#if you saw me post this the first time no you didn't i accidentally set the timer for 24 hrs instead of a week

[aspionagee]

First off-- I'm a HUGE fan of your writing, you have no idea how stoked I am for the next installment of A Patchwork Family. I was never a fan of severitus before I came across your fic by chance but your writing is so good it turned me onto it.

I was wondering if you had any severitus fic recs? I saw you post something about crime and punishment and gave that one a read (SO good), and since it seems you have incredible taste to go along with your incredible writing skills I was hoping you could help me out 💚

Thank you very much for the question! I actually have a ton of fic recs for Severitus, and I've been meaning to make a list for a while, so in no particular order here it is!

1. A Year Like None Other by aspeninthesunlight

This fic is also very special to me, and directly inspired A Patchwork Family. Snape ends up adopting Harry and Draco during their sixth year. It was written before the sixth and seventh books even came out, so there's a very fascinating plot!

2. To Trust by Clairdeloon

This one has a runaway Harry being sent to live with Snape after the Dursleys die before his first year. If you like angst this is the one to go for; it hurts so much but it's so worth it.

3. Time Left Today by gzdacs

After the situation with Quirrell, Harry is wanted by the Ministry for questioning. Snape is forced to transport him across Europe to hide him (with things progressively going more and more wrong!). Very enjoyable fic

4. Tension's Empathy: The Wanderers Curse by yarrowmirth

Another "Harry and Snape on the run" one, set after fifth year. I particularly enjoy how long it takes Snape and Harry to warm up to each other! It's also criminally underrated. I check so often for updates you have no idea

5. Grease & Lightning by Mothboss

Would highly recommend this and its sequel, Acid Reigns. Features Snape semi-accidentally acquiring eight-year-old Harry(with some of the best, age-accurate writing of a child I've ever seen). He takes on a protective big brother role and it's so perfect! Acid Reigns also uploads every Tuesday without fail, which I always look forward to

6. obscured by illisius

A recent fic discovery for me, where Obscurial Harry is sorted into Slytherin and Snape has to help him. I am rarely in this much pain when reading a fic, oh my god. The ANGST. It's just so perfect, and I'm so excited to see what's coming next for the universe!

7. The Potions Master and his Golden Boy by HazelEyes25

If you like your Severitus slowburn, this is the one. During Harry's second year, Snape slowly goes from Harry's mentor figure to guardian. It's full of lots of nice hurt/comfort!

8. aim & ignite by shostakobitch

The only biological father Severitus on this list, and HEAR ME OUT! Because if Snape turned out to be Harry's biological parent, this is EXACTLY how it would have gone down. Snape is perfectly canon; he is the horrible, snarky and cruel man from book canon even as he learns how to be a caring man to his child. Such a hard balance to strike, but it is done PERFECTLY. It also features Girl!Harry which I very rarely see in Severitus. With the beautiful prose thrown in on top, all I can do is beg you all to give this a go! So worth a read!!

9. O Mine Enemy by KirbyLane

This is a classic! I've not read it in a while and it's next on my reread list. Again, very good characterisation. Both Harry and Severus feel very human. Takes place during fifth year, and switches up canon a bit which I always like!

10. Crime and Punishment by Melolcatsi

Just in case anyone else didn't see the Crime and Punishment rec, I want to still put it here. This is one of the first Severitus fics I ever read, and it's so very special to me! Harry gets sent to live with Snape in the summer after fourth year when he is falsely accused of stealing. Snape's characterisation in particular is stunning

I could keep rambling on for hours, but this is essentially my top ten! I hope you all enjoy!

[jaguarys]

Please reblog for sample size, I'm curious!

[mm-lurking]

Malfunction: Heart Mode - Boothill

Based on this post. fem reader. Praying this is not ooc. Writing is kinda choppy, I tried my best. 1.6k words. tag: @nvuy hope you like it -- Boothill is one strong muddle-fudger. He does not give a rat's behind when it comes to romantic love, affection, and all that fudging nonsense. Even if it has crossed his mind, he's too busy dealing with the forking problems of the cosmos and most importantly trying to find that son of a nice lady who is responsible for killing his sweet angel and destroying his planet.

Yet here he is, standing in front of you at the bar with a drink in his hand as he hears his machine heart starting to whir. You both were regulars at the bar and often ran into each other from time to time. Your encounters were akin to something like being seatmates; there was enough information exchanged to know about each other yet it was nothing personal. While you didn't quite understand why he would disappear for long periods before returning like nothing happened, you never questioned it and were simply happy to see him again.

He too liked meeting up with you. He couldn't help but flash his razor-sharp teeth whenever he saw you; calling you “partner!” out loud before greeting you and asking how you had been. The little interactions you both had were always a pleasure and as time passed, he seemed to grow more attached to seeing you.

Today was a little different. Compared to your usual outfit, you were dressed up all fancy and the more he looked at you, the louder the whirring of his heart got.

"Fudge."

He mutters under his breath. You look at him inquisitively as he turns his head sideways and sighs.

"Something the matter Boothill?" "It's nothing partner."

You watch as he chugs down his glass and sets the empty vessel down on the bar counter before ordering more.

"I haven't even finished my first drink yet and you're already done?"

You laugh a little as you take a sip of your drink. The dim lights of the bar made your jewellery glow and alongside the reflections of other shiny things, you looked heavenly in his eyes. He doesn’t answer so you look over and find him dazed.

"Boothill...? Um, do you need some space?" "Fudge!"

He can't help but say it out loud this time, covering his face as he scrunches his eyebrows and frowns. This was not how he normally behaved. What in the hot diggity fudge was going on with him?

"Yes- I mean no, ugh fork me!"

You stand there confused (and slightly amused) at how he seems to be fighting himself like a madman. He almost looked possessed from how he kept going back and forth with himself as if he was surprised at what he was saying. Like his tongue wasn't his own.

"I'll give you some space."

The last thing you wanted was for him to hurt himself or those around him. You finally decide to leave just to make sure everything's alright only for him to grab your arm and then quickly let go in shock.

"Sorry 'bout that partner.”

Boothill awkwardly apologises for his unusual behaviour. Before you can reply, a drunk accidentally pushes you from behind and you lose your balance causing you to fall straight into his arms.

“I-!?” “Um…?!”

Both of you are speechless. He swiftly holds your waist with one hand while the other firmly holds onto malt juice. Your hands are tightly gripping his shoulders from the fear of falling. No coherent thought is spoken but the flustered look on your faces has got some of the bar regulars around you giggling.

You don’t even hear the apology of the one who accidentally pushed you. It's as if time has slowed down and nothing exists outside you both. Strangely, he doesn’t let you go and you don’t move either making things even more awkward.

The strong alcohol you were sipping on makes you tipsy and somehow gives you the courage to lift your head and gaze into Boothill's unique eyes. You've always admired how dashing he looks; from his physique to his dressing style and even his interesting way of speaking. And now here you were up close, staring disrespectfully at his face and how handsome he looked.

Boothill is no different either, he's gazing at you hesitantly as he tries to find something to say but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is-

“Fudge me…” “I'm sure the ladies at the ranch think about that regularly.”

You mumble without thinking and he tenses up.

“I- what?!”

He stutters as his cheeks turn slightly red and his eyes widen.

“Uh?! Nothing!”

You mentally slap yourself for blurting that out loud. Even if it was true, why did you have to say it and make things awkward? Come on! You both were having a somewhat endearingly awkward time together! 

You attempt to conjure up something to smooth things over but your thinking is disrupted by a strangely loud machine sound that seems to be coming from nearby. The whoosh is accompanied by irregular beeping sounds, almost like one of those technology things Boothill had told you about. 

You glance around to see if you can find the source only to realise-

It’s coming from Boothill.

“Oh.” You whisper under your breath but the cyborg (who still doesn't let you go nor drinks his beverage and is as still as a statue for some reason) hears you loud and clear.

“Something the matter, pretty lady?” “Yes. Do you plan on us staying in this position until the bar closes?”

Instead of answering his question, you deflect it with another. He turns red again and stammers badly which makes you giggle and further confirms your theory.

“Gotcha.”

Before Boothill can ask what you’re doing, you slowly drag your hands down his shoulders until they rest on his chest. You feel the rapid whirring of his heart through the vibrations it emits through your fingertips. A tiny smirk spreads on your face and you look back at him.

“You’re pretty cute.”

You flirtatiously speak. The look of confusion and embarrassment on his face makes you laugh harder.

“What- hey what- I-”

Boothill’s stammering only gets worse alongside the overheating of his heart. He tries to reply with a snarky comment but the only thing he’s capable of doing is squeezing your waist harder and propping himself up with the bar counter to avoid falling. You, being the woman you are, do not stop the teasing.

“You can’t handle affection, can you? Look at you sweet thing, your heart is overworking and your synesthesia beacon has already overheated.” “Shut…” “I barely said anything and you’re malfunctioning already? How amusing.” “Son of a nice lady…” “I am indeed the daughter of a nice lady.”

“You-!”

He is bewildered at your unexpected behaviour but that painfully obvious blush on his cheek tells you he's not mad about it.

“Oh dear,” you chuckle and pry yourself off his metal chest, “I should stop or else your…eccentric friends…will hold me responsible for any severe malfunctions.”

This was enough teasing from you today. If it were up to you, you would go on and on but you feared any dire consequences that would affect Boothill. You lift and steady yourself up nonchalantly as if you just didn't cause the ranger to nearly pass out from your shenanigans.

Despite the cold metal exterior, he feels the loss of warmth from you moving your body away. His hand slowly retracts from your waist but lingers as if he hesitates to let go. The overheating of his system rapidly starts to decrease, however, he is unable to calm his emotions down completely. He turns his attention away from his mechanical heart and gazes at you curiously while you fix your wrinkled dress.

“You are one hell of a woman.”

A long sigh leaves his mouth as he speaks as if still processing your chaos. A sly smile appears on your face when you (finally) hear him speak properly.

“Took you a while to get talking didn't it mister?”

That grin on your face screams ‘this wasn’t even my best attempt’ but he shrugs it off. He unknowingly takes a step closer to you as if wanting your presence as close to him as possible. The (welcomed) intrusion into your personal space causes you to sharply inhale. He simply places his hand over the rim of your filled glass and whispers gently.

“You think I'd let any lady come close like that?”

Your mouth practically foams as you try to formulate a response. Eventhough you're not looking him, you can feel his gaze on you which makes you nervous.

“I'll tell you something sweetheart. I've got some fudging business to attend to in a bit but the next time we meet, I'll finish what you started.”

His voice is low and rumbly as he subtly warns you of the consequences of your actions. He follows it with a tight squeeze of your hand and then steps away from you. Your mind protests his leave but you're too stunned to speak; had you put yourself on his wanted list now? 

There is a devilish smile on his face as he checks his gun and locks it before walking away with it casually. Next time, he'd show you what a cowboy is capable of.

Hey, at least you were living out the dreams of those ranch ladies. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[minhosbitterriver]

──── * ˚ ✦ ECHOES OF US ( stray kids )

❛ After a painful breakup, you and Jeongin struggle to maintain a civil front for your mutual friends, but when he accidentally calls you by your old pet name, unresolved emotions resurface, forcing you both to confront the lingering feelings between you.

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.6k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 50 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Say hello to my very first long-fic! It took me an eternity to get this done, but I'm actually very proud of how it turned out! Also, my very rough draft for this was accidentally posted a few days ago, so if you saw that...no you didn't! This was anonymously requested! (Anon, I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to finally finish this, but I hope I made up for it with how long it ended up being 🫠) Reblogs for this teaser are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of sibling death and grief, very brief mention of a dysfunctional home, use of they-them pronouns for Y/N, brief explanation of sibling death, Y/N's sibling has their own name, mentions of being abandoned, heartbreak, awkward re-encounter after almost a year, discussions on mental health, a whole lot of angst, comforting ending, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

When Jeongin stepped through the door he had once shared with you, a sense of dread already coiled tightly around his heart, squeezing with every breath. He knew you'd kept your promise to move out by the end of the week, but the reality of it hit harder than he could have imagined. The front hallway, once cluttered with a chaotic jumble of shoes that you always left haphazardly by the entrance, now stood painfully bare, save for his own neatly aligned row of frequently worn sneakers. The absence of your presence echoed louder than any argument ever had, and suddenly he found himself longing for those moments of trivial annoyance—wishing, with a deep, aching desire, that he could quarrel with you about it just once more.

He kicked off his sneakers, setting them carefully amongst the rest of his now lonely footwear. For a moment, he stood there, hesitant, almost willing to call out your name, hoping against hope that you might answer from the bedroom or kitchen, your voice cutting through the oppressive silence that now smothered the apartment. But he knew better. He moved forward with heavy steps, not even bothering to put on his house slippers. The silence that greeted him as he wandered further inside was a deafening reminder of what he had lost. You were gone, and with you, the vibrant energy that had once filled these walls had vanished too.

The living room—once a collage of your combined tastes—was now stripped of the personal touches that made it home. The furniture remained, the couch where you both had laughed and argued, the coffee table marked with rings from careless mugs of tea during lazy mornings. Yet, all the little decorations, the framed art you insisted on hanging, the plants you’d tried so hard to keep alive—they had all disappeared with you. The emptiness was jarring, like a canvas half-painted and abruptly abandoned, leaving every wall and surface barren, the once warm and cozy atmosphere now reduced to a cold, unfamiliar space.

By the time Jeongin reached the bedroom, the last thread of his fragile composure snapped. The bed—where countless memories had been woven—was stripped down to its bare mattress, the sheets gone. The framed photographs of the two of you were turned face down on the bedside table, as if you couldn’t bear to look at them one last time. His eyes moved to the corner where your ridiculously large collection of stuffed animals had once spilled over, crowding half of the bed. That too was empty now. An overwhelming wave of loss washed over him, dragging him to his knees. 

Jeongin's breath came out in shaky gasps as he looked around the hollow shell of what had been your shared sanctuary. You were truly gone. Though he had been the one to end things between you, a decision made in a moment of confusion and pride, he was still hopelessly, painfully in love with you. The realization of his own foolishness crashed over him with unbearable weight, suffocating him in the silence that was once filled with your laughter, your presence, and your love.

Jeongin couldn’t summon a shred of resentment toward you, even if he tried. He understood, all too painfully, that everything that had unraveled between you over the past year was nothing but a sorrowful consequence of your grief. You had once been a soul overflowing with light, always searching for the silver lining amidst the clouds, a spirit who could find a glimmer of hope even in the darkest of times. You, who would often conspire with his mischievous best friend, Seungmin, forming a relentless duo to tease him until he’d feign a pout, forcing you to shower him with kisses until he laughed again. You, who came home every evening brimming with stories about the children you counseled at the school, your eyes alight with passion and care for each of them. All that Jeongin had loved so deeply about you seemed to have been buried alongside your sister, Nari, and this loss was a truth he still grappled with, even now.

As he crawled onto the empty, cold bed that had once been a warm sanctuary for both of you, Jeongin curled into himself, his body folding inward as if trying to shield himself from the harsh reality. His sobs came in ragged waves, tearing through him so violently that he trembled, his breath hitching with each shaky inhale. He missed you more than words could convey—he missed everything about you. The sound of your laughter echoed in his mind like a haunting melody, its tones shifting with your moods: soft and lyrical when merely amused, and loud, unrestrained when joy truly overwhelmed you. He missed those sounds, the ones that used to fill this now desolate space with life and love.

He missed the lazy afternoons you'd spend together, brainstorming new exercises for his music therapy sessions. Those moments would often devolve into impromptu concerts, filled with your carefree, barefoot dancing across the living room floor and his voice following your lead, blending into a harmony of shared happiness. It was in those moments that everything felt right in the world, where nothing existed but the two of you, lost in your own little universe of melodies and movements. He missed those afternoons like one misses the warmth of the sun after too many days of rain.

He missed teasing you in those quiet moments when you were deeply focused, often catching you sticking your tongue out ever so slightly—a quirk of concentration that never failed to endear him. He’d gently pinch it between his fingers, earning himself a mildly exasperated huff as you’d swat his hand away. But he knew that a smile would inevitably creep up on your lips, and you’d turn away to hide it, cheeks flushing with a mix of amusement and affection. It was the kind of simple, tender moment that spoke volumes about the depth of your bond, a bond that now felt irreparably severed.

Every corner of this home whispered memories of you, and he was haunted by them all—the good, the bad, the ones that made him laugh, and especially those that made him cry. Your absence left a void that nothing could fill, a hollow silence where there had once been laughter and love. And even though he knew it was your grief that had driven a wedge between you, he couldn’t help but wish he could find a way back to you, to the person you used to be, and to the love that once made him feel whole.

The night that shattered your world was meant to be a day of celebration: your younger sister Nari’s high school graduation. Jeongin could still see you in his mind's eye that morning, almost vibrating with pure, uncontainable joy. Your eyes were bright, brimming with excitement, and your smile—so wide and beautiful—tugged at his heart each time it graced your lips. Nari was the center of your universe, your pride, your joy, your true soulmate in a world that often felt uncertain and cold. You had been more than just a sister to her; you had been her guardian, her comforter, her everything. You were the one who took on the weight of raising her through the chaotic turmoil of your parents' messy divorce, providing stability where there was none. 

Jeongin could recall countless times Nari would recount how you shielded her from the constant, venomous arguments that echoed through your childhood home. Despite your own young age, you found ways to distract her, to pull her out of the chaos—whether it was with whispered jokes or made-up games that filled her mind with something brighter than the screaming. To Nari, you were a star, someone who had hung the moon just for her. She often spoke with a mix of awe and adoration about the afternoons you both spent sneaking into the little ice cream shop on the way home from school, spending hours laughing over melting cones until you were sure your mother had left for work. 

Jeongin also remembered the quiet, tender moments he would witness after you had graduated and moved out. Nights when Nari would sleep over, curled up beside you, as if you were her very own safe haven in a world that could be so unforgiving. There was a beauty in how you held her close, how you seemed to provide her with an anchor when everything else felt adrift. Yet, no relationship, no matter how deeply cherished, is without its storms. For as vividly as Jeongin could remember the soft, loving moments, he could just as clearly recall the bitter weeks leading up to Nari's graduation—weeks marked by harsh words and heated arguments.

You and Nari shared many things—your fierce loyalty, your protective instincts—but perhaps most notably, the sharp edge of your words. When tempers flared, both of you possessed a mercilessly cutting tongue that could lash out with a force that left deep, stinging wounds. Jeongin hated those fights, hated the cruel things you would shout at each other in the heat of the moment, words that cut so deeply and yet meant nothing once the anger faded. The conflict had started when Nari began dating an older guy who had already graduated. Neither you nor Jeongin liked him, sensing the danger in his recklessness, his penchant for illegal activities that threatened to drag your sister down a path she wasn't prepared for. But Nari, stubborn and convinced she had found the love of her life, refused to listen. The tension between you both grew unbearable, each argument driving another wedge between you and your beloved sister, and Jeongin could do nothing but stand helplessly on the sidelines, watching as she slowly pushed you away.

The real fracture came on what should have been a night of celebration. Nari was supposed to have dinner with you and Jeongin to celebrate her graduation. She promised to meet you both, to share in the joy of her achievement, but instead, she turned off her phone and ran off with her boyfriend to a party that everyone knew would be dangerous. For hours, you and Jeongin called and texted, reaching out to everyone who might have known where she was, each unanswered ring heightening the tension, every minute stretching into a painful eternity. 

And then, the call came—the one that brought your entire world crashing down. Nari had been found dead inside her boyfriend’s car. Both were intoxicated when he decided to drive, his recklessness steering them straight into a tree. The impact killed them both instantly. 

Jeongin would never forget the sound that tore through you in that moment, a wail of agony so deep and raw it seemed to shatter the very air around you. It was a sound that would forever echo in his heart, a haunting melody of a love lost too soon and a pain that could never be soothed.

The piercing sound of Jeongin's phone ringing in his back pocket cut through the thick, oppressive fog of memories that had been drowning him ever since he stepped into the cold, empty apartment that was once alive with the warmth of your shared moments. His body still trembled with the aftershocks of his own heartbreak, his face still wet with a cascade of tears that seemed endless. For a moment, he considered ignoring it, letting it fade away into the void of everything else that felt lost to him. But something compelled him to move, to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. The screen flashed with a name: Chan. 

Jeongin’s first instinct was to let it ring out. He wasn’t sure he could bear the gentle, pity-laden concern he knew he would hear in Chan’s voice. The idea of facing someone else’s worry, of being forced to articulate the emptiness clawing at his chest, felt like too much. But he also knew that Chan wasn’t just calling for the sake of it—he was worried. Maybe that thought, the notion that someone still cared enough to reach out, was what finally convinced Jeongin to answer. With a shaky breath, he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Yes?” His voice came out rough and broken, as if he’d swallowed shards of glass, a hoarse rasp that even he barely recognized. On the other end, there was a sharp intake of breath, a small hitch that spoke volumes, followed by the sound of Chan clearing his throat in that awkward, nervous way he had when he didn’t know how to approach a delicate subject.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Chan’s voice was gentle, tentative, as if afraid that anything more might cause Jeongin to shatter completely. The simple question, so innocuous yet loaded with care, brought fresh tears to Jeongin’s eyes. He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his composure, not wanting to add more weight to Chan’s worry.

“As well as I can be...everything is gone.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, sinking like stones into the silence that followed. There was a sigh on the other end, deep and empathetic, filled with an understanding that was both comforting and unbearable.

“I’ll stop by later, yeah?” Chan’s offer came with a note of encouragement, trying to lift the heavy blanket of despair. “I can bring Minho so he can cook you some food, and we can figure out what comes next.” There was kindness in his words, an attempt to pull Jeongin from the pit he’d found himself in, but the weight pressing on Jeongin’s chest didn’t budge, didn’t ease in the slightest.

“Maybe another time, Channie, thank you,” Jeongin murmured, his voice carrying the exhaustion of someone who had been running a losing race against his own emotions. “I think I just need a few days alone.” The silence that stretched between them after was telling, thick with Chan’s unspoken disapproval. Jeongin could almost see the frown on his friend’s face, the way he’d be chewing on his lip, holding back what he really wanted to say.

Eventually, Chan spoke again, his tone carefully measured, almost as if he were walking on eggshells. “Right. Um, hey...Felix wanted to pay Y/N a visit to make sure everything’s alright and to help with the moving. The problem is, none of us really know where they moved, and we thought that maybe they might’ve told you or something?”

The mention of your name was like a punch to the gut, a sharp twist of the knife that had already been embedded in his heart. Jeongin’s breath caught, and he could feel his throat tightening, the sting of tears threatening to spill over once more. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay composed, to not break apart all over again.

“No,” he sighed after a moment, rolling onto his back and staring up at the empty, featureless ceiling that seemed to stretch on like an abyss. “I thought you guys would’ve known... but maybe Y/N needs some time alone for a while too. I’m sure they’ll call when they’re ready.”

The words felt hollow, a brittle hope that tasted more like ash on his tongue, but it was all he could offer. And in the silence that followed, Jeongin could only listen to the faint sound of Chan’s breathing, the weight of their shared helplessness settling in like a cold, unwelcome presence in the room.

Jeongin had clung to a fragile hope that, in time, you would reach out to the circle of friends who had once been your shared lifeline. He never imagined that you would confide in him directly—he knew all too well that the pain of his departure still festered like an open wound. You had made it painfully clear how much you resented him for breaking things off when you needed him most. He could still hear your voice, raw with anger and hurt, echoing in his mind as you stormed out of the apartment for the last time.

But never in his darkest nightmares had he expected you to vanish completely, as if swallowed by the earth itself. There wasn't even a whisper of your whereabouts, not the faintest trace left behind to hint at where you might have gone. It was as if you had been erased from existence. When you left, you didn't just walk out of Jeongin's life—you walked away from everything that had tied you to this place. You resigned from your job as a school counselor, the one located just a short distance from Jeongin’s apartment where you had once found solace in guiding young lives through their own turmoil. Your phone number had changed, your social media accounts lay abandoned and untouched, gathering digital dust like forgotten relics of a past life.

For what felt like an eternity, each member of your once tightly-knit group of friends wore the weight of worry like a second skin, tirelessly searching for any sign of you, some confirmation that you were still out there, somewhere, still breathing. Nights were spent in hushed conversations and whispered theories, each one more desperate than the last, wondering if you were even alive. The silence you left in your wake was deafening, a void that consumed every bit of hope they tried to hold onto.

Yet, as the months dragged on and there was still no word—no signal, no letter, not even a single fleeting message—Jeongin and the others were forced to confront a harsh new reality. The absence of your presence became a palpable thing, a hollow emptiness that settled in their chests. Slowly, reluctantly, they began to understand that they might never see you again. And in that painful understanding, they had no choice but to piece together their broken hearts and try, however feebly, to move forward. 

But even as they moved on, a part of Jeongin remained anchored in that lingering silence, waiting for the day it would finally break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Eight months had passed since you vanished without a word, leaving behind a void that swallowed everything and everyone you once knew. Jeongin found himself seated on a low stool in the center of his sunlit office, a space designed to cradle broken spirits. The room was filled with warmth, the soft, earth-toned walls bathed in a gentle, golden glow that made it feel like a sanctuary amidst the chaos. Around him, cushions were scattered like islands of comfort, and the soft hum of a guitar rested against his body, its strings vibrating gently with each subtle shift of his calloused fingers.

In front of him, a small group sat in a circle, each person a vessel of silent sorrow. Some had their eyes shut tight, trying to shut out the world, while others stared ahead, their gazes distant, lost in the labyrinth of their own pain. Today’s session was centered around grief—a familiar theme that Jeongin had come to understand all too well. His eyes swept over the group, his expression soft and understanding, a silent invitation for them to share their burdens. Directly across from him, a young woman who had recently lost her mother sat rigid, her shoulders taut as bowstrings, her fingers anxiously picking at the frayed edge of her sleeve. Beside her, an elderly man kept his gaze fixed on his wrinkled hands, folded so tightly in his lap it seemed as if he was afraid he might fall apart if he let go.

Jeongin's fingers began to dance over the guitar strings, coaxing out a few gentle notes that floated through the room like a soft breeze on a warm day. The melody was simple, almost like a lullaby—tender and soothing, a soft hand reaching out in the enveloping darkness. It was a song he had crafted with your help, your voice whispering in his mind, guiding the melody with your mesmerizing ideas and gentle critiques. He tried not to think of you now, of the countless hours you'd spent together creating this very piece, but the memory lingered like a ghost.

“Let’s take a deep breath,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that barely rose above the delicate strumming. “Breathe in... and out. Feel the music as it moves through you.” His voice was smooth and warm as he began to sing, threading through the air like a comforting embrace. The lyrics were a balm for weary souls, speaking of finding peace amid the storm, of a quiet place where one could lay down their burdens. He watched the room with quiet intent, observing as the music began to weave its subtle magic.

The young woman’s shoulders, once so tense, began to loosen ever so slightly, her breath easing into a more natural rhythm. The elderly man’s grip on his hands softened, his fingers unclenching as if the melody had given him permission to let go, if only for a moment. Jeongin’s heart ached as he shifted the melody into a new key, a hint of melancholy now woven into the notes. His voice leaned into the emotion, allowing it to crack and falter in just the right places, like a mirror reflecting the fractures of a breaking heart.

He knew the power of those small imperfections—the way a slight fracture in the music could resonate with the cracks in a person’s soul, giving them the courage to confront their own pain. The room felt heavy with unspoken sorrow, yet somehow lighter, too, as if each note was drawing out a little of the darkness from within. And as he continued to sing, Jeongin allowed himself to feel the weight of his own grief, letting it pour into the song, knowing that sometimes, in the quiet beauty of shared pain, there was a kind of healing.

Moments later, a soft sob broke the fragile silence. The young woman's face crumpled as she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks in rivulets that caught the light. Jeongin’s heart ached for her, a deep, familiar pain unfurling in his chest. His mind flashed back to countless moments where he had seen that same expression etched across your own face—the anguish, the vulnerability. But he didn’t stop playing. Instead, he allowed the melody to swell, his fingers coaxing the guitar strings through the dark waters of sorrow and guiding them back toward a glimmer of hope, like a lighthouse in a storm.

“Let it out,” he murmured, his voice a soft, comforting undertone to the music. “There’s no need to hold back here.” His words were a gentle invitation, a permission to release the emotions that had been held back for far too long. And as if on cue, the room filled with the raw sounds of grief—soft, stifled sobs, muffled cries, the quiet sniffles of those who had long forgotten how to weep openly. Jeongin continued to play, his music becoming a vessel for their pain, a safe harbor where tears could flow without shame or judgment. 

Across the circle, he caught a glimpse of the elderly man, his head bowed low, his lips quivering as he mouthed the words of the song. His eyes were squeezed shut, as if trying to ward off a memory too painful to face. Jeongin’s gaze softened, and he let the melody shift, his fingers moving with practiced ease into something softer, gentler—like a lull after the fury of a storm. Each note was deliberate, a quiet caress to soothe the raw edges of the room's collective sorrow. He watched as the weight of grief began to lift, ever so slightly, and the room took a deep breath, exhaling the heaviness that had clung to them like a shadow.

When the final note faded into the stillness, Jeongin let the silence settle, heavy but not suffocating. He set his guitar down gently, his eyes meeting each person’s in turn, offering a silent acknowledgment of their pain. “Thank you for sharing this space with me,” he said, his voice a soft balm even as his own heart bore the scars of past regrets. Too often did Jeongin lose sleep over how he, despite his profession, had failed to help you through your own grief. “Grief is heavy, but together, we can carry it, even if just for a moment.”

The young woman wiped at her tears, her face still etched with the rawness of her emotions, but in her eyes, there was a faint spark—a glimmer of relief, as if, for the first time in a long while, she felt a little less alone. The elderly man’s shoulders sagged, a heavy breath escaping his lips, as though a burden had been lifted, if only for a moment. Jeongin offered a small, gentle smile, a subtle curve of his lips that spoke of understanding and quiet encouragement. He picked up his guitar again, fingers brushing against the strings with a familiar, comforting touch.

“How about we end with something light?” he suggested, strumming a few upbeat chords, his eyes brightening with a hint of mischief. “Maybe a song that reminds us of hope. Even when it’s hard to see, it’s always there… waiting for us.” His words hung in the air like a promise, a tender reminder that there was light even in the darkest of places.

And so, with his voice soft but steady, Jeongin led them into another song—one that spoke of healing, of finding strength in the most shattered places, and of a quiet, enduring joy that could bloom even in the darkest seasons of life. This was a song Jeongin had written and composed in the wake of your absence, in the silence that followed your sudden departure. It was a song born of hope, crafted in those long months of not knowing, a song he had always dreamed of sharing with you. And as he sang, he let that hope fill the room, weaving through the notes, a quiet, resilient thread that held the promise of brighter days.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed since the group therapy session had officially ended, but Jeongin's office was still filled with the quiet shuffling of his patients gradually making their way out. This wasn't unusual; some of them often lingered, seeking a few more moments to connect or share their thoughts, and Jeongin never minded. He found these moments invaluable—an opportunity to touch base, to offer a final bit of encouragement or reassurance. 

As Jeongin turned to watch the last patient leave, he was surprised to find his friend Changbin leaning against the doorframe. Changbin’s muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest, his eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and amusement. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and it only grew wider when Jeongin’s gaze finally met his. "Bin," Jeongin greeted with a slight bow, his dimples appearing as he returned his friend's smile. He moved toward his desk on the opposite end of the room, a space that served as both his office and a therapy room within the clinic.

Without waiting for an invitation, Changbin followed him, settling himself comfortably into the leather chair meant for Jeongin. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, Jeongin let out a small huff of amusement at his friend's antics. He took a seat in one of the smaller chairs intended for his patients, his gaze fixed on Changbin. "What are you doing here?" Jeongin finally asked, watching his friend lounging back in the chair, hands interlocked casually behind his head.

Changbin's playful demeanor slowly shifted, his eyes losing their mischievous spark as they settled into something more serious. He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on Jeongin's desk, the sudden shift in atmosphere making Jeongin's heart pick up a little in pace. He tried to keep his expression soft, maintaining a small smile even as he braced himself for whatever Changbin had come to say.

For a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence as Changbin seemed to struggle with his words, his brows furrowing in thought. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke, "You know how Yongbok and Hannie wanted to have a joint celebration for their birthdays this Friday, right?" Jeongin's brows knit together in confusion; he hadn’t expected such a mundane topic. Still, he nodded, waiting for the real reason behind Changbin's visit.

"Well, everything will be pretty much the same... but we wanted to tell you this before you showed up." Changbin paused, his worried eyes meeting Jeongin's increasingly anxious gaze. After a deep breath, he continued, "Y/N moved back here a little over a week ago and reached out to us almost immediately. We helped them settle back down, and we've been spending some time with them, catching up on everything. Yongbok and Hannie wanted them to be included in their birthday celebration, but we also wanted to check in with you. Make sure you're okay with that first."

Jeongin felt his entire world tilt on its axis, Changbin's words crashing into him like a wave he hadn’t braced for. A million questions stormed through his mind, so fast and furious that he couldn’t quite grasp a single one. "Wait." His hand shot up, signaling his need for a pause as he shifted forward, perching on the edge of his chair. His voice, tinged with betrayal and hurt, spilled out in a rushed breath, "What do you mean Y/N moved back here a week ago? Why am I just learning about this now?"

A look of guilt shadowed Changbin's face, his expression softening with regret. "Y/N asked us not to tell you for a little bit because they weren't ready to handle it yet... but now that everything's settled, they have a new job and everything—Y/N is ready to meet with you if you'd like." He hesitated, and a flicker of panic widened his eyes as he quickly added, "But you didn't hear that last part from me. Y/N wanted to be the one to reach out at some point today or tomorrow."

The silence that followed was heavy, all-consuming, wrapping around Jeongin like a thick fog. He struggled to wrap his mind around the news of your return, the idea of seeing you again so unexpectedly unsettling. The weight of your absence, the questions left unanswered, all resurfaced in that single moment, leaving him adrift in a sea of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face.

Jeongin didn't quite know how to feel about you moving back into town after leaving him without so much as a goodbye. The news of your return stirred a storm of emotions within him, each one more complicated than the last. On one hand, he understood your reasons for leaving—the desperate need to escape from everything that reminded you of your younger sister, Nari, and the weight of your relationship with him, which had grown heavy with grief and unresolved pain. He could see why you had to flee, to distance yourself from the memories that clung to every corner of the town like shadows that wouldn't let you breathe. 

But understanding didn't erase the sting of abandonment. Jeongin couldn't ignore the countless sleepless nights he’d endured, his mind spiraling into an abyss of what-ifs and could-have-beens. He thought back to the moments when your relationship had still felt beautiful and safe, long before it had quietly begun to crumble beneath the weight of tragedy. In truth, he realized, the love between you had started to fray the very moment you received the devastating news of Nari’s fatal accident. It had unraveled slowly, painfully, until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of what once was. By the time he officially ended things, the love you shared had already been gone, replaced by a haunting emptiness.

For months after you left, Jeongin had nearly driven himself to madness, caught in a vicious cycle of regret and self-blame. Every waking moment was spent agonizing over all the different ways he might have pulled you out of your grief. Could he have said something different, done something more? Could he have been more patient, more understanding? He had replayed these thoughts over and over, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. There was a time when he couldn’t even look at his own reflection without being reminded of his failure—his inability to be the anchor you needed in the storm of your sorrow. He blamed himself for your sudden departure, believing that if he had fought for you a little harder, if he had held on just a bit longer, maybe things would have turned out differently.

Slowly, though, Jeongin had begun to emerge from the shadows of his own grief. He had started to come to terms with the loss—not just of Nari, whom he had loved deeply through you, but also the loss of the future he had imagined with you by his side. He’d begun to accept that his own heartbreak, mixed with the suffocating weight of guilt, was something he needed to release in order to move forward. Jeongin had finally allowed himself to realize that in the grand scheme of things, staying by your side would have meant losing himself in the process, trying to bring back a version of you that had vanished the day Nari did. He’d come to understand that you were never going to be the same person again, and neither was he.

And now, just when he was starting to find a semblance of peace, you chose this moment to step back into his life. It felt like the ground he had just managed to steady himself on was beginning to shake once more. Jeongin wasn’t sure if he was ready to face you again, to reopen wounds that were only just beginning to scar over. Yet, there was also a flicker of something else—a hope, perhaps, or maybe just curiosity—about what this new chapter could bring. But whatever it was, it left him feeling unsettled, standing on the precipice of a past he had tried so hard to leave behind.

As his mind continued to swirl with a torrent of thoughts, Jeongin was startled by the bitterness that began to simmer beneath the surface of his heart. The resentment was unexpected, an emotion so potent that it almost frightened him. It clawed at him, leaving a sour taste in his mouth, a stark contrast to the calm demeanor he usually carried. But as his gaze lifted, his eyes locked with Changbin's, and he saw the concern etched in his friend's face. The anxiety in Changbin's sincere eyes was unmistakable, quietly tracking the cascade of emotions that flickered across Jeongin's vulnerable features like a storm passing through. 

Despite the sharp sting of betrayal—the feeling of being kept in the dark by his closest friends, who had not only hidden your return from him but also lied to him so they could spend time with you—Jeongin found a small measure of solace in Changbin’s quiet empathy. It was as if Changbin's presence anchored him, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t navigating these turbulent waters alone. In that brief moment, Jeongin’s chaotic thoughts cleared enough for him to take a deep, steadying breath. He slumped back into his chair, his eyes dropping to his sneakers, suddenly feeling the weight of his own exhaustion. His shoulders sagged, heavy with the burden of emotions he could no longer ignore.

"I don’t know if I’ll be ready to meet with Y/N before the party," Jeongin confessed in a low murmur meant only for Changbin’s ears. The sadness in his voice was unmistakable, a raw and tender ache that clung to every word. He took a moment, trying to gather his thoughts that seemed to scatter like leaves in the wind. "But I’m not going to stand in the way of Y/N joining the birthday party—especially since it’s not my place to decide that. I’ll still be there, and I want to be as civil as possible. So, please, don’t let anyone make it more awkward than it needs to be, or I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it."

His voice trembled by the end, his courage wavering as he finally lifted his eyes to meet Changbin's once more. There was a flicker of something fragile there, something almost hopeful, despite the tangled mess of his emotions. Changbin nodded, a soft smile pulling at his lips, a small gesture of gratitude and understanding. He stood up, moving closer to lay a firm, reassuring hand on Jeongin’s shoulder—a rare show of affection, knowing how Jeongin tended to shy away from touch, especially when his emotions were laid bare like this.

"I’ll talk to the boys," Changbin promised, his voice steady, grounding. It was the most he could offer in that moment, aware of how delicate the situation was. 

With that, Changbin turned and quietly exited Jeongin's office, leaving the younger man alone with his thoughts. The room seemed to close in around him, heavy with the weight of everything he was yet to fully comprehend. Jeongin remained seated, lost in the labyrinth of his own complicated emotions—anger, sadness, regret, and something else, something almost like a glimmer of hope—all swirling together in a chaotic dance that he had no idea how to untangle.

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In the three days leading up to the eagerly awaited joint birthday party on Friday—an event hosted by Chan for Felix and Jisung—Jeongin found himself ensnared in a relentless spiral of anxiety and anticipation. The looming prospect of encountering you after nearly a year of absence gnawed at him with a persistence that bordered on torment. He grappled with a thousand imagined scenarios, each one an intricate tapestry of potential outcomes and emotional landmines. The uncertainty was a constant, unsettling presence in his life.

Jeongin’s small apartment, once shared with you, had become a labyrinth of memories and regrets. He often wandered its confines, the soft thud of his footsteps a mournful echo of the unease that had taken residence in his chest. The apartment seemed to sigh with each step he took, as if mourning the lost echoes of a time when you had been there. Despite his efforts to bury himself in work, the thought of you lingered like an unwelcome shadow, a constant undercurrent that refused to be ignored. He would catch himself staring at his phone, repeatedly re-reading the message you had sent him just hours after Changbin’s visit—a message that had become both a lifeline and a tormentor.

Your text, which read: 

Hey, Jeongin. It’s been a while. I know I left without much of an explanation and cut off contact... I’m sorry for how I handled things. I’m sorry for a lot of things, actually. But I wasn’t in the best place back then, and I needed time to figure things out on my own. I’m back in town now, and I’d like to talk sometime if you’re open to it. No pressure—I just feel like there are a lot of things that were left unsaid between us. Take care!

Every time Jeongin read these words, a storm of emotions would churn within him. The initial formality of your greeting felt like a cold draft from a distant past, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once existed between you. The passage of time loomed large, a reminder of the endless stretch of days that had passed since your sudden disappearance. He was struck by a poignant blend of nostalgia and pain, the abruptness of your departure a constant reminder of how unfinished your story had been.

Your apology, though a balm of sorts, stirred a complicated mix of relief and frustration within him. On one hand, it acknowledged the hurt you had caused, but on the other, it left a multitude of unresolved questions hanging in the air. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did you sever all contact? Jeongin understood that you were not in a good place and needed space, but that understanding did little to soothe the sting of abandonment he felt. The sense of being left in the dark, coupled with a profound sadness over his inability to help you, left him grappling with a blend of guilt and anger.

The mention of wanting to talk now jolted him, a surge of conflicting emotions rushing to the surface. He was torn between the desire to reconnect and the fear of reopening old wounds. The prospect of addressing the myriad of things left unsaid between you brought with it a flood of memories—regrets, unresolved issues, and a yearning for closure. Each re-reading of your message plunged him deeper into a whirlpool of complicated thoughts and emotions, the turbulence of his feelings both paralyzing and consuming.

Ultimately, Jeongin found himself unable to craft a suitable response, and so he chose silence. His decision not to reply was one shrouded in uncertainty, a choice that left him questioning whether it was the right one. The silence that followed was both a refuge and a torment, a delicate balance between preserving his own peace and the unresolved echo of your return.

The night of the party arrived under a canopy of crisp, clear sky, the stars shimmering with an almost mocking brilliance. Jeongin drifted through the evening like a specter, his senses overwhelmed by a world that seemed too bright, too noisy, and far too indifferent to his turmoil. His apartment, once a sanctuary, had become a chaotic jumble of discarded outfits—each one cast aside with a frustrated sigh and a sense of resignation. The fabric of his clothes lay strewn about like the remnants of a battle fought and lost against his own anxiety. Nothing felt right, and the more he tried, the more he was convinced that nothing ever would.

Eventually, he settled on a modest ensemble—simple, unobtrusive, and devoid of any hint of personal flair. As he dressed, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and what he saw was a stranger staring back—an image of confusion and trepidation. He attempted a smile, one that was supposed to be confident and reassuring, but it fell flat, a mere shadow of what he hoped to project. By the time he arrived at Chan's place, his nerves were a live wire, sparking and fizzing with every heartbeat.

The apartment, already abuzz with the lively hum of music and the warm murmur of laughter, was suffused with the rich, inviting aroma of a feast. Jeongin took a deep breath, steeling himself before stepping into the vibrant chaos. Felix, ever the beacon of warmth, was the first to greet him. His smile was a radiant crescent, eyes sparkling with the playful twinkle of a galaxy etched upon his cheeks and nose. Felix enveloped Jeongin in a tight, enthusiastic hug, and Jeongin could almost gauge the number of drinks Felix had indulged in by the exuberance of the embrace. As he disentangled himself from the fervent welcome, he was met with a slew of half-hidden concern and reassuring smiles that nearly suffocated him with their well-meaning pity.

He made his way to the kitchen, where the counter was a tableau of gifts—boxes and bags for Felix and Han piled high in cheerful disarray. Jeongin added his own contribution to the heap and then sought refuge in the cool solace of the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water to soothe his parched throat. But then, as if fate itself had conspired to make this night even more unbearable, you appeared in the kitchen doorway.

You had been laughing lightly, a melodic sound that seemed to dance on the air, but upon spotting Jeongin, you froze mid-step. The sight of you was like a flash of brilliance in an otherwise dim landscape. You looked as radiant as ever, with a glimmer of the light that had once illuminated your eyes returning to them—a light Jeongin had once lost himself in with reckless abandon. At that moment, the gravity of his own emotions hit him with a brutal clarity. Despite having ended the relationship, he realized with a heavy heart that he was still desperately, achingly in love with you. Even after nearly a year of separation, the feelings remain undiminished.

You slowly composed yourself, though your body remained taut with the remnants of surprise. The smile you gave him was both disarming and electrifying, sending a shiver through him. With a polite bow, you greeted him, your voice soft and warm as you said, “I’m really glad to see you again, Jeongin.” The way you spoke his name made his knees feel weak, the sheer depth of his longing crystallizing in that single, familiar sound. He had not fully grasped how much he had yearned to hear his name on your lips again until that very moment.

Unable to find words, Jeongin merely bowed in return, his smile shy and tremulous. He watched you turn and leave the kitchen with a hurried pace, your earlier purpose forgotten. The realization dawned on him that he might need more than just water to navigate the emotional maelstrom of the evening.

Chan's party was a sanctuary of familiarity, a gathering of a close-knit circle of friends who had weathered years together. The night had unfolded in a haze of laughter and lively banter, and now, as Jeongin found himself pleasantly intoxicated from the endless rounds of drinking games, he couldn't help but revel in the camaraderie that had once again enveloped the room. It felt undeniably comforting to have everyone gathered under one roof again, especially you.

The past year had cast a shadow over the group's dynamic, your absence an unspoken void that lingered between them, palpable despite the silence. Yet now, with your return, the room seemed to breathe with a renewed vitality. It was as though the very air had shifted, carrying with it a sense of ease that had been sorely missed. Jeongin observed you from a distance, his gaze drawn to you as you reengaged with the group. He noted with quiet awe how you moved through conversations with an effortless grace, the same grace that had once been your hallmark.

It was apparent that you had emerged from the clutches of your grief, a revelation that stirred a profound admiration within Jeongin. The way you laughed, genuinely and freely, was a testament to your resilience. Though you had left without a word, seeking solace far away, you had returned with a newfound lightness. The laughter that now danced from your lips was a melody Jeongin had missed, a balm for the aching absence that had haunted him throughout the past year.

Jeongin watched with a bittersweet smile as you engaged with everyone—how your eyes crinkled at the corners when joy sparked within you, how they would occasionally meet his gaze with a fleeting, shy acknowledgment before darting away, leaving behind a gentle blush. Each moment was a delicate brush stroke on the canvas of your reunion, painting a picture of someone who had found a way to heal and reconnect.

The sight of you dancing playfully with Han to a song you both claimed had been crafted just for you was particularly poignant. Your movements were a symphony of carefree delight, a stark contrast to the somber image Jeongin had harbored of you. In these shared, joyful moments, as you reintegrated into the tapestry of old friendships, Jeongin felt his heart tugged with an intensity that defied explanation.

Though the effects of alcohol swirled around him, amplifying emotions and blurring the edges of reality, Jeongin knew that the depth of his feelings for you transcended any inebriation. The love he harbored was as real and potent as ever, a force that no amount of alcohol could replicate or diminish. He was falling for you once more, each glance and shared laugh reaffirming the connection that had never truly faded, only waiting for the right moment to reawaken.

Despite the undeniable truth of his lingering affection for you, Jeongin remained uncertain of how to navigate these turbulent emotions. For now, he chose to keep his feelings veiled in silence, retreating into the solitude of his thoughts. The haze of confusion was abruptly dispelled by the firm, reassuring weight of Minho’s hand settling on his shoulder, grounding him in the present moment.

Minho, his eyes glazed with the soft blur of alcohol—though not nearly as intoxicated as Felix and Han—clapped his hands together, a signal for attention. His voice, amplified by cupped hands, cut through the ambient noise of music and conversation. "Guys! Guys!" he bellowed, drawing the attention of the increasingly inebriated crowd. The room fell into a collective hush, eager eyes fixed on Minho as he continued with a grin that spoke of mischief. "As per Yongbok’s request, we’re about to kick off a game of UNO! But there’s a twist: every time someone lands a Plus Four card, we all take a shot. And the loser—well, they get a revolting concoction of mixed alcohols and juices!"

The announcement ignited a burst of enthusiastic cheers, the crowd’s energy crackling with anticipation. Laughter and playful shoves accompanied the clumsy shuffle to the circular coffee table at the heart of the living room. Jeongin, with a flicker of hope in his heart, watched as you navigated the sea of friends. His wish to have you beside him was met with a hint of disappointment as you chose a seat directly across from him, nestled between Hyunjin and Seungmin.

The seating arrangement became a familiar circle of camaraderie and chaos: You directly across from Jeongin, Seungmin to your right, Chan to Seungmin’s right, Felix to Chan’s right, Jeongin to Felix’s right, Minho to Jeongin’s right, Han to Minho’s right, Changbin to Hyunjin’s right, and Hyunjin bridging the gap between you and Changbin. The table soon overflowed with the raucous sound of drunken laughter, mischievous plotting, and playful bickering.

Jeongin found himself in an unexpected streak of triumph, his luck seemingly endless as he conquered each round of UNO. The others began to whisper suspicions of cheating, their playful accusations accompanied by slurred speech and tipsy frustration. Chan’s voice, tinged with exasperation, rose above the din. "How is it even possible that you’ve been winning non-stop?" he demanded, his words distorted by a chorus of drinks and Seungmin’s relentless strategy.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, a gesture that had become almost automatic in the face of such claims. Han, who had just suffered the fate of the foul concoction, gagged dramatically as he placed the empty cup down with a groan. The room’s attention shifted to you as you slammed your palm onto the table, a spark of mischief lighting up your eyes. The gesture was a beacon of playful challenge, and it made Jeongin’s heart flutter unexpectedly.

"Stand up then, if you’re not cheating," you teased, your voice laced with both suspicion and amusement. The room buzzed with agreement, and Jeongin could not suppress the smile that tugged at his lips as he rose to his feet. He had sobered somewhat since the game began, the action feeling less consequential for him than for the others.

Throughout the night, the games were interspersed with moments of easy banter between you and Jeongin, a reminder of the lighthearted days before the heartache had set in. Each playful remark, every shared glance, and the way you laughed at his jokes tugged at him, rekindling memories of warmth and affection. The realization of how deeply he missed the feeling of being in love with you clenched his heart painfully.

As Jeongin turned around slowly to prove his hands were empty, he couldn’t resist a smirk. "You didn’t empty out your pockets," you persisted, your stubbornness both charming and exasperating.

He met your gaze with a playful smirk of his own, the words slipping out before he could fully process their impact. "Come on, baby, don’t be like that," he said, his tone teasing.

The room fell silent in stunned unison, the playful atmosphere abruptly shifting to one of surprise and second-hand embarrassment. The weight of Jeongin’s unintended endearment hung in the air, leaving everyone, including him, to grapple with the sudden shift in the night’s delicate balance.

Jeongin’s heart sank as he watched the color drain from your face, a pallor of shock and disbelief that spoke volumes in the charged silence that followed. The name he had unintentionally let slip—a relic of a time when you were together—seemed to strike a chord deep within you. For a fleeting moment, your eyes revealed a heartache that cut through the pretense of composure you so desperately tried to maintain. The expression of hurt was almost palpable, like a silent scream against the fabric of the night.

You managed to reassemble yourself with a stubborn facade of mischief, your smile a delicate mask that barely concealed the storm within. Your words, though laced with playful banter, seemed to cut through the tension with a sharp edge. "I just think it's unnatural how many times you’ve won," you remarked with a smirk that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Jeongin’s slip-up hung in the air, a tangible weight that seemed to sour the atmosphere of the gathering. Despite your attempt to downplay the incident with a light-hearted quip, the sting of the old nickname echoed like a ghost of past intimacy, making the room feel suddenly foreign and strained. The previously buoyant mood had shifted, leaving behind an undercurrent of unease that neither the laughter nor the playful jabs could dispel.

Jeongin could feel the churning turmoil within him, his heart pounding relentlessly in his chest. The game continued around him, but he found himself withdrawing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. Each stolen glance, each forced smile, was a reminder of the painful reminder of how things had changed. The night, which had started with such promise, now felt heavy and laden with unresolved emotions.

As the hour grew late and the laughter waned, the group, sensing the shift in energy, collectively decided it was time to call it a night. The revelry that had marked the evening dissolved into a subdued murmur as everyone prepared to leave. For Jeongin, the end of the night came as a relief, though it was tinged with a sense of lingering regret and an unspoken wish for things to be different.

As Jeongin made his way through the dimly lit apartment, exchanging farewells with the departing guests, he caught a fleeting glimpse of you darting out of the building. His heart, already heavy with a tumultuous mix of emotions, quickened its pace as he instinctively sought to follow. With an urgency driven by both concern and an aching need to make things right, Jeongin scrambled to retrieve his jacket and pull on his shoes, the night air already beginning to bite at his skin as he hurried after you.

He managed to intercept you just as you stepped out onto the cold street. Your name slipped from his lips before he could catch it, a desperate utterance that hung in the frosty air between you. You paused, your breath visible in the night’s chill, and both of you stood there for a moment, hearts racing in unison. Jeongin's breath came in ragged bursts as he caught up with you, the weight of his impulsive actions settling heavily on his shoulders.

“Let me walk you home,” Jeongin implored, his voice trembling slightly with a mixture of anxiety and hope. The words, simple yet laden with his longing, seemed to hang in the air, as though the night itself held its breath in anticipation of your response. Your eyes softened, reflecting a tempest of emotions as they met his, and your lips parted slightly as if struggling to find the right words.

Instead of speaking, you turned and began walking forward, your steps deliberate yet hesitant. Jeongin, interpreting your silence as tacit consent, fell into step beside you. The street stretched out before you, unfamiliar and shadowed, and the air between you was charged with unspoken sentiments and lingering regrets. Walking side by side felt oddly reminiscent of days gone by, a bittersweet echo of times shared with friends, now tinged with the ache of what had been lost.

In the week since Jeongin learned of your return, he had been trapped in a cycle of conflicting emotions. The pangs of missing you, of realizing the depth of his feelings that still burned despite everything, battled with the frustration of your unexplained departure. Each time anger threatened to overwhelm him, guilt swiftly followed, a reminder of the suffering you must have endured. His internal struggle was a storm of longing and resentment, a turbulent sea he had yet to navigate.

As he stole glances at your profile in the dim streetlight, the familiar contours of your face brought an unexpected rush of grief. Memories of your younger sister, Nari, flooded his mind—her laughter, a joyful sound that once filled the air, her enthusiastic embraces that had always greeted him with warmth. Your eyes, once so bright with shared mirth, now seemed dimmed by her absence.

The realization that Nari would never again tackle him in playful greeting, that her laughter would never again ring out, was a heavy burden. It pressed down on Jeongin’s heart, a reminder of the irreplaceable void left behind. The twinkle that once danced in your eyes when you laughed at Nari's jokes was now a distant memory, a reminder of how deeply her loss had affected both of you. As you walked together through the unfamiliar streets, the weight of these lost joys seemed to bear down on Jeongin, making each step feel heavier than the last.

Engulfed in the whirlpool of his own somber reflections, Jeongin barely noticed when you came to a halt before an old, weathered apartment building. Absorbed in his tumultuous thoughts, he continued forward for a few steps, his mind adrift in a sea of regret and longing. It was only when the melodic sound of your giggle reached his ears, a playful echo that cut through the fog of his melancholy, that he realized he was walking alone. With a start, he turned, his face flushing with a sheepish smile as he moved to stand before you.

You were standing there, your knuckles clenched tightly around the strap of your bag, a telltale sign of the anxiety simmering beneath the surface. Your lips were caught between your teeth, a nervous habit that Jeongin had come to know all too well. The sight of your distress mirrored his own internal turmoil, causing his foot to tap restlessly on the pavement as he waited for you to speak. The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy shroud that seemed to settle between you.

After a few moments of strained silence, you released a shaky breath and offered him a small, timid smile. "It was good to see you again," you said softly, the words tinged with a trace of the anxiety that laced your voice. It was the same sentiment you had voiced earlier in the night, when you had first reappeared in Chan's kitchen after an eight-month absence.

This time, Jeongin’s response came with a gravity that reflected the depth of your absence. "I’m glad you came back," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the months spent apart, yet softened by a flicker of genuine contentment.

Your smile, though hesitant, shone brightly against the backdrop of the night. It was a beacon that pierced through the haze of Jeongin’s heartache, and despite the unresolved tension, he couldn’t help but return it with a warm, albeit uncertain, smile of his own. The air between you crackled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings, a delicate balance between the urge to bridge the gap and the inability to articulate the depth of your emotions.

As you cast an awkward glance back at the entrance of your apartment, Jeongin understood that you were grappling with the same indecision that plagued him. "This is me," you said, your voice betraying a trace of nervousness as you cleared your throat. "My place is a bit of a distance from our—sorry, your apartment. If you’re comfortable, I can offer you my couch for the night."

Despite the initial reluctance that had gripped him, the prospect of spending more time with you, however fleeting, was too inviting to resist. Jeongin found himself smiling softly, a gesture of acceptance that was both hesitant and heartfelt. Your genuine, wide smile in response seemed to illuminate the night, lifting the veil of uncertainty that had surrounded him. With a renewed sense of hope and a lingering trace of longing, Jeongin followed you inside, each step towards your apartment a tentative step towards mending the fragile thread that connected your hearts.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your new apartment, though modest in size, exudes a quiet charm, nestled in a serene part of town far removed from the familiar streets you once traversed with Jeongin. The moment he crosses the threshold, he is enveloped by a dissonance of emotions—a strange fusion of comfort and estrangement. The space is distinctly different from the apartment you once shared, yet your presence lingers in every corner, making Jeongin feel both intimately connected and like an outsider peering into a world that has shifted just out of reach.

The living room, modestly furnished, reflects a minimalist elegance. A soft, neutral-colored couch rests against the wall, draped with a knitted throw blanket that adds a touch of warmth. This room is a far cry from the eclectic mix of your past home—a space once filled with a vibrant blend of your belongings and his—but it still bears the subtle imprint of your personality. A small shelf brims with books, many titles familiar from your old collection, but new ones have also appeared, whispering of the changes and growth you’ve experienced in your absence. The windowsill cradles a few houseplants, their greenery a delicate contrast to the sprawling flora that once filled your old living space. They are smaller, more contained, reflecting a more subdued chapter of your life.

Jeongin’s gaze drifts to the walls, bare and unadorned, stark in their emptiness. Gone are the framed photos and art prints that once animated every corner of your shared apartment. The absence of pictures—particularly those of the two of you—leaves an unexpected sting, a painful reminder of what has been left behind. Instead, there is a single framed photograph of your younger sister on a side table by the window, surrounded by a cluster of candles. It stands as a quiet tribute, a poignant memorial that tugs at Jeongin’s heartstrings, reminding him of the grief that ultimately drove a wedge between you both.

The apartment is imbued with a subdued quietness, a stark contrast to the lively energy of your former home, where laughter and soft music once intertwined to create a vibrant ambiance. Here, the atmosphere is more solitary, introspective, as if the space has been intentionally crafted as a sanctuary for healing—a refuge from the chaos of the past. A small kitchen table, cluttered with a few empty glasses and a half-read book, suggests many solitary evenings spent with your thoughts, lost in the pages or gazing into the distance, ensnared by memories.

The kitchen itself bears no evidence of the late-night culinary adventures you used to drag him into, those joyous moments of laughter and flour-covered countertops. As Jeongin takes in the scene, he is overwhelmed by a complex weave of emotions—nostalgia for what was, sorrow for what has been lost, and a poignant ache for the version of you who now stands before him. The differences are striking, revealing a careful, deliberate solitude you’ve constructed around yourself in this new space. It feels as though you’ve created a bubble of tranquility, a place where you can breathe freely from the weight of the past, and he wonders if there is still a place for him within it or if you have moved on to a new chapter without him.

The emptiness of your new apartment weighs heavily on him. It’s not merely the physical void but the absence of the vibrant, unfiltered you that he used to know. Standing there, a guest in what might have been his world, Jeongin is acutely aware of how much has changed and how deeply he still yearns for the comfort of what once was, now replaced by the stark reality of what is.

As Jeongin steps into your new apartment, he takes in its subtle details with a blend of curiosity and nostalgia. You move about with a quiet, almost anxious energy, as if the mere act of tidying is a way to manage the fluttering tension between you. Your hands, unsure of their purpose, engage in small, inconsequential tasks: smoothing the corner of the knitted blanket draped over the couch, adjusting the book that rests on the kitchen table, and shifting a houseplant slightly to the left. It is evident that you are aware of his gaze, but you strive to give him space to absorb his surroundings.

The silence stretches until you break it, your voice soft yet resolute. "It's not much, but... it's mine." There’s a delicate balance in your tone, a mixture of pride laced with vulnerability. You glance at him, seeking to gauge his reaction, your eyes reflecting a world of untold emotions. As you move towards the small kitchen area, you open a cabinet and retrieve two glasses. "Do you want some water? Tea? I think I have some wine if you'd prefer that." Your words tumble out in a gentle stream, an attempt to fill the quiet with something tangible, yet they carry an earnestness that reveals your underlying uncertainty about where you both stand.

Jeongin watches you, his gaze softening as he observes the careful grace of your movements—each gesture imbued with a quiet protectiveness, as if you're safeguarding something tender within yourself. The silence deepens for a moment before he responds, his voice subdued and tentative. "Water's fine." It is clear that he is navigating this new terrain with caution, his tone reflective of the delicate balance between past familiarity and present distance. You nod and move towards the fridge, your back turned to him as you pour the water.

Jeongin’s eyes wander around the apartment once more, deliberately avoiding the back of your head as you focus on the task at hand. When you hand him the glass, your fingers brush against his, sending a shiver through him. It’s a sensation he’s not quite accustomed to after all this time apart. He accepts the glass with a quiet "thanks," savoring the cool water as it soothes his dry throat. 

"Let’s sit," you suggest, motioning towards the couch. There is a steadiness in your voice that carries a quiet confidence, reminiscent of the times you had managed to ground him amidst the chaos. Jeongin follows you and settles beside you on the couch. The cushions feel foreign and different from those he remembers, amplifying his sense of longing for the comfort of the home you once shared. 

For a brief moment, Jeongin is at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the tangled emotions in his chest. He is unsure where to begin, but you gently ease the tension. "How’s work been?" you inquire, your voice a soothing balm to the heaviness in the room. "Are you still at the same clinic?" 

Grateful for the opening, Jeongin nods. "Yeah, still there. We started a new program recently... working with kids who've been through some really tough stuff. It’s been challenging, but rewarding." He watches as your eyes soften, a sign of the empathy and kindness he’s always admired in you. The sight of your genuine smile, the one he’s missed so dearly, is like a balm on a wound that has long ached. 

"That sounds so nice. You've always been so good with children." Your compliment is heartfelt, and Jeongin feels a pang of longing.

He responds with a light-hearted joke, "That’s more your area of expertise," referring to your work as a school counselor. You chuckle softly, taking a sip of water, and Jeongin senses there’s more you wish to share.

"And... what about everything else? How have you been holding up?" Your question is gentle but probing, and Jeongin’s grip tightens around his glass.

"It’s been... different," he admits. "The apartment feels empty without you there. Like something’s missing."

Jeongin hadn't intended for his words to emerge with such raw intensity, but they tumble out before he can rein them in. He watches as they land upon you, the way your gaze falls and a shadow of sorrow flits across your face. "I'm sorry," you murmur, the words almost lost in the quiet of the room. "For leaving like that. I didn’t know what else to do."

Your apology strikes a chord deep within him, a resonance of shared pain and regret. "I know," he replies softly, his voice carrying the weight of understanding. "I don’t really blame you. We both had to figure things out." The atmosphere between you shifts, the earlier tension giving way to something more tender—like an old wound beginning to mend. 

Jeongin sits beside you on the couch, his nerves stretched taut, a wire humming with unspoken words. His hands are clenched in his lap, a desperate attempt to hold himself together as the silence stretches, thick and heavy. His gaze is drawn to you, to the way you hold your glass of water—fingers wrapped around it as if it were a lifeline, anchoring you to some semblance of normalcy. 

He recognizes that look in your eyes—the one that signals you are about to reveal something profound, something that has been weighing on you. "When I left," you start, your voice so faint it nearly dissolves into the air. Jeongin’s breath catches in his throat. He had no clear expectations for the evening, but he can feel that whatever is coming will be laced with pain.

"I didn’t really have a plan," you continue, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. "I just... needed to get away." He watches as your eyes drift to the water in your glass, your reflection shimmering and distorted. The impulse to reach out and offer comfort is almost overwhelming, but he remains still, his focus entirely on you.

"I ended up halfway across the country," you say, your voice gaining a faint thread of strength. "I reached out to Lily. You remember her, right? From college?" Jeongin nods, a wistful smile tugging at his lips despite the ache in his chest. He recalls Lily’s vivacious spirit, her constant care for you, and feels a pang of gratitude that she was there for you in a way he couldn't be.

"She didn’t ask questions; she just told me to come," you add. Jeongin’s heart clenches at the image of you in a strange, distant place, the weight of your grief looming like an oppressive storm. He loathes the thought of you feeling so alone and adrift, needing to travel so far for solace.

"She lives in this tiny coastal town," you continue, your voice lightening slightly as you recall the memory. "For a while, I thought maybe that was what I needed—being somewhere far away from everything." Jeongin can almost visualize it—a serene seaside town where the waves gently erase footprints, a place where time seems to stretch indefinitely, offering a balm for the wounded soul.

Yet, beneath the surface of your words, Jeongin senses an undercurrent of dissatisfaction. The coastal retreat, while soothing, evidently fell short of the healing you sought. His heart aches, burdened by the realization that he wasn’t able to provide the support you needed, even as he too was grappling with his own struggles. The distance between your shared past and the present feels vast, and he yearns for a way to bridge that gap, to be the anchor you needed, even though he was floundering himself.

You pause, and Jeongin watches as you swallow hard, the movement of your throat a testament to the weight of your words. "I eventually realized that it wasn't enough," you say, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. "I needed more help. So, I checked myself into a grief recovery program..." The words falter, and Jeongin feels a tightening in his chest, the emotion reflected in your wavering tone. "A place where people go when they've lost someone and don't know how to keep living."

He stares at you, his vision blurring as he grapples with the magnitude of your suffering. He's known grief, but seeing it through your eyes—so raw, so utterly consuming—is a new experience for him. Guilt crashes over him like a relentless wave. He wasn't there for you. He couldn't help. He didn't even know how to begin.

Jeongin opens his mouth, an apology poised on his lips, but you continue, your voice cutting through the silence with a quiet determination. "There were days I wanted to leave, but I stayed. I wrote a lot. I planted a small garden there, just to feel like I was nurturing something again, you know? And slowly, I started to remember things without feeling like they were completely breaking me."

His hands tremble in his lap, the truth of your words stirring a deep regret within him. He should be happy that you found a way forward, relieved that you began to heal, but instead, he is overwhelmed by the ache of not being there for you—by the realization that he had abandoned you when you needed him most. His eyes search yours, desperate for some sign that you don’t harbor hatred towards him.

"I can't imagine what that must've been like," he finally manages, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I ended things when you needed me. I didn’t know how to help you through it, and I—"

You shake your head, a wistful smile curving your lips. "I didn’t know how to let you help me, either. And I wasn’t ready to accept Nari’s death and move on yet. That’s why I left." Your words settle into the spaces between his ribs, a cold weight pressing heavily on his chest. He wants to explain, to tell you that he was lost too, that he struggled to keep his own head above water while watching you drown. But he stays silent, knowing that this moment belongs to you, just as much as it does to him.

"I needed to find a way to live with the grief," you say softly, "to not let it define every part of me. And maybe I needed to see if I could come back and face everything, including you."

Jeongin’s heart skips at that, a flicker of hope igniting within him. There is a softness in your eyes that he hasn't seen in so long, a hint of something that almost resembles hope. He takes a breath, feeling a slight loosening of the weight of his own regrets. "I'm glad you did," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I missed you—missed this, even if it wasn’t always easy."

You nod, and he sees a myriad of emotions dance across your face—relief, uncertainty, and perhaps the faintest trace of affection. There is much to unpack, many layers to explore, but for now, this moment of quiet honesty, of shared pain and cautious hope, feels like a tentative step towards understanding.

Jeongin notices his hand is closer to yours than he had realized, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what it would be like to reach out, to touch your skin once more. But he doesn’t. Not yet. For now, he is content to sit beside you, to listen, and to cherish the hope that this—whatever it is—might be the beginning of finding each other again.

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🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE

hi there ! i'm new to the tlou fandom but not new to fic, and watching the show over the past few months inspired me to return to fic writing. the idea for this has been milling around in my head for a good chunk of time now and i finally felt ready to put pen to paper and get this thing started. i've already posted this to ao3 if you prefer that medium, but i'll also be posting it here now. let me know what you think!

summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 2.6k

You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

It started about a month ago, after all the shit that happened with that monster, David. After Ellie had decided she wanted to start sleeping alone.

It hadn't really been a conscious decision on her part, but you'd noticed that first night how she'd distanced herself from you and Joel when it was time to sleep. She'd curled up against the far wall of the basement with barely a word, shutting herself off entirely while you'd tended to Joel's injury. Prior to this – ever since Joel was stabbed – Ellie had started sleeping at his side, head on his chest, listening to his heart and hoping against all hope that it kept beating. You'd slept a few feet away, hoping desperately for the same thing.

After David, she avoided physical contact entirely. You and Joel wordlessly understood, though you could tell it alarmed and concerned him. Though he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks you know he'd become accustomed to having her at his side, curled into him with that familiar daughterly affection he'd been missing for twenty years. Seeing her ultimately decide that she no longer wanted that closeness, probably feared it, distressed him greatly.

“Fuckin' bastard,” Joel had murmured to himself that first night as you cleaned his wound – you'd learned what to do from watching Ellie, “I'll fucking kill him.”

“Shhh,” you'd hushed him, keeping your voice low in case Ellie was still awake, “He's dead and gone, she took care of it.”

“Shouldn't have had to,” he'd hissed, “Fuckin' bastard.”

He'd slept poorly. You knew because every so often you'd hear him mutter something else to himself about David between short fits of sleep. You didn't sleep much either, partly because in the wake of Ellie's sudden distance it was now your job to monitor Joel's wound, but also because you felt the same way Joel did. The thought of that monster... what he'd done to Ellie and what he'd tried to do... you'd never felt so much disdain and hatred for one person in your life. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the look on her blood-spattered face when you'd both found her, the way she'd barely been able to speak... you could only imagine how much worse the images behind Ellie's eyelids were.

So she slept alone now, which meant Joel slept alone.

For a little while, that is.

-

After a few days of short spurts of travel and staying in more abandoned houses (Joel wasn't well enough to walk much, though he tried to deny it, much to the frustration of you and Ellie) you'd set up camp on the outskirts of a small community. Ellie hadn't talked much and Joel hadn't been fully in his right mind since you left that first house, so the decision-making had fallen to you for the time being. Truthfully, you were done with the mouldy mattresses and hard concrete of those suburban basements, the smell of rotting food and being bothered by mice and cockroaches while you tried – and failed – to fall asleep. Neither Joel nor Ellie argued when you suggested setting up a campsite in the woods for a change of scenery.

The snow had melted quite a bit and there hadn't been anything fresh in almost a week, the temperature rising rapidly the further you walked. The idea of sleeping underneath the stars again with fresh air in your lungs and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees was enough to keep you going that day. That night, you'd watched as Joel made a fire with the materials you'd collected, Ellie already bundled up inside her sleeping bag a few meters away.

“Hey, you sure you're not gonna be cold over there?” you'd called to her gently, already knowing the answer.

“I'm good,” she'd replied, sounding earnest enough, “If I get cold I'll move.”

You'd sighed quietly, turning back toward the fire. Joel was blowing lightly on some kindling, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You used this rare moment of him being distracted to analyze his face; the dark circles beneath his eyes had been growing more prominent over the past few days, and he'd gotten into the unconscious habit of blinking very slowly, like he was always just a few seconds from sleep. You'd never seen him look this exhausted.

“You need to sleep,” you'd murmured, and his eyes had snapped up to meet yours instantly, “I'm serious, Joel, you look...”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine,” you shifted your eyesight to the fire, lifting your hands to warm your palms, “You look like you haven't slept in days, which you literally haven't, by the way.”

“I've slept,” he'd grunted, turning his attention back to the fire as well.

“Yeah, for maybe twenty minutes at a time.”

“Well, maybe if I wasn't bein' woken up every twenty minutes by you checking if I'm still breathin',” his voice was hard and cold, but you were used to it.

“Don't be dramatic,” you'd snapped back, “I check you maybe twice a night now, if even that. Sorry for wanting to make sure you're okay.” The last few words had come out shakier than you'd intended.

He'd inhaled deeply, and you could see him looking at you again in your peripheral vision, “You're right, I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole. As usual.”

“You're not an asshole,” you'd muttered, “you're tired. And so am I.”

You'd sat together in silence for a few moments before Joel had reached behind him for his pack, digging out the blanket he'd started using in lieu of his old sleeping bag. He'd decided to leave that behind; it was what you and Ellie had used to get him back to that first house, the one Callus had dragged across the icy terrain with a bloodied and near-death Joel as its only occupant. He'd pissed himself in it, which he'd attributed as the main reason for leaving it. But you knew the truth: he'd spent too long wrapped up inside of it during that period of time to ever get a good night's sleep from it again. It needed to be put out of its misery.

Both you and Ellie had offered to give him your own but he refused every time, repeatedly stating that the blanket Ellie had found was warm enough, if not even warmer than the sleeping bag had been. You honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he gave you no choice but to believe him.

“You take first watch, then.” he said quietly, “We're out in the open again, gonna have to stay alert.”

“Got it,” you were a bit embarrassed by your brief moment of vulnerability, but you'd quickly busied yourself with picking up the rifle to hold it in your lap.

You'd watched as he spread out the blanket on the ground, carefully kneeling down and wincing at the pull of his stitches. He laid down on the edge of it, then reached over and pulled the other side over his body like a makeshift sleeping bag. Sighing contentedly, he'd closed his eyes.

Despite how much older than you he was, the word adorable couldn't help but cross your mind.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled quietly to you, and you'd forced yourself to look down at the rifle so he wouldn't catch you staring.

“Night, Joel.”

-

You'd quickly learned that Joel's new blanket was in fact not warmer than his sleeping bag. After a few hours of keeping watch, you decided to check on both Ellie and Joel to make sure they were doing alright. Ellie was fast asleep and didn't look to be shivering or experiencing a bad night's sleep; she actually looked more peaceful than you'd seen her for a long time. You'd smiled fondly, fighting back the urge to push her hair out of her eyes; she'd made things very clear and you weren't going to overstep.

You wandered over to Joel and the contrast between he and Ellie was staggering; there was no peace here. He was wide awake, shivering ferociously and hunched in on himself with his hands cupped around his mouth as he blew on them for warmth.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you'd immediately dropped the rifle and leaned down to him, “why the fuck didn't you tell me you were freezing?”

It actually wasn't a very cold night, but the combination of Joel's thin blanket, his injury, and the fact that he was overwhelmingly exhausted were just making everything ten times worse. He also hadn't slept outside for weeks. You immediately began to regret the decision to camp tonight.

“Hold on,” you'd said quickly, scrambling back up to grab your own sleeping bag. You unzipped it so it was wide, then draped it over Joel's shivering form, “I'm gonna give you some body heat, okay? Don't make it weird.” You'd only said the last part because you knew he would protest.

You'd crawled underneath both layers of material and without any hesitation wrapped your arms around Joel, ignoring his shaky mutterings of “I'm okay” and “you don't need to”. He'd surrendered very quickly, relaxing into your embrace as you ran your hands up and down his arms at the fastest pace you could muster. You alternated between his arms and hands, taking them in yours and rubbing your palms against them like you were trying to start a fire, huffing hot breath against his skin. Beneath the blanket, you entwined your legs with his, pulling his socked feet against your ankles and trapping them there to warm them up.

It only took a few moments for the heavy shakes to stop and for Joel's breath to even out again. Despite this, you stayed where you were and kept doing what you could to keep his temperature stable. As he warmed up, he began to feel more like himself; he was no longer a cold statue but the warm and solid man you'd come to recognize, and you were hyper-aware of the fact that despite spending so much time with each other you'd never actually been this close to him. His arms, strong and steady beneath his coat, the same arms that carried around that heavy pack all day, the arms that cradled the rifle, they now laid loose and tender under your touch. His hands, calloused and rough around the edges but soft at the palms, the same hands that set the fire still burning a few feet away, the hands that once held his daughter and had learned to hold Ellie's – and now yours, feeling like in some way they belonged there.

You'd known you felt something for Joel, but you'd never realized how strong and real that something was until it was literally in your embrace.

Without speaking you'd laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes and doing your damnedest to fight back the sudden tears that were threatening to well up. Holy shit, was all you could think, a warmth you'd never felt in your entire life radiating in your chest and somehow extending toward him. Holy fucking shit. It was like time had stopped and all you could feel was him.

You'd looked up at his face, needing to see if he felt it too, felt you the way you felt him, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw that his were closed, mouth slightly agape. There it was, that peace you'd seen on Ellie's face, now transferred to Joel's. For a brief second you felt panic, but it was immediately interrupted by the light snore that emitted from his open mouth. He'd fallen asleep.

And a few moments later, so had you.

-

That was the first night you'd slept solid without waking up even once. Not just since Joel had been stabbed, but since the pandemic had started to begin with. You can't recall ever having such a peaceful, dreamless, absolutely soul-refreshing sleep. And neither had Joel; when you woke the next morning he was still fast asleep in your embrace, that peaceful expression still sculpted on his face like he was a living Michelangelo. In the night you'd only gotten closer to him, legs still entwined and head still on his chest. The only difference was that your arms had obviously stopped their rapid movements to keep him warm, and they'd ended up snaked around his torso, the palm of your left hand laying flat against the hot skin of his waist, just above where his stitches were.

Maybe you should have pulled away when you realized, gotten up and pretended it didn't happen. The thought did cross your mind, but then Joel had shuffled a bit in his sleep and you'd become aware of the fact that his arms were around you, hand pressed flush against your bare back underneath your jacket and shirt, holding you to him. And that was enough to make you stay.

About fifteen minutes later, he'd woken up.

He didn't flinch or yank himself away when he realized the position you were in. He'd blinked slowly at you, and you'd peered up at him just as quietly. His lips had parted and then closed again, as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Instead, he just kept staring at you, and you started to feel his hand on your back slowly and tenderly stroke the skin there. In return, you gently brushed your thumb against the bare skin of his waist. It was a moment that felt like it went on forever, both of you touching those small intimate parts of each other without saying so much as one word.

You felt butterflies in your belly when the hint of a smile twitched at his mouth, and you smiled back, sleepy and soft. You never wanted to leave this small piece of existence. You just wanted him to keep looking at you like that, his gaze holding yours with an expression you could only describe as contentedness. You'd never seen him look so relaxed; the dark circles had faded and even the lines on his face had receded into his skin. He looked younger, healthier, like all the bad things that had happened to him had vanished in one good sleep.

“Uggghhhh,” Ellie moaned a few meters away, and both your heads snapped in her direction. She was sitting up in her sleeping bag, back facing you. You could see her arms stretching above her head as she began her typical morning wake-up routine: stretch, groan, flop, repeat.

Without saying anything you'd both untangled yourselves simultaneously before she could see the sleeping arrangement you'd found yourselves in. The loss of warmth and familiarity was palpable as you quickly stood up and grabbed the rifle, walking over to the now completely burnt out fire. Joel silently folded up his blanket and your sleeping bag behind you, then muttered something about needing to look for more shit to burn.

That's how it started.

And you don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

[gisellecnz]

GOJO SATORU

summary. You left Satoru and the kids at home to do some grocery shopping, which means that Satoru will have to take care of two babies at the same time.

contents. Fluff, reader is fem, gojo having troubles at the end

authors note. I requested something similar to this from another author, so if they did my request and posted it please don't get the wrong idea! I also wanted to write about it too now 😭

You and Satoru have Two kids, the first one is Satoshi, he's the oldest. He just turned two 5 months ago. Then next was Satoko, she's younger than Satoshi. You gave birth to her around 4 months ago.

You found it cute how your kids got Satoru's genes the most, they have his white snowy hair and those blue ocean eyes that you adore a lot.

︵͜⏜͜︵ ︵͜⏜͜︵  ︵ ︵͜⏜͜︵  

Once, you had to go grocery shopping alone, leaving Satoru and the kids at home.

Satoru wanted to come with you, but you refused and told him to stay at home to take care of the kids. You assured him that it would be fine and no curses would start attacking you, plus you also reminded him that he expanded his infinity to you.

(Gojo fully knows that you're a strong sorcerer, he just suddenly became much more of a worry wart after you gave birth to his baby girl months ago.)

right now you're about to leave the house, but Gojo is looking at you with those big puppy eyes, begging you to bring him grocery shopping with the kids as well.

Well... There were plenty of reasons why you couldn't bring Gojo with you, the first one was that you're still kind of a first-time mom, and you don't know how to handle two babies at the same time in public. And of course, you and Satoru can't leave the kids alone at home, you guys don't trust any babysitter to look out for them since they could be bad guys or curses in disguise.

"Please y/n? I wanna come with you!

"Satoru you're being a baby! You do understand why you can't come right? You have to take care of the kids, it's just some grocery shopping! I swear I'll be alright! Now let me go! "

BANG! the door shuts close loudly.

Satoru pouted and looked down at his baby, "Your mama really is a meanie..no? "he cooed and looked down at his precious daughter who was sleeping in his arms, booping her nose. He's surprised that she didn't wake up from the commotion earlier.

"Ah, I'll just get your brother, 'kay? Don't pull any pranks on daddy when he's back. "- acting as if his 4-month-old daughter could stand up on her legs and start setting up pranks.

He kisses her forehead and places her on a nearby crib beside the sofa and heads towards Satoshi and Satoko's shared nursery room.

As he entered the room, it turned out Satoshi was already wide awake, bouncing and giggling in his crib at the sight of his father.

"Hey buddy, did you miss me that much? Is that why you're excited to see me?" A warm smile spread across Satoru's face as he scooped his son up.

"Pa-pa! Pa-pa!"

Satoru grinned, heart warmed by Satoshi calling him "papa."

"No wonder you're so cute; you look so much like me." And, well, you'd agree. Everyone else does too. Satoshi and Satoru could practically be twins.

Satoru picked up Satoshi from the crib, he checked his diaper for poop. "Oh no, you need a shower, bud." He chuckled, Satoru carried Satoshi to the bathroom, and Satoko too just in case.

After a good 20 minutes of bathing Satoshi, they returned to the nursery. Satoshi, now fresh and clean, rested on Satoru's left arm, while Satoko peacefully slept in her bassinet.

Everything was peaceful, not until a cat from outside accidentally knocked over a metal item which made a loud noise, good thing Satoshi didn't get scared by it, meanwhile, Satoko over here woke up from the noise.

Satoru started panicking when he saw that Satoko's eyes are starting to well up in tears.

"Oh my god- Satoko please don't cry, please don't cry.. "

He started to panic even more when he heard her whimpers, he tried to calm Satoko down by caressing her chubby cheek with his right hand.

"Nonono, not right now please Satoko... "

then boom, Satoko is now crying.

"Oh my goodness." He palmed his face and sighed from failing to prevent his daughter from crying.

"Alright, just a second Satoshi." He couldn't grab Satoko from the bassinet with one arm only, since he was carrying Satoshi in his left arm, So he had to put Satoshi down first. But as he was about to put Toshi down, his son gripped his shirt tightly,

"P-papa..... No..."

Then Satoshi started crying, he didn't want Satoru to put him down. The children's wailing filled the room, Gojo felt like he wanted to cry too.

"Aiyaaa..... Y/n...please save me.. "

Satoru didn't know what to do in order to stop the children from crying at the same time.

end: you arrived home 20 seconds later, you went to the nursery room to check what was the commotion about. When you saw Satoru very exhausted you couldn't help but burst out laughing. But don't worry, you told him that he did a great job and gave him plenty of kissed as his rewards after.

☞ note. this was inspired by that one kbs world tv episode, idk how to make my writings longer 😭 this was so annoying cuz I worked so many times on this fix then when I saved it to my drafts it had an error THEN HALF OF IT DISAPPEARED SO I HAD TO REDO EVERYTHING 😭😭😭

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

[bluecrowwings]

From this post. I want to show everyone my Darkrai in Twisted Wonderland! This is some of my plot and idea about that!

....Yeah, I just turned a maniac pokemon into a cinnamorole boy who full of anxious-

I know that PMD Darkrai isn't a shiny, but his sprite used these colors so I used it too. If you wonder why his eyes color before/after came to Twisted Wonderland are different, I'm gonna tell you later.

Anyway, from what I said in the last post. After he (because in PMD used he/him, so I will use it accordingly) got attack by Palkia while he trying to escape, Darkrai losing his memories and end up in Twisted Wonderland as a human.

By the words "losing his memories", it's mean almost everything. It's like how Player end up as a Pokemon with no memory in the game, they know what is Pokemon, what is human and many things, but still can't remember many things either. In Darkrai's case, he can't remember his name or his old life, but still can remember what is pokemon. He knows that he was a Pokemon not a human. He just can't remember which one of Pokemon is he or how he turned into a human. His memory and his personality was reset almost to the zero.

Darkrai woke up in a dark and cramped coffin, a feeling of discomfort and pain spread throughout his body.

Why is he in the coffin??? Who put him in the coffin!? -wait- is that a flame!?

This poor amnesic boy started panicking when he saw blue flames emanating from the coffin lid, he immediately kicked the coffin lid out with all his strength.

Grim was an unlucky one who standing in front of the coffin in that moment.

The first thing Darkrai thought when he met Grim was: What kind of pokemon is this kid? (Meowth? Espurr?? Litten???).

But after the first encounter between Grim and Darkrai, it was followed by death threats from Grim. Darkrai run away and Grim chasing him for the robe which he was wearing right now-but he can't remember how he got it.

Darkrai accidentally used his power to cross the shadows when dodging Grim's flames for the first time, and he didn't even notice.

Darkrai, who had just escaped from the angry cat-like pokemon(?), gasping for breath while confused what just happened, and realized something when he saw his reflection.

He is human...

But he not supposed to be human

He don't know how, but he knew that he shouldn't be a human. He was a pokemon!

...He might not sure which species he was, but he sure that he was a pokemon before.

Time for panic and fear when he realized he had no memory and was now being chased in a strange place.

Darkrai met headmage Crowley, he saved him from Grim and tried to take him to the orientation ceremony.

It didn't help him so much when he tried to explain his situation to Crowley, and of course! he doesn't listen...

And when Darkrai standing before the mirror of darkness, in the eyes of many people who were staring at him at that moment. This happened.

'State your name'

"I-I can't..."

'Louder!'

"I'm sorry! I can't remember my name!"

Sounds of confusion and question sounded around him. Darkrai was really uncomfortable with all of this. But the Dark Mirror still read his soul to assigned him in some dorm.

...if that can happen.

'The nature of your soul is...' '.........unclear to me' 'It's so dark...this soul is too dark for me to read it. I can't sense magical power from this one. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.'

Crowley began to cry out in disbelief that the black carriage receive a person who cannot even use magic (but Darkrai didn't came here by the black carriage...). Grim demanded that he can be a student here instead Darkrai.

Annnnd You know what happened next.

The Chamber of Mirror set on fire. One student had flames on his robe. Now everything is in chaos and out of control.

Darkrai was stressed, he feel not safe, he had a headache, he wanted to get out of here right now.

'I don't know if I thought of it or not... But I felt that the pain on my body was growing more and more as my headache....'

After they manage to capturing Grim, it wasn't long before Darkrai can given Crowley any excuses or clarifications. He collapsed to the ground and fainted in front of everyone.

And when Riddle go to check on him…

"Headmage! He's bleeding right now!"

It was the time for everyone's turn to panic as they rushed to take him to the infirmary. We have a no-magical student who is bleeding and seriously injured right here! Get out of the way!

(I don't belive that being thrown across dimensions from the attacked of God of Space-Time would not left anything behind. Of course, he must have suffered some injuries, and it's not just a little wound too.)

Grim still here with Crowley with Riddle's collar on his neck. The only reason he hasn't been throw out is because our headmage still believes that he is Darkrai's familliar.

What a messy ceremony.

This poor boy is very confused and panicked, his stress will only get worse because of all the Overblots and his own problems in the future.

[kirikeijii]

𝐂𝐨-𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Movie star ! Toge Inumaki x Movie star ! Reader SMAU

Chapter 1 - Trending Hangout Sesh

Prolouge - Auditions Prev← → Chapter 2 - The First Week on Set

Synopsis: You saw a job offer for a new upcoming movie —Jujutsu Kaisen 0— starring some of the most famous actors: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuta Okkutsu, and Maki Zenin. The requirement for the character's personality was a match made in heaven. The character was perky, smiley, talkative, in short, a ball of energy. In contrast to your character: a quiet and observant role was played by Toge Inumaki, your character's love interest. To get the chemistry on screen you had to spend time with him. Despite his character personality, he was the complete opposite on set. The world watches the two of you do interviews and vlogs about the upcoming movie. The world watches you fall in love with each other without even knowing yourselves. At some point, the world knows how whipped you are for each other except for the two of you.

Inumaki, Toge: 2:29pm

Kugisaki, Name 2:53pm

Inumaki, Toge 2:55pm

Kugisaki, Name and Inumaki, Toge 6:50pm.

You sat at the top of the stairs, the foot that only had a sock on laid on top of your other leg. 10 minutes later you heard steps up the stairs and then you were met with the white-haired boy. "Took you long enough."

"I'm sorry, I had to climb up 4 flights of stairs." He narrowed his eyes making you laugh. "C'mon, give me your foot." He kneeled.

"No- I can do it." you tried taking the shoe from him. "It's fine, c'mon." You hopped on one foot, hands on the railing as he slipped your shoe on. You felt yourself smiling and secretly taking a picture immediately posting it, head in the clouds. You quickly caught on to what you were doing.

Trying to cancel the post, you accidentally pressed the post button unknowingly. "Done! C'mon, I'll show you my brainrot collection." He smiled evilly making you giggle. "That's not true, right?" You asked him walking into the elevator. You grew concerned when he didn't answer. "Toge? It's not true, right?"

30 minutes later you arrived at his apartment and to your surprise he was neat and clean with it. "Wow, I didn't think your apartment was this clean." You looked around. He had games, trophies, anime figures, and his merch displayed. "Why, because I'm a boy?" He peaked through the entrance door. You thought for a bit then agreed to what he said. "Fair enough." He shrugged.

"So, what'd you wanna do?" You ask him. "We could order food, we could get to know each other and study our lines." He smiled at you while pouring a glass of water in the small open-concept kitchen. "Y-yeah, I'd like that." You smiled back before cringing at your stuttering.

Your talk with him went on for 30 more minutes when he started to get tons of notifications. "Sorry, I just need to check this." His mouth formed a thin line while he looked at his phone, you could see his eyebrows furrow. "What's wrong?" You asked him. His mouth was still a thin line, and he showed you his phone. Your face went pale with what you saw.

"I can explain." You gulped. "Okay, so when you tied my shoes, I thought you looked really cute, and my hand acted on its own taking the picture and almost posting it. But then I went back to reality and I thought I drafted the post because I didn't look at it after. So. . . I'm very sorry, I'll explain everything to your mana. . ger? Are you okay. . ?" You rambled making your eyebrows furrow.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Be careful next time?" He smiled at you softly. You immediately nodded at his response. "Anyway, I need to go to the bathroom. Nature's calling." He whispered the last part. "Toge, ew. I'm literally eating." You scoffed in disgust. "Mmm, I'm gonna shit so hard-"

"Please, stop?!" after that, it's just random gibberish about how he's gonna use the bathroom and you telling him to stop. Okay, he wasn't actually going to shit. He just wanted to fanboy about the fact that you called him cute while looking through the thread of your Twitter.

ᯓ★You actually pressed draft but then you butt-posted the whole thing. Haha, suffer.

ᯓ★Your PR manager messaged you 76 times over the past hour about the post.

ᯓ★Inumaki told Yuuta about what you did and Yuuta is kicking his feet for Inumaki.

ᯓ★You spent the night at Inumaki's and left at 3am so no paparazzi came at you with questions.

ᯓ★Thank you for reading<3 | Masterlist

ᯓ★Tags: @sophiasrant @dazqa @anqelkoz @walllflowerrrsss

[pseudoartistpostsstuff]

Ik you said you’re on break but that’s okay! I can wait lmao

I’m obsessed with your yandere lu writings. I would love a yandere Time x fem reader where he like extra creeps on reader? I’m talking like spying on them n shit and maybe stealing an article of clothing just bc it smells like them

Lord help me that sounds so weird

Why am I like this

Help

Thank you so much for requesting for my boy Time!

Notes: No no I like your way of thinking, give me your worst. Me, personally, I can be way worse than that lol

In fact, I may have accidentally made this creepier than I meant to, idk

By the way, when I said underpants in this I meant those white pants thing Link uses, which is probably called tights or something, but I didn't want you guys to read this and imagine reader with, like, fishnets by accident lmao

Time has anxiety and I'll not elaborate

I was gonna post this tomorrow, but ya know

TWs: Yanderism, stalking, suggestiveness, clothing stealing.

Yandere! LU! Time x Reader

In a way, Time was like a cat.

There was no way you could just ignore random articles of your clothes going missing every time you went to bath.

No matter where you went to clean yourself, it was like one part of your outfit was picked out by hand and evaporated, be it your undershirt, underpants, socks, and sometimes even your underwear!

You tried everything to prevent it, hiding your clothes, setting up traps… You only drew the line when it came to anything to do with poison, since you couldn't bear to possibly end up killing an innocent animal just for the sake of clothes.

Even if said clothes somehow always ended up randomly returning unscathed to the rest of your laundry.

Time and time again, this topic was brought up in conversations with the men you traveled alongside. Yet, for some reason, the matter was also time and time again swept under the rug. It never got solved, neither did it ever get discussed, more often than not.

Starkly different from your point of view, Time found it pretty cute how you got all fussy over some little clothes, clothes which he could easily just make you throw away and buy new ones, it's not like he was lacking the rupees for it, after all.

Yet, he couldn't find it within himself to keep pressing on that matter, not when you looked just so embarrassed protesting against the idea of throwing away your under clothes, stressing about how comfortable your clothes were and about how they were your favorite because of that exact reason.

From what he's noticed, you barely ever wore anything else, no matter how many clothes they could offer you, which was proof of just how much you adored that outfit, each part that composed it having been carefully thought out before being picked out by your hand back when they first went to the market to look for an appropriate Hyrulean attire for you.

It was more than obvious by now that you weren't planning on getting rid of it any time soon.

Still, despite all your best attempts to keep your clothes safe, you couldn't really stop them from randomly disappearing, that is, unless you stopped bathing, and that was something you obviously couldn't even consider doing.

So, you simply sighed with resolution as you took off your clothes to once again go into the river next to the camp, wanting to wash off any grime that may have rubbed on you from the last battle the Links went through before you guys left for the next village.

A little ways down in the same river, you knew the other men were washing themselves, that way, a scream would be all they needed know to come over to help you, should anything happen.

Not that anything had ever happened to you while you were bathing.

You kind of felt like you were being watched, but then again, you learned to not pay attention to that, after all, your brain always seemed to like playing tricks on you, be it making you think you saw the shadows in the corner of your eye moving, or strange noises coming from bushes, all of which always proved to be absolutely nothing at all. Especially the strangely distinctive smell of Time rubbing off on your clothes...

Besides, whenever you looked around yourself to see if your senses were correct, you'd only be able to hear the calm silence of the river waters, almost as if the fish itself held back from swimming every time you tensed up.

The regular calming ambiance noises returned when you finally stopped being paranoid, going back to washing yourself with a relieved sigh, knowing the feeling of being watched was just a product of your tricky mind.

Sound doesn't travel much underwater. Should it be sounds of heavy breathing, sounds of something much larger than the river fish swimming, or even the heavy sounds of metal boots sinking into the sandy floor of the river with every step their wearer took.

Time observed with certain amusement as you walked around the shallow part of the river, your head just above the surface, your feet dangling dangerously near the deeper part. One wrong step and you could risk drowning.  

However, you seemed to be having fun while cleaning yourself, enjoying the cool, clean water. The elder, though, was having his own fun watching you.

He had to give it to you though, no matter what you did, your movements were always so captivating to him. He had already seen a lot in his life, many races, creatures and even monsters. Yet you had such a… Human way of behaving. Even if humans were so alike hylians, you still seemed different in a way, a very good way in his eyes.

What was even more interesting to him was the fact that you were still different from the other humans he'd met through his life.

More often than not your actions were unpredictable and random, not at all serious, it was like you somehow weren't very phased after getting kicked out of whatever universe you originally belonged in and into another. An universe that was extremely dangerous and distinct from yours. His universe.

You were very, very far from your home, yet he could still see some of it in the way you spoke, behaved and reacted to the things and beings around you.

Sometimes, he'd catch himself becoming infatuated again with the stuff that he was already used to, simply because you seemed so surprised and excited by them. 

Things he saw in his everyday life and just happened to ignore. Places, people, animals, creatures, plants, you name it. You gave him a renewed view of life, the whole "enjoy the small things in life" a concept so simple that still managed to make him feel truly alive again.

When he was with you he felt like Hylia and the Golden Goddesses themselves were paying him back for all heroic deeds he performed. In his eyes, you saved him.

In no time, watching the stars with you became a new routine, you were always so interested in them, yet still didn't seem to mind when he preferred to do something else, as to avoid looking at the moon.

Therefore, counting and catching fireflies was the next best thing.

And before he even noticed, he had bought an extra satchel at the market just so he could collect and buy those things that reminded him of you, things he noticed you pointing out whenever you saw. Pretty rocks, shiny crystals, colorful shells, and even those silly little trinkets that, in his eyes were useless, yet brought happiness to yours.

You'd even managed to make him blush the other day, when you told him he was acting like a cat, placing gifts by your bedroll at night, while you were asleep.

Yes, you made him blush. Him, The elder, The Hero Of Time that was also The leader their group, a group made up of the strongest men known in the history of Hyrule.

But, in a way, you were actually correct. 

Cats are very attached to their favorite person, enough to follow them around and watch them do the most simple things, like sleeping, or bathing.

He didn't feel like admitting to those things though, especially not to stealing your clothes.

At first, he assured himself that he was doing all that watching just to make sure you were safe, after all, bathing time was the only moment of the day when you were “fully alone” or so you thought. Time would never forgive himself if you accidentally got hurt because of his lack of attention to you, even if the “hurt” in question was merely a scratch on your knee from accidentally slipping while bathing.

He knew better than anyone that too much peace meant something bad could happen at any time, and too little peace was even worse! Therefore, there was no middle ground, you needed to be protected at all times. And the fact he also got a little fun out of guarding you didn't hurt anyone. After all, what the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel.

He didn't even try lying to himself about stealing your clothes, he wasn't that delusional, after all, liking your smell didn't sound like too good of an excuse to tell you, should you find out about that little habit of his.

In a way, he wasn't even hidden right now, per say, he was just not in plain view. 

In fact, sometimes even hoped you saw him, so that he'd be able to stop just watching and join you already.

After all, you wouldn't be able to get hurt if he was right there beside you, right?

Let him keep pretending that's the only reason he wanted to join you in the bath.

[nyxsealia]

An example of why LGBTQ+ representation in media matters, especially children's media.

As a child I didn't know LGBTQ+ people existed. There were no queer people in my family, or in family friends. (At least, that I was aware of) I remember one time we went to the library and there was an educational table set up outside with information about pride. I asked my mom what all the rainbows were for. I don't remember what she said, other than I remember her mentioning one of my older brother's friends who apparently had two moms. I was very little. I forgot about that conversation and was no more aware of queer people.

I don't remember seeing queer characters in media. The first time I can remember seeing LGBTQ+ people depicted in anything was in the music video for Avichii's "Addicted to You" the plot of the music video follows a pair of female robbers who are explicitly in a romantic relationship. I was absolutely fascinated by this music video when I saw my brother watching it. I was eleven. This music video follows a lot of the common queer TV tropes. The women are criminals, the "bad guys" and they die in the end. But this was the first time I can remember seeing lesbians.

Even as a teenager, I don't remember seeing much LGBTQ+ characters in media. I was intrigued when the token gay side character would show up in a TV show, but that wasn't really representation. I still knew nothing about queer people. A boy in my art class came out to me as trans. The exact words he used were "I'm a trans guy." and I legitimately didn't know if that meant ftm or mtf. I accidentally misgendered him once because of it.

In my early teens, I said some pretty ignorant things. Luckily just to my family, but still. It wasn't until I started questioning my sexuality in my late teens that I actually started to learn anything about the LGBTQ+ community. I did a lot of research, not all related to figuring out my sexuality, just about LGBTQ+ experiences and identities. I watched videos by LGBTQ+ YouTubers, listened to podcasts, read articles, all by queer creators.

I especially made a point of understanding transgender people, because that was something at the time that greatly confused me. So I looked for videos, podcasts, articles etc, made by transgender people themselves where they talked about their feelings and experiences. It made a huge difference. I wasn't confused anymore, I couldn't relate to how they felt, but I had understanding and empathy. I went from confused and unaware, to understanding and supportive. Just from a bit of research.

But even at this point, there was still little to no LGBTQ+ media representation. When I came out at 18 and felt comfortable picking movies focused on queer characters, I had a heck of a time finding any. I did find some, and while a lot of them weren't great, I did find a few really good ones. (Saving Face and Late Bloomers are two of my favourites)

Things are getting better, slowly. We're starting to see more media focused around LGBTQ+ characters, and children's media including the topic. It's long overdue and we're still not quite there yet. You're gonna have a hard time finding media focused on LGBTQ+ characters that aren't white, able bodied gay, lesbian, or bisexual characters. Representation for trans, non binary, asexual and aromantic identifies, queer people of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds, religious queer people, and disabled queer people, and any combination of the above, is still lacking. We still have more work to do.

Having these kinds of shows and movies would have made a big difference for me growing up, and it will make a big difference for thousands of other kids who are growing up right now.

This isn't a negative post to complain about the lack of media, it's an example of it's importance and optimism for the future. I do believe this will continue to get better, however slow that may be. This is just my little reminder of why it needs to.

I hope anyone who reads this is having a good day. You're valid and loved, no matter who you are. Stay safe.

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 7

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1330

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

Panic set in. Lisa knew about your affair with Minho. It's over. You thought heartbroken. If Lisa tells anyone about this, it will be over you.... And over Minho, too. She'll destroy his career, and you'll be kicked out of college. 

You didn't know what to do. Should you call him? Even if you did, would he answer? Should you text Lisa back? If you do, the girl will start blackmailing you. If you don't, Lisa may go one step further. You felt you were about to explode. You had to tell someone. You sighed heavily and dialed Jeno's number. He always knew what to do. 

“Hello?” You heard his voice. “Y/N? Why are you calling at this hour?”

“Hi Jeno...” You said uncertainly. “I have a huge problem... Can you come over to my place?”

“But what's wrong?” The boy said worriedly. “Y/N did someone hurt you?”

“What... no... no. Just... this is not a conversation on the phone...”

“Okay, I'll be there in twenty minutes.” He replied, then hung up. 

For you, it was the longest twenty minutes you've ever had to wait. Jeno, like Minho, did not live far from where you lived. You were just separated by a twenty-minute walk that dragged on mercilessly. Finally, you heard the doorbell ring. You jumped off the couch and let your friend inside. 

“Woah, what's wrong?” Asked the boy puzzled by your behavior.

“I'm having an affair with Minho and Lisa saw us and took pictures of us and now I have a problem with Lisa and I don't know what to do and...” You started throwing out words with the speed of a gun.

“Wait, what? Slower... The affair with Minho? Lee Minho, the lecturer?” He asked, shocked, to which you only nodded your head. Jeno sighed heavily. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Well, I don't know exactly, okay? Everything was ok until now...” 

“Okay, tell me everything, relax, we'll work something out.”

You told Jeno how you met Minho. You told him about the club, about your first classes, about the intoxicating night at his apartment and the unexpected visitor in the morning. You told about Lisa and the photos, then hid your face in your hands, fearing your friend's reaction. 

“Have you told Minho about this yet?” Asked Jeno calmly. “Or did you decide that you wouldn't bother him?"

“I haven't told him yet... He went back to the apartment to get rid of Rheena... You're the only person I've told.”

“I feel honored.” Jeno rolled his eyes. “I think you should tell Minho about this blackmail. I don't like the fact that you're sleeping with a lecturer, but you can't hide it from him, especially since Lisa has evidence.”

“Well, yes, I know... but...”

“There is no but Y/N, call him now and ask him to come. I'll wait with you. Come on...”

You sighed quietly and called Minho. One beep, a second, a third.... You glanced at Jeno, who had been watching you the whole time. You were already about to hang up when you heard HIS voice.

“Hello? Did you miss me that much, kitten?” Asked Minho, in his usual velvety voice.

“C-could you come?” You ignored his question. 

“What's wrong?” The man immediately sensed that something was wrong. You sighed heavily, which worried him even more. “Kitten, what's the matter? What's going on?”

“ This is not a conversation on the phone, Minho.”  You said.

“I'll be there in a minute.” The lecturer replied and hung up. You put the phone back on the table and glanced at your friend. 

“Well...?” 

“He said he'll be here in a minute.”

“That's great, in that case we're waiting.”

“We're waiting...”

The wait for Minho's arrival grew even longer than the wait for Jeno. You could feel the stress overwhelming you. Every now and then you glanced nervously at your watch. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Time passed terribly slowly. Finally, you heard a knock. You got off the couch and rushed to open it. 

“Y/N? What happened?” Minho entered your apartment. He immediately noticed that you were not alone. “What's the matter?”

“Lisa saw us and took pictures of us getting into your car. We are gone Minho!” You said quickly, panicked. 

“Calm down... Lisa saw us?” He asked, puzzled. “Does anyone else know about us besides Lisa?”

“Jeno...” You looked at him uncertainly. 

“And Jeno knows because...” Started Minho looking at the boy, who was looking at the whole scene. The lecturer measured him with his eyes. 

“Because I told him... I didn't know what to do ok? I didn't want to bother you...”

“In this situation you should have told me first.” The man hissed. “And you should have just bothered me. How can I be sure that this friend of yours won't rat us out?”

“I won't rat you out.” Assured Jeno. “But not for your sake, but for Y/N's.”

“I don't trust him.” Minho muttered.

“You don't have to.” You replied. “But the bigger problem now is Lisa. She has our photos Minho... She will blackmail me and...”

“She won't, I'll take care of her...” You were interrupted by the man in a calm tone. 

“And how do you seem to plan to do that?” Asked Jeno. 

“It's already my business how. Show me the photos Y/N. “Without a word you handed your phone to the man. Minho looked through all the photos, then immediately sent them to himself on his phone. He handed the device back to you and looked at you. 

“I don't like the fact that you didn't call me first in this case.” He said bluntly. “You should have just done it Y/N.”

“I know, I'm sorry...” You replied quietly while sticking your gaze into your shoes. 

“Just apologizing is not enough. What guarantee can I have that you won't tell anyone else? That this friend of yours won't talk, huh?” 

“I won't speak out.” Jeno interrupted. “If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't have called you at all. Think about why...maybe she's afraid of you?”

“First of all, I don't talk to you, and second of all, Y/N has no reason to be afraid of me, and she knows that very well.”

“And yet she didn't call.”

“And yet further you were not asked by anyone.”

“You dragged her into the deal without her wanting to, and now you have the consequences.”

“If she didn't want to, she wouldn't have gotten into it. I'm not forcing her into anything.”

“Mhm, the sex in the office was certainly not forced. Might as well leak the photos, Y/N will then testify that you forced her to do it and go to jail.”

“I won't go to jail, because I didn't force her to do anything. She wanted it herself.”

“Okay, that's enough!” You interrupted their exchange of words. “Your argument won't help anything. Minho is not forcing me to do anything, Jeno. I wanted it myself, he's right. I appreciate that you are worried, but you really have nothing to worry about...”

“Aha, since I have nothing to worry about, I'll go in that case... You don't need me.” Jeno pulled his jacket off the hanger and put on his shoes. “Next time, call your lover right away, not me.”

“Jeno but...”

“Goodbye Y/N.” He left slamming the door. You sighed quietly. 

“He'll get over it.” Minho stated. “Why didn't you call me?”

“I don't know!” You sighed. “I guess I was afraid you'd be mad at me for bothering you. You said yourself that you were going to see a friend and...”

“I wouldn't be angry with you, kitten... and I'm not angry now.” He walked up to you and embraced you. “You have to keep me informed about such things, okay?” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Come, let's take a shower. You'll relax, and then we'll think about what to do next...”

——————————

<- Part 6 | Part 8 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim, @palindrome969, @biujulia

[cheeseceli]

Falling in Love [deeper than I've felt before]

Pairing: Hyunjin × gn!Reader

Genre: fluff, slowburn

Warnings: reader drinks alcohol at some point, not proofread.

Request: part 2 of Moving On but can be read individually

a/n: it took a while to go to the plot but i promise y/n moves on lmao; the ending is a bit rushed? But creativity had left me sadly. Also this was posted accidentally so I'm so sorry if there is something which seems off

The day has come. And you still can't believe how dumb you were from accepting the invitation to go to your ex's wedding.

You were going straight to the biggest heartbreak you'd ever have, but there was no turning back now. You said you would be in the damn party so you will be there.

"Seriously Y/n, I think you shouldn't go." Yeji, a friend of yours, said while helping you figure out something to wear "Just tell him that you were sick or something. I can lie to him if you want"

"I said I'd be there and I'm not one to break a promise."

"It's barely a promise. He admitted himself that it would be awkward, it's better if you skip it. You're just torturing yourself at this point"

"I'm going. Besides, maybe that's what I need to finally move on. It's been 3 years already. I need that."

Yeji sighed. She openly disagreed with your point of view, there should be another way of moving on without shattering your heart into pieces, but she wouldn't insist anymore.

"We have some hours until the wedding. Let's go to the mall, we need something good for you to wear" she got up from the edge of your bed "unless you wanna go in pajamas."

And that's how, four hours later, you were fully prepared to the wedding. Even though you looked great, you still felt a pain in your chest because of the price you spent. The situation was starting to become a little ridiculous, you couldn't believe you wasted so much money on an outfit you'd never wear again because it'd probably bring a lot of bad memories.

This better have a good outcome.

But deep inside you were happy that Yeji made you put some effort in how you'd look because the place was beautiful. The decoration was really enchanting, with a lot of white and green flowers and you could even hear the sound of a piano. It looked like the wedding was designed to fit a disney princess' movie.

The guests were also gorgeous. Some of them were still your friends while some were "ex-friends", as you lost contact with them after the break up. There were a lot of people you didn't know there, friends and family of Changbin's partner you assumed. It looked like you could actually enjoy the night if it wasn't for the current scenario.

You ended up sitting in the table with all the other Itzy girls and for some moments you were able to forget the bad feeling in your chest. That was until the ceremony started.

Needless to say that you cried during the vows. They were so happy, Changbin was happy. At the same time that your heart was aching, you felt a a weight out of your shoulders. It was like you were finally given the chance to set free from your past and not be attached to it anymore.

Changbin wouldn't come back. You shouldn't wait for him.

It was less painful than what you originally thought. Seeing how he cried after seeing his partner and how he didn't hesitate to kiss them, you could even feel happiness. I'm happy you're happy at last. That's how you were able to clap and celebrate for the now married couple, along the rest of the guests.

Now, of course, you needed to drink. Realisation was still sinking in and you couldn't say congratulations to the couple while being sober. That's why you went straight up to the bar once people started to dance and sat down in the first free chair you could find.

"Y/n?"

You looked to the side and saw Hyunjin. The fact that sooner or later one of the stray kids members would show up slipped of your mind and you were actually surprised for seeing the boy in front of you. Even though you were still friends with Changbin, you barely talked to the kids. The last time you saw Hyunjin was two years ago, you think. He got even prettier, you noticed.

"Hey" you finally reply "it's been a while."

"I know right? Wasn't expecting to see you here though."

"I wasn't supposed to be here I guess... I might be leaving soon"

It seemed that Hyunjin understood the circumstances, it was reasonable your urge to leave. But at the same time, the night had just started and it's been a pretty long time since you last talked to everyone. They missed you. He missed you.

"At least have a drink with me" he proposes, already calling the bartender "I wanna know what you've been into." How could you say no?

So you and Hyunjin drank together while catching up with each other and God, you did miss a lot. Hyunjin was talking about every show they attended to while you gossiped about a drama that was happening in your work place. He showed pictures of his paintings while you showed pictures of your pets. He even gave you a minor spoiler of their next comeback. You laughed a lot during some hours.

While you were telling him about the last trip you did with some of your friends, a different song started playing and everyone got out of the center of the room. You looked at the commotion to find out it was when the just married couple begun their dance. You were observing them, so you failed to notice Hyunjin's gaze on you and his little smile. He truly missed you.

"Are you guys okay?"

You looked at him, taking a while to understand what he meant. By the time you comprehended it, he regretted and tried saying "I'm sorry, shouldn't have asked".

"We're okay" you answered "we should be at least."

"No hard feelings? Were you able to, you know, move on?"

"I'm moving on as we speak. I think this is my last chapter with him."

He was looking at you with curiosity. Like he actually wanted to understand your feelings, like he actually wanted to listen without judgements. So you kept explaining:

"Maybe I was ready for a while, I just didn't want to let go. I've never been good with changes. I just didn't want to lose the possibility of everything being fine without any change." you grew consciously of the man's attention on you, so you tried to brush it off by laughing "Sorry for the therapy session all of the sudden."

He giggled "Don't worry, I don't mind. I'm happy for you, to be able to keep going. Happy for both of you."

The dance was close to an end and everyone was cheering, but Changbin and his partner looked like they were in their own world, lost in each others embrace and smile. You could see their love in their eyes. That's what they deserved.

"I am happy too."

You were being genuine. Its like another weight was lifted off you. You were slowly collecting the pieces of your heart and putting them together. You were healing.

When the newlyweds finished their first dance as a married couple, the guests applauded in joy and went back to the dance floor when another song started playing. Hyunjin drank the last sip of the drink he ordered and stood up. You didn't want to admit but you were kinda disappointed that he was already going. You started to wonder if you had said anything wrong or said too much, that was until he offered his hand to you with a smile.

He saw your confused expression and explained it clearly“Let's dance. You're not planning on staying in this bar for the whole night, are you? ”

“I am, actually. Besides I'm going home soon, there's no need to-”

“C'mon Y/n. ” he interrupted you while moving forward to hold your hand “You cannot come to a wedding party and not dance to at least one song. I promise I'll stop bothering you after this.”

Hesitantly, you held his hand back and got up.

“Was my offer to stop bothering you so tempting? You're even smiling” he said, making you laugh.

“Shut up.”

The room was filled with couples and friends. You didn't notice that the song that was playing, falling in love by cigarettes after sex, required a slow dancing. You just noticed it after Hyunjin was really close to you, holding your waist with both hands and smiling dearly for you. You soon placed your hands in his shoulder.

“You weren't so bold before, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Normally you wouldn't invite someone to dance, you were always kinda shy. I remember I begged you to dance with me in my own birthday party and still you denied.”

“That was when I was a trainee, how do you even remember that?”

“Oh it made me cry for weeks”

He laughed, bringing you closer to him. You guys were barely dancing, you were just hugging each other and swinging from side to side.

“Were you always this dramatic?”

“You're one to talk.”

“Well...” Hyunjin said before sighing, like he was wondering what words to use for what he was about to say.“we can say that I regret not accepting your invite to dance back then. And who knows when I'll have another opportunity.”

You were the shy one now. You really didn't expect to Hyunjin to be so bold, even though he didn't say nothing considered too much and you probably were analysing to deeply. Trying to not blush, you decided to light the situation: "I say it was the alcohol that made you so straightforward."

"Oh that helped of course" he laughed. And you kept talking the most random things while being on each other's arms, dancing to a love song like it was something casual. When the first song came to an end, he was ready to say goodbye to you, even though that was the last thing he wanted in the moment.

"I don't mind dancing for another song" you said. You don't know what made you change your mind so quickly, but then you saw his smile and understood the change of heart. That smile was worth a lot of dances.

You probably danced for more than two hours. In slow songs you'd just hug each other while talking about your life, in happy songs you would dance like crazy and proceed to judge those who were better than you and sometimes you'd just follow hyunjin's lead to try to follow a dance routine. You just stopped when Hyunjin was covered in sweat and your feet couldn't handle anymore. Then you both went to the bar, laughing like that was the funniest thing to ever happen on your life.

"Y/N!"

Looking to the side, you were met with Yeji. You noticed that her breath wasn't even, which meant that she was probably looking for you for a while now.

“You're still friends with Yeji?”

“Yeah, we still go out sometimes. Why?”

“Just wanted to know.”

“I was looking for you everywhere” Yeji was now right in front of you, breathing heavily “Me and the girls are going back to the dorms, we need to be up early tomorrow. Do you want to go with us?”

You searched for your cell phone, wondering what time it was. It was a little bit past midnight. You wanted to be there for more time, you felt like the night was just starting, but sadly the Itzy girls were your only ride back home. That meant you needed to go now.

You glanced at Hyunjin, who was looking at with expectation. For a second you thought that he was trying to convince you to stay for a bit longer, to enjoy the night with him. But it couldn't be this, right? So you just brushed it off.

“Well, I'll be going then” he gave you a small smile, but he was averting his eyes, trying to not look directly at you, but still he got closer to hug you goodbye “I hope to see you around.”

“Don't go missing this time.”

You laughed at his little joke and he giggled back. You believe it would've been easier to go away if he kept looking at somewhere else, but now his eyes were on you and you felt like you couldn't move. You truly wished the night could be longer.

You had your thoughts interrupted when Yeji faked a cough by your side, making you and Hyunjin both come back to reality and making you get away from his arms. Only then you started to walk away, trying to not look as much as you could.

“Bye Hyunjin.”

He just nodded his head, trying to not say bye. You and Yeji started to walk away, saying goodbye to the ones you'd find in your way.

"Oh wait" you remembered your friend "I still have to congratulate Changbin and his partner, I didn't get the chance to do that earlier."

"They were talking to his parents last time I saw them. Do you feel better?"

"Kinda? I mean, it will take a while to be 100% over this but I already feel a weight off my shoulders."

Yeji smiled and, even though she didn't say anything else, you could see she was happy for your growth. Now you could only wish you would heal and find yourself in a better situation from now on. Maybe you could fall in love again, deeper than you've felt before.

Feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated!

[yangbbokari]

Do You Love Me Too?

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader x Jeongin Genre/AU/Trope: Angst, fluff(?), hurt comfort(?), College!AU, friends to friends to potential lovers(idk if that counts😭) WC: 1.4k Summary: You like him so why can't he see that? But as for the other, he likes you, why can't you see that? Is it so hard to find someone who loves you in this life? Warnings: unrequited love, language(? I don't remember just in case), mentions of stomach cancer, now I'm too lazy to wrote the rest so tell me if I missed something A.N. This was supposed to be posted last Friday but y'all are getting it today. Enjoy!🤗

Growing up, you had two best friends. One, was named Jeongin and the other, was Hyunjin. Anywhere Hyunjin went, you went, and so did Jeongin. It’s been like this since before you could remember. Of course each of you made a few other friends along the way but none were quite like your trio. 

But there was something different about your group. A little more different than any other average friend group. You were friends with benefits. Well at least with Hyunjin. You couldn’t exactly say the same for Jeongin. 

When you were alone with Hyunjin, that meant that he had full control. Even right before a hang out, he’d come extra early to spend “special” time with you. You could never say no to him. After all, you have had a crush on him since freshman year of highschool. Being in college didn’t change that.

The two of you never thought you’d get caught. But little did y’all know, that Jeongin had known from the start. The flushed cheeks, swollen lips, purple marks along the neck, new set of clothes from what you wore earlier. How could he not notice. Especially since he’s loved you since childhood. He always saw you chase after Hyunjin and never him. But, what right did he have if he was not the one you liked? So he ignored everything and pretended that he never knew a thing. 

That was up until, for the first time, you ran into his arms. He was stunned. This wasn’t something that would usually happen so why happen now? But then he heard your sobs, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“I-Innie… I just don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? Did you know I liked Hyunjin too?” You look up at him with teary eyes. Jeongin was so flustered he just blurted out the truth. “Y-yeah!” It only made you sob harder. He was worried but unsure of what to do. 

You continued to ramble. “Everyone knows I’m in love with him BUT him! Am I that unlikable? I’ve chased after him for so many years. I’ve done everything he’s wanted. H-he tells me he loves me when we have intimate moments so why is he with another girl now!? He holds me while kissing my forehead so why is he doing that with another girl now!? He makes me feel special but was that all a lie!?” 

Jeongin held you tightly and shushed you down. “No, you’re not that unlikable. Maybe he just doesn’t see you that way. Maybe it’s right person wrong time. If he can do all that with you why can’t I? Why can’t I make you feel special? Why can’t I hold you? Why can’t I tell you that I love you?”

“Cuz’ you’re not him, Innie. No one’s like Hyunjin.” He felt his heart shatter. Of course he wasn’t. After all, as blind as Hyunjin was, so were you. Why couldn’t you see his gigantic, heart, eyes, that only held you? Was he that hard to love? ~~~ After that, you began to ignore both of them. Jeongin also ignored both of you. Hyunjin was a little confused.The rest of the school was baffled. Neither of you have ever grown apart like this. Not even after an argument. Y'all would always make up somehow. So this was a little weird. Hyunjin was worried. His two closest best friends have never done this so he called the both of you for a meet up. Sitting in the cafe was insufferable. Not to mention that Hyunjin also brought his girlfriend, Lia. You looked everywhere but at Hyunjin, too sure you were going to cry if you did. Jeongin simply didn't know if you knew that he accidentally confessed to you so he's been keeping his distance.

Hyunjin sighed loudly. "So are we just going to sit here all day? What's going on with my bestfriends? Did I do something wrong?"

"NO!" Both you and Jeongin yelled at the same time. Hyunjin sighed once more. "Then what is it?" You didn't want to speak more than you already did. Because you knew if you did, you'd accidentally tell Hyunjin how much you've loved him from the start. So you rose from you position and left. 

Now it was Jeongin's turn to sigh. "I'll go talk to her and walk her back to the dorms." With that, he also left, leaving Hyunjin and Lia behind.

He called out after you. "Y/nnie! Wait!" But you continued to ignore him. He huffed before running to catch up with you and whipping you around by the wrist. That was when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

"You should've just left me alone. This is so embarrassing." You said as you were wiping away your tears. Jeongin's eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around you. "It's not. This is what bestfriends are for, aren't they?" You chuckled and gently hit him on the shoulder. "Oh, shut up." He laughed with you. "There's my Y/nnie. That's the smile she always wears." You don't know why but your heart fluttered. "My Y/nnie..." You repeat to yourself quietly.

Jeongin walked you the rest of the way to your dorms. He hugged you and then he turned to leave. But then you gently grabbed and tugged his sleeve. "Innie?" His heart pounded against his rib cage. "Y-yeah..?" You took a deep breath. "Did you mean what you said the other day? You know, when you said that I should do everything with you instead." He nodded his head. "Then does that mean that you like me?" 

Think, Jeongin, think. If you don't come up with something she'll find out. He quickly turned to you with a soft smile. "No. I just wanted to make you feel better. Besides, I don't have to like you to hold you do I?" You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Oh, thank God! I wouldn't have the heart to reject you. Thank you, Jeongin. For being so good to me." 

His gaze faltered. You were relieved that he didn't love you. So how would it turn out when you knew that he does? 

But Jeongin didn't let you see that. He just smiled and said, "Yeah."

After you went inside, Jeongin finally let his tears flow freely. How could he be so stupid to ever think that you'd give him a chance. To ever think that your view on him would even change the slightest.

Later that night, you called Hyunjin. "Hello, y/n?" You wanted to slap yourself from ever avoiding him when you heard the worry lacing his voice. "I'm sorry, Hyunjin. None of this was your fault. Me and Jeongin talked ours out so..." You paused, not sure of what to say.

"...so we're all good?" Hyunjin finished for you. You smiled, not that he could see it. "Yeah... we're good." ~~~ Back at school, everything went back to normal. Three best friends enjoying their time. As per usual, you'd bring Hyunjin strawberry milk during lunch. Except this time, he rejected it.

"No, thanks. Lia's getting me something."

"Oh..."

Jeongin could see how the happiness in your eyes faltered. So he snatched the milk carton from your hands.

"Nice! Y/nnie, I knew you loved me. Strawberry milk just how I like it."

"Oh, shut up!"

You punched him on the shoulder and the two of you had your own little time, just horsing around. With Jeongin distracting you, you didn't even notice when Lia came in. That was until you heard her say, "Jesus, you two. You guys would look so cute together. Why don't y'all date already." She giggled and Hyunjin agreed.

Both, your's and Jeongin's cheeks flushed red and you both stopped bickering. "For the record, Jeongin is like a little brother to me. No thanks." You fake gagged.

Jeongin could feel a sharp pang in his heart. Little brother... he'd make sure to keep that in mind. "Ew, Y/n? Absolutely not. I'd rather date a pig."

"Well fuck you too, Yang Jeongin!"

He stuck out his tongue at you as you began bickering with him again. ~~~ In class, the only class that you had with Hyunjin, Lia, and Jeongin, the teacher assigned a group project. So of course you all banded together. Nobody knew how Jeongin made it into this class because out of everyone, only he majored in law while the rest of you majored in visual arts. He claimed that he was taking this art class to get to know his two best friends better. Not that either of you believed it. But it is what it is. 

The project was to create a one of a kind art piece that reflected a little bit of each and everyone's art style and emotions. You immediately chose love. Being the hopeless romantic you are, how could you not? Hyunjin chose excitement, Lia chose Joy, and Jeongin chose sorrow. Jeongin's was a bit different from the rest but the rubric did say everyone. 

Everyone agreed to meet up at the campus study rooms. But Hyunjin and Lia cancelled last minute. Something along the lines of, "We have to go meet with some other people so we can't make it. SORRY!" So now, it was you and Jeongin stuck in a study room for a couple of hours, brainstorming up a plan. 

You began to grow tired and your head was nodding off until you were fully asleep. Jeongin just thought it was the funniest thing to take a few pictures. But he forgot to turn off his flash so it woke you up.

"What the hell, Jeongin! Delete those right now!"

"Make me!"

You chased Jeongin until he gave in. But once he did, you tripped over your own feet. Not wanting to fall face first, you grabbed onto Jeongin. Which inevitably led to him falling on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily but couldn't find the strength to push the other off. Nor could either of you break eye contact. You wouldn't exactly say that you haven't been falling for him either. But this was something new and weird you weren't ready to explore.

Jeongin found this as a chance. A chance for you to see him as worthy. He slowly leaned down, finally breaking eye contact as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips. The closer he got, the harder it was for you to deny the feelings between the two of you. You felt his lips brush against yours when your phone rang, snapping you both out of the trance. 

After practically shoving Jeongin off of you, you picked up the phone. Hyunjin's voice rang in from the other side.

"Hey, y/n. Are you still with Jeongin?"

"Yeah... why?"

"Where are you guys, I'll come meet with you guys."

"Just you?"

"Yeah."

"Where's Lia?"

"I'll explain that later."

"Oh, well we're still at the study rooms."

When Hyunjin arrived, he almost fell into your arms. He began to explain how Lia and him had broken up and how his heart was in shambles. Both you and Jeongin were extremely confused. Hyunjin and Lia had seemed so perfect just hours ago and now they broke up. It was a bit off considering how head over heels they were for each other. ~~~ Hyunjin ended up talking to each of you alone. Jeongin first. He didn't even hesitate. He immediately went straight to the point.

"You like Y/nnie, don't you?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No! That's impossible. She's like an annoying sibling."

"Nobody looks at their annoying sibling like they'd do anything for them and fall to their knees if that sibling asked them to."

Jeongin was a bit speechless for a minute. But then he asked a question.

"And if I did? Why would that matter to you?"

"Because I like her too."

"What!? What about Lia? Weren't you just so devastated that she broke up with you?"

"Lia was someone that helped me."

"In what way?"

"She became my fake-partner for a month."

"The hell does that mean?"

"She pretended to like me for month. In return, I'd help her with her reputation and her classwork."

"Well why did you feel the need to tell me that you liked Y/n too?"

Now Hyunjin was a bit speechless. It was hard for him to explain the situation. He didn't know how to put it into words.

"Because... I want you to be good to her."

"You do know she likes you right?"

"Yeah."

"So why don't you take good care of her yourself?"

"We're not meant for each other."

"Speak in words I can understand, Hyunjin! Quit speaking like Shakespeare wrote you!"

"She's not gonna do any good with me."

"You already slept with her for God's sake! Are just gonna use her and dump her!?"

"That's what I mean! She'll only end up heartbroken with me! I pretended to be in a relationship with Lia so that she'd get over me and realize that you're waiting for her! I'm dying, Innie! There won't be a me anymore! My stomach cancer's already in stage 3!!"

Jeongin went silent. He just nodded his head as he headed out the door. When he walked past you, looking distressed, you became worried. But all he said was, "Hyunjin said he wants to talk to you now." ~~~ Hyunjin kept it short with you. 

"Do you like Jeongin?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me about this?"

"Because my two best friends seem to be a good match. I don't want them to end up alone like me."

"You're stupid."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, because you'll never end up alone. You'll always have me and Innie by your side. That's what friends are for."

As much as Hyunjin's heart was warmed, it also hurt. Knowing that a warm person like you couldn't be his hurt a little too deep.

"Let's go out drinking. For the sake of being friends this long." ~~~ Jeongin knew he had to watch over you so he couldn't drink much. He also wasn't in the nicest mood especially after what Hyunjin told him. Hyunjin couldn't drink. His condition didn't allow him to. You on the other hand, not knowing much, drank to your heart's content. 

"Cheers for Hyunnie's breakup! Cheers so Innie can finally find a girlfriend!" You drunkenly shouted before passing out in between the men. Jeongin turned to Hyunjin. But he couldn't hold his gaze for long.

"When are you planning to tell her?"

"Never?" Hyunjin chuckled tiredly. "I don't want her to know."

"Don't you think it's better for her to know now than later?"

"But if she finds out now, she'll be very careful with me and we won't be able to be the fun best friends we always are. You know how she is."

Now Jeongin got to chuckle. "She is like that." Both men smiled fondly at you. Your mouth wide open, already drooling on Hyunjin's shoulder.

"I'll tell her. Just not now."

Jeongin nodded his head, deciding to put his trust in Hyunjin. Eventually, they decided that Jeongin would take you home and Hyunjin would go on his own. 

In the back of the taxi, on the way home, you looked up at Jeongin, studying his features.

"Innie?"

"Oh, you're awake."

"Is that you, Innie?"

"Mhmm."

He could tell that you still weren't sober but still decided to keep the conversation going.

"What is it, Y/nnie?"

"What do you think of me? Am I good enough?"

"Of course you are. I think you're an amazing person. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

"Then do you like me?"

"Do you think that I like you?"

"I don't know!" You began to pout and he just thought it was so cute. He couldn't exactly pull out his phone, so he took a mental picture of this very moment. "Why can't you like me, Jeongin!? Am I ugly!? Am I too much of a sister to you!?"

That's when you started crying and Jeongin couldn't help but fall even deeper in love with you.

"There's just some things I can't tell you." He whispered into your hair.

You were already getting drowsy again when you softly mumbled. "Can you at least love me back the way I love you? I've just been waiting for you to say that you love me."

He could feel his cheeks warm when you said that. Maybe one day he could tell you how much he loves you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ another a.n: I have more so there might be a part 2 but I didn't know how to word it. and ik, the ending is pretty ass but thats all I have so far

[depravitycentral]

Hi, I also gotta say that the uvogin fanfic is amazing I also really enjoyed reading that <3.

It was actually a good plan but why the heck did he even print out chats in the first place and kept them in the drawer under the TV? Like if it were his room ok but in the livingroom? Was it maybe his plan that the reader finds it on their own so he could have a reason to stop the pretend and then the reader would blame themselves?

(The fic is question is Partnership)

Ooh, I hadn't even considered the last part of that! That would've been a really good ending - my stand-by for fics is to make endings leading into shock and then sex or a post-sex haze; I am a creature of habit. (Mostly, I just saw the word count was getting to five number places and was worried no one would want to read something longer.)

But genuinely, you finding the evidence of his obsession was an accident - one Uvogin sincerely, honestly hoped wouldn't happen. And you're obedient, he knows that - even if you have a more rebellious streak in you, he's big. He's scary. He's strong. He told you not to snoop. He was sure enough that he'd be willing to bet his own life that you wouldn't dare disobey him or his rules - he knows your body language well enough from all that stalking to be able to read you like a book, and he knew from the moment that blindfold came off that he had you in the palm of his hand.

But then you did the unexpected. You rebelled. You disobeyed.

You were bad, and while he's initially mad at you, frankly he's more surprised than anything - a little impressed and proud of you, even. It fucks up all his plans, of course, but it's nice to see you growing a backbone, even if it is just against him.

And he did have plans, really - plans to slowly grow on you, to continue getting your favorite foods and 'accidentally' starting a new series or set of movies - and oh? What's this? They're your favorites? What a coincidence!

He was going to slowly ease you into the idea of intimacy; a hand lingering on your shoulder here or there, catching you when you fall (he sent a small burst of aura your way that had you losing your balance, but that's just a trivial detail), scoffing at you and telling you that you're holding that knife all wrong, let me show you how to really cut something. (He'll stand behind you, his chest flush against your back, arms grabbing your own and guiding you through the chopping motion, the extra cologne he'd spritzed on earlier in the day making your nose tingle and your cheeks feel warm.)

(And then, once you're asleep that night, he'll fuck his fist so hard it nearly breaks.)

He had a plan, yes, but he's mature enough to realize that it's all his fault that it didn't pan out (well, maybe a bit your's, too, because you'd decided to grow a pair and break one of his cardinal demands). He'd been stringant with keeping all evidence in check - away and secure so that you wouldn't find it. Maybe, with time, he'd show you all the things he's collected over the months he's been watching you - maybe, but only if the Stockholm Syndrome was in full swing, if you were willingly kissing him, instigating sex or even whispering those three little words with honesty. Maybe he would've, just to show you how much he cared - how much he still cares.

But to answer your question, nonnie, the reason why he has the chats printed out is because he wrote them while tapping into your phone line. Shalnark didn't mind doing his buddy a favor, and getting the bug planted wasn't too difficult. And it would go off at the most random times - when he's out, traveling for Troupe business, he doesn't have a computer or anything on him, and a scrap piece of paper and a pen are his only tools. He records what you're saying because everything that comes out of your mouth feels important, like it's something he needs to remember, like it's something that might give him more insight into who you are - another layer of you, maybe even one that only Uvogin ever gets to see.

And of course, once it's written down, he can't just throw it away. He has to keep them - just in case something you said becomes relevant. Just in case you mention something about him - the large man who passed you on the street today, but you were too busy with your nose buried in your phone to notice. The large man who was at the other end of the aisle in the grocery store as you agonized over which flavor of ice cream to buy with your limited budget.

And as for the placement of where he keeps all these scribbled records of your every phone call and interaction, well, it's really a no brainer. It was the only spot that wasn't already full with something relating to you.

Every cabinet, drawer, closet, shelf, nook, and cranny in his apartment is full of you you you. He's got everything his greedy hands could get ahold of - your underwear, chapstick, button, and bandaid, of course, but there's more. It ranges from things that are less disturbing - normal, even, like a pair of earrings or a hairbrush - to things that are just a little more suspicious. (Like your old toothbrushes - yes, plural - or your haribrush.) Things that could be considered totally understandable (if not a big extreme) and not creepy if you and Uvogin were actually a couple.

And then, of course, there's the more intimate items, the things you had the displeasure of stumbling upon - your panties, for example, and if you were to peruse through the cabinets below the sink in the bathroom you'd find all sorts of menstrual supplies, with your favorite brands, the right products for your flow, even the dinky menstrual cup you'd tried on a whim because a friend recommended it. (Yes, you'd thrown it away because it'd been too messy when you took it out and yes, Uvogin searched through your trash bag just to find it.)

He may come off as this big, imposing, simple, one-track-minded man, but he's not. At least, not only those things. Uvogin is smart - and as most yanderes with brains tend to do, his obsession teeters much more on the side of collecting information about you than you'd expect. He's just honestly curious about you in every way - he's clingy and needy and wants you, so badly that it hurts, and collecting your things was a way to help alleviate some of that ache before he could properly be with you.

So while he didn't want you to find any of his stolen goods, frankly, it was inevitable - any storage space (except the room he houses you in - just because he'd be tempting fate if he asked you not to root through anything in the modest closet or drawer set he's assigned to you) contains evidence and proof that Uvogin didn't just randomly get stuck with you. It was all purposeful, planned, calculated - and you, poor sweet little you, just had the misfortune of finding that out much too early.

Ignorance really is bliss, isn't it?

[ateliersss]

Favourites - Part 2

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader Summary: Falling in love with someone as brave and lonely as Simon Riley as a woman with your profession was foolish, hopeless, because how could he ever feel the same? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1,975 Part 1

It was two months later when you danced again on that platform of The Blue Angel club, this time wearing a complicated black lace lingerie set, the diamonds stitched on it glinting in the spotlight with every move you made.

You were used to the heated gazes fixed on your body, but you could always keep them apart from the one pair of eyes you craved on you.

Without needing to look into his direction, to his usual spot, you knew he was there.

So he was back from yet another deployment.

The knowledge he was here today, his sole attention on you and only on you, gave you a confidence boost and you ended your routine after yet another impressive performance.

While an employee collected the bills you earned to bring them to your locker in the dressing room, another girl took her place on the platform. You skipped down the two steps and went straight to the object of your desire.

With swaying hips, you walked over to him, dismissing any requests coming from the male audience on your way, and when you reached Simon you knelt down in front of him and braced yourself with your hands on his knees.

"Hey, Simon." You smiled sweetly up to him, a total contrast to the sexy and sinful outfit you were wearing.

He looked down at you, his eyes burning into yours with a blank expression.

"(Y/N)." He deadpanned.

"Enjoyed the show?" You asked and cocked your head to the side, not bothered in the slightest by his tone.

You were used to it.

"I did." He said, his voice still monotone. "It was good... as usual."

"Why thank you." You beamed up at him as if he just gave you the greatest compliment a human being could ever give to another.

Simon remained motionless for a moment before he reached for his wallet in his pocket and took a few bills out of it, telling you bluntly, "Your usual amount."

"Thank you, but you can give it to me later." You replied and softly kissed his jeans-clad knee before looking back up at him, your hand stroking over his thigh.

He watched you for a second before putting the money and wallet away. "Is our room free?"

You nodded and straightened up, your hand outstretched for him to take. His hand engulfed yours not even a second later and he let you guide him the well-known route to the private rooms, passing other girls and customers.

When you reached the room, you closed the door behind you, the noises from the busy crowd dying down in an instant. Now it was only you both in your familiar bubble where nothing mattered except the two of you.

You turned around and already saw him staring at you. You immediately noticed the change in his body language, his eyes carrying a look that made your next question superfluous.

"The usual... or special treatment?"

"Special treatment." He answered, his voice not devoid of any emotion anymore.

Now that it was only you and him in a closed, sound-proof room, he didn't consider it necessary anymore to hide how he truly felt — tired, stressed out, drained.

The special treatment.

It was something that had developed from an incident where you accidentally triggered a panic attack. You had held him in your arms while Simon practically exploded with years of pent-up grief, disappointment, anger, loneliness and pain.

When he had calmed down, it was like a switch had been flipped and he left the private room with a cold, distant look in his eyes.

The following days hurt like hell as you had no idea where Simon was and how he was doing.

When he had returned to you four months later, your happiness and relief were short-lived as he snatched you away and dragged you to the private rooms.

You ended up on the couch with Simon's head in your lap as you softly ran your fingers through his hair, humming a soft melody.

That's how you two had spent your previous times when he had requested special treatment; sometimes with his head in your lap, sometimes cuddled to one another on the couch, sometimes with you sitting on his lap.

And as always, him asking you for special treatment broke your heart. It happened on rare occasions, but knowing he was in pain hurt you nonetheless.

Your expression turned from playful to worried in mere seconds as you stared up at the man whose usual cold walls around him started cracking.

Simon remained silent momentarily before he sighed, his head down-turned, shaking it.

The words left his lips slowly, in a mumble. "It was bad, (Y/N)."

"My poor thing." You cooed before you took one of his hands, the skin rough and callused, to plant feather-light kisses on his knuckles.

Simon's eyes softened slightly as he watched you. It was a feeling he didn't experience often anymore. His free hand reached up to your head to stroke a strand of hair out of your face.

"Come on." You lead him by his hand to the black leather couch standing at the wall to your right.

He let you push him down on the couch, his eyes seeming to be filled with a glimmer as he glanced up at you and waited for you to do your magic on him.

"You know the drill, baby." You softly said, nodding to his black hoodie.

Like a routine he grabbed his hoodie and pulled it over his head, slowly revealing his well-defined chest and abs, the familiar sight of his scarred body on full display.

You were already out of your heels, kicking them to the side, before you reached behind you to open the black bra.

Meanwhile, Simon sat back and let his eyes follow each and every of your movements, waiting for you to show him something only he got to see.

After loosening the straps connecting it to the thin lace belt holding up your panties, you drop the bra next to your feet before you straddled his lap.

Instead of sitting down on his thighs, you stayed up on your knees, wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him against your chest. Simon followed your example and embraced you with his arms, his muscles twitching against your skin.

With no clothes in both of your ways, you could feel each other’s warmth. Simon listened to your calming heartbeat. The feeling of your body against his, of your smooth bare skin against his, brought him a comforting calmness, almost like he was finally safe from the dangers of the outside world.

With his head nuzzling into your chest and his strong, big arms around your waist, you put one arm around his neck while the fingers of your other hand ran through his hair.

Simon's breathing slowed down as his muscles loosened up and relaxed, his eyes closing with a barely audible sigh. The comforting and intimate feeling was slowly easing his stress and worries.

Then you started your rant, "You are so good, Simon. You are so strong and brave. I'm so proud of you."

His eyes remained closed as he listened intently, taking in each and every of your words, storing them away into a special place of his brain and heart.

"You are so special, Simon. So, so special. You are such a wonderful and great man. You are always doing your best and I'm so, so proud of you."

Tears started to well up into his eyes and instead of forcing them back like he did in your earlier sessions, he just let them flow. He clung to you for comfort as sobs raked his body and he pressed his face deeper into your chest, as much as he could, as if you were his only escape from reality.

"You are so important, baby, especially to me. You are my special boy."

You ran your fingers once again through his blonde hair.

When the room was filled with nothing but his own shaky breath, Simon began to open his eyes. He looked up at you, his eyes teary and his cheeks wet.

"I don't deserve you..." He muttered his voice cracking.

You cupped his cheeks. "You do deserve me, Simon. You deserve the world."

More tears trickled down his face as he rested the side of his head back on the spot where he could feel your heart beating.

"This world is cruel... I am cruel." He breathed, "I am not a good person."

Shushing him, you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him closer to you, softly rocking yourself and him side to side.

"No, Simon, you are good. You are so good, so brave, so strong. I wish you could see that."

Simon didn’t reply to that, but his tears continued to trickle down.

"I love you so much, Simon." You then told him, just like every other time.

You would comfort him in every way possibly, with words and embraces, when he needed the special treatment. You would tell him what he needed and wanted to hear, even it was just to comfort him.

But loving him? That was what you needed and wanted to tell him.

He finally raised his head and looked up to you.

"I love you too." He replied quietly.

A lie, you were sure of it and didn't want to let yourself hope, because there was no way a man like Simon Riley could ever love a woman like you.

You were only a stripper and he would use your service. It was a special one and only reserved for him, yes, but he still paid you.

You cupped his cheeks anyway and smiled down to him.

You could see the shift in his eyes, his expression turning back to the cold, closed-off one he always wore. His emotions had settled down again and he pulled himself away from you.

"How much do I owe you tonight?" He asked, his voice back to his usual blunt, monotone tone.

You absolutely hated when this happened.

"Like always." You answered, wiping the remaining tears off his cheek with your thumb.

Simon nodded and grabbed you by your waist to lift you from his lap and onto your feet. He was slightly unsteady when he stood up and pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Of course it was only temporary for him to show you this much emotion, to be so vulnerable in front of another person, but you still felt the disappointed twinge in your heart.

You grabbed your bra from the floor and put it back on before you grabbed Simon's hoodie from the couch and handed it over to him.

While he put his hoodie back on, you stared at the amount of money he had pushed into your hand.

"Simon, baby... that's too much."

"It's for your performance, the session and a bonus." He shrugged, "You deserve it."

He turned away from you and made his way to the door.

"I will see you next time." He said before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

You stood there, 800£ in your hand.

"I didn't do it for the money." You whispered into the empty room.

A light breeze had filled the room when Simon had swiftly closed the door, leaving a ghostly touch on your body, causing goosebumps to grow on your skin.

You left the private room after you composed yourself and soothed your hurting heart.

If the walls of the room could talk, they would tell the story of the lonely stripper who fell in love with the cold and ruthless soldier, an unrequited feeling he would never reciprocate, a hopeless romance that could never be.

If you only knew how wrong you were...