#its like a whole thing about not looking past someones bad parts but seeing their entire whole as good including the bad parts

[fiendishartist2]

theres smth so romantic about the lackey. let me wait on you hand and foot because i want to see you succeed, because i believe in your cause and your ability to reach your goals, even if we fail every single time. you dont have to give me anything, being around you is reward enough. it doesnt matter if youre a good person or if you have good intentions, in my eyes youre everything the world needs. let me beat that guy up for you sir

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[transzilla]

How To Suck Roid Clit and Tdick Like A 6Gal Bauer ShopVac

So I'm a trans man and I fucking love trans men and they love fucking me. I minored in t4t gay sex in college and giving head has always came very naturally to me as a specialty, administering orgasms has never been an issue but a lot of people have difficulty figuring tdick out after going on testosterone or figuring themselves out and don't know how to get dudes to pop off which is tragic to me. Plus we don't really have like... sex ed about how to do that so it's not like you can pick up a book. But that's what you have me for. If you suck at giving head I'm gonna teach you how to suck the rest of someone's life away.

So everyone is different, growth might look different on different people and sometimes you'll have somebody who has difficulty popping off just cause of weird nerve endings, obviously listen to what your partner tells you and what works for them because they're going to know better. I've been around with a lot of different men and this is just what's worked for me, if you try it and its TERRIBLE then don't think you're broken or whatever, our willies are just as diverse as we are :)

Generally though tdick kind of resembles a tiny penis especially when you've been on T for a long time. Personally I've been on T for five years and have a 2 inch monster and you can kind of see where the head would be vs the foreskin or whatever. Like my favorite analogy is that it looks like a .45 caliber bullet because that's what my dick looks like when I'm looking down, lol.

Like the cap on the bullet would be the "head" and the cartridge casing is the length of the thing. Like on a guy's dick idk if anybody is getting tdick circumcized so when he's soft the skin will come up and guard the head/clit part because it's sensitive, you're going to want to find the head and kind of gently push past the skin with your tongue or your finger. Like get it on the head because largely that's the most sensitive part of his dick. when it gets bigger it kind of gets less sensitive, and you can't just rub the whole thing like on a clit off testosterone, uniform pressure might not always work. So keep your finger on the pulse, lol.

The simplest motion tht you can do, like a good part to lick on is right where the head meets the rest of his dick. There's almost a seam, kind of like on that bullet. Just rub in little circles with your tongue. Start gentle, gauge his reaction, and then go a little harder or a little faster. Also stay in one place once you get into a groove, the more you rub on one spot the more sensitive and the better it will feel.

On the very APEX tip of his dick is where most of the nerves are bundled it's going to be the most sensitive, so if you want to make him jump or if he's not very sensitive rub there, lol.

Also, once you get that down, you can suck too! You want to make a seal with your lips around his dick, almost like you're pulling on a cigarette, or like you're sucking your lips on a peach to keep the juices from falling out. This intensifies it if his dick is not sensitive and keeps it in one place if he has a big dick.

If he likes penetration fingering him at the same time is not a bad idea either.

Also, mind the teeth, lol.

[feyburner]

This is part of a longer thing I may post on ao3 at some point but here’s some silly little Jaytim texting AU. I use this format as a writing warmup.

EDIT: This has been posted on AO3.

[Unknown] »

Hey. This is Jason. 

I have a favor to ask. You can say no.

« tim

uh

1. i’m aware of how favors work  

2. what is it?

« tim

?

« tim

hey are you like. good

J »

Yeah fine 

Sry. Rethinking this maybe

« tim

what, do you need a kidney or something?

i can’t give you a kidney.

i don’t have any organs to spare.

J »

What ? 

« tim

what’s the favor?

J »

I wouldn’t ask if it wasnt important

I’d ask Roy but hes in star city 

or Kori but shes off world

I tried dickhead but hes in haven. Cant get away tonight

« tim

yeah jason i get it lol

J »

So Im currently in the cargo hold of a private yacht

« tim

what >?

J »

We’re caught in the storm thats hitting the city its a whole thing. 

« tim

are you in the cargo hold of your own volition or did someone put you there

J »

So I dont think I can get back t

No its on purpose

« tim

hang on. you’re in gotham bay right now? in a boat?  

jason this storm is really bad.

it’s already sunk a houseboat and a fishing boat at the marina

J »

I dont think I can get back totown toni

Christ you type fast 

Shut up for a sec. Clam down

Clam*

*Calm fuck me

Thought I was gnna be back tonight but bc of storm its not looking great.

Can you feed my sourdough starter 

« tim

what

J »

4511 overhill apt 6D 

Key under the neighbors mat. 6H

« tim

hey to clarify. “its not looking great” ← what does that mean

J »

Starter is on counter. in glass jar 

Should just need one feeindg. Maybe 2. depending 

« tim

on???

J »

On wwhen I get back?

« tim

so you do plan on coming back

J »

Yeah timothy I’m in a boat not the heart of Mount Doom

« tim

yeah? vaders not there? so that means everything’s fine? 

J »

Did you

jst say Vader

As in Darth

« tim

??? 

J »

Oh my god

« tim

jason are you in peril or what.

J »

No im not in “peril” lol.

Did you see the thing I said about my sourddough starter

It needs to be fed

« tim

wtf is a sourdough starter

nvm i googled it

J »

Its a live bacteria colony you use to m 

Oh ok

Yeah so it just needs 50g lukewarm water + 50g flour

Theres a scale next to the jar

Stir until it looks like hummus

Put lid back on

The end

« tim

the internet says if you put it in the fridge it doesn’t need daily feedings

J »

Sure. But that would mess up my bread schedule

« tim

your bread schedule 

J »

Man are gyou gonna fuckin feed Breadie Mercury or should I find someone else

« tim

im already en route. 

J »

Oh

Ok

Thank you.

Wtf dont text and motorbike  

« tim

how about you dont text and Sinking Boat

J »

Hey its not like I’m gonna cause a boat crash

« tim

i was stopped at a red light 😐

anwyay i’m at your place.

1. why do you not have a security system. when you said key under the neighbor’s mat i thought you were joking. 

2. how warm is lukewarm

J »

1. I’m the security system

« tim

just rolled my eyes so hard it actually physically hurt

J »

God youre annoying

2. ? Its lukewarm

« tim

ohhhhh thanks! that’s so helpful :) here i am trying not to murder your incredibly important bacteria colony that i just drove across town for but no thats great jason very descriptive thanks :) 

J »

Like warm but not too wram, nothing you’d want to take a bath in

Can you fucking

I TYPE SLOW.

« tim

ok.

[Image Attached]

he is fed

J »

Thanks man.

Sincerely.

« tim

so hows the cargo hold going

still intact i assume? 

J »

Mostly ya

« tim

pardon? 

J »

Slight leakage. Nothing major

« tim

oh? are you a boatologist now? 

i dont think you’re qualified to judge that?

J »

Moving right past “boatologist” out of the goodness of my heart.

Chill lol. If it was rly bad thered probably be some sort of alar

Hm.

« tim

did an alarm just start going off

J »

Dont worry about it

« tim

im not. 

did it though

also which yacht? im in the marinas scheduling dtabase

blue miracle, serendipity, carp-e diem? which one

« tim

jason?

« tim

if this is a joke it’s not funny

oh cool you’re not on comms either. great.

hey if youre dead again and i just fed your stupid starter for nothing im gonna be soooo mad just fyi

« tim

ugh.

*

J »

Hey

Thanks again for the

I’m not gonna say “save” bc I was doinf just fine on my own.

But thanks for the backup.

Lmk when youre home

Nope sorry lol you dont have to do that.

Night.

« tim

home

J »

Also I just saw your messaages from

Ah. 👍

From earlier. 

« tim

you mean from when you said “huh, this boat seems to be filling with water” and then disappeared? those messages? 

J »

Those were not my exact words.

« tim

right. your exact words contained somehow even less information 

J »

Shut up

I just wanted to 

You know. Youre the only one who jokes about it

The only one in the family I mean

your family, I mean

The bats.

« tim

? 

the only one who jokes about what

J »

Me being dead

« tim

oh. 

ok. well

its not like. actually funny to me. i was just annoyed. sorry i guess

J »

No thats not 

Tim. Shut up.

I dont mind. I like that one of you does. 

Its better than people talking around it. Like its this big shameful thing I did.

One of many

If I mention it in front of dickhead he does the face

the :~{ face

« tim

wow its uncanny

uh. for the record. 

i don’t think that’s the reason people talk around it

if im correct in thinking that by “people” you mean “one specific person whose name rhymes with Rat Can” 

 

J »

Yeah well

I just

Christ never mind. Im sorry. You are not the person to be sayign this to.

Im gonna shut the fuck up I think. 

Goodnight.

« tim

oh what, you can’t talk to me about being dead bc of that one time you tried to kill me? 

and failed btw :/ 

J »

Tim

Not to be so unchill

But you know how me being dead isnt actaully funny to you

« tim

…got it. sorry

J »

No. don’t apologize to me

Ever

I’m serious 

« tim

like for anything? 

what if i killed breadie mercury 

J »

You didnt. He is thriving

« tim

he is?

wait. really?

you can tell?

J »

[Image Attached]

Hes doubled in size since you fed him.

« tim

whoa

J »

Yup. Thanks again for thattoo.

*that too

Its stupid but hes kinda my son.

« tim

wouldn’t he technically be like, 10 billion sons

J »

He is my 10 billion sons.

« tim

lolol

wow. why am i so pleased hes thriving lol 

J »

Right

« tim

jeez

i was so worried about the water temp

google said lukewarm is 98-105 so i did 98 to be safe

J »

You used a thermometer? 

« tim

your instructions were vague!

i didnt want to kill your bacteria colony!

J »

Thanks Tim.

« tim

? you already said that lol

i gotta pass out btw

glad you didnt die: the sequel in a yacht

that would have been so cringe

night jason

J »

Night

*

J »

You up?

« tim

obviously

why

J »

Could use your eyes on something.

[Image Attached]

« tim

morse code but the dots and dashes are reversed and its spelling backwards in russian, ASTITP AYALEB AVD RTSIRP → PRISTR DVA BELAYA PTITSA → PIER TWO WHITE BIRD

J »

Bc it looks like morse but its not, its kind of scrambl 

Ok jesus christ . 

30 seconds? Seriously? Fuck me

Can I hire you? Jesus lol

« tim

that depends. do you pay more than batman?

J »

The fuck? Does he pay you guys now?

« tim

no.

J »

Then yes. I do pay more than batman.

« tim

how much more

J »

One coffee per codebreak? 

« tim

:\

J »

Two coffees per codebreak

Two and a loaf of sourdough

« tim

sourdough from breadie mercury?

J »

Ya

« tim

done

J »

Damn. I feel like you should have higher standards

« tim

i mean i was already gonna do it for free

now i have successfully negotiated coffee & sustenance 

im on a roll. nothing but Ws 

J »

Ws?

« tim

its young people slang you wouldn’t get it ❤️

J »

I am barely 3 years older htan you.

It could be argued, considering certain events, that we’re basically the same age.

« tim

and yet you text like an old, old man

J »

I do not

Would you rather I texted like “idk brb lmao roflcopter”

« tim

ROFLCOPTER?

oh my god. ohhhhhh jason. oh my god

that is absolutely not what the kids are saying these days. oh my god

J »

Ok you know what. At least I know Mount Doom isnt a Star Wars thing

« tim

? 

oh, is it star trek? 

J »

I’m 99% sure youre antagonizing me on purpose

But have you seriously not read or watched Lord of the Rings

« tim

no i have not.

J »

Hm.

« tim

what

J »

Nothing.

« tim

……….what

*

« tim

did you NARC on me

to BRUCE

about LORD OF THE RINGS?????

J »

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

« tim

WHY DO I NOW HAVE 3 SEPARATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON “HOUSE MEETINGS” BLOCKED OFF IN MY CALENDAR, JASON? 

WHY ARE THEY EACH 4 HOURS LONG?

WHY ARE THEY LABELED “CULTURAL EDUCATION (MANDATORY)”? 

J »

I can’t pretend to know what goes on in B’s mind.

That said, I have reason to believe he and Alfred take lotr pretty seriously.

« tim

its a TWELVE HOUR MOVIE

about GOBLINS

J »

I’m not gonna respond to that bc I know youre just lashing out.

« tim

if youve sentenced me to 12 hours of a movie i hate i’m gonna hack everything you own. 

im gonna mass text the entire cape wearers community the footage of that time condiment king kicked your ass so bad he felt guilty and offered to personally help you out of the mustard pool 

J »

What the fuck

How do you fuckig know about ?????? that???????? 

Not that ithahpened 

What hefuckk ??

« tim

ooooooooo you better hope i love these goblins!

J »

Why are you?? evil??

« tim

you should have killed me when you had the chance!!

sorry.

J »

Its ok. That one was pretty funny tbh.

Oh hm shouldnt have laughed just then. Bad timing on my part

Brb

« tim

uh

« tim

ok…….. getting reports of a “disturbance” at pier two…….. 

« tim

sorry were you texting me *mid-standoff* with the russian mafia

« tim

ugh.

*

« tim

you know tracking your location would be so much easier if i didn’t have to hack into your comm sys every time

luckily your encryption is garbage but still. its 2 minutes of my life i wont get back.

J »

Not sure I recall giving you permission to track my location?

« tim

oh i’m sorry. next time i will simply leave you to go down with a texas oil magnate’s incredibly tacky yacht, or get swiss cheesified by mobsters 

J »

Hey I wrapped up the russians myself 

« tim

yeah? 

J »

…

Yeah….

« tim

so you thought the 12-minute universal signal jam was the act of a benevolent god? 

J »

:-|

« tim

im just saying it would be significantly more efficient if you agreed to a tracker

just one little tracker. you wouldn’t even notice it’s there.

think of all the time and energy you’d save me

J »

I feel the need to point out that you don’t have to repeatedly hack my comms system.

« tim

i mean it’s that or monitor sightings on the gocitizen app

i have an algo that texts relevant pings to me, which is super helpful for when i want an inbox full of random people talking about how hot you are. less helpful for literally every other circumstance 

J »

Uh

What

« tim

how hot *red hood is. to clarify

in their opinion

the people’s opinion

J »

?

« tim

the people of gotham city

J »

The people of Gotham city do not think Red Hood is hot lol

« tim

wait 

i cant tell if you’re being serious

J »

Uh? Yeah Im being serious? Lol tf

Why would they think hes hot 

They dont think Batman is hot 

« tim

o…kay…

huh.

how to… hmm

J »

Like nightwing sure

And the girls. Bc of objectification of women

« tim

oh wow

J »

Red Robin. If i had to guess

But when people see Hood its definitely not… that kind of response lol

« tim

what kind of response, exactly

J »

You know like saying “Hey Hood youre hot” 

« tim

oh, wow. 

okay. ummm

hmm. one sec.

J »

?

« tim

check your email 

J »

Ok…? 

J »

Oh my fucking god.

« tim

yeah

J »

Oh my god?

« tim

yeah

J »

This document is fucking 45 pages long?

« tim

its everything from the past 30 days yeah

J »

The past

Whaht the fuck

Ok some of these people definitely got hit by Poison Ivy.

This is . Tim wtf. I havent even heard of some of this stuff. 

« tim

oof are you on page 14

J »

Im on page 3???

« tim

oh my god

J »

What the fuck

Please please tell me its not like this for Batman too

Tim

« tim

its not like this for batman :)

J »

Ok. Jesus. I would genuinely have to move cities.

« tim

its worse :)

J »

Oh what the fuck

Oh my fucking god page 14.

You get this shit TEXTED to you?????

Ohm ygod. You read this?????

« tim

i mean

no

i glance at it

for security purposes.

i dont like, read it read it

anyway did you seriously not know? haha

J »

No??? Again its not like people tell me

« tim

yeah but

like

theres a certain level of objectivity involved, here

yknow

sorry im trying to find a non awkward way to be like “have you looked in a mirror lately” 

« tim

sorry

that was in fact awkward!

nvm

just let me know if you’d be ok with the tracker. its fine if not

i was mostly joking about the hacking

J (From Work) »

No you weren’t.

« tim

no i wasnt

i dont mind though. its like a brain teaser

anyway im going dark for patrol, later

*

J (From Work) »

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

[Screenshot Attached]

Question. why is the average Gotham citizen a raging horndog 

« tim

oh my god

you know i can tell you searched “red robin hot” right

J (From Work) »

Figured it was only fair

[Screenshot Attached]

This persons got some mad zoom lens skills

I’d think it was you, if it wasnt, yknow, you

« tim

wow. that is certainly a photo of my ass

…a stellar photo of my ass. wow. 

do you have a direct link? i gotta send this to steph

J (From Work) »

goctz.app/user/3824973/post/29348230df3

Haha

I kinda thought you and blondie broke up

back on again?

« tim

no lol we are very much just friends

she has a thing going with someone who shall remain nameless but suffice to say it’s Going

anyway we just send each other gocitizen vigilante ass shots 

its a whole genre

they’re like trading cards

J (From Work) »

Guess everyone’s got a hobby?

« tim

the only rule is no nightwing

J (From Work) »

Do I want to know why

« tim

he accounts for a frankly overwhelming percentage of vigilante ass shots

so its too easy

you’d THINK we’d have a no-batman rule, because ew, but due to the cape and his sixth sense for cameras pointed at him, a qualifying shot is actually extremely rare. 

← only guy who ever managed to take quality photos of batman 

anyway, we put it to a vote. i lost.

J (From Work) »

A vote between you and Steph? 

You lost a 50/50 vote?

« tim

i dont wanna talk about it.

J (From Work) »

Right. 

So what I’m getting from this is you have Red Hood ass shots in your phone.

« tim

no

J (From Work) »

No?

« tim

well

J (From Work) »

Yeah?

« tim

we don’t like, save them

that would be weird

we just notify each other. professionally, as colleagues 

and keep an ongoing points tally

thats all

so i do not currently have photos of your ass in my phone. thank you

J (From Work) »

How many points is my ass worth

« tim

i hate everything about this conversation

J (From Work) »

Its 100% your own fault, answer the question

« tim

if you must know. 

points are awarded based on a series of objective scoring criteria.

J (From Work) »

Uh huh. Like what

« tim

technical excellence

composition. lighting and color balance. 

dynamism 

J (From Work) »

Dynamism…

« tim

creativity

umm

emotional impact

and 

subject matter

J (From Work) »

I see.

« tim

ok i know it sounds bad

J (From Work) »

It sounds fucking hysterical Im near tears 

« tim

but if you think abou

oh

okay, well, great

J (From Work) »

I’ll let you know if I stumble on any more. 

Or is that cheating

« tim

its totally cheating

please do

J (From Work) »

You got it red. 👍

« tim

:)

[caelumlin]

.

[dixons-sunshine]

Through The Good Times And The Bad | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Of everything Daryl wanted to do with you, fighting certainly wasn't on that list. However, in every relationship, there was bound to be disagreements, but Daryl didn't know if you'd forgive him for what he had said. It took one night for him to realise that you weren't going anywhere.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Like one swear word, self deprecating thoughts.

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Here's this short fic to make up in advance for the few days that it's gonna take me to write the fic that won the poll. Not gonna reveal too much about it, but it's called "I Never Lived For The Applause". I'll let your minds run wild with that.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

Stupid. That's what Daryl Dixon thought of himself. What he'd been thinking of himself for a whole week at that point. Stupid for lashing out at you. Stupid for what he called you. Stupid for not approaching you for an entire week. Stupid for not falling to his knees and apologising, begging for your forgiveness.

Sleep eluded him completely that night. How could he let that happen? How could he ruin the one good thing in his life? You'd been there for him since you moved to the trailer park when you were both merely twelve years old. You were his best friend, now his girlfriend, and he'd seemingly messed it all up in a matter of minutes.

Looking back, Daryl knew that he had been in the wrong. You were simply trying to help him, to reassure him that he didn't need his brother's approval, and he'd lashed out at you. He'd said some nasty things that someone as sweet and caring as you didn't deserve, all because you told him that he didn't have to help Merle with some stupid drug deal. He had seemingly damaged your relationship, in the end only to tell Merle no anyway.

Daryl scoffed to himself and turned over, wincing at the friction it caused on his freshly wounded side. His father had been relentless the past few days, bestowing beatings on him whenever he laid his eyes on his youngest son. Daryl had grown accustomed to sneaking out to your trailer when things got too bad to handle on his own, but now he didn't know if he was allowed to. He didn't know if you'd tell him to go to hell, and he wouldn't have blamed you if you did. You had every reason to hate him.

Frustrated by the inability to fall asleep, Daryl sat up in his bed. His body screamed in protest at his movements, the beating from only a few hours prior taking its painful root in his body. Trying to ignore the pain, he reached into his nightstand to grab a few painkillers you'd bought for him to help him when you couldn't. However, as his hands fell upon the bottle, his eyes caught sight of a Polaroid picture. It was a picture you had taken of the two of you a month prior. The picture was ridiculous; you had somehow convinced him to wear a facemask with you and had him pose with you for a photo. Despite the fact that he was against the idea initially, it definitely was one of his favourite memories with you. He loved you, and he didn't ever want to lose you.

Before the thought could fully register in his mind, Daryl was climbing out of his window and sneaking away from his trailer towards yours. He didn't know if you were still awake or if you'd even want to see him, but he needed to see you. He needed to apologise to you, even if you hated him. At least he would have gotten it off his chest.

In a matter of moments, he was standing outside your window. He hesitated for a moment, flashes of your argument a week prior flooding his mind. However, he shook the thoughts from his head and knocked on your window. Almost immediately, your lamp flickered on and your footsteps could be heard approaching the window.

Your window opened and without hesitation or demanding an explanation, you extended a hand to Daryl to help him climb in to your room. Once inside, he turned to you, ready to apologise, but you cut him off by bringing him into a comforting hug. You nuzzled your face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh. Daryl was caught off guard for a moment, but he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin there.

A minute of silence passed between the two of you. You simply stood there in each other's arms, basking in the comfort the hug brought the both of you. However, Daryl soon broke the silence, guilt and regret gnawing at his insides.

“M'sorry fer wha' I said. Fer lashin' out at ya,” he mumbled into your hair, closing his eyes when he felt you press a kiss against his clothed chest. “Please know tha' I didn't mean tha'. Not a single thing. Yer perfect to me.”

“It's okay,” you reassured him, pulling back slightly to gaze into the beautiful blues of his eyes. “You were just mad at your brother. I don't blame you at all.”

Daryl shook his head. “Ya should. I never shoulda said tha' in the first place. I wouldn't blame ya if ya hated me.”

“Daryl Dixon, you listen to me right now,” you started sternly, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “One little fight isn't going to scare me off. When I agreed to be your girlfriend, I didn't just sign up for the good times. I'll be here through the bad times as well. Nothing will ever change that. You're gonna have to do more than cuss me out for me to run for the hills.”

Daryl stared into your eyes for a moment, a small smile gracing his features. He nodded slowly, subconsciously leaning into your soft touch. “I love ya,” he whispered.

You smiled up at him before giving him a small kiss. When you pulled back, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb. “I love you too, you hard ass. Through thick and thin,” you assured him, before grabbing his hand and leading him over to your bed. “Now sit down while I go grab the first aid kit. By the way, you're staying over tonight. I'm not letting you go now.”

Daryl didn't mind the sound of that at all. In no time at all, you had cleaned his wounds, turned of the light and ushered him into bed. You had brought his head down to rest on your chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You played with his hair, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, lulling him into sleep.

And for the first time that week, Daryl fell asleep without being plagued by nightmares of losing you.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[chrollogy]

SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #01

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

next | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to try out the university confessions page as an anonymous submitter to write a vague paragraph about your feelings for Iwaizumi—oddly enough, students following the page seems to be hooked in your confession.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff, oikawa appearance :3, reader is helplessly in love with mr iwaizumi hajime, not beta read.

word count: 2.3k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. sorry this came a bit late >< i fell asleep LMAOOOOOO

Falling in love has always been a weird concept. One day you wake up, and feel completely different towards a certain someone who you swear you only love platonically; your heart starts to race faster whenever you’re in their presence, mind formulating a million different thoughts on how to act normally until it loses its meaning, suddenly becoming overly self conscious of one’s appearance, and always wanting to look your very best whenever they’re around—the whole package.

Unfortunately, you were all too familiar with this.

As though in a romance movie, the whole world slowed down as your eyes landed on the person before you, anything, and everything faded into nothing—a mere whitenoise behind the rapid pounding of your heart.

Iwaizumi’s hair gleamed beneath the sun’s afternoon rays, long lashes ghosted over the apple of his cheeks, rosy lips slightly puckered in concentration. You remembered it like yesterday—the strong aroma of roasted coffee beans, the light chatter of other customers in the café, the warm blanket of sunshine, the heart-stopping eye contact.

Iwaizumi called your name a total of three times until you finally broke free from your trance; everything flooded back the moment your name slipped past his parted lips for the third time—as though suddenly reeled from a freeze frame.

You remembered blinking at him, letting a heartbeat or two pass before asking him what he needed, though, Iwaizumi’s words entered one ear, and left the other; you were more focused on the way his plush lips moved with every word spoken, mind wondering what it’d feel like against your own.

That night, you tossed, and turned beneath your ivory blanket; mind a complete mess, and heart an even bigger mess. You just didn’t get why you had to catch feelings for Iwaizumi out of all people.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, never but everything between the two of you has been strictly platonic ever since—hell, you both even had a fair share of past relationships; you felt indifferent when Iwaizumi introduced his first girlfriend to you but now, just the thought introducing another woman made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

Realising that bottling up these feelings was a foolish thing to do, you scoured your mind for anything, and everything just to find some kind of release from all these unsaid thoughts. You were close to giving up, and retire for the night until a random thought popped into your mind,

Seijoh University Anonymous Confessions.

The unofficial page was undoubtedly popular amongst the students of the university, it served as a freedom wall where one was given the ability to express anything, and everything to fellow students behind anonymity; ranging from harmless rants about the meal prices all the way to heartfelt messages, you name it.

Submitting a confession was easy, all one had to do was fill up an anonymous form linked on the page, and wait ‘til moderators post it for everyone else to see.

You’ve always just been an avid reader of the confessions, a mere pastime in between lectures, and study breaks. It was interesting to see other students’ perspective, and thoughts in the campus you all shared, serving you a reminder that despite being in the same environment, everyone experienced things very differently.

Though, the only constant factor in everyone’s university lives was the confession page, even yours.

Despite the page ensuring full anonymity, it was still nerve-wracking to turn your feelings into words, your thumbs shook as you typed each letter into the anonymous form. You knew Iwaizumi would eventually see this confession despite only reading from the page from time to time, you just hoped it was vague enough for him to not notice—he was smart, and usually pieced clues together like it was nothing.

Surely out of all these students submitting confessions to this page everyday, Iwaizumi wouldn’t know, right?

The next few days consisted of refreshing said page, and waiting for your confession to pop up. “You’ve picked up your phone at least ten times in the past two minutes, what’s so interesting?” Oikawa’s dulcet voice pulled you into reality, your torso unceremoniously jerked away to shield your phone as he attempted to take a peek at the device in your hand.

The former narrowed his eyes at you but before he could throw a sly remark your way, Iwaizumi let out an annoyed sigh which gained yours, and Oikawa’s attention.

“Oikawa, if you’re bored, go bother someone outside the study room.”

The brunette playfully rolled his eyes before standing up to stretch, a small yawn slipping past his rosy lips. “Alright, I’m going to get some snacks. Anyone want any?” He grabbed his phone off the table before shifting his gaze between you, and Iwaizumi who only shook his head in silence, completely preoccupied with an assignment.

“Can I come?” “No, go scroll on your phone.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out, not letting you protest before leaving the study room. The sound of the door clicking echoed throughout the walls of the study room, a deafening silence engulfed you, and Iwaizumi; for you, the silence was awkward, for him, it was completely normal.

If your heart were to pound any louder against your chest, you were sure he would’ve heard.

You randomly flipped through the pages of your textbook, trying to make yourself look busy. God, you couldn’t get more awkward than this. A flurry of overly self-conscious thoughts flooded your mind—would he think I’m weird for flipping too many pages? Fuck, am I reading this paragaph too fast? Is my posture okay? Oh god, I haven’t looked at a mirror all day, do I look fine? Is my hair messy?

Small, sharp prickles kissed down your body as heat engulfed you out of nowhere, cheeks warmed, and palms sweaty. You let out a sigh, nails digging into the skin of your nape, attempting to relieve the annoying itch.

“You okay? You seem very stressed lately.” Iwaizumi pushed his laptop screen halfway down to get a better view of you, he was slouched far into his seat, arms propped on either side of his laptop. His gaze met your own, deep emerald eyes boring into your very core. With a racing heart, you turned your mind upside down for an answer,

“Yeah . . I’m fine. Just tired is all.” Mentally cursing yourself, your nails harshly dug into the hearts of your palm—your voice came out small, and airy, not really convincing but whatever. If Iwaizumi caught your little white lie, he didn’t press on, instead returning a subtle dip of his chin before shifting his gaze back onto the laptop before him.

Sounds of soft keyboard tapping, and the low hum of the wall clock accompanied the deafening silence, you sat there twiddling your thumbs like a dumbass as if you weren’t supposed to be studying.

Iwaizumi wasn’t even doing anything yet here you were, warm faced, and as stiff as a board, if only he knew the effect he had on you. It was beyond embarrassing, really, how he was able to have this effect on you with little to no effort but then again, this was the Iwaizumi Hajime, of course it made sense.

For the first time in forever, you silently wished Oikawa came back as soon as possible—each second passed without a word spoken between you, and Iwaizumi, and you could really use the brunette right now to diffuse the growing awkwardness on your side.

As if the heavens answered your prayer, Oikawa came striding past the door, a bunch of snacks tucked neatly beneath his arm, and torso; you’ve never felt happier seeing him but you weren’t about to let anyone know. The brunette held his phone with his other hand, brown eyes concentrated on the device,

“Have you guys read the new confession? The page just posted it a couple of minutes ago.” He set the snacks on the table, and slid one your way before sitting down.

That’s right, just like you, Oikawa was also an avid reader of the university confessions page as though it was the morning newspaper. You couldn’t really blame him, the whole concept of it was interesting, plus, some confessions were rather strange but fascinating, nonetheless.

Iwaizumi wordlessly shook his head, not sparing a glance at his friend, you, on the other hand, felt a sudden wave of panic wash over your body. Did they finally post your confession? You squirmed in your seat, trying to act nonchalant, and completely normal about the situation at hand, “Mmm, no, not yet. Is it that interesting?”

Oikawa let out a low hum, an amused smile plastered on his face, with the way his gaze shifted back, and forth across the screen of his phone, he seemed to be reading the newest confession. The expression on Oikawa’s face did nothing to relax your nerves, he looked like he was enjoying every bit of the post—surely, you didn’t put much detail into it for anyone to piece it together or did you?

You expected the brunette to answer a simple yes or no along with a little explanation like he always did whenever he brought up the confessions page but apparently, he decided he’d read it out loud without you or Iwaizumi even asking.

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Here, I’ll read it out loud,” 

“Oh god. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to me but lately I’ve noticed that every time I see him, my heart starts racing. I can’t act normally around him anymore and he just looks so handsome whenever I see him. It’s hopeless, I know but some part of me wishes that my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t blame myself for falling in love because he’s such an amazing guy. He’s my everything, he knows that but he doesn’t know I don’t mean platonically. Sigh.”

As your friend read deeper into the paragraph, you slouched further into your seat, cheeks burning like the sun, and embarrassment engulfing your whole body. That was your confession. Fuck, you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole right then, and there.

Your eyes darted between Oikawa, and Iwaizumi, scanning their expressions—the former obviously had a smug smile on his face while the latter looked indifferent; the same old deadpan expression he’d worn since the start of your study session.

As if to make things worse for you, the brunette spoke up again, “It’s gaining quite the attention only because it's such a juicy confession, and students are trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend.” Oikawa chuckled, turning off his phone, and resting his palms behind his head.

What the fuck. How was your confession gaining more attention than the others? Last time you checked, yours was just a typical love confession, something all students have seen hundreds of times on the page, nothing special.

“W-what? Why? Why is it gaining attention?” Your tone came out more panicked than intended. Upon realising this, you awkwardly cleared your throat, and took a sip from your water bottle to help your nerves calm a tad bit before speaking up once again, “What’s so interesting about it, anyway?”

Oikawa shrugged, “Just a typical love confession but I’m not going to lie, it’s always interesting whenever someone has feelings for their best friend.”

Grabbing the snack Oikawa gave you earlier, you hastily opened the bag, and popped a chip in your mouth. Yeah, maybe eating something will calm your nerves.

This time, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to speak up, “Mhm. I’m guessing everyone’s just curious about it, maybe many can relate. It’s not easy being in love with your best friend.” He finally looked up from his laptop, dark emerald eyes shifting from Oikawa to you.

His gaze lingered a little too long for your liking which caused your brain to short circuit. Before you knew it, all you could do was listen to the sound of your yearning heart, fingers curling around the chip packet as your grip tightened.

You sucked in a breath, and averted your gaze from Iwaizumi, staring at the contents of your chip packet, “True . . I feel sorry for OP, especially since it's a long term friendship.” At least your voice didn’t come out shaky this time. Iwaizumi only nodded, he seemed to be in deep thought, whatever the reason was, you absolutely didn’t want to know.

Back in your dorm, you couldn’t help but check the comments under your confession, and as Oikawa stated earlier, majority of it were students tagging their friends on the post, and trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend. Some also gave sound advice about the situation which you appreciated, though, you didn’t know if you were really ready for a face to face confession with Iwaizumi.

Weirdly enough, the unexpected attention gave you a bit of confidence now that you were looking at it from another perspective. Earlier, it felt like a complete nightmare with how much other students were invested in your sad lovelife but now that you’ve calmed down, it was reassuring to see others give blind support, and words of encouragement.

Safe to say, there was still a hint of community between students despite everyone fighting their way through the semesters.

Plus, everyone seemed to await your next confession post, so who were you to deny them that? After all, you couldn’t really talk about it with anyone else, why not share it with the student population behind anonymity?

As expected, not only did your confession gain more traction within the next few days, but friends from classes you’re taking have also been talking about it. Though you couldn’t really comprehend what was so special about your submission, your feelings felt nothing but valid. Suddenly, it didn’t really feel like much of a crime being in love with your best friend—running away from your feelings was never an option but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t once cross your mind.

A million thoughts from students floated throughout the campus regarding the confession; ‘I wonder what their best friend is like?—he must be a really amazing guy.’ ‘I’m kind of curious as to what the person behind the confession is going to do next.’ ‘Heh, what if this confession is actually meant for me?’ ‘When will it be my turn?’

You’ve heard it all.

Despite everyone’s attention on the post, you just really wished that in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind, there was a pressing thought telling him the confession might be for him.

—

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tags: @stunie @akumakitsune21 @boosyboo9206 @khfviq @avis-writeshq @elliesndg @1929sleepdeprived @wakashudou @lillycore @viscoolreal @lialia3945 @softpia (drop a comment/ask if you wanna be tagged! make sure to turn your mentions on :3)

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @the-all-stars-network !

© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[sun4ki]

“So young and pretty, it’s too bad they passed”

- In my room _ By insane clown posse

Aeon of light!Gn Reader X various Hsr women hcs

Characters (Ruan Mei, Kafka, Robin, Himeko, Black Swan, Natasha)

Gn Reader being forgotten Aeon of Light, keeping their distance around any human life as they wandering peacefully around the universe. Having great and powerful strength, only to be degraded by other, stronger Aeons. They hid their identity but that would soon change as these women found Gn reader and took them in...

Warnings: slight ooc? MEN OR HOMOPHOBIC DNI

Author's note: first fic post like actually :p hope you like this! I'm open to criticism and improvement! Sorry for bad English, its not my first language and im dyslexic :(

Ruan mei

The scientist who found you wandering all alone in the secluded zone, the poor Aeon got lost and ended up in the Herta space Station..

Lucky for you, That was the day Ruan Mei visited. You explored the Secluded area, seeing a lot of these critters around.

feeling curious you picked up one of them, only to hear mechanical noises of a door being opened behind you. You turned around seeing the Scientist who created these critters herself. . .

“How interesting . . “ the scientist spoke to herself in a monotone manner

Eventually Ruan Mei soon took you in, doing some simple experiments for her study.

“Hold still , this would be less painful if you stop with the unnecessary movement .”

You could only sit and watch idly as the scientist takes some blood sample from you for her research on an extraordinary being like you

Kafka

Kafka found you during one of her missions, She took you in, saying how it was “destiny’s plan”, how both of you were destined to meet eventually. . .

Elio had already told her it was part of her “script” meeting with you and bringing you with. . .

The stellaron hunter knew you could be a great addition to their team— I mean just imagine a powerful yet forgotten Aeon of Light in the stellaron hunters team ?! Not to mention you would also be a great sparring partner

“You’re pretty strong Y’know ?

Great for me to test my skills on without you dying ~ “

Jokes aside Kafka is actually very gentle and caring about you, aware of the fact you don’t know a lot about how humanity lived (considering you kept your distance around them), she would teach you how to blend in and live a life like the rest . . .

Robin

By the time you got to Penacony, you were immediately drawn to this ethereal singing . . .

When you saw Robin for the first time, you were mesmerized by her beauty as she sang. . . Her looks reminded you one of an Angel, a beautiful one, you couldn’t take your eyes off her

The two of you became fast friends, Robin would guide you around Penacony, she was like your tour guide, showing you around the dreamscape.

Robin was actually very supportive about your whole Aeon of Light thing, and just like Kafka, she would often accompany you and teach the ways to live like the rest

her brother Sunday doesn’t actually approve of you though , he’s suspicious of you and Robin’s relationship but ether way Robin would ensure you he means good

“Don’t mind my brother . .

He’s just concerned about me . .”

Himeko

Himeko found you in one of express’s trailblazer missions right after they left penacony, Himeko took it upon herself to take care of you, aware of the fact you still felt unsure about the rest of the members

The navigator would often let you sleep in her cabin, accompanying you as you would always feel comfortable in her embrace . .

It’s not a surprise you would avoid any contact with the other members of the train. . Either way, when the others set out for another expedition, you would stay behind with Himeko, making sure Himeko is protected and safe at all costs . . .

Maybe because you’re close or maybe because she reminds you of a certain someone in The past you can’t quite identify. . (Doing this cuz i miss murata himeko)

“You’re clingy sometimes you know..?

Who knew the Aeon of Light could act like a clingy love sick puppy at times ?”

Black swan

When you enter penacony, you haven’t seen black swan just yet. . She would be keeping an eye on you from a distance before actually revealing who she is . . (She gives me stalker vibes idk)

She finds you intriguing . . She would observe how you behave for a few days or so and by the looks at it- you clearly don’t know how to act properly around others let alone socialize . .

That’s when the Memokeeper decided to step out of her “bird hide” enough with watching you like a delicate bird unaware of her keen eyes

“What’s an interesting being like you wandering all alone in this dreamscape ?”

Black swan would look into your memories aswell . . Witnessing your past . . Aswell as the memories of being degraded by other Aeons and being forced to live in the shadows of the universe to be left and forgotten. .

“What a poor birdie you are . .” The woman would whisper

“Don’t worry dear ~ I’ll make sure to take care of you ”

Natasha

As soon as you got to Belobog, you were immediately sent to the underground. . .

Let’s just say the guards gave you a not so “friendly” Welcome, which lead to fighting- a lot of fighting-

The fight eventually forced you to be sent to the underground

Natasha was the first to find you, you met her while she was doing some errands . . . Seeing that Natasha was actually kind and gentle with you, you stayed by her side, helping her in the clinic and with the kids

Eventually, Natasha introduced you to the other wildfire members, you started helping in the underground, being a big help in taking care of the people there, like the underground’s guardian.

you would help with the wildfire’s fights, often getting all bruised up since you force yourself to not use your full power.. but whenever you do, atleast you have your trusty doctor to patch you back up

“Just be careful next time okay sweetie?” She would often tell you

Little side note: i was actually supposed to add acheron and stelle lmfao but i got busy and keep forgetting to write their part haha, i will add them though if any of you want a part two. You can also recommend other characters to add ^^

[krirebr]

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever. Part of the Psycho Killer AU

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left. 

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

[mourningsbane]

Perhaps silly questions, but I'm growing more and more curious of your blog with each new entry/question answered. Love the story slowly unfolding here, cannot wait for the next part and following moons <3

Does Palekit have any further deformations? Or rather that question but in past tense. His tail looks almost fin-like, but I'm not sure if what we are seeing is a) a stylistic "drooping goo" effect, b) a very weird tuft of fur, or c) some malformation of the tail tip, resulting in its split structure.

What's the clan's relationship with Sweetkit, considering so many of its members', em... involvement in the perishing of Honeyspring and her kits. Mostly wondering if Flaildrizzle, Tanglefern and Rootstar feel anything (guilt, sadness, etc.) at all when they see this only kit in clan after a whole litter dies in such horrible circumstances before Sweetkit's arrival? I mean, surely such a tragedy leaves an impact. A followup question-

How much time has passed since Honeyspring's death and Sweetkit's arrival? Do any of LutumClan's cats consider Sweetkit to be like "a second chance" for the clan after losing their only queen and her litter?

A bit of an alternate outcome question! Let's assume Nothing Bad Ever Happened©️ to Honeyspring's kits. What would their warrior names be? What would their basic personalities be? Would any of them pursue high ranks within LutumClan?

Also sending fictional love to Honeyspring, stay goopy queen 💅

There's no such thing as a silly question! Besides, I like answering questions, even if it takes me a while to get to them! <3

My answers are a tad long, so I'll put them under the cut!

1.) Palekit did not have any further deformations! His face was slightly crooked, and his tongue sometimes hung out, but that was about it. He also had severe issues with vomiting; he just couldn't keep anything down and tended to bleed.

2.) Rootstar, Flaildrizzle, and Tanglefern all feel very guilty and upset by what happened to Honeyspring's kits! Still, they, and the rest of LutumClan, saw Sweetkit's arrival as a sign of hope. However, LutumClan as a whole tends to be a tad overprotective of the only kit in the clan.

3.) About 3-ish months have passed since Honeyspring's death! Sweetkit is definitely considered LutumClan's "second chance" of sorts, but a few cats (namely Rootstar and a few others) REALLY wish Sweetkit was in the care of someone who ISN'T Bearface. They're worried that Bearface, being a former outsider who barely respects the clan code as is, will be a bad influence on her.

4.) As for the alternate outcome, let me think! I'll give you my best guesses, but destiny is mutable, so these could've easily changed!

Smallkit would grow into Smallcloud, and would become an apprentice to Tanglefern! She would be on the smaller side, but she'd be a fierce creature for sure! She'd be smart and cautious, but never a push-over.

Flailkit would grow into Flailwhisker, and would likely go on the path of becoming a queen or mediator! She'd likely be about average height and a bit on the chunkier side. I imagine her to be quiet and shy, much like Flaildrizzle, and easy to talk over. Still, she cares greatly about her clanmates, even if she's easily overwhelmed. Smallcloud would've been very protective over her in their youth.

Palekit would grow into Paleclaw, and would most certainly follow the path of a warrior! He'd idolized his aunt, Rootstar, and wanted to become a leader just like her. He's prideful and a little boastful for sure, but not intentionally. He's just very proud of his aunt being the leader, and his mom (Flaildrizzle) being the deputy, and wants to make sure everyone knows it.

Had Honeyspring's kits lived, Sweetkit's role would have also changed, but I can't say it due to spoilers!

[sinning-23]

Twice the Fun (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

Because i need them both in a way that is concern to feminism and they could literally do whatever they wanted to me (respectfully) ahem. This ones for my sick, freak, nasty, touch-starved bitches It's really just prn with A LITTLE plot yall and a little more attention to detail.

18+ DUH?!

Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, choking, biting, scratching, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, spanking, double penetration (holy shit this is a lot even for me lol)

Hope yall enjoy (smut is a bit of a specialty of mine)

PART 2 HERE

Ps. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY SPELLING ERRORS!

What were you truly meant to do? Turn down the pair to try and make yourself look like less of a slut than you really were? Well, slut was kind of harsh. We'll say, more sexually inclined.

Yeah, that sounds classier.

Anyway, when Sanji and Zoro approached you in a more physical than verbal way, you couldn't decide whether or not you should say no to try and keep up an image they already saw past, or simply let them Eiffel Tower you. How the hell did you end up in this predicament in the first place???

___3 days ago___

You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you nudge the man beside you. You didn't quite care if he woke up or not, you'd just go to your other 'friends' room to fulfill your insatiable need for dick...and love and affection...but of course, Sanji didn't know that...and neither did Zoro and hell you'd like to keep it that way.

Perfectly balanced...sorta. Part of you feels bad though, you do love him...and Zoro too but damn it you just had to have them both. And with the way that two bicker and act like they can't stand each other, there was a fat chance you'd get your wish.

You nudge Sanji again, pressing soft kisses to his temple, and brushing his hair out of his face. He stirs, eyes slightly opening to reveal a set of lovely blues.

"Good morning. Pussy put you to sleep?" You tease, seeing him smile in recollection of the events of the night prior.

"Its not nice to tease." He groans, sitting up on his elbows and forearms to kiss your lips.

Its sweet, your heart stuttering with guilt. You know he loves you but this whole thing was supposed to be no strings attached. You pull away, noticing a brief hurt behind those eyes you just stared so lustfully into hours ago.

"Hurry up, youve got breakfast to make and I'm pretty sure someones getting a bit suspicious. You chuckle, pointing to the alarm clock.

He swears, shuffling a bit faster to find his briefs, dress pants, and shirt in a hurry. He doesnt forget to kis your temple before he leaves though.

"Come to my room again tonight, yeah?" He asks, and you nod. How could you not?

When you're sure he's long gone, you hide your face in your palms, groaning deeply before gazing into the mirror. Shit...he marked you up worse than before. You roll your eyes, that funny butterfly feeling filling up your stomach again. Damn him for making you love him. This wasn't the first time you'd have to cover up hickeys and it wouldn't be the last.

Your shoes echo down the hall a bit as you pass zoro's room now, curiosity getting the best of you. You crack the door open and there he is, pulling on that same old tan shirt over that damn gorgeous body.

"Good morning." You hum, slipping in and closing the door behind you.

He doesn't respond back, only nods in your direction. Zoro was more...blunt with these things. He thought he'd almost gotten perfect at hiding how he was feeling from you, but you had already clawed your way up and over the walls he put up. Essentially you could see right through him.

Before he can protest about you not knocking, you've got your arms around him in a hug, one he definitely needed seeing as he missed your touch far more than he would admit out loud. In his head, you were his girl. All his. He knew it wasn't true, this...whatever this was, being nothing more than a beneficial friendship. You weren't really his and it tore him up inside. He knows he loves you, but damn it if he admits it.

"Missed me? I see that look in your eyes Roro." You tease, knowing the nick name bothers him in th best way.

"I wish you would quit calling me that." He responds, letting his arms wrap around you to return the embrace, his chin resting atop your head. He needed you bad.

"Coming here tonight? Or do I have to drag you from your quarters to mine?" He smirks, making you laugh and bury your face in his chest. Gods he loved your laugh.

"How could I not?" You respond, swallowing a bit hard, knowing you were wrong for that.

Double booking a dick appointment was a big NO-NO. This leaves too much opportunity for one to find out about the other. But in hindsight, would that really be so bad? You wanted and loved them both, and being sneaky was starting to weigh on your conscience despite not being in an actual relationship with either of them.

"You alright?" He asks, cupping your face with his free hand. You drank up moments like these, it was truly a privilege to see the softer side of Zoro.

You nod, kissing him quick before making your leave.

The rest of the crew is already up and working on odds and ins of the ship. You managed your end of the chores, first mopping, then tying knots, and lastly laundry. You chatted with Nami, hoping a village is coming up soon but no luck.

Damn, the day had really gotten away from you. The sun was already setting and your heart sank to the pit of your goddamn stomach. It's sunset...which means night is right around the corner...

Oh fuck.

You scramble off the front deck and head straight to your quarters, skillfully dodging both Sanji and Zoro, who you had managed to have run into each other instead of you. Bad idea, because if you knew anything about Sanji, it's that he had a funny way of letting things slip rather sneakily. And if you knew anything about Zoro, its that he would easily catch a slick comment, and match it.

You lock your door, pacing back and forth in hopes of coming up with a plan. The truth? Yeah maybe tell the truth! You swallow your pride, taking a deep breath, only to head a kock at your door. Oh god. Your hands tremble, that sickly nervous feeling seeping into your pores. Its hot in here.

"Hey honey, um, how about we reschedule to tomorrow?" Sanji hums, something...off in his tone.

You pull the door open, that same facade over your face. You swallow, nodding at him in response.

"I see. I mean yeah we can. Something come up?" You ask, eyes shifting all over. You can bring yourself to keep direct contact with him and damn he can tell. You could've sworn that you saw someone turn the corner...was that Zoro. Nevermind that. Apparently, Sanji had said something to you but you hadn't heard it you were panicking so damn much.

"Uhh sure. You okay?" He questions, more smug than anything. He knows...

__2 days ago___

It was far too quiet for your liking. Sanji seemed to avoid you...and so did Zoro. Well, not really avoid you. In all honestly you were paranoid and reading into everything. You had FABULOUS intuition so when the energy was out of wack it went straight to your head.

They know. They have to. There's no way they don't. The two of them had gotten a lot bolder you noticed. It was all so clear to you. They were...competing almost. Zoro would leave his hand on your hip, and Sanji would roll his eyes. Sanji would pull your hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face when you were cleaning? Zoro would scoff and move on.

Okay, so they definitely knew. Now they were playing the "She likes me more game." That was the least of your concerns. If anything you were drinking up the attention. What you really wanted to know, was how they had found out about each other...the ship is small so that doesn't help the situation.

Today, you managed to find yourself in the kitchen while both your blonde and green-headed sneaky links were ALSO in the vicinity. You swallow hard, bidding them a good day whilst making your way to the fridge, which Sanji usually keeps locked up otherwise Luffy would get in it.

"Sanji, um, the key please." You ask, clearing your throat as the two seemed to watch your every move.

He smiles, stepping beside you, his hand trailing from your waist to the curve of your ass. He's grinning the whole time, his eyes cutting to Zoro before squatting down, using your leg as a means to steady himself to retrieve the well-hidden, key. His fingers dance over your thighs and inwards, just barely brushing over the crotch of your shorts. You yelp, tensing when Zoro gives a slight 'tch'

Sanji stands, plopping the piece of metal in your hand before returning to the stove from whence he came.

"Thanks." You rasp, fianlly feeling a pinh at ease before oepenign the fridge.

Too bad the peace only lasted for two seconds, becuse right when you had cracked it open, Zoro was already behind you, reaching for his desnated bottle of alcohol, his hand right at your waist, just where Sanji's had been.

Instead of squatting however, down to more or less 'politely' show ownership of you, Zoro opts to wind his hand back as far as possible.

SMACK

You yelp louder, steadying yourself agaisn the fridge as you moan at the sting. There was no doubt there was a bit of a mark again toyu melenated skin now. Zoro only grins, all too smug at Sanji's enraged expression.

"Thats it. You just have no sense of respect do you." Sanji argues, Zoro standing a bit taller now.

If you hadn't been squeezed between the two now, they'd surely be chest to chest. Your body is beginning to betray you, heat flooding your face and between your thighs. This wasn't about them. This was about you and who you liked more...They each wanted your attention. Rightfully so, I mean not only were you a sweetheart with a smart mouth but that mouth could do a lot more than just talk shit. And either one of them would be happy to accept death between your thighs.

"If you knew anythign at all, youd kne she likes a little desrespect." Zoro shoots back, your eyes widening.

"If you knew anything you'd know she likes being treated like a princess." Sanji scoffs.

"Lets not talk about me like im not here-"

You're cut off when they shoot that same look your way. A look you'd seen one to many times, bent over, facing a conveniently placed mirror...or wit your back against the matress, one of them over you while your legs cramp up from being so close to your chest.

Damn fr two guys who seemingly didn't 'get alog' they sure had a lot in common.

In the heat fo the argument, you slide pst the pair and out of the kitchen. Unfortunetly for you, a head of orage just happened to be outside and heard part of the last three statements.

"I dont even want to knw what or how you're gonna get out of this. Youll figure it out." Nami half encourages as you groan.

Is that what good pussy did to a mf? Start wars?! It blew your mind but you had less than a few seconds process to the situation. Before you could even realize what was happening, Zoro exited the kitchen and scope you up. And right behim him was a very serious, looking Sanji....

oh you’re so screwed.

——————————————

Authors note: HI YALLL ok so this one’s been sitting in the drafts for literally I wanna say a half a year now lmao uhhhhh let me know if you’d like to be tagged for pt.2 that’s where all the HOT SHIT HAPPENS! Anyway love you all! Drink water lol

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

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*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

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

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

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[drluvsick]

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘 — 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚

giyu and water lilies have much in common; ft. self conscious giyu! 📝 gn! reader. little hurt to comfort, mostly fluff. didn’t proofread, umm didn’t like the execution for this… for the vitamin u event!

word count : 800+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘗𝘈𝘊𝘌 𝘚𝘖𝘕𝘎 (𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘋 𝘜𝘗) — 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘊𝘏 𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘌

water lilies are known to symbolize many things. they can also be associated with the person you love most in so many aspects.

resurrection. water lilies shut themselves at night only to open up again in the morning, and some people believe in the symbolism of resurrection because of the flowers emerging from the murky waters of their home into the light of the rays of the sun.

it reminds you of your closest friend, giyu, in the way that he had happiness before—the innocence of being a child, so distant from any bad thing that could affect his reality only to be crushed completely at the death of his best friend. that happiness, though never in its old form, came back when he met you, resurrected from within after so many years of denying it. his happiness, in a way, had resurrected. different, but the same warm feeling nonetheless.

“…you spend so much time with me.”

you pick at another weak flower, putting its petals precariously in his hair. you save the stronger flowers as a whole to put securely on top of his head. giyu holds his own water lily, red in color. he doesn’t do anything with it, though. he just holds it in his hands, resting them on his thighs.

“is that a bad thing?” you question.

“not necessarily,” he responds, “i just think you could spend your days doing something more… productive…than spending time with me of all people.”

“what brought this on?” you glance at him, seeing his eyes staring at the water, the flower, anywhere but you. he was beautiful.

beauty. there’s something about the way those flowers rest in the places they live; simply floating on pond surfaces with their petals stuck together like a living community living near other groups of communities, with their multiple colors characterized as different symbolisms and the calmness they seem to exude.

giyu’s pretty, handsome—any praiseworthy words complimenting his looks. but it’s not all about that, is it? his personality’s certainly unique than that of his fellow comrades. albeit rather stuck in the past, he’s quite the worrywart for people he cares about, even if at first he can be a bit mean and forlorn (although, before you’d met him, the “forlorn” part could’ve been pretty accurate…). he’s kind, gentle, and calm—beauty rarely found outside and inside a person, even if he can rarely notice it himself.

“someone told me to stop wasting your time. i’m beginning to think they’re right,” giyu places the flower in his hands into the water, watching as the wind carries it away from him as petals fly from his hair to the surface in tow.

“who told you that?” you ask, surprised at the disinterested look on his face. you expected much, but after all this time… maybe you’d hoped that he’d be a little more interested in wanting your interactions to not end.

“it doesn’t mat—”

“giyu.”

he stays silent for a hot few seconds before admitting, his eyes semi-closing as he opens his mouth a few times before managing to speak. “it…it was just a feeling. mixed with some comments i’ve heard from the other hashiras.”

you don’t push on the matter of who said what further, instead opting to be nearer on the matter of keeping his hopes alive that you want to be with him.

“do you want our meetings to stop?”

he sighs. “…no. of course not.” you both watch as the red water lily from before bumps into him, his hands reluctantly reaching to lift it up again.

“that’s good,” you exhale in relief, “then i’m free to continue spending time with you—not wasting it, there’s a difference—without anyone stopping me.”

your conclusion made him think that what he’d just proposed was silly. you both sat for a few minutes in silence, you looking for something as giyu sat staring at the water lily in his palms.

he snapped out of his trance when he felt you put a flower on his head, hearing you softly laugh as you tucked and moved his hair this way and that to hold it in place.

“…i love you.” he murmured.

enlightenment.

you froze once you processed those words, giyu wincing and his eyes widening once he registered what he’d uttered.

it can mean understanding. whether that be understanding the many meanings and symbolisms from one of july’s flowers to understanding the people around you.

you slowly smiled, moving your hands from the delicate flower to his shoulders, kneeling in order to hug him and whisper, “i love you too,” to him.

it reminds you of giyu in the way that you spent awhile to recognize his pains of what had happened to him and how those horrors had trailed and haunted him to his adulthood. how you deciphered his emotions through his stoic shield of protection. how you took the time to really understand him, to get to this point.

he carefully guided your head to face him, his lips ineptly finding yours as you helped him through the process, the red water lily set next to him as he embraced you fully.

red water lilies symbolize pure love. it’s just another reason why these particular flowers remind you so much of the person you loved most.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[urfavlarry]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN LETS GOO!

I just have this crazy idea which is kinda cringy but can you do a soulmate au with tyler where the last thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist, but it changes when they are in the phantom realm and then tyler dies, or something like that

i know it sounds stupid but thanks if you decide to do it ヾ(＾-＾)ノ

Meant to be part I.

Tyler Hernández x reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar

genre: fluff

A/N: soo about the thing your soulmate says to you is on your wrist.. I made it so it’s the sentance your soulmate WILL say to you.. like the thing that is written on your wrist will happen in the future yk ?? like you have it ever since you were born and it dissapears when you meet your soulmate and they say the sentance to you! hope thats not confusing lmao

A/N 2.0: FUCKING HELL I JUST REALISED I MESSED THE WHOLE REQUEST UP OMG GIRLLL.. nah I’m so sorry but in the part two ill make it that in the phantom dimension its the opposite of the real world, you have your soulmates last words on your wrist so bare with me here okay

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“She’s probably the one that played that stupid prank on us.”

That was the sentance written on your wrist for about 16 years. You have no idea what it means since you weren’t the type to prank people since you thought those kinds of things were stupid and childish. You walk through the streets of Savannah, staring down at your phone. You were in Savannah for a school trip, another school coming along with you for 2 days. While you were lost in thought you feel someone crashing into you. Groaning, you put a hand on your head since they kind of hit you in the head pretty bad. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” A girl with short black hair and tattoos says to you, quickly getting up and looks you up and down; “Maybe as a sorry I could give you a tour of the Sorrel Weed house?” She says and eagerly waits for your answer; “A group cancelled on me so I have some free tickets left?” You look down at your phone, seeing that you still have about an hour left before having to go back to meet up with your class. “I um, sure? I have time.” She smiles and hands you one ticket and drags you to what looks like a very, very old house. She tells you to look around for a bit and that she will be back with some more people in a few minutes and to not touch anything.

A few minutes pass and she comes back with a group you noticed when you were walking to your room at the motel. You notice a boy with dark red hair and a girl, who is most likely his twin look at you. The girl smiled at you so you did so as well to not seem rude, but the boy just.. glared?? You shrugged it off and admired the old architecture of the house. It was a cozy but creepy looking house, it had some hidden details you wondered about. You liked imagining about what kind of memories the people that lived here had. Maybe they were a noble family that were secretely some sort of criminals? Or maybe it was a big family that struggled to keep themselves on their feet? You follow the others as the black haired girl, whos name you couldn’t remember lead you into an eerie looking room. You get chills down your spine and put on your hoodie, a really evident drop in temperature being in the room.

A phone ringing echoed through the room, the black haired girl excusing herself and left the room in a hurry. You eye the group who were whispering something to each other, the boy from earlier still eyeing you as you were some sort of pray. You hear the ginger girl talk about some sort of sensitivity to sound, the blonde boy and the grumpy one were fascinated by it. You walk past them and turn towards them, eyeing them from behind. You notice a strange figure behind the ginger girl, getting creeped out you gasp, alerting the others as well. “Ashlyn.. Behind you.” A boy with glasses says and you shiver, your whole body tensing up.

The girl flinched and falls to the ground, the mysterious figure disappearing in a heart beat. “What was that thing?” “A ghost maybe?” The blonde boy says as if this whole encounter was the most hilarious thing ever. The brunette boy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah as if, ghosts aren’t real.” He looks towards you and his brows furrow. He steps closer to you and pushes you towards the group. You stumble back, tripping on your feet but catch yourself before you could fall on your ass. “Rude much..” You mumble but immediately shut up when you see his pissed face.

“She’s probably the one that played that stupid prank on us.”

Your face goes pale, a tingly feeling welling up in your arm. He was your soulmate. You don’t say anything and just push past them. leaving the creepy house and hurry back to meet with your class. You were quiet the whole time at your hotel room, your roommates doing their own thing as you just layed there on your bed. It was about 11:43pm and you couldn’t get that boy off your mind. The other school, which they were from was just on the floor below yours. You wonder what your first words to him will be. You decide to go and speak to the ginger haired girl, thinking that she looked pretty nice you went downstairs and went to what you think was their room, at least that’s where you saw them enter. You knock on the door and pray for them to not be asleep when you hear the door open, and there she was. “Hey um, I was the one that was at that weird house with you guys.. I was wondering if we could um.. be friends?” You ask and mentally face palm at your shyness. She looks you up and down and yells some girls name. The girl, AKA the grumpy boys twin appears behind her and speaks up; “Hey! I remember you! You were with us at that house. Come in!” She says with a smile and you nod, walking in. “We were about to go to sleep but we could have a sleepover.” She says and you nod, introducing yourself; “Oh and by the way, I’m Y/N.” You say and they introduce themselves as Taylor and Ashlyn. You sit down on the floor and when you go and speak, your whole world goes black.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🥀 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A/N: haha bet you didn’t expect a cliffhanger !! I’ll make a part two soon so dw and make sure to take care of yourself guys~ :D

[guiltysungho]

— bad idea right ?!

genre : tags. fluff, brother's best friend, enemies to lovers (?), teasing, slightly suggestive, sex mentioned

pairing. brother’s best friend!han dongmin x gn!reader

wordcount. 1825

a/n. i hope y’all like this, its not proofread cause it should be fine lol, its a bit more fluffy than pt1 also yk longer. here’s part one if you even care.

Last night in Italy and you were starting to genuinely wonder why your brother had brought you along on the stay. Most nights he would just leave you alone to enjoy the scenery with his girlfriend, and you had no interest in partaking in that experience, so you would end up with Dongmin. Going out to enjoy the night life with him felt unthinkable in the first couple night but the prejudice you had of him was starting to wear off.

After spending a few nights in each other’s company, you couldn’t just say you hated him anymore, he wasn’t really hateable as much as you hated to admit it. He was admirable if anything, you’d find yourself opening up to him so easily whenever it was hard to fall asleep, just talking about anything and everything. In some ways he pushed you to talk, like he could see all the baggage of thoughts weighing on your mind and wanted to help you unpack, he would ask simple questions like why, how come and you tell him all about it.

It was an odd case, two weeks ago you were sure you hated his whole essence but somehow, he’d become someone who listened to your worries, when you didn’t even know you had worries that needed to be heard. You couldn’t help but be cautious, because of the things you knew, you’d never truly open up as much as you wanted. He’d always be attentive either way, his tired eyes fixed on you as he stayed beside you on the bed resting his head in his hand, nodding every now and then. Your eyes would sometimes meet, and he would give you that lazy smile, such a dreamy smile.

“What?” you’d ask annoyed by how easily the expression made you shy away from his gaze.

“I just like listening to you, can I not smile?” he laughs at your sudden change in tone, you roll over away from his face before responding.

“Keep it to yourself” you turn off the lamp beside you, refusing to let him see the dumb smile on your face.

Once again you were stuck in the hotel room with him, only this time would probably be the last when you’d go back to your usual lives you knew it would be over and you were fine with that, you couldn’t afford to fall for him anymore if it would up in heartbreak and you knew it would.

“Get up, we’re leaving” he grabs a cap before heading for the door, looking at you expectantly, “We are not spending our last night in here. I promised to take you out remember.”

Rolling your eyes at him you stand up, silently agreeing to it all, a lopsided grin grows on his lips as he places his hand on the back of your neck pinching you making you lift your head up to cover your neck from his touch, giggling as you run away from him.

It would be a waste to not go out in the night at least once while you were in Italy, while you were with him.

You look at the machine he displayed in front of you with a show of hands, it was a small vespa moped that had been well used to say the least, listening to him explain about how he had rented it out for the trip and that it was safe, he had used it.

“It’s safe for one person, I know that for sure”

“So I should die? Dongmin seriously… I’m not getting on that” your whining barely registered to him, you look up at him with an annoyed pout as he places the helmet on your head leaning in closer to buckle it under your chin. He makes sure your eyes meet to give you a sweet smile to reassure you.

“Just hold on tight, I promise you’ll be fine, okay?”

And so it was done, you sat behind him on the scooter with a firm grip on his tshirt, he got his helmet on before taking your hands, pulling you closer to wrap your arms around his waist. You might have squeezed his intestines to paste during the first five minutes of the drive but he didn’t mention it, he just brought your attention to the scenery you were missing out on with your head hidden in his back. Once you did look it put you at ease, the beautiful sunset on the vineyards the type of view you’d only ever seen in movies.

You rested the side of your head on his back, still holding on as you watched the beauty unfold before you, the historical architecture, the fruitful trees holding on to the plump spheres of vibrant colours, you didn’t know where he was taking you, but you were already enjoying the ride. That was until the ride stopped, or should you say the scooter broke down, three final huffs and it was dead, he turned back to you with a grin on his face ready for your scolding.

“It was obvious at death’s door, I can’t believe this” he got off first before helping you off, taking off your helmet just as he had put it on, eyes meeting yours before he spoke.

“Trust me”

As hard as it was to just blindly follow him you just did, there was no where else to go. You were in a small seemingly empty town in the south of Italy with a broken down vespa, you would be fine from here.

It wasn’t a long walk till you realized where this was going, the neon lights flashing at the distance told you all you needed to know, you try hiding your smile turning away from his sight, but he caught on, he already knew you would like it, and the more you got closer the harder it was to stay indifferent. It was a big fun fair right by the dock, the ocean view was barely visible in the darkening sky, but the cool breeze was all you needed.

“Cool.” You shrug glancing at him with a big smile on your lips as you looked at the attractions marvelled by the variety of rides, completely overjoyed.

His gaze lingers on the happiness across your face, it was a sight he’d never seen, he knew he liked your smile but what he was feeling was beyond that, he wanted this happy face to last, like he would do anything to keep you this smiley.

You don’t waste much time after parking the moped, once you’re in you go on a ride together, the one with the least people waiting so you’re on in a dash.

“I’m actually really bad with adrenaline rides” he confesses as you get bucked in your seats, you turn to him with a confused smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the ride starts lifting you up slowly so it can spin you around in the air,

“You looked so excited” you can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in your holding onto it tightly, watching his worried eyes scan the environment before shutting close as the spinning starts.

Honestly you had screamed a lot more than him, but his hand held onto your so tightly you couldn’t feel it anymore. You ended up alternating from slower rides to faster ones, he insisted on joining you but once in the ride you could see his regret in his shaky eyes, so your hands would meet and you would scream together at drops, laughing about it once you were back on the ground.

It was more fun than most of your amusement park experiences for some reason, you felt lucky, to have someone drive you on a barely functional moped just to go on rides he couldn’t even stand, he was nothing like anyone ever painted him out to be, he was just a kind person. Finally taking a break from all the rides, you found refuge in a small playground right beside the place, dragging your tired feet along with a large ball of cotton candy in your hand for you to share.

You both found seats respectively on each side of a swing set, swinging along with the gentle seaside wind, it was a nice ambiance with the coloured lights still flashing from the fair.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, I underestimated you” he looks over to you with a faint smile.

“I’m really not the bad guy you think I am,” you wanted to reassure him that you didn’t think that but the reminder that you didn’t know him that well came in, it was like you couldn’t help but protect your heart because of how easily you trusted people in the past. “I just got mixed up with the wrong people.” a dry scoff escapes his lips.

“I don’t—”

“Can you trust me again? I don’t really care what anyone else thinks but I want you to see me as me, not as caricature that someone else formed of me” his gaze is upwards to the starry night sky, not entirely sure you would take his word, you reach for his hand wrapped around the swing rope bringing him back to you.

For a change it was you listening to him, he explained how baseless the rumours were, a product of envy from peers across the campus, he never did anything to trigger it, he only kept to himself and that annoyed people. They felt they were entitled to his attention and since he didn’t bother amusing their tricks, they used rumours to make him detested by people who didn’t even know him. You were no different from those who spread the rumours, judging him from the moment you met instead of giving him a chance to be himself.

“I’m so sorry, Dongmin” from the first day you could tell he wasn’t as bad as you had heard him to be, but you held on to whispered words when you could have just let yourself realize the truth.

He smiles getting up from his seat to meet you crouching in front of you to meet your eyes, lifting your chin up gently before pulling your cheeks up to form a smile.

“I like it when you smile more, don’t feel bad for me” his eyebrows raise in shock surprised by your deepened frown, watching as your gaze trail off.

“So you really didn’t want to fuck me?” you ask glancing at him hesitantly, it was a joke to ease the mood, you hadn’t thought it through much but you wanted to know what he would say as a joke.

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughs picking out a ball of cotton candy from you before going back to his swing like nothing happened while you tried to decipher the depth of that short sentence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

🏷️; @ihopeusmile

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

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