#out of all the times we spent together my favorite moment was at our book club meeting / park hangout

[catgirltitties]

I want to hear about your favorite memory with a random friend of yours from past or present, in tags/reply/reblog :)

[littleprinces]

Day 12: Age Gap

Haerin x Male Reader

Kinkvember Day 12

She was sitting alone at a quaint coffee shop in Greenwich Village, her eyes scanning the crowd as she sipped her latte. She was new to the city and hadn't made many friends yet. As she looked up from her book, her gaze met mine. I was a 40-year-old man with a lean, muscular build, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her youthful charm.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning over her table. "I couldn't help but notice your book. Are you enjoying it?"

She looked up at me, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's a classic. Have you read it?"

I nodded. "Many times. It's one of my favorites."

We spent the next hour talking about literature, art, and the city. Haerin was intelligent and witty, and I found myself increasingly drawn to her. As we left the coffee shop together, I suggested we continue our conversation over dinner. She agreed, and we walked to a nearby restaurant.

Over dinner, our conversation turned more personal. I learned about her dreams and aspirations, and she asked about my experiences in the city. The chemistry between us was palpable, and as the night wore on, I found myself wanting her more and more.

"You know," I said, leaning closer to her across the table, "I've really enjoyed our conversation tonight. But I have to admit, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but you."

She blushed slightly, her eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Is that so?"

I nodded. "Yes. In fact, I think I'd like to see you again. And not just for dinner."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

I leaned in, my voice low and husky. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Haerin."

She held my gaze for a moment before her eyes flicked down to my lips. "I think I do," she whispered.

The following week, Haerin came over to my apartment. As soon as she walked in, I could see the desire in her eyes. I poured us some wine, and we sat on the couch, our bodies close but not yet touching.

"You're beautiful, Haerin," I said, my hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been thinking about you all day long."

She leaned into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. "I've been thinking about you too," she admitted.

I leaned in and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow my tongue to explore her mouth. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense.

I broke away from her lips and trailed kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. She moaned softly, her head falling back to give me better access. I nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp.

"You taste so good," I murmured, my hand sliding up her thigh. "I want to taste more of you."

She shivered at my words, her breath coming in short gasps. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her smooth, creamy skin. I leaned down and captured one of her nipples in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before sucking gently.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her hands tangling in my hair. "That feels so good."

I switched to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. Haerin's body was on fire, her hips moving restlessly against mine. I could feel her heat through her jeans, and I knew she was ready for more.

I unbuttoned her jeans and slipped a hand inside, finding her wet and ready. I stroked her slowly, my fingers exploring her folds. She gasped and bucked against my hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"You're so wet," I murmured, my voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

I slid my fingers out of her and brought them to my lips, sucking them clean. Her eyes widened at the sight, and I could see the desire in them. I pushed her back onto the couch and slid down her body, my hands gripping her hips.

I hooked my fingers into her jeans and panties and pulled them down, revealing her glistening pussy. I leaned in and ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her sweetness. She moaned and arched her hips, giving me better access.

I licked and sucked at her clit, my tongue swirling around it before flicking it lightly. Haerin's moans grew louder, her hands gripping the couch cushions. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit her G-spot.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her hips moving in time with my fingers. "Right there, don't stop."

I kept up the pressure, my fingers moving in and out of her while my tongue worked her clit. Her breath came in short gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge.

"I'm close," she panted. "So close."

I increased the pressure, my fingers moving faster and harder. Haerin cried out, her body convulsing as she came. I lapped up her juices, savoring her taste.

I stood up and undressed quickly, my cock rock hard and ready. Haerin watched me, her eyes filled with desire. I climbed on top of her, my cock poised at her entrance.

"Are you ready for me?" I asked, my voice gruff with desire.

She nodded, her eyes locking onto mine. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready."

I pushed into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. She was tight and wet, her pussy gripping my cock like a velvet glove. I groaned at the sensation, my hips moving slowly at first before picking up speed.

"You feel so good," I grunted, my hips moving faster. "So tight and wet."

Haerin wrapped her legs around my waist, her hips moving in time with mine. "Faster," she begged. "Harder."

I obliged, my hips slamming into hers as I fucked her hard and fast. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, our moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"Oh, God, yes," Haerin cried out. "Right there, don't stop."

I could feel my orgasm building, my cock throbbing inside her. I reached between us and rubbed her clit, my fingers moving in time with my hips. Haerin's eyes rolled back, her body tensing as she came again.

"I'm going to come," I groaned, my body tensing as I pushed into her one last time. "I'm going to fill you with my cum."

I came with a roar, my body shaking as I filled her with my seed. I collapsed on top of her, our bodies slick with sweat. I rolled off of her and pulled her into my arms, our bodies still joined.

"That was incredible," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

I smiled, my eyes closed. "It was," I agreed. "And I'm not done with you yet."

We spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, our passion and desire never waning. As the sun rose, we lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies sated and satisfied.

[fanficsformyfaves]

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever Pt.1

Rhea Ripley x Fem Prostitute!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Prostitution, Mentions Of Abusive Pimp and Past Trauma, Confessions

PREFACE: Reader was Rhea's favorite girl to call on a Saturday night, but little did she know that the wrestler was falling harder and harder with each visit

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

As we stumbled into her bedroom, our hands were all over each other, as our lips met in yet another heated exchange. I pull away briefly to get on my knees, when she stops me.

"Not tonight", she exhaled,

I pout playfully.

"You never let me go down on you"

"Cause that's my job"

My eyebrows furrow at the irony of that sentence.

Rhea had been my main client for the last year. She'd always pay the most, which got her the longest sessions, so I wasn't complaining...except for the fact that I was getting attached.

I couldn't deny it. From the first night we spent together, I knew she wasn't just a regular client. We'd just got done going at it for hours and just when I go to gather my clothes, she stops me.

"You don't have to leave yet", she breathes out,

Leaving me confused.

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, we could just lay here a while"

This was a first. As obvious as it sounded, I've gotten accustomed to being hastily shoed away right after my sessions, that I was genuinely caught off guard.

"Are you sure?"

"Why not? Do you have any other clients to attend to?"

"Not tonight", I answered,

Suddenly overcome with a new found shyness.

She offered a small smile, before taking me by the hand back to bed. The rest of the evening, I laid in her arms, as she slowly caressed the expanse of my back. We didn't talk or do much of anything past that, besides enjoy the gentle silence and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt like a person again.

Not just entertainment for someone's pleasure or something to be used. A person.

I know that might not make much sense, but when you've spent so long feeling like you've had to fight for your life everyday, the simple things remind you that it's worth living.

But that in and of itself was a double-edged sword. I couldn't get too used to the comforts I find, cause I knew it was only a matter of time before it gets taken away from me or I end up ruining a good thing for myself. I knew the pains of being used and left behind like trash on the road and I couldn't allow myself to go through that again.

When the morning came, we were still entangled in each other's limbs under the sheets and as much as I wish I could just stay in that moment for longer, I knew my boss would get pissed at me if I missed an appointment.

So with that, I carefully slipped out of her grasp and got dressed, before leaving.

It didn't take long before she booked me again for the following Saturday.

And the one after that and the one after that. With each passing meet, we slowly got to know each other past the physical things like her job, her interests, etc.

"Why'd you get into wrestling?" I asked,

As she lit my cigarette for me.

"Well, I had to do something with this strength...besides carrying pretty girls like you into my room", she teased,

Bringing a blush to my face.

"You say that to all your girls", I challenged,

"No...just my favorite"

Her thumb gently tracing back and forth on my thigh.

Yes, the actual sex was good, but nothing beats what happens afterwards. The talks, the cuddling, the smoking on her balcony. It was all I could want and more.

Which only made it all the more harder to swallow the feelings that were desperately trying to claw their way out of me. I even asked my boss if he could start booking me with other people instead for the sake of not jeopardizing anything, but of course, that wasn't how things worked.

"You're making demands now? You think you're someone special?"

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"You want this job?"

"Yes, but-"

"Tough shit, then. You take what I give you or you walk. You need me more than I need you. I don't care how pretty that face is. You ain't getting special treatment", he said,

Slamming the door in my face.

I was just gonna have to figure it out on my own, whilst pretending like everything was fine, which brings us back to where we were now.

"Plus, you'll ruin the surprise"

She slips my top off over my head, before helping me out my skirt.

"Look at you", she whispered,

Pulling me in by hips, before kissing me once more.

She eventually backed me up against the bed, whilst I unbuttoned her blouse. My eyes wander up and down her inked skin, as my tongue swiped over my top lip in anticipation. I licked a stripe all the way up her abdomen, before eventually meeting her mouth with mine. Her fingers get a grip on my roots, gently pulling my head back to leave wet kisses against my neck.

One thing about Rhea is that she's passionate in the way she touches. She wants me melting before she even truly got started.

She reaches behind me, undoing my bra, as I worked to get my underwear down. I then tug at her sports bra, signaling that I wanted it gone, to which she tugs it off and drops it at our feet. My mouth immediately wraps around one of her stiff buds, causing quiet groans to escape her smeared lips.

"That's it", she praised,

Cradling my head and gently sitting me down. I undo her jeans and pull them down, revealing the surprise in question.

"When did you get this?"

"Came in this morning", she said answered,

Brushing a strand behind my ear.

It was a good length and the thickness was sure to leave me feeling this night well into tomorrow. She's used toys on me before, but nothing quite like this.

"Mind getting it ready for me, darling?"

I chew at my bottom lip, looking up at her with a mischievous grin, before taking the strap into my hand and running my tongue over the tip.

Her eyes stared daggers into my bare skin, taking in every second of the little show I was putting on. Eventually, she pulls away and gets me on my hands and knees. I hear shuffling and just as I go to turn to see what she was doing, I feel her tongue press against my soaked heat. I let out a gasp, feeling the cold metal of her piercing rub against my clit.

Her fingers began rubbing up and down my entrance and with no resistance left in the way, she pushes two digits into me, pressing directly against my sweet spot.

"Oh, God!", I cried,

"He can't hear you", she smiled against me,

Sending chills up my spine.

She spends a good few minutes between my legs bringing me closer and closer to edge and at the very last second, she pulls away with a huff. I whine at the loss of her touch, but she was quick to soothe me.

"Patience, love", she exhales,

Wiping her mouth of my taste and reaching over to shove them in my mouth. I couldn't have accepted faster.

"So good", she says,

Pressing kiss after kiss against my shoulders and back, whilst lining up the toy with my slit. She thrusted into me in one swift motion, shamelessly ripping a scream of her name out of me.

It wasn't long till her momentum picked up and she was repeatedly hitting the spot I needed most. The tight grip she had on my hips would surely leave marks, but did I care? No. I was so engulfed in the pleasure, that all possible consequences ceased to exist.

She then reaches under me and began toying with my already-sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Rhea!", I cried out,

Grabbing behind for one of her hands.

I was at the brink of coming fully undone and it didn't help that her pace only grew more relentless with each pound.

"I'm here, darling", she groaned.

Unbeknownst to me, her own core was rubbing against the harness, meaning she was also chasing a high of her own.

"God, the things you do to me", she praised,

Biting down on my skin, which added even more fuel to the fire that was consuming me whole. The knot in the pit of my stomach was on the verge of snapping apart and I knew she could tell I was close.

"Do it. Fuck, cum!", she moaned,

And with that, I was hurled over the edge along side with her. She kept going, allowing me to ride the orgasm to its last legs, before we both fell against the sheets.

I desperately tried to catch any breath my lungs would allow, as she did the same, holding me in her arms. It took a few moments, but eventually, my vision found its way back to me, despite still seeing stars from how intense it all was.

After allowing me to fully calm, she gently pulls out, making me whine at the sore emptiness.

She soothed my aches with a few quiet hushes, whilst turning me to hold my frame in her arms.

"You did so well", she reassured,

Kissing me softly.

The remainder of the night we had left was spent with her just holding me.

Something about tonight felt different. She was more quiet compared to how she usually was.

"Something on your mind?", I asked,

Looking up into her eyes.

"Nothing. Just you"

There goes my heart again, drumming against the walls of my chest.

"Could I ask you something?"

I nodded against her bicep, not tearing my eyes away from hers.

"Do you ever wish it could just be this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Just...you and me?"

My heart went from beating at the speed of light to a sudden pause.

"Rhea"

I sit up, pulling the comforter to cover myself.

"I've just been thinking about it", she continued,

"I like you, (Y/N). It's all I've been able to think about"

"You don't mean that"

"I do", she takes my hand into hers,

"That isn't how this works", I sighed.

I could tell she could sense the reluctancy and indecision in my voice.

"We'll never know if we don't try", she argued,

And at this point, I could feel myself holding back tears threatening to spill.

"You pay for my time and I service you. That's it"

She turns away and that's when I knew it was over. I managed to destroy what could be my last shot at something worth living for.

"I'm sorry", I said,

Stepping out of bed.

Not wanting wallow in the mess I made any longer, I simply just got dressed and left without another word. As painful as it was to go for the very last time, I knew it was for the better.

Or so I thought.

[iouinotes]

match made in heaven | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: just kissing word count: 2,2k

summary: At your birthday party you get dared to spend 7 minutes in heaven with none other than your best friend Alex.

a/n: A modified review of "Beautiful boy" Thank you @rogueanschel-reads for the woderful idea!

"Come on, even a stranger can sense your attraction for each other, the hidden love that lays beneath your friendship."

Maybe it wasnt the best idea to play truth or dare.

Well, firstly I want to say that I love my friendgroup. Grace, Skylar, his boyfriend Nathan, Kiley and of course, my best friend Alex.

Really, I love these guys. But sometimes they make me want to jump off a cliff, no regretting or turning back.

In moments like this, where I want to spent a good time partying with my friends, because its my 16th birthday, they need to remind me of the he-who-must-not-be-named-topic. That means for outstanders, my non-existent, strictly friendly feelings for my best friend Alex.

The guy, who has absolutely no idea, he's being compared to Voldemort. But for the matter of fact, Harry Potter are my all-time favorite movies and early Voldemort was actually quiet handsome. So, it kinda makes sense. Why? Because Alex has put a spell on me with his smile and his pretty face.

But back to my party.

We are currently in the living room, our knees are touching the legs of the person next to us and someone (Grace) encouraged us to smuggle a few bottles of alcohol to the party, even though we didnt plan to drink.

Now, Skylar had the great idea to embarrass everyone by playing truth or dare, but with a twist. He likes to call it "match made in heaven" or what it actually means, making out in a closet. Something like that, I've never participated in any of these games.

Until now.

As I am the birthday girl, I started the game by choosing truth. But I could really have just voluntarily confessed my feelings for Alex. Because Grace winked at me and I knew at that moment, that the next few minutes meant trouble.

"So, y/n. Describe us your magical boy, that you dream of being able to call your own." I knew it. She could have just asked me what college I wanted to attend or something less embarrassing, but no. She needed to ask me about my type in boys, which obviously is my handsome, brown haired best friend next to me.

As I'm about to hide my head in my hands, I hear the encouraging shouts of the people I call my friends.

"Okay, okay. Let me think for a moment." I couldnt make it that obvious, I liked him. But still, it was worth a try.

"Someone who has an angelic smile, where you just stare at his face and can´t stop looking at him. I-I like brown hair and I dont know, what it is, but hazel eyes, they somehow make my heart beat faster. I mean- he´s attractive, because he is a gentleman. Caring and supportive, someone who listens to my wants and needs, but still continues to be his true self. I can read books with him or we watch movies together and talk about it after. He makes me feel seen, safe. I love him, because he is everything I could ever dream of and more."

When I finish speaking, Grace grins innocent and looks at me with her long eyelashes. "I wonder, who that could be."

My eyes secretly dart to Alex, trying to figure out, if he knows, that I am very obviously describing him. But he just watches the floor, his eyebrows are drawn together and I almost think, he looks annoyed.

"Someone is jealous" I hear Skylar´s voice in my ear.

As the game went on, his behavior kept being slightly off, even though he never said anything about it and continued to smile at me, when we looked at each other.

And then, Alex was asked about his favorite memory, whether it was about being in school, with family or with friends.

Well, he told them about the first time, he introduced me to his favorite book saga, the Lord of the Rings. I never knew, that day was so special for him, but as he described my hilarious reactions and facial features, how he saw my eyes widen with disbelief as he read out the first chapters, I remembered.

When I look back, it really was a wonderful night. We did a sleepover at his house and were talking about watching Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. Somehow, we also talked about the books and that I read the seven books about the famous wizard and he the books about the elves and other creatures (don´t judge me for this description). We discussed almost every aspect, but he still convinced me to give his favorite books a try. So we spent the night spread out on his bed, eating sweets and reading the first book. Well, he mostly read it out loud to me, because his pronunciation was definitely much better than mine. It was fun, also because I got to watch him being in his element, so it really was a heartwarming evening.

I smile at the memory, a warm feeling blooms in my chest and when he finishes talking about it, he looks at me fondly. I had to keep myself from wanting to giggle like a little girl, but my inner 13-year old, most definitely did giggle.

Back to the original topic. Next, Grace was dared to wear one of my clothes, Kiley told us about her celebrity crush (Timothee Chalamet, but you didnt hear it from me) and when Alex was asked who he would trust with his secret, if he was spiderman, he mentioned me again. It was sweet and I had planned to tell him, that I would love to be the girl in the chair.

But, as the game went on, my name constantly fell from his lips. He was dared to show one of the most terrible photos of him and revealed to the group, a snapshot from us, wearing unrecognizable Halloween costumes. Funny, but my idea to go as ghosts wasnt that bad.

Nevertheless, he talked about the best gift he had ever received, a pair of cowboy boots, I got him two years ago (Nathan was playfully annoyed that one of his presents werent the best one) and as the game continued, the question, that I tried my best to avoid, was eventually asked.

"You two are always around each other and I've barely seen you apart, like ever. Are you sure, there is nothing going on between you? It seems like it."

Alex and I looked at each other, but then quickly laughed it off. It was what we always did, when someone asked us about our close friendship. None of us really answered and that meant for me, that he neither confirmed or declined having feelings for me. Very confusing and bad for my hoping heart.

So, when our friends are looking at each other now, grinning like they planned something really wicked, I know, that my personal hell is waiting for me. Or in my situation, a modified version of heaven.

"Y/n, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with just your best friend Alex." Grace is smiling in front of me and when I want to debate about it, she cuts me off.

"But I havent said I would take dare-" my words are going silent and I only hear my pounding heart.

"You always choose truth, that´s boring. You get the dare now, so stand up and cuddle with your wizard!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Alex holds his hands out for me, so he can help me stand up. He silently looks at me and I try to assure him by smiling, but I think I´m failing at it. Because he looks as unnerved as I feel right now.

When we walk out of the room and into the small storage room, we hear Skylar´s distance shouting.

"No lights and close the door! That are the rules, we set the timer!"

Why was I friends with them again?

When we approach the room, unlocking the door and stepping inside, we are suddenly surrounded by darkness. And when he closes my only way to escape, its quiet for a moment. Then, I hear is curious voice.

"What did Grace mean about your wizard?"

I relax and gently laugh. Nothing has to happen, everything is fine.

"That you are as bad at keeping secrets than Draco. Harry really found out on the first day in 6th grade, that something was clearly up with him."

Alex groans. "Please no more talking about your Drarry shipping. I get it, it could have been an enemies-to-lovers romance."

I smack his arm, taking a step closer to him.

"Okay, what would you like to talk about instead?"

I can make out the outlines of his face in the darkness, seeing how he also takes a step closer. I feel myself breathing heavily and my hands nervously shaking.

"I think, that I should keep you warm, because I literally see your hands shaking." When he takes another step in my direction, I hold my breath and in the same second, I feel his arms wrap around me.

His hands find their way to my back, embracing me in his warmth until I feel him breathing on my neck. I need to stop myself from shivering at this feeling.

"I can work with that." I whisper, snuggling into his chest and closing my eyes. I hear his racing heart and immediately need to smile.

"Your heart is beating very fast." His chin rests on my head, I feel him holding me closer.

"It´s the darkness." Of course, it is.

When I also close my arms around his waist, I feel for the first time a kind of inner peace, that I read about in books.

When a character feels safe in the embrace of their beloved.

Silence surrounds us for a minute and I begin to thank Grace for her dare, because him holding me in his arms und me, hugging him, is much more than wonderful.

"When you call me a wizard, do I get to call you a witch?" I burst out a laughter at his question.

"Only if you won´t compare me to Umbridge." He nods quietly.

"You are as far away from being like Umbridge as the earth is away from the moon. So, you don´t have to worry."

"Good." We are silent again.

"So, have you ever thought about what you would do, if you would get to spent time with a person, when you have seven minutes in heaven?" I think for a few seconds, before I answer him.

"I always imaged this game as a way to confess feelings or solving a fight. Maybe a hidden chance to make out too, I guess."

I hear him taking a deep breath, not expecting much. Until-

"Can I kiss you?" My knees almost give out.

"You what-?" I turn to look at him. Noticing his widen pupils.

"I mean, would you, um, want to kiss. Like, me. Now. Not that you need to, but you sounded like you would want that experience, so-" he tries to hold a stable voice, but I can sense, that he's slowly freaking out.

"Alex. You just asked me, if we should kiss."

I can´t believe it.

"...yes?" He sounds so sincere.

"Why?" I ask, while continue to look at him, feeling every centimeter that divides our lips from touching.

"Like I said, I don´t want you to miss out on anything."

Silence.

"Okay and maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you, before that dream boy of yours does."

I lean forward, watching as his eyes keep looking at my lips, even though he tries to hold the eye contact.

I slowly raise my hand and place it on the back of his neck, caressing the dark hair and twirling a few strands.

"Are you jealous, pretty boy?" I feel his cheeks getting warm, seeing the effect my words have on him.

His hands hold me tighter and a startled expression is shown on his face.

"What? Me, jealous? No." I raise my eyebrows at him.

He signs. "Maybe. I dont like the thought of someone else with you." His thumb brushes over my lips.

"Kissing you, touching you. It just doesnt feel right, that someone else would do that."

"You mean, someone who isnt you?" I look at his lips and he hums quietly. His hand slowly wanders to my chin and directs my head closer to him, I can feel his breath on my skin.

"We don´t have to do it-" I begin to talk, but then again, when he speaks up, his voice sounds out of breath, like he's holding himself back.

"No, it´s just one...little...kiss" his voice becomes quieter, the less distance there is between our faces.

And with one, last look, he catches my lips in a slow kiss. Keeping me close to him, by holding onto my waist. His hands find their way to my cheeks, caressing them with his fingers and I feel my heart pounding as prominent against my chest as feel him kissing me.

I don't notice, that he's directing me back until I gently hit the wall, while his hands slowly explore my sides. My hands tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, so I can feel everything of him.

And in that moment, I understand the name of the game. Because this truly feels like heaven.

When I notice, that I can´t breath anymore (but who needs oxygen when you can have Alex Walter), we gently break apart. Still holding onto each other.

And as soon as we catch our breath, both of us are smiling at each other and we share our feelings without a word.

"That was-" he doesnt get to finish his sentence, because in a blink of an eye, the door opens and brightness consumes us.

We quickly break apart, but apparently too late, because Grace´s voice is the first one to tease us.

"Right, you are just friends."

You can imagine, what the entire evening after that was like...

[capuccinodoll]

The Dream

Before the sun hits (chapter three)

Summary: Joel takes a trip to your dreams, and it doesn't take long for you to let him know.

Warning: this chapter contains smut!

DECEMBER 19TH

With your coffee cup half-finished, you found yourself sitting across from your mother in what was probably the coziest place in town. Café Ophelia seemed like a love letter to the classic and romantic. It was located on the main avenue, and its charm was impossible to ignore. People came and went constantly, carrying red and brown paper bags filled with delicacies, while many held disposable coffee cups in their gloved hands. Seasonal flowers and plants adorned the place, survivors of the relentless cold outside, remaining vibrant in every nook and cranny. 

To the left, an entire wall was covered with books, arranged in a built-in library. When you walked through the door, your mother told you that the café had originally belonged to one of her high school teachers, and that after his passing, his younger brother had inherited the place without altering its essence. There was something about the place that made it feel as if time had stood still, as if it were a warm haven where one could hide from outside life. 

You walked past the shelves, your fingers brushing the worn covers of the books. You spotted editions of Shakespeare, Keats, Chaucer and were even surprised to find a copy of Bocaccio. There was a moment when you thought about grabbing one, but you restrained yourself. The aroma of coffee and soft conversations filled the air, creating an atmosphere of comfort that was hard to leave.

Now, your mother was just finishing narrating an anecdote about how she had met your father, right on that very same street, decades before.  

“It was instantaneous,” she said, her gaze lost somewhere near the ceiling. “I don't know if I could call it love at first sight, it was more like something else. Like something shook both of us at once.”

A smile broke out on your face. You always admired the love between your parents, it seemed to be such a perfect thing, as if they were meant for each other. In your case, you never felt something so strong, so definite. It wasn't for lack of trying, you just had never experienced that kind of connection, never.

“You see people every day, unfamiliar faces that don't tell you anything, they're just there. But when I saw your father, it was different. It was as if my body needed a moment to process it. Our eyes met and something inside me knew that, from that instant on, things would no longer be the same,” she continued. “After that, I just hoped to see him again, but I didn't have the courage to say anything to him.”

“And how was it that you saw him again?” you asked, although you already knew the story well. However, there was something special in the way your mother told it, a light in her eyes that made every time you heard it feel like the first.

“The next day I opened the bookstore, waiting for him to return. I thought, well, if he felt the same way I did, he has to come back. And he did. He came in, asked me what my favorite book was, and bought it. Then, he told me that he would stay in town for another week and asked me to help him with his reading.”

And she did. They spent that week seeing each other every day. At first, reading together; at the end, well, not so much. You never knew if your father had finished reading that book, though most likely he did. It was your mother's favorite, and it all had deep meaning for him. 

“I think there's something very intimate about sharing a book with someone,” your mother commented, turning her gaze back to you. “It's like showing that person a very vulnerable part of yourself. What we read says a lot about who we are. And when you share that, when you invite someone into that space, it's like you're sharing a part of your soul.”

You thought about the books you had lent Liam. Crime and Punishment, The Divine Comedy, Persuasion, and the Kafka diaries. He never returned them to you, and you were certain that he hadn't even opened them. He asked for them every time you mentioned them to him, as if he was interested, but he always remained in the promise of maybe someday getting to know that side of you. But that day never came.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” your mother's voice softly broke into your thoughts, distracting you. 

“I'm not sure, what would you like to do?”

“I meant you and Joel. I was thinking you could go to the movies or do something together. He could use that to clear his head a little. He's not having a very good time.”

The last thing caught your attention more than you expected. He's not having a good time? But first, that surprised you in a different way.

“Me and Joel?” you asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Didn't your father tell you?” Your mother looked at you waiting for an answer, and when you shook your head in the negative, she continued, ”We're going to dinner at the restaurant where we had our first date. We met around this time, don't you remember?”

Of course you remembered. You just forgot to make that connection.

“Are you celebrating something? I didn't know it was a special occasion, if I had, I wouldn't have come...and I'm sure Joel wouldn't either.”

“No, honey. It was always a family trip, we planned it that way. We just thought it would be nice to recreate that moment.” Her tone was soft but clear. “Your father and I wanted you to come. We've missed you so much, did you know that? And Joel was invited the same way, too.”

“I missed you guys too, though maybe I didn't say it as much.” You felt a small twinge of guilt in your chest, but you quickly brushed it away. “Besides, I'm really enjoying Canmore.”

“I know, who knows? Maybe you'll find someone special around here, too.” 

You laughed, though you felt a slight cringe at the idea. “I'm not so sure about that,” you replied, noting a reluctance in your voice.

Your mother placed both hands on the table and stared at you, as if she had just heard the silliest thing.

“I think it's about time you put that boy you were hanging out with behind you.”

Her words sounded harsher than she probably intended. She didn't know everything; well, you told her Liam was just a guy you were casually dating and that, by mutual agreement, you stopped seeing each other. You didn't mentioned the betrayal, nor the sudden engagement. Your mother wouldn't have stood for that truth. She would have jumped on the first plane to New York on the look for him, and then, maybe after a little cry on her shoulder... Yes, she would be mad at you.

“I'm over it,” you lied, as if it were the obvious thing to do. ”It just doesn't make sense to fall in love in Canmore if I have to leave in a few days."

“Think about this: your father, who is from Austin, and I, from Canmore, fell in love. Things worked out later.”

You laughed, with your mother's simple solution floating in the air. For her, everything had been easier. When she met your father, she had no family in Canmore; her parents had passed away when she was a teenager, and there were no more ties to bind her to the place. Moving to another country with the man she loved made the most sense.

“I could bring my love to Austin,” you joked. “Just like Dad did.”

“No New York?” 

The question was innocent, almost naïve. But you stayed quiet, feeling the guilt creep back into you, infiltrating the serenity you had managed to find.

“Yes, maybe to New York too.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, both of you finishing your hot drinks, letting yourself be enveloped by the tranquility of the coffee.

Before leaving, you ran your fingers through the old books in the library. An edition of The Decameron caught your eye, probably from the 1920s. The pages were yellowed, and the smell of aged paper made your nose itch. Between the lines, you could see annotations made in pencil by some unknown reader. You leaned over to read some notes in the foreword, but your mother interrupted you.

“Your father and Joel are a couple of blocks away, what do you say we go shopping and then find a nice place for dinner?”

You nodded, but Joel's name kept hanging around in your mind, dragging with it that phrase you couldn't stop thinking.

He's not having a good time.

*

The market stretched the length of the avenue, with vendors lined up under colorful awnings, offering sweets and homemade foods that filled the air with a warm, spicy aroma. Local stores were beginning to turn off their lights, preparing to close as the sun slowly descended on the horizon, tinting the sky in shades of pink and orange. It was close to seven o'clock in the evening, the cool air was beginning to settle over the town.

Your dad appeared down the sidewalk with a smile lighting up his face, patting Joel's arm playfully. Joel returned a look that was somewhere between amused and distracted, while their conversation died down as the two of them approached you.

“My precious girls, how was your afternoon?” your father greeted enthusiastically, coming over to plant a kiss on your cheek before leaning in to kiss your mother on the lips. You could tell he was in a good, relaxed mood.

“It's been wonderful,” your mother replied with a smile that reflected her own satisfaction. “What about you guys?”

Your eyes found Joel, who was now standing in front of you, avoiding your gaze with a somewhat suspicious concentration on anything but your face. His indifference seemed calculated to you, and you took the opportunity to study him in more detail. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket, and the scent of his perfume wafted up to you, soft but noticeable. You were surprised by it, just a little: you had never noticed him wearing perfume. Not even for that formal dinner at your house.

Perfume for going out to a bar? That idea left you with a funny feeling.

“We needed something like that, didn't we, Joel?” your dad said, giving his friend a knowing nudge.

“Like you have no idea,” Joel muttered, his tone drier than usual.

“I can think of something delicious for dinner tonight...” your mother began to say as she latched onto your father's arm and began to walk, leaving the conversation to flow just between them. Joel and you were left behind, in an awkward silence that you could almost touch.

You stuck your hands in your coat pockets, mimicking him. There was something in the air, something between you that you couldn't quite identify, but you felt it clearly. Maybe it was what your mother had mentioned earlier, that something that had him uneasy. The beers he'd probably had at the bar might have loosened the emotions he was carrying around. Or maybe... no, you didn't want to think about that second possibility.

After his visit to your room, you hadn't seen him again until now. He and your father left to the bar before you and your mother left the house, so you hadn't had a chance to notice if anything was different. But a few hours ago, when he stood in your doorway, looking at you... He had to have sensed the change in your voice, the way your eyes looked at him. He couldn't have missed it. And now, you felt slightly guilty about it.

Joel, one of your father's best friends, who had listened to you and supported you in a vulnerable moment, did you really need to insinuate yourself, however subtly? Probably not. But it wasn't something planned either. It was something that came up in that moment, something you couldn't control. And you'd always been told that your eyes couldn't lie.

Maybe he was uncomfortable because of it. You wish he wasn't.

“What would you like for dinner?” you asked, trying to break the silence. Up ahead, your parents were still immersed in their own conversation, oblivious to what was going on between you.

Joel let out a sigh that condensed into the cold air. “I don't know, something hot.”

“What's on your mind?” you insisted, trying to keep the dialogue going.

Finally, he turned to you with a quick, impatient glance, brow barely furrowed before averting his gaze again.

“Pasta.”

“Pasta sounds good,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue. “What kind of pasta?”

His lips tightened for a second, his jaw ticking briefly before he loosened his expression and looked at you again, this time longer.

“Which type of pasta do you prefer?” 

“Bolognese,” you said without hesitation.

“Well,” he replied, somewhat curtly, ”that one then.”

He looked straight ahead again. Clearly, something was bothering him. You could sense it in the way he avoided looking at you, and when he did, it was with a kind of reproach in his eyes, as if he had something to say to you but couldn't find the words. It was almost as if he was angry.

“Joel,” you mentioned in a soft, slightly guarded tone of voice, ”can I ask you a question?”

“I have a feeling I don't have a choice,” he replied, his tone sarcastic and disinterested, but not loud enough for your parents to hear. They were still walking a few feet ahead, your father looking a little drunk, but just enough for happiness to overwhelm him. Your mother listened attentively, laughing from time to time, absorbed in her own world.

You looked back at Joel. His comment, though predictable, bothered you a little. 

“You could just say no, next time.” Your voice came out harsher than you had planned, not disguising your irritation.

You quickened your pace, trying to join your parents and get away from him. But Joel, with his long strides, caught up with you easily. He moved a little closer, close enough that you didn't have to raise your voice much when he asked:

“What's your question, then?”

“I don't have anything to ask you anymore.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

“It doesn't?”

“That's what I said.”

“Whatever. You clearly don't feel like talking. So no, I don't have any more questions to ask you.”

Joel let out a low, somewhat mocking laugh, pulling away just inches. He didn't say anything else, which, oddly enough, irritated you even more. His silence letting you know that he was in control of the situation, and that made you feel like a wayward child, even if it bothered you to admit it.

“What's funny, Joel?” you said after a while, a belated and overthought response.

“Does it make you mad that I don't feel like talking to you?” he replied, a faint, almost undetectable smile forming on his face.

Your mind couldn't help but focus on the way he decided to phrase the sentence. He could have simply said “are you mad that I don't feel like talking?” but chose to add a with you, and it hadn't sounded random at all. You didn't know what that meant. Maybe you were overanalyzing it. Maybe you were.

“No, it angers me that you're not clear. I'm a grown woman, you know? I don't need you to act like you're talking to a chatty little girl,” your voice spoke firmly. “Just say you're not in the mood to talk and I won't bother you anymore.”

“I don't mind you talking to me,” he clarified, coming back up to your level; the scent of his perfume hitting you again. “Why do you think that?”

Several reasons, you thought. From his perspective, you were his best friend's daughter, the one who, almost without knowing him, forced him into a bathroom to listen to you cry and complain about your sorry life. Oh, you did it in the cabin that morning, too, with him looking at you pityingly, following you to your room to ask how you were doing. 

What an idiot. You sure had misunderstood everything. Joel was just concerned, surely from his place as what he was; your father's best friend, father of a female daughter, Sarah. 

You felt a little foolish for having diverted your thoughts that way. And worst of all, he had surely realized it. That was humiliating. 

“Because you don't have to, Joel,” you spoke almost in a whiny whisper. “I've bothered you enough by telling you my problems. I sure have looked like a stupid little girl, crying in the bathroom, making you promise things you don't have to. It's embarrassing.”

“It's not like that,” he began to say, his voice tinged with something akin to dismay. “And you're not stupid, much less a little girl. That much is clear to me.” 

“Sometimes it feels like that. A lot of times, lately.”

“Well,” he uttered at length, his eyes meeting yours and you noticed he was searching for words to say, ”if it makes you feel any better, I think you're a grown woman who knows exactly what she's doing, and what it's causing.”

There it was. Right there, in Joel's eyes, the proof that you hadn't imagined it. Or would you be misinterpreting his words? The idea sounded far-fetched. 

Joel smiled as if he knew exactly what he had just done, and without warning, he moved a few inches away from you, closer to your parents.

Your cheeks must have flushed, the heat on your face told.  

You hurriedly covered those few centimeters that distanced you from him and opened your mouth, ready to let out a meaningless retort. But just then, your mother turned, drawing your attention. The spell was suddenly broken.

To your luck (or bad luck) at dinner, he didn't sit across from you.

*

You arrived at the cabin around ten o'clock at night. Your parents, completely in their own world, had spent the time dragging Joel through a review of the last few years; “Remember this?”, “Remember that time when we...?”, “What happened to her, Joel?”. Most of the questions asked in an amusing way, some a little somber. But Joel had enjoyed it, or so you had gathered, for he had answered and extolled each of your father's anecdotes. 

Your gazes met from time to time, but the exchange was brief; as if you were doing something on the sly, as if no one could know you were looking at each other. And that was kinda the case. He would glance at you while one of your parents was talking, and just when you noticed and mimicked him, his gaze would drop to his plate, or to anything but you. 

For your part, you had eaten almost silently, listening attentively to everything that was said at the table. Everything was simpler if no one was asking you uncomfortable questions. 

Now, back at the cabin, your parents were laughing merrily in the kitchen as they reviewed the entire day and uncorked a bottle of merlot.

You plopped down on the living room couch and checked your phone as the background conversation revolved around a former schoolmate your mother had run into today while you two were shopping. It had been a somewhat awkward encounter, the kind where you don't know how to say goodbye without sounding completely avoidant. He told her he had two children and was in the middle of a divorce, and your mother made the big mistake of asking him a question about it. It held you up for thirty minutes. 

You had nothing interesting in your incoming texts, nor in your outgoing ones. Liam... you didn't check his profile and it wasn't like you could know either; you blocked him. Ally would be very happy about that. But curiosity stalked you gently.

The weight falling next to you took your eyes off the small screen. Joel had sat to your right, a safe distance away. His body relaxed, his broad frame stretched nonchalantly....

“Would you like a glass of wine, Miller?” your father asked, craning his neck from the kitchen island.

 

“M' fine. I think I'll go to bed,” he said with both palms pressed to his eyes, ”enough for today.”

“What about you, my love?” your mother's voice echoed through the wide space of the cabin. 

“I could make use of it,” you joked, joke masked for all of them.

You got up and walked to the kitchen, where your mother extended the full cup in just the right way. 

You didn't make too much conversation either. The talk between them was interesting enough that you were just listening to their voices. That was something you had always liked about your parents; their conversations were dynamic and fun, always. Every single thing they talked about turned into the coolest thing in the world, as if they were your own audiobook, always with something entertaining to say. 

When you were a child, you would lie in the middle of them in bed, listening to them talk about different things; movies, gossip, novels, whatever. They used to say you were nosy, and maybe that was true from time to time. 

Joel was still on the couch, only now a faint sound was coming out of his mouth. Soft tired snores were moving his chest up and down. You watched him from your spot until you finished your drink and your eyes felt heavy and stinging. You rubbed them for a while, until the action became futile.

“I'm going to bed,” you said to your parents. Your mother pulled you closer to her and rested your head on her chest. Your father, a little more affectionate, squeezed you in his arms in an exaggerated manner. 

“Wake him up,” he told you, almost in a whisper. 

You nodded and walked away from his side, leaving the empty cup in the sink before crossing the kitchen and heading towards the living room. You couldn't help but pause for a second in front of him, watching his face, the soft, relaxed lines of one who is sound asleep. His calm expression, so peaceful, almost fragile, awakened in you an unbearable tenderness. The dark locks, some already intermingled with gray, fell messily over his forehead, while his lips, still stained with the red wine from dinner, remained half-open, and the beard began to unalign, just a little. You felt a sudden impulse to touch him.

“Joel,” you whispered as your fingers sank gently but firmly into his arm. “Joel, wake up.”

He stirred barely, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. A light laugh escaped your lips, small and private. Even asleep, Joel clung to that essence so much his own.

“Come on, Joel,” you repeated, this time with a little more intent in your voice.

You put your hand back on his arm and shook him gently. Finally, his heavy eyelids lifted with effort, and he straightened up, standing still for a few seconds, elbows resting on his knees, hands covering his face as he tried to clear his head. 

You stood by his side, silently, watching him sigh with visible fatigue. When he looked up and found you, you smiled at him, and he responded with a brief smile before looking back down at the floor. After a few seconds, he rose from the couch leisurely, glancing back towards the kitchen, where your parents were still chatting about something that was already irrelevant to you.

“See you tomorrow,” Joel muttered, approaching them and, as he passed you, heading for the stairs. You followed him, without much thought.

“See you, Joel. Get well,” you heard your father tease, his voice slurring as you walked after Joel up the stairs.

He was big. You'd always known he was big, of course, but now that you saw him from behind, his back moved with a particular cadence that gave you a curious mix of excitement and nervousness. The back of his neck, visible between the tufts of hair, seemed warm, inviting a caress or, perhaps, the brush of your lips. You caught yourself imagining it, wondering what it would be like to kiss that part of him, to kiss Joel.

You entered the hallway that led to your rooms, and the distance between you shortened almost unnoticed. Joel had his back turned, about to open the door to his room, when he turned to you with an expression on his face that you couldn't quite decipher.

“Your dad told me to take care of you tomorrow,” he commented, with a tone that made you smile.

“What a coincidence, my mom told me the same thing about you.”

He smiled too, and the gesture brightened his eyes, still heavy with sleep. “She said that?”

“Yes, that's what she said,” you reaffirmed, the smile still on your face.

“Sounds like them,” Joel murmured affectionately.

You let out a sigh you didn't even know you'd been holding in since the morning, a quiet but satisfying release. You nodded, resting your hand on your doorknob, mirroring his posture.

“Yeah, it does,” you said, finally, opening the door. “Good night, Joel.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his voice low and soft, before he dissappeared as he entered his room.

You closed your door tighter than necessary, surprised by how much those simple words had affected you, by the echo of his voice reverberating in your mind. The way his eyes had closed slightly as he smiled kept replaying in your memory. Maybe it had been your parents' merlot or the malbec at dinner, but later, in the shower, you found yourself fighting the urge to drag his name with your fingertips across your entire body. You fought with the idea of giving him that space, that power, without him knowing, because if you did, you'd have to acknowledge what you'd been repressing since the first time you saw him (actually saw him) sitting on your parents' couch, watching you with those dark eyes that pierced you without even trying.

No. Joel Miller hadn't the slightest idea what he had brought upon you, but somehow, you thought, he would have to pay for it.

The last thing that crossed your mind before you fell asleep, was his name.

*

A soft sound woke you. A barely perceptible thump. You closed your eyes again, convinced it would be someone going to the bathroom. Probably your dad. But then, you felt him. His weight sinking the mattress slowly behind you, his body approaching with a familiarity that quickened your pulse. A warm hand slid around your waist, squeezing you gently, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt. You lay still, feeling his breath brush against the back of your neck.

You turned your head, just enough to feel his lips touch your earlobe.

“Joel...” You tried to say, but your breath caught the words in your throat.

“What do you want, huh? Staring at me like that during dinner, with your parents right there. Did you think I wouldn't notice?” His voice, a warm whisper against your skin, made a liquid sensation form in your belly.

His hand moved away from your waist, slowly sliding down, just below your navel, pressing firmly against the soft flesh. You felt his body completely pressed against yours, his heat radiating into you. Your back wedged against his chest, your ass touching his hardness. You closed your eyes and his mouth found your neck, leaving small, scattered kisses across your sensitive skin.

A moan escaped your lips as his fingers reached your center, stroking your swollen clit in slow, circular motions, wrenching a devastating sensation from you.

“Joel, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me. Use your words.”

Your teary eyes widened as you felt him slide a finger inside you, the rhythm of his hand increasing in intensity, making the sensation become unbearable. 

“Are you going to be a good girl and tell me what you want?” he insisted, as another finger was added, moving inside you with a precision that made you shudder.

“Fuck me, Joel. Please,” you managed to say in a weak voice, broken by urgency.

You felt him move behind you, and in an instant, his firm hand pulled down your underwear with a swiftness that took your breath away. He pulled you to him by the hips, his erection pressing against your lower back.

“Now, behave yourself and be quiet,” he murmured, caressing your thighs as he gently spread your legs. “Can you do that?”

A faint “yes” came out of your mouth as you pushed your ass towards him, seeking contact, with unfamiliar desperation. Joel placed his hand on your neck, squeezing gently as he pushed his erection inside you, each movement making you moan. But this time, the sound was caught by his hand, covering your lips.

“Quiet,” his voice, agitated and breathy, made you shiver. He pressed even harder against you, his thusts increasing in speed and depth. The sound of his hips crashing against yours became a heady melody, and your whole body felt like it was on the verge of exploding. 

His fingers in your mouth tasted of salt and yourself, and that turned you on even more. Joel gasped, the sound so intimate it made you throb inside, right where his body touched you with each thrust. The sensation became unbearable, more intense, until your legs shook with the built up tension.

You brought your hand to his, trying to hold on to something as your body convulsed in an orgasm that swept over you like an uncontrollable wave. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to process the tide of pleasure that washed through you.

The climax slowly subsided, and your eyes opened to find the room engulfed in darkness. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to calm down, and your breathing hitched... It was still dark. 

The clock on your phone read three in the morning.

How had that been possible? Joel, in your dream, it was as if he had been there, beside you. You felt him, you had felt him. And it had been so much better than almost any of your real experiences. 

You were fucked, completely fucked. And, oh, God, how much you wished you were really fucked by Joel Miller. 

You sighed, sitting up in bed, your body still tender, your mind in chaos. Your mouth was dry, a thirst that only heightened the desire you'd been feeling. You turned on the lamp on the bedside table and reached under the bed for your slippers. 

As you stood up, you felt the wetness between your legs, testimony to the dream you had just had. You cursed Joel silently.

You stepped out into the hallway, your footsteps soft, and couldn't help but stare at his closed door. Just imagining he was on the other side sent an electric tingle through your belly. You decided to ignore it, forcing yourself not to think about it anymore, and walked down the stairs in silence.

When you got downstairs, you noticed the kitchen light still on and prayed it wasn't one of your parents. You walked cautiously, approaching the light, and saw him... Joel, leaning against the counter, a glass of water in his hand, the other resting in the pocket of his gray pants. His gaze was lost on the floor, his hair disheveled and his face showing the marks of recent sleep.

You thought about going back to your room, but then he saw you, startled.

“Jesus, you're quiet,” he said, ironically making you remember him  in your dream. “You scared me to death, what are you doing?”

“I need a glass of water,” you replied, approaching cautiously.

Joel moved, taking a glass out of the cabinet and setting it on the kitchen island. He opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and slowly pouring it into the glass. You watched him, and soon realized you were looking at him a little too obviously.

He handed you the glass and leaned back on the counter, his eyes fixed on you as you drank.

“Your cheeks are pink,” he observed, which only made them redden more. “Are you okay?”

Yeah, sure. I just dreamed you fucked me, nothing major.

“I... yeah, I'm fine. I had a dream...” you started to say, slowing down for some reason. Your eyes darted down and up his body, too obvious. For some reason, when it came to him, you couldn't shut up. 

Joel looked at you a little confused, reading your countenance, and an idea seemed to pop into his mind. 

“A strange dream,” you finished, trying to play it down, though you both knew there was much more behind those words.

“A strange dream?” he said, his voice groping for your reaction. “About what?”

“I'm not sure,” you replied as you approached the sink, setting the glass down with an almost careless gesture. As you walked past him, your hand brushed his, barely, a split second that made your skin electrify. “But it woke me up.”

Joel was watching you intently, but the confusion that used to be read on his face was gone. Now, it was something else. You moved a little closer, close enough to feel his warmth. Your fingers rested on the edge of the sink, right next to his, and instead of pulling away, you stood there, caught in the proximity.

“Did it woke you up?” he murmured, his voice deep, almost a whisper, as his eyes slowly descended to your lips. “Why?”

“Because I felt it. It was so real,” you confessed, fighting the disbelief of what you were about to admit. Everything in you screamed for you to stop, but you kept going. “So real, Joel, has that ever happened to you?”

His eyes darkened, as if your words had ignited something in him. The intensity of his gaze was crushing, and the air between you grew thick, charged. Your heart pounded with a force that surprised you, as if it were possible that he could hear the frantic rhythm of your pulsing, echoing in the small space of the cabin. An exquisite panic enveloped you, a strange mixture of desire and vertigo.

“Be more specific,” he murmured, his voice rough, charged with the same tension that lit his gaze.

A smile, small and defiant, began to creep onto your lips as you prepared to follow. You couldn't help yourself. Not with him.

“It felt as real as it does now, you and me, here,” you said slowly, savoring every word. “I could feel it: the touches, the whispers, the ragged breathing, the sweat, the taste...” His eyes wouldn't leave yours. “When I woke up, I could still feel it. I can be more specific, if you want.”

His scent enveloped you, something raw and visceral that called to you in an almost primal way. It wasn't the smell of perfume, but his, pure and authentic. As if everything about him was an invitation you found hard to refuse.

You noticed how he swallowed saliva, his lips parted for an instant. A lopsided smile appeared on his face, a gesture that made something in your stomach contract. Slowly, he tilted his head toward you, until his lips were inches from yours, and you felt his warm breath caressing you.

“No,” he said in a whisper, his words barely grazing your mouth. “I can picture it perfectly.”

“I know you can.”

A chuckle caught in his throat, and he turned away from you only long enough to shake his head gently, as if he were trying to resist something. But not for long. As soon as he looked at you again, his gaze swept over your face, from your eyes to your mouth, and kept moving down, lingering on every inch of you, as if he was recording every detail in his memory. The slow, deliberate pace of his analysis made your knees go weak. The control you had felt in the conversation vanished in that instant, displaced by the intensity of his gaze, which now completely dominated the situation.

“You must be exhausted,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, eyes meeting yours again. “Go back to bed, sweetheart. It's going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Unconsciously, you ran your tongue over your lips, and nodded, obediently, almost without thinking. Something in his expression showed he was satisfied with your answer.

“Sleep well, Joel,” you murmured, slowly peeling yourself off the kitchen counter, your steps heavier than usual as you walked away.

When you reached the stairs, you almost swore you heard him sigh, a soft echo echoing in the stillness of the night.

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: This entire chapter will be in Angel's POV! Hence the gif! Now before any of y'all ask, no! This isn't a love triangle chapter. Its about a girl who meets someone that has gone through the same thing she has and they have a moment together where they help each other over come those evil parts of their pasts (Platonically) Two people finding their "friendship" soulmates, if ya will.

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses

READER

I sat on my bed with the notebook perched on my lap with papers and discarded pens all over my bedroom. Salem curled up on my pillow next to me, his purring an eerily calm background noise as it combined with the scratching of my pen on paper. 

“I know it’s colder where I’m at,” I muttered in a soft tune. 

Ew, no not that. 

I scratched through the words with such force it ripped through the paper. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing the book onto the floor then rubbed ink-stained hands over my face. 

I went through four different pens by now and changed the paper from my spiral notebook to printer paper. I had been held up in my room all night writing, not wanting to be bothered. With our tour starting in a few days, we needed to leave tomorrow which meant I spent most of my day and afternoon packing and getting things in order. 

For the last few days, Hollow Souls had been working tirelessly to practice our setlist and make sure all of our visuals were spot on. It was our first tour of just the three of us and my nerves were taking over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that I was about to spend the next two weeks with my favorite artist. 

nothing, nowhere. 

Joe’s music had been a huge part of my healing process for years so when he reached out with the idea of opening up for Hollow Souls, immediately we agreed. Even though the nerves were still there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I couldn’t count how many times I picked up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but always backed out. I told him I needed some time, truthfully I think I needed it to remind myself I could be my own person and succeed with this band for a little while. 

Maybe I needed to prove to myself that I was able to take the lead of this band without anyone pointing the finger, thinking it was someone else behind the curtain. There wasn’t someone else. It was me.

My heart began to stutter in my chest, blood running cold, so I took a deep breath while counting to four; exactly like Dr. Poulos told me to do. Soon, I felt heat spread within me as the image of Noah danced behind my eyelids. I missed him and yearned for his presence. My stomach was in knots since the second I left his house a few days ago. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are,” my eyes snapped open as the words fell from my lips. 

Fuck, that's good. 

We confessed, we told the truth. A weight was lifted off me. Noah loves me. 

He fucking loves me back. 

“I know it’s warmer where you are, and it’s safer by your side,” I sang while quickly writing it down on a fresh piece of paper.  “Right now I can’t be what you want, just give it time.”  

I began to ache at times, my stomach was sore, and my head would pound. It was often like this that I began to think I’d caught a cold. I wasn’t- it was just me feeling empty. I knew whatever this moment of self-reflection was, it was worth it. I love Noah and he loved me back.

We’d be together; soon. I had to believe that. I knew in my gut. I trusted it but I hope he trusted me.

“Cause if you and I can make it through the night,” my voice was loud now as I felt comfortable with how the lyrics were now pouring out of me. 

But there was this nagging feeling inside of me that I couldn't ignore. We last texted each other at 10 p.m. that night saying we loved each other. The invisible string that always seemed to connect us was urging me to text him. This was something else I couldn’t ignore. 

It was important to me that with this new love, the love for Noah, we have made the effort to fully heal first so we do the inner work that is required to become a whole person once more. All born into our era, our family, our body. We can only be ourselves and accountable for ourselves. He needed to know I loved him, and that I’d come to him. 

Was it selfish of me to walk away after we confessed our love? I wasn’t sure. I just knew it was important for us both to grow from our experiences. So be that rare kind of true love and this bond will be eternal. That I promise him.

With a deep breath, I shifted my attention to my phone and decided to send the message before I doubted myself again. 

Me: I love you, mochi. 

Before I could even set my phone down, it buzzed in my hand with a new message. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you, angel.

The crushing weight that I felt gripping around my heart lifted as I read Noah’s message over and over again. Although we were apart for the time being, we would be alright because we loved each other. I lay here in deep thought and my mind wandered back to my primal need for intimacy.  There is that feeling of maturity, the admittance of being in love with Noah. It arrived without fanfare. Our souls were humble travelers and I could feel the bruise begin to form on my shoulder, so desperate to feel him again.

Salem rubbed his head against my arm and I brought him into my chest, peppering his face in kisses. 

“We can meet in the middle, body and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight,” I muttered to myself. 

Noah and I have a long road together, and it’s one I wanted to last. 

A knock sounded on my door before it opened slowly, Chase's stern smile on his lips. 

Uh oh. 

He leaned against the door frame. "Sweets, I love you. You know I do. But you're fucking killing me with the paint on the carpet in the dining room." 

I knew it. 

"I'm sorry! I know, I know.” I nodded with a long sigh. “It's just the lighting in my bedroom sucks compared to the light in the dining room. I'll put down a drop next time."

Malcolm came into my room, laying a kiss on Chase’s cheek before falling onto the end of my bed somehow missing the mess I created with my writing. 

“Don’t be so hard on her, Chase,” Malcolm said before motioning to my bed. “How’s the writing going?” 

I shrugged. “It’s going, I guess. I think my mind is so preoccupied with the next few weeks that it’s hard to focus.” 

“Excited?” Chase questioned. 

“Excited?” I scoffed. “I’m fucking ecstatic. In less than twenty-four hours I’m going to meet one of my idols and tour with him for two weeks.” 

Malcolm spoke next. “Feeling confident with the setlist?” 

“Yeah! I think we’ve got a good amount of songs and I’m stoked to perform Eyelids live. I think it will be a great way to tease the new album.” 

I’d been very apprehensive to put one of the newer songs on the set list only because some fans weren’t supportive of Eyelids or St. Patrick when they first came out. But Hollow Souls were evolving into a new era and we couldn’t continue to be stuck in the past. 

“Ethan said the bus will be here to pick us up by noon tomorrow,” Chase informed. “Are you all packed and ready?” 

I pointed to the three suitcases at the other end of my room but as Salem jumped off my lap to go lay with Malcolm, I realized something important. 

"Oh, shit. I forgot to see if someone can take care of Salem,” I chastised myself. 

I didn’t miss the glance the two of them shared and raised a brow as Malcolm spoke up.  "Already taken care of."

“You asked Noah, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. 

“Maybe,” he shrugged while giving Salem some belly rubs. 

Chase rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting next to Malcolm. “Of course we did. Who else would you ask?” 

“I could have asked Jolly or Jesse. I didn’t want to put this on Noah,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“Well, he’s basically Salem’s dad now,” 

“Malcom!” I smacked his shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” he chuckled while rubbing his arm. 

“We’re not official yet, guys,” I ran a hand through my hair before pulling my knees to my chest. “Please don’t do that.” 

“No way,” Chase shook his hand as Malcolm rested a hand on his thigh. “We’re not doing that. You need to think of the positives. You two said you love each other. Soon you will find your way back to one another.” 

“I love your optimism,” I said while playfully rolling my eyes. 

“Hey, smart ass. We know these things,” Malcolm snorted while still playing with Salem. 

“You do, huh? Do you have connections to the other side?” I teased. 

“We were watching a show last week about alternate universes and shit. It made me think that maybe there’s more of us out there, ya know?” he squeezed Chase’s knee. “Who the hell knows, maybe you and Noah fucked one night, magically fell in love, and went on the road with him. By the end of it, you moved into an apartment that’s right across the street from his house because you couldn’t fathom being away from him,” Chase spoke with a smirk.

My face reddened as I shifted my gaze downwards. “Wow, that’s-uh-you really thought about that.”

Malcolm laughed. “Or what if in another life, Noah walked through literal flames for you.” 

I snorted at that thought because there was no way Noah would risk his life to walk through a fire to save my life, even if I was hanging from a building. 

“Now you’re talking about shit people read in romance novels. Did my long-lost brother start the fire as well?” 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m just saying, the two of you will find your way. We’re proud of you and how far you’ve come. You and Noah will grow together.”  

My heart jumped in my throat at how sincere Malcolm sounded and the way Chase’s eyes danced as he stared at me. 

“Thank you guys. That means a lot to me,” I smiled. 

“Always sweets, always,” Chase kissed my forehead. “You’re the miracle Noah needed, you know?” 

“I think he was the miracle I needed as well,” I admitted. 

READER

“Wow, Dallas. You are all such beautiful souls tonight. I cannot express our gratitude for all the support we’ve been getting this tour. We’re only four shows in and we’re having the best fucking time. Thank you,” I smiled into the microphone while tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind my ear. 

The crowd cheered wildly as Chase pounded the foot pedal of his drum, the beat making my heart thump hard in my chest. It was night four of the tour and even though it was straight show after show and I was exhausted, I let the energy from the crowd up me hype to finish tonight strong. 

The support of this tour had been fucking outstanding. Every show was sold out and we even had to move our last show into a bigger arena due to high demand. The three of us were so unbelievably proud of the direction we were headed and we didn’t want to look back. 

“Before we play our last song, I think we need to show our opener some love!” I said into the microphone. 

The crowd clapped and screamed but I frowned while shifting my weight on one foot while shaking my head. 

“That’s pretty weak. I want the fucking roof to blow off of here. Let’s hear it for nothing, nowhere!” 

Chase and Malcolm played an in-sync beat as the crowd screamed, cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down. 

“That’s better.” I nodded with a smile while adjusting my guitar. “Not many know this but I’m such a huge fan of nothing, nowhere so to be here touring with him has me fangirling pretty hard right now.” 

I peered over to the side stage where Joe was leaning, watching our set with a smile. We met a few days ago and even though I did my best to keep my composure, I was a giddy girl on the inside. He and Malcolm had a lot in common which made them click almost immediately which made tour life easy for all of us. 

“So,” I cleared my throat while staring back out toward the crowd. “Our final song is a new one and I’m so excited to perform it in front of all of you. Our new album White Noise will be released in a few months. It’s different than our first three but we promise that it’ll be worth it.” 

As the crowd clapped and cheered, I smiled. “My friends, thank you. This song is   called Eyelids.” 

As we began the song over the loud cheers of excitement, I let my eyes flutter shut as yet again, memories of mine and Noah’s night flashed in my mind. 

"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."

I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never been this turned on.

With one touch I could have sworn he entered my soul. As if my body was his key. He entered me and it fit, pun not intended. Not a thing of metal nor gold, Yet a sensation of love that came.

"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh

I used the small break-in lyrics to let out a deep breath, doing my best to remain centered so I could finish the rest of the song strong

Noah was in every aspect of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the song. 

His fingertips, his eyes, his lips on every inch of skin, or the way Noah steadied our breaths. “Breathe through it with me.” 

I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.

Through his sweet words and the resolution of my survival self to never let anyone else sit at my core. He was already there.

As the song ended and I thanked the crowd with a bow, I thought how relieved I was to discover my pure self. That this with Noah could be real love. There was no temptation to change because it was our real selves that bonded us. It is our real selves that each other loves.

That night, I walked away from him without listening to his pleas but now, we were different. We had grown together, for each other.  

Tonight, I vowed then and there under the bright lights of this stage that I’d stay.

I would always stay with Noah. 

“Kick ass show tonight, guys!” Joe cheered while giving us a round of high-fives. 

I smirked while whipping out my phone. “Thanks, Joe! Give me a few minutes and we can head to karaoke.” 

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Whose time zone is it tonight?” 

“Mine” I smirked into my phone while I quickly typed out a message. 

 Me: I love you, mochi.

“Oh,” a hand with a rose tattoo waved in front of my face. “Who has you smiling like that?” 

Playfully narrowing my eyes at Joe, I stuck out my tongue at him. “Someone is nosy.” 

Just then a new message popped up and my heart fluttered when I saw Noah’s response. It was the same response for the last week but every time, my smile spread wide on my face. 

Mochi 🍡: I love you too, angel.

When I went to put my phone back into my pocket, it vibrated with a new message, this time it was a video from Noah of Salem lying on a couch, one I hadn’t seen before. 

“Salem, say hi to your mom. She misses you,” Noah’s voice came from the background. 

I broke out in an even bigger smile and giggled when my cat did not move, didn't even bat an eye as Noah scratched behind his ears. But the music playing in the background suddenly caught my attention. 

The lyrics sounded so familiar. 

“Gave you way too many chances but it wasn't enough.” 

I replayed the video a few more times to make sure. 

“No way,” I muttered, not paying attention to the conversation behind me with Joe, Malcolm, and Chase. 

I quickly sent a text to Noah. 

Me: Hi Salem baby! Mom misses you! Also, I hear something in the background. Is it..?

Mochi 🍡: He’s napping. He had a long day of playing outside. 

My brow peaked. 

Me: You took him outside?

Mochi 🍡: Don’t worry, angel. We had him on a harness and leash. He loved laying in the sun on the back patio. 

“Sweets, let’s go!” Chase called from behind. “The karaoke place closes in like an hour!” 

I waved him off before texting Noah back. 

Me: I trust you with him, Noah. But what’s that playing in the background of your video? 

He responded with another video and when his face graced my screen, my heart jumped into my throat. 

Fuck. Me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait for you to hear the final version. 

“Well, who’s that?” 

Joe peered over my shoulder causing me to jump slightly while clutching the phone close to my chest. 

“Geez, can’t a girl get some privacy?” I asked with flushed cheeks. 

The image of Noah in that video played in my mind on a fucking loop and I suddenly did not want to go out with the guys tonight. 

Joe raised a brow. “Oh, that’s him?” 

Malcolm looked between Joe and me, noticing how red my face was. “What the hell did Noah send you?” 

“No-nothing. Just a video of Salem,” I stammered at first but was quick to recover.  

Chase’s mouth parted to speak but soon his eyes turned dark, jaw clenching as he stared past me. 

“What’s wr-,” I didn’t get a chance to ask because an all too familiar voice crept deep into my bones, ripping me apart from the inside out.

“You still have that fucking cat?” 

My heart sunk low to the depths of my stomach and I let my eyes flutter shut, all the breath leaving my lungs. 

No. No. No. Please, not here. Not now.

“He can’t be,” I shook my head while keeping my eyes trained hard on Chase, doing my best to stay centered. 

Do as Dr. Poulos says; deep breath in for three seconds, long breath out for four seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malcolm spat while stepping in front of me. 

“I needed to come to check out the new Hollow Souls,” the deep voice chuckled darkly. 

I didn’t miss the venom in his words. 

But I never turned around, simply kept my gaze straight on Chase who still refused to look at me; his own hard gaze was trained on the man behind me. Joe noticed the sudden tension and rested a gentle hand on my elbow. 

“Y/N?” His words were white noise. 

I’m imagining this. He’s not here right now. There’s no way. 

“You looked good on that stage, baby. Although, I bet you’d look even better in the back of it.” 

No. No. No. 

A sharp whistle. “I know you hear me.” 

“What the hell are you doing here? Why are you here?” Chase’s voice was thick with anger. 

The voice that I spent so many days in therapy talking about let out a low scoff. 

“What? I came to see my protégé.” 

Malcolm pushed me towards Joe. “Can you take her back to our bus? We’ll be there soon.” 

I shook my head feverishly with tears brimming in my eyes, my back still to the one I refused to look at. 

“No. It’s not worth it. Please guys,” I begged while Joe wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Please come with me.” 

Chase’s eyes softened when he finally peered down at me. “It’ll be okay, sweets. We’re just going to talk; promise.” 

“Come on,” Joe urged my frozen state a few steps. 

Until that darkness pulled me back into the place I spent many days dragging myself out of. 

“Oh, it seems as if you’re back to your old ways. Fucking the opening act, huh? How does good ‘ol Noah feel about that?” Trey did the jerking-off gesture at Noah’s name.

“FUCK YOU!” I screamed as I spun on my heels, Joe’s arm falling away from me. “Don’t you dare say his name. You haven’t earned the right to talk about him!” 

Those cold eyes that I swore at one point I’d have a future with bore into my soul as he ran a hand through the curly locks on his head. Trey smirked wickedly at me. 

“I should call him up. Better yet,” He stuck a cigarette on his lips. “Maybe I’ll send him the video I took of you two ogling each other while you were on stage.” 

I took a step towards Trey but Malcolm held out his arm to stop me, only for me to push it away. 

“Go ahead! You have absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about. We should have had you fucking blacklisted,” my upper lip curled, barring my teeth. 

“Good luck, baby. My name gets me places, I can’t help it. Plus, I needed to come see my protege. Since I fucking made you,” Trey twirled his hand towards me with a snide smirk. 

“MADE ME?!” My eyes doubled as my voice roared through the dwindling venue as fans slowly took their time leaving. 

The stagehands and crew members paused their work to watch my outburst. 

I took a deep breath to center myself again, not wanting to create a scene right now when there were still so many prying eyes.  “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’re doing fine without you.” 

Turning my back to him yet again, I allowed Joe to lead me away with a hand ghosting over my lower back; until Trey’s voice stopped me. 

“You’re so broken you don’t even trust yourself.”  

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice was soft as he shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Come-.” 

“Excuse me?!” I turned swiftly on my heels, hair whipping over my shoulder. 

Trey shrugged while reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You heard me.” 

I smacked his hand away, the noise echoing loudly backstage. “No. No, I don’t think I did. Say it again.” 

“You’re broken.” Now his hands were in his pocket, a lit cigarette hanging loosely on his lips. “That uh- that new song? That's about him, isn’t it? Where is he?”

Trey made a show of looking around backstage. “I don’t see him anywhere. Oh, let me guess. You demolished it right? ‘Cause we all know you can’t have a perfect thing without doing that.” 

My hands curled at my side, knuckles turning white from how hard my nails dug crescent moon shapes into my palm.  

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Trey! You never did and you don’t know a fucking thing about Noah, okay?”

“I don’t need to. I know enough,” Trey blew the smoke towards Malcolm. 

Before he could take a step towards him, Chase wrapped an arm around his chest to pull him away. 

“You know he has asthma, you piece of shit!” I pushed Trey hard in the chest. “No. No! No! You’re not going to do this.” 

“Do what? We both get off on hurting other people,” Trey snickered while taking a step toward me. “I tell you the fucking truth. You’re on the stage singing your pretty little lullabies and maladaptive daydreams because I let you! And you know what else? That little Sykes wanna be?” 

When he made the gesture of sucking a dick, I nearly gagged in my mouth at how disgusting and vulgar Trey actually was. 

Anger filled my veins as he continued to spew his venom. Every single thing Trey said was meant for one thing; to hurt and destroy. He’d spent years perfecting it and before, I’d swim in it. 

Now? Now I was different and I wasn’t afraid of standing up to him. 

“No! Shut the fuck up!” I ran a wild hand through my hair before pointing a finger at him. “You were such a poison that I should have avoided. Every single part of you. I thought you wanted to save me but in the end, all you did was break me!” 

Tears fell from my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I refused to cry in front of everyone; especially Trey. He didn’t get the privilege to break me. Not again. 

“How dare you reach out your hand? You said you loved me but acted like you hated me,” I choked on a sob. “I should have run but I didn’t.” 

Trey flicked the ashes on the ground at my feet with a fake pout on his lips but before he could say anything I pointed another finger into his chest causing him to stumble back.

“No! I have to get this off my chest! There’s more shit I have to say!” 

I could feel the proud smiles of Chase, Malcolm, and even Joe as they all flanked behind me. Not stepping in but still wanting to be close in case they needed to. 

“You’re not half the man you think you are! You’re not! You’re abusive, an addict, and I hated the way you would make me feel. Everything I did was under a constant microscope with you.” 

I began to list things on my fingers. “I couldn’t dress the way I wanted. I couldn’t talk to who I wanted. I couldn’t even fucking talk about things that I enjoyed because if it didn’t involve you, it wasn’t important. In the beginning, you needed to know my every single fucking move. But the one night you went out with your friends and I asked where you were going, you thought it would be funny to choke me!” 

“What the fuck?!” Chase roared while stepping up next to me. 

I placed a hand on his chest but kept my eyes on Trey. “I’ve outgrown you, I fell out of every trace of love and respect for you, Trey. I’ve moved fucking past you. Yes, in the beginning, I thought that maybe there might have been a chance for us. But you found yourself on drugs and nicotine. A hollow body like a figurine and I always felt like an accessory.” 

Joe turned his head towards me with a small smile on his lips. 

“Looking back now, I can see it. You always tried to put me in the background. I wasted so much fucking time on you and you wasted so much Hollow Souls time. You held us back for so long because you thought you knew what was best for us.”

A muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. “I fucking made you. I made this band.” 

I rolled my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh, please. Everyone knows that Hollow Souls was my idea. I was the one who asked Chase and Malcolm to join. I wrote the songs. I wanted to produce our songs but you immediately shot that idea down claiming it was too much work and not worth it.” 

Thankfully, it was long after our show ended and the main part of the venue had cleared out but there were still workers backstage as they tore down our equipment. They acted like they weren’t listening to our fight but I knew that with the glances our way every so often, they heard everything. 

“You always wanted to change shit that didn’t need to be changed,” he snarled. 

I held my arms out wide. “And look where I’m at? Every show on this tour is sold out. We had to upgrade to a bigger venue because of high demand.” 

“What?” Trey tossed his cigarette to the ground. “Do you want a fucking medal for that?” 

I stepped on the bud of the cigarette, stepping right up into Trey’s space. “You fucked with my head knowing that I couldn't take it and for that, I can't forgive you. I’ll never forgive you.” 

Chase waved over security as my final words relieved the weight that I didn’t know was on my shoulders. I thought that the last time I saw Trey I wouldn’t need to say my peace but saying it now, I felt as if I could breathe easier. 

“I don’t need you to forgive me, Y/N.” He scoffed. “Noah will never love you and that you won’t blame me for.” 

My lips twitched in a smile as I breathed through the last of my stray tears. “You’re wrong, Trey. He does love me, and I love him. You won’t disturb my peace anymore, never again. I’m moving on, and I’m happy. You should be sad, and truly I feel sorry for you.” 

I took a step back to stand in between Chase and Malcolm just as security snuck up behind Trey. 

“I hope you choke in your sleep while you're dreaming of me. I fucking hope when you suffocate in your sheets that I'll be the last thing you see. Goodbye, Trey,” 

My hands shook at my side, something that Joe noticed so he gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

One of the security guards grasped Trey’s elbow to drag him out but he ripped it from the guy's grasp. Trey eyed all four of us, his gaze lingering on me a few seconds longer than the others before he spat on the ground at my feet. 

The old me would have let that bother her. But the new me simply smirked as I watched security escort Trey out of the building. 

Ethan came up to us in haste as he looked back towards Trey. “What the fuck was he doing here?!” 

Malcolm made sure that Trey was out of sight then turned towards Ethan, pointing a stern finger at him. “Do whatever you can to get that piece of shit blacklisted from any Hollow Souls shows in the future.” 

“Bad Omens too,” I nodded firmly. 

Chase cupped my cheek. “Sweet, are you alright?” 

Through tears, I nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

“How do you feel?” He had a faint smile on his lips.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, really thinking about Chase’s question. 

Relief. 

This felt like a new wave of freedom. Something I’ve yet to experience in a long while. A new form. 

I looked back at my new friend and then at my brothers; my family.  Those who bring a sense of love into my life. We can make choices to care for the self and still be kind. I had so much to say to him. It felt good to release it- yet; still I killed him with kindness. Something he’d never dare show me.

You can care better for others from strength than weakness. 

At the expense of my own comfort. It’s a prudence with integrity that awaits the right moment to be brave. I felt brave. 

I was ready for my new beginnings.

Joe motioned behind me. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your bus.” 

While Malcolm and Chase hung back to talk more with Ethan about what happened I allowed Joe to lead me outside. The cool night air danced around me with a comforting touch and I let it ease my heated skin. As I made the walk towards where the bus was, Joe had other plans and dragged me to a bench at the back of the venue. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Sit.” When I didn’t move, Joe nodded to the bench behind me. “Sit down, Y/N. Take a breather. I can see the rage in your eyes and the vein in your neck is doing a weird twitch thing.” 

Instinctively, my hand went to my neck, rubbing at it, before sitting on the bench with a long breath; Joe doing the same. 

We let a long beat of silence fall between us and with the sudden breeze of cold air, I shivered and covered my bare arms suddenly wishing I didn’t wear the dress with skinny straps. 

“Cold?” Joe wondered. 

When I nodded, he handed over his jacket which I took gratefully. “I’ll make sure to give it back to you.” 

“Good,” he snorted playfully. “Because it’s my favorite.”

I chuckled while easing onto the bench, now warm. “About what happened inside with Trey-.”

Joe bumped his shoulder with mine. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve been through something similar. I did love how you threw in lyrics from Clarity in Kerosene. ”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, suddenly nervous. “Uh, yeah. Your album Reaper means a lot to me so it felt therapeutic in a way.” 

We sat for another long while, enjoying the quiet that shocked us for being in the middle of the city. It was in the middle of the night but neither of us was complaining. 

“It’s an honor doing this tour with you, Joe. I’ve been a fan for so long.” I smiled at him.

“Hey, the honor is all mine,” he ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. “Hollow Souls has been on my playlist for a long time.”

A familiar memory of long ago crept into my mind of someone saying the same thing. 

“We're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows.”

 “Ya know, someone else told me the same thing the first time I met him,” I said with a warm smile. 

Joe’s brow peaked. “Yeah? Seems like I’ll have to meet this someone.” 

Noah flashed in my mind now; his infectious smile, his bright almond eyes, and the sound of his laughter made my heart flutter. Even though he was hundreds of miles away, our souls were always connected. It was as if he was sitting right here with me. I could feel the ghost of his hand on my thigh and his lips on mine. 

“I love you, angel,” those eyes glimmered as he watched me. 

“Hm,” I hummed while bumping my shoulder with Joe’s again. “Maybe someday.” 

READER

As I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying my long locks, I sighed in content and made work of getting ready. It was an off day but I had no plans, something I intended to keep so much so that I was dressed in a pair of Bad Omens joggers and a black crop top tank. My typical stay-home outfit. 

Just when I was about to load up my laptop to continue writing, there was a persistent knock on my hotel room door. It wasn’t Chase or Malcolm since they mentioned to me earlier that they were spending the day doing a joint interview and then getting something to eat. 

Some would think it was weird that I wasn’t going to an interview with them but Hollow Souls were all for doing our own separate interviews or joint. I did my fair share of solo ones, the same with Chase and Malcolm. I actually had one planned in a few days so I wasn’t too upset about skipping out on this one today. 

“Joe?” I asked while leaning against the open door. “What’s up?” 

He smiled while giving me a once-over. “Good, you’re dressed. Grab your things and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” My brows furrowed. 

“We’re not going to waste the day away inside. I have our whole afternoon planned,” Joe adjusted his hat. 

“You do, huh?” I chuckled while leaving him on the threshold of the open door so I could grab my things, not wanting to forget the small camera I brought along for this tour, and slipped on a pair of white Converse.

With the door closed behind me, I let Joe lead me toward the elevator where we waited for it. 

“There’s this sunflower field I was thinking we could check out,” Joe said. 

“That sounds nice,” I smiled while we both stepped into the elevator. 

“Hilary sent it to me this morning and said it would be a great place to clear your head with what happened last night,” he informed. 

“Did you tell her-?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the elevator descended. 

Joe quickly shook his head. “Nope. I only mentioned how you needed to clear your head.” 

“Thank you,” I breathed when the doors opened. 

For the next few hours, Joe and I enjoyed the peacefulness of the sunflower field. We laughed, we joked, and he told me about his life growing up as I did the same. He also told me about an ex of his that messed him up mentally causing him to hide away for a year. 

“I had to cancel shows because the depression and panic attacks were so bad I had to seek treatment,” Joe said as we neared the end of the sunflower maze. “I went to hospitals, sat with monks in Buddhist temples, and went to therapy. I was so mad that someone took years out of my life.” 

I smiled solemnly. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Therapy told me that I need to stop hating the world and hating myself. I found someone who showed me what love is and I’ll forever be grateful for her,” Joe said. 

“She sounds like a lovely person, Joe. I’m glad you were able to find your happy ending.”

We came to a stop in front of a large patch of sunflowers with him a few spaces in front of me. 

“Hey,” I called after him, beckoning him to turn around so I could take a picture of him. 

His black hood was pulled over his hat and a small bag crossed over his chest. Although he didn’t smile on his lips, I could see it in his eyes. 

“It seems like you found your own happy ending,” Joe noted. 

My cheeks burned as I waved him off. “Oh, no. Not yet. We’re not official.” 

“But you text each other every night at 10 o'clock to say I love you?” 

“It’s-,” I pursed my lips while looking around the field. “Complicated”. 

Being in an open field like this, the breeze blowing through my hair, made me remember the last time I was in a place of solace like this. 

Earlier that day. 

"Noah?" I asked while looking up at him through lashes.

"Yes, angel?"

"You have a cute nose," my voice was quiet. 

Noah tilted his head to the side. "My nose?"

"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," I booped his nose. 

"Did-did you just boop my nose?" Noah chuckled with a scrunched face.

"See!" I pointed to him. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."

"Angel, literally.” 

"Mochi, literally," I mocked while sticking out my tongue. 

Joe’s soft voice brought me out of the memory and I blinked at me. “Hm, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” 

“Do you want to be with Noah?” He asked his question again while gripping the strap of his bag. 

“More than anything,” I answered without missing a beat. 

He shrugged. “Then what’s holding you back?” 

I licked my lips while shifting on my feet. “It’s not as easy as you think. After that party, so much happened and things were said that I can’t exactly forget. I was hurt and needed time away.” 

“So you just left?” 

Hearing the reality of what I did from someone else made the guilt eat away at my insides and my heart sunk low. 

“I needed to get my head together,” I defended while adjusting the black beanie on my head. 

“Do you guys even talk? Besides the usual 10 p.m. texts?” Joe asked. 

Not wanting to speak, I shook my head with a long breath. 

“Y/N, this might not be my place, but that wasn’t very fair of you to do that.”

I bit my lip, not trying to snap at Joe because all he was doing was being a good friend; something I needed. 

“My therapy session is tomorrow. I didn’t need it today,” I sighed while running my hands up and down my thighs. 

“My friend, you do,” Joe snorted. “Why are you so afraid of committing to this?” 

I played with the string of my joggers, really mewling over his question. Noah and I moved past all the bullshit and we’re ready to finally be together. So what was I so afraid of?

With a wobbly lip, I let out a shaky breath and met Joe’s eyes. “I just don’t want to disappoint him, I don’t want him to ever feel like I don’t support him or something.”

He squeezed my arm. “I don’t think you can. If you’re both more than aware that you’re human beings, Y/N.” 

“Understandable,” I nodded. “But I don’t want him to know how flawed I can be.” 

“It’s vital to face hard facts and choose to be present, honest, and mindful of what’s happening in the life of your relationship. You guys aren’t even official yet and you’re worrying about shit that you don’t need to.”

Birds chirping were muted by the sudden commotion of a group of people arriving at the sunflower patch but neither Joe nor I moved from the end of the maze we finished a while ago.

“You’re not robots, Y/N.” He began. “Erase any confusion or doubt surrounding your needs so you can learn to powerfully communicate your needs. You both need to talk. Get it out of yourselves, don’t curl up with shit alone. Don’t do that to him. Don’t assume the worst about him, especially when you haven’t even discussed things properly.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest while shifting all of my weight to one foot. “I never even noticed. In hindsight, I thought I was doing something validating. Turns out I hurt him numerous times, and he still did nothing but try to love me. Even when I wasn’t perfect. I left him alone in that hotel room because things became to real. I left him the night of the party because we both admitted we love each other. And I do. I love him, Joe. I love him so much. I want us to work. But I don’t understand why I keep leaving him. I don’t want it; I just do.” 

Joe gave me a warm smile. “I know, Y/N. You should talk to your therapist about this. I think she can give you more insight than I can offer but just know I understand. You need to approach Noah and this relationship with a loving spirit, believing that he will love you and we want to satisfy you in every way. That he is deserving of your love and kindness even if things feel too good to be true. Feel it out, you’re probably that good of a fit.”

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Joe, I don’t need another therapist.”

He snorted. “No, you don’t, but I’d like to think I’m your friend and I’m telling you, that doing this to someone you love isn’t fair. Noah deserves to communicate with you too. I haven’t met the guy or seen the two of you together but from what you told me I already know.  He fucking loves you, Y/N.”

“I love him too, so fucking much, okay? I do,” I admitted with tears in my eyes. 

“I’m not saying you don’t/. I don’t know everything but, from my experience and what I’ve learned, shit like this can ruin a perfectly good relationship because we simply don’t tell ourselves the truth.”

I cocked my head to the side confused. “Truth about what?” 

“About why you’re subconsciously running,” Joe said. “You’re scared shitless and this avoidance can lead to procrastination that delays dealing with damaging stressors on or within your relationship. It did until the pipe finally burst at the birthday party.” 

“Should I be paying you by the hour?” I joked with a small chuckle.

“If you want to,” he snorts. “No, but come on. If you want him to be there for you, to be your everything, then you have to give half as well.” 

“I know. I want to. I’ve been feeling so sick lately without him.” 

It was true. 

Noah and I seemed to have been brought together by this unknown force. The universe? Maybe: we didn’t believe in high powers, yet also knew we weren’t alone. 

Staggered over weeks, months, or years. In this time the pain of our separation was an act as a focusing lens. The point was to give each other time to see the purity of our love, to be sure that there can be only one lover for this lifetime. 

Seems silly, especially in this era. Yet, it’s how I feel. I just know.

I get almost neurotic to my knees. I know that I must get enough sleep. He made a sham of my pain. I feel like I blew a hole in my heart with an ice-cold magnum. 

Why, when he’s not around I feel lonely when there’s company around. I’m not lost, but I have been found. That level of emotional indifference is not a mark of superiority, but the reverse. I was always worth more, I just needed to educate myself as to how and why.

It hit me. My body yearned for the other half of me.  The lovers who are right for one another take away the other pain naturally, by virtue of who they are the strength of their loving bond.

I couldn’t wait to embrace him again.

Joe peered over his shoulder, noticing a group of people slowly reaching us so he motioned for me to start walking in step with him. “Of course you do. It’s like half of your entire body is ripped apart and begging for the other half back.”

I smacked his arm. “Yes, exactly like that! Even though we’re far apart from each other right now, I still know subconsciously what he’s doing without actually knowing.”

“Exactly. So you two need to talk together about what you’re facing. Discuss the realities and your key concerns. Listen to each other and reflect on what you hear for optimal understanding. Be curious and open-minded concerning each other’s ideas and solutions for relief and change. If you love him, meet him in the middle like you’re saying in the song, Y/N. Don’t just use words, act too.”

We reached the rental car and Joe leaned against the driver's door. “What do you want this song to do; to say?” 

My forehead creased as I put deep thought into Joe’s question. “I think I want to expose the vulnerability. I’m kind of like star light. Maybe it can guide the way to the ones who must travel by night. The ones who don’t know that there is something special waiting for you if you keep pushing forward.” 

Joe bumped his fist with mine. “I love that, a reminder for people. However, it’s not just about that.”

“No, no it isn’t,” I chuckled. “It’s special that we aren't so different, him and I. Somehow together we are balanced. As yin and yang, but a perfect match. All I want is for him to ask me to stay again, and I’ll always say yes.”

JOE

The conversation between Malcolm and Chase was muted as we sat at the hotel restaurant, my food going cold a while ago. After my afternoon with Y/N at the sunflower field with our conversation and everything that happened last night, something was weighing heavy on my mind. 

Malcolm must have sensed it because he waved a hand in front of my face. “Everything alright?” 

My eyes snapped up towards him and I nodded. “Oh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just reflecting on that whole interaction last night. 

Chase hummed while resting an arm over the back of Malcolm’s chair. “We’re sorry Trey pulled you in the middle of it.”

“It’s fine but he’s a fucking piece of work,” I said. 

Malcolm took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah. He’s always been a piece of shit. It was like that for fucking years. Trey tried to dictate everything she did. What the band did. He was off doing what he wanted when he wanted. Y/N would fall into it time after time until-.” 

“Til Noah?” I asked with a hint of a smile. 

“Yeah,” Chase spoke next. “Have you  ever heard of Bad Omens?”

“I’ve heard their name and listened to a couple of their songs. But I’ve never seen his face until recently,” I said. 

“Did he send her a dirty photo?!” Malcolm’s eyes widened. 

“No!” I shook my head with a chuckle. “Y/N showed me a picture of him in braids.” 

“Oh, that picture,” Chase snorted. 

I continued again. “Noah has a great range and a good ear; talented guy. He seems crazy about Y/N from what she said.”

“Oh, he is. Shit, he’s over the fucking moon and back and everything fucking else. They have some otherworldly shit going on.” 

“Oh yeah? Think so?” I asked Malcolm. 

He shared a look with Chase, both of them smiling. “We know so. Noah made her fucking smile again. Laugh in a way we hadn’t heard in so long. He gave her confidence when she desperately needed it. Y/N became herself again. It’s been so beautiful to watch her hatch from the sick cocoon she was in. Last night was a terrific example. We’re so proud of her.”

“Yeah, that was something; the way she stood up to him. She kicked his ass. I may not have been around or anything for long, but that was awesome to see. I’d like to talk to Noah about it.”

Chase and Malcolm shared yet another look, the former's brows raised as he looked at me.

“You want Noah’s number? That’s a bit random, no?” 

“I just want to formally introduce myself,” I assured them. “To let him know how Y/N was last night and how awesome your record is.” 

“Is that all you want to let him know? Or do you want to make sure Noah knows that you’re not a threat? Because he knows you aren’t. And he also knows that Trey hasn’t come near her,” Malcolm reassured me. 

“No, it’s not even about that,” I leaned forward on the table to rest my arms on it. “I want to keep him in the loop, I have a feeling they’re still working out this what do I say or not say phase. Y/N’s become a friend now, and I’d like to also reach out my hand so he knows things are cool on our end.” 

I shrugged. “Plus, Noah deserves to know how badass she is and that she can take care of herself.”

After dinner, on my way back up to my hotel room, I had my phone in my hand as I worked out the message to Noah. 

Me: Hey Noah, this is Joe. I got your number from Chase and Malcolm. This is a little awkward but I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve actually listened to your band- you’re really talented! The acoustic version of If I’m There was killer, seriously. 

Now in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed to send another text. 

Me: I’m texting you because I’m sure you saw the video of what happened with Trey and Y/N. I will firstly say, she’s fucking awesome! And I’m honored to be on this tour with her and the guys. Incredible musicians and incredible people. Gearing back to the whole Trey situation, he showed up out of nowhere; but I feel it’s important to let you know, at least from my side, that Y/N kicked ass. She stood up for herself and I could see she felt a world of relief.

Only a few minutes went by when Noah texted back. 

Noah Sebastian: Hey Joe, it’s Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Y/N has been a huge fan of yours for a long time. She was stoked about this tour, and yes she is awesome. Y/N’s special to a lot of us. She’s a genuine person and has a heart of gold; Chase and Malcolm as well. I appreciate your kind words. That means a lot. You know how it is- especially in this industry. And I did see the video, unfortunately. You were there?

I quickly responded to Hilary’s text before typing out my reply to Noah. 

Me: In case she needed support.

Noah Sebastian: Right, thank you for that. I hated what Trey said, I wish I could have stopped it myself but I also know how important it was for Y/N to have closure. I’m so fucking proud of her. 

I let out a loud laugh when I saw the meme Y/N sent me but swiped away the message for right now, continuing to text Noah. 

Me: You should be proud. She’s awesome and she’s over the moon about you. From what I’m told you really lit a fire inside her, and that seems to be shining through. My partner did that for me when I found her and I’m sure it’s the same for you as well. So I just wanted to pass this along and formally introduce myself. I’m sure Y/N will bring this up to you but I wanted to show you how I saw it on my end. I hope we can meet soon.

Me: Oh, also. Hollow Souls new record is going to be sick. What they’ve been working on is sounding great.

I busied myself the next long while getting myself packed since we were planning on leaving in a few hours to head to the next city. Once finished, I realized that Noah texted me back almost instantly after I sent the last text. 

Noah Sebastian: For sure! Thank you so much. I wish I could be there. But, I understand it’s not the right time. I do hope soon we can chill at my place to shoot the shit. Thank you again for sending me a text. Very kind of you and I’m sure we’ll talk soon. I can’t wait to hear her new album. We’re all very stoked about it. We’re also close to releasing our record, I’d love for you to check it out! 

Me: Hell yes!

READER

“And if you and I can make it through the night,” I hummed while sitting in my bunk on the tour bus. 

My laptop was perched in my lap as I loaded up Zoom, clicking on Dr. Poulos’ contact. It wasn’t our usual appointment day or time but with what happened the other day, I felt as if I needed an emergency session. It wasn’t because of the negative parts but for the first time in a long while, I felt good. My spirits were high and nothing could wipe the smile from my face. 

“Well someone seems like they’re in good spirits today.” Dr. Poulos’ voice sang through my speakers. 

Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she had black glasses perched high on her nose. 

“I am actually,” I smiled, the kind of smile that made the corner of your eyes crinkle. 

She tilted her head. “Care to elaborate?”

I began telling her the entire story of Trey and my afternoon with Joe from top to bottom; from that night up until now. 

“I’m very proud of you, Y/N for standing up for yourself and closing that chapter in your life. And Joe seems like he’s becoming a great friend in the aspect of telling you things you need to hear.” 

“Yeah, he is.” I nodded. 

Although I was in high spirits before this meeting, something shifted in my brain and I began to stare at the keyboard of my laptop. 

“What’s the matter Y/N? You’re slipping into disassociating thought,” Dr. Poulos’ voice brought me back.  

“Nothing,” I had a tight lip smile. 

“Y/N,” she warned. “We’ve talked about this; you need to be open and transparent.”

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. “Okay, well-.” 

When she motioned me on with a nod, I continued. “How- fuck this is embarrassing. How do I stop running away?” 

“Do you grasp that’s what you’ve been doing to Noah?” 

“I do,” I admitted. “But it hasn’t been intentional. I love him, I’m- I just don’t want to become my parents.”

Dr. Poulos’ gave me a small smile. “It’s great that you’re seeking to address this pattern. Building healthy relationships often involves understanding and addressing the root causes of our behaviors.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“It might be helpful to reflect on past experiences and identify any underlying fears or insecurities that may be contributing to your tendency to run away from relationships,” she adjusted her glasses. 

“I know it’s my mother, I know it is. Noah seemed to know it too since he was there that day she reamed into me,” I said. 

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I remember that day. You were very grateful for him being there weren’t you?” 

“More than anything. He’s my safety when I feel like I have none,” I answered. 

“That’s wonderful Y/N. In Addition, I suggest practicing self-care, setting boundaries, and communicating openly with Noah as your partner, rather than your friend, which can help build a foundation for more fulfilling and lasting connections. I remember you telling me you finally admitted your love for each other,” Dr. Poulos couldn’t hold back the wide smile on her face now. 

“Yes. I do, I do love him and I don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Noah’s already so hard on himself with everything.  I don’t want to be one more thing he’s hard on himself about. I want to help, be his escape, and his safe haven. I want him to trust I’ll stay because I want to; I will always stay.” 

She wrote something down in her journal before resting her chin in her hand as she looked back at me through her screen. “I know, Y/N. You’ve spoken about this often.  Seeking support in this form can also provide valuable insights and strategies for breaking this pattern. I believe the two of you can and you won’t run.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the length becoming a big annoyance lately. “You know so much about this, Dr. Poulos. I don’t know the first thing. I want to be able to communicate with him. Not do what I have been doing.” 

“Y/N, it’s normal. It’s critical that before you speak to Noah, you suspend any assumptions or conclusions that put you at odds with him. You absolutely need to approach him by making a generous assumption; and by giving him the benefit of the doubt. This is what it means to be a team, even when you’re feeling distant. You keep loving even when you are feeling as if you are unloveable. You’re not going to do what you did with Trey.”

“Trey.” 

His name still tasted bitter on my tongue. 

“Yes,” Dr. Poulos nodded. “You got your closure on that chapter. Now this is a new one.

“I can’t shake the fear sometimes. The fear of the feeling coming at me all at once and messing it up,” I shifted in my bunk. 

“What I suggest doing when you are feeling upset or angry is to own your emotions and realize that they stem from your interpretation of the situation, not from the facts of the situation. Your fears and deep-seated beliefs about your own sense of inadequacy, unworthiness, or unlovability often lie at the root of all those negative stories you tell yourself about why life is happening the way that it is.”

“Woah,” I blinked. “That’s-uh-a great observation.”

Dr. Poulos narrowed her eyes at me while steepling her fingers under her chin. “I have an assignment for you.”

“Oh, come on! You know how busy I already am,” I joked with a wave of my hand.

She let out a soft giggle. “Yes, well, this will be fairly simple.”

“Take a moment to challenge your assumptions, and allow the possibility that something completely different could be true. Like that, you are loved! And that with patience and respectful communication, you can experience something exceptional with Noah. You said his album is coming out soon, this party could be a great way to try this. Have you thought about going?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said without missing a beat. 

“Wonderful Y/N, see this as an opportunity to vulnerably share something about yourself with Noah, be curious so that you, through this experience, can learn something with him, too.”

I’d be the first one to admit that at first, therapy wasn’t something I thought I needed. It was a waste of time to talk about my feelings with someone who didn’t understand. But right now, I was eating my words. 

“Joe was right,” I said after a few beats of silence. 

“About?” Dr. Poulos shook her head with confusion. 

“Discussing this further with you, thank you it helps,” I ended our session with a large smile. 

READER

“Not to be overly dramatic. I just think it's best. 'Cause you can't miss what you forget.” Joe sang into the microphone. 

I sat in my spot on the couch in the interview space, watching and singing along with a bright smile. 

“So, let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant,” he finished the song with a long breath. 

I, along with the interviewer, Jackson, clapped as Joe took a seat next to me on the couch. 

“That was phenomenal. We appreciate you being here with us,” Jackson beamed. 

My phone buzzed in my lap and with a glance downward, I felt my face warm at the name. 

Mochi 🍡: You look phenomenal, angel. 

“Thank you,” Joe nodded with a faint smile. “I’m sure I can speak for Y/N that we’re both glad to be here.” 

“It seems like the tour is going pretty well. Every show is sold out. How does that feel for you, Joe? I know Hollow Souls are used to this feeling,” Jackson said while fixing his notes, not looking at me. 

I tilted my head to the side, tongue brushing over my bottom lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He finally looked my way and shrugged. “It's just that Hollow Souls is already pretty popular. You guys are used to playing in front of a sold-out crowd.”

“Are you saying that nothing, nowhere isn’t? Or did you forget that his last headlining tour had three back-to-back sold-out shows?” I questioned with a raised brow.  

“Well,” Jackson shifted in his chair across from us and looked at Joe. 

He merely ran a hand through his hair. “Number one fan.” 

“So,” Jackson cleared his throat. “Everyone online is begging me to ask you two this but what’s the dating situation? There’s so much chemistry between the two of you in the behind-the-scenes clips you guys post on Instagram. Everyone wants to know; are you two dating?” 

Joe and I shared a look then I made a show of rolling my eyes while crossing my legs. “Just because a male and female artist tour together, doesn't mean they’re dating.”

My phone buzzed again but this time, I opened the message to read it fully. 

Mochi 🍡: Tell him who’s boss, angel. You know who you belong to.

I cleared my throat while setting my phone screen down in my lap just in time for Joe to speak. 

“No, no. I’m spoken for.”

Jackson looked at me. “Y/N?”

“That’s my name, yes. Do you have a question about Hollow Souls or the tour?” I said with slight venom in my voice. 

Typically I didn’t mind interviews but every once in a while, I’d get an asshole of an interviewer that asked all the wrong kinds of questions. 

“Video surfaced online that Trey was at the show a few nights ago and it looked like the two of you were having an intense conversation. Is there a chance he’s joining Hollow Souls again?” 

My face twitched as something inside of me burned. I leaned towards Jackson with narrowed eyes. 

“Here’s what we’re not going to do; we’re not gonna focus on my love life, or personal life. I make art, not headlines. I’m cool because I'm me, and my band is cool. The art is what’s the focus, not anything else. I do feel as if people need to understand that having a private life is my right. I don’t feel comfortable sharing every aspect. Like I said, I make art, not headlines.” 

“That’s a bold statement to make. It comes with the whole fame territory,” Jackson tried to joke. 

“I refuse to allow this time in my life to be touched, tainted, or bastardized by anyone,” I finished while crossing my arms over my chest. 

While Jackson changed his direction and tone of questions towards Joe for the next couple of minutes, I bounced my knee as the anger continued to fest low in my gut until another text came in. 

Mochi 🍡: Fuck I love when you put douchebags in their place. You’re so sexy, angel. Fuck. I’m going to think about you bossing me around all night.

A hot flash of arousal took over every inch of me as I shifted in my spot on the couch, clenching my thighs together to curb the itch that burned there. 

“Everything alright?” Joe wondered when he saw the warmth on my cheeks. 

I cleared my throat. “Yep. Totally fine.” 

It would be so easy to call Noah to have our first phone sex but the thought of messing with him later sounded more fun.

“So, Y/N. I’d love to know what the future of Hollow Souls looks like?” Jackson questioned with a different tone. 

“See? It’s not that hard to ask questions that actually matter,” I teased with a smile. “But I don’t think we found ourselves because we always knew we wanted this style and this direction but we never really had the confidence to do that.” 

“With this record though, we finally have the assurance to know that we can make it work.”

“Is there inspiration behind this new album?” Jackson wondered. 

“I've always been really inspired by dark things and the supernatural for some reason. Ghosts, paranormal stuff, death, anger, sadness.” 

I gave pause when I realized that this wasn’t exactly a happy inspiration. 

“Well, anything that’s not happy basically inspires me, which sounds kinda messed up,” I admit with a laugh. 

“A lot of the new record, I wrote when I was having a really bad time mentally. I don’t like calling it depression but it seemed like that and I couldn’t pinpoint what my issues were, or what was wrong with me but I knew there was something wrong.” 

Joe watched with a proud smile and I knew that there were a few others back home watching with their own proud smile; my heart could feel it. 

“My problems weren’t tangible things, they weren’t things I could see or explain to people so in a way it was like they were ghosts or spirits that were haunting me,” I continued. 

Jackson rubbed his chin. “Why do you think that is?” 

I pursed my lips, thinking about my answer deeply. “I think a lot of people are afraid to put it out there and talk about it but we weren’t. I think that might be a big reason people have connected to the songs that have been released so far. I feel like for anyone who’s sharing feelings of topics like that, it’s a little bit scary but I feel it's more therapeutic and cathartic to write about that stuff, to talk about that stuff and put it out there. You feel better about it. To know that other people can connect to that makes you feel even better. As scary as it at first, it eventually just pays off and turns out to be good in the end.”

“Why do you think people can relate to it?” 

I shrugged. “I guess because our new album is pretty raw and honest. There’s a lot of topics people can relate to and I think it sounds pretty great, if I do say so myself. We’re pretty proud of it.”

Jackson leaned into his chair. “I would like to jump back to the haunting aspect of this album. Can you elaborate on what exactly is haunting you, if you don’t mind.” 

We’d be here all day if I did and frankly, it wasn’t his or anyone who was watching business. 

“I’m becoming a very private person as of late so I don’t need to go into the personal aspects of my life. Just know I’m moving past things, and I’m very content. Dare I say happy with where the future will be.”

Jackson nodded. “Fair enough. Would you say you’re hopeful for what the future will bring?” 

With a bright smile, I looked directly at the camera that had been pointed at us the entire time and winked. 

“Oh yes, more than hopeful.” 

Later on that night, when I was in the solace of the bathroom of the tour bus, I wore the skimpy red lace teddy I bought earlier. The necklace and bracelet glinted under the dim light as I extended my arm to take a variety of pictures; the sly smirk never leaving my lips. 

With four different pictures attached, I quickly typed out a message to Noah right on the dot at 10 p.m. 

Me: You were bold to text me earlier like that, mochi, I could barely contain myself. Here’s a little payback. Hope you’re all flustered and bothered, whatever you’re doing I suppose will have to wait. Dream of me. I love you.

Almost instantly, Noah texted back as I was swiftly changing into my pajamas for the evening. What I thought was one text became four right after the other. 

Mochi 🍡: Matt’s right next to me, angel. What if he saw this?

Mochi 🍡: fuck, my dick is throbbing right now but I can’t do shit about it. Consider this my karma.

Mochi 🍡: I can’t stop staring at the picture. Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Beautiful. A true definition of an angel. 

Mochi 🍡: I’m going to call you in a little bit. I need to hear your voice. I need it. 

Switching off the bathroom light, I walked across the narrow hallway to climb into my bunk and under the covers

Me:  I’m going to bed early tonight. Maybe we can talk on the phone tomorrow. I love you.

By the time Noah responded, I was already in a peaceful, dark slumber.

Mochi 🍡: Fuck, I love you too angel. So fucking much. 

READER

"Wait," Joe shook his head at us. "You guys do this after every tour?" 

Malcolm nodded as he held the door open for all of us. "Every tour. It's become a Hollow Souls tradition."

As we all crowded into the small tattoo shop’s lobby, Joe's eyes brightened with the realization. 

“Oh, so that's why you got the tattoo of the anime character on your ankle.” 

"Yep, I smiled brightly. "Noah and I got them together on my birthday." 

The buzzing was loud in the tattoo shop as I waved at the owner who had no problem staying open late for us tonight. We finished the tour strong tonight with a hype crowd and with the adrenaline still buzzing through us, we decided to get the tattoos as soon as we left the venue. 

Joe shifted on his feet while running a hand through his hair. “You’re positive you want to get the Reaper album art tattooed?”

"This album helped me through some dark times in my life. I need to do it, especially with what happened last week. It’ll be a great way to remember a great tour and the new friend I made,” I answered while bumping his shoulder with mine. 

After we all checked in and waited, Chase ruffled my hair. “It’s almost 10 p.m LA time, sweets.”

"Shit!" I cursed while quickly whipping out my phone from my pocket. "I can't believe I almost missed it!"

Me: I love you, Mochi. Last night of tour went off without a hitch. Currently getting our typical tattoos. I can’t wait to show you what I get. 

I sat on the bed, exposing my left thigh to the artist after she laid down the stencil, and struck up a conversation with everyone as I waited for Noah to respond. Surprisingly, tonight it took him a long while to text back which made my mind wander to what he was up to. My heart didn’t ache and my stomach wasn’t filled with nerves which meant it wasn’t anything terrible. 

After my risque picture I sent him the other day, we never had the chance to talk on the phone, but I knew that it still affected him because any chance he could, Noah would send me risque texts throughout the day.

“Thank fuck,” I breathed when my phone buzzed next to me. 

Mochi 🍡: I can’t wait to see it, angel. Also, sorry it took me so long to respond. I may have taken Salem to the pet store to spoil him with a few things. I hope you know I plan on keeping him for a bit once you’re back home. Mal said you guys will be busy in the studio so no need for Salem to be home alone. I love you too, angel. 

“I would ask who has you smiling like that but it’s pointless. There’s only one person who can do that,” Malcolm snorted while his artist wrapped up his tattoo. 

I stuck out my tongue at him. “Noah told me he took Salem shopping.” 

Chase rolled his eyes playfully. “And you say he’s not Salem’s dad yet.” 

Before I could set my phone down, another message came through; one I read with a fast beating heart. 

Nick R : February 23, 2022. 929 Angelus Street. Turn Right on Luna Ave. Overnight valet is already handled. No, Noah doesn’t know when to expect you. Don’t be late, Cinderella.

Nick R: The theme is red. I think you know why. Do with that what you will.

Oh shit, that was in just over two weeks. Which meant I needed a dress. And new shoes. A new hairstyle wouldn’t hurt either. 

With a smile, I responded back to Nick. 

Me: We will be there! Unlike Cinderella, I have no intention of losing my shoe and missing my Prince Charming.

Nick R: Oh good! We are merely the mice. 

CHASE

I grumbled under my breath as I scrubbed out the fresh red paint out of the dining room carpet. How many times have I told her to put a damn drop down? Y/N’s lucky I know my way around cleaning supplies and know how to get a stain out. 

Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth as he leaned against the wall, staring down at me as I continued to scrub on my hands and knees. 

“I must say, I love this sight of you. On your knees.” 

I snapped my eyes up at him. “Not fucking funny, Mal.” 

“I think she’ll be really excited for what Noah has planned,” he noted. 

“Oh she’s gonna lose it! In the best way,” I agreed while continuing to scrub. 

 “I think so too.” Malcolm placed a kiss on my lips before sauntering into the kitchen to get things ready for dinner. “How long do you think Y/N will be?” 

“Not sure,” I ran a hand over my buzzed head then threw in the towel; literally. 

“You know how she is when she’s let loose in the art supply store. I’d be shocked if she made it back before dinner,” I continued while hopping up on the counter. 

Malcolm began setting out the variety of ingredients and I reached for my phone next to me. 

Me: Noah, beware of paint all over the carpet.

Noah S: Already taken care of.

I showed Malcolm the text to which he smirked. “Did we expect anything less from him?”

Me: Good. Because even though I love her to the ends of the earth, paint is a fucking bitch to clean. 

Malcolm handed me a beer, one I took with a kiss of thanks, and slowly nursed it as Noah texted me back. 

Noah S: Here’s the address. I would love it if you and Malcolm come check it out. 

Me: Definitely. Let's plan for Friday?

READER

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes locked on the things scattered all over the counter, I found myself dissociating into thoughts of earlier today when we were in the studio. We had one last song to record before we started the final touches but this song was the most important. It needed to be perfect. 

I needed to be perfect. 

Which is why 

“Sweets you’ve gone over the verse we can meet in the middle at least ten times now. I think it’s good.”

Chase reassured me as I came out of the vocal booth with a scrunched up face. I did not like how my voice sounded which prompted me to do vocal take after vocal take. 

I fell to the couch in between him and Malcolm. “I need this to be perfect. I hate how my voice is sounding. It can’t sound like this. It can’t.” 

“It sounds amazing, Y/N! I promise,” Malcolm said. 

“I just-,” I ran a hand through my long hair and groaned. “This is so important to me. I want him to know I’m here. And I’m not going to leave him.”

“Noah knows sweets, he knows. He’s so stoked for this record. You know he’ll love it.”

I tossed my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, exhausted with the length. I needed my neck to breathe. It felt as if I was suffocating under the weight of it. 

“Fucking hormones,” I eventually chuckled while wiping tears from my eyes. 

Malcolm gave me a weak smile while rubbing my back. “Any pain today?” 

“A little but not much. It’s bearable.” I informed them. 

Chase nodded while squeezing my knee. “Ok, if you need a break let us know. Don’t push yourself too much. You sound beautiful.”

Salem jumped on the counter, breaking me from my thoughts, and immediately I brought him up in my chest. His green eyes stared up at me in wonder and maybe a little bit of confusion with what he saw.

“Did you have fun with Noah?” I missed you so much,” I cooed. 

Noah dropped him off while we were in the studio, us just missing each other by mere minutes. 

My fingers scratched at Salem’s neck, now realizing the bright red collar and new tag. 

“Oh, dad did in fact spoil you while I was gone. New collar, new tag, a bunch of new sushi toys. Not to mention the bed that can fit a 20 pound dog,” I chuckled. 

My shoulders went rigid when I realized what I just said. 

Dad. 

I just called Noah Salem’s dad. 

Swallowing thickly at the acceptance, I then looked at the new tag and felt my heart jump into my throat; heat spreading from the tips of my toes to my scalp.

Oh my heart. 

Salem Sebastian-L/N. 

And on the front of the tag were symbols I’d never seen before. “Huh, that's weird. What’s with the yin yang and eye symbol?” 

Biting my lip, I set Salem down on the counter and picked up my phone instead, quickly dialing the number I had memorized so long ago. 

Noah picked up after the second ring. “Hi, angel.” 

I twirled a piece of fresh hair around my finger while leaning against the counter. 

“Salem Sebastian-L/N huh?” 

A quick beat of silence. “Yeah. Figured he needed a collar with his full name. I think he likes me, he was quite needy. Is that alright?”

“Definitely alright, mochi,” I smiled into the phone. “Do the symbols have any meaning?

“You’ll know soon, angel.”

“Okay then. Keep your secrets,” I groaned. 

Noah’s infectious laughter made my stomach flip. “Will do, Frodo.” 

“I think we are due for a Lord of the Rings marathon soon. You down?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hopeful for his answer. 

“Always down, especially with you.”

I did my best to hide my excitement and was thankful Noah wasn’t here to see the way I jumped on the soles of my feet. “Wonderful.” 

There was a long comfortable silence before his rich voice came through the speaker. 

“I miss you. I love you.” 

I played with my necklace. “I miss you too, Noah. I love you.” 

“We’ll talk later?”

It was now him who had the hopeful tone. 

“Always,” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. 

“Okay.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight mochi”.

“Good night angel.”

As I hung up the phone, Chase and Malcolm both popped their heads into the bathroom. They had an approving smile on their face. 

“Does it look bad?” I asked self-consciously. 

Malcolm was the first to speak. “It looks really good, sweets. We’re proud of you.” 

“New Era coming, huh?” Chase asked. 

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “Yeah I think so. I’m ready for it.”

“Well good. Because we are too,” he knocked on the wall before the two of them disappeared in their bedroom. 

Hooking up the blow dryer, I began to dry my now darker and shorter hair, humming along to a song that had been stuck in my head all day. 

“I was lost but now I’m found.” 

Salem jumped up onto the closed toilet seat, watching me with bright eyes.

“We’re not perfect but we’re proud of who we are,” my voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Floyd was curled up in bed cuddled into his lilac sweater, sat up against the headboard wrapped in a cozy pink quilt. This sweater was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Poppy's gifts were always well-made and soft to the touch but one of these days Floyd was going to insist she stop giving him things. For the moment, however, he was more than content to swaddle himself in the small comforts. He's been holed up in his room most of the day, excluding the one time he left to go make himself a cup of tea, but it's not a bad day by any means. He feels great, all things considered, with only a nearly imperceptible weakness in his limbs and a vague chill burrowed into his bones. It's a good day to be nestled into his blankets with a nice book.

A firm knock at his door gets his attention and a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall tells him it's half past noon. Oh, he's been holed up in here much longer than he'd thought. He puts his book aside and climbs out of bed, allowing himself a few extra seconds to stretch, and goes to open the door. John Dory is on the other side, his usual self-satisfied grin nowhere to be seen and a worry in his eyes that immediately puts Floyd on edge. "BroZone meeting," John says it so seriously that Floyd can't even find it in himself to roll his eyes at the phrasing.

"What's going on?" Floyd doesn't wait to ask as he follows John out into the bunker. It's weird to see his eldest brother so noticeably thrown off. John Dory wasn't one to wear his more uncomfortable emotions on his face where the world could see them.

John Dory doesn't answer, instead ushering Floyd over to the elevator. "The others are already in the kitchen," He half-explains, pulling Floyd up onto the platform and pushing up the lever at the same time. "It's Branch." That's all it takes to make Floyd's anxiety skyrocket. Branch? Branch was pretty reserved and he's been a little tense the past few days but he seemed okay. Did something terrible happen? Is he okay? Branch was so independent. What could have happened that John Dory called them all together with such grave intensity? John Dory was dramatic but it's never caused unwarranted worry before.

Floyd fidgets with his paws while they silently ride the elevator up, brows furrowed in thought while he stews in the worry rising in his chest. He clearly wasn't as in tune with Branch as he thought he was despite the one-on-one time they spent together most mornings. The elevator comes to a stop and Floyd is the first one off the platform. He moves swiftly past John Dory and rushes into the kitchen to find his other brothers, excluding Branch, already sitting around the kitchen table with matching expressions of concern on their faces. Great. "Do any of you have any idea what's going on?"

"No," Bruce shakes his head, "John just showed up all out of sorts so we figured it was serious." Clay nods along, gesturing to Bruce in a show of agreement.

"Because it is serious," John Dory insists as he steps into the kitchen after Floyd, circling around to stand at the table. "There's something wrong with Bitty B." He swears. Floyd is hoping that this is another game of the Troll who cried Bergen. John could blow things out of proportion sometimes and Floyd would prefer that to something being actually wrong. "He nearly bit my head off thirty minutes ago." Oh, okay. Maybe this actually wasn't so bad.

"I think before we go overboard here you should tell us what you did." Bruce cuts in, watching John warily. No one was willing to outright dismiss their eldest brother but it was hard not to take this with a grain of salt. Branch was snappy. He didn't like to be pushed and his boundaries weren't all out there yet so it was easy for one of them to overstep, John Dory especially. John was never one to stop his pestering, even when there were clear signs that he was pushing too hard.

"Nothing!" John throws his hands into the air and his tone turns exasperated. Floyd rolls his eyes fondly and crosses his arms, silently urging John Dory to continue. "He came home with this cute little picnic packed up and I asked him if it was for Poppy." Floyd waits for more but it becomes clear that there wasn't anything else John Dory had to add.

"That's it?" Clay presses in disbelief.

"That's it!" John nods quickly, leaning against one of the chairs and gesticulating with his gloved hand, "He looked at me and I swear he was about to break into tears right there. I tried to ask him what was wrong and he snapped at me to leave him the hell alone." He looks at them expectantly, eyebrows raised while he waits for them to admit defeat.

"That… sounds rough, actually." Clay is the first to break, the concerned crease between his brows returning with a vengeance. "Did you get anything out of him?" John offers a dejected shake of his head and they all share a collective sigh. Of course not. It was wishful thinking to assume that Branch would willingly open himself up to them, let alone when he was clearly already in distress.

"I doubt he's gonna wanna talk about it guys," Floyd reminds them softly, smiling sadly when they all turn to look at him. "He's not really open on a good day and I don't think forcing him to talk about whatever's going on is gonna make it better." It's not like the rest of them were getting together to share their feelings or anything but sentimental conversations sparked up naturally between the four older brothers. Branch seemed to actively avoid them and usually fled when things got too emotional for him. They've all had their moments with their youngest sibling, sure, but it was also obvious to all of them that Branch had been uncomfortable. Floyd doubts that whatever this is about is something Branch will want to share during a cuddle pile on the couch.

"Yeah, but haven't you noticed how tense he is all the time?" John Dory retorts. Honestly, out of all of them, Floyd half-expected John to be the least aware of Branch. Not in a particularly bad way, no, but the teal troll wasn't known for being the most observant when they were kids. It was hard to remember that maybe the last twenty years changed them all a lot more than Floyd initially thought. "Clearly whatever's going on with him isn't getting better on its own and we can't just sit here and wait for him to break down."

"Of course not," Bruce assures readily. He has a thoughtful expression on his face and Floyd really hopes that whatever he's thinking could help them figure out what to do. "Floyd is right, though, we can't pry it out of him. We'll only make it worse if we do that." They share a few more silent looks around the table and a familiar feeling of helplessness is starting to stir in Floyd. He can't help but remember the little blue trolling that he could pick up and settle on his lap. Back then Branch was so easy to cheer up, all it took was a quick little song or a fun story to distract the baby from his woes. Now Floyd doesn't even know where to start. He doesn't know what Branch has been through or how to comfort him. He doesn't even know how to approach it if Branch is having a rough time.

"I think he'd more likely shut down than open up if we try to force it out of him," Clay sighs, folding his arms on top of the table. They all murmur their agreement. If it were any other situation Floyd would be amused at the sight of them all huddled up around the kitchen trying to figure out what made their baby brother cry. The horrifying thought is that he can't imagine what could make Branch cry. Branch was a tough cookie but John Dory was right, Branch has been on edge from the moment they stepped foot in his bunker. There were times when the tension let up and Branch enjoyed himself but there was always wariness in his eyes. Floyd had really hoped that it would ease up on its own as they all got used to being around each other again. He's saddened to see that apparently it's only built up until Branch couldn't carry it anymore. It needed to be addressed, that was certain, but they were all stumped on how to go about it. "We need a plan. At least an outline on how to start." Floyd was really glad to have more than one plan-oriented brother right now. It feels wrong to conspire against Branch like this but it feels worse to just let his little brother keep hurting the way he clearly has been.

"I think the best approach is to test the waters first," Floyd steps further into the room, finally pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table, "We need to make sure that he's receptive before we move forward with whatever we're gonna do." His brothers nod but John Dory looks a little unsure.

"Are we sure he'll ever be receptive?" John Dory brings up a painfully good point, looking between his brothers with earnest uncertainty. It's clear that John's desire to push comes from a place of real concern but that didn't mean it couldn't cause problems. It was important to stop him in his tracks before he got too far. Pushing Branch only ever led to the divide between them growing.

Bruce clears his throat, looking sorrowful when he speaks, "I think there's a decent chance that he won't talk to us." Floyd frowns, averting his gaze at the reminder. It was a fair thought, really. What right did they have to assume that they could just pop back into Branch's life and be part of his support system? The only person Floyd had ever seen Branch be actually vulnerable with was Poppy and that was only a few brief glimpses of soft moments meant for just the two of them.

"If push comes to shove we might just need to recruit Poppy and hope she can get it out of him." Floyd agrees with a sigh. His eyes are a little misty at the thought of being so useless when it comes to helping the people closest to him but he knows that he couldn't just insert himself back into Branch's life like that. If what he needs to do is rat his brother out to his girlfriend then that'll have to be enough.

"Well--" John cuts himself off and his ears perk. Floyd frowns and shares a confused look with Clay before he tries to listen for whatever caught John Dory's attention. For a moment there's nothing and he opens his mouth to ask what the oldest had heard but then he hears it. Footsteps. They're carefully tiptoeing up the stairs toward the kitchen and there was only one troll they could belong to. Floyd looks to Bruce and then Clay but his siblings look just as startled as he is. Obviously Branch hadn't heard them, right? There was no way he would be coming up here if he heard them talking about him, right?

The footsteps are only getting closer the more they sit in silence and Floyd gestures in quiet panic to the back hallway. What are we gonna say? He tries to convey in his sharp movements. They hadn't gotten anywhere besides acknowledging that Branch would want nothing to do with this conversation but if Branch had been on the verge of tears only a mere hour ago it would probably be hard to ignore.

John Dory blinks and gestures to himself, the how am I supposed to know? is easy to pick up.

Clay jerks his head towards the back hallway in obvious warning that Branch is nearly there and tries to lean casually against the table so it looks like they haven't been panicking over the dumbest thing. They all scramble to follow Clay's lead and only just manage to get themselves settled before Branch appears around the corner. Their youngest brother stops in his tracks the second he notices that the kitchen is more occupied than he thought. Floyd watches as a flurry of emotions flits across Branch's face; anger, yearning, fear--

"Hey B," John Dory greets with an awkward wave that cuts through the silence.

"Hey," Branch grunts, moving further into the room. He very intentionally keeps his eyes straight ahead as he steps over to the counter and reaches up to get a cup from the cabinets.

Floyd shares a determined look with Bruce before he turns his attention back to Branch. "Are you doing okay?" He decides that the best approach would be a direct one. Beating around the bush with Branch only ever leads to confusion or irritation and Floyd doesn't want to risk blowing anything out of proportion. He just wants to help.

Branch only offers a noncommittal hum and slams his cup down harder than necessary. Floyd can see his grip is so tight his hand is shaking. Not a great start but he hasn't exactly shut them down yet either. They should proceed with caution but Floyd would try to keep an eye on Branch's reactions so he can help calm things down if he needed to. He wants to avoid causing any more problems and he doesn't want to hurt Branch in their quest to figure him out.

"It's just that you've been pretty tense recently," Bruce pipes up, testing the waters with more awareness and care than Floyd would have expected from him. Being a parent had really changed his brother in a lot of really amazing ways. It's nice to see someone else in their family is experienced in the gentle approach now. "We were wondering if we could do anything to help."

Branch keeps his back towards them but the kitchen is small and Floyd is sitting at the end of the table. He can see the side of Branch's face even if it's still mostly obscured and he can see how his little brother clenches his jaw and takes a calming breath. "I'm fine," Branch says after a long stretch of silence. His voice is toneless and strained and Floyd can't help but cringe.

"It's just that you were pretty pissed earlier," John starts. He looks like he's about to make a joke but he thinks better of it. Instead, he sighs and straightens out his goggles absentmindedly. "We're just worried. It doesn't seem like you're doing alright." That was surprisingly heartfelt coming from John Dory. He's sincere and quiet and the worry seeps into his words.

Branch sighs and braces his hands against the counter, hanging his head and leaving his cup forgotten beside him. Floyd's gut twists and his heart thumps anxiously in his chest. He's seen Branch uneasy and uncomfortable and upset, he's seen Branch happy and shy and lovesick, but he's never seen Branch look so genuinely defeated. "Branch?" He presses softly, "Are you okay?" He echoes his earlier question and watches as Branch deflates.

__

Branch doesn't know how to handle this. He didn't really expect John Dory to follow up and he definitely hadn't been prepared for all of his brothers to confront him together. He hates listening to them like this. They sound so worried and he has no idea what to do. The mask slipped and he lost his temper and it seems like it wasn't something he could just sweep under the rug this time. He holds the counter in an iron grip and allows his weight to lean further and further into the edge. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? How does he explain to his brothers that he can't remember the last time he could genuinely and sincerely say he was doing great and that okay felt like a few and far between? "Does it matter?" He mumbles in lieu of a real answer.

There's a sharp inhale behind him and Branch flinches at the sound. Great. He hadn't meant to sound so dismissive but he couldn't take it back now. He's just so tired. He's exhausted, both from the nightmares keeping him up night after night and from the turmoil that seemed to constantly rage inside of him. He feels like he's just been coasting through the days, letting everything build up until it all inevitably came to a head. He was a fool to think he could escape the consequences. He knew better than to think it would all just even out and go away but he had hoped. He let himself and hope and look where it got him. How stupid could he be?

"Of course it matters, bro," Clay soothes quietly. There's a tension in the air that was only getting thicker and Branch wonders if the others could feel it too. "We wanna know if you're alright."

"Do you?" Branch asks bitterly. He hadn't meant to say it but it feels useless to hold his tongue now. He's kept it all inside for too long and it's drained him completely. He's hollow in a way that's terrifyingly familiar, a frightening reminder of how he lived for almost two decades of his life, and he's so sick of it. He wants to feel okay again and he can't keep burying it all deep down. It's twisting him up inside and leaving him with a painfully short fuse and he can't do this anymore.

"Of course we do!" John Dory sounds offended at the mere thought that Branch could possibly think otherwise and that's not fair. He doesn't get to be hurt that Branch doubts them. He has no right. Branch grits his teeth and his eyes are burning again and damn it he's getting worked up again--

"Since when!" Branch snaps, ripping his hands away from the counter and whirling around to glare daggers at his family. His family. The family who left him and came back only because they needed him. Would they have ever come back at all if he wasn't a necessary part of helping Floyd? "You all left. You left me alone and I had no one for most of my life!" He's screaming now. He's screaming and his eyes are burning but he doesn't think he has any energy left to care. "Grandma died and I spent twenty years being the outcast of the village and then you all just come back and assume that things are okay? That I'm okay?" Branch slams his hands against his chest in a wild gesture to himself and lets out a desperate, almost hysterical laugh. His brothers are staring at him with wide-eyed expressions of shock and he should really stop before he does something that will be irreparable but now that he's started he doesn't think he can stop. "No, I'm not okay! I haven't been okay in a long time! I'm trying really, really hard to hold myself together but sometimes I'm so pissed at all of you I don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes I can't even fucking look at any of you because it hurts. You can't expect me to think that all of you care about how I feel when all of you walked out on me and didn't even look back!"

Branch realizes that he should calm down. His chest is heaving with each breath but he's never let any of this out before and the release is addicting. He's fruitlessly blinking back the tears quickly filling his eyes and beneath all the anger and pain he feels guilt for putting those devastated expressions on his brothers' faces but he can't seem to reel himself in. "Did I ever even matter to any of you?" He asks, scrubbing a frantic hand across his face to wipe away the tears when they start to fall. "The only person who even said goodbye was Floyd, the only person who cared was Floyd. If you didn't need me would you have ever come back?" The guilty look on John's face is enough of an answer for him.

He runs his hands through his hair and grits his teeth against the sob bubbling up in his throat. He's realizing that maybe he didn't really put himself together as well as he thought back in his room and he might be having a breakdown in front of his brothers. The realization isn't enough to stop it from happening. He's already lost himself to the panic and desperation curling up beneath his ribs. His hands were shaking and his chest was getting tight but he knew from experience that he couldn't stop this now that it's started and he could already feel the humiliation starting to bloom on top of it all.

"Branch," Floyd gets his attention. Somewhere along the line the other troll had stood up from the table and took a few cautious steps closer, hands held up to show he meant no harm. "Breathe, buddy, come on." Branch instinctively tries to take a breath at the gentle coaxing but the air gets caught in his throat. Floyd only offers an encouraging smile and nods for him to try again.

Branch stutters through the first few breaths, leaning heavily back against the counter and wrapping his arms tightly around himself in a pathetic attempt to physically hold himself together. Floyd doesn't push him and the others watch on in curious silence. They look at Branch with such sad eyes and Branch wants to be angry but he can't. He's too tired to be angry anymore. He's burnt out. He breathes with Floyd's kind encouragements urging him to keep going and slowly but surely he calms down enough to force the stiffness out of his legs and drop unceremoniously to the floor. He ignores the startled cries around him and tugs his legs up to his chest, burying his face into his knees to hide the tears shamefully coating his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he breathes. He can't believe he just yelled at them like that. He'll be lucky if they even want to stay with him after this.

"Hey, Branch, look at me," Branch lifts his head to see Bruce kneeling on the floor beside him. Bruce still gave him plenty of room, staying a few feet away to avoid crowding him, and Branch felt a brief spark of gratitude at the consideration, "I think you had the right to blow up at us. You've been holding all that in for a while, huh? And none of us ever really brought it up. I guess we all just assumed that it was water under the bridge." Bruce has the decency to look sheepish at the admission. Branch huffs and tries again to wipe away his tears. It's a losing battle, the tears are still falling, but he feels like he has to try all the same.

"I think we're the ones who should be sorry," Clay sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't think any of us wanted to admit that we messed up. It wasn't cool of us to leave you behind and then just assume that everything would be fine. I'm sorry, Branch." The apology is unexpected. Branch thinks that maybe it shouldn't be but it still comes as a shock to him.

"You already apologized," Branch reminds him.

"I'm not apologizing for missing out on you growing up," Clay disagrees, shaking his head and offering a sad smile, "I'm apologizing because I walked out and because I never came back. It hurt you a lot, the least I can do is acknowledge that." Oh. A lump forms in Branch's throat and the tears pick up speed. He feels ridiculous and childish curled up on the kitchen floor with his brothers huddled around him offering comforting words but he can't deny that a part of him feels hopeful too. Hope was a terrifying, disappointing thing but it led him to Poppy so maybe… maybe he could try to see where this goes too.

"Thanks," Branch sniffs, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them closer to his chest.

"The least any of us could do is acknowledge it," John Dory steps away from the table and comes around to kneel beside Bruce, "I'm sorry I left, Branch. I could give you a million different reasons but at the end of the day none of them really matter, do they?" John Dory offers a bitter laugh, meeting Branch's gaze with sad eyes, "It wasn't fair to you and I never should've just walked back into your life like it never happened. I'm glad Poppy convinced you to come along but I should've said this all then. That's my fault, Bitty B. After everything we put you through you have every right to be angry." That's the most mature John has ever been, Branch thinks. At least with him. No condescension, no punchline. Just a sincere and heartfelt apology.

"I think that's the most serious I've ever heard you," Floyd playfully teases from Branch's other side and Branch notices that Floyd lowered himself down to the floor too. Clay is already walking over to sit beside the pink-haired troll, completing their messy half-circle.

"Shut up," John Dory laughs, picking up a loose rock tucked under the door of a cabinet and flicking it over at Floyd.

"Seriously, though, Branch. You aren't the one who should apologize. It's us." Floyd assures warmly, the same sad smile on his face but it's fond now too. "I'm sorry that you felt you had to keep this in. I know we haven't been the best brothers in the world but you can talk to us. You've been there for us," Floyd looks around at the others and Branch watches as they all nod in eager agreement. "Let us be there for you, okay?"

Branch frowns. As good as that sounds he doesn't like vulnerability. He's very intentionally kept to himself for a long, long time and the idea of relying on someone else was still very new to him. He's learned that nothing is certain in life and that everything good could be gone in a moment. The only thing he could rely on was himself. He knows this. But Poppy's taught him that even though good things might be fleeting they're also wonderful. Poppy came into his life and brought with her a happiness that's evaded him since he was just a trolling and now he can't imagine living without her. What would he be denying himself if he decided that this was too good to be true? He missed his brothers so much all these years and they're here now because they care about him more than he ever could have hoped for. "Okay." Branch decides before he can overthink it. He wants this so badly he can allow himself to take the risk. If everything collapses and it all fails he knows that at least he'll have Poppy with him in the aftermath.

His brothers sag a little with relief. Bruce claps a hand on John Dory's shoulder and Clay slings a celebratory arm around Floyd's shoulders. Floyd's expression softens, "Thanks, Branch. I know that this sucks but we won't let you down." Branch huffs an amused breath but lets a shaky grin form in response.

"So what's been going on?" John Dory asks as he shifts into a more comfortable position, crossing his legs beneath him and giving Branch his full attention. It's equally overwhelming and appreciated.

"Nothing," Floyd and Bruce give him matching stern looks. Branch rolls his eyes but concedes, "Really, it's nothing. I've just been having nightmares again recently and it's made me more on edge than usual." He pointedly ignores Clay mouthing again? at their brothers and focuses his eyes instead on the dirt floor. He sighs and buries his face into his knees again, "I'm supposed to be normal now."

"What do you mean?" Bruce asks with genuine confusion. Branch can't help but offer a resentful snort. Right, like Branch was the epitome of normal when it came to trolls. "You only need to be you, Branch." That catches Branch off guard and he peeks over at Bruce with a doubtful expression. Bruce only smiles, "I'm serious. I remember what you said to Viva back at that golf course you know. I'm sure you've spent a lot of time in this bunker and I know that Poppy of yours invites you to all sorts of things but no one wants you to be something you're not. You don't need to be like everyone else. We don't want you to be like everyone else." That's an angle that Branch hadn't really considered before. Branch often entertained the idea that Poppy invited him to so many parties and events because she wanted him to be more like a regular pop troll. Despite the fact that Poppy's always respected his boundaries he has an underlying fear that she wants him to change but she's even walked him home before when a party proved to be too much for him.

"Oh." Branch murmurs, still uncertain.

"You're weird," John cuts in and startles at the resulting incredulous shouts of his name. He raises his hands in surrender, "But that's what makes you you. We wouldn't love you if you weren't you, kid."

"Not a kid," Branch grumbles more on instinct than anything. He sighs, reaching up and tangling his hands in his hair, "But trolls are supposed to be fun. I'm not fun. I don't like big parties and too many sweets make me sick and I prioritize safety over entertainment--"

"You don't need to be fun all the time," Clay cuts him off before Branch can start spiraling again. Branch huffs and Clay shrugs apologetically. "You don't have to have fun all the time. Everybody needs their downtime and if you need more quiet time than the next troll that doesn't make you defective." Clay reaches out, telegraphing his movements carefully so Branch has plenty of time to pull away, and carefully untangles Branch's paws from his hair. "Besides, you're plenty of fun. I have a great time whenever we talk about the layout of this place and your organization system."

"Nerds," Bruce coughs into his fist.

"The point is," Floyd rolls his eyes but he looks happy. "Fun or no fun, quiet or loud, there's nothing wrong with being different. No one should ever force you to be someone you're not, and we don't want you to be anyone else." Branch feels a hesitant burst of warmth struggling to form beneath the uncertainty wriggling in his gut. The hope is growing with each passing moment but he's still scared of what it could lead to. He's been disappointed so many times.

Branch shakes his head, "It's not enough." He disagrees. There were plenty of trolls in the village that were still on the fence about him. He's seen the weird looks he gets sometimes when he's in town and the disapproval when he's with Poppy. No one is vocal about it and most of the village has been open to him being a part of the community but that doesn't erase the years of him being the outcast party-pooper. "I'm not enough."

"You're perfect." Branch's head snaps up and he stares at John Dory in disbelief. John Dory said it so vehemently and his face his set in a stern expression. The small, wounded part of Branch that always believed that he was the reason the band disbanded is squirming beneath his skin.

"What?" Branch breathes, laughing awkwardly at what he assumed had to be a joke.

"You're perfect, Branch. Never, and I mean never, imply that you're anything less than that again." John seems almost angry but Branch has to be imagining that. He looks genuinely upset at the idea that Branch could possibly think so little of himself but that seems unlikely. "Branch you have two seconds to tell me no before I touch you," Oh, what? That's a weird sentence-- but suddenly his face is cupped in John Dory's hands and his focus zeroes in on his brother. "You are amazing. You're a little rough around the edges but so is everyone. This past month you've been nothing but accommodating to us. You dug us out whole rooms in your home just because you wanted us to stay with you, that's crazy. You're dedicated, brilliant, and even kind under all that sharp wit. You are way more than just enough, little brother, you're perfect." Branch blinks stupidly up at John Dory and a few more tears tumble down his cheeks. John smiles sadly as he brushes them away with a few gentle strokes of his thumbs.

Branch sniffs pitifully and pulls away, scrubbing at his eyes with a startled laugh, "Jeez, isn't Floyd supposed to be the sensitive one?" He tries to joke but it comes out strained and teary. They all chuckle anyway and Branch is grateful that they're giving him a moment to try and compose himself. "I'm still sorry I yelled." He admits after a few beats.

"Psh, it's fine," Bruce waves him off easily. "You clearly needed to get some stuff out. What else is family for?" He assures lightheartedly.

"I know it's not hug time, but can we hug you?" Floyd asks. Branch moves to say no on instinct but Floyd is looking at him with pleading eyes and Branch honestly thinks that he could use one too.

"Fine, I guess," He grumbles and Floyd doesn't hesitate to swoop in and gather him up. The others don't take long to follow his lead. It's only a few seconds before Branch finds himself at the center of a cuddle pile. There are elbows jabbed into his side and someone's hair is tickling his nose but somehow he can't remember the last time he felt so safe and comfortable. "Thank you." He whispers into the bundle of warmth and support surrounding him.

"We'll always be here for you, okay?" Floyd says.

"Okay." Branch replies and finally lets the hope win.

[tatasoom]

PREVIEW IS SHOWING THEIR FAVORITE EPISODE

I've just watched an interview where Jimmy and Sea told that episode 9 is their favorite. Well, then it's a perfect moment to analyse some hints for the episode. Let's go!

1. The mind-blowing symbolism in clothing!

We've seen Day and Mhok sleeping together twice. First time it was after tennis club party and drunk_but_curious Day was wearing this white t-shirt you can see in a scene from the preview! The second time was when Day stayed overnight at Mhok's house and maybe you can't remember, but now, when they're having another night together Day's wearing pants Mhok used to wear back then at home!

So we basically have Day being quintessence of their previous bed sharing moments and I love it so damn much.

2. Sightseeing and the book

We'll have another beautiful way of Last twilight making us all checking ticket prices to Thailand. (In my case it takes my monthly salary just to go to Thailand and come back without all that accommodation, local transport, souvenirs, etc. And what about you?)

I also have some questions for these book scenes. As we already know Day and Mhok (oh, sorry, Danainat and Methas all of a sudden haha) gave this book as a present to P'On and P'Pla, but here Mhok is reading it again. Also he's reading last pages.

Could it be that Day's father have the full version of the book? It would be interesting.

I remember when I was younger I've found a book illustrated with portraits by my father. Of course it's not a coincidence and my mother just took this book with many others from their once shared home library. But what impressed me the most is that I also used to draw portraits in my uni years and it turned really good (not my words). And I have never ever learned how to do it, but even my friend who's really into art and can draw anything complimented one of my work.

I'm curious what Day can have from his father he can't even remember.

3. Fading reality

It seems after having some sweet moments Day is going back to black to vision issues. This leads to him asking Mhok to go to the mountains and see that last twilight in reality. The whole series is already bittersweet and so is episode 9.

I also like this excited Sea👇

4. P'Aof and mountains

Everytime we talk about P'Aof coming back with another iconic mountain scene I remember Mix (who played Tian in a masterpiece named A tale of thousand stars) wearing a winter coat and crying behind the scenes, because they had a very emotional scene at night and it was cold in that mountains. Glad Mhok and Day have a plan to see twilight and not meteor shower haha

Not them being goofy lovey-dovey ahh~ ❤️

5. The night of love

Okay, let's be honest we're all waiting for this Friday not only because of our love for Thai nature🤭

Day will be playing the guitar, Mhok will be sitting there wearing Day's t-shirt...

And then they'll have a night...

... that will switch their t-shirts by the morning.

Thank you for reading! I planned to say just a few words about upcoming episode due to the lack of material. How it turned out that this is an analysis I spent three hours making of... Anyway, I already love episode 9 sososo much for all it's aesthetic. Let's enjoy our Songkhla trip with Day and Mhok, let's find out what's wrong with Day's father and let's give a round of applause to everyone involved in making Last twilight!

Just one day until new episode. Are you ready?

A) no

B) I think yes, but no

C) have mercy, P'Aof

[princeanon]

I made a modern adaptation of some R&J scenes (2.4 and 3.1) for a film project, and just had to share some of my favorite moments, in no particular order

“Queen Mab get to you again?”

- Benvolio, to Mercutio

The film was called Queen Mab, and it’s centered around Mercutio, with an emphasis on his dreams and hints to a time loop situation?

There was SO MUCH DOMESTIC BENCUTIO YOU HAVE NO IDEa

Like, Ben wakes Mercutio up and calls him sUnShiNe before handing him water

Also, he calls Mercutio “Merc” a few times throughout the film

All of the characters names are shortened in the script purely because I didn’t want to type them every time (Tybalt=Ty, Benvolio=Ben, Mercutio=Merc, Romeo=Ro, and Juliet was just Juliet)

Ben is CONSTANTLY checking his phone for texts from Romeo like he’s so worried poor guy

Meanwhile Merc is tormenting him

“I can see it now:

Here lies Romeo. Died from being left on read.”

- Mercutio, about Romeo’s crush on Rosaline

Ben extends an arm to Merc as they leave, and he takes it before grabbing his dagger

When they go to find Romeo, Ben brings a notebook with him that disappears once the Merc and Tybalt fight starts

Ben is wearing a shirt that says “MERCUTIO IS MY HOMEBOY”

a necklace with a purple gem (👀)

a cute blue and green jacket

and a beanie that does not fit properly at all

Meanwhile Merc is wearing a purple MIT shirt

When Ben and Merc spot Romeo, they hide behind a tree like those classic cartoons where you can only see their upper half sticking out of the tree

Our Romeo & Juliet were in a production of Sound of Music together as Maria and Von Trapp respectively so when I told them to act in love in the distance, they just started doing the Laendler choreography

Ben shows Tybalt’s “challenge” for Romeo to Merc via his phone, which implies that Tybalt texted Benvolio and was like “hey man can you let your cousin know I wanna fight him?”

We needed a shot of our Tybalt appearing behind Ben & Merc, and Ty was insistent that he climb a nearby tree and jump out of it

That shot took 15+ takes before we even got to his part, so he spent the better part of half an hour sitting in a tree waiting for his queue.

He jumped down too early during one take and had to re-climb the tree

Merc boops Ben several times throughout the film, and we had a few very flirtatious takes that didn’t make the Final Cut because we kept breaking character

“Careful, Good Benvolio, your irrefutable temper is showing”

- Merc to Ben when he complains about Romeo’s terrible decision-making skills

He calls him “Benny boy”

During one take, he accidentally said “bunny boy” and I told him he could definitely do that purposely if he wanted

Tybalt had recently done a production of R&J, so he asked to add the “peace be with you” line into the script, which I 100% supported, we spent a while during the shoot just quoting R&J back and forth, and he noticed all of my references in the script

Romeo was instructed to enter the Tybalt scene after a specific line, so he hid around the corner and FULLY RAN into the scene yelling “GUYS GUYS YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I—“

Romeo is taller than both Ben and Merc, and he almost tackles both during his entrance

Oh my gosh Romeo and Tybalt have some kind of bromance going on IRL which is so fun but it was so difficult to get the two of them to pay attention because they were just hanging out with each other

Romeo had a line that goes “woah, Tybalt, calm down” and instead he said “Yoooo, Tybalt, chill out man” which made all of us break

When Tybalt confronts Romeo, you can hear a bird in the background, that stops the second Ty pulls out his dagger, which was accidental but iconic

I choreographed a sword fight, but Merc and Ty mostly improvised, they had a lot of fun

Our Juliet filmed the whole scene by the way, along with most of the other scenes

Also, in the script she had one line, in which she was supposed to say something with the word Capulet, and she kept joking to everyone that she was already off book

I ended up cutting the line for convenience and plot purposes, sorry Jules 😭

“Capulet”

- Not Juliet, since the line got cut

Romeo & Juliet joked about going to marriage counseling after they were struggling to film one of the scenes (J on camera, R with the boom mic)

They traded jobs after J accidentally filmed R for the entire take

In between shots, Ty and Merc were stabbing mushrooms with their daggers, Romeo was throwing rocks at a spider, and Juliet and I were just like, watching all of it happen

We had fake blood for Merc to put on his hand, and it ended up staining his hand so he spent like 10 minutes washing it off afterwards

When Merc dies, Ben holds his hand and rests his face against Merc’s head (also, he fully dies in Ben’s lap)

Then we went back and filmed the first scene and lemme tell you Mercutio is iconic but he was so so so bad at waking up

He kept asking me “how am I supposed to wake up???? How does one wake up scared???” And I was like “I don’t know man!!!!!”

Some lines taken directly from the play include “Romeo, my cousin Romeo!” (2.1) “A challenge, on my life” (2.4) “Come sir, your passado” (3.1) and of course, “Peace be with you” (3.1)

Also, Merc still calls Ty a ratcatcher, and Ty calls out to Ben and Merc by saying gentlemen

Yeah, it was a lot of fun. Took 4 hours of filming for a 4 minute long film, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I played Benvolio by the way. Probably should have mentioned that sooner.

[prettygirl-gabi]

My First Love

---

---

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: fluff, angst, happy-sad ending

Category:F/M

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !pre-debute Hoshi x !non-idol f reader

Summary: true love, in any form, is a gift worth cherishing.

Trope: First love

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the Fifth installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

---

I never really believed in love at first until the day I met Kwon Soon-young. It was one of those typical autumn afternoons in Seoul, the leaves just beginning to fall, painting everything in shades of gold and red. I was late for class and sprinting through campus when I collided with him. Books and papers scattered everywhere, and in the midst of my hurried apologies, I looked up and met his bright, kind eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, smiling as he bent down to help me gather my things.

“I’m fine, I’m so sorry! I was in such a rush,” I babbled, embarrassed.

“No worries. Looks like fate wanted us to meet,” he said, handing me my last notebook. And just like that, my heart was caught.

Soon-young, or Hoshi as his friends affectionately called him, was easy to fall for. He had this infectious energy, a boyish charm that made it impossible not to smile around him. We ended up sharing a class together, and over time, our paths crossed more frequently. We went from study partners to friends, and for me, it wasn’t long before I realized I was in love with him.

---

One chilly night, after weeks of hanging out, laughing, and sharing little pieces of our lives, I found myself sitting next to Soon-young at our favorite cafe. We were sipping hot chocolate, steam swirling into the air, when he turned to me, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” he said, his voice soft.

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Why do you always look at me like that?” he asked, eyes never leaving mine.

My heart skipped a beat. “Like what?”

“Like... I’m the only person in the world,” he replied, leaning closer.

I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage. “Because, Soon-young, to me, you are.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and for a moment, I thought my heart might burst. “Y/N, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for weeks... I think I’m in love with you.”

In that second, the world seemed to stop spinning. Everything around us faded away, and all I could see was him. “I love you too, Soon-young,” I whispered back.

Our relationship blossomed from that moment. Days were spent in a whirlwind of laughter, shared secrets, and stolen kisses. Every corner of Seoul seemed filled with our memories—late-night walks by the Han River, playful dates at Lotte World, quiet afternoons in small bookstores, tracing the spines of forgotten novels with our fingertips.

---

But as with many first loves, a bitter reality eventually seeped into our fairytale. Soon-young was a dreamer, passionate about dance and determined to make it big. His resolve to join a prestigious dance company was both inspiring and daunting. As his auditions neared, his time became more consumed with practice, and though I supported him wholeheartedly, the distance between us grew.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll make it up to you after this audition,” he’d say, exhausted but sincere. I’d always smile and reassure him, masking the loneliness creeping into my heart.

Then came the fateful day—his audition, the one he’d worked so tirelessly for. I stood by, cheering him on, my heart swelling with pride as he moved with such grace and power, captivating everyone in the room. When he was selected, his eyes found mine, and for a fleeting moment, I knew that all his sacrifices were worth it. But beneath my joy for him was an unbearable sadness.

---

Weeks turned into months, and Soon-young’s new world became one of grueling practice sessions and relentless schedules. Our moments together dwindled, replaced by fleeting texts and rare phone calls. One cold winter evening, after a particularly long and somber day, I found myself sitting alone on a park bench, the weight of our situation settling heavily on my shoulders.

“Y/N?” Soon-young’s voice broke the silence behind me. I turned to see him standing there, looking as worn out as I felt.

“Soon-young, what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to mask my emotions.

He sat beside me, his proximity both comforting and painful. “I’ve missed you,” he said simply.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He took my hand, tracing invisible patterns on my palm. “This isn’t fair to you,” he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. “You deserve someone who can be there for you, always.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, fear gripping my heart.

“Maybe... maybe we should let each other go,” he said, tears glistening in his eyes. “I don’t want to hold you back, Y/N. I love you too much for that.”

---

Silent tears streamed down my cheeks. I knew in my heart he was right, but the pain was unbearable. “I love you, Soon-young. I always will,” I choked out.

He pulled me into his arms, and we held each other for what felt like both an eternity and a fleeting moment. “I love you too,” he whispered into my hair. “Thank you for everything.”

That night, we said our goodbyes—our hearts breaking, yet full of gratitude for the love we’d shared. Years went by, and while life took us down different paths, the memories of our first love stayed with us.

One warm spring day, as I walked through a familiar park, I saw him again. Soon-young, now a successful dancer, stood under a cherry blossom tree, its pink petals swirling around him. He looked different—older, wiser—but his eyes still held the same kind sparkle.

“Y/N?” he called out, a smile lighting up his face.

“Soon-young,” I said, my heart fluttering in my chest.

As we walked together, catching up on lost time, I realized something profound. Though we had let each other go, the love we’d shared had never really left. It had only transformed, becoming a beautiful, cherished memory—a reminder of how deeply two souls can connect, even if just for a moment in time.

And so, with a bittersweet smile, I knew I was both sad and happy. Sad for the love we’d lost, but happy for the love that had shaped my heart, reminding me that true love, in any form, is a gift worth cherishing.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Sending love to one of the best writers on ao3 😘💕 I check your page frequently and wanted to ask about the things that you enjoy doing or aspire to do

Hi Anon, it's so sweet of you to send this ask to ask after me. Rest assured your words are appreciated on this end; thank you from the bottom of my heart and top of my soul 🫂 I'm very glad you think highly of my work even after so long, and I'm so so sorry I haven't had any new content in such a long time. But I am hard at work on a oneshot that will definitely be published before the next chapter of Samarra, so the well won't stay dry for long! The summary is “A jaded prison nurse must come to rely on a man she hates and fears in the midst of a deadly prison riot.” I started writing it in the ward; it's based off of the Moundsville Penitentiary which is an especially spooky place I've been to–an old 19th century prison made of towering stone turrets, eerie high ceilings, and rusted iron cells packed together like pigsties. I'm hoping to get that atmosphere across; it's about ⅔ of the way finished so good progress is being made!

Well I enjoy writing, most of all, but I've already talked about that in detail a thousand times so I'll spare you. I love reading, of course (I just finished “The Five”, about the victims of Jack the Ripper, and it's a fascinating bit of history and an incredible and horrifying look at Victorian-era industrial Britain). I love exploring the mountains with my cats trotting along beside me and photographing what I find. In all honesty I'm a bit of a trappist–I rarely see people except hunters and cashiers, and most of my time is spent alone with myself or my dad. But each day is an adventure when you're in nature and each season brings primordial and beautiful changes– I collected watercress the other day and found the downy remains of a fawn. 

I love watching old movies. My dad and I were watching Laurel and Hardy last night and I swear it holds up a century later. Before that we watched King Rat, which is one of his–and my–favorite movie; about two men stuck in a Japanese prison camp and the Machiavellian and underhanded ways they survive there. The book is particularly good too, and the epilogue about rats devouring each other has haunted my dreams for a long time. 

On the same subject, a series that I highly recommend is called Tenko, which is very similar to King Rat, except the prisoners are women. It's so grueling, realistic and enrapturing; I've never seen anything that so squarely focuses on women's experiences, relationships with each other, the hardships they face, and how they struggle to survive together in a thankless, deprived environment. The backstabbing and despair that comes in their darkest moments, the love and support in which they uplift each other with, their mistrustful and uneven relationships with their captors that occasionally erupt in friendships and affairs–and all the episodes are on dailymotion, too!

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x74u4fi

I like dreaming most of all. So many of my story ideas come from my dreams. The worst thing in the world is waking up and trying to catch the stray strands of the dream slipping through your fingers. It's amazing to live so many lives–good or bad–inside your head. Sometimes when I wake up, I feel a sweeping, palpable sense of relief that I don't live in the world I conjured last night, and sometimes I wish I could just claw myself back into my brain and live in that little pocket world for the rest of my life.

I do not aspire to much. I don't really have any base wishes but to keep writing and live til 70. We all have our hopeful fantasies, of course, and when I finally do get Ragnatela on Amazon Kindle (Microsoft Word is trying to swindle me out of one hundred and fifty American dollars to use their dogshit platform, and since the manuscript is half-edited, I'm afraid to lose my formatting if I switched to a free program like Libreoffice) maybe it will get some attention. 

I still intend on writing on Ao3 until the day I die, though. Even with its unsavory content I have such a soft spot for its unrestricted freedom of speech and prose. Plus I don't want to give up talking to you guys and goofing off in the comments ☹️ I also aspire to stop drinking. I'm sure I've already shaved a few years off my lifespan with my tippling habit. But when one day is much like the other, is there much point in extending it?

I aspire to travel around the United States more. I took a trip through the Deep South to visit Savannah and it was enrapturing; something I will remember for the rest of my life. Rusted-out cars felted in green moss, skinny, grazing horses in windswept fields, peeling roadside signs advertising tent revivals, clownish golliwogs behind still windows of cafes, forgotten tugboats half-sunken into lagoons, highway strip hotels where craggy hookers peered at you suspiciously from their fold-up chairs, and derelict cemeteries separated between Union and Confederate. It was just post-Irma and we were often the only tourists at any of these places. The effects of the hurricane were stark and obvious, with the land in a state of shock before any official agencies came to clean them up. I remember boats crashed into the harbor and grandfather trees felled in front of opulent antebellum homes, and the sea churned brown and murky when we trekked to the beach. The sense of desolation, and not only from the hurricane, was chilling–but I loved being there and loved being swathed by the kudzu and history. My mother is very ill and before she dies we might make up briefly and take a trip to New Orleans together and explore rural Louisiana; I'd always wanted to write a story set in New Orleans. Louisiana is a fascinating state with its mixture of Napoleonic and Creole influences; and I've always been drawn to the grand, decaying tombs of New Orleans as much as I have been to the odd Francophone swamps and their hidden dialects and traditions. And one day I would like to go way, way out west and explore the Gold Rush ghost towns. All the mines where I am are filled-in, so I would like to venture underneath the earth just once. 

Most of all, I aspire to be alone, and live by myself for the rest of my life, far away from town, somewhere in the mountains like where I am now. I wish I didn't have to see another person for the rest of my life. Being alone with myself is bad enough, being with others is intolerable.

Anyways, I apologize for my undue pleonasm, you caught me in a chatty mood 😀 Here's an excerpt from the newest prison one-shot:

Rhoda had met Jesse Fitzner her first day on the job. It was midway through her shift, and she was taking a lunch break and grading her sister Sherise's homework in her office. The day had started with a white-knuckle ride in early morning mist so thick she couldn't see the taillights of the car in front of her. Midway through her preliminary tour of the prison, an inmate had stuffed his toilet full of socks, which promptly overflowed and leaked sewage out of the cell onto her high heels. The hoots and jeers had made her speed up, trying to avoid the leering eyes of her future patients. And her introduction to the mental ward, by a younger but just as pessimistic Fawna, had not lifted her mood any either.

So there she sat in her office, snatching a moment of calmness and frantically scribbling corrections over Sherise's homework before her sister turned it in tomorrow. And then the door swung open.

A blond man poked his head in and briefly raised his eyebrows. He was wearing the omnipresent, drab gray prison uniform, pants and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. "What are you up to?"

She flipped the cover of the notebook over.

"Going over my sister's homework. Is there something you need?"

"Passing on a message to Nurse Judson. One of the inmates wants to switch his blood pressure medication."

"Oh, she'll be back soon. I think she's–doing something with the prisoners. Just give her a few minutes."

"No hurry." He pulled the chair opposite her and sat down in it. "So you're grading your kid sister's homework? Shouldn't she be doing that herself?"

The man had thick blond hair that stuck up in back like a duck's tail, and very rosy cheeks. He looked like he had just shaven, by the nicks on his neck. 

"It's a long story. I should be–"

"I've got time. If this is your first day, you need to take some time to yourself to relax--else you'll end up in the infirmary."

Rhoda laughed. He had a nice smile and a nice manner about him–very jovial and friendly. It was refreshing to see a man who didn't stare at her like she was a piece of meat. "Well, my parents died when my brother and I were still young. Seth was seventeen, I was fifteen. He went to work so we didn't have to break up the family, and I stayed home to care for my little siblings, all three of them. It wasn't fun. I always wanted to do more for them than what I was stuck with, so I'm making sure they get good grades and go to good colleges. That's why I got this job in the first place, to put some back for their college funds."

"That's real decent of you. I don't know a single woman who would go so far for their family. You'd best be proud of yourself. Where's your brother now?"

"He's working out of state in Pennsylvania. He found a good woman and has a concrete contracting business now."

"You got yourself a man?"

"Never saw the need. Someday, maybe, when I'm lonelier."

"Working here for a few years will train that loneliness for a man right outta of you." 

They both laughed at that, and Rhoda felt her tensed muscles begin to relax. "I didn't catch your name."

"Jesse Lee Fitzner." He reached across the desk to grip her hand. For being such a small-built man, he had a crushing handshake.

"Rhoda Ames. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I knew a few Ameses when I was on the outside. Where your folks from?"

"Beckworth, west of here."

"Oh, you're bullshitting me. I have folks from there too. You don't know a Harry Fitzner, do you?"

"Harry who used to run the car repair shop?"

"That's him! My uncle. He retired a few years ago. His lungs got to him. Too much time in the mines."

The door slammed open again. An elderly prison guard, who had greeted her rather abruptly upon her hiring and who had a hard and wrinkled face, was standing in the doorway. When he saw Jesse, his face grew harder. "What are you doing here, inmate?"

Jesse raised his hands, still not moving from where he was leaning back on the chair. "Just dropping off a message for Nurse Judson."

"Next time, leave the message with Nurse Ames and promptly return to your cell. There's no reason for you to be here actin' so friendly."

To Rhoda's mild disappointment, the guard grabbed Jesse by his arm and yanked him out, harder than he needed to. Before he was escorted out, Jesse tossed a glance over her shoulder and winked at her. "Rhoda, you're a young lady, and I'm a bit of a spring chicken myself. I think we would get along real well outside these walls."

Rhoda couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. She felt lightheaded. She was a rangy and abrupt woman with a working tan, and hadn't much experience with men flirting with her.

When Jesse was marched out, Rhoda stood up and grabbed her peaked nurse's cap, girding her loins for the next shift on the ward. While she was counting medications, the elderly guard–Miles–came in again and shut the door behind him. She flinched, expecting a dressing-down on her first day of work. I wasn't fraternizing with the prisoner, was I? Am I… am I gonna lose my job?

He sat down opposite her. "You ever hear that tale 'bout the lady and the snake?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Old story; old, old story. One of them Aesop stories they wrote when people was still in togas and carved words in stone. A woman was walking home one day when she saw a frozen snake lying on the side of the road. It begged her to save its poor little self, this little creature of God. So taking pity on it, the woman brought it home and warmed it by the fire between her breasts. And as it thawed, it bit her breast. 'Oh, why would you do such a thing? Your poison will kill me,’ she wailed. And the snake smiled and said, 'You knew I was a snake before you brought me into your house.'"

Rhoda stared at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"You know what that fellow did to get in here? Fitzner was top dog in a motorcycle gang outside of prison. A real nasty one. He ordered a contract killing on a rival gang member. They snatched the poor fellow when he was leaving a bar. Hung him from a tree, broke his legs with doublejack hammers, used him as target practice with their sawed-offs, cut his dick off and shoved it in his mouth, then left and let him choke on it and bleed to death for the rest of the night. He was out, too, far out in the mountains, and they only found him weeks later when a hunter stumbled on him. One of the killers snitched on Fitzner in exchange for dropping a drug felony sentence he was staring at. That snitch went into hiding and changed his name. Two days after Fitzner was taken to this good penitentiary, he was found with his head beaten in, in a dry creek bed."

Rhoda's head began to spin in slow whirls. Her hand where Jesse had shaken it grew very clammy. She remembered his bright smile across the desk, his dark eyes, and felt bile and vomit churn in her throat.

"You both were talking for a while, I noticed. He's good at prising information out of people, Fitzner is. A boyish smile and a few good words and he can make both men and women melt like butter on yer tongue. See? Now he knows who you are, and where your folks live. Now he can get to you."

Rhoda tried to talk, but her tongue was paralyzed. She looked down and wiped her sweaty hands on her knees.

Miles got up and went over to the door. He looked out of the window set on top, and his hard face relaxed. He seemed much older in that moment, more wrinkled and exhausted.

"You'd best be careful of him, Nurse Ames. He's a bad 'un. I'll be glad to see the back of him."

As it turned out, Miles retired later that year and it was Jesse who saw the back of him. 

And Rhoda became very wary of him from then on. Whenever he saw her in the hall, in the chow line, in the infirmary, he smiled at her and tried to make small talk. She ignored him, or was curt with him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to take that as an invitation.

[dangerously-human]

FIRST PREGNANCY, GEORGE BABYFIC, LAUNDRY AND TAXES, TORTURE BUT MARRIED 💕😍💖🙏🤲🩷

Your selections are, shall we say, unsurprising. XD Half of these I have snippets for, half are still in the conceptual/outlining stage.

First pregnancy (My Heart Walked into the World): This is from a future chapter where Lucy and Lockwood are sparring in the basement and Lockwood has an "oh this is real real, I'm actually gonna be a dad" moment.

From this angle, the swell of her belly was more apparent; in another month, if she pulled the same move, it would be prodding him in the face. Not that they’d be keeping up with sparring then — or maybe they would; the pregnancy manuals weren’t exactly written with active agents in mind. He’d have to brush up on some of the chapters toward the back of the book later. Suddenly, it was difficult to drag his gaze away from that new shape. There really was a tiny person growing in there, a person he and Lucy had made together. It was incredible and unfathomable and frankly a little bit bizarre, and it was really, actually happening. Contrary to what George might tease, Lockwood hadn’t spent much time imagining this — had assumed, maybe, that if he lived long enough, he’d eventually have children, because that was what adults did. The time before his parents died was foggy at best, so it was hard to guess at his childhood dreams; but as far back as he could remember, to little Anthony Lockwood, the options for adults were either dad or DEPRAC agent, probably, and the latter sounded terribly boring. But that was the future, and before he was ten, the future had let him down too many times to be trusted, so it didn’t bear thinking about in much detail. And then came Lucy. And somewhere along the way, even when she was still Lucy Carlyle, the vision had crystallized. Not so much the when, but the whether. And now that hazy someday was here, and Lockwood was maybe forgetting a little how to breathe.

George-centric babyfic: This one's a little tricky only because I originally started it before I had any intention of writing the first pregnancy fic, and there's a good bit of information (mainly about our faves' futures, but also about life and culture during the Problem) I was trying to convey that makes more sense there than here. In actuality I think this will be a good thing: this fic was turning into a lot of infodumping and needs to find its own identity instead. But it's going to take some rewrites, and, well. Redoing things is never my favorite. But I'm very attached to this fic; it plays a lot on George and Lucy's friendship, which is always one of my favorite things to write, and it's also sort of the foundation of the Restore the Years 'verse, in that I kept daydreaming this scene and invented seven Lockwood children to justify it and started establishing headcanons and then went, hmm, maybe I should actually flesh out how we got here. 20+ works later...

Right, so. This one does feed quite a bit off of that post that's like, we all know George lives with Lucy and Lockwood until at least their third child (this is #4), and Lockwood gets all sad puppy eyes when he says he's moving out and Flo tries to extricate him from the Lockwood commune, etc etc. My take on that:

“It’s not about that, Lockwood. You know I love Ivy, and the twins, even if I am convinced they conspired to steal all my beakers last week.” “They’re all of eight months old, George, they’re not conspiring on anything,” I said, punctuating my statement with a hefty eyeroll. “Their worst crime is mouthing salt bombs. That, or using those fancy new teeth to bite their sister.” “Nonetheless, my point stands that it’s not about the kids. As I was saying, Flo’s finally getting less antsy indoors, and I think it’s high time we started our lives together properly.” Lockwood frowned. “Now, don’t feel like you need to rush into anything—” George snorted. “Oh, yes, moving in together two years into marriage, that’s really a scandalously condensed timeline.”

Laundry and taxes: Still in the planning stage. This is the Locklyle proposal from Lockwood's POV (Lucy's POV being Where O Grave). Lockwood buys the ring (as we saw in Here's a Safe Place to Lay Your Heart Down), and then takes to carrying it with him everywhere as he tries to figure out the perfect way to propose. Everything he comes up with either doesn't suit Lucy, doesn't work out, or gets vetoed by Kipps. Eventually he's just doing laundry in the basement with Lucy and can't wait another second, and pulls out the ring from his pocket. My nickname for the story comes from that quote from Everything Everywhere All at Once (which I really need to actually watch!) about, like, "I would have liked just doing laundry and taxes with you," and my fondness for the way accepting a mundane life together is actually a really important part of the development of Lockwood's romance with Lucy, and the way the necklace of devotion symbolizes all that.

Torture but married: Basically the Winkman interrogation scene but what if they were married. I actually haven't fully decided who's in which role in this scene, although they both get beat up, so I'll be happy either way, lol. Lockwood and Lucy are doing some undercover investigation work related to their mission on the Other Side, and one of them (probably Lockwood) gets captured and mid-interrogation, the other (probably Lucy) intervenes to rescue him, also gets whammied a little in the process, there's lots of worry for each other, and the comfort and wound tending we were denied in the show episode. Also there's a line in there where he's pleading for his captors to let him go and he's like, "I have a wife and child and child at home, please," and because the entire point of this fic was for me to get to write a "that's my wife!" scene for Lockwood, eventually he gets to go, "yeah, actually that's my wife who's currently making problems for you, the baby's at home with the nanny though" and then they get to cuddle Ivy when they get home because I never got over that scene in The Peacekeeper Wars of a bloodied, nearly dead John cradling his newborn son with Aeryn looking on.

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed CH24

Damian Wayne x Oc! Female

Prev| Next

Asta lands on the window seal next to Damian. Coming back from her work to find her love sketching. 

"Is everything alright?" He asked as she shifted and leaned against him. 

"A crocked Cop was trying to extort us. My waxing Gibbous handled it. Hood's gang witnessed. I'm sure we'll be talking about some new plans soon."

"I'm happy it worked out." he kissed her forehead.

Astas moved to sit on the bed. " Draw me," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"you've never drawn me before. " Not true. He actually draws her all the time. She's his favorite subject. He conveys all this with a look. " Actual me. Human me. Make me look pretty."

"You're already gorgeous." She snorted at that before positioning herself on the bed. Dick had definitely shown her Titanic. He flipped his book to a new page. " You don't believe me."

"Gorgeous is a big word."

"And it describes you perfectly."

-

Bruce finally finished updating his Sex Ed slide show and was ready to show it. He already got his office set up. This would hopefully go better than the last talk. With a single knock, he walked in to find Damian seated by his window with a sketch pad, and on his bed was Asta... posing... naked. He quickly turned and closed his eyes. " In my office. Now," Bruce quickly closed the door. He whines as it slams. And quickly parted.

-

Asta sat still in the office chair, fighting the urge to pick at the sweatpants Damian gave her. Bruce sat across from them behind his desk. " I am aware the two of you are in a relationship. ANd it seems to have become more serious, more intimate." They looked at him, confused. " And I just want to make sure everyone is safe, responsible, protected, and consenting."

"Oh my god," Damian mumbled, dropping his head in his hands. " This is not happening."

"what's happening?" Asta asked, very confused. She did not understand what was happening.

"He wants to give us 'The Talk'." She looked more confused. " Sex. He wants to talk about sex."

"Oh, I've never had sex," Asta responds innocently as if ending the conversation.

"That's good to hear, but one should still be informed -" she didn't like where this was going.

"I know what sex is. I've had very good teachers. I don't need this." Asta quickly got up and left, ignoring their protest as she went. 

-

Asta sat curled up on the bench in Martha's garden. " I know I'm not smart, but I'm not stupid either."

"Your intelligences has never been questioned." Damian as he placed a cup od tea on the side table next to her. He sat next to her. He allowed her her silence giving her the option to fill it. 

"Why does he think we're having sex?"

"A large portion of our time together is spent alone. And the few times we were interrupted, you were seen nude. They made their own conclusions."

She snorts. " I thought you guys were detectives."

"There are moments of lacking." There was silence once, with nothing but Asta sipping her tea. They listened to the birds chirp and tweet, singing as they went about their day amongst the garden flowers. The two reflected. 

Damian reflected on their relationship, how it used to be, and what it was now. It changed. He didn't know when or how it happened. One day, he simply realized the difference. It was the closeness they were always close, but after her injuries, they became closer. Suddenly, he couldn't imagine a night without her. He couldn't go a day without feeling the tenderness of her skin. To hear her voice. To see her beauty. He always had these feelings, but now it was intensive. Even now, sitting next to her, he had the urge to ...crawl in her skin. Did that make sense?

Damian never thought these feelings were sexual. But maybe... was he like them? The men who looked at her lustful eyes even as a child. The men who pushed her into hiding. The men she feared.

He sat on his hands.

Syn reflected on all the decisions that led to this current situation. How'd she end up here? With these people? In this house? In this garden? In these clothes?! Before meeting Damian, she was all instincts; she barely spoke, had little to no human interaction, and had no clothes. She was more animal than human back then, constantly switching between furs. Human skin was rare for her. Then Damian came and she was speaking to someone, learning to be human, and wearing actual clothes. She was now finding it hard to follow her animal instincts. She was different; she was changed, she was 'tamed'. Damian looked at her as she whispered under her breath.

" Have I ever told you about my brother Eren?"

[domquixotedospobresblog]

Look how things have their right time to happen, they have their day and place, even if it's not a very special place, until that moment, because later it will be your favorite place in all the immensity of this universe. I was walking along the sidewalk, avoiding the holes where it was already worn out due to lack of maintenance. From afar, I saw a dry leaf that the wind made bounce little by little. I haven't taken my eyes off it since then. When I got closer, I bent down to pick it up from the ground. Suddenly, I felt a bump. I almost fell flat on my face. I was saved by the speed of supporting her with my hand. When I got up, I saw a girl, already blushing, asking me for forgiveness. She said, "No need. I was the one who stopped without using my turn signal." She burst out laughing, telling me that the person who hits someone from behind is to blame for not paying attention. She smiled so beautifully that I almost couldn't stop. I spent half an hour there staring at all that sweet woman. I didn't say much, I preferred to listen. Until I plucked up the courage and invited her to lunch. And we went. chatting, having lunch, laughing and looking at each other almost all the time, I didn't know if I would see her again, that's why every second was like being hit a thousand times by Cupid's arrow of so much passion, we only realized the time when the waiter asked if we wanted to have dinner too, almost together we said yes, and it was magical with that bright sky that seemed to have a night sun, we walked back along the same sidewalk already holding hands, we had already kissed a while back, but I decided not to tell you, well, now you know, right? When I passed by the place of our accident, I noticed that the leaf was still there in the same place, I disguised it to tie my shoe, picked it up and put it in my pocket, the rest of the story is told by our memory book, and that dry leaf has a prominent place on the main page.

Jonas r Cezar