay now, I promise. You can head back to the clinic,” you said, trying to inject some lightness into your tone.

“Are you sure?” His brow furrowed, genuine concern reflecting in his eyes. That look—his love and care laid bare—made it nearly impossible to meet his gaze without feeling the familiar sting of guilt.

“Yes, I’m positive,” you insisted, a little too quickly, each word tinged with the quiet desperation to end this moment before it unraveled the fragile balance you’d built.

He studied you for a second longer, then finally relented, his lips curving into a playful grin that softened his expression. “Alright. See you tonight, my fiancée.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle squeeze into your shoulder, a touch that felt both reassuring and painfully kind, then turned to leave.

As Caleb’s footsteps faded, you pressed your hands to your face, hoping the gesture would somehow steady the turmoil raging within you. You barely registered the murmur of voices nearby, Maria’s urgent whisper as she seemed to be shooing someone away, trying to protect your fragile state. But it was all background noise, swallowed by the storm of memories and emotions battling within you.

And then, slicing through the haze like a knife, came a voice—low, rough, and achingly familiar. “Fiancée?”

Your breath caught, hands falling from your face as the weight of that single word hit you. You looked up, your heart pounding, and there he was, standing just a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made everything else vanish.

Your throat tightened, and every carefully rehearsed word you’d prepared over the past year unraveled, slipping through your grasp. His eyes met yours, his expression a guarded storm—intense yet impossible to read. His gaze dropped to the ring on your finger, lingering there for a heartbeat, before rising back to your face, a silent question hanging between you, heavy and unspoken.

Here he was, standing before you, so close and real it left you lightheaded. His hair was longer, the hard lines carved deeper into his face, yet he was unmistakably Joel. His scent filled the room, wrapping around you and making the air feel thick and close.

Part of you wanted to run up and hug him, while another part urged you to stay rooted where you stood. You didn’t know if you should feel anger, relief, or surrender to the familiar longing that had shadowed you since the day he left. All you knew was that he was here, right in front of you, and every boundary you’d built to protect yourself shattered in an instant, leaving you exposed and uncertain.

You met his gaze, and in his eyes, you saw a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name—a silent plea, an apology, a yearning that mirrored your own. For a single, fragile second, it felt as if the world had shifted, bringing you both back to a place you’d thought was lost forever.

And yet the weight of everything unsaid lay between you, heavy and unmoving, a reminder that time, no matter how forgiving, could never erase the pain of his leaving.

“Joel…” The word barely slipped from your lips, thick with disbelief, tangled in the torrent of emotions you’d fought so hard to bury. A raw ache pulsed in your chest, a visceral longing to close the distance. Every part of you yearned to reach out, to feel his warmth again, to let your guard down just this once.

But as quickly as that longing surfaced, a fierce anger ignited, burning through the tenderness with brutal precision. He had left—walked away without a word, without a promise, leaving you to stitch yourself back together alone.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze roaming over you slowly, lingering, as if he were trying to absorb every change, every detail he’d missed.

His eyes caught on the subtle things—the way your hair was now cut shorter, brushing your shoulders, framing your face in a way that seemed softer.

His gaze paused on the small scar near your temple, the faint line you’d earned after slipping on patrol one rainy night.

“Legs all healed,” he said quietly, his voice low, softened with a hint of something unspoken.

A surge of anger rose, fierce and unforgiving.

This was what he had to say? After all this time, after disappearing without a trace, without a single word to explain, to soften the blow of his absence?

Your fists clenched at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your frustration contained. It was almost infuriatingly, achingly Joel: reserved, withholding, as if the simplest words could somehow disguise the gravity of everything he’d left unsaid.

“I thought you were dead.” The words tore from you, your breath hitching as the weight of your own admission hit like a fresh wound.

You wanted to lash out, to demand answers, to make him feel just an ounce of the hurt he’d left behind. But at the same time, the sight of him—alive, here—brought a treacherous swell of relief, one that you knew could shatter you just as easily.

You could feel his presence hesitate, the weight of his guilt hanging thick in the silence between you. He shifted, his voice low and tentative as he took a small, cautious step closer. “I can explain everything,” he murmured, his tone cracking just enough to reveal the vulnerability beneath. “I had to leave—Ellie—”

But his words only fueled the fire raging within you, the weight of his explanation feeling hollow after everything you’d endured in his absence. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as the anger finally boiled over, raw and unrestrained, pushing past the walls you’d tried to keep in place.

It was all just too much. You felt your breathing quicken, your chest tight as the words forced their way out. “I don’t want to talk to you, Joel,” you choked, each syllable thick, laced with a raw pain you could barely contain.

You turned away, jaw clenched, every muscle taut as you struggled to keep yourself together, to keep the emotions from spilling out too easily, too freely. You told yourself to let him explain, to give him the chance to say whatever it was he’d come here to say. But you physically couldn’t—not right now, not with the weight of all those unsaid things pressing against the walls you’d worked so hard to build.

He flinched, the weight of your words crashing into him, and for a long, agonizing moment, silence filled the space between you, thick with the unspoken pain that had festered over the months apart. Your back was to him, so you couldn’t see the turmoil in his eyes, couldn’t witness the guilt that etched deep lines into his face, the regret that clouded his expression, or the flicker of shame that he couldn’t quite hide. But you felt it—the heaviness of his unspoken apologies, the remorse that seeped into the air like a confession he couldn’t bring himself to voice.

Behind you, he took a shaky breath,a sound barely audible yet brimming with everything he didn’t know how to say. He wanted to reach out, to touch your shoulder, to bridge the gulf of silence and tell you that he understood, that he was sorry, that leaving you had been the hardest choice of his life.

He murmured your name, soft and tentative, the sound of it almost cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid. “I need you to hear me out. Please. ” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, as though this was his last chance to set things right, and he knew how fragile that chance was.

“Joel!” you snapped, turning back to face him, the force of your voice cutting through the thick silence, slicing through whatever words he might’ve tried to offer. You weren’t going to let him lead this moment, not after he’d surrendered that right the day he walked away. “You don’t get to dictate how this conversation goes,” you bit out, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “You don’t get to come back here and act like everything’s fine, like you can just pick up and pretend nothing happened.”

Maria appeared in the doorway, her gaze flicking between you and Joel, taking in the elevated voices, the tension that thickened the air. She moved closer, a silent, steadying presence.

“Joel,” Maria said softly, her voice firm but compassionate as she placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back. “I think you should leave. Give her some space.”

Joel looked at her, the protest clear in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. His gaze lingered on you, his face etched with the kind of regret that could never undo the damage he’d done, and he nodded, stepping back. He didn’t say another word, only cast one last, longing look your way before turning, disappearing through the doorway.

As soon as he was gone, the floodgates opened. The sobs you’d been holding back broke free, and Maria wrapped her arms around you, her touch a balm against the wound Joel had torn open once again.

You let yourself collapse into her embrace, the weight of everything spilling out as you grieved for the love you’d lost and the anger that refused to let it go.

•••

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide the truth from Caleb. The subtle shifts in your mood, the faraway look that would creep into your eyes at the quietest moments—he noticed. The way you’d pull back when he reached for your hand, or how your laughter came slower, more forced, like it was an effort to keep up appearances. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring off into the distance, your mind clearly somewhere else, your expression unreadable.

You didn’t mean for the walls to build up between you, but every time he leaned in for a kiss, you’d turn your head just slightly, offering a cheek instead. Or when he’d wrap his arms around you, the warmth and comfort that once came so easily now felt hollow, as if you were slipping further away even when he held you close.

Concern etched itself across his features more often now, his brow furrowing as he studied you, trying to understand the weight that seemed to press down on you—a weight you couldn’t bring yourself to explain.

The life you’d begun to build with Caleb now felt tenuous, fragile, as memories of Joel wove themselves into the fabric of your days, filling the quiet spaces with a longing you could no longer ignore.

You felt yourself pulled in two directions, torn between the safe, predictable future you were crafting with Caleb and the inescapable, stormy memories of Joel. You knew it wasn’t fair to Caleb, this man who loved you openly, steadily. Yet the truth gnawed at you relentlessly, clawing at your heart with a ferocity you couldn’t suppress.

The thought of you had been his only constant, his lifeline through a year of darkness. It was your memory that kept him moving, kept him alive, though he’d never allowed himself to hope too much. Yet even so, he’d held onto some small, foolish belief that he might return to find you there, still his, still waiting.

But that belief was shattered the moment he heard the word “fiancée.” The word lodged in his chest like broken glass, tearing through every fragile hope he’d harbored in his solitude. He’d left you—what had he expected?

That you’d wait, frozen in time, clinging to a ghost, while he wandered through the ruins of his own making? Deep down, he knew he had no right to feel this way. But no amount of rationalizing could quell the wave of longing and regret that washed over him, drowning him in sorrow he’d been too proud to admit he still felt.

In his mind, he’d pictured a different reunion. He’d imagined you opening the door, seeing him there, and in one wordless moment, all the anger and confusion would dissolve, replaced by the warmth he remembered so vividly.

He’d let himself believe that, somehow, you’d forgive him. That the last year could be wiped away like a bad dream, that he could slide back into the life he’d left, as if time had paused just for him. But now, standing in the shadows of a life you’d moved on from, he felt the weight of reality crashing over him, sharp and merciless. The thought of you pledging yourself to someone else, to a man who wasn’t him—it twisted in his gut like a blade, a slow, painful reminder of all he had lost.

He could see it too vividly: you at the altar, radiant and sure, your hand in Caleb’s as you vowed to build a future together, while he remained a ghost, lingering at the edges of a life he’d once held close. Every breath felt heavy, each step like trudging through quicksand, weighed down by what could have been, what should have been if he’d only stayed.

Now, faced with the reality of you in someone else’s arms, he saw the truth for what it was—a cruel twist of fate, a cosmic joke played at his expense, showing him just how deeply he’d betrayed his own heart.

•••

Your stomach churned as you stepped into the warm glow of the dining room, each step weighted with the knowledge that Joel and Ellie would be there. The familiar comfort of Maria and Tommy’s home, usually so cozy and inviting, felt stifling now, any sense of ease dissolving the instant your eyes fell upon them, already seated at the table. Joel’s presence struck you like a blow, a visceral ache twisting inside before you could even take a steadying breath.

Maria caught your eye, a silent apology flickering in her gaze, her face soft with sympathy. She knew—perhaps better than anyone—just how deep the turmoil ran, and that quiet understanding both soothed and sharpened the ache within you. You mustered a tight, brittle smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the vulnerability clawing at the surface, the storm of anger and longing that you couldn’t seem to keep buried.

Caleb, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening the air, greeted Joel with an easy, wide smile, reaching out his hand in a friendly gesture. “Good to finally meet you, man! Heard lots of good things from the lesser Miller,” he joked, his voice warm, light, as if this were any ordinary dinner.

But Joel didn’t mirror the warmth. His handshake was brief, his expression unreadable, a careful mask that betrayed none of the raw intensity in his eyes. His gaze lingered on Caleb, sharp and assessing, a look so intense it felt as if he were trying to unearth every layer of the man in a single glance. It was a look that could have cut through steel, and though Caleb remained blissfully oblivious, his attention already drifting back to the table, you didn’t miss the way Joel’s gaze flickered—piercing, as if marking territory only he hadn’t been there to guard.

The unspoken animosity lingered, thickening the air, a silent reminder of everything left unresolved. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, even after he’d broken the handshake, a silent, smoldering intensity that both drew and repelled you. It was a weight, an ache that you couldn’t ignore, and as the meal began, you steeled yourself, forcing a polite smile, hoping it would hold against the flood of emotions Joel had stirred just by being there.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself slipping into a quiet detachment, shielding yourself behind a protective shell as Caleb animatedly shared stories with the group. His hand rested on yours, his grip warm and reassuring, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture that was supposed to comfort.

Every so often, he’d lean over to press a kiss to your temple, his easy affection filling the room with a softness you wished you could fully appreciate. But each touch felt like a reminder of something missing, a bittersweet ache for what once was—or perhaps what had never fully been.

From across the table, you felt Joel’s eyes on you, each glance he stole heavy with unspoken words, charged with a silent intensity he couldn’t quite hide. His gaze flickered to his glass, lingering just a second too long, but you caught the way his attention drifted to your hand, to the engagement ring resting on your finger.

A shadow crossed his face—a sadness, a yearning that seemed to seep into the air between you, carrying the weight of everything left unsaid. It was as though he was reaching out without words, trying to bridge a chasm he’d created.

And despite all of it - Joel looked good—better than you remembered, in a way that stirred something raw and unguarded within you, a heat only he seemed capable of igniting. The year had added a ruggedness to him, etched resilience into his already broad shoulders and forearms, the faint lines of muscle visible beneath the rolled sleeves of his well-worn shirt.

His hands, calloused and rough, rested on the table, hands that had once held you in the dead of night. Somehow, seeing them now felt as if they still did, as if the memory of his touch lingered just beneath the surface of your skin.

His hair was longer too, tousled and curling at the nape in a way that softened his ruggedness just enough to make him almost unbearably alluring. And then there were his eyes—dark, deep, brimming with that familiar, knowing intensity that you could feel across the table like a physical touch.

Each time his gaze met yours, it lingered a beat too long, his stare unfaltering, as though the room around you didn’t exist, as if every glance held an unspoken promise, a shared secret only the two of you could ever understand.

He held his glass of whiskey with a languid ease, his fingers tracing along the rim in a slow, almost teasing motion, his mouth brushing the edge with a deliberateness that felt like it was meant only for you.

Every time he took a sip, his lips—soft, pink, plump —lingered against the glass before he would flick his gaze to you, as if challenging you to look away. And when he licked them after each bite, a small, casual motion, it stirred thoughts you’d fought so hard to bury.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said there hadn’t been nights when you lay in bed, wide awake, caught in the silence, thinking of him, of the things those mouth and fingers could do to you.

You couldn’t stop stealing glances, couldn’t stop the way your eyes kept drifting back to him despite yourself, even though each look sent warmth rising to your cheeks, your pulse racing.

And he’d noticed.

The faint, knowing smirk that played on his lips told you he’d caught you watching, that he was well aware of the effect he had on you, as if he could feel the quiet tension simmering beneath the polite hum of conversation.

Embarrassed, you forced yourself to look away, clutching onto your resolve with both hands, trying to anchor yourself in the life you’d chosen, the path you’d carefully laid out.

For the rest of the evening, you avoided his gaze, eyes trained on your plate, your smile tight as you nodded and laughed at the appropriate moments, barely hearing a word that was spoken. The laughter of others became a distant hum, a background noise to the storm churning beneath your surface as you fought to keep the memories and feelings from flooding over.

You cursed yourself for letting these thoughts creep in.

You were engaged to Caleb, a man who represented everything you’d promised yourself you wanted—a life that was steady, loving, free of ghosts and the painful pull of the past. And yet, here you were, Joel’s presence tugging at you with a force that defied all logic, a gravity you couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you tried to bury it.

Caleb’s laughter echoed through the room, pulling you from the trance Joel’s presence had cast over you. He was in the middle of an animated story, his voice bright and infectious as he spoke, his hands moving to emphasize each detail.

��And there was this one time—remember the flock of birds that came out of nowhere? She was so slow, I thought she was going to trip over her own feet!” he laughed, looking to you with a playful grin.

A laugh slipped from your lips, genuine and unexpected, the memory of that chaotic day flashing back. You shook your head, letting yourself be swept up in the moment. “I swear, I was running as fast as I could! You make it sound like I was moving in slow motion,” you protested, grinning despite yourself.

Ellie, mid-bite of mashed potatoes, grinned as she interjected, “Oh, come on, that’s not fair! She had a broken leg for a while—cut her some slack!”

Caleb’s laughter faltered, his eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise as he turned to you, half-amused, half-bewildered. “Wait—hold on. You had a broken leg? And I’m just hearing about this now?” His question was light, casual, but as it lingered in the air, it seemed to grow heavier, drawing a line between the life you’d led before and the one you’d built with him.

You forced a smile, shrugging with as much casualness as you could muster. “It wasn’t a big deal—just one of those things,” you said, hoping to glide over the subject, to keep it light and insignificant. But as your gaze drifted across the table, your heart sank. Joel’s expression had shifted; his posture was alert, his eyebrow lifting with that unmistakable, almost mocking look that said, I guess you haven’t told him everything.

The intensity in his gaze was nearly unbearable, piercing through the room, slicing through the thin layer of calm you’d tried to maintain. His eyes held an unspoken accusation, a reminder of the quiet, unbreakable bond that had once connected you, of the parts of yourself that you’d buried—the memories and scars that only he knew. His stare didn’t relent, as though he was silently demanding that you admit to those pieces of your past, the stories you’d kept locked away, the parts of you that still felt tethered to him.

“Yeah,” you replied, a hint of defensiveness slipping into your tone. “But that was… before we met.” You avoided everyone’s eyes, your gaze dropping to your plate as you absently nudged the carrots and peas around, focusing on the swirl of orange and green rather than the tension gathering at the table. The words felt flimsy, like a fragile barrier meant to shield a history you weren’t ready to confront, a part of yourself you’d carefully tucked away, hoping it might stay hidden.

Ellie leaned back, clearly enjoying the moment, her grin mischievous. “Oh, it was pretty bad. Joel was basically her live-in caretaker,” she teased, her tone light and playful, though an edge in her voice suggested she understood far more than she let on. “Though, honestly, it should’ve been the other way around—get it? Because he’s, like, old!” She flashed a wide grin, glancing around the table, expecting laughter to fill the air.

Instead, her words landed in a silence heavy and thick, one that turned each glance into a loaded question. Caleb’s eyes flicked to you, his brows furrowing, and you could feel the weight of his unspoken questions pressing in.

Ellie’s grin faltered as the silence stretched, her gaze flickering nervously between you and Joel. She’d sensed the shift, the subtle but unmistakable tension she’d accidentally stirred up, and the humor faded from her face.

The past was no longer a distant memory—it was here, sitting at the table with you, unspoken yet painfully present.

Caleb, blissfully unaware of the shift but clearly sensing something beneath the surface, glanced between you and Joel with an innocent curiosity.

“Oh, I didn’t know you two lived together.” His tone remained light, but confusion had crept into his gaze, searching yours as though trying to fill in a part of your story he’d never been given.

You’d never intentionally kept secrets from Caleb, but Joel wasn’t just a secret—he was an entire chapter of your life that belonged to a different world, a version of yourself that no longer felt real, even if the memories still lingered. How could you explain it to Caleb? How could you paint Joel as anything less than the force he had once been in your life?

“It was only for a bit,” you replied, forcing a lightness into your tone as you took a sip of your wine, hoping to brush the topic aside as a minor detail, something insignificant. But as you felt the weight of Joel’s gaze on you, the room seemed to grow warmer, a flush creeping up your cheeks that had nothing to do with the wine. You could feel the heat rising, making it hard to swallow, each sip meant to steady you only accentuating the tightness in your chest.

When had it gotten so hot in here? You fought the urge to shift in your seat, to break the tension you felt simmering beneath the polite surface of the dinner. You glanced down at your plate, hoping to regain some composure, but you knew Joel was watching, his eyes filled with that piercing intensity, refusing to let you dismiss the memories so easily.

Then suddenly, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady, his eyes catching yours with a glint that held something almost taunting, an edge that refused to be brushed aside.

“Only a bit?” he echoed, his gaze locked onto yours, holding you in place with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, making your stomach twist. “Guess you’ve forgotten all those late nights talking,” he added, each word laced with a quiet challenge, daring you to remember everything you were so desperately trying to downplay.

And he had the audacity to say it so shamelessly, all while taking a casual bite of his food, as if his words were nothing more than light conversation.

Joel wasn’t finished, though. With a slight smirk tugging at his lips, he leaned back, clearly savoring the reaction he was drawing out of you. “Hard to forget, seeing as we spent half those nights sharing that tiny bed,” he added, the words slow and deliberate, his voice low and rough around the edges. He paused, his gaze lingering on you, eyes glinting with both mischief and a darker, unmistakable heat.

Then, almost casually, he turned his attention toward Caleb, as if sharing some harmless piece of trivia. “She’s scared of the dark,” he said, his tone light, but there was an edge there, something that cut deeper than the words themselves. It was a quiet claim, an assertion that he knew parts of you no one else did.

The words hit like a slow-burn revelation, layered with implication that was impossible to ignore. Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed, a flicker of suspicion flashing across his face as he glanced between the two of you, his easy smile fading.

You felt your mouth drop open slightly, caught off guard, and heat rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled for a way to brush it off. The silence that followed was thick, the weight of Joel’s statement casting a shadow over the table, an undeniable hint of a history you could no longer deny.

You didn’t need to look around to sense the ripple of reactions that Joel’s words had set off around the table—the charged silence that had fallen, each person’s unease hanging thick in the air.

Tommy cleared his throat, his discomfort plain as he latched onto the first excuse to escape the tension. “Y’all hear the baby crying?” he mumbled, though the room was quiet. “I better go check on her.” He stood up quickly, his eyes avoiding everyone as he slipped away, relief flashing briefly across his face.

Beside him, Maria’s expression softened, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and caution, her lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. Her eyes flicked between you, Joel, and Caleb, clearly aware of the storm Joel’s words had stirred and how close everything was to spilling over.

Caleb, on the other hand, sat with an uncertain smile, clearly sensing that there was more beneath the surface but struggling to grasp the weight of the moment, his curiosity tempered by a discomfort he couldn’t quite hide.

Ellie, meanwhile, sat back in her chair, eyebrows raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. She seemed both entertained and unfazed, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a spark of curiosity, as if she were watching some long-awaited drama finally unfold. The air between all of you thickened, heavy with unsaid things, each person holding their breath in their own way.

Sensing the tension, Ellie cleared her throat, her voice taking on an exaggerated brightness as she tried to steer the conversation toward safer waters.

“So… anyone got fun plans for the winter holidays?” Her attempt at cheer cut through the thick silence, a flicker of relief on her face as if hoping it would lighten the mood.

But her words were met with silence, the weight of Joel’s remark still lingering in the air, too heavy to brush aside. You felt the heat of everyone’s gaze on you, the pressure becoming unbearable, and finally, you stood, forcing a tight smile. “Excuse me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, and slipped out of the room.

•••

Later, standing at the kitchen sink, the rhythmic flow of water provided a small reprieve, a focus to quiet the turmoil of emotions still swirling in your mind. The evening had left a lingering ache in your chest, the weight of unspoken words pressing down as you scrubbed each dish with more force than necessary.

Caleb had left with a soft kiss to your temple, his eyes catching yours in a look that conveyed a clear message—we’re going to talk about this later. His departure was marked by a conspicuous silence toward Joel, a small but unmistakable omission that hung heavy in the room long after he’d gone.

Alone now in the quiet kitchen, you let out a shaky breath, your hands scrubbing at a plate that had long since been clean. The weight of the evening settled on your shoulders, memories and unresolved feelings swirling like a storm you’d been trying to outrun. The steady trickle of water was the only sound, but even that couldn’t drown out the ache of everything left unsaid.

And then you felt it—the unmistakable, familiar weight of someone behind you, the air shifting, thickening with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. You didn’t need to turn to know it was him; the space between you filled with the quiet, electric tension that only Joel could bring.

“What do you want?” you murmured, your voice low, edged with exhaustion, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of your gaze. You kept your eyes trained on the plate in your hands, scrubbing at it with a single-minded focus that bordered on desperation, as if the act alone could somehow chip away at the tension lodged in your chest like a stone.

Behind you, you felt Joel, the silence stretching thin and taut, pulling at the edges of your already fragile resolve. And then, finally, he spoke—a single word, low and raw, “You.”

You swallowed hard, clinging to some semblance of control. “You’re drunk, Joel,” you said, trying to dismiss it, to brush off the weight of his confession as if it didn’t send your heart racing.

But the simplicity of that single word—you—struck you, piercing through every defense you’d carefully built. You gripped the plate in your hands like an anchor, as though it could steady you against the gravity of that word, of him standing so close, vulnerable in a way you’d never thought you’d see.

Before you could even truly process the shock of his admission, his voice cut through the stillness again, stronger, rougher, his words spilling out as if they’d been held back for so long it physically hurt to release them. “Don’t marry him.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and uninvited, slicing through the delicate calm you’d tried to cultivate, fracturing the fragile sense of stability you’d clung to.

This was uncharted territory—a truth that neither of you had ever dared speak aloud, not in the hidden moments you’d shared, not in the silent glances or lingering touches. To admit this, to break the unspoken pact you’d both followed so carefully, was seismic, a step into something vast and dangerous.

You turned, slowly, meeting his gaze at last, and the look in his eyes stole the breath from your lungs. His expression was laid bare, raw, the depth of longing there almost too much to bear. This wasn’t a casual confession, and the words weren’t just fleeting emotions flaring up in the heat of the moment.

No, this was something different, something he’d carried with him through every mile, every sleepless night away from Jackson. You could see it—the weight of a year’s worth of loneliness and need, the visceral realization that he needed you in a way that he could no longer deny.

“Don’t marry him,” he repeated, his voice trembling with an urgency that hit you like a wave, raw and unguarded. He took a step closer, his gaze intense, each word pressing into the space between you with an unyielding force. “I don’t want to live like this anymore—pretending like you don’t mean everything to me.”

His hand clenched at his side, as though he was fighting the urge to reach out, to close the distance and make you feel the truth of his words. “I didn’t come back to Jackson just to hide. I’m done hiding,” he murmured, the roughness in his voice betraying how much he’d held back, how deeply he’d buried it all. His eyes searched yours, as if willing you to understand the depth of what he couldn’t contain any longer.

“I need you to know…” His voice broke slightly, the weight of the words almost too much for him to bear. “I need you to know what I feel.”

His words hung between you, each one thick with conviction, and for the first time, he’d made it known—no more secrets, no more hiding behind the past or the lives you’d tried to build apart.

He was standing here, stripped bare, willing to risk it all. And as you looked into his eyes, a chasm of emotion stretched between you, one that neither of you could ignore anymore, a truth that had always existed but was finally spoken aloud.

The pain in his eyes was unguarded, his desperation palpable, and you could see it—an almost frantic pleading that softened the edges of his usual stoicism. But that rawness, that vulnerability, only made it harder to hold onto your anger. You felt the weight of his gaze pressing into you, silently asking for a forgiveness you weren’t sure you could offer, a connection you weren’t sure you could endure.

Though his words tugged at your heart, filling you with the relief you hadn’t even known you were holding your breath for, there was something else there—anger, hot and unrelenting, burning through the quiet yearning. These were the words you’d yearned to hear, yes, but they came wrapped in a pain you couldn’t ignore.

“How dare you,” you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor from your voice, the words slipping out raw and edged with fury.

His gaze flickered, his face drawn tight as he struggled to find the words. “I didn’t have a choice,” he replied, his voice rough, the weight of it hanging heavy in the air, a justification that felt as fragile as it was final.

You scoffed, the anger flaring higher, spilling over as years of unresolved feelings surged to the surface. “There’s always a choice,” you shot back, each word sharp, laced with the bitterness of wounds that had never fully healed.

“You didn’t have to leave me like that, Joel. Without a word, without even a hint that you were coming back. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the burn of them blurring your vision as the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. “I thought you were dead, Joel,” you whispered, barely holding back the wave of emotions crashing over you.

The grief you’d buried, the emptiness you’d carried for so long, all of it resurfaced now with a vengeance. “I had to mourn you—every day, every night, wondering if you were out there somewhere or if this world had swallowed you whole.”

He shifted, his jaw tightening, but he remained silent, his eyes filled with something dark and unreadable as he watched you, taking in every word, every tremor in your voice.

You took a shaky breath, the weight of the words settling over you, but the anger remained fierce, stoking the fire that had smoldered beneath the grief all this time. “And now, here you are, expecting me to drop everything just because you’re back, because you decided it was finally time to show up and tell me how you feel?”

Before you could pull away, his hands came up to cradle your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a rough, familiar tenderness that unraveled your defenses one touch at a time. Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor, clinging to the remnants of your anger, but he tilted your chin, gently forcing you to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was nearly unbearable—haunted, pleading, raw with a vulnerability you’d never seen before.

“I’m here now,” he whispered, his thumb skimming softly over your cheek, his touch achingly tender against the whirlwind of emotions crackling between you. “I’m here now, and I want you—no… I need you.”

His words settled over you, each syllable sinking deep, loosening the walls you’d tried so hard to build. His eyes, dark and unguarded, searched yours with a desperation you hadn’t seen before, a vulnerability that struck at your core.

He was looking for something—forgiveness, maybe, or hope, something to hold on to, some small assurance that he hadn’t lost you completely.

The air between you felt charged, alive with the ache of love and the bitterness of loss, thick with things that could never be undone. You felt yourself trembling beneath his touch, suspended in the pull between the pain he’d caused and the undeniable connection that still tethered you to him, no matter how hard you’d tried to deny it.

“Well, Joel,” you whispered, voice breaking as the flood of emotions finally surged forward, “I needed you. I needed you here.” The words slipped out, barely audible yet carrying years of hurt. “And you just… disappeared.”

He held your gaze, unflinching, his eyes steady, piercing, as though he could see through every defense you tried to keep up. “Come here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent, a quiet demand that tugged at something deep within you. Before you could protest, he pulled you in, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace, pressing your cheek to his neck where his scent, familiar and grounding, surrounded you.

The tension in your body began to dissolve, your walls crumbling under the weight of his presence, the way he held you like something precious, irreplaceable. You felt the tears slip free, wetting his shirt as he held you tighter, as if he could shield you from every ache you’d carried alone.

Slowly, he drew back, his hands coming up to cradle your face, as though he couldn’t bear to go a moment without touching you. His thumbs traced a gentle line along your cheeks while he looked at you with a softness that left you feeling utterly exposed, seen in a way no one else ever had, as though he was reaching through every barrier you’d ever put up, seeing the parts of you you’d never let anyone else find.

His thumb lingered, his touch gentle but deliberate, leaving a warmth that spread through you with each stroke. “I know you feel it too, don’t you, darlin’?” he murmured, his voice thick with longing, every word weighted by unspoken moments, things left unsaid for far too long. His gaze held yours, and in it, you saw everything he’d been holding back, a yearning that matched your own.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes. “I saw the way you were lookin’ at me tonight… at dinner.” His voice softened, dipping to a murmur as his thumb brushed your cheek again, lingering as though he didn’t want to let go. “You can’t tell me that was nothin’.”

His words struck you like a lightning bolt, raw and unfiltered, his quiet confidence cutting through every barrier you’d put up. Your stomach twisted, your pulse racing, the way he saw right through you stirring feelings you’d tried so hard to bury.

He knew how deeply you wanted him, knew that the pull between you hadn’t dimmed, and now, with every word, he was stepping over every line, breaking down every silent rule you’d tried to enforce, leaving you defenseless in the wake of his honesty.

The faint scent of whiskey lingered on his breath, blending with the warmth radiating from him, and you found yourself drowning in the details—the worn lines of his face, the way his lips parted as if waiting for you to respond, to give him any sign.

Your throat tightened, the words slipping away as you stammered, caught between his gaze and the undeniable force drawing you closer to him. “I—I…” Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel every nerve alight as his fingers brushed over your wrist, grounding and unsteadying you all at once.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a sad, almost desperate smile. “You can tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice so low it was barely more than a breath. “But I don’t think you want me to. Hell, I don’t think I even can.” He leaned in, and the air between you thickened, so charged with unspoken longing you felt like you might drown in it.

His face was close enough that you could see every line etched into his brow, the way his eyes lingered on your lips, as though he was just as close to breaking as you were. You hated yourself for it, but you leaned in too, your body betraying the logic your mind clung to.

“Joel…” His name slipped from your lips, barely audible, a breath caught between resistance and surrender. But he was already closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his gaze moving over your face like he was memorizing each detail, each curve, each fragile expression you gave away.

“Say it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, a touch that felt like a quiet plea. “Tell me you don’t feel it. Look me in the eye, and I’ll walk away. I’ll stop. But if you can’t…”

He held you there, suspended between anger and longing, between the scars he’d left and the undeniable pull that still held you captive. In his eyes was an offering, a choice: to close this chapter once and for all or to risk everything and let yourself open to him again.

And in that moment, as his gaze searched yours, you felt every emotion—the hurt, the love, the longing—flood back in, an unspoken answer he was waiting for, an answer that might change everything.

“Stop.” The word sliced through the air, sharp and final. Gently, but firmly, you lifted his hands from your face, breaking the contact that had felt like both salvation and torture. You took a step back, feeling the space grow between you like an unbridgeable chasm, a boundary you could no longer allow him to cross.

“I can’t, Joel,” you said, your voice trembling, betraying the weight of your resolve. “It’s too late. Just… stop. Stop with the looks, the touching, and what you said tonight about us sharing a bed—what the hell were you thinking?”

The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered, each one coated with a desperation to hold onto the life you’d fought so hard to build in his absence. You glanced up at him, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes

His gaze held steady, undeterred by your anger, his eyes intense and unflinching. “What was I thinking?” he repeated, his voice low, the words thick with an unspoken ache. “I was thinkin’ I couldn’t sit across from you any longer, pretendin’ like there’s not still somethin’ between us.” He took a step forward, reaching for you, but you pulled back, unwilling to fall under his spell again.

“Joel, you had your chance,” you whispered, your voice barely holding together as the pain in your chest deepened, sharp and unrelenting. “You don’t get to come back now and act like nothing’s changed.”

He looked down, his jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, laden with regret. “I know I messed up,” he murmured, each word filled with remorse that hung heavy between you. “But I can’t stand here and pretend you don’t still mean everything to me.” His gaze lifted to meet yours, and in that moment, his eyes held a sincerity that cut through every defense you’d tried to build, making it nearly impossible to look away.

“It’s too late, Joel,” you replied, each word a painful truth you forced yourself to accept. “You made your choice. I moved on. I had to.”

He stared at you, his expression wavering between disbelief and desperation, as if the weight of your words was too much to bear, as if he hadn’t realized until this moment what his leaving had truly done to you. His lips parted as though he might say something, but the words died on his tongue, his eyes searching yours, pleading silently for some trace of forgiveness. But you held steady, your heart splintering with the resolve you’d fought to keep.

“I’m marrying Caleb,” you whispered, each word feeling like a nail sealing shut the door to everything you’d once shared. You watched as the last glimmer of hope in his eyes faded, leaving only a raw, quiet devastation that twisted something inside you, but you couldn’t falter—not now. You had to hold on to the life you’d built, to the stability you’d found, even if it meant leaving this part of you—of him—behind.

The silence that filled the space between you was deafening, weighted with memories of a love that never bloomed and never faded, with words that had never been spoken. Joel’s gaze fell, and in the set of his shoulders, the defeated slope of his posture, you could see the impact of your words settle, the shattering pain of realizing that you were no longer his to lose.

Without another word, you turned back to the sink, the steady stream of water the only sound in the room as you focused on anything but the silent ache building inside you.

Behind you, you heard Joel’s footsteps, slow and heavy, each step echoing like the sound of a door closing.

You held yourself steady, refusing to look back, even as his presence slipped away, the sound of him fading from the room like the final echoes of a memory you’d never fully let go of.

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[hoshinasblade]

you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

[fayes-fics]

The Ballad of Blunt Pencil & Pizza Wheel

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Comedy texting fic. Childhood frenemies moving in together is a great idea. Isn't it?

Warnings: None really. Swearing, references to sex, masturbation, dirty talk and spanking. Frenemies to lovers. Comedy. A fuckton of sass. Bridgerton family shenanigans.

Word Count: 3.9k tricky with text fics ngl

Author's Note: Request fill for Anon (who wanted Ben and reader to have been secretly in love with each other and get together after she has a breakup). It might be slightly unusual, but it’s what the muse insisted on as a response. Thanks to the ever-patient @colettebronte, who willingly reads my silliness, including a partial version of this nonsense. Enjoy! <3

BB: *Fraggle Rock theme tune*

Y/N: Why don't you just say hello like a normal person? Y/N: *Insert sighing emoji here* (I can't be arsed to find it)

BB: Excuse me, this is actually a very supportive message BB: I heard from El you got dumped

Y/N: And how does an 80s kids' show theme song help me with that??

BB: Have you paid attention to the opening line??

Y/N: No…? Y/N: Too busy enjoying the rocking guitar tbh

BB: Fair BB: 🎶Dance your cares away, worries for another day🎶 BB: See?? supportive

Y/N: You are so weird Y/N: And also oddly accurate. He was a total muppet

BB: It’s taken you 30 years to figure that out?? BB: Sorry to hear it

Y/N: No, just… appreciating it. Well, you Y/N: Thank you, by the way

BB: 🫶😀

—

3 weeks later

Y/N: What is the capital of Burundi? Pub quiz is getting fractious

BB: Why don't you cheat like every other team and just use Google? BB: Why bother old friends?

Y/N: Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Charisma, I didn't realise your Tuesday night was so busy

BB: Friends don't leave friends who love pub quizzes out of their pub quiz teams 😛

Y/N: You're cute when you sulk Y/N: So… the answer?

BB: I’m not Jeeves  BB: Look it up yourself

Y/N: Wow, you really are such a blunt pencil

BB: ??

Y/N: Pointless

BB: Alright, pizza wheel

Y/N: ??

BB: All edge, no point

Y/N: *has left the conversation*

BB: Typing it doesn't make it happen

Y/N: *HAS LEFT THE CONVERSATION*

BB: Neither does yelling it pizza wheel

Y/N: Don't make me call you pencil boy…

—

5 weeks later

Y/N: Pencil boy, it happened again

BB: Yeah… definitely don't like that BB: What did?

Y/N: Send TV theme…

BB: *Fraggle rock theme intensifies*

Y/N: Thank you

BB: No problems BB: Sorry to hear it

Y/N: Me too. Really thought this one would stick Y/N: He even liked my Cabbage Patch kids 

BB: You still have that shit?! BB: They are low-key terrifying

Y/N: He did turn them all around when we had sex though 🤔 

BB: Got his number?

Y/N: Why??

BB: Sort of agree with him on that. Might want to be his friend, not yours

Y/N: Shut up, Pencil Boy

BB: Pizza Wheel BB: We have to stop flirting like this 👀

Y/N: Pffft  Y/N: This isn’t flirting 

BB: Isn’t it?

Y/N: Are your clothes still on? 

BB: Well, yeah…

Y/N: Then it’s not my style of flirting 

BB: Bit slutty (supportive)

Y/N: The brackets saved you there, Pencil Boy

BB: Well aware BB: You’ll be okay. There’s someone better out there for you BB: Someone who appreciates Cabbage Patch kids

Y/N: THANK YOU. Was that so hard?

—

4 days later

Y/N: Can I call you?

BB: Yes of course BB: What’s wrong?

Y/N: Best explained over the phone  

BB: Okay. I’m here BB: Whatever you need

2 hours later

Y/N: Thank you friend Y/N: Just… thank you 

BB: Anytime 🧡 BB: I meant what I said BB: If you need it, it’s yours

Y/N: You are a great and wonderful friend Y/N: I may well do so 🧡

BB: You are always welcome here. For as long as you need

Y/N: 🫂😘

—

1 day later

CB: You invited Y/N to move in with you?!?!

AB: 😳 Surely not?!?! AB: He can only have one colossally bad idea a week and that hoodie was a choice

BB: Good evening to you too brothers BB: Hope you’re well BB: I'm fine, thanks. You?

CB: Yeah yeah whatever CB: I don't see a denial here

BB: 🤷 

AB: You fucking idiot

BB: Why? I’m trying to help a friend here BB: I thought it was a nice thing to do?

CB: It is 

AB: Usually 

CB: There’s just one problem 

AB: You are completely in love with her and have been since you were 5

BB: Pffft BB: Please…

CB: That’s your denial??  CB: Even I could do a more convincing job than that

BB: Pen would suggest otherwise…

AB: Don’t fling mud to distract AB: We are talking about your stupidity atm, not his

CB: Oi

AB: Don’t even

BB: Listen… she just got dumped for the 100th time BB: Her flatmate is moving out cos they lost their job BB: She can’t afford the rent on her own or a place by herself at the moment cos she’s still burdened with debt resettlement from her criminal asshat ex from 2 years ago BB: She needs to be in London for her job and her parents have moved to Wales BB: What would you have done?

CB: Tell her to move in with El?  CB: Or literally any of her other friends?!

BB: Well I have a spare room…

AB: So does El

BB:

AB: Memes? Really?

CB: You’re just jealous cos you can’t figure out text attachments

AB: Shut up

CB: Kate thinks it’s hilarious

AB: Leave my wife out of this

*BB has left the group*

*AB added BB back into the group*

AB: You don’t get to quit being our brother 

BB: Shame

3 minutes later

CB: Wait… What did you mean about Pen?

AB: How can you be this stupid? I paid for you to go to Eton…

*BB has left the group*

AB: Can’t fault him this time tbh

*AB has left the group*

CB: Rude…

—

1 week later

EB: I have a spare room y'know

Y/N: I’m aware

EB: So why subject yourself to Ben?

Y/N: You are all so horrible about each other 

EB: And you love to watch it 

Y/N: 🤷‍♀️🍿 Y/N: Anyway, I’m here now Y/N: He bought new bedding for me 🥹 Y/N: I didn’t have the heart to tell him I already have 4 sets

EB: I know he’s my brother and thus deserving of shit. But don’t torture him too much

Y/N: What the fuck are you talking about?

EB: I suspect he has a leeedle crush on you tbh

Y/N: Pffft Y/N: No he doesn’t Y/N: All we do is call each other names and snark  Y/N: It’s been that way since 1994. I don’t see it changing anytime soon

EB: It’s like she’s never read Shakespeare

Y/N: That’s BenedicK, not BenedicT

EB: Funny how you knew exactly what play I was referring to, Beatrice

5 seconds later

Y/N: Gen… Is Ben into me?!

GD: What’s brought this on?

Y/N: Answer the question!

GD: Why are you asking me if my ex likes you?

Y/N: Please… You fucked like twice 3 years ago and are still friends Y/N: Don’t pretend there is any trauma here Y/N: I’d really like to know, seeing as I’ve just moved in with him 

GD: You fucking did WHAT?! GD: Why?!

Y/N: I needed a new place Y/N: He was the first to offer

GD: What kind of rash reason is that?! GD: I have a spare room GD: El has a spare room GD: Dave and the gambling debts in your name weren’t bad enough…? GD: It’s like you’re actively trying to live in a Greek tragedy, I swear

Y/N: Don’t invoke that shit’s name

GD: Sorry GD: But really…

Y/N: So you’re saying he’s into me

GD: For an intelligent woman, you know fuck all GD: Even about yourself

Y/N: Why are all my friends so rude to me?!

GD: Bitch please. You are so in love with him

Y/N: I’m not

GD: Yes you are  GD: He’s always the first person you text when you have a breakup

Y/N: Yeah… cos he’s the only one of my friends who ISN'T RUDE TO ME

GD: OR you always want him to be the first to know you’re single again

Y/N: Not sure I want to be your friend anymore

GD: Fine. Give me back my Canada Goose coat

Y/N: Let's not be too hasty now…

—

2 days later

BB: Do we have milk?

Y/N: How should I know? I don’t drink the stuff

BB: Aren’t you working from home today?

Y/N: Yeah? And?

BB: You have these amazing things called legs…

Y/N: I have a block button too y’know

BB: You wouldn't block the hero who single-handedly removed 2 spiders from your room last night

Y/N: … … Fiiiiine

20 seconds later

Y/N: We, or rather YOU, could do with some more

BB: Okay. Thank you

Y/N: If you’re in the mood, I wouldn't say no to some cheesecake

BB: I’m not in the mood BB: Mostly because you are lactose intolerant and won't stop bitching about the regret afterwards BB: I’ll get you some non-dairy brownies

Y/N: What kind of flatmate are you?

BB: The awful kind who looks out for your best interests

Y/N: Urghhh, the very worst

—

3 days later

Y/N: Bennnnnnn!! BEN!! SOS!!! Y/N: ANOTHER 🕷️

BB: It’s fucking 3am

Y/N: That's why I texted Y/N: So much politer than screaming and banging on your wall Y/N: It’s not my fault you live on some kind of spider superhighway Y/N: I never would have moved in here if I knew

BB: It’s harmless. Go back to sleep

Y/N: What about if this time it’s some poisonous one that crawled from a Shein package? And you wake up to a dead flatmate?

BB: Arguably, that’s appropriate payback for your endorsement of such a horrendous company

Y/N: I don't judge you for your odd shelf of little rocks Y/N: So don’t judge me for my sparkly shoe addiction

BB: How about I lend you a rock to throw at the spiders?

Y/N: How could you?!? I don't wish death upon them Y/N: Just for them to live their lives nowhere within my vicinity Y/N: You know you would have been back to sleep by now if you had just come in here?

BB: I’m aware BB: I have no idea why I’m still arguing with you on text BB: Slightly worried what that says about me tbh

Y/N: IT’S MOVING TOWARDS ME

BB: omw

—

9 days later

KB: You guys need to stop

Y/N: What? Y/N: Why are you texting from my kitchen?

KB: Look at yourself KB: It’s not your kitchen. It’s my brother-in-law’s

Y/N: I live here too, Kate

KB: And you need to stop

Y/N: STOP WHAT?

KB: Do you see where your feet are?

Y/N: ??On the sofa??

KB: They are in Ben’s lap

Y/N: And??

KB: He has his hands wrapped around your ankles

Y/N: And?? Y/N: I get cold. He helps me sometimes

KB: When are you guys going to admit to what is happening here

Y/N: NOTHING IS HAPPENING

KB: Sure Jan

Y/N: Get back over here with the Monster Munch. I need Netflix snacks, not judgement

KB: I’m just saying… I pulled this shit with Ant and you rightly called me on it

Y/N: MONSTER MUNCH KATE

KB: Don’t glare over at me like that. Way to make it fucking obvious…

2 seconds later

*BB added KB and Y/N to a new group*

BB: What are you two arguing about?!

Y/N: Mind ya business, Pencil Boy

KB: Your lack of decent snacks

BB: Not my area. She is responsible for all junk food purchases in this household. I will not be held liable.

3 seconds later

KB: Pencil boy??

Y/N: It's a long story

4 seconds later

*AB added KB, BB & Y/N to a new group*

AB: ARE WE WATCHING THIS FUCKING FILM OR NOT?!

—

1 month later

Y/N: Gen… I fucked up

GD: What did you do??

Y/N: I should never have moved in here

GD: Yeah, I told you that weeks ago GD: Why the sudden revelation?

Y/N: He has a girl here

GD: And?

Y/N: I can hear them… thru the wall

GD: Yikes GD: Go for a walk or something

Y/N: No Gen. It's worse Y/N: So much worse Y/N: I can hear what he is saying

GD: GO FOR A WALK

Y/N: Gen help Y/N: Help Y/N: H.E.L.P. Y/N: It's turning me on…

GD: I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW ANY OF THIS!

Y/N: I had no idea he was a dirty talker

GD: I could have told you that…

Y/N: Why didn't you?!

GD: Why would that ever be relevant to our friendship?!

Y/N: You know that’s my weakness Y/N: You should have WARNED ME

GD: HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO PREDICT YOU WOULD EAVESDROP ON HIM HAVING SEX?!

Y/N: This is so awful Y/N: I don't know what to do Y/N: I’m in a quandary Y/N: A damp quandary

GD: Eww T-M-FUCKING-I

Y/N: I might as well just masturbate at this point

GD: I am hanging up on this text thread GD: I’m also off to put this phone in Dettol. Don't text me again for another few days

—

2 days later

BB: Why are you avoiding me?

Y/N: I’m not

BB: Yes you are BB: You haven't been home the last two nights BB: El said you’ve been hanging around her place 

Y/N: Ok fine. I am Y/N: This is so awkward Y/N: I… I heard you Y/N: Having sex  Y/N: I’m weirded out, okay?

BB: Shit… BB: I’m so sorry  BB: I thought you were out on a date

Y/N: It got rescheduled

BB: I'm so sorry BB: Next time I have company, I will double-check if you are home first

Y/N: Thank you Y/N: I will do the same

BB: Much appreciated BB: So, will you come home?  BB: There’s a new series of The Cleaner tonight 

Y/N: It's not real blood, you know?

BB: I know, but it looks like it

Y/N: You can't keep hiding behind me. You miss key plot points. It's a comedy show, you know

BB: Just get back here, Pizza Wheel

Y/N: Calm down, Pencil Boy I’m on my way

—

9 days later

BB: Send him home

Y/N: ??

BB: You heard me

Y/N: Why are you eavesdropping on my Tinder hookup?

BB: Don’t make me come in there and be a caveman about this. Just… BB: SEND HIM HOME

Y/N: I need sex

BB: Not from a twat like that you don’t BB: When he is out of the bathroom, I want you to send him away

Y/N: … Fine

3 minutes later

BB: Thank you

Y/N: You owe me a bloody orgasm

BB: He was likely incapable of giving you one  BB: When you are sober, you will thank me BB: And probably regret that last comment

Y/N: I regret nothing Y/N: I DARE you Benedict fucking Bridgerton Y/N: I fucking DARE you to give me an orgasm

4 hours later

Y/N: Gen Gen Gen GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: I know it's 2am, you are probably asleep, but I have to tell you smthg right the fuck nowwww Y/N: So, Ben went all protector shit on a loser I picked up on Tinder Y/N: Made me throw him out Y/N: I bitched that he owed me an orgasm Y/N: Might have been a bit too sassy, too many drinks Y/N: Anyway GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: GENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN Y/N: He stomps into my room, and god, he just…. Y/N: ARGHHHHHHHH Gen, he just took me, like respectfully, but also not at all respectfully Y/N: HE GAVE ME TWO Y/N: I am floating on a cloud. I can't feel my fucking knees Y/N: My flatmate is the best fuck I have EVER had Y/N: THIS IS TERRIBLE AND WONDERUL Y/N:  I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE Y/N:  HELP  Y/N:  PS Pls don't tell anyone

20 seconds later

BB: Stop freaking out about what just happened and come back to bed

Y/N: Ben we just…

BB: I know. Active, enthusiastic participant here BB: Don’t spiral about it. Just come back to bed BB: We can talk in the morning

Y/N: Did we just ruin everything?

BB: How is that not spiralling? BB: Get your lovely arse out of the bathroom and back in this bed, y/n, or istg I will spank it

Y/N: 😲🥵

BB: Oh I see. Hmm BB: Good to know 😜

—

5 hours later

GD: WHAT THE SERIOUS FUCK?!?!?!?! GD: THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO?! GD: WHY DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?!? GD: CALL ME!!!!

2 hours later

EB: Why aren’t you at work today? Are you sick? EB: Did the Shein spider get you? 

1 hour later

EB: I guess it did  EB: Serves you right 😛

1 hour later

GD: WHY THE FUCK HAVEN’T YOU CALLED ME BACK YET? GD: I must have left like 10 missed calls by now

2 hours later

AB: Not to sound like a total dick, I know we’re family etc., but you are supposed to tell me if you’re taking a day off work Ben AB: Even nepo babies have some responsibilities

30 minutes later

KB: Why are Gen and El wondering where you are? KB: Text them, and also me now, too KB: I’m vaguely concerned but mostly nosey tbh

2 hours later

EB: ?????????

1 hour later

GD: Call me bitch.

2 hours later

CB: Where the fuck are you Ben?  CB: You never miss boys' night down The Ship normally?

30 mins later

Y/N: Uh hi 👋 Y/N: Sorry… Y/N: I uhh have been busy today

EB: Gen and I were ABOUT TO SEND OUT A SEARCH PARTY

Y/N: Please tell her I’m okay Y/N: I will call. Just not now

EB: Where are you?

Y/N: At home

EB: I am coming over!

Y/N: Please don’t

EB: Why not?

Y/N: Another time Y/N: I know I’m being all mysterious and shit Y/N: I will explain everything I promise

EB: Is Ben there?

Y/N: Yes

EB: Then tell him to look after you EB: I’m weirded out, you weirdo

Y/N: Oh he will  Y/N: I promise you he will Y/N: I errr won't be at work tomorrow either. Can you tell the boss?

EB: Are you sick?!

Y/N: Umm… yeah, let's go with that

EB: STOP BEING SO WEIRD

5 seconds later

BB: El, y/n is fine

EB: How is this any of your business?

BB: You literally asked for me to look after her 5 seconds ago

EB: How do you know that?! EB: Are you reading her texts?!

BB: She is showing them to me

EB: WHY!?! EB: What is this cloak and dagger shit?! EB: Did you fuck or something? Lol

1 minute later

EB: DID YOU?!?

1 minute later

EB: Y/N DID YOU FUCK MY BROTHER?!?

1 minute later

*EB added BB & Y/N to a new group*

EB: Answer me, you sneaky bitches

BB: We would appreciate some privacy at this time

10 seconds later

*EB added KB, AB, CB, PF, DB and SB to a new group*

EB: BEN AND Y/N ARE FUCKING

SB: Hello sister-in-law. Long time no chat. So lovely for us to catch up this way

EB: Don’t sass me Bassett

PF: Err okay. Why… why am I on this Bridgerton family chat?

EB: Bitch please, you are family. Well, you will be soon

PF: ??

*CB removed PF from the group*

AB: Subtle

DB: Super smooth

*EB added PF to the group*

EB: IS NO ONE GOING TO RESPOND TO THIS LIFE-ALTERING NEWS?

KB: I mean… we all knew it was going to happen

CB: Surprised he held out this long tbh

DB: He’s been in love with her since we were kids

EB: I thought he just fancied her a bit?!?!

AB: And they call ME the unobservant one?!

*PF left the group*

CB: Look what you did

*EB added PF to the group*

KB: Why did I marry into this family?

SB: I’ll take you for a drink sometime. You too Pen.

PF: ??

EB: You’re all useless.

—

2 days later

GD: *sings Where Do You Go by No Mercy tunelessly in your general direction*  GD: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yt-KMPvgKPo 

Y/N: Awful but also bangin cheese choon for a Sunday evening ngl

GD: SHE LIVES!! GD: El seemed to think you have been having nonstop sex since Thursday. GD: She’s also not handling that idea very well—lots of tequila.

Y/N: Not enough songs only have about 7 lyrics anymore. I miss the 90s.

GD: Avoiding that statement, huh?

Y/N: I will not dignify it with a response

GD: So that’s a yes

Y/N: 👀

8 days later

BB: I hate having a job 😘

Y/N: Me too… 😘 Y/N: I’ll be naked when you get home if that's any consolation

BB: I’m leaving now

Y/N: It’s only 11am lol Y/N: Stay there. I will see you later. It will be worth the wait. 😉

BB: You have been. BB: And I don't just mean today 😘

Y/N: 🥹 😘

56 days later

AB: Is this email for real?

BB: Yes. Yes, it is

AB: Wow. OK then AB: Congratulations

BB: Thank you. I'm very happy

AB: We can tell, brother, we can tell 

1 hour later

*KB added Y/N, SB & PF to a new group*

KB: Y/N, we meet every Wednesday for drinks. 

SB: Welcome to the fam, soon-to-be Mrs Bridgerton. It sucks; you are going to love it.

PF: Still not sure why I'm invited, but god, you guys are so much bloody fun I don't even care, lol.

10 seconds later

Y/N: Are you going to tell Pen, or should I?

KB: Naaahhh. It's more fun this way KB: Another very smart woman with a complete Bridgerton brother blindspot

Y/N: That sounds pointed

KB: You and me both, sister. You and me both.

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[leth-writes]

yandere reader x yandere batfam

SUMMARY: yandere batfam x yandere reader

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST 

Requests are open!

Just thinking of a yandere darling. You’re a little intense, maybe just on the creepy side of protective.

But you’re not very good at it 🙁

You’re stalking them, they’re stalking you as you stalk them, it’s a whole thing.

They honestly might be relieved. They know where you are at all times, they’ve long ago put a tracker on you, but having you always hovering around eases their worries.

Tim definitely hacks the bugs you’ve put on them, making sure you aren’t accidentally catching on to the fact they’re night-time vigilantes.

Overall, though, I can see them LOVING the trackers you try to place on them. You’re so clumsy about it anyone would notice, but they pretend not to, just so your self-esteem doesn’t get hurt.

It’s like a kitten trying to fight a tiger; the tiger’s playing, the kitten is unaware of how bad their odds are.

There’s no way you’d be able to break into the manor by yourself.

They see it as enrichment, they just… leave a single window open, on the ground floor, into a rarely used family room.

Once they catch you planting the bugs all over the room, not even bothering to make your way throughout the rest of the manor, they’ll spend more time in the room, playing up their personas.

Bruce is especially amused; he’s really playing up the ditzy Brucie persona around you, entirely so that he can get close to you without you suspecting he’s onto you.

You’re really protective over him; there’s been times you’ve been gearing up to fight some creep at a gala who won’t leave poor ol’ Brucie alone. 

He doesn’t need your help, he’s working on a case, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy, knowing you’re there. Even if there’s no way you’d actually be able to deal with the types of enemies he has.

You’re like pulling him off to the side, holding his hands in yours and staring at him so determinedly, eyes blazing. “Bruce, don’t be scared to tell me if someone’s bugging you, okay? I’ll handle it.” You tell him. Internally, Bruce is cooing. When he tells the others about it later, in the privacy of the cave, they’ll do the same.

You just think he’s too soft for this world. He needs protection! He thought Mexico was a continent!

He’ll definitely pretend to be super drunk just as an excuse to lean on you, his side pressed to yours and an arm slung around your neck. He loves the way he can feel the heat of your blush.

Dick is much the same way. You’ve signed up for his gymnastics class and you’re so determined to succeed at something he loves that he just can’t help but prioritize you. Some of the other students even complain about how obvious the favoritism is. Don’t be surprised if you miraculously win free 1-on-1 lessons with him. He just loves being able to physically touch and guide you, watching how flustered you get.

Sometimes you slip in a bit of information he knows isn’t really available to the general public, just little things about his time in the circus. It makes him happy to know how much time you’ve spent researching him, even if it is pretty baseline stuff, nothing too deep. He’s just appreciating your hard work!

Jason, you have a hard time with. He doesn’t appear in public often, so you spend most of your time just watching him read in the family room. He knows you’re reading the stuff he picks out, so he deliberately chooses books he thinks you’d like. 

When it comes to Tim, he’s definitely matching your freak. You get a tracker on him, he has 3 on you. He’s discreetly watching you watch him. 

Puts on a show, makes himself seem like any naive rich kid. You’ll never see the true predator until it’s too late.

Definitely fiddles with the trackers in his spare time, he loves being reminded of how much you love him; it plays right into those deep seated insecurities left over from his biological parents.

Damian is definitely the least subtle about it. He’s not gonna pretend to be something he isn’t, and he definitely wants you to step up your game. He’ll smash the trackers until you manage to get it into a satisfactory spot.

He will absolutely refuse to spend much time in the family room; he sees it as too easy. He wants you to work to learn more about him. His past is definitely one of the harder ones to dig up.

Cass can read the desperation on you, and just befriends you. She doesn’t really put up much of an act, and just satisfies your protective instincts by listening to your ‘suggestions’ about how awful her ‘friends’ are. They’re acquaintances at best, so you aren’t really accomplishing much of anything, but she feels it’s the thought that counts.

Just imagine when you’re finally kidnapped, and they’re like Surprise! We knew the whole time!

OH MY GOD THE HUMILIATION

They’re completely different than how you thought they were, and you slowly realize you’ve made a big fucking mistake, but oh well, it’s their turn now!

[jifloulette]

It reminded me of you.

relationships with blue lock boys as kpop songs . . .

pairing -> itoshi rin, bachira meguru, yoichi isagi x gn!reader (seperate !)

warnings -> some angst on some parts, swearing here and there, might be ooc ? not proofread !!

word count -> rin and yoichi's is 0.7k, bachira's is 0.9k

author's note -> please click the links on the song names !! it'll help you understand why i chose that specific song ^^

. . . itoshi rin !

♫ now playing . . run2u by stayc - - - next in queue . . save me save you by wjsn

You knew the risks of dating someone cold and stoic like RIN ITOSHI, hell you were even surprised that he liked you back. You knew damn well that you were going to get hurt in the process, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was to be with him. It doesn't matter if he's happy (you might not see it on the outside but being his s/o made you know how he is if he's happy), disheartened or upset. Your friends warned, fuck, even your classmates who you didn't even know or liked told you so. They just didn't know him like you did. Yes, you've gotten hurt before but he would ALWAYS apologize. You've learned to become patient for him during his breakdowns, he would say things like "I fuckin' hate my lukewarm brother." and "I need to become fucking better, how else am I.. gonna beat him..". You were confused whenever his breakdowns happened, it wasn't a weekly thing for him to do that, it only happened whenever you noticed him become tense and pressured. You didn't know why he hated his brother, I mean the Itoshi Sae? But you've never asked him about it, knowing he'd get agitated.

You were the first ever person he fell for, the first person he genuinely liked being around. RIN ITOSHI was scared for the first time again, scared that one day you might leave him too. Scared that he might scare you away because god, he knows how he acts whenever he's feeling distressed. He couldn't understand it, why have you stayed this long with him? Why did you treat him so differently? Weren't you just using him for his money and his fame? He knew the answers to all of his questions when one day, he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd accidentally lashed out his anger on you, the one person who he actually cared for. RIN ITOSHI had accidentally hit you, it didn't hurt much, yet it still alarmed you. He realized what he did just in time before he held you in his arms, apologizing over and over again as he cried onto your shirt. "Baby.. it's okay, really.." you said to him while caressing his hair. "N-no.. it's not! I'd accidentally hurt you, the one person I genuinely cared for..! H-how is that okay?!" RIN ITOSHI replied, you carefully asked him if he wanted to talk about why he felt like this to which he hesitantly said yes to. "I wanna know what happened, Rinnie.. don't try to hide it. I'll always be by your side", just by saying those words, RIN ITOSHI poured his heart out on his vent to you, saying that he felt distressed because he heard some of your classmates saying that his brother will always be better than him. He told you the reason why he hated his brother, he recalled the night where his brother said some things that was too painful to say out loud. After he was done, you held him in your arms once more, RIN ITOSHI couldn't take it anymore. He cried once again, asking you why you had stayed with him this long, why were you here listening to his vents, were you just getting dirt to gossip about him? You asked him saying, "Rinnie.. you wanna know why I've been here with you for so long?", he looked up at you with his beautiful teal eyes and simply nodded, "The only reason why I'm here with you is because I love you. Not for your fame, not for your success, and certainly not for your money but for you..", RIN ITOSHI was surprised, you really weren't using him? He had doubted you for a bit but oh, your tone while you said that to him made him believe that what you were saying is true. That's all that he needed to hear before hugging you tightly again, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Thank you so so fucking much, y/n.. you don't know how much I love you..", the black-haired boy in front of you said.

RIN ITOSHI now believes that true love exists, and true love is wherever you are. He didn't care if you saw him at his most vulnerable state, he knew you wouldn't gossip that to your other friends. RIN ITOSHI now knows the answers to all of his questions, he knows that you will stay with him until the end of times.

. . . bachira meguru !

♪ now playing . . love is lonely by NMIXX

BACHIRA MEGURU was convinced that you were his special someone. You were convinced that he was your special someone too. For all of BACHIRA MEGURU's life, he'd been lonely. Only sharing his love and appreciation to his mother who held deeply in his heart. The second you went up to him, asking if he was okay, he felt skeptical. He wasn't stupid, so he'd ask you if someone ordered you to come to him just to record him at his weakest. You were taken aback yet you knew what the others said about him and his "monster", you really could care less about what they said about him. "Huh? No.. I came here because I saw feeling down after classes ended." you replied, you took your hand out and asked him if he wanted to come with you to go to a place that was special to you. He was reluctant at first but eventually gave in. He'd noticed you in class before, you weren't like the others. You genuinely had a pure heart.

You ran in front of him while holding his hand still. BACHIRA MEGURU swore he felt a big, genuine smile starting to grow on his face. Were you the person the monster inside him was looking for? You introduced him to a small bench, not that far from the school. You told him how you discovered this place as you were randomly walking home and decided that it was gonna be your special place. You had brought fairy lights to hang on the trees that were around the bench. The two of you sat on it and it was as if fate that you guys fit perfectly on it. You went on rambling about how you'd always wanted to be his friend but you were to shy to ask him, and how he'd been the first ever person you had brought along to go here. He didn't even notice how there was light pink tint starting to grow on his face. Ever since then, you and BACHIRA MEGURU had been together as if the two of you were cursed for all eternity to be together, he wouldn't mind if that was the case.

It wasn't long before he had started to fall for you, just the way you would talk to him, take care of him, comfort him, and treat him as if he were an actual person were just a few reasons on why he'd fallen for you. If he could, he would rant on for hours and hours on why he likes you so much. Before he knew it, it had already been 6 months since the two of you had met. You'd asked him to go your guys' special place to which he had ecstatically said yes to. He obviously wanted to at least look good for you, even though you said that whatever he would wear, he'd still look good. The second he arrived at the bench, he saw that you weren't there which was strange.. He thought maybe you were just playing games with him. "Y/n! You can come out now~!" BACHIRA MEGURU shouted playfully, yet you still didn't come out. He noticed an envelope on the bench with a heart sticker on it, he knew that he would want you to open it knowing that only you and him knew about this secret hangout spot and thought you had left it for him to find. He noticed a handwritten "To: BACHIRA MEGURU, my best friend in the whole entire world" on it, and when he opened the envelope, a long piece of paper was in it. He slowly unfolded it and read the contents of the letter. "Dear Megu, I'm sorry I couldn't come to you face to face to tell you what I've been feeling recently. The thing is, the second you held my hand that late afternoon, I fell for you. Call it stupid but god, I immediately fell for you. The fact you didn't hesitate to come with me just made me blush thinking about it. I've always knew I liked you before we were even friends, but I just thought of it as infatuation. You really did prove me wrong because you were the person I've been meaning to find ever since I watched romance movies and discovered what love is. The fact you listen to my endless talks about whatever really made me fall for you even more! In the span of the 6 months of our friendship, you became someone that I loved being around with. I want to end our friendship though.. and maybe start having a new relationship, a romantic one. Soo.. what do you say? Will you accept?", the letter said and god did he fall for you even more. The fact that you loved him the same way he loved you, oh who was he kidding, he's head over heels for you. As he was coming to the end of the letter, a pair of hands slowly hugged him from behind. He knew it was you, he recognized your touch all too well. The second you hugged him, he turned around and picked you up. "Oh y/n! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day!" You were surprised, you really didn't expect that unpredictable action of his. Your smile became as big as the entire world to say the least, your eyes having some sort of sparkle in it. "So, do you accept..?" you asked gleefully, to which BACHIRA MEGURU replied by kissing you.

BACHIRA MEGURU had finally found the true meaning of love, it was the embodiment of you. The hardships of his life he had left behind due to you. He went inside the school campus with a smile on his face knowing you would be there waiting for him. BACHIRA MEGURU had finally fallen, he had let himself fall for you.

. . . isagi yoichi !

𝄞 now playing . . cool with you by New Jeans

If there was one word to describe how ISAGI YOICHI felt whenever he was with you, it would be comfort. Just being beside you, it would bring him to ease knowing that you were right there with him. You guys could be scrolling on your phones, showing each other different videos that reminded you guys of each other and he would already fall deeper in love with you. You understood him better than anyone else could, you knew what to do and what to say whenever he felt sorrowful. Whether it be losing a really really important soccer match or if he felt insecure and unconfident. Maybe that's why he liked you so fucking much. Your presence just soothes his soul, he didn't know how to explain it, it just did.

ISAGI YOICHI didn't always need for you to tell him how much you loved him, he could always feel it, as if the two of you were somehow telepathically connected. Just simply holding his hand, caressing his hair, and telling him how good he was at playing soccer was all he needed to know. People could see how deep the connection the two of you had, even before you guys were together. Whatever emotion he was feeling, it was almost as if you felt it the same way he did, maybe that's why the two of you had such a strong bond with each other. The two of you could go days and days doing the same thing over and over again but it wouldn't bore him, not when the person who he cherishes most was with him. Sometimes, ISAGI YOICHI finds himself zoning out during classes just thinking about you! He just can't help it, he's totally the type to chat you "I miss you" the second you part ways after walking home from school. He really cherishes every moment he has with you, even if he's not physically next to you, just seeing you makes him relaxed. That's definitely his motivation whenever you watch his games as well, just seeing you cheer your heart out for him, he can't help but drive himself to win, just for you.

Even if he knows how much he means to you, he sometimes can't help but doubt himself, he finds himself wondering if the effort he's putting into the relationship is the same as the effort you put in. "Baby.. do you think that sometimes.. I'm somehow lacking something in our relationship..?" the deep blue-eyed boy in front of you asks, "Huh? Love, of course not! You've given so much into our relationship, what else could I ask for?" you reply, your hand cupping his cheek. "'m sorry baby, I just felt down.." ISAGI YOICHI says, "Oh baby.. don't you ever think that you're dragging our relationship down, okay? I know you love me the same way I love you." you remind him, kissing his forehead. You see him blush and the tip of his ears turn red and you pinch his cheek as you tease him for being so so cute! "H-hey..! Why'd you just randomly pinch me!" the dark blue haired boy says, "Well, you're just so so so cute and I can't believe you're mine~!" you playfully respond. His face becomes even redder now that you said that. You chuckle at the sight of him and you pepper his face with kisses, on his lips, his neck, his jawline, his forehead, you bet that you didn't leave any part of his face untouched. It was moments like these in where he thought that the two of you were the only ones in the world, he has an album of memories in his brain stored with each and every memory the two of you had ever made. God was he crazy about you.

ISAGI YOICHI believed, no, he knew that you were his soulmate and that you knew that he was yours. He would find comfort whenever you were with him, and though he isn't the most verbally talkative lover, you knew how much he adores you. (Please let him daydream about how ethereal you would look at your guys' wedding, he would very much appreciate it, even if you find it funny)

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[hannieehaee]

hi! who in svt would be more likely to be a camboy as a side gig/job? i feel like maybe seungkwan cause we all know he feels comfortable in front of the camera and is great at knowing what the public wants, or mingyu cause he loves showing himself off🤭 i initially thought about wonwoo cause he does gaming streams but he’s wayyyy to shy i feel like he would rather keep his intimate time private.

i don’t remember if i already asked this sorry if i alr did!

18+ / mdi

content: camboy!seungkwan, smut, masturbation (m receiving), no x reader but you can assume the chatter is reader, etc.

wc: 710

a/n: i can imagine both but seungkwan's just such a natural entertainer i had to pick him hehe

masterlist

lovergirl98: take the top off baby !!!

- tip: $25

"oh? this thing? but i picked it out just for you. want it off that bad? what does everyone else think? should i take it off?", seungkwan used his index finger to tease at the strap of his tank top, lowering it a bit to expose his shoulder to the audience.

his words combined by his actions caused an immediate flurry in the chat, having it fill up with various comments parroting the original request and even throwing in more money into the fire to ensure it happened. seungkwan chuckled at the insistence, biting his lip at how easy it was to get his viewers fired up.

within seconds, the top was thrown across the room, leaving him in just his boxers as he leaned back on the headboard of his bed.

even more comments showed up, with some begging him to do the same to his boxers while others tried to convince him to play with his nipples.

both orders were promptly followed after a little more teasing from seungkwan, tsk'ing at his chat for being so needy.

"oh ... looks like there's nothing else to take off," he pouted, "what do my needy kittens want now? should i ... play with my cock? is that what you want?"

lovergirl98: wanna see u cum, pretty. gimme a show?

- tip: $50

"lovergirl ... someone's a bit desperate today, huh? this is your fifth tip today. might have to give you a private show for that," he winked before letting his hand go further south, enveloping his swollen hardness with a hiss.

he knew that such comments would get other of his viewers to follow in your path and donate more. seungkwan was already familiar with your username, and he had a lot of fun paying extra attention to your comments. he couldnt help being an appreciative man for all your support.

seungkwan continued to caress himself, starting off with a soft and slow pace and increasing as more comments popped up in encouragement for him to go harder, go faster. kwan drank it all in, using his other hand to occasionally palm at his balls or caress at his bare chest.

lovergirl98: sooo pretty. gonna make me cum with u

- tip: $20

"yeah? wish i could see, pretty," he cried out in the midst of his upcoming high.

he teased himself a few times, getting himself to his high yet stopping right before actually orgasming. meanwhile, he continued to mutter dirty words to his viewers, earning himself rewards for giving them a show of his not-so private pleasure.

"f-fuck, gonna cum. i ... shit, it's so good, fuck. wish you were here to ... to take it for me," he mewled, playing it up a bit for whichever viewer wanted to take claim of him.

and luckily enough, at least ten people donated right at that moment, all in differing amounts and all sharing similar sentiments of wanting seungkwan's spunk either in their mouths or in other parts of their body.

maybe it was a little egotistical of him, but such desperate displays of need for him were enough to finally make him finish. he could see himself in the view finder, looking at the same view his fans had of him as he squirted his cum all over his stomach.

after that, heavy breaths filled the room, occasionally interrupted by pings indicating even more donations from his subscribers.

"hmm, you were so good for me. look at the mess you made me do," he chuckled as he looked through his comments one last time, too exhausted due to the overstimulation he'd inflicted onto himself.

with that, he closed the tab, deciding to put an end to the stream before he fell in another rabbit hole of an orgasm. but even then, private messages popped up, with endless offers of a private show in exchange of heftier donations than usual.

lovergirl was there as per usual, making seungkwan chuckle at the insistence. it was endearing, he had to admit. he considered for a bit, but decided to put it in the back burner before heading over to the bathroom to wash himself up. a smile of satisfaction remained on his face in the meantime.

maybe next time.

a/n: this was different since it wasn't very member x reader but i hope u guys enjoyed anyways!

[themultifanshipper]

🟢 for Jenson button x reader? during his brawn days

It was a well-known fact that Jenson Button was a whore.

Which is something that infuriated you to no end as his PR manager.

Warnings: smut, PinMultipleVs sex, oral (jenson knows how to use his mouth, it's canon trust me bro), forced voyeurism (hear me out), sex tape, Jenson has a thing for begging, a lot of dirty talk, it's kind of cringe maybe? Idk you be the judge

2.9k words, and about ⅓ of that is fuck/fucking lmao

Requested from my prompt list

You'd never caught him really doing anything, which was a blessing.

Usually you'd let yourself into his hotel room in the morning because he was late (you always had a spare key for this exact reason) and find him in bed with someone (the number and gender of the persons will remain redacted).

You'd have to politely wake them up and tell them to leave, then give Jenson an earful about how he couldn't afford a bad rep now that he was leading a championship.

It was a familiar routine, he’d run around his room trying to gather his stuff, sometimes having slipped some underwear on, sometimes not, and winking at you cheekily the whole time.

He was hot, there was no denying that. His body was lean but toned from the hours he would put in at the gym, and doing… other activities. And that fucking smile would have swept you off your feet had you not been his PR manager.

But you were his PR manager, so anything happening between you two was a big no no.

However that didn’t stop your mind wandering. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be with him.

You’d heard stories and rumours about how good he was. And you’d heard proof of it too, whenever you had a room next to his in the hotel, or when you’d stop outside his driver’s room door listening to the high pitched moans of whichever paddock pass-gifted model was there that week.

And they weren’t fake. You could tell the difference.

Which is why today, you’d strolled into his driver’s room without knocking, because you’d listened in and heard only silence.

You only realised your mistake once your eyes landed on him, on his single bed with a model on all fours, taking his hard thrusts with a makeshift gag that looked suspiciously like one of his shirts.

It was completely muffling the poor girl’s moans, tears running down her cheeks as Jenson pounded into her.

“Jenson!” you hissed, quickly shutting the door behind you. “Anyone could have walked in!”

He wasn’t deterred in the slightest and he just kept going while he replied.

“Well I’m glad it was you, then, because you can’t get me fired”

The fact that he was still balls deep in the woman, who’s arms had buckled and was now face down on the small bed, was rendering you almost speechless.

You’d never actually caught him in the act before, and it was quite a sight to behold. His muscles bulged with his rough movements and there was a deep blush on his neck and chest.

You refused to look at his dick, you feared that if you did, you might never look away.

“Jenson, stop this! I’m serious, we need to talk about that disaster of a practice session!”

He just chuckled and carried on.

“Jenson!”

“Okay fine! Just give me a minute to make her come, I never let a girl leave unsatisfied…”

Your jaw dropped at his audacity. What the fuck.

He leaned over her, mouthing at her neck while one of his hands went down to circle her clit roughly.

“You going to come for me sweetheart? Going to come so that this lovely woman can kick you out and yell at me for fucking you where anyone could see us?”

You saw red and the woman saw white, you clenching your fists as you held back from swinging at the man, her cunt clenching around Jenson as she wailed into the gag.

Needless to say the girl didn’t stay very long after that…

And Jenson had the decency to look slightly afraid as you screamed at him for the next half an hour.

He’d never seen you this angry, rage seeping through your every pore at the fact that he was careless and reckless, and quite frankly irredeemable in terms of PR. And you told him that you wished that you’d been hired by any other driver. Yes, even Sebastian fucking Vettel, because at least he hides the fact that he’s a complete whore!

You didn’t speak to him much over the next few days.

The truth is you were angry. So angry, at him for being a dickhead, but most importantly at your brain for replaying the whole thing over and over again.

The image of his strong body pounding into that woman… you shuddered. You didn’t even know her name, and you were fairly sure Jenson didn’t either, the sexy bastard.

You knew you had been a bit harsh with him, but part of you hoped he would take your words as a kick in the arse and change his ways.

Well… you were sadly mistaken.

A few days later he knocked on the door of your office with the kind of news that no PR manager ever wants to hear.

“You fucking what?!” you shouted angrily.

He flinched and ducked as you threw a book that was lying on your desk at him.

“A fucking sex tape?! You twat!” you paced around your office as he cowered on the couch.

“Could you be any more of a fucking idiot? What were you thinking?”

He picked at the skin of his nails. “I wasn’t thinking…”

You halted in front of him. “You can fucking say that again!”

You paced some more while he explained the whole situation.

A few months ago he’d filmed himself fucking his ex and now she was hungry for money and was blackmailing him. Unfortunately he had ignored all previous threats, and the video was now trending on Pornhub.

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands as you tried not to cry.

“Show me” you said dejectedly after a few minutes of silent thinking.

“What?”

You sighed. “Show me” you got up and motioned to your seat. “Find it and show me. I need to know what I’m dealing with here. Maybe there’s a way of pretending it isn’t you or something”

He looked almost sheepish as he shuffled over and hovered in front of the seat.

“Are you sure? I uhm….”

“Oh I’m sorry” you snarled sarcastically, “would you rather I didn’t see it? Are you shy now? You weren’t shy when you fucked that other woman in front of me, now sit the fuck down and find me the fucking tape, Jenson!”

He sat down and did as he was told, for once, and the thumbnail was enough to make you groan.

“Really Jenson? In your race suit? For fuck’s sake!”

You clicked on it angrily, barely registering the title “F1 driver makes me beg for his cock before bending me over his car”

The first part wasn’t too bad. And by not too bad, I mean his face wasn’t in it, but he was yapping non-stop dirty talk at the woman rubbing herself over his suit-clad thigh.

Voices can be manipulated, you thought. Voices can be imitated.

Voices can also be low and husky and make you want to drop to your knees when they say “Beg for it baby. Show me how bad you want it. You’re not getting my cock until you beg for it…”

Right. Whatever. There was still hope blooming in your chest (and other things blooming elsewhere).

The hopes were quashed however when he finally took the suit off.

His tattoos. His fucking tattoos. They were obvious to anyone who’ ever seen Jenson shirtless, which was anyone from fans, to every single f1 employee, to his mother, to his thousands of hookups. (You were barely exaggerating for effect, but the point still stood).

And then your eyes drifted down into dangerous territory.

Territory as yet undiscovered by your hungry gaze.

His cock. You’d seen it soft, sure, that was nothing to write home about. But for the first time you were seeing it hard and leaking onto his stomach.

Then the scene cut and another problem came up as it changed to something else.

He was now holding the camera, filming himself splitting open the woman’s cunt while she was indeed, bent over the hood of his car.

His very fucking recognisable car, a bright yellow fucking Ferrari.

Your brain only spent about a second on the car however because the angle of the camera quickly changed again.

He’d propped it up against the windshield and now his full fucking upper body was in in view, tattoos and all, and his full stupid fucking face.

His face that was a quite a sight at that moment. He was biting his lip, frowning in concentration as he pounded into the woman who was all but drooling onto the hood, trying and failing to find purchase on the smooth surface as she begged for release.

Fuck he looked good, letting out little whiny sounds every time he buried himself to the hilt.

It was enough to make a grown woman wet.

You realised a beat too late that you’d been staring at Jenson way too long when you felt the real Jenson turn towards you in your peripheral vision.

“Is this fucking turning you on?” he asked, half in awe, half mocking.

You scoffed and straightened up. “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous”

You turned away pretending to be busy with something on the desk.

“You were rubbing your thighs together and basically drooling over the video” he was so fucking  smug.

A smug, hot fucking prick of a man.

“No I wasn’t” you denied it but in your heart you knew it was probably true.

“Prove it, then” he stood up from the chair and stalked towards you, eyes full of challenge.

You crossed your arms in defiance, “and how on earth am I supposed to do that?”

You were backed up against your own desk, feeling caged in and small next to his impressive build.

His hand landed on your thigh as he smirked at you, only inches separating your bodies.

“Only one sure way to find out…” his hand trailed up the inside of your thigh, under your skirt and ghosted over your underwear.

“Jenson… we can’t be doing this” you looked up at him, eyes wide as his fingers dipped under your waistband.

“No one has to know… It’ll be our little secret” he whispered, body coming closer and forcing you to lean back and spread your legs to accommodate him.

Your body trembled as his fingers inched towards where you needed him most, briefly making contact with your clit before sliding through your folds.

“Just as I thought…” he growled in your ear. “Fucking soaked.”

His fingers retracted and he pulled them out of your underwear to tap them against your bottom lip.

“Open your mouth, taste how much you want me”

You did as you were told and the taste of yourself on his fingers was enough to fry your brain completely as you sucked them clean.

 “Good girl” he said, and sank down to his knees between your legs, looking up at you with that devilish smirk.

“Now let's try this again. Did it turn you on seeing me bend that woman over and stuff her full until she cried?”

You were too desperate to argue. You could have agreed to absolutely anything in that moment, with your bare drooling cunt inches away from Jenson's hungry gaze.

“Yes Jenson. It did turn me on”

He smiled, genuinely surprised that you were giving in so easily.

“And are you going to be a good girl and beg me to do the same to you?”

Your thighs tensed as butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, his hands keeping you in place and spread open for him.

You let out a huffed whine.

“Yes, Jenson”

“Then I'd better get to work...”

And with that he slid your underwear to the side and dived into your wetness, tongue first.

It was so messy, but so good as he basically made out with your cunt, his tongue exploring every inch of your skin while he slurped up your juices noisily.

He sucked on your clit and you let out a shudder, hands coming to tangle in his hair as you guided him.

He slid a couple of fingers inside you and hummed against your clit, the vibration making you whine as you got closer to an orgasm.

“Jenson, I’m so close-“

“Beg for it” he mumbled into your skin. “Beg for it or I'll leave you here dripping all over your desk”

“Please Jenson, fuck- Please let me cum. I'll do anything please, please, please!”

The closer you got the higher pitched your pleas became, desperation too great to be embarrassed.

But just as you got to the brink of ecstasy, your release was snatched away as he retreated and stood up, cupping your jaw to tilt your head upwards.

“The only way you're coming is on my cock, darling” he patted your cheek sympathetically “And you’re going to have to do better than that if you want it”

He took a step back and looked at you, waiting to see what you would do.

You looked at his pants where an impressive bulge had formed, and your mind went back to the video.

You gulped, turned around slowly and bent over, elbows making contact with the surface and your fingers gripped the edge as your body shook with need.

“Please, please fuck me Jenson. I need your cock inside me. Fuck me until I can't remember my name, please.”

How could he refuse when you were asking so politely.

You felt the heat of his hands on your back before they slid lower to cup the flesh of your ass and squeeze.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby” he pulled up your skirt and peeled off your now dripping underwear before removing his own layers to free his cock. “And you're going to come on my cock like a good girl aren't you?”

You nodded desperately as he rubbed himself through your folds to spread the wetness, head catching on your hole every now and then.

“Please, I need you” you spread your legs wider and he bit his lip at your submissiveness.

He pushed just an inch in to start, then slid in more on every shallow thrust until he was fully inside you and you both let out a breath.

“Fuck” “Fuck”

He was more affected than he thought he'd be and he had to hold your hips down to stop you squirming and potentially ending this far too early for his liking.

You were feeling fuller than you'd ever felt before, fluttering around his length as you walls got adjusted to his girth.

He took a breath and gave an experimental thrust, knocking into your cervix and rendering you utterly boneless under him.

He repeated the action and you whined pitifully, his cock was hitting every spot perfectly at this angle and you knew you weren't going to last long.

After only a minute you were already drooling onto the desk and begging for him to go faster.

“Jesus Christ” he groaned, his hips slapping against your ass, “You're so fucking perfect for me, my perfect little slut”

You were already so close you could taste it.

“M'gonna come Jenson. Please make me come, I'll be a good girl for you, anything, just- please, fuck!”

He didn't stop this time, instead driving into you harder to chase his own release as you rode the waves of your high, made more intense by his unrelenting pace.

He finally came inside you as you'd just started to feel the ache of overstimulation and you twitched around him, feeling his cum leak out of you when he turned soft and pulled out gently.

The clean up was quick and awkward.

He sat down on the couch and you sat at your desk.

No one said anything for several minutes, gazes wandering around the room but never crossing...

You decided to brake the silence, being the only real adult in the room.

“I'll see what I can do for the tape” you sighed.

“Thank you” he bit his lip shyly.

“However...” you said, pausing to make him look at you. “I can't be your PR manager anymore”

He honestly looked like he was about to cry.

“But-“

You cut him off. “I will find you a replacement don't worry. But I'm almost going grey with how much stress you put me under, not to mention what we just did is entirely unprofessional, so I need to stop.”

“But-”

“However!” you cut him off again. “For the sake of the next person who's going to have to deal with you, and for my own personal needs. I'd be willing to make your sex life less public, and less... chaotic by becoming your girlfriend”

His jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that.

A small smile crept onto his his face that slowly grew until he was full on grinning at you.

You couldn't help smiling back.

“Don't think I hadn't noticed that all the shit you pulled was just to get my attention, I'm not that blind.”

He laughed and looked at the floor in embarrassment.

“So if you'll have me...” you got up and walked over to him, hooking a finger under his chin, “I’d love for you to bend me over every piece of furniture in your house”

He gulped and licked his lips as his pupils grew a fraction.

“Yes please”

[yaoireview]

review sockathan ! 👻👻👻

woah how'd you make that green

SOCKATHAN YAOI REVIEW

Disclaimer: This will contain spoilers (kind of) for Welcome to Hell 2 Part 1 and Welcome to Hell. You should probably go watch that. Its made by Erica Wester and its PRETTY cool.)

My Yaoi Entrepreneurs, I'll be blunt with you. I know we've ALL seen gay people, maybe in the streets, maybe at the park. You might even see one in your home now, so lets be honest with ourselves. Sock is DEFINITELY gay, bisexual at LEAST.

The OTHER one on the other hand.. its a little bit harder to say.. I'll probably find something though..

Lets make one thing clear, when I say Yaoi in this review. I don't mean ANYTHING inappropriate. Its just my special way of saying gay people.. I'm kinda magical in that sense.

Lets just get the first one done and over with a simple section I like to call:

EVIDENCE 1: SOCK IN GENERAL

okay so FIRST of all the FIRST time we see sock, they call Jonathan "hot stuff" while being in a fridge. I'm not sure about you but that's love if I ever saw it.

After that they introduce you to Sock killing his parents. One key point after another. If Sock being gay wasn't important, then WHY was it shown BEFORE telling us Sock's (other) main trait. Checkmate liberals.

Sock would then get the report from Mephistopheles, and you COULD say its just because the camera zoomed in, but its literally the most light ever seen in Sock's eyes.

And then Sock went on to ruin Jonathan's day, making him look crazy, and Jonathan SOMEHOW got blamed for knocking down that desk, I swear I think the teachers just hate him. I'm not sure about you but I certainly cant KNOCK over a desk thats right next to me.

He was WRITING too.. would a guilty man of desk flipping WRITE?? NO!!

And not to mention that Sock made Jonathan look DUMB in front of the faceless brothers which was probably the closest time that Sock did their job right.

Sock absolutely ruined it today.. but can you blame them? They're new to the job, give them some SLACK.

But the upcoming days, Sock was so whimsical.

Yeah SURE. Sock is still telling Jonathan to kill himself, but they just don't want to get fired!!

Not to mention the fact that they stared at Jonathan while they were taking a piss, but there's nothing odd about that.

And also near the end, Mephistopheles calls sock out on liking the guy, and Sock stutters. You just have to take my word for it.

SOCK IN GENERAL 2 [PART 1]

If you saw Welcome to Hell 2 [Part 1], you already know what I'm gonna comment about. Sock went on to call Jonathan's mother, hot. They then went on to say "Must be where you got it from, huh? You definitely got her butt at least."

When Jonathan goes on a walk and Sock follows them and says after Jonathan says he doesn't wanna be friends with them. (We'll get back to that)

"Oh wow, come to think of it, You don't really have ANYONE do YOU? What's that feel like? Knowing you're gonna die alone." to which Jonathan snaps back with "I dunno Sock, you tell me."

Now at first, this looks like a scene of ANTI SOCKATHAN propaganda, but think with me here, yaoiers. How would Jonathan know that Sock died alone??

I understand if he just guessed, since sock DOES look like someone who would die alone, or he just said whatever comeback that came to his head but if not, Sock ALREADY told Jonathan about their past life.

If what I KNOW is true, Sock VENTED to Jonathan about their life before they died in LESS than a week, since Sock just now sees Jonathan's mother in the first part, and due to a comment made by the creator.

Sock REALLY trusts this guy, maybe Mephistopheles didn't want to hear them vent, but maybe its JUST because Sock wanted Jonathan to do the same. but they probably didn't.

And then near the end, Sock says to Jonathan when he snatched his employee manual

"Jonathan, if something happens to you-"

Actually, I think this is pretty weak evidence but I thought I'd include it, since a teacher would say the same thing if a kindergartener was up on a high shelf.

That segment was PRETTY lengthy, but I PROMISE you, the others will be shorter, I just.. didn't expect there to be so much for Sock...

EVIDENCE 2: SOCK SUCKS AT THEIR JOB.

Jonathan was DEAD ON when they told Sock that they suck at their job. And quite honestly.. I could've done it better.. I could've got Jonathan to kill himself (theoretically) on the FIRST day, and if you wouldn't use my strategy, I promise you that there's probably several other you could use for the teenager that you want them to kill themselves at home.

STEP 1: GRAB A WEAPON

Since Sock is seen to be able to flip over a desk and they're able to HOLD Jonathan's journal (Shock or not), I should THEORITCALLY be able to grab a weapon, now for this strategy, I suggest you pick a nonlethal option, only to have a lethal option around, for this example, I will be using a sledgehammer.

After swinging that at the noggin, Jonathan would drop unconscious, probably with brain damage (that don't matter though)

STEP 2: POSSESS THE TEENAGER

Now it MAY not be like this in w2h, but Mephistopheles was able to possess Jonathan when he was DEAD (Probably), so It should hopefully work when they're out of consciousness.

STEP 3: KILL YOURSELF.

Alright now I KNOW that sounds bad.. but it wouldn't be MY hands to kill him. Grab the nearby lethal and SHOOT. THAT. TEENAGER!! Your boss may not agree with the logistics of this, but you get the job done.

This simulation was to PROVE that Sock atleast CARES a bit about Jonathan to want to get to know him. and to not kill him on the spot. Now if It was the other way around.. I'm not exactly sure..

EVIDENCE 3: JONATHAN KINDA HATES SOCK

(he looks like hes standing up to a school bully)

At the beginning of Welcome to Hell, hes clearly annoyed and STILL is annoyed by some of Sock's actions by the end, but he atleast isn't mad enough to NOT act like he could put up with Sock. I think the closest thing to gayness from Jonathan was when he moved the backpack for Sock to sit down.

In Welcome to Hell 2, he IS PISSED at this guy, and honestly, if Sock kept on knocking down those desks, i CANT blame him..

Maybe Sock kinda ruined the vibe when they expressed their love for Jonathan's mother, its hard to say really..

Jonathan makes this very clear that he DOESN'T even wanna be Sock's friend, I mean HAVE YOU HEARD THE THEME SONG?

SUMMARY:

Sock wasn't able to win Jonathan's heart, making him tonight's biggest loser.

YAOI: 6.5/10

[tsams-is-my-hyperfixation]

◀ | ◼ | ▶

[NONVERBAL SUN AU: Eclipse.]

Sun's head was hurting as he walked over to the desk, sitting in a chair. It was after hours, and the lights were dimmed. Moon crawled over. "Sunny, are you okay?" he asked his daytime counterpart, who just nodded tiredly. He put a hand on his head. "Just a headache..." Sun responded. "But we're animatronics, how can we get headaches?..." Moon asked, curious. Sun actually didn't know. Maybe it was something more...

"Moon, would you mind checking my systems?" Sun asked him. Moon nodded, crawling over to Sun, who sat down on the floor. "I need you to power down..." Moon told him. Sun did as told, powering down. Last thing he heard was Moon going into his mind to check...

~~~

[MOON'S POV:]

Sunny's head was all fun and games, quite literally! Cute little strawberry plushie's jumped up and down on the trampoline, while cartons of Chocolate Milk danced in the fridge. It wss all bright and colorful. Moon loved it. "I love this place!!!" he exclaimed. Then he shook his head. He was here for Sunny, not for the fun. He saw a yellow glow from the desk. He crawled over, to see someone who looked exactly like Sunny, but glowing brightly.

"Ooh! What's your name?" he asked them. They turned too look at him, giving him a dirty look. "First, stop crawling and stand up." the glowing Sunny said. "But I don't know how..." Moon mumbled. The glowing Sunny just stared at him, dumbfounded. "How do you—" he sighed in exasperation, getting up and grabbing Moon by the arm before jerking him upwards. Moon almost fell, but the glowing Sunny caught him. He was able to stand with glowing Sunny's help. "My name is Eclipse." the glowing Sunny—no, Eclipse—said. "I like your name!" Moon told him happily. "I'm Moon!"

"Nice to meet you I guess, Moon..." Eclipse mumbled under his breath. The lights grew brighter, causing Moon to flinch and cover his eyes. Again, the light hurt him, because he was darkness. Poor guy. Eclipse looked thoroughly surprised, before turning off his glow and hugging Moon. Moon hugged back. "Are you the thingy in Sunny's head that's making his head hurt?" Moon asked. "I guess I am..." Eclipse muttered. Moon just poked him innocently. "Bye bye, Clipsy!" Moon said innocently. Eclipse looked at him, before hesitantly waving goodbye. Then, Moon went back to the real world.

~~~

[SUNS POV:]

Sun opened his eyes, powering back on. He glanced at Moon, who seemed too be fine. "What happened?" he asked his nighttime counterpart. "The thingy hurting your head's name is Eclipse!" Moon told him. "YOU GAVE IT A NAME!?" Sun exclaimed, dumbfounded. Moon just nodded. Sun face planted. "Whatever floats your boat, Moony..." he mumbled. He pat his brother's head. Innocent little Moon...

"Sometimes you're an idiot...but that's okay, because you're my little brother. You are my world..."

THE SILLIES! Tagging people who might like it even if we aren't mutuals: @goodolddumbbanana @noinoi999 @ikamigami @multifandomcutie13 @thekillermaretwinz @inkyucu @skyuvu123 @ryomaandgundhamkin @coffee-the-bat @sen-sational @dagh0stking @ilikescience-confession-blog @tsamsconfessions123 @silly-a-777 @nosleepygay @eddwardharrison @bloodmoon-da-idiot @lunarlovesbeanbags @mo0ndr0p @sleepy-hall @a-fucking-tornado @rayofmfsunshine1201 @darksuns-beloved-pet @letthebloodrunlikeariver @astrofairy06 @sunny-sourzii @upsidedownapple @yelesomeblue @deyisacherry and literally anyone else. Half the people on here are not my mutuals and half of them are. If you would like your tag removed, just ask me and I gladly will. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[azaharinflames]

I’m loving your theories on the whole BuckTommy (sorry Lou ilu but the name BuckTommy has stuck with me) arc. So I have to ask… why do you think people (read: fandom people) are convinced this is the last season? I really don’t see ABC/Disney undertaking this big of a show (money and following wise) and being like “yeah we’ll put time and effort into this production, but only for one season”

Thank you! Glad you love them, I feel slightly less of a clown when people understand how I think lol. Also - I was rooting for Tevan hard, and even Firefly, but I've accepted Bucktommy and now it has a special place in my heart.

As for your question... I think it all comes to change.

Let me explain. For shows to have a long life, they have to change. They have to evolve. We cannot feel as if we are tuning in to the same thing every week, especially when the same thing has long become boring. I will put Modern Family (my ultimate comfort show) as an example: the whole eleven seasons are of constant change. We are growing with the characters, we are happy, frustrated, sad, whatever, with their actions and choices. And because they are changing, we want to tune in next week to see what will be next.

911 has a severe issue of lack of change. The characters go through these cycles constantly; we said Buck was in a hamster wheel, but the truth is that every single character is in there, too. The writers are somehow unable to find new storylines or conflicts, that aren't what we have seen already, only this time with a new context.

This is partly the reason why so many people, and why a big part of the GA, latched onto Tommy and BuckTommy so quickly - because they were a breath of fresh air, and they felt like the much-needed novelty we were all expecting. If we don't have them, we go to the same repetitive stories - with Buck, but with everyone else, too, to be honest.

And if there is no change... people get bored. There are just so many times you can see Henren on the brink of losing their kids, or Buck trying to find the one (it's stopped being cute, especially when he just had the perfect partner for him walk away), Eddie being unable to move on or forget Shannon (because as much as he's 'better' - has he actually dealt with it?), Madney having either a kid storyline or a Dough-influenced storyline, Bathena having issues with communicating... eight seasons is a long time of this. And unless they change it up, just how much longer can they go? We joke about Grey's sometimes, but the fact is that they are constantly changing.

So. That's partly it.

But (without wanting to make this a whole novel), there were also rumors that some cast was hesitant to continue. Take this with a grain of salt, please, but rumor has it that Peter was kind of ready to walk away a while ago. He even has said in interviews he cannot do this for much longer, as 911 is a very exigent show to shoot. He even wanted Bobby to be killed off at the S7 opening emergency. Angela has also expressed a desire to be on Broadway, so that could also be conflicting. Again, take it with a grain of salt.

And as for ABC - you're right, they bought 911. But with the upcoming spin-off, one can't help but wonder if it is not complimentary but, rather, a substitute. Perhaps they are planning on moving someone from the OG there, who knows. The fact is that they managed to catch the audience's attention with the OG, enough that if they lose it but immediately have a variation of it, they might tune in. And this new show would be cheaper than OG is right now because let me tell you - it ain't cheap, as far as I am aware.

If you want my personal opinion on this - I am 50-50. I think it would be a very weird final season if this was the last, but I wouldn't be that surprised if we find out it is. I can see them going for a ninth season, but I cannot see them going further than a tenth, and that is being really generous. If they prove me wrong and are willing to adapt to change, I will happily eat my words.

PS: I do think if this is the last season, or even if we have it in the next couple of years, they could bring Tommy back (if they haven't yet), as a sort of rushed HEA. Kind of playing with the whole 'right person, wrong time', just bringing it to the right time finally.

Thanks for the ask <3