#like they still care about you and love you but it never feels like it

[beloveds-embrace]

(dark poly 141 x single pregnant reader, very rushed)

You don’t know when they first appeared in your life. Maybe it was the day at the grocery store when your feet ached, your belly heavy with the weight of your unborn child, and a stranger- a man too broad, too still, lingering in the same aisle as you- offered to load your bags into the car. Maybe it was when you were late getting home from work, the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs, and a burly man with sharp, blue eyes and a thick Scottish brogue insisted on walking you to your door, just to “make sure ye got in safe, bonnie.”

Or maybe it was before that, when your landlord suddenly decided not to raise the rent, when the lights in your apartment stopped flickering despite you never calling maintenance.

You don’t know when it started.

But by the time you notice them, it’s too late.

They come in pieces, never all at once. Maybe that’s why your focus never quite catches them when it should’ve.

Johnny is the easiest to trust. He’s warm, friendly, a constant presence that doesn’t seem out of place- until you look back and realize you don’t remember ever properly speaking to him for the first time. He’s always just there, standing behind you in line at the pharmacy, offering to carry your bags when you struggle. He calls you “bonnie” and clicks his tongue when he sees the exhaustion on your face.

“You’re pushin’ yourself too hard, lass.” His voice is teasing, but there’s something firm beneath it, much like his hands on your shoulders. “Should be restin’.”

Then there’s Kyle. He’s the one who keeps showing up at the diner you work at, at first just another regular, but then a fixture in your days. He leaves tips that are too big and stays long after he’s finished his food, asking you questions- small, harmless things.

“How far along are you?”

“Got any family around?”

“You shouldn’t be on your feet all day. You got someone looking after you, love?”

There’s concern in his voice. It feels nice, being cared for, so you don’t let yourself worry about why he asks so many questions.

But you don’t notice the way his eyes track you when you move. The way he listens too closely, storing away every detail you give him.

Simon is a shadow. A presence you feel but never see too clearly. When your apartment door’s lock sticks one night, it’s mysteriously fixed by morning. When your feet swell too much for your shoes, a new, comfortable pair appears in a package at your door- no return address. When you wake up in the middle of the night, you think you hear movement outside your window, but when you check, there’s nothing there.

He introduces himself to you once, silently joining your side when a group of young men had attempted to follow you. You’d been to grateful to consider that he had been following you, as well. And thus, that had been your first meeting as far as you were aware.

And then there’s John. He comes last, when you’re already too exhausted to question why they’re all suddenly in your life.

“You shouldn’t be working like this,” he tells you one night when he shows up at the diner, sitting in your section like he belongs there. He watches you, steady and unshakable, like he’s waiting for you to break. “Not in your condition.”

“My condition?” you scoff, but you’re too tired to be indignant.

“You’re pregnant,” he says simply. “You need to rest.”

You want to rest.

But there’s rent to pay. Bills. A baby coming soon, and no one else to help.

Except, suddenly, there is someone. Maybe more than one person, even if you don’t notice the changes at first because they start so small.

Johnny shows up when you’re struggling with your bags, even when you don’t remember telling him where you’d be. Kyle appears at your work just when you need an extra hand. John tells you he has “connections” when your hours get cut and suddenly, your landlord is more lenient about late payments.

When your doctor’s office calls to confirm your next prenatal appointment, the receptionist mentions your “husband” already checked in about your test results.

You don’t have a husband.

But when you try to ask for details, the woman on the phone just laughs. “Oh, don’t worry- he said everything’s fine. Had a lovely Mancunian accent! You’ve got yourself quite a lovely man, mrs.”

You never get a name, and you don’t know what to do about your suspicions.

And you don’t notice the cameras.

Not when Johnny pulls you into a hug, his hands lingering a little too long on your back. Not when Kyle helps you rearrange your furniture, brushing his fingers against the edges of your walls. Not when John “fixes” your heater, or when Simon sits silently in the corner after he’s given you a teddy bear for your little bean, its eyes beady and gleaming.

But they’re there. Tiny, black dots tucked into the corners of your home. A microphone nestled near the nightstand. A wire running under the couch.

They see you.

They always see you.

You wake up one night to the sound of your apartment door unlocking.

Fear grips you instantly, but before you can move, a voice rumbles in the darkness.

“Shh. It’s just me.”

John. How-?

Your heart is pounding, but he sounds calm. Steady. You hear the door click shut, hear his boots move across your floor, even when you wheeze in fear and press your back against the headboard of your bed.

“You forgot to lock up again.” He says, a quiet reprimand. He was always telling you to do that, but-

“I- I don’t think I did-“

“You did,” he assures you. “Anyone could’ve walked in.”

Like him.

There’s a shift in the air, something heavy settling between you. You swallow hard, pressing a hand to your belly, eyes teary from fright even if he is calm.

John exhales softly, and his face softens. Then, a warm hand rests over yours, heavy and possessive.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he murmurs. “Let us take care of you.”

The words settle into you like a brand, curling around your ribs.

You should say no. Demand what the fuck is going on, why is he here, why them-

But you’re too tired. Too scared.

And his hand is so steady.

[zaynesparadise]

∯ COCKOLOGY 101: ZAYNE & CALEB !

🫧✱ ݁ ˖ | a simple analysis about papi 1 & papi 2’s schlongs ♡ (i’m giving u full hex colours & measurements.)

pairing. — MDNI (17+) fem!reader x 𝐜 & 𝐳 (separate) warnings. dick measurements, overstimulation, mentions of shaving, mentions of porn, big cock caleb & big cock zayne, omg idk how to put the warnings for this one wc. 1.3k a,n. this is just for fun & obv on the unrealistic side don’t take this seriously. cuz i was laughing the whole time making this anywho enjoy !!!! <3

Ꮺ ZAYNE. firm believer that dr.zayne is on the longer side than the thicker one, don’t get me wrong i am no way calling this man’s dick skinny. it’s very thick but it is for sure hitting ur cervix no matter how unrealistic this sounds. his tip is a solid #e3b1b8 more on the pinkish side cuz have u seen this man’s nipples. they’re so PINK & he’s so paleish pink overall, rest of his cock is #edb8a8 still on the very pale side, transition colour from tip - rest of his inches is #e6a1a1 :3 his mouth-watering 8.2 inches (6 inches soft cuz i said so) (3.2 inches delicious girth wise) has the slightest, almost unnoticeable tilt to the right side that makes ur eyes cross

while we’re on the topic, zayne def shaves. we’ve seen his razor bumps, some days when his skin is a bit more sensitive he just does a simple trim in the shower and calls it a day, one of my hcs is that this man smells good. like you’ll never catch this man smelling off or even bad in your entire life, he takes his hygiene so seriously so i know he smells good everywhere. good quality cotton boxers, ball deodorant when he has longer shifts in the hospital, glycolic acid in every crack and crevice, really musky & light on the nose cologne paired with a nicely scented lotion, over all incredible hygiene.

daily cups of pineapple juice. firm believer that zayne has a lil morning routine ritual where he probably eats a spoonful of sea moss, takes his needed supplements & green juice so why not throw in a cup of fresh & organic pineapple juice to his routine? this man smells and tastes divine. and he knows it, he’s very proud of it and takes his sacred routine very seriously.

side notes: the way that he cums is sometimes sudden to him, zayne is very sensitive so when he’s wrapped around your walls that are continuously milking him he instantly gets lost in euphoria and doesn’t even realise how quick his climax is building up, sometimes he does have the focus to warn you but most times his head is in the clouds and he’s practically just babbling and rutting his hips unconsciously.

cums in warm, filling ropes of milky, almost watery cum. like i said, he takes great care of himself that paired with his obsession with your sweet cunt devouring his cock he cums so for so long, his orgasms are long lasting and intense. by the time the aftershocks of his high wash down his body he’s all over you again, kissing nibbling and licking every part of you that he can :(

not a big fan of overstimulation, but since you are he can’t deny you the fun at all. thing is, like i mentioned before he’s very sensitive, it’s ridiculously easy to make him overstimulated. a simple “you can give me one more, can’t you?” with a wink when you’re riding him is really all it takes. he turns into literal putty in your hands. thigh muscles flexing and sweat shimmering on his abs when he fills you up over and over again just because his pretty girl asked him to <3

his cock when overstimulated turns so red, his natural shade being a slight off pink colour that gets darker when he’s hard and fully crimson when you’re overstimulating him. a few slight, faint veins begin appearing around his base that you love to run your tongue all over just to feel him shiver under your touch, he loves it just as much as you love it.

in conclusion: pretty shaved & regularly trimmed balls, paleish pink 8.2 inches, lemon juice mixed with olive oil shots king and a sucker for pleasing his pretty gf <3

𖧷 CALEB. this man right here should be awarded for not having back pain bcs of the way he’s packing. i am a caleb horse cock truther ✋ 7.2 inches length wise but 4.5 inches girth wise this man is MASSIVE humongous gigantic BIG. he’s really big. (BIG CALEB!) thing is .. i’m also a believer in somewhat inexperienced caleb. he might’ve had a lil thing here and there but it never got serious or anything so he really doesn’t know how fucking huge he is.

(probably found out when he and gideon saw each other naked for the first time and he noticed the way gideon’s eyes were practically about to fall out of their sockets) now don’t get him wrong he’s watched porn and whenever he’s clicked on the “massive cock destroys—“ u get the gist, the dick in question always looked.. average in his eyes? it looked closer in length to his, he might’ve been longer even but that was considered to be massive? #BlessedButDoesntKnowIt #HeHasAWeaponOfMassDestructionAndIsntAware

he never really stressed himself about it, so quick side notes: tip colour #d9a593 more on the tanned side in comparison to zayne but it’s still so pretty rest of his cock is #ba8270 with a slight transition shade of #d99b82, regularly keeps himself trimmed but isn’t too serious or anxious about it, def believe that it’s very, very like extremely veiny. you’ve seen the veins around this man’s abdomen. has so many faint veins decorating his underside, and when i tell u that this man’s cock literally cannot stand upwards fully when he’s erect because it’s so fucking heavy i mean it.

i see caleb to be blessed with incredible genetics, good & decent hygiene but he’s not the type to really eat a spoonful of sea moss or coconut cult in the morning, he’s more like the kind of guy that makes himself green tea while blasting bruno mars at six am in his kitchen tbh. that being said he definitely tries his hardest to take care of himself by going to the gym and drinking water often so he tastes nice wouldn’t say that he’s not on the salty side bcs he for sure is, but it’s still very delicious.

going back to the good genetics & gym rat side; he has his cheat days (that sometimes might extend longer than intended, let a man be lazy for once he deserves it) but even when he stuffs his (godly) body with junk food or stuff that don’t really align with what he usually nourishes his body, it’s still literally perfect. his genetics come into play and it’s like he just had a green goddess salad with a side of cranberry juice, you’re definitely envious of his metabolism.

side notes: the way he cums depends on how he’s been fucking you, if it’s a quickie then it’s going to be an eye rolling orgasm for him. cums frequently one second he’s filling you up with long, thick like heavy ropes of glistening cum the next he’s still hard and fucking his cum deeper into you, on the contrary if he’s taking his time with pounding you against the bed, then he’s going to have a literal toe curling and back arching orgasm. he loves to cum deep inside of your fluttering walls, warm breaths fanning your ear as he keeps filling you up from behind, he cums for so so long if you pressed on your lower stomach you’d feel the way he’s stuffing you full.

is he ready for overstimulation? real question is, is overstimulation ready for him? a literal beast. this man fears nothing and is a freak. overstimulation should actually fear him. his gym obsession always comes in handy when it comes for inhumane stamina, he doesn’t mind fucking both of you dumb till he’s shooting blanks. whimpering, babbling, drooling till he can’t even speak coherent sentences and just mouths at whatever part of you he can reach. doesn’t care if his dick practically looks purple and feels like it’s about to fall off— if he’s overstimulating you both, he’s going to do it till you’re both passed out on his messy mattress.

in conclusion: caleb’s packing in the front and the back (papa packing never lacking), average monster cock, decent hygiene, salty addictive cum 🙂‍↕️

♥︎ : litr wrote this while listening to kitty kat by meg & thatpower by will.i.am so idek + this unserious drabble is dedicated to my caleb big cock believer & the reason why this acc opened in the first place: nia bunny :3 ♡

[quarterlifekitty]

weaknesses: your cooking

König was on watch with you late one night, and you insisted upon filling the air with a bit of conversation– said you needed it to stay awake. You end up asking him lots of questions that night, including all of his favorite foods and drinks. He has trouble answering, he’s never had to come up with this much information about himself, but you don’t mind.

“Do you have a favorite dessert? Mine is lemon meringue pie,” you say with a sweet little smile. It makes him realize how cute you are. That, outside of your uniforms, a cute girl is talking to him. It makes him panic a little, such that he can only bring himself to respond with a quiet me too. 

He had no idea what his favorite dessert was when you asked. He wasn’t even sure he particularly enjoyed desserts at all, honestly. He’s hoping you forget about this embarrassing exchange, really. But you don’t.

You’re stationed in Switzerland when next it comes up. You proudly come back to your accommodations with a little box from a bakery. “I saw this in town today and remembered that you liked meringue too! So I got one, if you wanted to share it with me?”

He just nods. And it’s the best fucking dessert he’s ever had. Which has little to do with how the desert itself tastes. It becomes the first dessert he learns how to make at home, and he makes his best yet when you’re celebrating moving in together. It’s when he’s feeding it to you that he finally comes clean– when you’d asked him his favorite dessert, he’d never even eaten lemon meringue pie before.

Gaz takes incredibly good care of himself. He detests getting sick, maybe more than anything else. It’s just so annoying, and it totally ruins his momentum– throws him off his groove. So he very very rarely gets sick, and is in fact often disgustingly bright, healthy, and energetic. 

Gaz also comes from a home that had amazing food. His standards are, understandably, quite high. A piece of his soul leaves with every MRE he consumes. Which is why his favorite food from you is such a surprise.

It’s during the infancy of your relationship. You’ve been on a few dates. Exploratory, probing, trying to deduce if this is love or just the symptoms of it. He’s on the fence about telling you he’s fallen ill– it’s a little awkward, isn’t it? Partners are supposed to take care of each other in times like that, but he’s not sure you’re ready to be called his partner, much less be around him when he’s a germ factory. But he ends up telling you, if only not to look like he’s ignoring you if he slips into another death-nap while you’re texting.

You do end up coming over, despite all his warnings, all of the easy outs he provides you with. Get him a fresh gatorade before busying yourself in his kitchen.

You come back with a steaming mug that he doesn’t recognize. You say you brought it from home– that it’s your special mug you like to use when you feel icky. It’s got wisteria painted on the side with the scientific name in script next to it, and a little silver spoon with a teddy bear on the end is sticking out of it.

He takes the mug gratefully but still a little cautious– he doesn’t really know all that much about your cooking, and he’ll readily admit that his parents ruined the standard.

He looks down in it to see oatmeal. A bit of cinnamon dusted on, a golden swirl of honey going through it. Just a little bit of cardamom. 

He used to hate oatmeal when he was a kid, but he finishes the mug in record time and asks if you’ll make more. It’s just so soft and hot– gentle on his aching stomach and sore throat, the heat and cinnamon spice clearing up his sinuses a little bit. The sweetness is perfect and comforting as it sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Nowadays he keeps up the same wellness regimen, but he does almost look forward to getting sick, because it means you’ll make oatmeal for him.

When sharing a safehouse with Soap, there’s one inevitable constant: the whining. He always finds something to whinge about, just to ease his own boredom. It’s never about the conditions, having to sleep on shitty mattresses on floors, having to trek 10 miles through the dark and fog to even get there– it’s always about something stupid.

Girl who hasn’t texted him back. His deployment making him miss out on a limited edition thing he would’ve wanted to buy. That during his last leave a girl ghosted him after he barked during sex. Come to think of it, it was usually about his girl problems.

But this time, it was that he happened to be deployed on his birthday. Not that he’s sore about spending time with the taskforce, you’re his best mates in the world– but there’s not much celebration to be had out here.

“Could do with a fockin’ cake, ye ken?”

You were taken onto this squad for your adaptability. You’re brilliant when it comes to improvisation. And there’s a couple of shelf stable things left around in the cabinets here, although dubious.

So what are you able to bang together with flour, sugar, and the liquid from a can of chickpeas in some tin cups on top of a butane stove on its last legs?

That’s right. A fockin’ cake. Is it good? God no. The texture is weird as hell and it’s somehow dry on the outside but completely raw in the middle. But Soap smiles the entire time he’s eating it, and god knows he’s finishing the whole damned thing.

He was always of the mind that it’s rude not to finish your wife’s cooking.

It’s Price’s first holiday with you, and his expectations are low. Not as in he doesn’t think you’ll be lovely and amazing, he most certainly does, but his whole squad is coming over and preparing for that is a pretty big undertaking. So if it’s something a little more casual, maybe a bit of potluck, he’ll be perfectly fine with that. His ex used to order catering and tell the guests that she’d cooked it all herself, so anything is a step up from that in his book.

You stun him absolutely stupid when you not only plan a spectacular, full holiday dinner, but you make his boys help out– commanding them in the kitchen the same way he does in the field. Well, maybe a bit less forgiving. You’re less tender-hearted than him when the moistness of the roast in the oven is on the line. Everything is delicious, full of love, and satisfying beyond belief.

But his true fulfillment comes about a year later when his soldiers are awkwardly talking around their plans for the holidays, trying to nudge him into inviting them over again to make dinner with his missus. Muppets, the lot of them.

A lot of Ghost’s concept of vegetables come from army food, school cafeterias, and all-you-can-eat buffets. Typically frozen, only to be thawed and overcooked to an ungodly degree. On the rare occasion he had a half-decent meal with a vegetable side, it was typically covered in butter, cheese, or finely chopped bacon. Sometimes a combination of the three.

You’re a hookup he falls back on a lot when he’s on leave. Keeps him away from his empty apartments and crowded mind. This time, he comes straight to your place when he lands, wanting to lose himself in your cunt more than anything else. And you’re accommodating, you don’t have anything better to do and he doesn’t leave you wanting.

Usually he makes himself scarce pretty quickly, but this time he finds that maybe he was still running on adrenaline when he came in, and now that it’s wearing off with his post-orgasm high, his entire body is killing him. He feels like lead. And he hates that his struggle is plain to see.

“You can just stay, y’know. S’not like I’ll be expecting a wedding ring in the morning or anything. I’m just gonna go make dinner.”

He’s too tired to protest. Falls asleep just about as soon as you’re out of the room, despite very much intending to get the hell up and pass out somewhere that isn’t your apartment. He wakes up to an amazing smell.

Your dinner isn’t complicated. You’d just planned to have dinner by yourself, so it wasn’t fancy or anything. Grilled some salmon, put it over rice with some unagi sauce, steamed some fresh veggies for the side. Simon just barely has the energy to amble over to your kitchen table when it’s clear he won’t be leaving the premises any time soon.

When he’s not eating food that’s mass produced and shitty, he expects to be eating the kind of battered and fried pub faire that sits like a stone and ravages the digestive tract.

This may very well be the first time he’s eaten a meal that was genuinely good that didn’t make him feel at least a little bit disgusting afterwards. And god– it’s like it’s his first time tasting a vegetable for real. Why didn’t anyone tell him they could be this way?

You’re quite frankly shocked when you wake up in the morning and Simon is not only still there– he wants to take you out to breakfast. 

The truth is that he got a pretty remarkably good night’s rest, but in the wee hours while he was waiting for you to wake up? He was planning. The jump from friends with benefits to marriage won’t really be so difficult if he can play his cards right.

[bewaryofpity]

i come to you not as a filthy little freak this time but as a hopeless romantic. "your heart is beating so fast right now" for my sweet quinny. give me the softness, the yearning, the delicate romance <3 i believe in you <3

quinny will always be a sweet, delicate, lover 🙂‍↕️

7. “Your heart is beating so fast right now.”

.

Quinn stood by the stove, sweats and shirt loose on his frame, quietly humming to himself as he prepared your coffee mugs. His hair was still tousled from sleep, curling all over the place. You watched him for a moment from the doorway, smiling at how domestic he looked like this, barefoot and ever so soft.

He didn’t hear you coming up behind him until your arms slipped around his waist underneath his shirt. You felt him startle for half a second before he exhaled a quiet hum —too early to speak, leaning back into you without thinking. His body warmed instantly beneath your hands, muscles relaxing under your touch. You pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades and held him close, just breathing him in.

“Morning,” you whispered against his back, lips brushing lightly through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Morning,” he said, voice raspy, still tainted with sleep. Quinn tilted his head toward you, his hair brushing your temple. 

You stayed like that for a while, just swaying a little with him in the quiet of the kitchen, before you moved between the counter and his body, arms never leaving his middle. With your head pressed in his chest, you heard it. His heartbeat was fast, racing beneath your ears.

“Quinn,” you said softly, pressing a light kiss to his chest. “Your heart is beating so fast right now.”

He stilled for a moment as he poured coffee in your mug, trying to act casual, but as you slid your hands higher, fingers splaying over his ribs until you could feel his heartbeat stronger, all you could see was the flush in his cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s all you,” he murmured, his arms now wrapping around your shoulders, fingers brushing away a strand of hair from your face. You leaned up to kiss the edge of his jaw, smiling when you felt him shiver.

“You’re still like this? After all this time?” You said with a hint of teasing in your tone as you brushed your nose against his.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly, eyes soft, almost shy.

You smiled, sliding one hand up into his hair, gently combing your fingers through the messy curls at the back of his neck. He sighed as you did it, leaning into your touch with half-lidded eyes. You tugged him closer, brushing your nose against his again, slow and soft.

His slightly shaky hands settled on your hips like they belonged there, thumbs tracing little circles as he smiled faintly. You kissed him once, just a ghost of a touch, then again a little deeper. His breath caught, his fingers flexing at your waist, and when you pulled back just enough to look at him, his lashes fluttered open and his expression was nothing but love.

“I still get nervous,” he admitted, voice low, as if it was something to be embarrassed about. “When you’re close like this.”

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” you said, thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m all yours.”

Quinn rested his forehead against yours as his smile turned a little crooked then, the way it always did when he was fighting not to grin too big. You stayed like that for a while more, not caring that your coffee had gone warm now, and he kissed you again, slow and sweet, his heart still racing under your hands.

[twistedpink]

Hello! I love your writing sm <3

Could I request General!Lilia with that one military graduation tradition where the soldiers are required to stand still and wait for a loved one to touch them so they can move?

Idk if you know what I'm talking about but like here's an example: https://youtube.com/shorts/2142YOyLS8M?si=0xV64So-Sl_YtVSL

Remember to take care of yourself, drink lots and eat lots so you can stay healthy 🫶

I LOVE THESE VIDEOSSSSSS

General!Lilia’s spent his entire deployment thinking of you at home,, How you may want to remarry, and if you haven’t thought of it already you definitely will once you see him. He’s not the same man you married, and he just barely has the courage to admit to himself it scares him- More than any humans or the senate. The thought of you leaving him is terrifying, but he’d understand in the end. He’s been turned into a monster.

General!Lilia that keeps your clothing in pristine condition his entire deployment despite being filthy himself. You’ve done the charity of sending him the blanket from your wedding bed, a couple socks, and the bane of his existence. Your favourite night shirt. He deludes himself to think still smells of you after months of use- It reeks of the outdoors and his sweat and tears, but he’s never failed to bury his nose in it and feel all giddy.. You cared enough to send these mundanities to him, and they’re his greatest treasures. His last (sleeping) night on duty is spent wearing your socks in your shirt wrapped up snug in your blanket. More than anything, they give him strength.

General!Lilia’s lost so much. His troops and friends, his princess, his morals,, His tap out’s done alone, in a field untouched by the war. A pessimistic, realist part of him’s convinced that you’ll never come, that he deserves to rot in this field. If you were to abandon him here, he wouldn’t make it out alive. Not because it’s particularly dangerous,, But because he’d wait as long as it takes for you to be with him again- Even if you’re no longer “his”.

General!Lilia doesn’t blame the hypothetical you in his head for scorning him- Actually, he thinks you aren’t being harsh enough. He hasn’t earned a kiss or gentle touch, he doesn’t deserve your tender affections anymore. Your husband’s a failure. But he can admit he’s good enough to have stayed loyal at least,, No town flower’s tempted him, nor alley specials for soldiers. He’s never considered himself the romantic altruist type, but if you are to hate him, to leave or slander him, he just wants to look at you one last time. Then he wouldn’t have to worry if he’s failed so miserably that even you fell to the conflict.

When you appear out of the thicket, unmarred by the battle and even looking concerned for him, it’s a massive weight off Lilia’s shoulders. The time you take running across the field feels like a lifetime. You look the same as when he left for war.. You know nothing of the things he’s done, the things he can’t undo. He is not the man you knew. He briefly thinks of flying off- He’s had no difficulty when breaking the rules before, so what’s the difference? He’s sure you’d be better off without him. There’s a barely audible thunk against the metal of his armour when your arms are thrown around his neck, hurriedly removing the bloody mask he wears to see his face again. To see your Lilia safe and sound. Once all the pressure’s released, he wants to deflate, wants to collapse in your arms and weep and kiss and love you again despite the angry, violent thing he’s become,, He settles for hugging you back. He can feel you cry at seeing him so defeated, hear your heart race and smell your smell (The shirt doesn’t do you justice). He allows himself to breathe you in. It’s time to go home <3

@bju3c0re

[disaster-guys]

So, someone just liked this post from forever ago, and I realized that I never posted that I did actually end up writing something for one of these! It’s short, but I thought I’d share :}

I love you. Please don’t forget that. by me (booksy_bombus) on ao3, fic under the cut as well

@t1oui thanks for reminding me this existed, tagging you in case you wanted to read it :}

(since I now have a side blog for jercy I’m rebloging from here instead of main)

Jason hugged Percy’s back, head resting above his boyfriend’s hoping he could provide the other with comfort that he knew his words wouldn’t manage. Percy was shaken by the nightmare Jason had woken him out of but he wouldn’t talk about it. Jason knew most nightmares were memories, he wondered what this one might be that had Percy curled into himself, unwilling to talk.

—//—

“Jason, did you- in the first war did you have to kill-”

Jason felt Percy’s head turn against his chest, he felt the son of Poseidon pulling away. Jason wrapped his arms around him and pulled Percy closer, the demigod was rigid and shaking with unshed tears.

“Did you kill other demigods?”

Jason pulled Percy tight to his chest. “Oh gods Percy…” he breathed his frightened words into the black hair of his boyfriend.

His words trembled and he really wished they wouldn’t, “No. No, the titans didn’t recruit any Romans. I had heard that- I heard that one man was possessed by Kronos and that he died for the demigods’ cause.”

“Luke,” he sniffed, “he died," Percy swallowed, "he died a hero. He was supposed to be Kronos’ new body. Our downfall." After a shuttering inhale he continued, "He had the Achilles curse, he was impossible to win against. Luke took control from Kronos at the last minute, I still remember his eyes. They were so blue, so full of determination, full of tears. He stabbed himself. I was there, Annabeth convinced him to do it. I helped.” Percy swallowed again, Jason was running a hand through Percy’s hair, and he could feel the tears on his face.

“I also had the Achilles curse, you know, and Luke wasn’t the only one fighting for Kronos. His ranks were mostly monsters but my friends were there too, people I had known, even some that I didn't—people who'd been at camp and I hadn't even taken the time to learn their names. I- with the Achilles curse- I hardly even remember fighting. I was there and I was mad. They were taking the lives and peace of my friends, so," Percy let out a wet sob and Jason felt as his boyfriend shivered against him, "I killed. Riptide was in my hand, nobody could land a blow, and I left blood in my wake Jason.

“Monsters don’t bleed. Sometimes I think that they do though. Those kids weren’t but sometimes-”

Percy was shaking hard and started to really cry. Sobs that hurt to hear, heart-wrenching and quiet, gasps of shaking breath and coughing when his throat couldn’t handle the strain of muting the sounds.

“Don’t dare finish that sentence Jackson. I don’t care if you bleed gold or red or any other fucking color. I just want you in my arms and I want, god fucking damnit Percy, I want,” Jason rolled Percy over so they faced each other and hugged Percy to his chest, “I want you to be happy. You didn’t deserve any of this, neither of us did and you can’t blame yourself for a damn thing the gods decide to pull puppet strings on.”

Percy rolled until he was on top and wrapped his arms around Jason burying his face into his warm chest.

“I just- Percy, I love you. Please don’t forget that.”

flower language prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

❀ calla lily (beauty) — “you’re so beautiful.”

❀ aloe (affection, also grief) — “i miss them so much.”

❀ basil (good wishes) — “i just want the best for you.”

❀ begonia (beware) — “just be careful, okay?”

❀ gardenia (secret love) — “i don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it.”

❀ red chrysanthemum (i love you) — “i love you. please don’t forget that.”

❀ red columbine (anxiety) — “can you hold my hand? please?”

❀ daffodil (unequaled love) — “no one will ever come close to you.”

❀ edelweiss (courage, devotion) — “touch them again and i promise, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

❀ candytuft (indifference) — “i said that i didn’t care, but i lied.”

❀ holly (domestic happiness) — “i never want to leave this bed.”

❀ myrtle (marriage) — “i can’t believe it. we’re really married!”

❀ oak (strength) — “you’re stronger than you think.”

❀ aster (symbol of love, daintiness) — “i’m not fragile, y’know.”

❀ arborvitae (unchanging friendship) — “i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.��

❀ blue salvia (i think of you) — “here. this made me think of you.”

❀ yarrow (everlasting love) — “i don’t think i’ll ever stop loving you.”

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS React to a Reader with a Skin Condition

Request: Anon- Would you be comfortable writing headcanons about how the boys would react to you having skin problems? Like acne and eczema. I get really self conscious about my skin and I just feel like they’d know just what to say.Whether or not you choose to write this thank you for taking the time to read this. I really appreciate all you do, you’re an incredibly talented writer and you’re such a wonderful part of this community. 💕

AN: Hi anon, thanks for requesting! As someone with psoriasis this is close to home. I hope you like this >< evil laughter because I changed the OG reaction order

Pairing: LaDS boys x fem reader

Ingredients: 90% comfort, 10% sulking

My Fav: None. I felt writer's block writing this :(

Caleb:

He’d seen you grow up with psoriasis.

He remembers the way you never let go of your long sleeves. The way your friends’ eyes lingered in the summer, glancing at your covered arms with quiet curiosity. The way your smile would dim when someone’s gaze lingered too long.

Hell, he was the one who held you when you sobbed, terrified before every new school year. The one who sat with you in silence while you rubbed at your sleeves until the fabric thinned.

But he had also seen you change. Watched as long sleeves were traded for shorter ones. Saw how you learned to love your skin through the endless cycle of steroids, topicals, and shots.

Flare-up or not, you were strong. You became more than the spots on your skin. And he was proud.

The person he once comforted no longer needed saving. You had learned to love yourself.

But even now, if you stumbled, if you slipped, he’d still be there. Not because you needed him. But because he never stopped wanting to stand beside you.

And when you catch him watching you, when you raise an eyebrow and say “What?” he just smiles.

"Nothing." He wraps his arms around you, his hands mapping your arms with utmost focus. He watches the way you don’t flinch anymore. The way you let him touch you without hesitation.

"You’re just beautiful."

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush. He sees the quiet pleasure in the smile on your lips.

"I mean it." His pulls you closer, against his chest, burying his face in your shoulder.

Zayne:

He held your hands, applying the topical carefully. His fingers moved slowly, brushing over the irritated skin with quiet precision. Your fingers twitched in his grasp, skin red and peeling. It looked painful.

Just a night out had done this. The restaurant soap had reacted poorly.

And now here you both were.

"I'm sorry, Zayne. I was stupid." You whisper, trying to pull your hands back. "I ruined our plans."

His grip tightens slightly, keeping you from slipping away. His breath steadies as he rests his forehead against yours. Warm. Soft. Familiar.

"You have nothing to apologize for." His arms circle around you, pulling you carefully into his lap. His hand slides to your wrist, thumb brushing over the curve of your pulse.

He blows gently over the drying cream on your skin. His breath ghosts over your fingers, the warmth easing the sting.

"I prefer this." His lips brush your temple. "How else do I get to hold you like this?"

Your breath hitches. His mouth curves faintly against your cheek.

"And kiss you however much I want?"

You laugh weakly. "You’re ridiculous."

"Probably." His lips trail down the side of your face, soft and deliberate. His touch light and careful as he smooths over the cream.

"But you think too much." His forehead presses against yours. "You didn’t ruin anything."

"Zayne, it was your time off in so long, and we-"

His fingers lace between yours. His thumb strokes along your palm, calm, steady. "I’d rather be here with you, holding you, than anywhere else."

You close your eyes, breath slowing beneath the weight of him.

"So stop apologizing." His voice drops to a whisper. His mouth hovers over yours. "You’re already giving me exactly what I want."

Rafayel:

He finds you crouched in the closet. Crying. Clothes scattered around you in every direction.

"I look awful." You look at him tearfully. "Everything looks terrible with the breakout. I can't go to your exhibition, Rafayel."

Your face crumples, eyes red and swollen. Your period isn’t helping, it makes you even more susceptible to unwarranted emotional breakdowns every passing hour. You bury your face in a dress and sob like a kicked puppy.

Rafayel stands there for a second, his brow furrowing. Then he sighs and sinks down beside you, his knees brushing against yours.

His hands rise to your face, caressing your cheek with care. "My bodyguard always looks the most beautiful." He tilts your chin to kiss the tears away.

"Don't kiss me, I feel gross." You try to pull away. "And look at all this acne. How can you even...?"

"I'm not kissing the acne." Rafayel smiles faintly. His eyes soften as he takes in the sight in front of him. "I'm kissing you, you dummy."

"And right now?" His grin sharpens as he leans back slightly. "You look adorable."

"I can’t go to the exhibit, Rafayel." You whine annoyed by the sound of your own voice as overstimulation crowed your senses.

"Good." His voice is lazy, his arms sliding beneath your legs. Without warning, he lifts you effortlessly, adjusting you against his chest like you weigh nothing.

"Rafayel this is ridiculous." You bury your face in his chest.

"Shhh." He silences your protests with a peck to your lips. His arms tighten around you, carrying you toward the bed.

"You know how much I hate those things." His tone is light, but his hand slips beneath the curve of your knee, holding you securely. His mouth skims the side of your temple. "Honestly, you just gave me the best excuse to skip."

"But..."

"Nope." He sets you down on the bed, brushing your hair back from your face. "We’re staying in."

He slides in beside you, one arm looping beneath your shoulders. His hand splays low across your back, pulling you closer.

"If you feel awful, the least you can do is suffer with me." His mouth tilts against your temple. "And if you think this breakout makes you less beautiful, I guess I’m going to have to kiss you until you figure out how wrong you are."

"Starting now." He pulls you into an onslaught of kisses.

Sylus:

You drag another air purifier into the room, sneezing hard enough to make your head spin.

"God, this sucks." You flop onto the floor between the circle of purifiers, rubbing at the irritated skin of your neck. "How did natural selection fail this badly?"

Your breath hitches, throat burning. You close your eyes. Maybe if you just stay here, the purifiers will summon clean air or a new respiratory system.

That’s when you feel him.

"Did I interrupt your ritual, darling?"

You crack an eye open. Sylus stands above you, arms crossed, looking thoroughly amused.

"This is serious." You sniff, voice wrecked.

"Sure it is." He crouches down, invading your circle of air purifiers. "Should I sacrifice a goat or something?"

"You could bring me a tissue."

Sylus grins. "Or…" His hands slip beneath your arms, lifting you effortlessly. "I could just kidnap you and nurse you back to health myself."

"Sylus, what are you...?"

Without a word, he drops you onto the couch, pressing his hand against your forehead. His eyes narrow. "Hm. You might not survive the night."

"Stop it,"

"I’ll have to keep you in bed." His mouth curves wickedly. "For observation."

"Sylus!" You protest, trying to get up.

"No talking. Doctor’s orders."

His lips press against your burning cheek. His hand slides through your hair, nuzzling into you. His smile softens at the sound of your stuffy breath.

"Just relax." His voice lowers. "I’ve got you."

Xavier:

"You don’t have to stay." You reason trying to get your boyfriend out of your misery cave. "You’re tired. You’ve been running around all day."

"So?" His voice is quiet.

You glance at him through swollen eyes. Your skin is blotchy from the allergic reaction, red patches climbing up your neck and across your cheeks. You feel gross.

"So you don’t have to deal with this."

Xavier sinks down onto the floor beside you, resting his head on the bed where you lay draped. His gaze drops to the irritated skin on your throat.

"I’m not here because I have to." His hand lifts, hesitates, then curls gently around your hand. His thumb traces the tender skin of your palm.

"You look uncomfortable." You wince, voice thin.

"Yeah. I am." His smile is faint, almost fragile. "Because I hate seeing you like this."

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off.

"Not because of how you look." His hand rises to your neck, cupping it carefully. His thumb brushes over a reddened patch of skin. His eyes darken. "Because I hate not knowing how to make it better."

"It’s just allergies."

"I know." His breath steadies. His eyes soften. "But I still wish I could fix it."

"You’re not going to scare me off." His voice drops lower. "You don’t have to look perfect for me to stay."

"But I feel—"

"I know." His thumb brushes your cheekbone. His breath catches as your gaze meets his. "Stay with me anyway."

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 !

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡ you've managed to snag the man of your dreams and things can't be better. however, having your heart race 24/7 is a borderline inhumane feeling but you would not trade it for the world.

and you know what? neither would he.

yandere! honkai star rail! x yandere! reader. (ana's faves. as per usual.)

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐮𝐚𝐧.

He truly was like a fairytale come to life. How else could one man be so otherworldly handsome?

You would say that to Jing Yuan over and over as you would sit in his pretty garden as the ravishing flowers kept you hidden from any prying eyes. The man would nestle himself comfortably anywhere he could, as long as you had your arms wrapped around him he really did not care for the position he was in.

It was so hard to control yourself. How could you possibly keep your cool around him, especially whenever he would start looking at you with those dreamy eyes? Sometimes in the heat of the moment you would curse him, tell him that it's all his fault for making you feel like this, that he was to blame for slowly turning you into such a bitter person.

The General was incredibly popular on the Lofu, it was only natural for him to have his fair share of fans and admirers. You would force yourself to smile through it all, to grit your teeth as all his adoring fans would sell countless photos of him and you would always try so hard to cling onto his arm whenever you'd spot a camera nearby.

Vultures, the lot of them. If you could have it your way, they would all be tossed into outer space and never be seen again. White hot rage bubbled deep inside your soul at the prospect of anyone thinking themselves good enough to steal him away from you but those people would only meet the sharp end of your wrath.

It was their choice whether or not there would be a peaceful resolution.

However, the moment he placed a soothing hand on your cheek all of that rage would subside to joy. Anger turned to passion, bitterness became sweetness and Jing Yuan could not be more happy at the thought that he had you wrapped around his little finger.

He was a lucky man. He was going to cherish you until his dying breath.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲.

Soft inklings of delicate candlelight broke through the dark room as you ran your fingers sweetly through Sunday's hair. His head lay still in your lap, face pressed deeply into your thighs as his arms nestled themselves around your body, a silent plea for you to not leave. His grip was tighter than iron as he groaned, the tension in his shoulders melting away like ice in heat.

Whatever was he going to do without you? How could he even live if you were not there by his side?

Such cursed thoughts simply must be banished from his worried mind. For if he were to think too hard about those nightmares, his despair might just swallow him whole.

He could feel your lovesick gaze, a stark contrast to the delicate touch of your fingers as they grazed his scalp. There were times when you would trap him in your embrace and whisper things to him, things that should horrify any sane person. You'd utter your devotion to him like a prayer, chanting endless spells of your bottomless love and devotion and instead of stopping you, he would allow you to speak your mind as his own would simply cease to work.

If there was the option, you'd devour him whole. That way he could never leave you, or so you would like to say.

And the idea of that, it... It was strangely appealing to him. It was the one cage he would never dare to break.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐣𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮.

Soft pink hair dominated your vision as the scent of spices overpowered the rest of your senses, much to the cheeky foxian's delight. You shared a bed with him as his pretty tail wrapped itself around your waist, thwarting any possible escape attempts. With a chuckle you inched closer and pressed your lips on his temple, to which Jiaoqiu hummed in delight.

As per usual, you made no moves to leave.

Good, he thought to himself as his fingernails dug into your flesh, just barely enough so that it doesn't hurt. His tail fluttered with content as birds chirped happily outside the window, the gentle rays of sunlight cascading down on the pair as they reveled in their sweet bliss.

For a brief second, Jiaoqiu could not help but to think of the whispers others would share amongst themselves, how they would judge him and his darling, how twisted and wrong their whole relationship was..

How can something that feels so sweet be so wrong? How can someone who makes him feel alive and loved be disgusting in the eyes of others?

Fools. Each and every one of them. Blind fools who could not see true love even if it hit them square in the jaw.

They were not important, none of them. As long as he had you in his arms, his soul could rest.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧.

The crackling flames roared with hunger beside you as you skimmed through the seemingly endless gifts of devotion your dearly beloved seemed to get on a nearly daily basis.

A deep frown etched itself on your red tinted lips as you carelessly threw another letter into the orange fire, not giving a damn about the person who wrote it nor their feelings. Who did they think they were, trying to so carelessly throw their own personal longing onto your beloved Phainon?

Wickedness became second nature to you once you had managed to snag the handsome Chrysos Heir all for yourself. The mere thought of other people wanting him, touching him, looking at him... It made your stomach churn with nausea.

It was all too common for Phainon to receive gifts and words of praise and it was just something one had to grow accustomed to if they planned to stand by his side. But by the stars, the way in which you would burn with jealousy could almost be studied.

You could not allow Phainon to see this side of you.

What would he think of you then? Resting your arms against the messy table you sigh, mind pondering on all of the various scenarios of your lover becoming horrified with this newfound twisted nature of yours... Completely oblivious to the shadow which loomed on the balcony, his body hidden by the massive white pillars as gorgeous blooms came to life.

It was as if they were matching his own personal excitement, their wonderful colours signaling all of his own feelings.

Love, obsession, devotion, need - these were all things that Phainon fought with daily. Sometimes he would grant himself the luxury of indulgence - keeping you in the bath longer with him, making up some excuse on why you should stay in his room, that it's fine if he wants to feed you... He wondered if you went along with it just to keep the peace, to ensure his happiness which was in its own way cute but...

Never in his wildest dreams could Phainon have predicted that you would return his intense feelings. If he could, he would carve out his own heart right then and there and give it to you, the chunk of flesh beating joyfully as he would get on his knees and present it to you with his outstretched, bloodied hands, his lips twisted into a loopy grin.

And he now knew that he would never have to worry ever again. Your love has been secured, your devotion is being kept under lock and key and it was all in the palm of his hand.

I wrote this very, very, very quickly, which I feel as though is super obvious. Still, it was super fun to tackle... Mutual obsession is just such a cute concept, no? And I wasn't feeling too inspired for Jiaoqiu's part, oops. It's just that, I feel like he would be the most "normal" one in this specific scenario, y'know? I also wrote this whole thing backwards for some reason??? Like, I didn't start with Jing, I actually started doing Phainon first.

This little playlist was also lovely to listen to as I was writing. What a wonderful way to spend my rainy Sunday afternoon. Also, I'm half way through the first season of Fruits Basket! It's such a cute little show and I'm watching the 2019 version!!

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialist)

Chapter 2: Cinderella

series masterlist

Chapter Summary: You didn't expect things to turn out this way when you agreed to go on a second date with Harry. You can’t deny your feelings for him, but now you have a tough choice to make. His great personality makes every moment feel like a fairytale, but deep down, you know it has to end eventually. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, piv sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance Chapter Word Count: 7k, oops (next chapter will be intense one) authors note: I'm so glad you all showed so much love and interest in this story! Thanks a ton, everyone!

In the morning—just like every other morning—you put on your housekeeper's uniform and got yourself ready for the day. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a sigh. The fancy dress you wore last night was tossed over the chair behind you, a total contrast to the outfit you had on now. You smiled at your reflection, thinking about how nice it was to wear something elegant, even if it was just for a little while. But then, reality hit you, and you sighed again, remembering what had happened the night before.

Your phone buzzed as you pulled your hair back to put it in a bun. But before you could grab your phone, there was a knock on the door. One of the other housekeeper girls peeked in and gave you a look. You could tell right away that Melanie had sent her.

“She wants to see you,” she said with a nervous grin.

“Of course she does,” you muttered, walking over to your bedside table to get your phone. Before stepping out, you unlocked it to check the latest message. You usually kept in touch with your cousin Zoe, who lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn. She was the only one who reached out from time to time. It had been months since you last saw her, and it had been three years since you saw your parents, who lived in the countryside of Atlanta. However, that was okay; you and your dad had never really gotten along after your mom passed away. 

But the message wasn’t from Zoe; it came from a random number. You opened the notification and saw:

“Morning, kitty. Starting my day by hoping yours goes well.” 

It took a second for it to click who it was. 

Harry. 

Seriously? “Kitty?” He was something else, alright.

Just then, you heard Melanie’s voice squeaking out your name—like always. You weren’t in the mood to deal with Harry's message anyway, so you stuck your phone in your pocket and left the room.

Harry held his phone in one hand while sipping his morning coffee in his penthouse apartment, which offered a glorious view of New York. He was so eager for your message that he hadn’t even noticed his personal assistant, Oliver, had arrived.

“Earth to Harry,” Oliver said, snapping his fingers to get his attention.

Harry looked up, set his cup down on the counter, and leaned back in his chair. “Hey, Ollie.”

“Is there a problem? Is it bad news from the market?” Oliver asked.

Harry took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Never mind.”

"Looks like you haven't had time to settle in yet, huh?" Oliver commented, glancing around the flat. "Some cleaning staff from the company will be here this afternoon. I've also arranged for you to see Hudson before lunch, as you requested."

“Great, thanks,” Harry muttered, still focused on his phone, a frown on his face.

“Oh, by the way, the matchmaker called me. She wants to know how last night’s date went.”

Harry checked his watch, clearly disinterested. “Nineteen minutes. She must’ve seen my message but still hasn’t replied.”

“What did you even say? Harry Castillo waiting for a text back from a girl? Someone pinch me,” Oliver mocked, widening his eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Was your date really that amazing? You weren’t so hyped about it before you left.”

He knew Oliver was right. This was only his second date since coming back from France, and he was starting to feel a bit desperate.

“So I guess miracles do happen,” Harry said with a grin.

Oliver folded his arms and leaned against the counter, looking bewildered. “Are you serious? You didn’t even like that girl’s résumé. You said, if I remember correctly, ‘It seems like a waste of time, but I’ll give it a shot.’”

“Even great Harry Castillo can be wrong sometimes,” Harry replied, grinning as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Wow, that’s definitely not like you, man. What did she do to you?”

Harry smiled. “I don’t know, but whatever she did, I want her to do more.”

“You’ll see her again, then. Should I cancel the other dates, or do you still want to give them a shot?” he asked.

Harry stood up, took his jacket off the chair, and put it on. “Cancel them all. In fact, I want you to clear my schedule for the next three days.”

Oliver knew what that meant. It was the same way Harry had acted the last time he had a crush on someone—clearing his entire schedule for a few days for that special girl. But, in the end, she wasn't the one. He just hoped this wouldn’t end the same way this time; he didn’t want to see him heartbroken again.

"He wants to go on a second date?" Melanie's voice echoed through the room—no, the entire mansion.

"For the fifth time, I'm answering your question. Yes, he does," you said with a grunt.

She stared at you. "Oh wow, look at her. She can joke too!"

"It wasn't a joke, but whatever," you replied, crossing your arms.

"Stop it and tell me how to get out of this," she barked.

"Should I tell you? It wasn't even my plan."

"My plan was solid until you messed it up," Melanie complained as she paced around the room.

"Is it my fault the guy likes me? I told you, this was a risky game from the start."

Melanie stopped and squinted at you. "Do you like him or something? Maybe you were flirting with him."

You laughed hysterically. "Flirting? Believe me, what I did was far from flirting."

Melanie took a moment to think before starting to pace again. "Ugh! Why then? Is it because of my name? Yeah, gotta be. He’s smart; he knows my dad is a big deal. Maybe he’s just after a marriage of convenience."

For some reason, that sounded ridiculous to you. If Harry was like that, he would have married another businessman's daughter a long time ago. He wasn’t the type to be rejected, both for financial reasons and due to his personality. He was a wonderful person. Wait a minute—why were you suddenly thinking that? Did you really hold feelings for him? No, that couldn’t be right. Besides, you needed to focus on solving the problem at hand. But then you suddenly recalled the moment he kissed you; the way his lips brushed against yours, the warmth of his hand on your skin—it was an unforgettable feeling and—

"Aren't you listening to me?" Melanie's squeal pulled you back to reality. 

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about how to get out of this," you lied. 

"There’s only one way out, and we have to do it fast, or this is going to get out of hand. Dad will be leaving for Europe this afternoon and will be away for a few days. We need to sort this out while he's gone."

That was good news, but you were still uncertain about when Harry would take you on a second date. You hoped it would be this week. Melanie picked up her phone and dialed someone. "Nate, I need you to do something for me. Meet me tonight."

Nate. 

He was Melanie's friend who always cleaned up after her, another guy with a wealthy father. Nate's father was a media mogul, and thanks to him, Melanie's dad, Jack, had managed to keep his daughter's many scandals away from the paparazzi and out of the press—that's how powerful Nate's father was. However, you really didn't like Nate. He was a wild card, the type who would hit on anything that moved. You definitely didn't want to meet him.

Fortunately, Melanie was meeting him at the club tonight, as she often did. Before she left, she warned you to find out when Harry was taking you on your next date.

You might have thought that Jack leaving the mansion would give you a sigh of relief, but his wife was even harder to deal with. She was hardly ever around, typically ignoring her daughter, yet they shared a strange closeness. They seemed more like friends than mother and daughter. Melanie had adopted all her mother’s habits. However, what her mother wanted from you was different.

“Shouldn't you be the one convincing Melanie to meet that guy? Do you have any idea who Harry Castillo is? Ugh, who am I talking to? Of course, you don't. I would love for him to be my son-in-law; it would be so good for our family. Just imagine the look on those snooty society women’s faces when they find out he’s marrying Melanie!"

She went on and on. You had to nod in response to her accusatory speeches; if you said anything negative or, heaven forbid, argued with her, she would start insulting you. Yes, this woman seemed to be aware of everything her daughter did, yet she never found fault with her. You were always the one to blame. Normally, she wouldn’t have engaged in such a long conversation with you, and you were usually thankful for that, but it seemed she was taking advantage of her husband’s absence to be bossy. It stung your pride, and in moments like those, all you wanted was to quit and leave without looking back. But you endured it patiently, surprising even yourself. Over time, you developed a method to pretend you had imaginary headphones in your ears, listening to your favorite music while this woman scolded you. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with you.

When you finally got to your room, hoping for some peace, you undid your hair bun, letting your hair fall over your shoulders, and lay down on your bed. You took your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it. Another text was sent from Harry’s number at 5:09 PM.

"Gosh, Melanie, so you do like to talk.”

You could almost hear his voice in your head as you read the message and grinned to yourself. But then you decided to call him—not because you missed his voice -of course you did- but because you thought it wasn’t fair to leave him hanging. You needed to find out when he was planning to ask you out again.

It rang a few times, and Harry answered. "The person you're calling is unavailable at the moment, perhaps because you didn't answer his morning message." he sounded mocking and a little offended.

You couldn’t help but giggle and decided to keep it fun. “Should I just hang up then—”

“No, no, no! Please don’t hang up,” he quickly replied, his tone softening. You giggled again and heard him let out a sigh. “I heard your beautiful laugh, so I’m not upset anymore.”

You didn’t respond, but you were smiling. “Well, I didn’t reply because you called me ‘kitty.’ It sounded like you were talking to your cat.”

"That's what I was doing, kitty." He laughed.

“Seriously? Still?” you groaned playfully. “I have a name,” you said, wishing he actually knew your real name.

“But you looked just like a kitten when you were devouring that dessert, licking your lips and fingers.”

Ugh, did he really have to remind you of that? 

“And I can’t forget the way your sweet tongue touched mine.”

You swallowed, and you knew he could probably hear it on the other end of the line.

“Anyway, get ready Wednesday morning; I’ll come pick you up,” he said after a pause.

“Oh, wow. Thanks for the heads-up, Mr. Castillo.”

You heard him chuckle. “Did that sound a little bossy to you?”

“A little,” you admitted, smirking, feeling like he was right there with you instead of on the phone.

“Alright, let me give it another shot,” he said, clearing his throat. “Miss. Johnson, I was thinking of coming to pick you up Wednesday morning if you're free.” His sarcasm was so endearing, you couldn’t help but crack up.

“I know, fail on my part, right? What can I say? I don’t usually talk like that.” You were still laughing, and Harry was smiling along, enjoying your laughter. “If you’re going to laugh like that, then I should talk like this all the time.”

But then your smile faded; every time he complimented you, it hit you with guilt and embarrassment. The reason you met him, your whole situation, was a reminder that knocked you hard each time.

“Anyway, it’s probably time for you to sleep. Be a good girl and get to bed early.”

“Oh, are you gonna give me candy too, mister?” you teased back.

“I can give you all the candy in the world, just say the word, sweet girl.” His tone felt really sincere, and something inside you believed he could actually do it. 

Why was your heart racing all of a sudden?

"Good night, Melanie," he said, and another truth came to the surface that hit you like a slap in the face.

You just mumbled as you hung up the phone, "Good night Harry.”

You lay in bed for a while, phone in hand. This was not a time for dreaming or getting excited. This was not your life; you weren’t Melanie, the rich girl with a millionaire father living in luxury. When Harry discovered the truth, you knew you would be worthless in his eyes. You couldn't blame him; you wanted this and had to face the consequences. You only wished you hadn’t fallen in love with him; otherwise, you knew you would be the one hurt the most at the end of this story. 

You had never been in love before. In fact, you always thought love was something exaggerated. The relationship between your mom and dad was based on respect and loyalty—always had been. Years ago, before starting this job, you had ended a toxic relationship and moved to New York. You felt free and happy to have escaped it. You promised yourself that when you came to New York, you would shed your southern accent, improve yourself, find a proper job, and start saving money to fulfill your dreams. You were determined not to let any man into your life for a while, but you never anticipated things would unfold like this.

Rolling over in bed, you buried your face in the pillow and moaned. Why did it have to be here and not at some other rich family’s place on the Upper East Side? Just then, something happened to justify your misery: your phone rang. You instinctively knew that only one thing could call you at this hour—trouble. Melanie was out again, and you knew she was in trouble before you even answered the phone.

“Melanie?” you said.

“It’s Nate. Babe, I need you to get over here ASAP. Melanie’s totally wasted, and we had a fight. You’ve gotta pick her up and take her home.”

Babe? 

Of course, it was Nate. You sighed and pressed the phone to your forehead. “Fine, I’m on my way,” you grumbled through clenched teeth.

This was nothing new; you’d picked her up from clubs, rescued her after fights, and kept her out of the paparazzi’s sight. You’d gotten pretty good at all of it.

You quickly opened your wardrobe to change, slipping on some jeans and a blouse, fixing your hair, and leaving your room while muttering and swearing under your breath.

When the driver brought you to the club, you felt a wave of nervousness upon seeing the paparazzi gathered at the entrance. Fortunately, you were accustomed to entering through the back door of such venues, where security was stationed, and you had often seen many famous faces. The driver was familiar with the routine, so you told him to wait with the engine running while you stepped out of the car. After explaining the situation to security, you headed inside. The moment you entered, the volume of the music surged, making it difficult to hear your own voice.

As soon as you spotted Nate, you made your way over to him, pushing a few people aside in the process. You noticed Melanie was barely conscious, her head bobbing from side to side. Nate was struggling to hold her up, so you slipped under her other arm to help.

“Why'd you let her drink so much?” you whispered, trying to keep Melanie steady.

Nate shot you a confused look. “Seriously, babe? Don't act like you don't know her.”

“Whatever, the car's waiting outside,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Okay, let’s get this wasted girl out of here,” he replied.

You both managed to get outside, but your heart nearly stopped when you spotted Harry across the street by his car.

“Crap, let’s turn around,” you said, quickly pulling Melanie to the other side of the street.

“What the hell is going on?” Nate asked, annoyed.

“Harry's here,” you explained.

He glanced over and swore. “What’s he doing here?”

“Hell if I know,” you muttered.

A moment later, a guy and a girl stepped out of the same door you had come through and walked over to Harry. The girl looked just as drunk as Melanie, and to your shock, she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck.

What the hell?

Harry said something to her, helped her into his car, and then hopped in beside her. The guy must’ve been his driver; he got in the front, started the car, and they sped off.

Nate snickered. “Looks like Harry Castillo’s on the prowl. Nice. I envy him.”

You shot him a glare. Just then, Melanie threw her head back, moaned, and violently vomited on Nate. 

Nate screamed in disgust, “Damn it, Mel! Ugh, that's disgusting!”

“Good riddance,” you said with a chuckle, wrapping your other arm around Melanie's waist while you ignored Nate’s curses as you led her to the car.

You woke up feeling a bit down. You’d stayed up way too late the night before dealing with Melanie, and seeing Harry with another woman was really bothering you. It kinda sucked, but shouldn’t you feel relieved? After all, things weren’t serious between you two. Harry was a good-looking guy, and of course, there would always be women around—that was just how it went. But how could he tell you to hit the sack early and then go out to a nightclub? It didn’t seem fair. 

But who were you to judge him, right? Maybe you should’ve just taken it as a sign to end things for good after that second date. That way, you wouldn’t have felt so sympathetic toward him, and you could have ended it decisively. Yeah, you definitely should’ve done that.

You got out of bed, put on your uniform, and styled your hair. Just as you were putting your shoes on, your phone buzzed with a message. Like yesterday, it was from Harry:  

“Wish I could be holding you this morning.” 

You sighed, whispering to yourself, “Oh, I bet you held someone else last night, didn’t you, Harry?”

You tucked the phone into your pocket, but another message arrived:

“Are you missing me? Yes or yes.”  

You couldn’t help but smile and decided to tease him back.  

“You know there are letters N and O in the alphabet.”  

A few minutes later, came his reply:  

“I’ll erase them from today.”  

How could he flirt with you while he was with another woman? Could there have been a misunderstanding? 

When you heard your name called, you stuffed your phone back into your pocket and headed out. After giving Melanie's mom the scoop on last night, you jumped into your usual tasks. You were called to help the cook in the kitchen. This happened a lot; Danilo, the Italian chef, was an amateur, but he knew his way around food.

"I'm telling you, girl, you should quit this job and start that bakery of yours. You have natural talent," he said as you sat at the counter, enjoying the sesame bread you had just baked.  

"Soon, Danilo, very soon," you replied with a smile.  

One of the girls walked into the kitchen. “Danilo, Mrs. Johnson says her eggs are too greasy. She’s watching her calories and wants them cooked low fat again.” 

Danilo sighed and muttered something in his native language. “Maybe you can take me with you when you open that bakery restaurant? Please?” he suggested, looking at you.  

You nodded, “With pleasure, chef.” You gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and helped him prepare the eggs. 

After you took a tray to the mother and daughter having breakfast outside, your phone buzzed again. Just as you came back inside and picked it up, you heard the elevator ding downstairs. One of the housekeepers was taking a big black box with a red ribbon from a delivery guy—it was probably another delivery for Melanie or her mom, like always. But then you checked your phone and saw Harry’s message:  

“Can’t wait to see it on you.”  

You paused for a moment, then turned around and stopped the housekeeper. 

“Let me see it for a minute,” you said, examining the box. It was labeled Ralph Lauren, and a card was pinned under the ribbon. You gasped as you read the carefully written words on the card: 

For my kitty. 

“I'll take this,” you said, reaching for the box. 

The girl shrugged and handed it to you. She was accustomed to this kind of situation, but what she didn’t know was that this box had been sent to you. You felt a thrill of excitement as you walked to your room, cradling the box in your arms. There had to be an elegant dress inside. 

“Hey, stop right there!” 

That was Melanie. You did what she said and turned around, feeling a bit annoyed. Her eyes went wide when she saw the box. 

“Where do you think you’re taking that? Bring it here!” 

“It’s from Mr. Castillo; he must have sent it for the date tomorrow,” you mumbled. 

Ignoring your tone, Melanie quickly tugged at the ribbon and opened the box. 

“Oh my God! This is from the new season! It's part of the special collection! It was in the fashion show in Paris just a few weeks ago!” She pulled out the stunning black dress and held it up. “This is amazing! I have to try it on right now!” 

“But he sent it for me,” you said, frowning. 

“So?” 

“It would be rude not to wear the dress meant for me.” 

“That’s exactly what we’re looking for, silly, let it be,” she said, zipping the dress up and slipping it on. “Oh, the fabric feels incredible.” 

You couldn’t remember a time when her words or actions had hurt you this much. You swallowed hard, trying to keep all the nasty things you wanted to say to her. “So what am I supposed to wear? The great Melanie needs to wear something elegant, right?” 

She narrowed her eyes at you, looking slightly annoyed. The dress was a little loose on her. You definitely had a fuller figure than she did, and you knew you’d look way better in that dress. Maybe that was why she seemed upset. 

“I’ll let you borrow one of the Pradas I got for my birthday last month,” she said before heading over to show her mom the dress. You just stared at her, and then your gaze dropped to the card in your hand, reading again the words that Harry wrote for you. 

For my kitty. 

Wednesday morning rolled around, and you were feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. The dress Melanie had given you after swiping yours wasn’t as bad as the other one he sent, but it wasn’t great either. It was strapless, a bit tight, and super long, making it tricky to walk comfortably—you could totally see why Melanie had tossed it aside. After getting yourself ready, you checked your bag and saw a text from Harry: 

"I’m outside. Don’t keep me waiting too long, beautiful."

Your heart began to race, and you could practically hear it thumping in your ears. Before you left the house, Melanie handed you a fancy jacket and reminded you, "When you get back, make sure to get rid of him for good." Her words echoed in your mind as you stepped out of the lift. This time, it would definitely be over—but not in the way she intended. You needed to act mature and honest, like a responsible woman. Regardless of what happened, you had to keep your guard up and not let your emotions show.

When you walked out the door, you froze. Harry was leaning against his car, holding a bouquet of pink roses. The moment he saw you, a huge smile lit up his face. When he spotted you, a huge smile spread across his handsome face. So much for not letting your guard down. All the resolutions you had made moments ago felt fragile, carried away by a light breeze.

As you approached him, you felt those promises fading one by one. Your heart raced to the point that it overshadowed your thoughts. When you reached him, his smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. "Hi, beautiful," he said, handing you the flowers. You smiled and accepted them. 

“Thanks, that’s really sweet,” you replied, enjoying their scent.

Harry paused for a moment, checking you out. His expression changed a bit. “You know, you look fantastic just the way you are, but I have to ask—did you not like the dress I sent you?”

There it was—the question you had been expecting. It was tough to lie when you had so much on your mind. You wanted to say everything to him, everything, but you just couldn't, and you hated that.

“Harry, the dress was really pretty, and I liked it a lot, but I’m so clumsy. I spilled coffee on it, and I'm really sorry.” You looked down, feeling embarrassed.

Harry frowned when he saw the look on your face and grabbed your hand. With his other hand, he opened the car door for you. 

“Get in, kitty; we’ll grab you a new one,” he said, helping you in and shutting the door behind you. He quickly walked around to the driver’s seat, buckled up, and started the engine. 

“Honestly, you don’t need to do that,” you said as you put your seatbelt on. 

“The most important thing you should know about me, sweet girl,” he said, grinning as he began to drive, “is that I always follow through with what I promise.” He winked at you, pressing the gas pedal and speeding down the road. 

“So where are you taking me?” you asked. 

“I’d rather hear your guesses,” he replied with a grin. 

“Considering how fancy the dress was, it has to be the nicest brunch spot in New York,” you guessed. 

He chuckled. “Nope, wrong answer, sweetheart. Want to try again?” 

“Sure, but I want a hint.” 

“Not without a price. Come a little closer.” 

When the car came to a stop at a red light, you leaned in. He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek, right where you felt yourself blush. 

“Now, what’s your guess?” he asked. 

You thought for a moment. When you think of what rich people usually do for dates, a fancy restaurant comes to mind, but you had another idea. 

“Are you taking me out on your private yacht or something for breakfast?” 

He laughed. “Oh, close, but you’re off again.” 

You made a face and pouted. “Fine, I’m out of guesses.” 

“I see you gave up pretty quick.” 

“That’s not true! I just didn’t want to ruin your fun by getting it right,” you teased. 

He raised his eyebrows sarcastically, smirking as he laughed. You shrugged and shot him a cool smile. 

“Anyway, we’re almost there,” he said, looking pretty pleased with himself.

A moment later, your jaw dropped as you realized where you were. "Harry, wait, this is the airport. Why are we here?" 

He just kept grinning and drove away from the area with regular flights. Soon, he stopped the car in front of a private jet. A couple of attendants came over and opened the doors for you both. 

“Mr. Castillo, welcome! Everything’s ready for your flight, sir,” one of them said, then turned to you. “Welcome, Miss Johnson. This way, please.” 

Suddenly, you felt really nervous looking at that private jet. This was something you never saw coming. Harry walked over, putting his hand on your waist. “Come on, let’s not waste time. We’ve got dinner in Paris to get to.” 

You stared at him wide-eyed. “Did you say Paris? I didn’t even bring my passport, and I’m not sure if I'm ready for that.” 

He chuckled as he pulled you toward the plane. “Don’t worry, just trust me.” 

As you stepped towards the jet, you recognized the guy from the other night—you thought he was Harry’s driver. He smiled at you. “Miss Johnson.” 

Harry wrapped his arm around you as you climbed the airstairs and stepped into the jet. You looked around, completely in awe. You had been on a jet before, but that was just to meet Melanie when she came back from abroad. You’d never actually flown in one like this. This jet looked way more luxurious, with seats for ten or fifteen people that looked super comfy. Harry sat you in the window seat and took the one next to you. Once the door closed, the pilot reminded everyone to fasten their seatbelts, and Harry helped you with yours. 

“Feeling nervous?” he asked. 

“Not really,” you lied. It wasn’t the flying that made you nervous; you had been on scheduled planes countless times. It was just that you had never left the States before. But you couldn’t let him know that. 

The jet soon took off, and breakfast was served. It was like a meal from the fanciest restaurant. 

“Dinner, you mentioned earlier. Is it because we’ll be arriving in the evening?”

Harry glanced at his watch. “Yep. The flight’s about seven hours, and Paris is five hours ahead of New York, so we’ll get there just in time for dinner.” He smiled at you. “But enjoy your breakfast now. Try this,” he said, handing you a piece of lemon-flavored poppy seed muffin. You recognized it from Danilo and realized it was just as good. 

With seven hours to kill, you had plenty of time to chat. You also met Oliver, who turned out to be Harry’s assistant. He was nice and friendly, but to you, he was just another guy you had to keep secrets from. 

Even though you were excited to visit one of the cities you’d always wanted to see, the whole situation felt a bit sour. You were scared—scared of getting too caught up in everything and of things possibly getting out of control. The deeper your relationship with Harry got, the harder it would be for either of you to break things off, especially for you. 

You didn’t realize you had dozed off in your thoughts. You were awakened by the pilot’s gentle announcement, and when you looked up, Harry was staring at you. Was he actually watching you sleep?

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We've arrived."

You quickly turned your head and looked down at the magical city below, shining in all its splendor. Then you looked at Harry. “We really are in Paris,” you said cheerfully.

“Yes, we are,” he replied with a smile.

As the jet touched down on the runway, you jolted slightly. When it came to a complete stop, Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, followed by Oliver, who came to stand beside him.

“Dinner's ready; they're waiting for you,” Oliver informed him.

"Good," Harry replied, holding out his hand to you. "Come on, gorgeous."

You smiled a little and took his hand as you both stepped out into the stunning city.

“How hungry are you now?” Harry asked as the car drove you through the streets of Paris.

“Hmm, a little. Why?”

“Firstly, I promised you a dress, and I have to fulfill that promise.”

You looked at him. “You're not one to give up easily, are you?”

Harry grinned. “You're starting to get to know me; that’s good. But I still don’t really know you, and I don’t like that. We should fix that, don’t you think?”

You sighed and turned your head to look out over the city. As much as you wanted to, how were you going to share your story with him?

The car pulled up to a street full of famous brand-name shops. Harry got out first, and then you followed. The shop that was supposed to be closed at this hour had opened up just for you. Honestly, you should have stopped being surprised by everything when you were with Harry.

Two assistants came over to help and took you to the ladies' department, bringing you a bunch of dresses to try on. You picked out a couple and modeled them one after the other in the fitting room, showing them off to Harry. After a bit, you started to complain about how tired you were of putting them on and taking them off. Harry suggested you just keep the one you were wearing since he liked it best.

“The black one is awesome,” he said. “But honestly, they all look great on you, so I’m getting them all,” he told the shop assistant. 

“Wait, all of them? But—”

Harry put a finger to his lips and gave you a playful smile, silencing you in a way that surprised you. How could he be so incredible? 

Oliver tossed the bags into the trunk, Harry glanced at your shoes. “We would’ve looked for shoes and bags too, but it’s getting late.” 

“Oh, please, I’m so tired,” you whined. 

“Alright, we’ll look tomorrow. Let’s go,” he said, opening the car door for you.

“Man, I really respect models,” you said as you hopped into the car. “They must be wiped out after those fashion shows.”  

“You’d make a great model; you know,” Harry replied.

“I’ll pass,” you sighed.

"That’s a total bummer for the fashion world," he joked, making you giggle.

The restaurant where Harry brought you for dinner was a breathtaking oasis, with the Eiffel Tower standing proudly before you like a sentinel of romance, shimmering under the glow of the city lights. A soft, warm breeze danced around you, carrying with it the sweet notes of a gentle melody that intertwined with the clinking of fine glassware. The table was adorned with exquisite dishes and velvety wine, while a charming gentleman sat across from you, creating an enchanting atmosphere that felt plucked straight from a fairy tale. In that moment, you felt like a princess swept away by magic, but deep down you were aware that when the clock struck midnight, the spell would be broken, and you would return to being Cinderella. Embracing the fleeting beauty of the evening, you allowed yourself to savor every second.

After the meal, you strolled hand in hand to the Eiffel Tower, embarking on an adventure that lovers had cherished for centuries. As you climbed higher, the city below unfolded like a magnificent tapestry, alive and vibrant, each twinkling light telling a story of its own. You couldn’t help but gaze in wonder at the breathtaking view, and Harry, equally entranced, seemed to find the beauty in you as well. Every gentle touch of his hand against yours sent a thrill through you, and whenever you noticed his intense gaze, you instinctively looked away, each moment thick with unspoken words. You sensed he was waiting for your decision, yet uncertainty clung to your heart.

"Have you made up your mind yet?” Harry asked as he surveyed the expansive cityscape laid out before you.

You turned to face him, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, intertwining your thoughts and emotions.

"There's something you haven't told me, isn't there?”

You met his gaze again. "What will you do if my answer is no?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry offered a troubled smile and sighed deeply. "I’ll be hurt for sure, but you know me—I won’t give up easily. Still, I'm desperately hoping you won’t reject me," he replied, his voice trembling. Your heart ached as you looked into his eyes. For a moment, you simply stared at each other; time seemed to slow, and the city below blurred into the background.

“So what's the matter? Is there something you've heard about me that's holding you back? What happened in the past is really in the past. I'm not that foolish playboy anymore.”

Now that he had brought it up, it was time to confront what was bothering you inside. “Is that so? I bet you never go to nightclubs either.”

He frowned at the tone in your voice for a moment. 

“You were at he club the other night with a woman—only a few minutes after you told me to go to bed early.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute, I never even set foot in that club... Besides,  she was an old friend, not what you think. Now tell me, what were you doing there after you said goodnight to me? After you promised me you’d go to bed early?”

Oh, you were in trouble.

It was a complete misunderstanding, and you wanted to kick yourself. “I didn’t promise anything...” you responded evasively.

He pinched your chin and forced you to look straight at him. "So you've been a bad girl? I should punish you." He said in a husky voice, his fingers tangled in your hair, going for your neck, drawing you close and kissing you.

The kiss was passionate, irresistible, overwhelming; you were about to lose yourself in his hot breath but were able to stop yourself somehow. He noticed your lips remained still, and instinctively, he paused, pulling back just enough to create a breath of space between you. “There you go again,” he said, his voice deep. “You're holding yourself back, but I can see it in your eyes—you want me too.” 

You turned your head, feeling the warmth of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, your heart racing as the battle within you intensified. 

“Don’t even try to convince me you don’t want this. What we have is real, special.”

"You are right," you said after a moment of silence. "There’s something I didn’t tell you, and it’s really tough to say. Once I open up, how you respond will really shape what comes next, and I’ve got to admit, that makes me a little nervous, Harry.”

He thought about it for a second, and then he gave you a teasing look. "Did you, like, kill someone and bury them in your backyard or something?"

You stared at him in disbelief but couldn't help smiling; he always knew how to make you laugh. After you both shared a chuckle, you took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

Harry took your hand and looked you in the eyes. "Look, whatever it is you're hiding doesn’t really matter."

"But—" 

"No, really. When I said you were different, it may sound a bit cheesy, but I truly mean it. I really don’t want to lose you, and I know you feel the same way. So why don’t we just enjoy these next three days together? We can talk about everything when we get back to New York. And if you really did kill someone, I can arrange for a good lawyer for you.” He chuckled, and you covered your face with your hand, suppressing your smile.

“For now, just let it all out." He gently brushed your cheek with his knuckles. "All I want is to see you smile.”

You huffed, “Alright if that’s how you want to do it.”

“Yes. Now give me that cute smile of yours.”

You smiled at him, and he returned it with a bright smile. “Perfect. Now let’s head to the hotel; you must be exhausted.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.  

“Okay, thank you,” you whispered, looking at him. “For everything.”  

He drew you in even tighter, brushing his lips gently against the crown of your head. The intoxicating aroma of his perfume enveloped you, weaving an invisible bond between you. The warmth of his skin radiated against your cheek, a comforting heat that seeped through the soft fabric of his shirt, like a hidden treasure waiting to be uncovered.

After Oliver dropped you off at the hotel, he helped you with the check-in before finally answering his phone, which had been ringing for ages. “Go for Oliver."

“Can I talk to Mr. Castillo? It's urgent!”

Oliver glanced at you as you two headed for the elevator. “He's kinda busy right now,” he said. “Honestly, it seems like he might’ve finally found what he’s been looking for,” he added with a smirk, admiring the two of you from afar. “We won’t be needing your services anymore.”

“You’re not getting it—our system has been hacked. I have been trying to contact you. He needs to know about this. The woman he’s with isn’t Melanie Johnson.”

Oliver’s face shifted immediately, and he froze. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”  

"I wish I were kidding! I'm not sure how it happened, and we're still figuring it out. If he can contact me ASAP, I can fill him in on all the details. Please reach out as soon as you can."

“Tell me everything first. I’ll let him know.” He said, starting to listen to what the matchmaking agency person was saying.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

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[digital-slvt]

Proposal Adjacent Behavior...

Sevika x Reader ‪‪ ❤︎‬

Sevika proposes to you! In her.. Strange Sevika way!

wrote this for you tbh @shanesevikasfuckdoll :p

A/N : I typically do not like writing fluff, or anything even remotely corny or sappy. But I am in LOVE. And well ... this is what it has done to me. Anyways, this isn't proof read, I wrote this in like 20 minutes, wtv.

Enjoy ‹𝟹

Sevika wasn't going to bring it up tonight.

You’re curled up beside her on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside the window, your fingers tracing lazy shapes on her thigh. The TV flickers different colors in the corner, forgotten. Her arm is around your shoulder, and your eyes are slowly closing, but you notice that she’s too still, too quiet, barely breathing.

You shift, glance up at her, sensing it.

“You alright?”

She nods after a moment, but it’s not convincing. You tilt your head to study her, really study her, but she can’t hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Sevika,” you say, now a little firmer.

Her jaw tightens before she heavily sighs.

“…I don’t know how to do this shit,” she mutters, thumb grazing your shoulder like a habit. “Not the way you probably imagined it.”

You sit up a little, tensing slightly. “Do what?”

She lets out a long and heavy exhale before reaching into the pocket of her sweater, avoiding your eyes.

The box Sevika pulls out is small. A simple, black, velvet box. She holds it between her fingers like it’s something fragile—like it might burn through her palm if she grips it too hard.

She doesn’t open it. She just passes it to you without a word.

Your heart stutters. Your hands shake when you take it, slow, hesitant, already feeling what’s inside before you even look.

The ring catches the low light, and Gods, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What…?” your voice barely comes out.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” she says, eyes fixed on the floor now. “Hell, I didn’t even think I’d live long enough to consider it.”

There’s a pause. A bitter laugh under her breath.

“And now… all I think about is staying. Staying with you. Waking up next to you every day until the world burns down around us.”

You look at her, really look at her, and her expression guts you. There was a quiet kind of fear hidden behind layers, but you could see it. This desperate, aching softness she never lets anyone see. Usually not even you, not fully.

“I don’t have anything else to offer you,” Sevika says, voice lower now, cracking around the edges. “No promises I won’t screw it up. No fancy life. Just me. All of me.”

She finally meets your eyes. With orbs like the moon, her gaze was glazed over, glassy like stars. In them, you saw vulnerability. For the first time, you saw true terror in her. And it wasn’t in battle, or on a mission where her life was at stake, but instead it was here, right in front of you.

“…But if you want it, it’s yours.”

You don’t speak. Just slide forward and wrap your arms around her, pressing your face into her shoulder. Sevika holds you tight, secure, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Then she shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to take your hand in hers—calloused fingers cradling yours with so much care you can feel in your bones. She doesn’t say anything else as she slips the ring onto your finger, her thumb brushing over it once it’s in place.

Her hands are shaking.

“You dumbass,” you whisper, your voice trembling, tears finally breaking out and rolling down your cheeks. “You already gave me everything.”

And when you kiss her, lacing her with more passion than ever before, she finally exhales for real.

Her breath is soft and tender. Her heart, full of all the things she never thought she could feel.

And maybe she’ll never say it in the right ways. Maybe she’ll never speak it in grand gestures or in perfect lines, but she loves you.

She loves you more than anyone ever has. ❤︎

[thetarotyapper]

what makes you so alluring? (pick-a-card reading)

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(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. select the card based on the number provided below and scroll down to read about the card you have chosen. remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 1

ace of cups, two of cups, 9 of cups, 3 of wands, 7 of pentacles

my lovely pile 1, with the ace of cups and two of cups coming out here, i see you are someone who is very loving and compassionate. you accept people for who they are and you’re a very understanding person. people love spending time with you because you just give out this comforting energy, it's almost irresistible. your kindness and your loving nature is what pulls people towards you. people can't help but just feel drawn to you, you know what i mean? your energy is so rejuvenating and when people talk to you, they feel so much lighter and better. but please be careful, im seeing that you might also attract a lot of negative energy. people see you as someone who can rescue them and because of this, im seeing that many people depend on you for emotional support. you might feel drained at some point but seeing people happy is your first priority and you know that people feel good when they are with you and that is what keeps you going. you are a very empathetic person and im seeing that many people would like to be your friend. 

with the 9 of cups and 7 of pentacles here, im seeing that you are someone who has put in a lot of hard work to be where you are right now. at some point in your life you might have felt like nothing is going your way and that all your efforts are going to vain, but here's the thing - you don't lose your ground. you still put in your 100% and because of your dedication and your strong mindset, you have reached the point in life where you are satisfied and you know your worth. you are someone who is independent and confident, and honestly babe you should be because only you know how much efforts you have put in - so be proud of yourself. you are in a state of emotional happiness and i don't see you letting anyone ruin your contentment. people find your hard work, dedication, efforts, confidence and independence very alluring. i wouldn't be surprised if people look at you as their role model. and for some reason i was getting a feeling that you might be interested in psychology because you always want to understand people on a deeper level and understand why people behave the way they do.

lastly with the 3 of wands falling out, your vision and your willingness to grow is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who is not afraid to let go of things that no longer serves you right. it's not easy, but you know that in order to seek something better, you need to move on from the negative energies. your ideas, your plans, your movements, the way you think is what makes you so alluring. you are someone who thinks about the future and you have this magnetic energy that draws people towards you. you are someone who likes to try out new things and you never settle for less. your curious nature and your thinking skills are what makes you alluring. your ability to see the good in the bad is what makes you so alluring.

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 2

the devil, ace of swords (reversed), hanged man, queen of swords, queen of wands

with the devil and the ace of swords popping out, the first thing i can confidently say is that you are someone who never gives up. you are someone who goes out of their way to seek the answer you are looking for and no matter the obstacles, you always overcome it. you give me the vibes of someone who has a very intense gaze and you guys might like to apply kajal/eyeliner - or maybe you have a very different style of applying it and people are drawn towards your eyes because of that. you might even have blue eyes or maybe you have very intense eyes because i see that your eyes make you look otherworldly. OMG WAIT I FINALLY FOUND THE WORD - bold and seductive. that's the energy you give off. you’re also unapologetically you and i'm seeing that some people might hate this about you but at the same time they find it so damn sexy. ugh pile 2 im literally tryna be like you because your energy is CAPTIVATING. you have this mysterious energy and you’re also someone who is very smart. im seeing that many people tend to get nervous around you and i'm also seeing that you like to keep people on their tippy toes. you like it people get worked up around you, don't you pile 2 hahaha. 

with the hanged man here, i see that regardless of having such a strong heart, you are someone who is vulnerable and you are sympathetic when you need to be. but if someone takes advantage of your soft side, oh i see you never forgiving them. you do not open up to people easily and it takes you a lot of time to trust someone, but if someone breaks that trust, you won't hesitate to remove them from your life. you are also someone who will not rest until you find your answers. you have a very driven nature and im seeing that many people wish they were you. can you even blame them babe? I WANNA BE YOU TOO PLEASE SHARE YOUR SECRETS. you also have a unique way of finding answers and people love listening to your opinions. you are someone who can remain calm when things don't go your way and this makes you so alluring. your calm and composed nature is what pulls people in. you are literally the definition of 'thinking out of the box'.

you know what is so beautiful about your reading, pile 2? the queen of swords and the queen of wands popped out together when i was shuffling the cards. do i even need to say anything at this point? like oh my god your energy is beautiful. i will never shut up about the vibes you give off, pile 2. you are someone who strives for honesty and clarity. you know when someone is lying and i'm seeing that people might even get a little intimidated by you. you are also someone who is direct and straightforward and you expect the people around you to be the same. you won't hesitate to call out people for their bullshit (sorry for cursing but i just had to say it!). i wouldn't say you’re confrontational, but you aren't scared of asking someone why they did what they did. oof, what a powerful energy. your independence and your confidence is what makes you alluring. you don't depend on others. i'm also seeing that you gain a lot of attention when you go out and that is because of the badass energy you radiate. you are also someone who is outgoing and you are not the type to settle for less. i know i said this a lot before but pile 2, please share your secrets with me. i literally wanna be you because your energy is just 🤌✨

٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ pile 3

4 of cups, queen of wands, 2 of wands, 2 of cups, ace of swords

my lovely pile 3, the 4 of cups and the queen of wands fell out together and the first energy i could sense here is that you have overcome a very difficult time in your life where you felt stuck and felt like nothing was moving forward for you. and you might have also blamed yourself for this. your angels are asking me to tell you that it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. the universe slowed down their blessings for you because it wasn't meant to find you at that point. but here's the fascinating thing, regardless of things slowing down for you, you were still hopeful. yes, you kind of felt like it was your fault but you didn't give up, and i am so so proud of you, love. there was a point in time where you isolated yourself and stopped enjoying the simplest pleasures in life. you were afraid, wondering if everything was a lesson. you guarded yourself from going out and making new connections. but then a realisation hit you, how long were you going to stay like this? how long can this go on for? that's when you realised you had to change your ways and your view towards life. it took a lot of effort and a lot of contemplation, but you finally put yourself out there. you finally let yourself free and enjoy the smallest pleasures in life. sometimes you would overdo yourself and feel exhausted because the fear of going back to your old harmful ways scared you. you need to slow down a little, babe. you need to go easy on yourself. overworking yourself is not good. yes you have come a long way and i know you’re afraid, but you need to know that going easy on yourself wont hurt, love. people have noticed your transformation and you might have attracted a lot of attention. because of your past, you might be a little distant and you might not be impressed easily. you are more guarded and alert. you tend not to get distracted easily, and people find this very alluring. i see a lot of people trying to gain your attention and win you over but with the queen of wands, you radiate confidence and self-assurance. people are attracted to your energy and your will to change. you’re brave and strong-minded, but at the same time you are kind and understanding. also, the way you laugh is very alluring. people love it when you laugh. the sound of your laughter is captivating. 

with the 2 of wands and the 2 of cups here, i see that you are someone who is not afraid to come out of your comfort zone anymore. you’re a free bird and you don't want to fall back to your old ways. now, you’re not afraid of trying out new things and your curious and experimental nature is what makes you so alluring. for some of you, im seeing that maybe in the past you might have gotten out of an unhealthy relationship where the person was not letting you move on (4 of cups) and one day, you finally realised that this is not right and you got the confidence to leave and you also evolved as a person (queen of wands) and now that you’re finally free, you’re not afraid to try out new things and you might also be making new connections - platonic as well as romantic (2 of wands and two of cups). i wouldn't be surprised if the people you know will try to shoot their shot with you because i see that many people were literally waiting for you to be single ( this energy applies for some of you who chose this pile). 

with the ace of swords coming out, i see that you like it when someone is being honest with you and you HATE people who play games. you yourself are a very honest person and when anyone asks you for advice or help, you’ll always be truthful and never hold back. i'm also seeing that you are a girl’s girl. if anyone compliments your outfit, you will literally tell them which brand you’re wearing. you don't like to gatekeep things and people love that about you. you’re also someone who is very intelligent and you have a sharp mind. you will cut through any confusion and you have a unique way of thinking. you can separate your emotions and make firm decisions. this ability of yours is what makes you so alluring.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

they said speak now - m.s.

summary: you and matt had been best friends since the moment you were born, rarely doing anything without him by your side. your families have always expected the two of you to end up together, but when matt gets a girlfriend that hates you and desperately attempts to destroy your relationship, you’re forced to confront the truth about your feelings for him. will your bond survive the test, or will the pressure of love, jealousy, and change push you apart?

wc: 2k

series masterlist

Part five

Matt called you that night, once everyone was home safe and he was in bed, guilt still rushing through him from the state he left you in. He felt awful, completely at fault for what had happened, knowing he should’ve stood up for you and let you sit next to him, but the way his new girlfriend stared at him expectantly, like she was owed the front seat now that they were a couple, there was no way he could deny either of you what you wanted.

In his mind, it was stupid. Everything from the passenger seat to the way you and Amber treated each other, it was all dumb. Just because he had a girlfriend now didn’t mean he couldn’t care for both of you, at least in his mind. He didn’t see why you had such an issue with each other, especially if both of you made him happy in your own ways.

You wanted to ignore his call, a part of you wanting him to feel worse than he already did about everything, but the part of you that loved him, even as your best friend, couldn’t hurt him like that. As soon as you answered, Matt whispered your name softly, like he was afraid of scaring you off. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, voice quiet and calm.

“For what?” You ask him. Your stomach was still turning slightly, your body not fully recovered from the nausea that consumed you about an hour ago in the car and you knew you wouldn’t feel better until the morning, but you couldn’t ignore the way Matt’s voice calmed you and made you feel slightly less sick.

“For everything, I guess. You getting sick, the way Amber talked to you, making you feel like I’d forget about you… I could never forget about you and I wish you knew that.” Matt sounded sincere in the way he spoke to you, his smooth voice triggering goosebumps on your skin.

“It’s just how girls are, Matt,” you tell him honestly. “I know how girls are which is why I’m so… apprehensive. She knows how girls are, too. Not saying she’s necessarily right about any of it,” you lie. “But girls don’t like when guys have friends that are girls. It’s just how it is. What hurts me is you let her have an attitude with me and you don’t defend me or tell her to stop and that’s what makes me so sure that you’ll choose her over me in a heartbeat.”

“Why does it always have to be about choosing? Can’t I have separate relationships with you both without having to change how I talk to either of you?” You hated how he had a point and you couldn’t really further explain your jealousy without exposing your feelings towards him, which in your mind would definitely ruin your relationship with him for good.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes locked on your ceiling above you, room illuminated by the moon shining in the window. “I’m just used to having you all to myself. I don’t have any other friends except you and your brothers.” Your nose burned from the onset of tears filling in your eyes, the thought of being lonely overwhelming you.

Matt’s quiet for a few beats, noticing the way your voice pinches towards the end of your sentence. “Do you want me to come spend the night?” He asks finally, tone serious. You sniffle and bring a hand up to wipe a tear that slips from the corner of your eye. “Yes,” you whisper back to him.

It’s not even ten minutes before he makes it to your house, climbing in through your window as to not disturb your sleeping family by opening the front door. It was something you guys had been doing for years at this point, ‘sneaking’ Matt in through your bedroom window on nights when it was a little too late to make noise by walking through your house to let him in, or just on nights when you had school the next day and he really shouldn’t have been spending the night in the first place.

You’re just watching him from your bed, curled up on your side and facing him as he slips his shoes and sweater off. “Why are you crying so much lately?” He asks in a quiet voice with a teasing undertone, trying to cheer you up. It does bring a small, wet giggle out of you, your hand wiping your nose as you sniffled.

“I don’t know. Too much change, I guess.” You tell him, scooting backwards on your bed as he comes closer and pulls the blanket back to slide in next to you. “Too much change?” He clarifies and you nod slightly. “You mean like me and Amber?”

The smile fades from your face and you shrug your shoulders slightly, staring over at him as his cheek rests against the pillow, his body facing yours. You always seemed to find yourself in this position with him, laying side by side in bed, facing each other as you spoke quietly, almost as if you hoped nobody else could hear you. “You and Amber, graduating, being eighteen… it’s just a lot right now and I don’t even know what I want to do. Part of me is just scared you’re figuring things out and I’m not.”

Matt chuckles at this, rolling his eyes slightly. “Are you kidding? I have nothing figured out. Just because I got a girlfriend doesn’t mean anything.” You sigh and reach over, shoving his shoulder at the way he rolled his eyes. “No, but it changes things. She’d never let you live with me, she probably won’t want you hanging out with me, I’m gonna have to spend all my time with… with Chris!”

“Oh, stop,” Matt laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him, slinging your arm around his waist so he could wrap his own around your back, staring down at you now. “I’m gonna tell Chris you don’t think he’s good company.” You pout up at him and shake your head slightly. “He’s great company but he’s not you.”

Matt can’t ignore the way his stomach turns when you say that, unable to place the feeling of the skipping in his chest. His smile fades as he looks down at you, trying to focus on his breathing as his eyes lock onto yours. “Matt?” You say softly, hearing him suck in a soft breath as you break him out of his thoughts. “Yeah?” He responds at the same volume, shooting you a gentle smile.

“I dunno, you looked.. out of it,” you laugh, scooting a bit closer and grabbing the blanket to pull it higher up on your guys’ bodies. “Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Just thinking. Nothing important.”

You feel a comment itching to be spoken sitting on the tip of your tongue, and it has to be the late hour that makes you confident enough to say it, knowing you’d never say this without the comfort of the dark room you’re in. “Looked like you wanted t’kiss me,” you say teasingly, wiggling your eyebrows up at him.

A laugh rips out of him, his body shaking underneath your arm at your accusation. “Kiss you?” Matt giggles, pulling you closer and turning onto his back, shaking his head as he turns his gaze towards the ceiling. “Nah. You wish.”

You giggle as he pulls you with him, now tucked into his side as he turns over, cheek resting on his shoulder. It was funny, the interaction, enough to make you forget about whatever it was you were upset about, but it was true. You did wish.

-

In the morning when you wake up, Matt is still sound asleep, sprawled out on his back with one arm slung out to his side where you were presumably laying at one point, his other arm lazily resting over his face to hide his eyes from the sun shining in your room. You let out a sleepy sigh and stretch out on your bed, arms high above your head as your eyes squeeze shut momentarily.

It’s been a while since you’ve woken up in the same bed with Matt, the pleasure becoming a rarity now with Amber in the picture. Truthfully you understood where she was coming from to an extent. If you were a girlfriend, you wouldn’t want Matt spending the night at another girl or doing the things you guys did together, but it was all you and Matt knew. Spending time together was like second nature.

Matt could sleep forever if you let him, a heavy sleeper to the point where you’ve laid fully on top of him and he wouldn’t wake up, so once you look at the time and realize it’s already afternoon, you groan and turn to face him, reaching forward to remove his arm from his face. He doesn’t stir, in fact a small snore leaves his parted lips, seemingly slipping further into sleep as you move him.

“Matt,” you say groggily, shoving his shoulder gently. Your stomach was already grumbling, begging for food after your night of nausea. “Wake up.” He shifts and rolls onto his side to face you, away from the sun, eyes still closed. You huff and grumble something under your breath, moving your hand up to his nose and pinching his nostrils together.

It’s only a couple of seconds before Matt’s hand comes up to grab your wrist, pulling it away from his face quickly. His eyes peel open and lock on you, puffy and unfocused as he looks at you. “Why?” He asks plainly, voice laced with sleep. The raspiness makes your toes tingle and you have to fight the girlish giggle that bubbles up in your throat. “I’m hungry,” you inform him, your wrist still in his grasp as he holds it close to his chest. Matt sighs and closes his eyes again, nuzzling his cheek into the pillow. “Okay,” he sighs. “What do you want?”

You smile wide at his instant willingness to get food with you, scooting a bit closer to him. “Do you have any plans today?” You ask him, pulling your hand out of his so you could bring it up to trail a finger over the stubble growing on his jaw, your touch light on his skin. “No,” he replies, yawning loudly. He finally opens his eyes for good this time, the ability to fall back asleep slipping from his grasp. “Amber’s at some family member’s house like an hour away and you’re my only other friend.”

“Can we go to that new cafe in the city?” You ask excitedly, already pushing the covers off of both of you and sitting up. Matt groans and runs both hands over his face, rubbing harshly before he turns his head and sniffs under his arm, grimacing slightly as he pulls away and looks at you again. “Sure, but I need to go home and shower first.” He sits up next to you and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, his back facing you. When Matt stands up and stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but stare at the sliver of skin that becomes exposed due to his shirt riding up, his underwear visible from how low his sweatpants were slung on his hips.

He spins around and smiles at you as his hands slap down onto his thighs and you clear your throat and meet his eyes as quickly as you can, trying to make sure he doesn’t realize you were staring at a sliver of skin like a man starved of physical contact. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes?” He suggests as he slides back into his shoes and you nod your head, shooting him a smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll be ready.” You agree.

Thirty minutes later when Matt pulls up in your driveway just like he promised, already playing your current music fixation when you climb into the car with a wide smile on your face, excited to spend your day with your best friend, alone.

You just hoped Amber wouldn’t find a way to ruin it for you.

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[stylesispunk]

Blind faith | part iii

Priest!Joel Miller x night club dancer! Reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: the aftermath of Joel finding you are a stripper and you reveal your truth to some extent. A day trip to the beach and how Joel realizes something.

wc: 9,5k

warnings: age gap (Joel's in his late 40s and reader late 20s), forbidden love, angst, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, sexism, so much tension between joel and reader, they falling harder, fluff.

a/n: Hello loves! Here's chapter 3. I was kinda excited for this one but I'm kinda more excited for the following one. I hope you like this and how the story is developing. I'm really loving writing it. Please share your thoughts, and please take note that reader still have secrets to share. Please, share your thoughts with me I LOVE READING THEM. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You were in despair the moment you left the stage. Joel’s stare still stung on your skin, burning everywhere as if you were ashamed to have been trapped after the lies you had made up. You warn, pushing Carmen with no intention behind.

“Hey, hey, Estrellita, where are you going like this” She asked, placing her hands on your shoulders that seemed to ease its fire.

“I need to-I need—to I need to…Joel, uhm, the priest, she was here and he saw me.”

“Who? What the hell was he doing here?” she asked, surprised at the information.

“Someone must have told him about me.” You replied, the thought of him changing his mind towards you hurt more than any wound you could have.

“Okay, breathe.” She nodded her head, trying to erase your anxiety, “You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I’m—”

“Why do you care so much about what he thinks?” she questioned.

“Because he has been good to me. I don’t want him thinking I was playing with him” you replied, without being able to ease your heart stammering against your ribs.”

Carmen’s gaze softened, but there was something knowing behind her eyes. “And what if he does?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

You swallowed hard, the thought twisting something deep inside you. “Then I—” you hesitated, feeling the burn of unshed tears behind your eyes. “Then I don’t know.”

Carmen sighed, her hands squeezing your shoulders. “Estrellita… men like him, they don’t come here. But you have to ask yourself something—was he here because he wanted to judge you, or because he wanted to understand?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know. But I saw his face, Carmen. He looked—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head.

“Hurt?” she guessed.

You flinched, looking away.

Carmen let out a soft laugh, not unkind. “That man is already gone for you,” she murmured.

You didn’t want to hear that. You couldn’t.

“I need to go,” you said instead, stepping away from her grasp.

“Go where?”

“I—”

“Rest.” She said, “Let him to process this and then you can go and talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

You hesitated, but ended up nodding.

“Okay.”

Three days had passed and there was no sight of him. At least no in the way you wanted it. You tried looking out for him at the church even, to his house, but everything seemed to be in vain.

Three days. Three days of trying to catch his eye, only for him to look away. Three days of waiting outside the church, only for him to slip out the back. Three days of silence where there used to be warmth.

And it was driving you mad.

Joel had never been like this with you. He had never shut you out like this before. Not when you first met, not when people whispered about you, not even when he wrapped his arms around your waist during the night you feel asleep together on his couch. But now? Now, he was slipping through your fingers water in your hands.

You found yourself outside the church again, fingers curling into fists at your sides, fidgeting your jeans as you took a steadying breath. The doors were open, the flickering glow of candlelight casting long shadows inside.

He was there. In front of the altar, on his knees, praying.

You knew it before you even stepped inside, and when you saw him, your breath caught.

He must’ve heard your footsteps because he tensed. But he didn’t turn around.

“Are you going to pretend I’m not here?” you asked, voice steady despite the storm inside you.

He exhaled, but still, he wouldn’t look at you.

“I’m not pretending,” he said, voice rough.

You scoffed. “Really? Then what do you call this?”

Silence.

You stepped closer. “Joel.”

He finally turned, and the look in his eyes nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

Regret. Want. Something deeper, something you didn’t want to name.

“Call me father, not Joel” he said, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”

The words cut through you like a blade. Not Joel.

Not anymore.

You blinked, your throat tightening as you searched his face, waiting, hoping for some sign that he didn’t mean it. That this was just another wall he was building between you, one you could tear down if you only pushed hard enough.

But his expression was set in stone.

“You don’t mean that,” you said, voice quieter now.

He exhaled sharply, looking away like it hurt him to see you standing there. “I do.”

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

“Because this has to stop.” His voice wasn’t unkind, but it was firm. “This… whatever you did to me.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re a liar. You seduce your way to people. I’m sure of it. You dance in that way for men and for women, you are what? A stripper? It was fun, wasn’t it? To walk inside this place but not being more than a sin?”

He could have slapped you in your cheek and it would hurt less. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, stunned.

Joel had never spoken to you like this before. Not even when he had been cautious of you, when he had been wary and careful with his words.

This was cruelty.

A slow, sharp ache curled in your chest, pressing against your ribs like a wound you hadn’t braced for. Your hands trembled, and you clenched your hands “Is that what you think of me?”

Joel didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his jaw locked tight, his fists at his sides like he was trying to convince himself of his own words.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of tears. “You think I was playing with you?” Your voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, something raw and unsteady. “That I… what? Tricked you? Made you feel something you didn’t want to feel?”

His silence told you everything. You let out a bitter, hollow laugh, shaking your head. “You’re a coward.”

That got a reaction. Joel’s gaze snapped to yours, something dark flickering in his eyes. “Watch yourself.”

“Why? You think you can hurt me more than you already have?” You took a step forward, your voice trembling now. “I didn’t do anything to you, Joel. You were the one who kept looking for me. You were the one who made me feel—”

You stopped yourself, pressing your lips together, shaking your head. He didn’t deserve to hear it.

“I should have known,” you murmured, voice quieter now, laced with something almost mournful. “I should have known you’d find a way to make me the villain as everyone else.

Joel swallowed, his throat bobbing. But he didn’t say anything.

You took a shaky breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “I never wanted to hide this, Joel.”

Then you turned away, walking toward the door.

But before you left, you hesitated, your fingers tightening on one of the pews. You didn’t turn around when you spoke again.

“I hope you can sleep at night,” you whispered. “There is no pray you can use to feel better about yourself.”

The church fell into an eerie silence. He stood frozen at the altar, his grip tight around the pulpit as the heavy wooden doors groaned shut behind you. Your words still rang in his ears, they feel like bleeding.

"There is no prayer you can use to feel better about yourself."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. But what was he really mad about? Was it the fact that you had hidden this part of yourself from him? Or was it something he didn’t want to name?

His fingers flexed against themselves.  He told himself it was about you, about the way you had let him believe you were someone else, perhaps pure. Someone untouched by the kind of life he had walked into that night at the club. Someone untainted.

But deep down, in the part of himself he didn’t let see the light. He knew that was a lie.

It wasn’t the lie. It wasn’t about the way you danced, about the way you let people look at you, about the way they whispered your name in the dark.

It was pure jealousy. A slow-burning, sickening jealousy that clawed at his ribs, that twisted inside him until he couldn’t breathe. Because he had wanted to be the first. The first to see you like that, to watch you, to take in the way you moved, the way you let your body speak without uttering a single word.

The first to know the weight of your touch, the warmth of your skin, the sound of your voice when you said his name and not just Father.

But he wasn’t. He would never be. Joel squeezed his eyes shut. The pulpit felt wrong beneath his hands; the church suddenly too quiet, too empty.

He had spent years preaching about self-control. About discipline. About resisting temptation.

But no one had ever told him what to do when he was the one being tempted.

When the sin didn’t come from you—but from him.

And that was the worst part of all.

The music pulsed through the walls, the usual hum of the club coming to life as the night stretched on. But tonight, it felt distant. Muted. You ears ringed.

You sat in front of the mirror, fingers resting in your lap, staring at your reflection without really seeing it. Your costume was half on, shimmering fabric draped around you, waiting to be fastened. But you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Because no matter how much you tried to shake Joel’s words from your head, they clung to you like ghosts.

"You seduce your way to people."

"I’m sure of it."

"It was fun, wasn’t it? To walk inside this place but not being more than a sin.”

Your throat tightened.

You had never felt this ashamed of yourself before. Not for dancing. Not for the way you made people feel about you. The stage had been your home long before any church and its priest. It was the one place where you had control over your body, over the way people saw you. This time it was different but still was the closer you had.

And now? Now, it felt like your skin was too tight. Like if you stepped onto that stage, it wouldn’t be you anymore. It would be whatever Joel thought you were.

A hand landed gently on your shoulder, and you jolted, blinking out of your thoughts.

Billy stood beside you; his brows furrowed in concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Estrellita?”

You tried to smile. Failed. “Nothing.”

Billy scoffed. “Don’t lie to me, cariño. I know that look.” He knelt beside you, adjusting the hem of your costume with practiced ease. “Who do I have to fight?”

A soft, breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “You? Fight?”

He grinned. “Don’t underestimate me. I might be small, but I’m scrappy.”

Something in your chest loosened, just a little.

Billy had been one of the first people to welcome you into the club, one of the first to make you feel safe. You had learned his story in pieces—how he had been thrown out of his home when his parents found out he was gay, how he had wandered the streets for days before stumbling into this place.

He had found his family here. His home.

Just like you had. And for the first time that night, you felt something like steadiness return.

Maybe Joel didn’t understand. Maybe he never would.

But Billy did. Carmen did. Everyone who worked here saw you and they still loved you.

Billy squeezed your hand, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to dance tonight if you don’t want to.”

You looked at him, at the warmth in his eyes, the quiet understanding there. Maybe you didn’t feel like dancing tonight.

But you weren’t going to let Joel take this from you.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders. “I want to.”

Billy searched your face for a moment before nodding, helping you fasten the last of your costume.

As you stepped onto the stage, the lights warmed your skin, the music vibrated through your bones.

And just like that, you let the weight of the night fall away.

The music pulsed through your veins, wrapping around you like a familiar embrace. The stage lights bathed you in warmth, illuminating the shimmering fabric of your red suit as you stepped forward. The crowd murmured in expectation, eyes fixed on you, waiting for you to come.

So, you danced. You let the rhythm take you, let your body move as it always had, fluid, effortless, free. The music carried you, and for the first time that night, you felt like yourself again.

Until you saw him here again. Your breath hitched mid-spin.

Joel.

Hidden in the corner of the club, dressed in dark clothes, a cap pulled low over his face. His hands wrapped around a glass of whiskey, but his gaze, his gaze was all on you.

The weight of it burned, heavy and unreadable as if he was tracing marks with fire over your skin.

Your stomach twisted, your limbs faltering as a shockwave of something sharp and unbearable ran through you. He wasn’t just watching, he was consuming you with his stare, with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

And just like that, your legs gave in, ankle wobbling.

Your balance tipped.

A sharp gasp cut through the music as you stumbled, your heel catching awkwardly against the stage and you fell. The floor met you hard, the impact sending a jolt up your spine, stealing the air from your lungs.

Silence. The club held its breath.

The murmurs started then, a mix of concern and amusement rippling through the room. Billy was already moving toward you, but before he could reach you, someone else was there.

Joel.

His hand was on your arm before you could blink, strong and steady, lifting you to your feet like you weighed nothing at all.

Your heart pounded as you stared up at him.

His jaw was clenched, his brows drawn together, his breath uneven.

You should have been embarrassed. Should have been angry. But all you could think about was why.

Why was he here? Why he has come back here after all he said?

Why was he looking at you like that? And why, after everything, did he still come running the second you fell?

Joel’s grip on your arm was firm but fleeting. The moment he was sure you were steady, he let go like your skin had burned him. His face was unreadable, stormy eyes, tense jaw, lips pressed into a hard line.

You barely had time to take a breath before he turned away.

No words. No explanation. Just gone.

The moment he disappeared into the shadows, Billy was at your side, helping you the rest of the way up. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, searching your face.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

But your hands were still trembling.

Carmen appeared next, her gaze flicking toward the direction Joel had vanished before settling on you with knowing eyes.

Neither of them said a word about him. They didn’t have to.

The music had already started up again, the club moving on as if nothing had happened. As if you hadn’t just fallen, as if the man you’d spent days trying to reach hadn’t just been here, watching.

You exhaled sharply, forcing your shoulders back. If Joel wanted to act like this meant nothing, like you meant nothing.

You weren’t going to chase him. So, with the eyes of the room still on you, you turned toward the crowd, lifted your chin, and danced.

Back in the dressing room, the adrenaline had started to wear off, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest. You wiped at the sweat on your brow, breathing in deeply, trying to ground yourself.

But before you could even sit down, Billy and Carmen were already on you.

Carmen leaned against the vanity, arms crossed, one perfectly arched brow raised. "So... what was the priest doing here?"

Billy, standing beside her, nodded, arms folded tightly. "Yeah, and why was he dressed like some guy sneaking into a bar for the first time?"

You ran a hand over your face, sighing. "I don’t know."

Carmen scoffed. "Bullshit. He was watching you, clear as day."

Billy narrowed his eyes. "And then he just left when you fell? Didn’t even say anything?"

Your stomach twisted. "No."

Carmen let out a low whistle. "Damn. That man is tortured."

Billy leaned closer; his voice softer. "And you?"

You hesitated. What were you supposed to say? That seeing Joel there had rattled you to your core? That his stare had nearly burned through you, stripping you bare in ways you weren’t prepared for? That part of you had been desperate for him to stay?

That would be admitting too much.

So instead, you shook your head. "It doesn’t matter."

Billy and Carmen exchanged a look, but neither pushed further.

“Yo conozco a un hombre enamorado cuando lo veo” (I know when a man is in love when I see him” he said. Leaving, to help another of the dancers with her dress.

A man in love?

Later at night. You were back at the house you shared with Carmen. After the show and all the emotions storming in your head, you were getting ready to go to sleep, removing, the makeup, brushing your hair and slip into an oversized t-shirt you wore to sleep.

You were at the kitchen, sipping a cup of warm tea, while the clock shown two a.m. in the morning. You were about to go to the bedroom when a knock at the door stopped you.

You stood frozen in place, your fingers still curled around the mug. The knock at the door echoed through the quiet of the house, cutting through the remnants of the night like a blade.

Your heart pounded. No one came to see you at this hour.

Taking a slow breath, you stepped toward the door, pausing just before your hand reached the knob. Another knock. Firmer this time. You swallowed hard and opened it.

Joel stood there, bathed in the dim glow of the streetlamp. His dark eyes flickered over you, over your loose dress, the curve of your collarbone, the tired set of your features. He was still wearing the clothes from earlier, his shirt wrinkled, his hair slightly mussed like he had run his hands through it too many times.

Neither of you spoke, but you stepped back, just enough to leave the door open. An invitation.

Joel hesitated. His hands curled into fists at his sides like he was fighting himself, but then, he stepped inside.

The house was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single oil lamp casting shadows along the walls. Carmen’s door was closed; she was still out, unaware of the storm brewing in the doorway of your shared home.

You crossed your arms, your t-shirt brushing against your skin. “You shouldn’t be here,” you murmured, echoing his own words.

Joel’s jaw tightened. “I know.” But he didn’t leave.

You watched him, the way his shoulders rose and fell with slow, measured breaths. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable.

He looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

You swallowed. “What do you want?” then you pause, “Why were you at the club tonight?”

Joel let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face. “I—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t know?”

His gaze flickered down your frame before he tore it away, shaking his head. “I just—” He exhaled sharply. “I see you everywhere. When I close my eyes. When I—” He cut himself off again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It won’t stop.”

Your throat tightened.

"I'm sorry" he began, "what I said about you...I was wrong. You're not—You're not at all of that. You're not a sin. That was so wrong of me to say."

He took the scene in front of him, red eyes, glisten and red from all the crying. He had seen the way he had broken your heart in a cruel manner, throwing daggers at you without even thinking, without hearing what you had to share.

There were no words left for him to make this better.

"I-I thought I could trust you." you replied, barely hearing your own words,"you were so kind to me all this time but you weren't capable of hearing my truth. Instead you heard people calling me names and cursing my name with venom, and that father, that makes you as shitty as all people in this fucking town."

"I-"

"Leave, father. Don't waste your words in a whore like me, you could get burned." An as a final statement, you closed the door leaving him standing there, speechless and with a heart so heavy he could barely stay stand in place.

Joel didn’t move for a long moment. He stood there, staring at the closed door, your words ringing in his ears.

You could get burned. Perhaps he already had.

The weight in his chest was suffocating. He had come here thinking he could make it right, that his apology, his regret, would be enough to fix the damage he’d caused. But there was no fixing this, was there?

Because you were right.

He had judged you without listening. He had let his own fears, his own jealousy, fester into something ugly, and he had taken it out on you.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. He wanted to knock again, to beg you to open the door, to please let him try—But he had lost that right.

With a sharp inhale, Joel forced himself to step back. To turn away.

The night air was cold when he stepped outside, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache in his chest. He walked through the empty streets of town, past the glowing streetlamps and shuttered windows. He should have gone home, should have locked himself away and prayed for forgiveness.

But instead, he found himself back at the church.

The place that had once given him solace now felt suffocating. He stood in the center of the room, looking up at the altar, at the cross above it.

What had he done? He sank onto one of the pews, dropping his head into his hands.

Maybe this was his punishment. To pray until his heart stop bleeding.

Next day, Joel’s voice carried through the church, steady and memorized words that felt empty.

He had given hundreds of sermons before, about faith, about redemption, about the weight of sin and the promise of forgiveness. But today, the words felt hollow in his mouth. He spoke about grace. About salvation.

But his mind was elsewhere.

On you.

He kept glancing at the doors between sentences, expecting—hoping—to see you walk in.

But you never did. The pews were full, the congregation nodding along, but the one person he had been searching for wasn’t there.

He had told himself it was for the best. That his anger, his frustration, his jealousy—God help him, his jealousy—had been justified. That staying away from you was the only way to rid himself of this ache, this temptation.

But every day that passed without seeing you felt like a slow unraveling, like a thread pulled too tight, ready to snap.

And now, standing at the pulpit, words leaving his lips with no real meaning behind them, Joel realized. He didn’t know what the hell he was even talking about anymore.

Continuing with the day, the town square had come alive with laughter and soft music, the scent of roasted nuts and fresh bread hanging in the air. Stalls lined the streets, filled with handmade crafts, sweet pastries, and bottles of drinks, lemonade and children running between the booths, their carefree joy a stark contrast to the weight pressing down on your chest.

You walked slowly, keeping your head high, but you felt it, the judgment, the whispers.

Women clutched their baskets tighter as they passed you, their gazes cold and cutting. A few of them turned their backs as if your mere presence tainted the space. You weren’t surprised. You had expected it after that night. After Joel. After he had spoke about sin.

What you hadn’t expected was the men. The ones who had watched you under the dim lights of the club, whiskey glasses clutched in their hands, their eyes heavy with hunger. They weren’t turning away.

They were staring. Lingering.

The way their eyes traced over you made your skin crawl, the same gazes that once felt like power now left you feeling exposed.

You swallowed hard and pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders, your heart pounding.

The sun hung high in the sky, warming the cobbled streets as you wandered through the people, stalls lined the path, displaying fresh produce, homemade bread, and steaming pots of food. The scent of roasted corn and spices lingered in the air, mixing with the distant sound of a guitar being played by a street performer.

You stopped at a stand where an older woman stirred a large jar of lemonade, the condensation on the glass glistening in the light.

"Una limonada, por favor," (A lemonade, please?) you said, reaching for your coin purse.

The woman’s stirring slowed, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she didn’t move to pour the drink.

Behind her, another woman, one of the same ladies who had spoken to Joel that morning at the church,leaned in, whispering something into her ear. The vendor’s expression hardened.

"Sorry, I don’t speak Spanish” she said flatly, setting down the ladle. "But there is no more left."

You blinked, glancing at the nearly full jar. "I can see it full."

The woman wiped her hands on her apron and turned away as if you weren’t standing there at all.

Heat crept up your neck, not from the sun, but from the weight of the stares you suddenly felt around you. A few of the other vendors had gone quiet, their conversations dying as they turned to watch. You recognized some of them, women who had smiled at you in passing before. Now, their faces were unreadable, their expressions edged with something closer to disdain.

You exhaled slowly, setting your coins back into your pocket. "A la mierda con esto” (Fuck this) you murmured, stepping back.

You turned, walking away with your head high, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much it stung.

The whispers started as soon as your back was turned.

“She is shameless”

"And then she was fine, as if nothing had happened."

"After what happened in the church..."

Your fingers curled into your palms as you picked up your pace, pushing through the small crowd until you were free of them.

It wasn’t the first time you'd felt like an outsider in this town. But today, it felt different. Today, it felt personal, like daggers thrown in your direction.

You didn’t go far. Just enough to be away from the whispers, away from the stares that burned into your skin like embers.

A quiet little street opened up ahead, lined with a low wooden fence overlooking a field. The wind swayed through the tall grass, the golden tips catching the sunlight. You sat down, letting your hands rest on the rough wood, the warmth of the day still clinging to it.

And then, finally, the tears fell.

You bit your lip, staring at the horizon as your chest tightened. You had told yourself you wouldn’t let them get to you. That you wouldn’t let their judgment, their disdain, push you down. But here you were, shoulders trembling, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your blouse like a child.

It was everything. The weight of the past meeting the present, the uncertainty of the future. The ache of missing your old life.

The sound of footsteps on gravel made you stiffen.

You wiped your face quickly, trying to gather yourself before turning your head.

Joel stood a few feet away.

His brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face, taking in the redness around your eyes, the slight shake of your hands. His jaw tensed.

He had that look again, the one he always got when he was trying not to feel too much.

"You following me now, Father?" you asked, your voice rough from crying, trying to mask the way your throat still ached.

Joel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sighed, stepping closer.

"I saw what happened," he said, voice lower, like he didn’t want to say it too loud. Like he didn’t want to remind you of it.

You scoffed, looking away. "Guess the whole town did."

Joel was quiet for a moment. Then, he sat down beside you, elbows resting on his knees, staring out at the field like you were.

"You don’t have to prove anything to them," he said finally.

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. "I know."

"Do you?"

You turned your head sharply, meeting his gaze. He didn’t look smug, didn’t look like he was trying to challenge you. If anything, he looked… concerned.

And for some reason, that made your chest hurt even more.

You exhaled shakily, dropping your gaze to your lap. "I just—" Your voice wavered, and you bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head. "It doesn’t matter."

Joel didn’t push. Didn’t demand you say more. But when his hand came to rest lightly on your back, a steady warmth between your shoulder blades, you nearly broke all over again.

You didn’t move because Joel’s hand was warm, grounding over your back. He didn’t rub circles into your back, didn’t try to pull you closer, didn’t say anything at all. Just let his touch be there, solid, steady, unshaken by the weight of your silence.

You sniffed, staring out at the field, blinking quickly to stop more tears from falling.

"You should go," you murmured.

But Joel didn’t move.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "They already don’t like me. And if they see you sitting here—"

"I don’t care," Joel interrupted, his voice firm.

You turned to look at him, brows furrowing. "Yes, you do."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking. "Maybe I do," he admitted. "But not enough to leave you sitting here like this."

The words hit something deep inside you, something you weren’t ready to face. You pressed your lips together, looking down at your hands.

Joel sighed beside you, shifting slightly.

"They’ll get over it," he said. "Eventually."

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You sure about that?"

A pause.

"No," he said simply. "But people forget. They always do."

You swallowed, staring at the dirt path beneath your feet.

"I don’t know how much more I can take," you admitted, voice small.

Joel was quiet for a long moment. Then—"You wanna get outta here?"

You looked at him, confused. "What?"

He nodded toward the dirt road, toward the open fields beyond the town. "Come on. Let’s take a drive."

You hesitated. "Joel—"

"Come on, let he said. "Just… somewhere else."

You searched his face, trying to understand him.

"Do you want to get out of town for the day?" He asked, struggling to take words out your lips.

"What?" You asked, dumfounded.

"Get out. You and me. We can go to the beach for the day, wherever you want.”

"Are you for real?"

He stood, offering his hand out for you. Joel's hand hovered between you, fingers slightly curled, waiting. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff like he was bracing himself for rejection.

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, voice rough, "but just—just for the day. No town, no church, no whispers. Just us."

You stared at him, searching for a lie, a trap, but there was nothing but raw sincerity in his face.

For a moment, you thought about telling him to go to hell. About slamming a door in his face again, making him sit with the mess he had made.

But then, you thought about the weight pressing on your chest, the suffocating stares when you walked through town, the way you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore.

And you thought about him. About the Joel you had known all this time.

The one who had been kind. The one who had made you laugh. The one who had looked at you like you were something worth knowing, something worth.

You exhaled sharply. "The whole day?"

His throat bobbed as he nodded.

You hesitated for only a second before reaching out and slipping your fingers into his. His palm was warm, calloused, solid.

"Okay," you said quietly. "The whole day.”

The drive through California's highway felt warm, the sun spilling golden light over the dry hills and endless stretches of road. The hum of the engine was the only sound, the occasional breeze ruffling your hair as you drove, the windows rolled down. There was something about the air, the space, that felt different—like you could breathe for the first time in days.

Joel kept his eyes on the road, but you could see his hands grip the wheel tighter than usual, his knuckles white, like he was trying to hold onto something. You weren't sure what, but his silence was louder than anything else, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him now and then. His jaw was set, his face a little more drawn than you remembered, but there was something else—something softer about the way he looked at the road, like he was giving himself permission to leave everything behind, even if just for a moment.

When you arrived at the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, soothing and constant. Joel pulled into a parking spot, then reached into his pocket for some change, heading to a nearby stand to grab ice cream. You lingered by the car, watching the ocean stretch out before you, the sand warm under your feet as you took in the vastness of it all.

Joel returned a few moments later, holding two cones. "Here," he said, handing you one, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Do you like chocolate?"

You nodded, accepting the cone. "Yeah, thanks."

He sat down next to you on the sand, his shoulders relaxed for the first time all day. The warmth of the sun on your skin felt comforting, like it was inviting you to leave everything behind and just exist for a while.

You took a bite of the ice cream, the cold sweetness a perfect contrast to the heat of the day, and sighed. For the first time in so long, you weren’t worried. You felt free.

You took another bite of your ice cream, the sweetness swirling in your mouth, but the question still lingered in your mind. You glanced at Joel, watching him for a moment as he stared out at the ocean, seemingly lost in thought. The steady rhythm of the waves only seemed to deepen the silence between you two.

After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “When was the last time you saw a woman in those clothes?” you asked, your voice quiet but clearly talking about the night he saw you at the club for the first time.

Joel turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as if the question caught him off guard. He blinked once, then twice, as though trying to piece together the question in his mind. Finally, he sighed, his eyes dropping to his ice cream cone, his voice low.

“Never,” he said simply.

The word hung in the air like a truth neither of you were quite ready to face. You didn’t know what to say to that, but you felt something stir in your chest. Something raw. Something familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time.

You turned your gaze back to the ocean, letting the waves crash against the shore as you processed his response. Never. You wondered what that meant, what it meant about him, about you, about everything that had happened between you both. But the questions were too heavy, too complicated for this moment.

But then, “Do you want to know the real reason why I became a priest?” He asked, looking at you.

You looked at Joel, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. His gaze was fixed ahead, but there was something in the way he spoke, something raw that made you realize you were hearing a part of him he hadn’t shared with anyone.

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

He hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of his ice cream cone a little tighter. He didn’t meet your eyes, but you could feel the weight of his words coming, like a burden he’d been carrying for a long time. “I became a priest because a woman broke my heart.”

Your throat tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, so you just nodded, silently urging him to continue.

“My… what happened?” you finally managed to ask.

Joel’s lips pressed into a thin line as he took a deep breath, then slowly began to speak, each word coming out heavy, like it was wrapped in years of pain.

“We were together since we were sixteen. I married her at 21.” His voice cracked just slightly as he said it. “We were going to have a kid together. One night, we got mad at each other. She took our daughter and drove away… said she needed space.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to imagine what that must have felt like. But Joel kept going, his voice steady but distant.

“Then there was this accident…” His voice trailed off, and for a second, you thought he might stop talking. He swallowed hard before continuing. “My daughter died. And I—”

You could hear the pain in his voice, even if he tried to keep it under control.

“She was one.” He said, “Adeline survived but my Babygirl didn’t.” his voice almost breaking.

“I stopped seeing grey hair and holding hands in my seventies on a porch,” he said, his words quiet but heavy. “I just never thought I would be able to love someone else that way.”

For a long moment, you couldn’t say anything. His words hung in the air like they were too big to process all at once. You could feel the weight of everything he was carrying, the layers of grief and loss, and the way he was trying to put his life together again, piece by piece.

But then you felt it, how much of this story wasn’t just about his wife or daughter, but about everything that had happened between you two. How much he had been struggling with the things he’d said, the things he’d believed about you. How much pain he was still holding on to.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you whispered.

He gave you a soft, almost imperceptible nod, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, he just let the silence stretch between you both, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like there were walls between you. It just felt like two broken people, sitting side by side, with a shared understanding that didn’t need to be spoken out loud.

You sat there for a moment, the cool breeze from the ocean ruffling your hair, the sound of the waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. The weight of Joel’s story lingered in the air between you, but the silence felt different now, less heavy and more... shared. As if, for just a moment, both of you could exist in this small, quiet space without the world pressing down on you.

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say to something so raw, so painful? But your heart ached for him in a way you hadn’t expected, and before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his hand.

His hand was tense at first, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to let someone in. But when he felt the warmth of your touch, his body seemed to relax, and slowly, his fingers unfurled. You let your hand settle in his, fingers entwining as the quiet of the beach surrounded you.

“How old were you back when it happened?” you asked, fearing he would get offended by it.

“Twenty-two” he replied, simply.

“Why did you think you would never love someone again?”

“Because love hurt people.” He said, “It makes you dumb and afraid of yourself and I didn’t want that happening to me ever again.”

“But maybe there was someone out there. “

“I’m forty-eight, darling. There is no one for me out there.” He said without glancing at you but at the sea because deep down, he knew that someone was sitting next to him, and he was afraid to admit he had sacred vows at such young age when his perspective was tainted by hurt.

“I don’t have the answers for you, Joel,” you said softly, your voice steady, despite the storm of emotions swirling inside. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, his thumb brushing over your hand slowly, thoughtfully. You could see the battle inside him, the conflict of wanting to open up but being so afraid of what that might mean.

Joel’s eyes met yours, his gaze intense yet searching, as if trying to read the words you hadn’t spoken yet. You felt a strange pull inside, the urge to break through the silence and share something that had been buried deep within you for a long time.

He nodded slightly, his voice a whisper, “Yeah, if you want to share.”

You took a slow breath, your fingers still tangled with his, the connection between you grounding you in this moment. The ocean breeze was soft against your skin.

“I’m a ballerina” you said.

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, his thumb still brushing over your hand in a soothing, almost unconscious rhythm. He hadn’t expected that. The quiet intensity in his gaze softened just a bit, as if he were seeing a side of you that he hadn’t imagined before.

“You’re a ballerina?” His voice sounded surprised, as though the revelation was both unexpected and fascinating to him.

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Yeah, I was. I went to university and studied dance. It wasn’t just a passion; it was everything to me. I put in hours, years… But things happened. Life happened."

You looked out at the horizon, the ocean stretching endlessly in front of you, as though it might somehow offer the words you were struggling to find.

“I taught little girls how to become dancers too,” you continued, your voice a little quieter now. “I used to love watching them, seeing the joy in their faces when they learned something new. They were like little versions of me, full of dreams and possibilities. But…”

Joel’s expression softened further, and he leaned back slightly, taking in your words with a mix of empathy and understanding. “What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle, as though he were offering you the space to say whatever you needed.

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to share the full story, but the words came anyway. “Achilles’ heel” you said.

Joel raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little, intrigued by the sudden shift in your words. “Achilles’ heel?” he repeated softly, almost as if testing the phrase on his tongue.

You nodded, your eyes tracing the rhythm of the waves as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Yeah,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “I got that injury and everything stopped.” you stopped, biting your lip as if the words themselves were too sharp to say.

You were lying a bit, but not entirely.

Joel’s gaze softened, his face etched with understanding as he listened to you, his body now angled toward you, as if every part of him was leaning in to hear your truth.

Joel’s eyes never left yours, his expression full of empathy, as if he could sense the weight behind your words, even if you weren’t saying everything. His hand tightened slightly around yours, a silent reassurance. “I get it,” he said softly, his voice steady. “The thing that defines you, that you think is everything... and then it’s gone. Like the ground beneath you suddenly disappears.”

You nodded slowly, the tightness in your chest spreading as you realized how much that injury had really taken from you, even if it wasn’t just physical. It had been more than a torn muscle or a strained tendon—it had been the loss of something you’d built your identity on. The thing that had once made you feel like you had a purpose, a place in the world.

“Everything stopped, yeah," you said again, more to yourself than to him. “I didn’t know how to live without it. I still don’t really know who I am outside of it. I’ve spent so much time trying to get back to that... and sometimes, I wonder if it’s even possible.”

Joel’s gaze softened further, and for a moment, the world around you felt distant, like it was just the two of you, suspended in the quiet of the beach. His voice, when it came, was calm, but it held a depth of understanding that surprised you.

“You’re more than that. More than just what you’ve done or what you’ve lost,” he said, his words carrying a weight of truth. “I can see it. You’re still you, even without all of it. You don’t have to keep chasing something that doesn’t define you.”

His words hit harder than you expected. You hadn’t realized how much you had been holding onto the idea of your past, of who you used to be, instead of seeing who you were now. It was easier to cling to something that felt familiar, even if it hurt.

“Dancing at the club is the closer I got to live from what I love” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in it raw and real.

Joel’s thumb brushed across your hand again, the softest of motions, but it felt like the most grounding thing.

Joel’s gaze never left yours, his expression gentle but unwavering. The weight of your words seemed to settle between you, hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. He squeezed your hand softly, as though offering comfort, or perhaps just a reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

“That’s... that’s something, you know?” he said quietly, his voice filled with understanding. “I can see how much it means to you, even if it’s not the same as what you imagined. You’re still living it. It’s just... in a different way.”

You nodded slowly, the warmth of his words sinking in. "It’s not the same, though. It’s not what I dreamed of when I was younger, when I thought I’d be teaching classes, running my own studio, surrounded by little girls learning to dance. But at least when I’m on that stage, it feels like I’m close to who I was before... like a part of me hasn’t completely disappeared."

Joel’s thumb continued to move over the back of your hand, the quiet gesture a grounding presence in the midst of everything swirling inside you. He didn't speak immediately, letting the silence hang there, as though giving you space to breathe and reflect.

“Sorry for what I called you before” he said, looking at your eyes.

You met his gaze, a small, uncertain smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Sorry for what you had been through. I think you’re stronger than you realize. Stronger than you’ve given yourself credit for.”

Joel’s eyes softened, the weight of your words settling between you both, filling the space with a quiet understanding. He inhaled deeply, as though your response had lifted a burden he hadn’t even realized he was still carrying. For a moment, neither of you said anything, simply sitting in the comfort of each other’s presence. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was the only thing that filled the silence, their rhythm slow and steady, like the pulse of life itself.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever really be okay,” Joel finally said, his voice low, carrying the weight of years of unspoken pain. “But I’m trying. I’m trying for me, and for... everyone around me, even if it’s hard.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your heart swelling with empathy. “That’s all anyone can do. Try. It’s enough.”

He turned his head toward you, his gaze searching, but this time it was softer, more open. “I hurt you. I called you things... things that weren’t true. And for that, I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to handle all the... feelings. And the confusion.”

You felt a knot form in your throat, but you swallowed it down, nodding in acknowledgment. “I know. I get it. And I’m sorry for... for pushing you away when I shouldn’t have. It’s just... I didn’t know who to trust anymore.”

He didn’t reply right away, his thumb moving in slow circles against the back of your hand, grounding you both once more. The world around you seemed to fade into the background, as though nothing else existed but the two of you on that beach, sharing this fragile moment.

After a few moments, he whispered, “I never wanted to hurt you. Never.”

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice filled with the same quiet sincerity. “I know you didn’t.”

Joel took a deep breath, looking back at the ocean for a moment before turning his gaze to you once again. “Maybe... maybe we can start over. No labels. No expectations. Just... us.”

You smiled softly, a real smile, one that reached your eyes. “I’d like that.”

With that, he leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours, as the sound of the waves filled the air around you. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes, conveying all the unspoken emotions that had built up between you.

The night sky had settled over the town by the time you and Joel returned, the world around you bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. The air was cooler now, the warmth of the day fading into the peaceful stillness of the evening. The drive back had been quiet, but the silence between you didn’t feel heavy—it felt comfortable, like the kind of silence that only comes from being in the presence of someone who understands without needing to say a word.

As you reached the edge of town, Joel parked in front of his house, getting out the vehicle, you turned to Joel, your heart still full from the day you had shared. You broke the silence, your voice soft but sincere.

"Thank you for taking me out of the city, Joel" you said, your lips curving into a smile that reached your eyes, accentuating the little wrinkles at the corners that made his heart skip a beat.

He glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you feel good?”

"I did. Thank you again."

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "It was nothing," he replied, his voice low, yet filled with sincerity. "Seeing you smile like this is enough for me."

"I'm really sorry for what I said to you the other day, you aren't that. You're not a sin but an angel."

You felt your heart flutter at his words. They were simple, yet they meant everything. You took a small step closer to him, the space between you shrinking until you could almost feel his warmth, the subtle scent of him mingling with the cool night air. His cheeks flushed softly as he noticed how close you were.

Your smile widened, and you took a step closer to him, his cheeks tinted in soft pink as he realized how close you were, in front of him, tiptoeing in your feet to place a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek.

How could he be so close to you and not falling into temptation? How could he be so close and not dive into the waters and be sunbathed by your light?

He didn't want it to admit it, but his heart spoke for him. Sending clear signals, each beating, slow and fast, it was all because of you.

Because of the way you were.

Because of your smile.

Because of the little wrinkles on your nose when you smiled.

And because of how your face was sun kissed by the day you had shared today looked like under the light of his own eyes.

Without thinking, Joel cupped your face gently with both hands, his touch tender as he gazed down at you. You gasped softly, your breath catching in your throat, as he leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead, his eyes closing in the moment.

You didn’t want to admit it either, but your heart was bursting in that instant. He was everything you had dreamed of, a man who could love you with such sweetness, with such kindness, that he could build a fire just to keep you warm.

"Joel?" You spoke at the silence settled, his eyes seemed lost on your face, still inhaling the scent of vanilla of your perfume as if he wanted to memorize it forever.

You hesitated, your eyes flicking around as if you expected the world to turn against you, the hateful glares of the town’s people coming for you, their judgmental eyes sharp and heavy.

"I don’t think I should," you replied, the words tentative, the unease of the world outside pressing against you.

Joel’s voice was steady as he met your gaze. "There’s tea inside."

You chuckled softly, the corners of your lips lifting in amusement as you met his eyes. "Oh, you should have started by saying that."

Having you close was healing something he thought it was forever broken.

And he smiled, opening the door of his house that seemed to welcome you all over again, a fort where you could truly be you and him, with no eyes watching.

"You can stay over." he said out if nowhere.

"Why?"

"Because it's late and I don't want you walking alone at this time." He replied, trying to convince himself that was the only reason he wanted you here, closer to where he was.

"that's nice, but seriously why?" You asked him again, softly, looking for the real reason behind those soft brown eyes that made you this weak.

"This place seems brighter with you in it." Joel’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he met your gaze, his voice barely a whisper now. "This place seems brighter with you in it."

The words hung in the air between you, as if they were a secret the two of you had just shared. You smiled, a tender, knowing smile that spoke volumes without needing to say anything more.

"Okay." you smiled.

"Okay." he said after, mirroring the same lopsided smile he prayed to see each day.

And both of you laughed at the same time. Every possible line to be crossed was already crossed. This day you had both shared has ripened into love, it had consumed you, completed you as if the soul has spoken the words "oh, I already found you."

Perhaps, Joel was the destination where your strings landed on.

And perhaps, you were the soul Joel had given up to a long time ago, he had found you, and he stayed, worshipping the poems he had written about you all these years.

tags: if you want to be removed, you're free to tell me.

@jasminedragoon @mandaloriankait @jellybeanxc @spencercmlover @lilac-boo @disco-fairy75 @correapunk @existentialdreadofhumanity @secretcheesecakenacho @laliceee @exzidss @missladym1981

@drewharrisonwriter @hjzghi-blog @picketniffler @nobodyssfool @pedritosgirl2000 @koshkaj-blog @cigarxttxs @sweetpeakarolinaaa @wandasimp-69 @canteenee4 @obivari @shortandderanged @casualbananapatrol @stevie75 @hammerhead1776 @brittmb115 @strangersdotmp3 @goodvibesonly421 @jackie923 @lunpycatavenue @capuccinodoll

@iamtoriasworld @priincehoseok @luunarr0 @dinomecanico @missadangel @alrihhty @pasc4lfuzz @materialgirl-97 @harrycherrylove @canteenee4 @bensonispunk @locaparapedrito

[fairyhaos]

ও wen junhui as your college boyfriend

gn!reader, wc ~500 tags: requested by anon, college au, fluff, crack, est. rs., this is so cute omg i want a college bf!junhui now

he's honestly so adorable no matter what

so u can bet he's the cutest college bf ever too!!

memorised ur wholeee schedule on day one and sends YOU reminders about ur own classes every day

makes a point to eat lunch with u whenever possible

also whenever Not possible too

like he'll come SPRINTING across campus after his class just to have lunch with u if that's what it takes

sue him, he likes spending time with u :(((

he's also thee best comforter during exam season omg!!!

more than willing to stay up all night studying with you if it makes you feel better

he knows how u spiral into panic if you're left on ur own, so the closer it gets to exams, he starts showering u with even MOREE affection than before

and you know he'll be showering u with kisses once exams r FINALLY out of the way as a congratulations 😙

always leaves snacks in your bag and little post-its with cat faces drawn on them to reminder you to drink water bc he KNOWS that you're so bad at taking care of urself when you're fully locked in

"hey junnie, you know you can just text me, right?" / "are you saying you don't like my cat drawings :((" / "whAT NO I WOULD NEVER—"

also just bc he's a broke college student does nawwt mean you'll ever catch him slacking as ur bf !!

gives you little gifts whenever possible, is always showing up at ur dorm with flowers, buys you books + clothes + stationary + groceries + whatever he can to show he cares

one thing he won't do, though, is catch bugs for you.

nuh uh. that is a no-go.

who cares that he's literally 600000x bigger than the spider? the spider is still WAYY scarier than he'll EVER be so he is NOT touching that no thank you.

the two of you stay glued to one corner of the library till ur friend arrives and scares the spider off

but junhui makes up for his bug-related uselessness by being useful in literally every other area of ur life

hungry? he'll cook for you. sick? he'll take care of you. stuck on an essay? he'll help you, even if he's not studying anything remotely related to ur major

he could be in the throes of finishing his dissertation, bags under his eyes and the world on his shoulders but he'll still drop everything to help you

what can he say? he's in love with u.

and what makes it even better is he knows, he knows that you'd do the exact same thing for him too

you're so full of love, so kind and wonderful that he can't help but do all of this in return, just to try and give an ounce of that same love back

it's the least you deserve, he thinks.

(and don't tell anyone, but right after graduation, he's thinking of getting you a promise ring and taking u to visit china with him b4 u go to ur respective internships.)

(and then, further down the line... he's really hoping to marry you one day. you know. because he really does love you a lot. hopefully you love him just as much too.)

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[bbysredhearts]

hi mls! divider by @anitalenia

| warnings: oral sex (fem receiving), fingering thinking about newlywed husband!satoru <3

newlywed husband! satoru has been walking in heaven since you got married. you're his wife now, and he's your husband. he hasn't stopped saying it to anyone who will listen (no one will). his coworkers are just glad he was away on honeymoon for the first weeks.

newlywed husband! satoru is horrified when you come home from your very first mission after your honeymoon with an injury! how could he let this happen? to his wife, of all people?

newlywed husband!satoru who, no matter how many times you reassure him that it's just a few scratches, and that you're fine, will not be consoled. and really, you are fine. and it really is just a few scratches, maybe some small bruises here and there. but it's perfectly normal. the only major-ish things are the still bleeding cuts on your arms and your pretty face. newlywed husband! satoru doesn't seem to care, though. he just whines and tells you that he's so sorry as he picks you by your waist and carried you all the way to the kitchen.

newlywed husband! satoru who takes one look at the scratches on your cheeks and forehead and has tears welling up in his eyes. partially because his wife is so pretty (which he hasn't stopped saying since you got married) and partially because he can't believe he could let this happen. you just sigh and roll your eyes at his antics. he'll always be like this. but you can't deny the way your heart melts and your eyes soften when you see his sad stare. he settles you down on the counter and gets on his knees in front of you, kissing the scratches on your face as he moves down and your arms as tears stream down his cheeks. he says he feels betrayed when he hears you giggle at his stupidity.

newlywed husband! satoru also has to make you feel better (you feel fine). and, luckily for him, he knows the perfect way to do it. newlywed husband! satoru who says it's just to "check for any more injuries" when he pulls your pants down your ankles, but ends up eating you out on the counter anyways, his tears mixing in with your juices. newlywed husband! satoru won't stop saying he's sorry while he sucks on your clit, your heels pressed against his back. even if you try to whine out that it's not his fault, you can't make out the words with his long fingers suddenly thrusting inside you without warning.

newlywed husband! satoru who makes you cum, 2, 3, 5 times in his mouth and on his fingers before finally getting up. he just hugs you, face burying in your neck, murmuring in your ear that he'll never let you get hurt again. you and newlywed husband! satoru obviously both know this won't be the last time you get a scratch on a mission, and it won't be the last time he reacts like this. but you don't mind. you love your husband <3

______________ A/N: i really hate this, sorry :( it's my first time here mls

[kestrel-of-herran]

there's sooooo much meaning in mark turning and walking back towards helly and so many layers to the scene in terms of both emotions and narrative implications.

up to this point they both thought they were about to die. mark would get gemma out of lumon for his outie, turn into him and wait on his mercy to be sucked into his consciousness in a capacity that might render him into nothing more than an echo or a ghost, and helena would never turn back into helly because mark scout and gemma would expose lumon and terminate the innies' existance. mark s. is staring at this oblivion when he's staring at the door and the woman he doesn't recognize calling out for a version of him that needs him only for the labor he can provide for him in dulling his pain and earning his money and rescuing his wife.

when the red lights turn on over helly she thinks it's already over, that mark got gemma out and she'll never get to see him again. britt said the alarm reminds her of her escape attempt at the staircase, so this is where she runs to on impulse, for the slightest chance she might be able to see him again.

when she calls out his name it's just a single word to all of gemma's cries and pleas, but it's the only time in this scene when "mark" denotes him, the innie. her voice and the sight of her at the end of the corridor ground him back to himself, remind him he is a person, he has people who care about him and love him and want him because of who he is, not who he could be, and that he has things he wants and people he doesn't want to lose. he might have nothing in this world built just to control him but he has this choice and he has her and their love.

when he starts walking to helly he's made that choice with every atom of his body, but she still doesn't understand, she's thinking maybe he wants to tell her something, maybe he's coming just to say goodbye. it only hits her fully when she sees his expression, all the love and desire and rapture there, all the feeling in his heart, that this is real, that he's making this choice, which means she's not about to die and she's not about to lose him. the girl who didn't want to live half a life has become the only thing he wants to live for. it's this sublime moment of disbelief and relief at the enormity of salvation that can be achieved through your actions when you didn't ever hope you could be saved.

and then he takes her hand, and nothing exists in the world but them anymore. the world was built for lovers all along. he looks at her like he wants to drink her in and she finally lets herself have it, lets herself feel joy and pride and this conviction, my love mine all mine, nothing in the world belongs to me but my love does. and triumph, too, she chose well, she gave her heart to him and he's more than worthy of having it, and love as a source of power and lust for life, if it's the two of them against the world nothing can stand in their way.

the music is enormously important here, it coocoons them in their emotional journey, shelters them from the incomprehensible anguish of the outsider. this moment is only for them, their connection something they built and earned and will continue to fight for, independently and in spite of every controlling entity in their lives.

it's an action that is also a statement, a discovery and definition and actualization of self, i'm this kind of person, i'm the kind of person who wouldn't lose you. it's a rubicon moment, a point of no return which is the start of time, a line whose crossing will remap their world.

what he did is life-defining for both of them, the choice to put themselves and their love first, the choice to say i am a person worthy of life and joy and agency. the triumph of the human spirit over the dehumanization of the dystopian narrative.