#they were both really hurt in that conversation

[yessirplease69]

❝Above The Clouds & Among The Stars❞

Synopsis: Moments belonging to the relationship between you and your childhood friend, which has evolved over time. Caleb still believes that hiding his feelings from you is the most suitable choice.

✈ Content: caleb x fem reader, caleb headcanons, nsfw, explict sexual content, suggestive (mature content), drama, angst, fluff, reader being slow for not realizing how caleb is in love with her, caleb being so loving, caleb being possessive, reader is a virgin, the final part maybe happens just before the explosion?, there are many references that are found in the history of the game.

✈ Word Count: 4K

♫ Caleb playlist on Spotify: here.

a\n: ✎─ It's been so long since I posted here, finally college gave me a break. I wrote this while listening to ♫ Tinashe - Cold Sweat ♫ 50 Cent - Just a Lil Bit ♫ so you guys could say these songs were playing on the radio in the garage (spoiler lol). I feel like he would listen to songs like 50 Cent's, it really fits his style... Hope u enjoy it!

Caleb, during his high school years, is part of one of the senior classes and he has been assigned the role of class monitor for Physical Education. Although he is not in the same section as you, his role is incorporated into your core subjects, which means you encounter him more frequently in the gymnasium or in other sports areas. Occasionally, you bump into each other in the hallways, despite both of your schedules being different.

Caleb, who is always looking after you, ensures that you have all the necessary items for school, helping you choose the appropriate gym clothes for physical exercises and new supplies. This includes preparing breakfast for you and his Gran, washing an apple, and packaging it perfectly for you to take for a snack. He always wears a radiant smile on his face as he takes the strap of your bag to secure it on his left shoulder, since his right shoulder is occupied by his backpack. Caleb never allows you to take it back, as it is difficult to go against the strength of this man, who stands at 6 feet 3 inches tall, and you simply have to accept this, even if you grumble from the passenger seat of his car all the way to the school entrance.

Caleb, who has always been so affectionate only with you, is constantly touching your arms, back, cheeks, waist, and tenderly kissing your hands, even making random drawings on their palms while he is captivated by you as you excitedly share about your day. He is the type who loves physical touch and believes it creates a connection between souls because he loves you so deeply that it hurts, and this man feels that pain when he touches you. Most of the time, it is an innocent affection, and he just wants to have you close, as it is not possible to have more than that.

Caleb, who sees you growing physically and mentally with each passing day, becomes possessive and jealous of anyone who looks at you in a way that only he is allowed to. Every night before going to bed, you have conversations about boys, hoping to hear the same response come from his lips: "Don't trust those guys, pip-squeak. You still don't get how they can be mean and shady." However, with all the strength he has left, he tries to ignore it all and pretend that it does not affect him, especially since it should not interfere with your romantic or sexual life... Oh, in a rather convenient way, he will interfere with that.

Caleb, who has a toned and defined body since he exercises a lot to maintain it and prepare for when he becomes a fighter pilot in Deepspace Aviation. This boy is huge (in every sense), looks like a fridge with a chest and back as solid as iron, and he always fears breaking you when you are in his arms of pure muscle. It is inevitable not to notice teenage girls from different grades drooling when he is exposing his defined torso while walking out of the boy's locker room with the other guys. Your friends often ask you for his number, and you do not understand why you are making a sour face at them while a strange feeling hits you.

Caleb, who is naturally very skilled at winning plush toys from the claw machine. He has left his entire collection for you, however, it is still likely to find a single cute and fuzzy stuffed animal in his room, comfortably sitting on the dresser next to his bed. He always thinks of you whenever he looks at it.

Caleb, who is fucking other girls while thinking of you. It is obvious, he is an 18-year-old teenager in the process of development, and it is not possible to confront testosterone because he needs to satisfy the urges that puberty presented to him. However, he cannot remove you, your scent, or your beautiful body from his mind, and even less can he touch you as he desires because he is afraid of breaking the bond you both formed in childhood. Thus, releasing this carnal desire while he is burying his cock in some pussy out there is all he can do or imagine.

Caleb, who never walks around the house without a shirt on because he would not want to make you uncomfortable, and It is not necessary for Grandma to correct him for such a lack of manners, since his well-being is what matters most to him. But, on a weekend morning when the ladies of the house were still in bed, Caleb didn’t mind not having to put on anything right after he took a shower. Coincidentally, you had woken up quite early and caught him nearly naked in the kitchen preparing your favorite meal, with the poor boy displaying a surprised expression when you harshly told him to cover the visible marks left by feminine nails on his back. He never imagined that you had cultivated a feeling like jealousy before beginning to act roughly with him for the rest of the week.

Caleb, who splashes water on you while you are washing the dishes, and it is hard to explain at what moment the scenario turned into a war. The scene repeats when you are enjoying the summer by the pool, and the atmosphere shifts when Caleb ceases to laugh and gazes at you with a different intention in his eyes. You observe the dark-haired boy approaching, unaware that he is gripping the edge of the pool to contain the desire to kiss you.

Caleb, who maintains a very healthy routine at home and school, where you can always find him doing push-ups on the floor or running on the grass of the football field. You are seated in the bleachers with the girls when he notices your presence from miles away, and the way he flashes the purest smile while waving in your direction leaves you feeling confusingly irritated at the moment you see your friends fanning themselves and sighing loudly in unison like bitches in heat. You will blame him for making you feel this way or create reasons for it, using your anger to write unflattering things about him in your facade account book. This silly guy is completely oblivious to these details, you are ignoring him so that he follows you down the hallway, questioning what might have happened. Heaven, he is playing your game and blaming himself too, until you relent upon noticing his face marked by puppy-dog eyes.

Caleb, who is such a respectful boy, walking down the hallway and noticing that you had forgotten to close the bathroom door while you are showering. He is simply closing it slowly, intending to prevent you from being startled or thinking that he is a pervert. Not that he is not.

Caleb, who begins his training as a pilot at Skyhaven, makes a promise to take you to the clouds as soon as he returned home during his military leave. It was a summer afternoon when he wrapped his pinky finger around yours, and the casual conversation about the planes he mastered made you sigh with shining eyes. After all, who could be better than him to make you fly in the sky? Besides his incredible piloting skills and placing your safety first, this man has the power to manipulate gravity. If you were ever flying over Linkon City and were about to fall to the ground, he would use his abilities to maintain control and balance until landing. This man would never let you fall in life.

Caleb, who is automatically attracted to you and it does not require much effort on your part unlike other women. It seems that he becomes more enchanted when you compliment the delicious flavor of the meals he prepares. It is always a new achievement when you are humming and squinting your eyes with his food in your mouth. It means he is feeding you well, a task of the day completed.

Caleb, who allows you to sleep in his bed, with him, on rainy days with intense thunderstorms. You fall asleep together, your head resting on his chest as he holds you tightly while raindrops patter against the window. If he has an obligation the next morning, you will find breakfast laid out on the sheets along with a note that has a good morning message filled with childish and silly drawings. But if he does not have any other engagements, you will wake up to a kiss on your forehead or a teasing pinch on your cheek. Even when Caleb is away, he will leave the door to his room open just so you can rest there whenever you wish. You would not mention it, but you often spend more time in his room than in your own. His scent is everywhere, and when your nose detects it, only then do you feel comfortable enough to be lulled into sleep.

Caleb, who practices combat moves with you whenever he is home after being away for an extended period. Despite having become a Hunter, your fighting skills still need further refinement. And seriously, he is an excellent teacher, it is no surprise that he received praise during his time as a class monitor in high school. This man is calm and highly experienced, he will teach you each movement correctly, and as a diligent tutor, he will explain countless times, regardless of how many times you stumble and fall onto him until you successfully land a hit. You can feel the tension in his triceps as they constrict around your neck in a rear naked choke. "One wrong move and your enemy could end your life just like that." His breath caresses your neck, and he remains in that position for a few seconds as he analyzes how your body is reacting pressed against his. The grip becomes weaker, your blood circulation stabilizing, and there is an indication in your reaction that your oxygen has been lost, even though he did not apply much pressure to your neck. "Someone here needs to step it up, or else you're not getting any of Caleb's decorated cookies!"

Caleb, who tries not to look when you are doing a squat exercise in front of him, feels his cheeks flush pink every time your knees bend, presenting an indecent view of you. Fortunately, this man is very composed and will act as if nothing has happened, hence, you will see Caleb turning his head to another corner while he coughs awkwardly. He condemns himself for having such thoughts about you, and motivated by this fact, he feels the need to avoid you, using this justification in his mind to hang out with his friends instead. He needs a distraction. Yet there you are, calling him with a sweet and pleading voice, hoping to get help with your homework or to fix the bathroom socket so you can use it. How can he say no?

Caleb, who has no idea how he has made you feel attracted to him, your childhood friend, as you have labeled him. He has at least noticed how you hold your gaze on his violet eyes for a bit longer, the way your chest rises when your breathing becomes frantic, how your voice suddenly trembles, or how your body responds when he is too close. This charming individual is putting you in the palm of his hand; he does not tire of teasing you by pressing you against the refrigerator when he finds you wandering the kitchen late at night, solitary and restless, nibbling on something. Sometimes, it is not even intentional, you know, it is simply the seductive nature that Caleb possesses.

✈ ✈ ✈

The smell of gasoline mixed with grease is overwhelming and nearly clogs your nose as soon as you set foot in the large garage at home, the reason for the odor justified upon finding Caleb sitting in one of the old armchairs, deeply focused on fixing what appeared to be a car part. The radio is active on the Linkon City FM station, the device accompanying several tools scattered on the table. This place has been transformed into the man's personal space, as more airplane and car-related items are found on the shelves. Grandma and you now refer to it as Caleb's garage.

"Aren't you going to join us at the table for lunch?" Your voice is demanding as you lean half of your body against the doorframe, arms crossed while questioning the man, who does not look at you. His car is parked on the other side of the area, and you notice that the hood is open.

"Just give me a few more minutes and I'll finish up here." He finally responds to you, still immersed in the work that his hands are performing. The old white tank top that clings to his torso bears dark stains that reveal the product used, and your eyes complete their inspection of the mess displayed on Caleb's pants and across the skin of his arms.

"Busy playing with your toys, huh?" Feeling curious, you approach the Lamborghini to see what is demanding so much of the man's attention. A smile adorns his lips, and you hear a low laugh resonating in the Caleb's throat. He leans forward, rifling through the box on the floor filled with equipment. 

"Aaand... clean girls can’t come in here." Caleb studies you from head to toe for a moment, the tease playing on his lips with a smile, which broadens when he sees you roll your eyes.

"Before I leave, I'm telling you not to touch me with that dirty hand, Caleb." Your teasing retorts against him. "Go take a shower before sitting at the table, 'kay?"

"C'mon. My hand isn't even dirty, bossy brat." The tip of his boot hits the floor, driven by the beat of the music that starts playing from the device. He is moving the toolbox aside after grabbing what he wanted. "I'm gonna do a test and jump on your bed to stain your pretty white sheets."

"Pfft! You." One of your fingers is pointing towards his serene smile, which conceals all the little mischiefs. You watch him twirl a heavy object between his fingers, disregarding how you have placed your hands on your hips while gazing deeply at him.

"Stay away from the sharp tools, I'm telling you too for the twentieth time this week." He makes it very clear to you, despite not giving a firm look to affirm his words. Caleb do not want to witness the scene of you slipping in the puddle of gasoline that had formed on the floor and hitting your head against one of the saws and axes attached to the wall.

And, oh, you are doing everything except listening to him. That is why he feels you are about to do something reckless as your hand approaches the sharp edge of the object. Before the tip of your finger fully touched it, an unnatural force exerted itself upon your palm, pushing it away. You shot a piercing glance at the man seated, intending for it to penetrate him like the blade you were willing to touch.

"You're so stubborn." Caleb is staring at you, remarkably calm, the fringe of his hair falling over his eyes like a waterfall. His lips are curved in frustration as he holds an open hand in the air. His Evol is still controlling you, the vibration of that power surrounding your skin due to gravity.

"Why are you like this?! I can totally resonate with that!"

"Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet, pip-squeak." You can hear the sound of his sigh, and he is prepared to dismiss any complaints you may have. "I'm just protecting you from your own innocence. It's for your own good."

"I don't need your protection." The conviction carries your voice like a powerful weapon. And you are aiming it at him, more than ever as that manipulative pressure finally releases from your hand. Caleb was gentle in using just a little strength, with no intention of hurting you.

"You don't need it?" The way Caleb has spoken so sarcastically yet with a certain conviction has left you immobilized in place, and he was no longer using his power over you. There is a feeling of rage consuming you as you clench your fists and grind your teeth at finding him so perplexed by your behavior.

"Yeah, I'm done." Your breath quickens as you take rapid, unexpected steps toward the man. He watches your movements intently until you push his shoulders, and his back is hitting the upholstery. Strands of hair on Caleb's forehead are ruffled by the impact, and his face bears a tightly clenched jaw as he watches, frozen, while you ascend onto the chair and rest your knees on either side of his thighs.

You need not check to know that your clothing has been ruined by a bit of grease. However, the thought quickly disappears when you are approached by Caleb's fixed gaze, the overhead perspective providing a perfect angle to see the top of his chest escaping from his tank top. The shiny necklace you gave him glistens in contrast to the light, and your attempt to divert your gaze toward it proves futile.

"I don't need you treating me like a kid. Not anyone." Your mouth commands your attitude, and the dark-haired man follows each of its movements. You appear too serious, which influences his features as he raises his chin in a sign of dominance. "You idiot."

"Watch you mouth." He is reprimanding you, his tone of voice shifting to a deeper harmony. His occupied hand releases the metal piece into the air, and it makes a violent noise when it hits the ground. Suddenly, you notice his eyes darken as he closely scrutinizes your reaction, and now his fingers are pressing against your wrists. You cannot just sit on him like that, in that position, like it's no big deal. "Don't you know how to treat your elders right anymore, brat?"

"Stop!" You spit, attempting not to show your vulnerable side whenever you are around him. "Is that all I mean to you, yeah? Just a helpless brat. "For a moment, your heart aches with guilt for behaving insensitively while you find so much love in his warm gaze directed at you. This is further compounded by a small streak of black grease on his cheek, which makes him even more endearing.

"Hey silly girl, what are you talking about?" A laugh escapes his lips, and you are unsure if it was meant to sound innocent or somewhat foolish coming from him. However, as a habit, this man tries to lighten the mood of the situation, even when it leaves you feeling awkward. He wonders why on earth you have been so rude to him lately. He understands this whole independence thing you are going through, but he is beginning to lose the patience that has remained intact for years. After all, he has always done everything for you, indulging you with good things and ensuring your protection, yet you repay him in this manner.

"You don’t know?!" The walls tremble as you laugh ironically, the closeness of your faces does not intimidate him. "I hate... how you still see me as your little girl, and not as a woman." You hiss when you realize that you spoke those words too loudly, and you are failing to remove his hands from your skin, which are beginning to burn your very being.

"What?!" He cannot help but shake his head, incredulous at your words. Your breathless breaths are intertwined in the space, which suddenly becomes suffocating.

You look so beautiful sitting on his lap, that he thinks he could get used to the view. Caleb is clenching his fist tightly against the seat, trying to prevent himself from touching the accessible and more sinful areas of your body on top of him.

"Do you want me to show you how I can see you as a woman?"

There is a silence enveloping you and him, but the beat of the music becomes increasingly captivating in the background. You are still recovering from the weight of the double entendre posed to you. A tension saturates the air in more palpable forms, Caleb's gaze appearing indecisive between your enticing lips and the way your beautiful tits move as your breathing grows irregular. The manner in which his violet eyes encompass your entire body is so alluring, and you find yourself questioning why you had not noticed this much earlier.

"Yes." The whisper slips from your lips almost like a secret, yet you show no fear of proving the consequences of your bold action. You are venturing into uncharted territory, tampering with danger. The boy growls sensually in response, a primal sound that reveals how much he desires you as a woman.

He believes he can no longer endure hiding all these feelings any longer, and this man swears by his soul that if it were not for his self-control, he would throw you beneath him into that old armchair and position you to make love to him. He would not release your wrists while possessing you as his own. Caleb imagines how he would start to move his hips in a slow and tender way, just as a princess like you deserves, but then he would take you with such brutality, and you would accept him, his size, so perfectly inside you. The noise of the slaps on your ass and the sounds of wet sex would be louder than the music playing in the room. And he would keep repeatedly going in and out even if Grandma upstairs was disturbed by the depraved noises coming from your mouth. This man would make you scream in that garage until the sun sets, depending on your cardio endurance. It is okay, he has been letting you scream all the time with him lately, so it is only fair to leave you voiceless.

"Please." Your pleas are persistent, the throbbing pain in the center of your legs making your hips roll almost automatically and slowly on his groin. And it was possible to watch Caleb flying to the sky and seeing stars while he releases your wrists to grip your waist, commanding you to stop these movements. Because his big cock is hard right under you, Jesus. He would go crazy in this place and would take you to sin with him, a single slip could change everything. What would you think of him after this fateful decision? Your sweet purity going down the drain like this...

Caleb is thinking about how you are still not ready, watching you gazing innocently at him, unaware of the many desires and darker thoughts hidden within those purple orbs. You would not be able to handle all the things he wishes to do with you. Therefore, all he does at this moment is close his eyes tightly and take a deep breath in unison.

"No." His raspy tone conveys much about his arduous battle against these desires thus far. Your eyes instinctively close when his lips draw near, you emit a soft moan as you feel them brush against yours. The man is aware that once he begins to kiss you, he would be unable to stop. It is a torment to realize that you are unprepared to be wholly his, in body and soul. He requires you to have conviction in your actions before engaging in any recklessness, as both of you must be ready for that.

Then the place becomes cold as he crawls out of the seat, silently distancing himself from you while wearing a sad countenance. His eyes convey loneliness and melancholy, even as he closes the door behind him. You notice that your skin has been marked by the grease and his hands, it may take some time for you to forget the feeling of them on your body.

[puck-luck]

patchwork hearts | nico hischier

warnings: unprotected p in v, chatgpt-level swiss german (since google translate doesn’t have swiss german. only regular german. f u google translate), angst i guess (argument), make-up sex, pretty vanilla all in all, oral f!receiving, fingering.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

request: Reader and Nico get into a fight before we leaves for away from away games in the west coast and they make up when he comes back (or while he is away). Request by @hockeygirl1328. thanks queen! sorry it took so long!!

wc: 3,345

The memory of the argument flashes through your mind when Nico’s face appears on your screen. It’s the cuddliest photo you’ve ever taken of him, scruff in full form and hair messy, but that still doesn’t improve your mood. Just before he left for this road trip, you’d gotten into a massive fight about his constant travel. You love Nico, so much, but he’s always gone. It’s your first season together and the adjustment from Summer Nico to Season Nico has been really difficult.

Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t want to miss Nico for another week. He comes home for a few days, then leaves for a few more. The cycle repeats over and over again and there’s not enough time for you and Nico to establish a routine. There’s not enough time for you to even see Nico some days, which is just disheartening. Your boyfriend is basically a half-version of himself and, most of the time, it feels like his only priority in life is hockey. You don’t even rank.

Nico’s words had hurt, even though you know in your heart that he was right. It was just excessive, the way he’d dug his claws into you with only a few words. 

As the phone rings out, you hear the echo of what he said. “You knew what this life was when we got together. I don’t have time for a constant guilt trip every time I leave!”

“I didn’t sign up to be an afterthought,” you’d fought back.

“Not everything is about you, you know,” Nico snapped. “The world doesn’t revolve around you– my world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes had grown immediately wide and his jaw had dropped, like he couldn’t believe he just said that. You couldn’t believe he’d said that. The argument ended immediately– only because there was nothing you could muster up in reply. 

You hadn’t broken up with Nico for the mere statement, although you’ll admit that it crossed your mind. Instead, you’d sat in place as Nico’s many apologies fell on deaf ears. You felt almost catatonic as he’d kenlt down in front of you and tried to gauge your reaction, touching your knee with a gentle nudge. He’d wiped away the tears that leaked from your eyes, even though you’d tried to turn away from his touch. 

You’d slept over that night because you hadn’t felt you were able to move. The shock kept you in place. Nico had tucked you into his bed and relegated himself to the couch. When you woke up and you’d finally felt able to move, ready to face the boy, he was gone. There was a note on the door and a message left on your phone, both of which said roughly the same thing: that Nico was sorry he had to go, but he couldn’t stay. You knew why, of course. It was time for his California roadie. As much as you felt like an afterthought at times, you aren’t unreasonable. You know that he has to travel for his job. 

You’re still hurt, to be fair. No matter how many times Nico apologized after dropping that bomb, it continues to cut at you and pop up in your mind whenever he calls. You’ve answered twice over the duration of the roadie, but the conversations had felt stilted and forced. After the last call, just over a day ago, Nico had asked if he could come over to your apartment and see you when he got back. 

You think that he was calling a moment ago because he made it back to the Prudential Center and would be driving to your place soon. Your palms are a bit sweaty knowing that Nico is on the way. You don’t want to fight with him again and you have a feeling that he doesn’t want to fight either, but you know it’s not resolved.

You take the time before Nico arrives to calm yourself. You get a glass of water, you grab a handful of your favorite snack, and you sit on the couch to watch a bit of TV.

He calls again a few minutes later. This time, you answer.

“Hi, Nico,” you greet, voice quiet.

“Hi, I’m downstairs,” Nico says. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here before I come up.”

“Okay, Nee. I’ll see you soon.” You pull the phone away fom your ear and end the call, standing up to unlock your front door. You return to the couch and when he knocks, you call out to tell him that it’s open.

Nico comes through the door and toes off his shoes. “How was your day?” Nico asks, coming over to the couch to join you. 

“Not bad. I went to work and the gym and then I came home,” you reply. You attempt a smile at Nico when he sits on the couch and circles his fingers around your ankle, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “How was California?”

“I missed you,” Nico says. “It was hard to focus on the games when I was thinking about you. I’m sorry I left after the fight. I wish I hadn’t needed to go. I wanted to stay and make things better.”

The breath leaves your chest in a deep sigh. “It was unfortunate timing.”

“I know,” Nico agrees, nodding. “It gave me a little time to think about what to say to you, which is nice. I know I can’t really make up for what happened last week, but–” Nico takes your hand and grasps it. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t a priority for me. You are. You’re a huge part of my life and I wouldn’t be anywhere without you, supporting me and cheering me on and being there for me every day. I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate of your feelings.”

You almost want to cry again after hearing him spout this heartfelt apology. Nico sits in front of you and waits, blinking patiently and chewing on his lower lip while you take in his words. The lines under his eyes are deep and you can tell that he lost sleep over something this past week, likely this incident if his words have any truth to them. You nod and reach forward, cradling Nico’s face in your hands. “I’m sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt,” you tell Nico. “I know you can’t help that hockey is such a big part of your life. I know you don’t mean to put me on the backburner. I just felt a little neglected and I’m sorry that I accused you of making me an afterthought.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize because of how you feel,” Nico says. He slides his arm down to your waist. “I was caught up in everything else in my life and didn’t give you the attention you deserve. I never want to make you feel that way again.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I know you won’t.” You lean in and press a chaste kiss to Nico’s lips. After kissing him, you shuffle forward and tuck yourself against his chest. 

Nico pulls you onto his lap and cradles you there, kissing the top and side of your head. He touches as much of your body as he can, rubbing your back and your arms, your waist and your thighs. You breathe together, leaning against each other, and taking in the presence of the other person.

“Please let me show you how much I love you,” Nico requests after a few minutes, caressing your sides and looking at you with his big, brown eyes. “And how sorry I am for acting like I don’t care. I care, babe, I care so much.” He drops a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t reply, but you turn your head and find his lips. You touch the scuff on Nico’s face, which he seems to have shaved over his roadie, but it’s starting to grow back. His hair is at risk of being deemed “too long” in his own opinion, so you touch the strands reverently, knowing that they’ll be gone sooner than later. 

“Let me take care of you,” Nico murmurs, dipping down to brush a kiss over your jawline. 

“Okay,” you whisper back, touching the side of Nico’s neck and the curve of his bicep. 

He fits his strong palms under your thighs, lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to distract Nico on his walk to the bedroom. You might still be a little sad about what Nico said a week ago, but the apology worked well enough that you’re trying to let it go. 

Nico lays you on the bed, kissing down your body and undressing you as he goes. His touch is loving, almost overwhelmingly so. He removes his shirt and settles between your legs, kissing from your calf to the inside of your knee, up your thigh and all the way to your hip bone. 

The only sound that fills the room is the shared sigh of relief when Nico connects with your core. As his tongue flattens and licks a stripe up your slit, Nico’s eyes flutter shut and his hands fix on your hips to pull you closer. 

Ninety percent of the time, Nico gets ravenous when he’s eating you out. Today is different. 

His tongue trails through your folds. The tip of the muscle traces every inch of your cunt before he even considers pressing closer. Nico takes his time– he savors the taste of your slick. “Mm, liebste,” Nico groans. “You taste so good.” 

He works his tongue against your cunt, licking around the rim of your entrance before flicking further inside. One of his hands comes to your front, thumb contacting your clit and rubbing soothing circles over it. His other hand travels underneath your body and you let out a startled gasp when his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, dragging you even closer.

He’s systematic and precise, kitten licking at your insides. He focuses on one part of your body, then another– in this case, he goes from your hole to wrapping his all-consuming lips around your clit and suckling. 

His index finger finds your entrance and soothes the smooth ring, drawing circles over the outline of your most intimate area before you lift your hips into his touch. You’re silently asking for more and Nico understands that, gently pushing his finger inside. Just like with his mouthwork, he’s slow and attentive. 

The pad of Nico’s fingertip feels out your inner walls, welcoming the hug of your cunt around his digit eagerly and repaying you by trying to find that spot inside of you, the one that always makes you see stars. 

His hair has started to fall messily over his forehead, brushing his eyebrows. You find the strands with your hands, clutching at them and moving his head where you need it to be– for all intents and purposes, you keep him mostly aligned with your clit, but the movement of his head provides a friction that pure suction could not offer.

As you do this, his middle finger pokes at your entrance. The first knuckle disappears inside you with little resistance, then Nico starts to work on opening you up. His fingers scissor inside of you, spearing against the gummy ridges of your muscle, preparing you for his cock. 

You clench down a bit at the thought of his member, pleas for the length on the tip of your tongue. You know Nico is thinking about fucking you too, just based on the way he rolls his hips against the mattress and hums. 

He releases your clit from between his lips, which draws a whine of protest from you. Nico chuckles quietly and turns his head, planting a kiss on your inner thigh. Then, he dips his head and twists his wrist so that his palm faces upward. Nico licks between his two fingers, his eyelids open just enough that you can see how he looks up at you and takes you in. 

Nico draws away from your pussy only to ask, “Chunsch du, schatz?” 

He’s teasing you, plucking at an inside joke from when you felt you were brave enough to try to learn Swiss German. Thinking it would be sweet, you’d tried your hand at talking Nico’s native tongue in bed, but your words had just seemed too formal. Still, it’s something you can laugh over. Nico loves to parrot your effort at “Are you coming?” back at you, always smiling fondly when he does.

He’s worked his tongue back between his fingers, looking up at you with raised eyebrows. He waits for you to answer his question, sure to bump his nose against your clit when you open your mouth, so that you produce a moan instead of a sentence. Nico giggles at his little joke, cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling. He brings his mouth to your clit and kisses over the bud, steadily pumping his fingers to really bring you to orgasm.

You whimper when he works a third thick finger into your entrance, stuffing you full. You know it’s necessary since his cock is also thick, but there’s a dull ache at the first stretch that has you writhing on the bed. 

“I know, I know,” Nico soothes, lathing kiss after kiss to your sensitive center. “But I have to get you all open for me, baby. So you feel good later, hm?” He bends his knuckles and comes into contact with your sweet spot, the rush of pleasure making your back arch involuntarily. Nico notices this and grins, eyes determined and set on continuing this feeling for you.

Your noises grow more slurred with each touch of his fingertips to your walls, especially when he flicks his tongue rapidly over your clit. He’s still teasing you, dangling the climax just out of reach with the way he’ll overwhelm your clit with his tongue and then slow down, licking flat stripes along the parts of your slit that he can reach. 

“Nico,” you lament with a frown when he pulls away again, just as you were about to come.

“Sorry,” Nico apologizes with a crinkle-eyed smile. He captures your clit and keeps his mouth there, beckoning his fingers and creating a vacuum around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your vagina. This time, he doesn’t let up– he goes and goes and goes until your hands have found their way back to his hair and pull so hard that there’s a stinging sensation along Nico’s scalp.

He allows his eyes to drift shut again, free hand dancing up your body until he finds your tits, finally giving them the attention that he feels they deserve. With a few harsh gropes, a pinch or two to your nipple, and even a tug at your chest, you’re unraveling over Nico’s digits and making your situation very well known to your neighbors.

“Bravo, süsse,” Nico praises over the heaving of your chest. He stays in contact with your center, but slows his movements to something that keeps you teetering on the precipice of pleasure rather than in the throws of it. “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you rasp out, reaching for Nico and catching him by his biceps. You coax him forward, palms sliding up to his jawline. You lick over the seam of Nico’s lips and taste yourself already, the flavor of your cum only growing stronger when Nico parts his lips and slides his tongue against yours. “Fuck me, Nico.”

“Mm, hase, I’m not going to fuck you,” Nico corrects. “I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to take care of me.”

While you were ready to protest the first part of his statement, your mouth quickly snaps shut when he finishes speaking. You lay back against the pillows, propping your head up, and you bring Nico with you. His body blankets yours, shifting atop you as he tries to remove his bottoms with one hand. His other roams on your torso, stroking the curves of your sides and stomach.

“So schön,” Nico murmurs.

“So beautiful,” you repeat, thumbing over his cheekbone. 

Nico reaches between your bodies and lines himself up with your entrance. Just like before, he moves slowly. He moves with purpose. You can feel every inch of Nico’s length as it sinks into you. 

When you roll your head back to let out a soft moan, Nico seizes the opportunity to paint a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your skin. He rolls his hips, filling you further. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, hands scrambling for purchase on the expanse of his back when Nico’s tip brushes against the cartilaginous wall of your cervix. He knocks against that wall again on his next thrust forward, only drawing out about halfway before snapping forward suddenly. 

Regardless of how he fills you, his movements are still tinged with reverence and tenderness. Nico holds you like something that will break under the pressure of his fingertips, but he’s still desperate to keep you close. He’ll let his hips fall flush with yours and remain there sometimes, then other times he’ll roll and snap his hips like your lives depend on it. 

You know that there was once an argument between you, but all that matters is the fact that Nico is here and he’s doing exactly what he promised he’d do: take care of you.

His hand finds your arm, then trails up to your wrist. He presses your wrist into the cushion above your head, but doesn’t stop there. He brings his fingers up to your palm, tracing over the lines that represent your love and your life. He slots his fingers between yours and intertwines your fingers, holding your hand tight as he continues to thrust into you. He repeats the same process on the other side, until both of your hands are wrapped in his. He pins you to the bed, but you feel only safe and secure, not trapped in the slightest. 

“You’re so tight around me, baby,” Nico says, ending his statement with a kiss. His voice is low and rough, breathless and nearly spent due to the tango you’re performing now. “Gonna fill you up, fill you ‘til all of my love is dripping out of you.”

You were already overwhelmed, but when he said that– and then nibbled your bottom lip after– you feel a dam break inside of you. You come suddenly and without warning, jaw dropping. A high keen falls from your mouth, only to be met with a coo from Nico and a deep grunt as he continues to fuck into your even tighter entrance. 

The squeeze of your cunt around Nico’s cock is enough to make him come too, the white spurts of cum filling your hole just like he’d promised. You can feel Nico trembling a bit from the aftershocks, your chest meeting his as you arch up into his touch and he deflates from exhaustion. He covers you just like a warm comforter and kisses you lazily, both of you wanting to stay connected after such an intense reunion.

You feel satiated, calm and happy that Nico came to you when he returned instead of going home and basking in the misery of the argument from a week prior. You certainly feel better now, after having gone through the throes of that low point in your relationship.

“Mm,” Nico hums, like he remembered something suddenly. His head tilts and he kisses along the crook of your neck. “During the break in February, I thought you’d like to come home with me. We can have a little couples vacation at home, just you and me. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Nico,” you tell him, smoothing his hair beneath your fingertips. “That sounds amazing.”

note: read a stoner!nico fic recently that Cece reblogged and I tweaked. thinking of y'all! i think you'll see nico a lot sooner on this blog than you expect... perhaps a little "nico x ____ x reader".....

[respectthepetty]

I don't mind cheating (plots), so I'm thrilled to see what sex is going to be like for Hagiwara Kazuaki and Nakarai Sei next episode since I think it's going to be life-changing!

Especially because this was Sei's fantasy with Fujisawa, who shares the same name with Hagiwara, yet the real sex with Hagiwara seems to have more emotion involved due to the warm coloring of the scene above.

When Fujisawa says he doesn't like being impulsive, Sei says that being a man of action is a good thing, and Sei is also the one who presents Hagiwara with the counterargument that there are two types of men: those who seize the opportunity to have sex, and those who don't.

So Hagiwara being the one to initiate the sexual part of their relationship by politely letting Sei know he wants to have sex with him will be perfect since that is the type of man Sei wants, and Hagiwara only believed he was being polite to his girlfriend so he could have sex, yet he has been polite to Sei the entire time without intentionally wanting to have sex with him.

So the sex will finally show both men what they have been missing.

Hagiwara told Sei that his eyelashes were beautiful at the company dinner.

And he also wanted Sei to get his foot checked so he didn't hurt his waist.

Basically, he has been eyeing Sei's body since the beginning.

And it's always been sexual.

But he dismisses it because he just thinks it's because he is horny.

Yet he is only looking at Sei. He doesn't look at his friends or other people like he looks at Sei. He doesn't even really seem to care that other people are around since he is always thinking about Sei.

Hagiwara wants to see Sei, and more importantly, he wants Sei.

He sent a follow-up email after his first incorrectly sent email. He asked Sei for his email after Sei said he didn't have a LINE account. He asked Sei to dinner after work on Wednesday. He has been the one to close the distance between them.

Because he hates the distance that has grown in his relationship.

And Sei's in love with a man whose entire career is built on creating distance.

But these two no longer want the coldness that comes with that distance. They want the warmth of intimacy, and they don't need sex for that because they were intimate with each other before they even knew who the other person actually was.

Does Fujisawa know that Sei not only has met Hagiwara several times outside of work, but that they work together too?

Does Kaori know what they write about in the follow-up emails?

And that's why I don't mind cheating (plots) because it's not always black and white. This show revolves around how important sex is in a relationship, but it's really about what makes a relationship when sex is removed. So if both men can be in a sexless relationship, then both could also be having a sexless affair.

The relationship they have with their partners is superficial. They cannot be honest with the people they live with because anytime they try to be, their partners quickly end the conversation. They don't actually share their lives with those people because when they do, their partners run away. Instead they've been telling every little intimate detail to each other, so the affair started without sex.

They've been warming up to each other through all of their conversations.

Which is why the sex is about to be 🔥🔥🔥

It has to be, so they can finally set their cold existences aflame and burn their lives down.

[yoyomomiko]

Heyyy could you make a fluffy comfort oneshot of ticci toby x ignored reader? So like the reader tends to not be listened to and like, doesnt talk much because of it? If that makes sense! Just a super cute fic full of reassurance and physical affection/words of affirmation lol! Thankyou! 💗

꒰ ☆ ꒱ — “HEARD”

pairings: ticci toby x female reader

wc: 1.1k+

cw: angst (?), cringe, not proofread, also probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!! the creepypasta mansion is real!! >:(

— (a/n): i actually haven't written anything in soooo long!!! also i'm extremely bad at writing comfort so i'm very sorry :(( -> m.list

You were used to silence.

Not the peaceful kind, the kind that wraps you in warmth and lets you breathe, no. Yours was the heavy, suffocating kind. The kind of silence that clung to you because no one ever truly listened.

It wasn't that you never spoke. You did. Sometimes. When it felt important.

But your words were often brushed aside, ignored, or spoken over. So, with time, you just sort of... Stopped trying.

It was easier that way. Easier not to try.

Because trying meant disappointment, and disappointment always hurt more than silence.

It wasn't hard to see why Toby had fallen for you.

You were both outsiders in your own ways, different kinds of overlooked. The moment he met you, something just clicked in his brain.

He didn't talk over you. Didn't brush you aside. Didn't make you feel like you had to fight to be heard.

And yet you still held back.

Even in the mansion, surrounded by people who were supposed to be your people, it was no different. Conversations just flowed around you, and if you tried to join in, it was like no one would even notice. Sometimes, someone would glance your way, but by the time you worked up the courage to speak, the moment would pass.

And tonight was no different.

You sat on the worn out couch, curled up in the corner, listening as the others talked. Ben was ranting, Jeff was being as loud as ever, and Toby was laughing along.

You saw a gap in the conversation, a tiny opening where you thought that maybe it was the time to speak up. All you had to do was wait for Ben to finish his sentence, and then you could finally start.

"I–"

"That reminds me of–"

Jeff quickly yelled out, not even acknowledging you. You couldn't even finish your first word, the subject just changed in an instant.

Your mouth snapped shut, the grip you had on your shirt tightening. Of course.

Your chest ached, but you swallowed it down. You had no reason to feel upset. This was normal. You should be used to it by now.

So you did what you always did. You quietly forced yourself to your feet, slipping out of the room unnoticed.

Or at least that's what you thought...

...

Toby had noticed.

It had taken him longer than he'd like to admit, but once he saw it, he couldn't stop seeing it. The way your eyes would light up for half a second before fading again. The way you always shrank into the background, like you believed you didn't deserve to take up space.

And then there was tonight.

He saw the way your lips parted, just barely, before the conversation swallowed you whole. He saw the way your shoulders dropped, how you curled in on yourself before quietly leaving the room.

He wasn't the smartest guy, but he knew that wasn't normal.

So, without hesitation, he pushed himself off the couch and followed after you.

...

You were sitting outside, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the dark trees surrounding the mansion. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you didn't really care. It was better out here, quieter.

A soft thud sounded beside you.

You turned your head just in time to see Toby plop down, his face twitching for a quick second. He didn't say anything at first, just sat there, hands fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. It was strange, Toby wasn't really the type to sit still.

"You didn't have to come out here." You glanced away, a frown slowly forming on your lips.

"But I wanted to." He replied, his gaze softening.

Silence.

You weren't sure what to say, so you didn't speak up. Just like you always did.

"Are you okay?" Toby spoke up after a while, his voice unusually soft.

You hesitated. You weren't used to being asked that. At least not in a way that felt... Real.

"Yeah." You lied, gently nodding your head, avoiding his gaze.

"Liar." He shot back.

You glared at him, but there was a grin plastered to his face, eyes filled with something warm that made your stomach twist.

"Come on." He nudged your shoulder. "I saw what happened."

"It's nothing, I'm used to it." You felt a bad taste in your mouth, like you were about to cry. Your chest tightened, and then came that same heavy and suffocating feeling you always had.

"That's not– That's not alright." He shifted so he was fully facing you, his knee brushing against yours. "You shouldn't have to– to be 'used to it'."

You shrugged, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat. "It's not like it's on purpose. I just... I don't matter as much as everyone else–"

Toby's entire body went still. For a second, you wondered if you had said something wrong, which you did. Then, before you could react, he leaned closer, his forehead gently pressing against yours.

"Don't–... Don't say that." He mumbled, his voice was softer than you had ever heard it.

Your breath hitched as your heart skipped a beat.

"You matter." Toby continued, tilting his head so his nose brushed against yours. "I hear you. Even when no one else does, I do."

Your eyes burned, but you blinked rapidly, forcing the feeling down. "Toby..."

"I mean it." He whispered, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "I love hearing you talk. I love the way your voice sounds. I love the way your eyes light up when you get excited. And I hate that you don't feel like you can share it."

"It's hard..." A shaky breath left you as you prayed that the tears in your eyes weren't visible.

"I know." Toby whispered. "But I promise you never have to be quiet around me." He smiled, tilting his head playfully. "Actually, I insist you talk my ears off. Give me all the random thoughts in that pretty little head of yours."

A smile tugged at your lips, and before you could stop it, a small snort escaped you.

"There it is, there's that smile!" His smile widened as he gently kissed your forehead before pulling back to look at you again.

Your chest felt lighter, like maybe, just maybe, you weren't as invisible as you thought.

Toby pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in warmth. He rested his chin on top of your head as he started swaying you gently. "I love you." He mumbled into your hair. "I'm gonna make sure you never feel alone again."

And for the first time in a long time, you actually believed it.

[suugarbabe]

(I tried looking you up by Sab again)

Ok so I checked if your requests were open first annddddd….. ok so *takes a deep breath* in my old age, I’ve become a fall risk (jk) BUT I did slip in the snow and ice the other day - it was chill, I laughed and laughed and laughed, got back up and went about my business - but I landed right on my tailbone and now my neck and the arm I tried to catch myself on are KILLING me.

All this to say….Can I request a fic - I’ll leave the ship up to you, any of the Slytherin boys will do - where reader does something similar and how they would fuss over her?

xoxoxo love you love time my sweet lovely lady <3 <3

maybe one day i will have cher-ified myself enough to be known only as sab and you can search that alone to find me, but alas...it has still not come to that yet my sweet girl.

let's do my darling boy theodore for this one 😇 may or may not have gone a little extra with some slight hurt comfort so i do apologize (this is not proofread)

It really didn't seem like that big of a deal, at least not at the time. You had crazily suggested walking back from Hogsmeade yesterday. The snow just looked so pretty on the ground, and Scotland was in a rare day to where it wasn't actually windy. Thus, you opted for a walk, for the views (and because you just didn't feel like going back to the castle so soon).

The majority of your group opted for the carriage ride. 'Do you see these shoes? They're not walking back', Enzo was in full dramatics yesterday. Shy, sweet, lovely, Theo was the only one who volunteered to walk with you. Whipped was what Matty called him, the others giggles following suit. Theo threw two fingers in the air before Matty returned the gesture and closed the carriage door.

Theo had laced his fingers with yours with practiced ease, slowing his step down slightly to keep pace with yours. Conversation always flowed easy between you and Theo. The others never seemed to believe you; Theo had grown pretty quiet since third year. But that never seemed to be the case when he was by your side.

And you knew the feeling, that little rush of excitement in your chest when you were around him. The energy that seemed to flow through your veins and extend into your finger tips. Like anything he was saying was the most important thing in the world. And all you wanted to do was tell him every thought you'd ever had. Because you knew he listened, and he listened intently.

That's what he was doing now; listening. You were going on and on about an extra credit assignment Flitwick was letting you do for charms. Theo loved how enthusiastically you spoke when you were excited. Your hand had slipped from his, but he didn't mind. He knew you needed both in order to feel like your story telling was getting across.

You were telling him how close you were to being successful, maybe getting a little too excited as you had hopped just the smallest bit; which was what happened to cause your down fall. Literally. On the come down from your small hap the heel of your boot caught a patch of ice.

He had tried to reach out for you, but your body had slammed on the ground faster than even his chaser reactions could muster. You had tried to catch yourself too, to no avail. Instead you landed right on your ass, your tailbone catching the majority of your weight as you hit the frozen cobblestone path.

You had attempted to reach an arm out too, only for your elbow to collide with the ground just after your bottom. Theo was quick to get to your level, running his hands along your arms and legs, checking for anything swollen or broken. He had taken your face in his hands, his eyes full of worry until you cracked a smile.

And then you started laughing. Laughing and laughing and laying back down flat on the stone and ice, a hand holding your elbow. Theo had laughed with you, albeit only slightly and very nervously, before helping you stand back up and half-carrying you to the castle grounds.

So it really had been nothing, the pain even slightly subsiding once your reached your dorm.

Until you woke up this morning. And everything hurt.

Your friends had tried to wake you up for breakfast, nudging you awake. Even the slightly touch to your elbow had you cursing. "For fucks sake," you groaned, "just go without me." Your tone was sharp without meaning to, but it felt like your whole body was throbbing.

When everyone else finally left you tried to roll on to your back only for a shooting pain to travel from your tail bone up to the base of your skull, "Fucking Salazar, nope. Not happening." You then went to roll on your side, seemingly forgetting about your arm until you pushed it too far into the bed and a hiss left your lips.

You groaned in frustration, flipping (slowly) on to your stomach, deciding in that moment that the only way you were leaving your bed today was to go to the bathroom. And even that proved incredibly difficult in the state your muscles and bones were feeling.

Thankfully your friends had brought you up some breakfast, you munching slightly on fruit on toast like half-holding your self up on your good elbow before laying back down on your stomach. Your hope was that by using your body as minimal as possible today would then make you feel only a tiny bit sore and normal tomorrow.

After an unknown length of time, your sleep was interrupted by vocal commotion outside your door. "Theo, mate, you can't just barge in to someone's room," it sounded very much like Mattheo, but you couldn't be for sure through the thickness of the door.

That wasn't a problem quickly, as (assumingely) Theo had pushed your door open, shouting back at Matty in Italian, "non dirmi cosa fare! (don't tell me what to do)".

You were still rubbing sleep from your eyes when you felt a dip in your mattress near your head. As you peaked an eye open, you came face to face with Theo. His eyes were wide, the blue in his iris's so clear you could almost see right through them. If you could you'd have seen the racing thoughts flowing in Theo's mind.

"Tesoro, love, what is hurting. How can I help? Why are you laying on your stomach, can you not move? Oh Merlino, is it bad?" Theo's hands hovered over your, not sure where was safe to touch and where wasn't.

You let out a small laugh, the action making your torso shake and the pain in your back become shooting again. Your wince did little to ease Theo's mind, "I knew I should've taken you to Pomfrey after you fell yesterday."

Shaking your head, you reached out to grab his wrist, effectively calming his hovering hands, "I'm just a little sore, Teddy. Probably bruised my tailbone. I know I've got a bruise on my elbow." You lifted that arm up, displaying the hint of purple on your skin.

"il mio angelo..." Theo gently held your arm just below the color change, his lips placing the gentlest kiss to your affected skin. You hummed in content at the action, knowing surely your cheeks blushed. "Since you're here, think you'd be comfortable enough to check my lower back? It hurts like no other."

"Of course," Theo stood up from the side of your bed, grasping the edge of your duvet before pulling it down just below the small of your back. "Nice pajamas," you could hear the smirk in Mattheo's voice as Theo slowly pulled your pajama top. "Bloody hell, Theo said you fell but-"

"Enough Matt-" there was a sharpness in Theo's voice that Mattheo seemed to follow without question. Mattheo seemed to also take that as his cue to leave, effectively leaving you and Theo alone in your room.

Theo's fingertips brushed lightly over the purple bruise that spread from underneath your pajama bottoms, "Tesoro, you poor thing. I'm so sorry I didn't help more yesterday. I should've...I should've done more yesterday. I could've given you an elixir or something...preventative even.

You've been in pain all day and I've been doing nothing you help," Theo nearly collapsed on the side of your bed, head falling to his hands. You pushed yourself up the best you could, leaning more to your good side and breathing deeply as to not further worry him.

"Teddy...it's okay. I didn't even hurt that much yesterday," You placed a hand on his back, rubbing smooth circles across it. Theo looked at you then, and you noticed his eyes slightly brimming with tears.

Your heart all but broke in two, pulling him in tight embrace, "I'm okay, Teddy. I promise." Theo squeezes you tightly, burying his face in your neck. "M'sorry. M'so sorry," a few tears had fallen down his cheeks when he pulled away; you quickly reached up and wiped them away.

"It's just.." he looked away from you briefly, "it's just i couldn't really...do anything when my mum was dying. So when someone i lo-care about gets hurt it just...scares me a little." You grabbed hold of his hand, lacing your fingers with his, "Well I'm glad you care about me, Theo. I, erm, care a lot about you too."

Theo met your eyes again, "Yeah?" You nodded, pulling your lip between your teeth. "Good," Theo's smile was back, a small pull of his lips and a brightness in his eyes. Then he leaned in closer, tension palatable with the shortening of distance.

He free hand cupped your jaw, thumb tracing gently on your cheek. You decided to be the bold one, fisting the material of his shirt and pulling his lips down to yours. It was soft at first, Theo gasping slightly at your eagerness before melting in to it all together, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction.

His hands soon found your waist, full intentions on deepening the kiss as his hand moved to your back before you pushed him back with a slight hiss. Theo's face fell, "M'so sorry, I-" you held his hand up, cutting him off, "It's okay, Teddy. I'm fine. Just...maybe another kiss will make me feel better again."

Theo nodded, playful grin on his lips, "I can do that."

[buck-star]

His exception

A new bank robbery and you’re not so sure about it all anymore. Chris, however, knows what you need and he’s more than willing to offer it.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Chris x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 3.554 Words

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Minors DNI, mentions of gun’s, bank rubbery, undercover mission, angst, fluff, smut [oral (fem!rec), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasm, praise, aftercare], petnames [baby, babe, pretty girl]

Authors Note: There were some of those gifs of him, and however @navybrat817 made me want to write him even more them. @soelstress more Destroyer!Chris. Divider made by me.

Events: Elixirscinema [🖊 ...✩ You are my exception. — He’s Just Not That Into You | 🍰 ✩｡⋆⸜ “Kiss me.” | Love Again "Show me that heaven's right here, baby. Touch me so I know I'm not crazy. Never have I ever met somebody like you. Used to be afraid of love and what it might do, but goddamn, you got me in love again." — Dua Lipa], Beginnings Bingo [Row One-One | First Mission | @sweetspicybingo], Hurt and Comfort Bingo [BO32 | Row Three-Two | Praise | @hurtcomfort-bingo]

Masterlist | Destoryer!Chris Masterlist

The sun is softly shining into the small room that you call yours and Chris’ home. The door’s closed and locked, but you still hear the voice outside. With a soft sigh, you pull the sweater over your head and put on your shoes. It’s pretty early, and you stayed half of the morning in bed to read a bit.

Chris offered to stay in bed with you, but after Jay kept pushing Chris to move his ass because he got some snow and wanted to try it, you almost pushed him out of bed. You love cuddling with him, but reading while cuddling with Chris only ends with Chris on top of you and the book anywhere but not in your hands.

You unlock the door, walking out into the darker floor. The door to Silas and Shelby’s room is slightly open, allowing you to look inside, at least as much as you’re able to see the two of them.

Shelby’s sitting on her boyfriend's lap while he looks slightly up at her. A soft grin is curling his lips upwards while he listens to her.

“That’s a really big thing; my cousins told me about it. He’s good at it; it’s a big thing, trust me,” Shelby says quietly but still loud enough for you to hear. Silas nods, looking thoughtful for a moment before he pulls her closer with his arms around her waist.

“Then—“ he trails off, leaning closer to her to kiss her neck softly. With a shake of your head, you walk further through the floor, not wanting to watch the porn.

Chris is sitting on one of the small couches in the corner of the room, his legs spread and his back against the backrest, while he watches Jay taking another row of the drugs. But your boyfriend's ocean blue eyes are immediately on you when he notices you walking into the room, a soft smile playing around his lips.

You walk closer to him, forcing a soft smile on your lips when you nod at Jay, and then your eyes settle on Chris. He’s still watching you, his hands slowly moving from his lap to stretch out in your direction.

With a swift movement, you sit down on his lap, your knees on both sides of his thick thighs when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you even closer. His nose trails along the soft skin of your neck from your shoulder to your ear before he kisses the spot underneath your earlobe.

“How’s the book, babe?” He asks, his voice rough but still so soft and tender that you relax in his embrace. His smell surrounds you, and you take a deep breath before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“It’s good, but can we talk?” You mumble, kissing his neck as well. The others are used to people making out and getting into their rooms. So, to keep the attention away from your conversation with Chris, you just pretend to make out with him.

He hums, smirking when he gets up with you in his arms. He winks and nods at Jay before you pull him into a kiss and feel his warm, plump lips softly moving against yours as well. Chris growls low in his throat as he walks out of the room with you and back into the hallway.

His ocean blue eyes focused on you, his lips in a thin line. When you walk past Silas and Shelby’s room, you hear the grunts and moans of both of them, shaking your head in disgust. Chris laughs softly, kissing your forehead softly.

“Free porn for us, huh?” He asks and hurries to get back into your shared room. You nod, your arms tightly around his neck while you run your fingers up and down the back of his neck. His trimmed hair tickles your fingertips while your nails scratch softly along the soft skin. “Guess we should do our own, better quality.”

You chuckle softly. Chris opens the door and walks into your room, closing it behind the two of you and locking it for some privacy. He lets you down, turning the two of you around before he presses you with your back against the wooden door.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice low and quiet. His head tilts softly, his eyes soften, and he brings one of his hands to your waist. His calloused hand grips your soft flesh lightly. The other of his hands is pressed next to your shoulder against the door.

You shake your head, snaking your hands from his shoulders down to his firm chest. Chris immediately understands, leaning his head forward and pressing his lips as soft as possible onto yours. His tongue swipes over your lower lip, parting them softly before he devours your sweet taste with a low grumble in his chest.

He pulls away slowly, looking down at you with a soft smile on his plump lips. His fingers dig into your waist, his lips hovering above yours while he lets his other hand next to your shoulder slide down your shoulder and slide toward your waist as well. Just when he could curl his thick fingers around it, he moves it to your center and captures your cunt with his hand.

“Say it, say please, and you will get what you need, babe,” he says, his breath warm against your lips, and you nod your head. He chuckles, shaking his head when you buck your hips instead of answering his questions with words. “Words, babe, I need you to say out loud what you want.”

“Please, need you, Chris,” you whimper, feeling his fingers slowly rubbing your folds through the fabric of your sweatpants. A shaky whine followed by a soft moan falls from your lips. Your fingers curl around his shirt tightly, pulling him closer and grounding yourself.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, leaning down to kiss you passionately once more. Chris brings both of his hands to your waist, grip tightening before he lifts you up and carries you to the bed. He sits you down softly, kneeling down in front of you while he lets his hands snake up and down your thighs.

Your boyfriend pulls at the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to lift your hands so he’s able to slip it over your head and throw it away. Chris leaves you with flushed cheeks and only a bra and sweatpants while his blue eyes roam over your body.

No matter how often he sees you, sees you naked, he adores you, adores your body. He can never get enough of you, and he shows you with every part of him. Chris’ tongue pokes out, wetting his lips and making you whimper.

He leans closer to kiss your sides, along your stomach to the other side before he kisses his way up to your bra. His hands keep the soft motion on your thighs. “So sweet, all mine.”

You nod, whimpering. Chris pushes you back softly, and you crawl backward on the bed until you’re comfortable. Your legs dangle down the mattress on both sides of your boyfriend's thick body. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants, pushing them down and off your legs to reveal your soaked panties.

“Look at you, all wet and needy for me, babe,” he mumbles, bringing his lips to your covered pussy. His tongue licks a thick strip from your entrance up to your clit, where he sucks at the soft fabric and groans at your sweet taste.

“C-Chris, please,” you moan, wiggling your hips to get more of his warm mouth against your cunt. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you into the mattress while his lips remain around your clit and his eyes are locked with yours. “N-no teasing, please, Chris.”

Chris kisses your panties once more before he pulls back and slides the thin fabric down your legs, throwing it on the floor as well. His lips trail up your thighs, kissing and biting softly while he keeps you in place with his big hands on your waist.

“Spread ya legs for me, babe, put them on my shoulders,” he mumbles, and you obey, spreading your legs when you place them on both of his shoulders and caging his head between them. “Good girl.”

His voice is rough, sending a shiver down your spine. A low chuckle leaves his lips when he notices the goosebumps all over your body. Chris keeps kissing up to your pussy, leaving soft marks all over your skin.

“You’re so wet; that’s all for me, pretty girl?”

“M-mhm, all for you, Chris, only for you,” you whimper, bucking your hips to get closer to him. He pushes himself up slightly, causing your legs to lift as well so he can position himself better between your legs. His tongue slides over his plump lips once more before he lowers himself and kisses your wet folds.

Your hands immediately sink into the sheets underneath you, gripping them tightly while you pull at them harshly. Chris smirks, lifting his head so that his beard scratches over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He lowers his head again and lets his tongue run over your folds to your entrance.

His calloused hands stroke your thighs up and down before he uses one of them to bring to your cunt and tease your entrance with one of his thick fingers. He dips in slightly, slipping back out and doing the same with his tongue.

“C-Chris, no… no teasing, please,” you whine, a moan coming out when he plunges one of his thick fingers into your tight cunt. His lips are moving back to your clit, his tongue swirling around it while he pumps his digit in and out of you.

If you would look down at him, you would notice the grin on his face, his eyes locked on your face and taking in every little detail of your expression.

You feel the knot in your stomach tightening. His digits storming your spongy spot with every movement. Chris's beard is adding more pleasure, making you moan and wiggle underneath him.

“Can take another finger?” He asks, knowing the answer, and before you can respond to his question, he already pushes a second digit into your tightness. His name falls from your lips, your mouth drops open, and your legs shake when he speeds up the thrusts of them. “Mhm, gonna cum, pretty girl? Cum for me and make a mess on my fingers, babe.”

And you do, his warm lips, his soft beard, and his thick fingers sending you over the edge. Your pussy is clenching around him while you throw your head back and moan his name loudly. You’re panting, your eyes closed as he keeps fucking you with his tongue and fingers through your orgasm.

Only when you whine and try to wiggle away from him does he stop and pull his fingers out of you. Chris pushes your legs softly off his shoulders and sits back. His tongue pokes out, and he places his fingers on them, circling them with a deep groan.

“You're the sweetest thing on earth, baby,” he mumbles. Chris takes off his shirt, revealing his trained chest. His pants and boxers are pushed down after, and he steps out of them. “Crawl up, get comfy, and spread those pretty legs for me.”

You nod, still fucked out, but you do as he says and move further up the bed. Your head in the pillows, you lick your lips when your eyes settle on his thick, leaking cock.

“Can you take me, or do you just want to cuddle?”

“You… want you, please,” you whimper, spreading your legs apart for your boyfriend. He smiles softly and crawls up the bed, settling between your legs. Chris lets himself fall slightly on top of you, his throbbing dick rubbing along your wetness, and you immediately buck your hips upwards.

Chris leans down to kiss you softly, his tongue sliding over your lips and sliding between them. One of his hands moves between your bodies, wrapping around his shaft and stroking himself a few times before he lines up with your entrance.

His teeth bite slightly down on your lips, and he pulls it softly, then kisses you once more while he pushes in. Your moan is swallowed by him, his cock stretching your tight cunt, and you take a deep breath when he pushes further into you. No matter how often you have sex, it’s always a tight fit, and his cock feels just so thick it’s causing a light burn in your pussy.

“Shhh, so good for me, baby. Takin’ me like a good girl, my good girl,” he mumbles softly, running one of his hands up and down your side as he uses his other hand to stroke his knuckles along your cheek. Chris pushes further into you, bottoming out with his balls flush against your ass cheeks. “That’s my good girl, take a deep breath. That’s not about fucking, baby; it’s about making love. You don’t need to adjust immediately; we can just stay like that.”

If someone were to ask you why you love that man, that would be the reason. The softness he has around you. The love he shows you, the understanding.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down. Chris chuckles and lowers himself, his chest pressed against yours. With your legs around his waist, you let them slide down his thighs and tangle them with his.

“You’re so beautiful, so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers, his lips so close to you but not breaking the distance just yet. His ocean blue orbs are so soft when he looks into yours. There's nothing that matters but the two of you at the moment.

It doesn’t matter that Silas makes a plan for the next bank robbery or that the others play Russian roulette with a gun that doesn’t have any bullets in it. It just doesn’t matter because you’re safe; he's safe. And for the moment, it’s just you and him, connected and filled with love for one another.

“You can move, if you want,” you say softly, lifting your head to kiss him. Chris's lips move in tandem with yours as he pulls his hips back and lets his cock pull out except for his tip before he pushes back into you. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, and you whimper into the kiss.

Your walls clench around his thick dick, earning you a low groan from your boyfriend. “You make me go crazy, and I love it, pretty girl,” he mumbles with a smirk on his lips. You smile softly back at his sweet words, sighing and moaning softly when he thrusts steadily but slowly into you. Chris lets you feel every inch of his cock.

“I love you, Chris, I love you so much,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too, baby. My good girl, my precious girl,” he whispers back. He captures your lips with his once more; his thrusts speed up slightly. He’s stretching you so perfectly, hitting all the right spots, and the softness causes the coil in your stomach to tighten again. “Gonna cum for me?”

You nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him. Chris smirks, pushing further into you, his lips never leaving yours.

“Then come for me, squeeze me,” he growls. You whimper, your walls clenching around his twitching cock. The coil in your stomach snaps. You moan, throwing your head back while your legs tremble and your pussy is squeezing around your boyfriend's cock, pushing him over the edge as well. “Fuck, just like that, baby.”

Chris' voice is husky and his hips stutter when his warm cum spurts out of his tip. He’s keeping his cock deep in your cunt, his thrusts slowing down until he stops and lays down on top of you. He’s still taking care to keep his weight mostly on his arms and legs.

He’s panting just like you, sweat running down his forehead, but he still has the soft and adorable smile on his face. The smile that reaches his eyes, making them light up even more. “So good, baby, so good for me. Your pussy squeezed me so hard, mhm, love you. I fuckin’ love you, babe.”

You giggle, running your fingers over his short hair, letting your nails scratch along his scalp. “I love you too. Can you… Can you stay like that a moment longer?”

Chris nods, though he wraps his arms around you and turns both of you around so he’s underneath you. “That’s oke, too? Don’t want to crash my baby.”

“Mhm, more than oke,” you whisper and smile. You kiss his neck and shoulders softly, leaving some hickeys on his soft skin. For a moment the two of you are quiet, just enjoying the closeness and warmth of one another. But then you speak up to finally tell him about what you heard earlier and caused your mood change. “Chris, I-I’m… I’m scared; they plan a big thing… a bit… bank robbery.”

“We can just call, and they get us out of here, you know that, right?” He asks, and you nod. You would love to get out of the mission, but you also know that this is an important mission for Chris. One he worked so long for, and now you almost got the guys. You can’t just step back and ruin it all because of a bit of fear. Chris notices your thoughtful expression, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “It doesn’t matter if we almost get these guys; if you say you want to be out of the mission, we will do exactly that.”

“But you said… it’s important for you, Chris. You didn’t want to stop that mission for anything. And I agreed; I knew details about the mission. You played with open cards, and you told me that nothing… there’s nothing you would cancel that mission,” you say. He nods; he knows that he said it, and he meant it when the mission started, but now there are things that are different — things that are more important for him.

“I know, but you’re my exception. I don’t care about the mission if it makes you uncomfortable. If you say no, you don’t want to be stuck in here any longer because you don’t feel safe, we’re going to make the call and we’re out of here. When they don’t get these guys because of that, it’s their problem; they have so much information, and with the bank robbery, they play even more,” Chris explains, and you know he’s right. Tears well up in your eyes, and you nod, trying to snuggle more into him. Your boyfriend pulls the blanket over the two of you, his arms wrapping tighter around you, and he kisses your forehead softly. “I want you to be happy, baby.”

“But you said… I don’t want to ruin it for you; I don’t… It’s weird; there’s… I’m not sure why I’m afraid; I know they keep an eye on us while we are on the mission, but…” You trail off; a few tears roll down your cheeks. Chris immediately brings both of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping the tears away and pulling you closer. His lips are only inches away from yours.

“I said that because before I met you, my job was everything for me. I haven’t had anything else but it. And then there was you, and I fell in love with you. You’re the most precious and beautiful thing that happened, and I couldn’t be happier. Baby, I love you. I don’t care about any mission like I care about you,” he says softly, kissing you softly. His lips linger against yours, underlining his words. “I loved my job, but you showed me what falling in love really means. You made me love again, made me love something — someone that matters more than my job.”

“I love you too… But I want to… I want to finish that mission with you,” you confess. He nods slowly.

“We can, I just want you to know that you matter more than that mission,” he says, and you smile softly. You peck his lips and trail your lips down to his jawline and down to his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin.

“I know, but I want to. I know you’re here; you take care that no one gets hurt,” you say softly.

“Sounds like a plan, and of course I do, baby. So let’s find out where and when they plan the robbery, and then we are out of the mission,” Chris says. You nod but remain on top of him. He chuckles low in his throat. “Let’s cuddle a bit longer, and then we’ll get ourselves cleaned; Jay will tell us all about the plan anyway.” You giggle, kissing his neck and biting softly into it while he tickles your sides and makes you squirm on top of him to get away from his fingers poking into your sides with a grin on his lips.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @alexxavicry @gremlin-girly @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @bamitzzsam [add yourself]

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The town square of Wakanda was busy with bodies getting ready for the soon arrival and as Bucky and I stood hand in hand, I could help the way my heart jumped with nerves. I was nervous for the fight and nervous to see Steve again after so long. 

My hair blew with the wind as the jet made its final descent, coming to a halt in front of us. As the ramp opened, I saw my old friends ascend down. They couldn’t see us and I took it as an opportunity to sneak away from them and Bucky, the nerves becoming too much to handle. Bucky was talking with Steve so he hadn’t noticed me walk away. 

Everything was happening too fast and I didn’t have the chance to stop to think about what the outcome would be. 

Maybe Bucky and I could leave, let them fight this on their own. We could go back to our normal lives, something that we both deserved. This wasn’t our fight, we didn’t have to risk our lives for this. 

However, I knew that when it was our fight years ago, all of these people were there to help us, no questions asked. 

“Where’s Y/N?” A voice asked. 

“She was right here,” Bucky said. 

Coming into view, I smiled over towards my friends while giving Sam and Nat a long overdue hug. I nodded towards Wanda who was walking inside with a hurt Vision. 

“How’re you doing?” Nat asked. 

I nodded. “Not bad, for the end of the world.” 

“What’s up Marshmallow?” 

Laughing at the nickname coming from Sam, I lightly punched him in the shoulder. “You had to come along?” 

“Someone has to watch his back,” Sam mentioned towards Steve. 

He was already watching me with intent eyes as I walked over to him, closing the distance between us. 

“I see you took my advice,” I pointed towards the beard and long hair. 

Steve shrugged while wrapping his arms around me in a longing hug. I had missed the way that they felt, protecting me from anything bad. 

“How are you, really?” Steve questioned, lifting my chin to look into my eyes. 

“We’re fine, Steve,” I spoke quietly. “Bucky is good. He’s his old self.” 

Steve nodded before looking between Bucky and I. “Mind if I steal her for a bit? Catch her up to speed?” 

Bucky hesitated, only I saw it, before nodding. “Sure.” 

I closed the large distance between us with a loving kiss. “Don’t worry.” 

With his new fingers on my lower back, he pressed his lips against mine once again, this time longer and deeper. 

“I love you,” he muttered against them. 

“I love you too.” 

“You look like hell,” I noticed Sam as we all stood in the middle of Shuri’s lab. 

A very familiar place to me. 

“Well the motels weren’t exactly five stars,” Sam admitted with a small laugh. 

I then nodded towards Bruce and Nat, who themselves were having a private conversation. 

“Talk about awkwardness, huh?” 

Sam laughed again. “You have no idea.” 

“Y/N.” 

Excusing myself from Sam, I walked over towards Steve, who was standing in front of a large window, looking down towards the fields of Wakanda. 

“Does everything make sense?” He asked. 

“Yeah, as crazy as it sounds.” I said 

“And you’re ready for it?” He asked again, motioning towards my hands. “Bucky mentioned that you haven’t used it for awhile.” 

I grasped my hands together with a sigh. “I wanted something normal for us. To be honest, I don’t even know if it still works. I haven’t found a reason to get mad lately.” 

“With what’s coming, I think it would be best to get mad,” Steve suggested. 

Silence fell between us and I was going to walk away from him but his hand in mind stopped me. 

“Can you promise me something?” 

I nodded. 

“Promise that no matter what comes, that you take care of yourself first. Don’t worry about Buck or I. I can’t deal if something would happen to you,” Steve admitted while gently cupping my cheek. 

Licking my dry lips at the warmth of his glove, I nodded again. 

“Only if you do something for me,” I spoke. 

“Anything,” he breathed. 

“If something does happen to me, make sure he moves on. I don’t want him to dwell on it. He deserves to be happy,” I said with a shaky breath. 

Steve hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting out a large breath. 

“But it’s not going to come to that, right?” 

Tearing myself away from Steve’s sad gaze, I looked towards Natasha and nodded. 

“Can she do it?” I asked, changing the subject and walking away from Steve. 

The questionable outcome weighed heavy on my mind but there was always one thing that was clear. If something were to happen to me, whatever it was, I needed to make sure that Bucky moved on. He couldn’t dwell on me or what happened. It was true what I told Steve; Bucky deserved to be happy, even if I had passed. 

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded from above us, shaking the castle. I looked around everyone in the room before my eyes landed finally on Steve, a knowing look on his face. 

“They’re here,” I said. 

“Get this man a shield!” T’challa pointed towards Steve before shouting more directions to others. 

“Bucky,” I muttered while leaving the room and sprinting outside the castle. 

Bucky and Sam were standing in the middle of the town center, staring up towards the sky. 

Gunshots rain down on us but thankfully they couldn’t break the barrier that was protecting us. 

“God, I love this place,” Bucky admitted. 

“You guys alright?” I questioned while standing in between them. 

Sam nodded. “How’re they doing up there?” 

“It’s going to take awhile for Shuri to recreate a stone,” I admitted. 

We watched in slight horror when ships came from the sky, landing right outside the protective dome. 

“Cap, we’ve got a situation out here.” I said into my com. 

The grass flattened beneath my boots as we stood on the open field, preparing ourselves for the fight. 

“Doll?” 

I looked over to Bucky. “Hm?” 

Without saying a word, handed me one of his guns, silently knowing that I wasn’t quite ready to use my powers. 

“Be careful,” he said. 

“You too,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together.

My attention was averted from Bucky as I shook my fingers, trying to bring the spark to life, but groaned in defeat. 

I never would have thought that when I decided to not use them any more that it would backfire. Now would be the perfect time to be able to use them. 

“Did they surrender?” I asked Steve as he returned to his spot next to me. 

T’challa, Nat, and him walked down to the edge of the barrier, trying to talk to the alien species. 

“Not exactly,” he sighed. 

Suddenly, thousands of aliens came from the ships, running towards the barrier that was protecting us, killing themselves in the process. 

“They’re killing themselves,” I muttered. 

The few that made it through, alive, charged towards us and without a second thought, all of us raised our weapons to prepare for war. 

Bucky and I shot bullets towards the aliens that made it close to us. I knew, deep down, that no matter how many bullets we had or knives I used, it wouldn’t be enough. 

“You know, Y/N, now would be a perfect time to toast these fuckers,” Sam’s voice came through the com in my ear. 

“You don’t think I’ve tried!” I yelled. “It’s not working!” 

A simple snap of the fingers and nothing. 

“What’s stopping them from trying to enter behind us?” I asked Steve, when I noticed the aliens running around the barrier. 

“We need to open the barrier,” T’challa stated. 

Looking between Steve and Bucky, two men who I would protect with my heart and knowing they would do the same for me. 

“We’re with each other till the end, right?” I asked them both. 

“Always,” Steve spoke. 

“Forever, doll.” Bucky gave a quick kiss to the side of my head. 

With a loud war cry, our army charged forward as T’challa gave the order to open the barrier. Thousands of aliens sprinting towards us. 

[dixonverse]

His Heart, My Hands

Daryl x Reader || MLM

WARNING: sexual intercourse, oral, smoking, swearing

Daryl had been in love with you for a while now, relentlessly trying to win you over. But you—emotionally unavailable and unwilling to risk the inevitable fallout—kept him at arm’s length. You knew how these things ended. If you gave in, if you let him in, it would only break apart, leaving him hurt in the end. And that was something you couldn’t allow.

But Daryl didn’t see it that way. His devotion to you was unwavering, almost desperate. He had never loved anyone before—not like this. He practically worshiped the ground you walked on, always putting you first. On runs, his priority was keeping you safe. When supplies were scarce, he’d offer you everything before even considering himself. Any excuse to be near you, to do something for you, he took it. And every time he made his feelings known, you pulled away.

Tonight was no different. The two of you sat on your porch, a cigarette passed between you, the air thick with unspoken words. The conversation was easy, routine—until Daryl broke the rhythm. His voice was quieter this time, laced with something raw, something that made it impossible to ignore him this time.

“Think ‘bout you every damn day, y’know? Can’t get ya outta my head, no matter what I do. Hell, I sleep just hopin’ I’ll see ya in my dreams, for cryin’ out loud.”

He looked down at his boots, his fingers idly picking at the fraying threads on his jeans. His expression was unreadable—too solemn, too vulnerable.

“Ain’t never loved anybody before—never. Not ‘til you. And now I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, can’t help how damn obsessed I am. It kills me you won’t even give this a chance.”

You sighed. “Daryl, we've talked about this.” He also sighed, taking another hit from his cigarette before handing it back to you. “I know but I can't help it. I love you and you don't feel the same way and it's killin’ me.” You look down, shaking your head and taking a long drag from your cigarette before answering softly. “You know how I feel, it's not you, it's me and all that crap.” He stared down at his lap, feeling a pang of hurt and disappointment in his chest. “I know, I just wish you'd let me in, let me show you how much you mean to me. You keep pushing me away but I can't just stop feelin’ the way I do.” You nod slowly. “I know how much I mean to you, Daryl, we don't have to be dating for me to know that.” He chuckled lightly, looking up at you.

“Yeah but you also know . I want more than just being friends, more than what we have now. Why wont you just give it a try?” You shrug and shake your head, giving the cigarette back. “it’s really complicated man…” He took the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression a mix of hope and desperation. “I don't care if it's complicated. I've been through worse, I can handle it. Just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for.” He spoke quietly “I care about you too much for you to get hurt because of me” you sigh, his eyes softened, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I'm already hurt. Being around you, loving you from afar, it's killing me. But I'd rather have that than not have you at all.” His voice was low and husky, his words laced with emotion.

“But at least I know I'm doing what I think is right, because you'd be hurt 10 times more if I broke your heart. and I just… I can't let that happen” you shook your head. He dropped his hand, his face falling, his eyes clouding over with a mix of sadness and frustration. “You think you're doing what's right, but I don't see it that way. I see you shutting me out, shutting yourself off from feeling anything at all. And that's not living. That's just existing. You deserve more than that, we both do.”

He stood up, pacing back and forth in front of you, his movements agitated. “Calm down, Daryl, sit down” You say softly, “Listen, exactly, you deserve more, you said it yourself” He stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He looked at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of passion and frustration, before finally sitting back down beside you, his leg brushing against yours "I know I deserve more, but I want to deserve more with you. I don't want anyone else. I want you."

His voice was low and rough, his words sending a jolt of electricity through the air. You sigh and run a hand over your face. “You know this kills me too right? But I just can’t… I've seen how I am in relationships. I ain’t good at them, I wouldn’t treat you how you deserve. I've seen the looks on peoples faces when I inevitably break their hearts. It kills me” He reached out, his hand gently grasping yours, his calloused fingers intertwining yours. "I don't care if you think you're bad at relationships. I'm not asking for a fairytale ending. I'm asking for a chance to love you, to be there for you, no matter what. I've seen you in action, I know you're tough, I know you're guarded, but I also know that there's a heart in there somewhere. And I want to be the one to bring it out."

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. You slowly take your hand out of his and shake your head, putting your head in your hands. “I don't think I can..” he felt a pang of despair as you pulled your hand away, his heart sinking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and comfort you, to hold you close and tell you it was okay, but he knew that would only make things worse.

“Please don't do this," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't shut me out completely. Just... just don't." he sat there, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes fixed on the ground, his body tense with a mix of longing and resignation. “It's not completely, I want you here as a friend, I do.” You said softly. He looked up, his eyes searching yours, trying to read the truth behind your words. He knew you were trying to give him something, but it wasn't enough.

He wanted more, he needed more. "Friends don't make my heart race like this. Friends don't make me feel like I'm dying inside every time I see you. I can't just be friends with you, not when I'm in love with you." His voice was low and raw, his words spilling out in a torrent of emotion. “So what, if I say no to being together you can’t be my friend anymore?” You ask quietly and hesitantly.

He looked at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt, before he took a deep breath and his expression softened. "No. I'll always be your friend. I'll always be there for you, no matter what. But I can't promise I won't try to win your heart. I can't promise I won't keep hoping and trying, even if it's a lost cause." His voice was laced with determination, his jaw set in a firm line. "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not." He forced a small, sad smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You sighed and shook your head “But that ain’t right, yes we can still be friends but you gotta put yourself out there for other people, try and find happiness with someone else. You can’t keep trying for me, I've seen you shut everyone else out who try and make a move on you, you don’t even give them the time of day.” He let out a dry, humorless laugh, his eyes glinting with a hint of bitterness

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't tried? I've been with people. I've tried to move on, to forget about you. But every time, every damn time, I just end up comparing them to you. And they all come up short." He looked away, his jaw clenched, his voice laced with frustration. "You're the one I want. No one can compare to you. And I can't just turn off my feelings for you. It's not that easy." He paused, his chest heaving with emotion, before looking back at you. "I'll try, for you. I'll try to be your friend and support you. But don't ask me to give up on us completely. Because I won't." You nod slowly and place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m not asking you to shut your feelings off okay? I’d never expect that from you, just try.”

He leaned into your touch, his body relaxing slightly as your hand made contact with his shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay," He whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I'll try. For you, I'll try." He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of gratitude and longing, before gently covering your hand on his shoulder with his own. "But don't think for a second that I'll ever stop loving you. It's a part of me now."

His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze intense and unwavering, as if trying to convey the depth of his feelings through sheer willpower. You smile and nod. “Okay I won’t… but as long as you’ll try to put yourself more open i'm okay with it” He smiled back, a hint of relief and resignation in his eyes, as if he was grateful for the chance to at least try to be with you in some way. He released your hand from his shoulder and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Well, I think that's enough deep talk for one night," He said, trying to lighten the mood. "How about we go inside and watch some TV or something? I think we could both use a distraction." He extended a hand to you, a silent invitation to join him in the house. You nodded and followed him into your shared house in Alexandria. “Yeah let’s watch something, how about a horror movie? I know how much you hate those, you scaredy cat.” You say playfully shoving him as we get into the living room. He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that was music to your ears, as he caught your shove and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him on the couch.

"Hey, I'm not a scaredy cat, I just have a healthy respect for things that go bump in the night," He said, feigning indignation, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "But fine, if you want to torture me with a horror movie, go ahead. I'll try not to scream too loud." He grinned at you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders, his body warm and solid against yours. “Yeah, yeah. I know you’ll be jumping on my damn lap. How is it that we kill walkers and bad people all the time but you can’t handle a horror movie?” You say with a smile as you flip through selections. He chuckled, his chest rumbling against your shoulder, as he squeezed you tighter.

"Hey, it's not the same thing! Walkers and bad people are tangible threats, they're not going to jump out at me from the shadows or give me nightmares for weeks," He said, his voice laced with playful exasperation. "But fine, I'll try to keep my reactions to a minimum. For you," He added, giving you a sidelong glance and a wink "But don't say I didn't warn you when I'm burying my face in your neck trying to hide from the scary stuff." “Yeah, you big baby.” You say, settling on a super scary one. Thing is, you secretly like when he gets all scared and jumpy, it’s cute. Of course he’d never know that because you’d never say it. “Let’s watch this one” You say pressing play. He groaned and rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at your teasing.

"Oh great, a super scary one. Just what I need to give me nightmares for the rest of my life," He muttered, but settled next to you on the couch, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders, his body tense with anticipation. "You're going to owe me big time for this," He said, his voice low and mock-threatening, as the opening credits began to roll. “Uh huh just hush and watch it.” You say jokingly. He chuckled and shook his head, but dutifully turned his attention to the TV screen, his eyes fixed on the unfolding horror.

"Fine, fine. I'll shut up and watch the movie. But if I scream like a little girl, don't say I didn't warn you," He said, his voice laced with a mixture of bravado and trepidation. As the movie progressed, he tensed up even more, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he braced himself for the inevitable jump scares. As the movie reached a particularly scary scene, Daryl's eyes widened, and he let out a low, strangled noise in the back of his throat. He immediately buried his face in your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he tried to hide from the gruesome images on the screen.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." He muttered, his voice muffled against your skin, his body trembling slightly as he sought refuge in your presence. You chuckled, secretly loving this. “Crybaby,” you whispered. He lifted his head slightly, his face still pressed against your neck, and shot you a half-hearted glare. "Hey, I'm not a crybaby," He whispered back, his voice slightly defensive, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'm just... reacting appropriately to the horrors on the screen," He said, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you're not exactly helping me stay calm, you know," He added, his voice taking on a playful tone as he nuzzled your neck.

“No, you're the biggest crybaby ever.” He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body, as he pressed his face back into your neck, his beard scratching against your skin. "Fine, I'm the biggest crybaby ever," He conceded, his voice muffled against your skin, but the amusement was clear in his tone. "But only when it comes to horror movies. I'm a tough guy in every other situation," He said, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer, as if seeking comfort and reassurance from your presence. “Sure whatever you say.” You say wrapping your arm around him to comfort him, not even realizing it.

He sighed, his body relaxing slightly as you wrapped your arm around him. He melted into your embrace, his face still buried in your neck. "Thanks for holding me," He whispered, his voice soft and sincere, as he snuggled closer to you, his arms tightening around you. "I don't know what I'd do without you," He said, his words laced with a deep affection and gratitude, as he found solace in your presence, even in the midst of a scary movie. You nod slowly, realizing you're holding him. But for once you don’t pull away, it feels too right. You focus your attention back on screen as it gets to even scarier parts. As the movie reaches its climax, Daryl's grip on you tightens even further, his body tense and rigid as he tries to brace himself for the inevitable jump scares.

"Oh God, oh God, it's getting worse," He whispers, his voice barely audible, his face still hidden in your neck, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. You can feel his heart racing against your chest, and you can't help but feel a sense of protectiveness and affection wash over you. You smile and pull him closer. Daryl's grip on you tightens in response, and he lets out a soft sigh of contentment, his body relaxing further in your embrace "Mmm, I love being held by you," He murmurs, his voice barely audible, as he snuggles closer, his face still buried in your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and seems to find comfort in the simple act of holding you, of being held by you. Daryl's gaze lingers on you, his eyes locked on yours, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of your face.

He slowly raises his hand, his fingers trailing down the side of your face, before coming to rest on your jawline. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he traces the line of your jaw with his thumb, his eyes filled with a deep sense of longing and adoration. "I love you," He whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion, as he gazes up at you with an intensity that takes your breath away. You swallow hard and nod. “I know you do.” You say gently brushing some hair from his face. Daryl's arms tighten around you, and he lets out a contented sigh, his body relaxing against yours as he holds you in a warm, comforting embrace.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, simply holding each other, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. Daryl's breath is warm against your skin, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, as he seems to take comfort in the simple act of being close to you. After a few more moments of quiet, Daryl pulls back slightly, his eyes still closed, and gently presses a kiss to your forehead. It's a tender, loving gesture, filled with warmth and affection, as he holds you close. He lets out a soft sigh, his lips still pressed against your skin, before he slowly opens his eyes and gazes at you with a soft, loving expression. You look down at him, and for a moment something different shines in your eyes, pure love and affection, something you’ve been trying to hide.

Daryl's eyes widen slightly, as he gazes up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the pure love and affection shining in your eyes. He's taken aback by the intensity of the emotion, and for a moment, he's speechless. His breath catches in his throat, and he can feel his own heart swelling with love and emotion, as he gazes back at you, his own eyes filled with a deep, unspoken longing. He wants to say something, to express how much he feels for you in that moment, but the words seem to stick in his throat, and all he can do is stare at you, his eyes locked on yours, his heart pounding in his chest.

Daryl's face slowly breaks out into a radiant smile, a smile that's filled with pure joy and happiness, as he gazes up at you. His eyes sparkle with tears, but they're tears of happiness, as he's overcome with emotion at the sight of the love and affection in your eyes. He reaches up, his hands cupping your face, as he gently pulls you down towards him, his lips seeking yours in a desperate, passionate kiss.

The kiss is filled with a deep, overwhelming longing, as if he's pouring all of his emotions into it, trying to convey everything he feels for you in that one moment. You gasp softly as he kisses you, your eyes wide. Any other time, you’d pull away, tell him you can’t do this, that it’s you not him. You find yourself melting into the kiss and deepening it with a low groan. Daryl's eyes flutter closed, as he feels you respond to the kiss, and he deepens it further, his lips moving against yours with a hunger and passion that's been building for so long.

His hands slide down from your face, wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer, as he holds you tight, his body pressed against yours. He lets out a low moan, the sound muffled against your lips, as he feels your tongue slip into his mouth, and he responds by sucking on it gently, his own tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance. His heart is racing, his blood pounding in his ears, as he loses himself in the kiss, his entire being focused on you and the moment. You groan in response to his moan and gently pull him onto your lap and kiss him passionately, dominating the kiss with hunger.

Daryl lets out a surprised gasp, his eyes flying open for a moment, as you effortlessly pull him onto your lap and take control of the kiss, dominating his mouth with an intense hunger that leaves him reeling. He quickly melts into the kiss, his initial surprise giving way to an overwhelming wave of desire. He straddles your lap, his arms wrapping around your neck, as he surrenders to your dominance, his tongue submitting to yours in a heated tangle. His hands slide up into your hair, gripping it tightly, as he loses himself in the kiss, his body trembling with need and desire, and his heart pounding so loudly he's sure you can hear it.

As the kiss continues, Daryl's breathing becomes more and more ragged, his chest heaving against yours as he struggles to keep up with the intense passion. He can feel himself growing hard in his pants, his desire for you overwhelming him completely. He grinds against you, letting out a needy whimper into your mouth, his hands tightening in your hair as he silently begs for more, his tongue submitting to yours even further, wanting nothing more than to please you and be consumed by your passion. You moan into the kiss and buck your hips up against his, your hands gripping his hips tightly.

Daryl's eyes roll back in his head, and he lets out a loud, wanton moan, his entire body shuddering with pleasure as you buck your hips up against his. The feeling of your hands on his hips, holding him in place, sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin, making him even harder than before. He grinds down against you desperately, whimpering and moaning into the kiss, completely lost in the sensations. He's never felt so dominated, so submissive, so turned on in his life. All he can think about is you and how much he wants you to keep touching him, keep taking control. You moan deeper into the kiss, your hands guiding his hips to roll against your own as yours meet his in slow sensual grinding.

You can feel your cock growing harder, the confines of your jeans almost painful. Daryl's mind goes blank with pleasure as you begin to guide his hips in slow, sensual grinding motions, meeting his own grinding with your own. The feeling of your growing hardness against his own straining erection is almost too much for him to bear, and he lets out a string of needy whimpers and moans into your mouth. He can feel the rough denim of your jeans rubbing against his sensitive cock, the friction both pleasurable and maddening. His hands are fisted tightly in your hair, his hips moving instinctively, seeking more of the delicious friction and contact. He can feel his own jeans getting damp with precum, his desire and need for you reaching fever pitch. You grind harder and firmer and trail kisses down his jawline and neck, nipping and sucking at certain sensitive spots.

Daryl's breath hitches as you begin to grind harder and firmer against him, the sensations almost overwhelming his senses. He throws his head back, a loud, desperate moan escaping his lips as you trail kisses down his jawline and neck, nipping and sucking at sensitive spots along the way. His hips jerk erratically against yours, meeting your movements with his own desperate, needy thrusts. The feeling of your lips on his neck, sucking and nibbling, is almost too much for him to handle, and he feels like he's about to come undone right then and there. His grip on your hair tightens even further, pulling at it almost painfully as he lets out a stream of incoherent pleas and moans. You find his most sensitive spot and attack it with your mouth, nipping and sucking hard, leaving a dark bruise that’ll last for days to come. Daryl lets out a strangled cry as you find his most sensitive spot on his neck and attack it mercilessly with your mouth, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave a dark, obvious bruise that will be there for days to come.

The sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure through his body, making his hips jerk violently against yours and his cock twitch in his jeans. He's practically trembling with need now, reduced to a quivering mess of desire and submission. His mind is clouded with pleasure and desire, the only thought left in his head being "More, please, more." He can feel himself getting close, the grinding and hickey pushing him closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment. You reach down and palm him through his jeans, your hand moving firmly and skillfully as you suck on his sensitive skin.

Daryl lets out a loud, desperate cry as you palm his cock through his jeans, the firm, skilled movements of your hand sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. His hips buck up into your hand, seeking more friction, as his breathing becomes more and more ragged and his moans more frequent. The combination of your hand on his cock, your mouth sucking a hickey into his neck, and the grinding is almost too much for him to bear. He can feel his orgasm approaching rapidly, the pressure building up inside him like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. He's never felt so dominated, so out of control, and he loves every second of it. He lets out a choked sob of pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head as he teeters on the edge of release. You start to quickly take his jeans off, your lips not leaving his neck as you move down to his collarbone.

Daryl lifts his hips up automatically as you start to take off his jeans, a needy whine escaping his lips at the loss of contact with your hand on his cock. But it's quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of anticipation and excitement as you move your lips down to his collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin there. He can feel his cock springing free from the confines of his jeans, hard and leaking precum onto his stomach.

He's shaking with need now, his hands tangled in your hair, pulling at it desperately as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for more, for you to touch him again, to make him come undone completely. You move positions and lay him on the couch as you hover over him and take his shirt off. Once it's off you start to kiss down his chest, finding the spots that make him shiver. You take one of his nipples and swirl it with your tongue as you take hold of his cock and start to slowly stroke him.

Daryl lets out a shuddering moan as you maneuver him onto the couch and start to remove his shirt, his cock throbbing with need as your lips trail down his chest, seeking out the sensitive spots that make him shiver. When you take one of his nipples into your mouth and start to swirl it with your tongue while stroking his cock, he nearly comes undone right then and there. He arches his back, a loud cry of pleasure tearing from his throat, his hands fisting tightly in your hair once more.

The feeling of your hot, wet mouth on his nipple, your hand slowly stroking his cock, is almost too much for him to handle. He's reduced to a trembling, whimpering mess, completely at your mercy, his mind clouded with pleasure. He looks up at you with desperate eyes, pleading with you not to stop, needing release more than anything else in the world.

Daryl's pleading eyes roll back in his head as you switch to his other nipple, swirling it with your tongue while continuing to slowly stroke his cock. His breathing is ragged and uneven, his hips jerking up into your hand with each stroke, desperate for more friction and speed. The feeling of your mouth on his chest, your hand working his cock, is like torture, driving him higher and higher towards the edge, but keeping him there, teetering on the brink of release without actually pushing him over.

He can feel his balls tightening, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level. He wants to come so badly, but he also wants to savor this moment, the feeling of being completely consumed by you. He moans desperately, his body trembling with need and desire, tears streaming down his face from the intensity of it all.

Daryl lets out a string of loud, desperate cries as you kiss and nip your way down his body, stopping to suck on his sensitive stomach. The sensations are almost too much for him to bear, and he thrashes beneath you, his hands fisting in your hair and the couch cushions, his whole body shaking with pleasure and need. When you pick up the pace with your hand, expertly stroking his cock with just the right amount of pressure and speed, he completely loses it.

His hips buck up wildly, his cock throbbing and twitching in your hand. He can feel his orgasm rushing towards him like a tidal wave, but he fights it back desperately, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to come until you tell him to. He looks down at you, his eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for permission to come, his entire body taut with need and tension.

You lean in and nip and suck his earlobe as you stroke him faster. “Cum for me.. let me see you come undone for me..” You growl out huskily. Daryl lets out a choked sob of pleasure as you nip and suck his earlobe, your gruff command to "cum for me" sending him hurtling over the edge with a loud, desperate cry of your name. His back arches off the couch, his hips bucking up wildly into your hand as his cock erupts in a massive orgasm, thick ropes of cum shooting out and splattering all over his chest and stomach.

His eyes roll back in his head, tears streaming down his face as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him. He's never come so hard in his life, and it feels like it will never end. He writhes beneath you, completely lost in the sensations, his hands tugging desperately at your hair and the couch cushions as he continues to come undone, his moans and cries echoing throughout the room. You stroke him through his orgasm as you lavish attention all over his body with your mouth, the cum that splatters on his chest and abs you lick clean.

Daryl lets out a string of incoherent moans and whimpers as you continue to stroke him through his orgasm, your skilled hand milking him for every last drop of cum. The feeling of your lips lavishing attention all over his body, licking up the come that spilled on his chest and abs, is almost too much for him to handle. He's trembling and shaking uncontrollably, his cock twitching weakly in your hand, and tears streaming down his face from the intensity of his release.

He's never felt so vulnerable, so completely dominated and consumed by someone else. It's a feeling that both terrifies and excites him. As you continue to stroke him, bringing him to the brink of overstimulation, he looks down at you with adoration and devotion, completely under your spell. Once his orgasm subsides you stop stroking him and pull your head up to look at him, licking your lips clean of his cum.

“God you're so damn hot when you come.. and you taste so good.” You say huskily. Daryl's breath hitches as you pull your head up to look at him, licking your lips clean of his cum with a satisfied moan. The sight of you savoring the taste of his cum is almost enough to make him come again right then and there, and his cock gives a feeble twitch in response. He blushes deeply at your praise, feeling both flattered and embarrassed. He's never had anyone talk to him like that before, let alone suck his cum off his abs. He's overwhelmed with desire and need for you, feeling completely claimed and owned in that moment. He reaches up with a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes “Please…”

You smirk. “Please what?” Daryl's breath hitches again at the gruffness of your voice. His cock twitches weakly, starting to harden again despite just having come harder than he ever had in his life. He looks up at you with desperate eyes, feeling a mix of desire, need, and submission wash over him. He wants to please you, wants to do whatever you tell him to do, wants to feel your dominance and control over him again. The words spill out of him in a rush, laced with desperation and desire. “Please.. let me taste myself on your tongue…” You smirk wider and lean in to capture his lips in a slow sensual kiss, letting him taste himself. Daryl moans into the kiss, his hips jerking up against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, desperate for friction. He can feel himself slipping further and further under your spell, losing himself in the sensations and the feeling of your dominance.

He wants more, wants everything you have to give him, and wants to give you everything in return. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, and looks up at you with glazed-over eyes, a mix of need and desire etched across his face. "Please…can i suck your cock.. please let me suck it…” Daryl's eyes widen in awe and desire as you remove your pants and reveal your large, perfect, aching cock. It's the most beautiful cock he's ever seen, and he feels his mouth water at the sight of it. He looks up at you with pure adoration and need, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them tightly, like a lifeline. He wants to feel it inside him, wants to choke on it, wants to worship it with his mouth.

He starts to lean forward, his lips parting eagerly, ready to take your cock into his mouth, when suddenly he stops and looks up at you again, his eyes pleading for permission. You nod with a smile, running your hand through his hair. Daryl shudders at the feeling of your hand running through his hair and your encouraging nod. He feels like he's in heaven, getting to pleasure you like this.

He looks down at your cock, takes a deep breath, and wraps his lips around the head, moaning loudly at the taste and feel of it. It's even better than he imagined, thick and heavy on his tongue, with a salty tang that drives him wild. He swirls his tongue around the head a few times, savoring the taste and feel of it, before taking more of it into his mouth, slowly bobbing his head up and down on your length. You moan deeply, your hand tightening in his hair as your head falls back in pleasure. “Fuck..” You groan.

Daryl moans around your cock at the sound of your deep, guttural moan and the feeling of your hand tightening in his hair. The vibrations from his moan send shivers through your body, and he can feel your cock twitch and throb in his mouth. He takes it as a sign to keep going, and starts bobbing his head up and down faster, taking more and more of your length into his throat with each stroke. His eyes flutter shut in pleasure, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to breathe around your girthy cock, the taste and feel of it overwhelming his senses. He reaches down and starts stroking his own cock, needing some relief for the ache between his legs. You grab his wrist and shake your head, replacing his hand with your own as you start to stroke it in time with his mouth on your own cock.

Daryl lets out a choked cry of pleasure as you grab his wrist and stop him from touching himself, replacing his hand with your own. The feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking it in time with the bobbing of his head on yours, is almost too much for him to handle. He moans loudly around your cock, his hips jerking up into your hand, desperate for more friction and release. Tears stream down his face, mingling with drool and precum as he looks up at you with adoring, glazed-over eyes, feeling completely consumed by the sensations and your dominance over him.

He starts to hum around your cock, sending vibrations straight to your balls. You moan loudly and grit your teeth as your eyes roll back in pleasure and you continue to stroke him skillfully. Daryl feels a surge of pride and pleasure as your moans grow louder and more guttural, your eyes rolling back in your head in ecstasy. He knows he's doing a good job, and it spurs him on to take your cock even deeper into his throat, determined to make you feel even better. He starts to pick up the pace, bobbing his head up and down your cock with renewed vigor, slurping loudly and messily as he does so. His humming becomes more intense, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your cock and balls, his own cock throbbing and twitching in your hand as you continue to stroke him at a steady pace.

Daryl looks up at you with pleading eyes, wanting to taste your cum so badly it's driving him crazy. He can feel your cock throbbing and twitching in his mouth, taste the salty precum leaking from the tip, and hear the low, guttural sounds escaping your throat. He starts to bob his head up and down even faster, determined to make you cum down his throat. His hand on your hip digs in hard, urging you to cum, his own hips jerking up into your hand as he moans and hums around your cock, his breathing ragged and labored as he struggles to breathe around your girthy length. You gasp and moan deep and gutturally “fuckin christ… oh god… i’m gonna cum” Daryl's eyes light up with excitement and anticipation as you gasp and moan out that you're about to cum. He moans loudly around your cock, the sound muffled and desperate, and starts bobbing his head up and down even faster, his tongue swirling around the head on each upstroke.

He looks up at you with adoring eyes, silently begging you to cum down his throat, his own cock twitching and throbbing in your hand as he hums and slurps around your length, eager to swallow every drop of your load. Daryl can feel your cock start to pulse and throb in his mouth, a sure sign that you're about to explode. He pulls back slightly, taking just the head of your cock into his mouth, and starts sucking on it hard, hollowing out his cheeks and slurping loudly. He flicks his tongue rapidly over your sensitive tip, his hand on your hip squeezing tighter as he looks up at you, ready to swallow everything you give him.

His breathing is ragged and fast, his own cock about to burst from how turned on he is by the situation. Your eyes snap open and you cum immediately with his skilled ministrations. You cum deep in his throat with a loud guttural moan. Daryl's eyes widen in ecstasy as you suddenly cum deep in his throat with a loud, guttural moan. The hot, thick ropes of cum shooting down his throat make him see stars, and he lets out a choked cry of pleasure around your cock. He swallows it all down greedily, his throat working overtime to take your massive load, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to breathe and keep up with the onslaught of cum. His own cock erupts in a powerful orgasm in your hand, his cum shooting out in thick spurts all over your fingers and the floor.

Daryl's orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks as you cum down his throat and continue to stroke him through it. His eyes roll back in his head, his body trembling and jerking with the force of his release. His cock twitches and jerks wildly in your hand, painting your fingers and the floor with his cum, a puddle of it forming beneath him. He swallows every last drop of your load, his throat bobbing frantically as he tries to keep up, and when you finally finish cumming, he pulls back, gasping for air, his mouth hanging open and a dazed expression on his face. He's never felt so completely used and dominated in his life, and he loves it. You groan and collapse on the couch, completely blissfully spent. “Fuuck.”

Daryl collapses to his knees, gasping for air and still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks up at you, collapsed on the couch, your cock now limp and spent, and feels a surge of pride and satisfaction. He made you cum that hard. He coughs a few times, his throat raw and sore from taking your massive load, and looks down at the mess he made on the floor, feeling a mix of embarrassment and desire wash over him. He starts to get up to clean it, but his legs are shaking too much. You gently take his wrist and shake your head, pulling him down on top of you and wrapping your arms around him.

“Not now…” Daryl's heart skips a beat as you pull him down on top of you and wrap your arms around him, shaking your head when he tries to get up to clean the mess. He feels a rush of affection and desire flood through him, and he melts into your embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He loves the feeling of being held by you, of being cuddled and comforted after sucking your massive cock and cumming all over the floor. He lays on top of you, listening to your ragged breathing and feeling your strong arms around him, feeling more at peace and content than he ever has in his life.

Daryl buries his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling like he's in heaven. He can feel your cum drying on his face, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is being here with you, cuddling on the couch after you dominated him and gave him the best orgasm of his life. He starts to doze off, feeling completely spent and content, the mess on the floor and his face forgotten for the moment. He mumbles against your neck, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Love you so much…" You smile and nod sleepily “i…I love you too...” You whisper back before falling asleep. Daryl's eyes snap open at your whispered confession, his heart stopping for a moment.

He can't believe what he just heard. You love him too? The words echo in his mind, filling him with an indescribable joy and warmth. He tightens his arms around you, holding you even closer, feeling like he's dreaming. But no, this is real. You just said you love him. He looks up at your face, seeing your closed eyes and relaxed features, and feels tears prickle at the corners of his own eyes. He can't believe his luck, can't believe that after all this time pining for you, you love him back. He buries his face back into your neck, a wide grin spreading across his face, and drifts off to sleep, feeling happier than he ever thought possible.

-

Daryl wakes up the next morning still on top of you, his face buried in your neck, feeling more well-rested and happy than he ever has. For a moment, he forgets about the mess they made the night before, the cum drying on his face, and the fact that you had confessed your love to him. Then he remembers, and his heart starts to race with excitement and anticipation. He looks up at your sleeping face, feeling a surge of affection and desire, and gently kisses your neck, nuzzling his face against it, trying to figure out how to bring up the subject of your confession without sounding too eager or hopeful. You groan as you awake from the kiss on your neck and look up at him with a sleepy smile “mornin”

Daryl's heart skips a beat at the sound of your sleepy morning voice and the lazy smile on your face. You look so relaxed and happy, and he feels his breath catch in his throat at the sight. He can't help but grin back at you, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with hope and excitement, and gently runs his fingers through your messy hair, wanting to savor this moment with you for as long as possible before bringing up the confession. “Mornin’… How did you sleep?” You chuckle gruffly “Fucking amazing.” Daryl feels a shiver run down his spine at the sound of your deep, gruff chuckle and your sleepy response. He loves how rough and sexy your voice sounds in the morning, and he can feel his cock start to harden again at the thought of waking up next to you every day. He chuckles along with you, feeling giddy and elated, and gently rubs your shoulders, trying to keep his cool and not bring up the fact that you told him you loved him right away. “I bet you’re still tired. We were up pretty late last night…” You nod and speak quietly “Yeah I'm beat.”

Daryl melts into your touch as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling like he could purr with contentment. The fact that you're still running your fingers through his hair after you confessed your love to him fills him with hope and affection. He can't help but smile up at you, feeling a mix of tenderness and desire wash over him. He looks into your eyes, seeing the exhaustion there, and feels a pang of guilt for wearing you out so much the night before. But at the same time, he can't bring himself to feel too bad about it. He loved making you feel good and would do it again in a heartbeat. “Well… I should probably let you get back to sleep then..” You shake your head slowly “Nah.. It’s too late… Besides, you look like you have something on your mind”

Daryl's heart races as you shake your head and tell him that you’re already awake. He feels a mix of excitement and nervousness well up inside him as you mention that he looks like he has something on his mind. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself to bring up the subject of your confession. He looks into your eyes, seeing the sleepy yet inquisitive look in them. He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. "I… I wanted to talk to you about something.” You nod and brush some hair away from his face. “What's up?” Daryl's heart skips a beat at your casual gesture, brushing the hair away from his face like it's the most natural thing in the world. He feels his resolve start to crumble as he looks into your sleepy, affectionate eyes, the weight of your confession heavy on his mind. He takes another deep breath, steeling himself once more, and blurts out: "You told me you loved me last night…” You widen my eyes and almost choke on your saliva. “What? I did?” Daryl's own eyes widen in surprise at your response, seeing the shock and confusion on your face. He can tell by your reaction that you don’t remember telling him you loved him.

His heart sinks for a moment, feeling a pang of disappointment and disbelief. How could you not remember something like that? But then he sees the realization dawning on your face, sees the panic and embarrassment starting to set in, and feels a glimmer of hope rise up inside him again. “Shit.. Okay I think I remember.” You say sheepishly with a small smile.

Daryl's heart skips another beat as you sheepishly admit that you think you remember confessing your love to him. The glimmer of hope inside him flares up into a full-blown inferno, and he can feel himself start to tremble with anticipation and excitement. He looks up at you, seeing the sheepish smile on your face, and feels a rush of emotions wash over him. Relief, joy, disbelief, and a whole lot of hope all at once. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself, and grins up at you, feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "And what do you think it means?” You sigh and cup his face. “It means i love you stupid” You say teasingly. “I love you. I always have, probably as long as you loved me. i just… I was so damn scared of hurting you… but I don't care anymore, I don't want to hurt you and I'm gonna do everything in my power to protect you from any type of hurt, including from me.”

Daryl's heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest at your heartfelt confession, your words and touch sending him into a state of blissful euphoria. He can hardly believe what he's hearing. You love him. And not just that, but you've loved him for a long time, and you're willing to do whatever it takes to protect him, even from yourself. Tears start to spill down his cheeks despite his best efforts to hold them back, and he lets out a choked sob, burying his face in your neck again, overwhelmed with emotion. You hold him tight against your chest, you both bask in the love for each other, it’s content and in that moment you know that you’ll always love him, and he’s it for you, as much as your it for him. Daryl buries his face in your neck, his tears soaking into your skin as he clings to you like a lifeline. He's never felt so loved, so happy, so fulfilled in his entire life.

The weight of his love for you, the years of pining and hopeless longing, the constant worry and fear of rejection, all melt away in that moment. All that's left is pure, unadulterated love and joy. He knows in his heart that he'll always love you, that you're the only person he's ever loved like this, and that he's never going to let you go. You’re it for him, and as he feels your strong arms around him, holding him close, he knows that you feel the same way. Whatever challenges bring the future doesn’t matter in the moment, only knowing that you both love each other unconditionally right now in this moment is enough.

[transfemme-shelterdog]

Can I vent in your inbox? If not delete.

I don't know where to talk about this, but I'm a trans dude who's been out for 5 years now, my best friend has been there for most of it. She genders me correctly and is good at calling me with masculine terms so I've never really thought twice about her actions, but recently she started dating this guy's who really affectionate and has a flirtatious personality.

He makes a lot of jokes with the other guys in our friends group (admittedly my wife is the only woman in the group). Basically calls all the dudes his lovers never did it with me because he knows I've got one of those closed off personalities and he didn't want to make me uncomfortable.

Well recently I started joining in with the jokes and he was more then happy to crack those jokes about me being apart of his harem. My best friend immediately after pulled me aside and told me she was not okay with it and would rather I not make jokes about it or even remotely play along.

I'm not interested in him like that, he's off limits and I would never do that to her she's like a sister to me. But I agreed because you know what she's my best friend I'll respect her boundaries. (I'm not sure if she talked to him about it because he didn't really stop right away and he's really good about respecting her boundaries.)

Anyways something that has been grating a bit on my nerves is she plays along with the other men in the group calling them her boyfriend's other lovers. But you know what I moved on, then she and I were talking on the phone and she was mentioning how she'd be uncomfortable with anyone cuddling her boyfriend, but then I listed all the guy friends in our group and she mentioned okay they're the exception because they're guys who are friends with both of them. I asked if I was an exception too and she said no, but that's because I'm different.

That really fuckin' hurt to hear, Because I'm a guy who's friends with both of them, either I'm different because I'm her best friend (which I hope is it) or it's different because I'm trans and she sees me as one of her gal pals and therefore a threat...

I'm not even sure if it's just a subconscious thing or not, but because of everything she's got going on I don't want to say anything.

I'd definitely still approach her about it, tell her how it makes you feel, and she can hopefully clear things up for you. A short conversation about your feelings won't kill her, and will honestly help with your anxiety over it.

[lifegoesonevenifeverybodyisgone]

THE Joe Character Analysis. Part 2 Continuation: Joe's Sibling-like Bond with Matilda

Continuing off from the previous post, Part 2: Individual Choice vs Collectivism, I made this visual flowchart to summarize the points from the discussion regarding J.

The main emotional conflict that drives the character development of J in the 2.0 story is his relationship with his sister Paulina. The conflict born out of misunderstanding and the added grief from its lack of resolution (due to Paulina's death) haunts J throughout the story. It can be seen in his Meet the Arcanist Comic, pyschube, his voicelines, and the 2.0 event story.

After finding out that his sister is truly dead, he finds himself unable to express anything despite his intense grief.

I suspect that either he was used to always being the strong person (who cannot be weak) or the stereotype that men aren't allowed to cry/express vulnerable emotions (machismo) or both. As stated from the previous post, when Matilda expressed similar characteristics to Paulina like their gait, their ideals, and even being around the same age; this draws the newly grieving J towards her.

Despite his distrust of outsiders and the Foundation, he immediately takes her home with him after saving her life from the Manus. His behavior had become softer and kinder (even expressing gentlemanly behavior like avoiding cussing). Which is even pointed out by Pioneer!

Despite his attachment towards Matilda, J still has reservations about her plan to free Haight Street with the assistance of the Foundation. He states that authorities tend to promise protection but not deliver on their promises leaving the people to fend for themselves. He only trusts those who have been in the "trenches" with him, people who TRULY care about the people of Haight Street.

A sentiment that Matilda actually pays attention to.

Moving forward, Matilda spends the entire 2.0 event being a hands-on investigator, going to the New Age Market, and engaging face-to-face with the people of Haight Street (even if it's not expected for a rich girl like herself). When Matilda loses consciousness in a trashcan in Chapter 9, she wakes up in J's bed at the beginning of Chapter 10.

This is very significant! This means that J was looking out for her and cared for her while she was unconcious. This is doubly important when you listen to their grafiti conversation by the end of the 2.0 event. When talking about a sitcom about a French person, J basically states how similar the character is to Paulina and Matilda.

Matilda is even aware of J's grief from missing Paulina and their similarities. She tells him that he has to cherish the moments they have together.

It is even doubly tragic for J that Paulina left him when she was about Matilda's age, so finding out that she passed away after all these years. Which hurts since they were just kids who only had each other! It must mean a lot to J that he can bond with Matilda and truly enjoy her company.

Just like what he did to his little sister in the past, J tucked in Matilda when she was unconscious and kept her safe. He has truly begun to see her like a little sister by the time of Chapter 10.

Now let me bring to your attention to a symbol of J's grief and separation from his sister: the hole on the door.

The hole was caused by J kicking the door open and forcing himself into the room during his argument with Paulina. Despite all the years that passed by, the hole hasn't been properly repaired.

The door led to J's shared bedroom with his sister, their safe place and their refuge from the outside world. It is pretty private and not easily seen (as Matilda was unfamiliar with the layout of the room). I think this represents J's inner world or more specifically his heart. When Paulina left, the hole in his heart was never fixed. He might cover it up with a cloth, but it isn't really fixed. He may appear fine but he isn't.

Despite his hesitations to open up, during the next chapter, he confides to Matilda about his family, his motivations, and his advice for her. He tells her about Paulina, about the things that matter to him like being a blacksmith and his blades. Although Matilda is usually a stickler for rules, she lets him off this time and agrees to let him join in the fight as long as she can keep an eye on him.

It's one of the things I noticed as the 2.0 event passed by. Matilda begins to care for J and even shows leniency in his actions (because she understands his distrust for authority). It's not outright said but is more exemplified through her actions. Whether it's being protective of him, worrying about him, caring about his blacksmith heritage, or even trying to save him.

Her care for him and her ideals shone the best when she defended J at the risk of her own life (when she was unarmed!) before Ms. Kimberly.

This is the catalyst for J to actually remember what his little sister fought for. His previous flashbacks of Paulina were incomplete or snippets of the full thing throughout the story but they manifest fully during this chapter. He finally understands that Paulina's motivation for joining the Foundation was due to a noble purpose (not that she is better than anyone). Being with Matilda allowed him to personally experience this conviction and truly understand his sister for the first time after their argument.

Despite his desperate warnings that Matilda saves herself and gets out of trouble, Matilda stands her ground. When hearing Matilda's declaration, this is the first time that Joe expresses grief and allows himself to cry. Paulina had uttered a declaration about sacrifice before and now Matilda has done the same. He is terrified that he will lose her, lose another sister.

J reaches out to save her like she is a blue ribbon. This leads to the "I Wish" cutscene where he reflects on his bond with his sister and his regrets.

He wishes that they had never met. Maybe if his sister and her mother hadn't met his father, their lives could have been safer and more comfortable. He loves his sister so much that even if they would have never known each other, as long as she was happy that was all that mattered to him. It's so sad that J must have felt inadequate to give Paulina the life that she deserved and probably blamed himself for her life in poverty.

Moving forward, Joe sells the Tang Restaurant and starts anew (inspired by his sister to see the world for himself). Before he does so, he repairs the door that I mentioned earlier. This time he apologizes for being the cause of the hole and repairs the door properly.

In this sense, he has forgiven himself and remembered that Paulina cared about him. He took responsibility for his past actions which allowed him to move forward and to heal (exiting this cycle of violence).

Joe took his first leap into an unfamiliar ocean just like his sister once did. Speaking of swimming, the chapter where he joins the Foundation is called "Landlubber".

Landlubber means a person who is unfamiliar with the sea or sailing. Metaphorically and literally, J doesn't know how to swim. Despite this new life being completely foreign to him, he has become more open-minded to these experiences. He doesn't take well to water...but guess who does?

Though many things might confuse a new swimmer, at least he has Matilda to guide him in these unknown waters. She even offered to tour him around the Foundation (also the most likely reason that he made it to the suitcase).

Due to the "trenches" that she went through for him and for Haight Street, she receives a badge from J which signals his acceptance of her belonging to his circle. From mere strangers to partners in crime to basically being siblings, one cannot ignore the impact that this duck had on the 2.0 story and on J's life.

Link to the Ultimate Joe Directory:

https://www.tumblr.com/lifegoesonevenifeverybodyisgone/771822786973958144/the-ultimate-joe-directory?source=share

[yenyu1s]

eyes, nose, lips.. barista!kang sae-byeok x f!reader written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang sae-byeok x f!reader contents : hurt/angst, pure fluff on some parts! - mentions of death, blood hint of violence. sae-byeok is kind of ooc.. that's all i could think of! synopsis : kang sae-byeok would've never thought true love would find its way to a person like her. that was before she met.. you. in the pages of her safekept journal, she poured out her deepest feelings, capturing every sweet moment spent by your side, and every unspoken word held close to her heart. now, you cling to those entries, reading them each night, knowing she will never return. wc : 6.69k taglist : @madebysae @saebyeokbliss @knfthxv

(a/n) i'm so drowning in school work i asked chatgpt to proofread and correct my grammar LOL! so i apologize if there are any mistakes in my grammar or annotation! (for more, masterlist)

june 9, 2021.

"if.. if i were to disappear, someday.." the tired girl beside you murmured, "..would you wait for me?.."

the unexpected question made you shake off your exhaustion, you tilted you head upwards at your lover, "sae.. what are you saying?" you bat your lashes at her in disbelief. a weary smile plastered across your face. unsure of the true meaning behind the query.

"don't ask, just answer." she retorted, a different emotion you had never seen before from her laced her voice. was it.. fear?

you were both in the living room sofa legs and arms tangled together, bodies intertwined at your tight, shared apartment. your stomach begins to twist more and more with each second you spent overanalyzing the question.

"really, sae-byeok? you ask such weird-" you forced a giggle before sae-byeok stops you.

"please.. please. just answer." there was a tinge of irritation in her voice, something was definitely wrong.

you mustered up every bit of strength left in your body to answer. "yeah! of course i would silly.. i'd wait for you in every single lifetime." you smiled innocently.

the short-haired girl beside you tore her gaze away from the tv that was playing your beloved soap opera. you noticed her eyes were practically bulging out of her sockets, her eyes fixated on you with furrowed eyebrows. her lips curled into a faint frown. it almost looked.. sorrowful. as if she was whispering an apology without a single word.

"what's wrong?" you asked sweetly. eyes tracing the shadows in hers, searching for echoes of emotion.

she didn't say anything — instead, she placed her trembling, cold hands on the nape of your neck and pressed a kiss to your temple, as if sealing a fragile promise.

you hummed in contentment, forgetting about the uncanny conversation you both had as you snuggled closer to her, taking in her scent of cheap cologne and cedarwood, before quietly drifting to sleep.

unbeknownst to your conscious mind, sae-byeok was quietly shuddering and sobbing while cradling you tight. afraid you'd slip away. tears streamed down her constellated cheeks. leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your skin and lips.

with the final gentle peck on the tip of your nose, she slipped away from your loving grasp.

she stepped into the night— into the arms of fate, never to return.

june 21, 2021.

the bright sunlight seeped through the cracks of your blinds, a gentle cascade of gold that pooled on to your messy bed.

you squinted and scratched your eyes at the harsh light, feeling around the covers for your reading glasses. putting them on once you find the pair of spectacles. your under-eyes were painted black, the aftermath of crying the night before, your eyebags told their own story of a broken heart.

oh,

another day.

you thought to yourself.

you turned over to your bedside table, trying to make sense of the neon numbers that flickered on your alarm clock

11.55...

you didn't feel like getting up. there was nothing left to look forward to in life after the disappearance of your one true love. the vibrant colors of life had dulled to a muted grey, just like the hollow ache that filled your chest ever since she walked away, leaving nothing but a lonely apartment and the ghost of her prescence.

but seong gi-hun had other plans.

buzz. buzz. buzz.

he repeatedly pushed the doorbell in front of the door of your apartment with such urgency that not even a normal person would have.

you groaned at the repeated hum of the apartment doorbell, letting out a bitter laugh as you buried your head further into your pillowcase.

"alright.. i'm coming.. i'm coming!" you yelled out from your wrecked bedroom, the hem of your pearlescent night gown caught on the edge of your bed, tugging at you, pulling you back to the reality you didn’t want to face. you groggily shook the loose string off before shuffling your way to the front door.

you swung open the front door to be greeted with an ill looking uncle with an awful red-dye job standing awkwardly with his finger still hovering over the doorbell, as if caught in the act of interrupting your solitude.

"can i help you?" your small hoarse voice rang through the silence. you took notice of your messy hair, running a hand through it trying to smooth it down, but it was hopeless.

"oh.. oh, yeah. are you.." he stammered, glancing down at a crumpled piece of grid paper in his hand. "(y/n)?" the red haired man murmured.

you nodded hesitantly, stomach twisting with an unease you couldn’t place. "yeah. yeah that's me, what is this about?" you tapped your foot rhythmically on the floorboard of your entrance, looking rather agitated and impatient.

"i'm.. seong gi-hun." the man gulped, a pitiful look shined in his eyes. "we need to talk about.. your girlfriend, kang sae-byeok?"

you felt your world crumbling down on you at sound of her name.

the name that used to taste oh, so sweet at the tip of your tongue now felt like an anchor, dragging you under the weight of memories you weren’t ready to face.

sae-byeok? kang sae-byeok. your kang sae-byeok?

what happened to her? how did this man know who you are? how did he find you?

a million different questions stormed your mind as you disassociate yourself from the conversation. all you could do was stare. frozen.

before you knew it, you were seated on the couch, the same one she had left you on that one fateful night.

"she's.. dead. (y/n).."

no.

the weight of his words pressed against your chest. stealing the breath from your lungs. you curled your fingers into fists, knuckles turning white, your long nails digging to the skin of your palms.

"no.. that's- no you're wrong." you let out a shaky breath. "not my sae-byeok. definitely not my sae-byeok. she's not dead.." your voice cracked.

you saw the look in his eyes, a raw emotion radiating from them. the hard, cold news that laid on top of your chest? they punched through, leaving hollow mark on your body.

the absurdity of it all made you bubble up a wild, manic laugh. not long after, a loud sob wracked your body, sudden and violent.

"i-i'm sorry (y/n), i tried my best to save her.. but someone else had already gotten to her first."

you didn't pay attention to gi-hun's words or explanation of the 'games' that they were forced to play for an unbelievable sum of money. your fingers twitched at your sides, grasping at nothing, searching for something—someone—to hold onto. you held onto a piece of her, but all that remained was emptiness.

"she.. she almost made it to the final game, she fought her hardest! she really did. but.. she succumbed to her injuries."

"sae-byeok died in my arms. her final breath whispered your name. she begged me to cling to life, so that in my survival, you might find the closure she longed for.”

a scream built up in your throat, you shook your head frantically at each word that came out of the man.

"why?" you choked, your lips quivering with such intensity. "why.. why didn't she tell me? i would've been by her side."

fat tears started to roll down your face as you sunk into the sofa, "why didn't she tell me she was struggling?"

your cries punctured through gi-hun's heart, emotions welled up inside him.

"i'm sorry.. i'm truly sorry.." he shut his eyes closed, surpressing his tears.

you buried your face in your hands, gi-hun ushered himself by your side, patting your back. as if offering a sliver of comfort in a sea of grief.

sae-byeok..

sae..

her name echoed through your mind, your brain's hard drive overloading with the thought of her.

did she feel alone in her last moments?

did she felt upset? fear? as she slipped into her death?

did she know she’d never see me again?

where did they put her body?

i should've paid more attention to her!

sae-byeok, i'm sorry..

oh cheol.. how am i going to break the news to him?

i'm never gonna see her again! your thoughts wailed

you kept scolding yourself burying your face deeper into your heavy palms. trying to hide from the world.

the world that kept spinning, even after her death.

clink.

you uncovered your face at the sound of a light clink that snapped you out of your spiral.

a gold, antique key presented in front of you by mr. gi-hun.

you looked up at the man, he seemed to be getting ready to leave.

"sae-byeok, she.. she slipped this in the pocket of my tux." gi-hun mumbled.

"she said it opened a chest, somewhere.. somewhere in her study desk."

your heart skipped a beat.

the chest.

it was a medium-sized storage chest that sae-byeok had thrifted a few years back, collecting dust on top of her study desk. it's exterior was wood, now darkened with age, etched with delicate cracks like the veins of an autumn leaf.

gi-hun was already long gone when you finally found the strength to stand on your legs and move towards the chest.

you inserted the icy-cold key into the keyhole, using a hundred percent of your body strength that is left in you, to turn the key and make it creak open. particles of dust flew in the air surrounding you. you hack and cough at the soot.

inside, there laid a black, hard-covered journal that was about 500 pages thick and loose pieces of parchment that you had never seen before.

you traced the journal with such care, as you unlatch the magnet of the book. suspense building up inside of your chest as you are met with the first page.

a knot tightening in your chest.

'kang sae-byeok' written in a familiar, cursive handwriting. your heart ached.

i can't do this, you thought to yourself.

the tears welled up again.

the urge to cry out her name deepens in you. you whimpered at the sight of her messy handwriting. you missed her so much.

you shook off your tears. reaching to flip over to the first entry.

january 3rd, 2019.

the gears on your mind turned, as you try to remember the significance of that date to sae-byeok.

your breath hitched in realization, a wave of emotions engulfed you.

"oh, sae.."

january 3, 2019.

entry #1 —

she is going to be a problem.

an awfully loud girl waltzed in to the café today. dressed head to toe in clothes that i would never be caught dead in. her friends stuck by her side like lost, blind puppies.

she ordered chamomile tea with cinnamon ginger biscuit on the side.

despite my silence, despite the way I barely looked up— she spoke to me.

she spoke to me?

i did not want to talk to her.

her eyes crinkles when she smiled, lips curling in a knowing laugh, as if she saw through me, as if she found me amusing.

her friends shared silent laughs and snickers behind her, but she didn’t pay attention too much.

i despise the way she acts.

..

"oh my, are those freckles real..? they're so pretty!" you admired the starry speckles that painted her cheeks. your words too gentle.

sae-byeok was unmoved, untouched.

an embarrassed, hardened expression crept up her face.

..

january 5, 2019.

entry #2 —

she came back again, the loud girl.

but this time, she was alone— quieter, more restrained, a shadow of the girl from before.

from what i've observed, i guess she was just putting on a facade in front of her friends. to.. impress them?

i mean i get it.. kind of.

she still annoys me though.

while i was taking her usual order, she gave me her name.

..

"(y/n)" you said softly, your fingers brushed the warm cafe counter.

sae-byeok looked at you, confusion evident in her expression.

"what?"

"my name.." you started, playing with your fingers, twisting and turning them. "..is (y/n)

"oh.." sae-byeok mumbled, her reaction was underwhelming. "pretty." she added, struggling to find the right words.

sae-byeok's face turned tomato red.

she facepalmed herself. what was she thinking? pretty? that's too straightforward.

"sae-byeok" the tall girl mustered up a courage to give her name in exchange, wishing you’d wipe the grin off your face.

"wow.." you sigh. "..pretty!" you mimicked the girl's reply.

the heat that built up in sae-byeok's chest threatened to explode, but she held back.

..

january 15, 2019.

entry #9 —

(y/n) visited the café again today.

the past few times, she had only stopped by for takeaway, her presence fleeting like a passing breeze.

i never spoke to her, only watched from a quiet distance.

she's not all that bad after all, i guess. actually, we had some things in common.

she was studying psychology at a nearby university, and had started her 1st semester.

if money didn’t hold me back, i'd be studying psychology by this time too.

she was my age — 18 years old.

it was rare to have someone my age around. my days were filled with the company of middle-aged men and kind old aunties, their lives so far removed from my own. but then, there was her.

every time she smiles and the sun reflects her eyes, the way her hair flows like a cascade of silk as she throws her head back in laughter, or whenever she places her delicate, polished hands on my forearm in agreement —just for a second—I feel something stir deep within me.

..it does something to me.

something i've never felt before.

i can't shake it off.

do-hee, my co-worker, said that it was blatant flirting. but i dismissed her.

me? the subject of someone’s interest?

yeah right.

she is a mystery to me, an unraveling poem—every glance, every gesture, a verse waiting to be discovered.

i need to get to know her.

i hope she comes back tomorrow.

..

"are you saying you've never watched train to busan?" you laughed, appalled at the tall girl's answer.

she shrugged, "well.. yeah.. do i have to?"

"oh, absolutely sae. be prepared with tissue boxes though. it's not going to look pretty."

"s-sae..?"

"yeah! a new nickname for you.. you don't like it..?"

"no.. no. i'm okay with it." sae-byeok gave you a faltering smile. but you caught the flicker of uncertainty before it faded away.

..

january 21, 2019.

entry #15 —

i spent my lunch break with her today.

she stumbled into the café again in the late afternoon, the familiar chime of the door announcing her arrival.

i had her order memorized.

before she came in, it was already typed out on the register.

she opened up about herself, how she was struggling to pay her college tuition, all the while taking care of her sick mother.

and i might've opened up to her too..

i told her about cheol, mom.

somehow, in the quiet exchange of burdens, we found an understanding of each other.

and it made me.. glad?

whenever she'd nod her head, offering soft words of comfort.. i feel as if it’s like hearing your own heartbeat mirrored in another's, like a quiet confirmation that you're maybe, not alone in the world.

i thought i'd hate spending time with someone like her, but these past few weeks? they've been some of the best of my life.

was it because of her..? maybe.

screw it. i'm going to bed.

..

"i get it." sae-byeoks words shook your core, she was usually the listener in the conversation. but this time, she opened up. you the best you can and listened to her

"i.. im a north korean defector," she whispered. waiting for your reaction.

she braced herself. she expected you to laugh at her, or be scared of her, maybe say how miserable of a person she is, for anything that might confirm what she had always believed—that she was unworthy of kindness.

but no, you sat there. silently listening, you pursed your lips into a thin line, encouraging her to continue.

sae-byeok’s heart swelled.

"and i didnt defect alone.. my brother, cheol. he escaped with me. this past year i've been trying my hardest to earn and save up for money to pay for a broker for my mom. she's still in the north." she explained, she shifted in her seat. her eyes focused on the swishing of coffee in her porcelain mug.

"oh, sae-byeok. i'm so sorry. i didn't know you were going through all of that." your lips curled into a frown.

"you have me by your side, so.. if you need anything.. don't hesitate to call me. yeah?" you assured her sweetly.

sae-byeok's tough exterior melted away.

she looked up at you. a new expression found in her eyes. hope.

no one has ever been this gentle, this kind to her in her life. you were something to sae-byeok alright. that day she was sure of it.

your words held so much affection towards her and she felt full of love and care by you.

your words filled her with something she had rarely known—love.

but with love came fear.

getting close to you meant risking everything. What if she dragged you down with her?

she didn't want you to be with someone who's a criminal, a pickpocketer like herself.

she didn't want to disappoint to you. so she held back.

"little brother you say?"

sae-byeok nodded her head ever so gently.

"can i meet him?"

..

february 3, 2019.

entry #27 —

i'm taking her to meet my brother today.

as I mentioned before, she’s been coming to the café more often. my lunch breaks have become a quiet routine with her by my side, her books spread across the table, the soft scratch of her pen filling the silence between us.

spending 4 weeks of work with her.. it felt more natural and enjoyable.

even my co-workers ask about her, but i bitterly shrug them off like i usually do.

i guess they took notice the effect she had on me. how whenever she talks, i reply with a gentleness that is rare.

i said that i wouldn't want her to be close with someone like me,

but i think i don't care anymore.

not after what happened today.

..

"cheol-ah, this is my friend, (name)." sae-byeok introduced you to her little brother. she snaked her hand into the small of your back, gently pushing you towards the boy who was staring up at you.

"hi, cheol!" you greeted the boy. warmness in your voice.

cheol looked hesitant to answer, but he manage to squeak out a little 'hi' before running to sae-byeok's side.

"come on cheol don't be rude." sae-byeok pestered.

you were quick to think : "hey, i heard you liked coloring, cheol." you kneeled beside him reaching for your tote bag.

the boy nodded and peeked curiously at what you were scouring for in your bag.

you revealed a set of acrylic markers,all the colors of the rainbow, neatly arranged.

cheol's eyes brightened in excitement. "wow!"

"would you like to draw with me cheol?" you asked, voice full of hope.

"yeah!" cheol nodded, basically leaving sae-byeok's side to join yours. ugging you towards a low table scattered with drawing paper.

sae-byeok was surprised to see how open cheol was to you. she decided she would just observe from afar from today.

to sae-byeok, watching you and cheol together felt like witnessing a quiet, simple magic unfold.

the way you patiently guide his hands to draw shapes and doodles, the way you laughed at cheol's little jokes, your smiles mirroring each other, how you both share the same expression of seriousness while coloring in your finished sketches.

it was pure, unhurried—a bond forming over the simple joy of drawing.

it pulled on sae-byeok's heartstrings. the room felt warmer, softer, as the colors on the paper grew brighter. that day, she put on her most genuine smile ever, watching as the bond between you and cheol deepened.

and so does sae-byeok's love does for you.

..

february 6, 2019.

entry #29—

i did it.

i asked her out for dinner.

i can't believe i did it. i never thought i'd be after someone like her.

every day feels lighter knowing she might walk through the café doors at any moment.

that she’ll sit across from me, books spread out, coffee in hand, offering me fleeting glances that leave my heart a little less steady from the work stress.

i want to tell her that, but something is holding me back.

i asked her out to the diner just down the block, the one with the tall milkshakes and the warm glow of neon lights.

and she said yes.

i think i convulsed in my seat after her response because everything was a haze after that. my ears are still ringing.

i don't know why i feel like this. i'm not used to feeling affectionate towards somebody like i feel for her. it’s unfamiliar, uncharted territory.

someone help me figure this out.

..

"hey.." sae-byeok’s voice wavered, the crack in it betraying her nerves., earning a quiet giggle from you.

"yeah, sae?"

oh, she was doomed.

she ran her calloused hands through her hair, obviously nervous.

"would you like to have dinner with me? tomorrow? at haneul's diner down the street?"

"dinner?" you repeated with a toothy grin, "sae, i'd love to!"

let's just say she got off work all giddy that day.

..

february 7, 2019.

entry #30 —

today was amazing.

i know it sounds cheesy, but it was everything that i could've hoped and dreamed for.

i'm so infatuated and lovesick by her.

there i admit it.

dinner was great, she was very.. touchy, tonight.

i like it.

we took our first photo together at the 1,000 won photobooth outside the diner.

and i kissed her on the cheek.

for the photo obviously.

sjbkhdjklfjekjwldskjkjdfljk

..

"mmh, sae the burgers here are so good! how come you never told me about this place." you groaned into the smash burger, savoring the taste. "and it's cheap too!?"

"i guess i've been hiding it from you for this exact moment." she smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of her neck.

a blush crept up your face.

everything that came out of sae-byeok's mouth, it was special to you. even if it sometimes come out as ridiculous. she made you feel special, wanted.

you both sat back in the plush bright red sofa as you finished your meals, enjoying each others company.

"i like this.. we should do this more often." you suggested, discreetly twriling a strand of hair on your finger.

sae-byeok nodded, her second ever genuine smile made an appearance, "yeah, we should."

you averted your gaze to the outside world, it was a perfect night, quiet and comfortable.

that's when you spot a photobooth right across the street from the diner. your eyes lit up.

"hm? what's wrong?" sae-byeok place her head on her hands, following your gaze. her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the tiny, crammed photobooth.

"sae, let's do it." you took her hands rubbing your thumb gently on her knuckles as you try to persuade her. "pleaasee?"

she let out a soft sigh, but sae-byeok did not resist.

here you guys are, crammed into a tiny photobooth on a cold night. you perched on sae-byeok's lap, feeling the denim of her jeans scratch at your stockings.

"does this even work? you've been trying to figure the machine out for like what? 2 minutes?" sae-byeok squinted at the screen, unimpressed. not getting the schematics of the photobooth.

nervous energy buzzed through her. you could feel it in the way her leg bounced beneath you, the way her hands fidgeted against your sides. she was basically suffocating at the tight space.

"sae, c'mon stop it! i'm sure it does work.." you stuck your tongue out in concentration as you insert 1000 won into the money slot.

both of your bodies jolt up as you realized a countdown was starting.

"ooh, quick! pose!" you squealed. you pressed your temple against sae-byeok's and stuck your hands up in a peace sign.

sae-byeok was at a lost for words due to the close proximity, but she managed to hold up a similar, weaker version of your pose.

snap!

you tried to think of a new pose, before placing your peace sign behind sae-byeok's head into bunny ears and sticking your tongue out, her fluffy short hair tickling your hand as she looked at you in disbelief.

snap!

sae-byeok's eye softened at your playful expression. looking at how much you were enjoying taking photos with her.. you looked too cute for her tiny heart to handle!

a bold plan brewed in her mind

"ugh, what else.." you mumbled to yourself. deep in thought. as you try to remember what poses your friends would use in their cute instagram posts.

with a swift motion, sae-byeok cupped your cheek with her cold, left hand. and kissed your cheeks sweetly, squishing your faces together. just in time before the camera snaps. capturing your face in shock as she made an exaggerated 'smooch!' noise.

snap!

the ghost of sae-byeok's kiss lingered on your cheek. you brought your fingers up to your cheeks, still in disbelief.

"cat got your tongue, hm? c'mon pose for the last picture." sae-byeok teased casually, her eyes bore on you.

how could she say things like that without fully breaking down at the seams? you wondered.

you gave her a weak, tight-lipped smile before composing yourself.

you shifted in sae-byeok's lap turning your back towards the exit, you reached to cup her face in your warm hands.

sae-byeok melted at the touch, puffing out her cheeks while looking at you lovingly.

"cheese!" you cheered with a big grin on your face for the last picture.

..

you both stumbled out of the booth, hands still tingling, waiting in flustered silence for the photos to print.

the photos popped out of the machine, revealing two strips of black and white polaroids of you both.

"they're perfect!" you cried out, admiring the cute poses and faces you both shared.

"yeah, they are.." sae-byeok sighed, also admiring the photos, contentment washing over her.

first date with you? accomplished.

..

april 2, 2019.

entry #51—

i have been told all my life that love would never find its way to me,

and i've realized that it was a lie.

because love did find me in my lowest moment, in a form of an adorable kind-hearted psych major i once swore I couldn’t stand.

my days have been fuller —

full of her loving texts lighting up my phone in the morning,

my lunch breaks spent either visiting her campus or her visiting the café to talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

our little dates where we did everything that i wanted to do in my youth but didn't have the time for before.

she softened me in ways I didn’t think possible.

because of her, I started speaking easier, trusting a little more.

because she gave me the hope in humanity that was long gone as soon as i stepped into the real world.

she reminded me that maybe—just maybe—the world wasn’t all bad.

i even gave up pickpocketing for her after we had an argument about how it'd affect my future, how it made her upset. her eyes filled with heartbreak.

she cares about me, and i care for her.

her eyes, nose, lips, hair. all of her

she's the vitamin i had never known i needed. i crave to spend time with her each and every day.

today, i'm going to make her mine.

..

you stepped out of your lecture, exhausted. the weight of the world on your back.

you sighed at the outside world, you usually loved the rain. but today, of all days, did it really have to pour? and on the day you forgot your umbrella?

you sent a quick text to sae-byeok to let her know you've finished school for the day.

chamomile girl ♡ : sae! ^__^ just finished school! chamomile girl ♡ : i'm about to head home.. it's raining outside so i think i'll run to the nearest bus stop!! forgot my umbrella hehe~ chamomile girl ♡ : i'll visit you tonight at the cafe during nearing your closing hours so we could hang out more :3c

my pers♡nal barista : sounds great. :)

you smiled at your phone, tucking it away shortly after you received a text back as you made your way down flights of stairs of your faculty building.

you prepared your tote bag, taking it off to use it as protection from the rain. the soles of your platforms squelching on the now wet entrance of the building before you stopped in your tracks, a small gasp left your lips.

"sae..?"

the short-haired girl stood in front of you, a wide umbrella protecting her from the rain. she was still in her uniform, smiling at you.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but you stepped closer to her. both of you now sheltered under the umbrella.

"hi." she whispered just enough so you could hear it through the sound of trickling rain.

you giggled at her actions, poking at her sides. "hey you!.. what're you doing here?"

"to take you home, obviously." she shoved her left hand into her pockets. "i'm not going to let you get sick from the rain"

your heart exploded with immense love and gratitude. you wanted to say a million things. a million ways to tell her how much this meant, how much she meant.

"now come on, let's get you home." she ushered you to the exit of your campus. her hands wrapped around you.

safe. that's what you felt every time you were with sae-byeok. under sae-byeok’s care, the cold barely reached you.

you had such intense feelings towards the north-korean.

you couldn't keep it in any longer.

the two of you walked in step along the bridge, the city lights flickering in the distance, the rain creating a soft melody around you.

the bridge lead to a more secluded neighborhood, where your apartment was.

you sneaked glances at the tall girl from time to time but every time you'd look, she was already looking at you.

"hm? what's on your mind sae?"

she stopped abruptly, you were startled by this, stumbling into a halt. she took your recently manicured hands in her rough ones.

she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"i like you."

"huh?"

"no, i love you." she corrected herself, swallowing hard. "(y/n), i love you."

"with all my heart. i don't know where i realized that i love you, maybe in our quiet moments or in the middle of our dates full of laughter—but somewhere along the way, you became my favorite part of the day."

you stared at awe at her. is this real life?

"at first i didn't really take interest of you.. then after some time i felt as if it was simple admiration, but now i realized that deep down in my heart, i want to be with you."

the world stilled.

"sae.. i don't know what to say.."

she chuckled nervously, "you don't have to say anything.. i just need you to say yes or no."

your heart thumped harder in the walls of you chest, is this going where i think it is? you thought to yourself.

"can i be your girlfriend?" sae-byeok sputtered out, her body tensing up.

a matching pink flush crept onto both of your faces.

you took a moment to register the question, your ears rang before fusing with the sound of rain falling and hitting the ground.

"finally," you giggled. your laughter was light and it felt like a sweet relief to sae-byeok.

"yes, sae. i'd love you to be my girlfriend."

"r-really?" she stammered. "you do?"

you nodded, snorting all the while giggling at her child-like response.

in the midst of the sound of your voice echoing through the open bridge. you heard a loud sob coming from the tall girl towering in front of you.

your laughter faded as you looked up at her in shock. your eyes widened at the rare sight of sae-byeok crying.

"oh no, baby.. what's wrong?" you cooed, quickly shuffling to her side, you tiptoed and reached for her face, wiping away her tears.

sae-byeok threw her head back, as she tried to shake away her tears. "i..i'm sorry." she sniffled, "i'm just so glad you're my girlfriend now."

you stiffled a gasp at her confession, you chest ached. "aw you're so cute when you're all sappy!"

"shut up!" she whined, her low voice rumbling.

her grip on the umbrella faltered, overwhelmed by emotion. so she placed her head on the nook of your shoulders, leaning her full body weight onto you.

you stumbled at the change of position, quickly wrapping your hands around her torso, hugging her.

"thank you. thank you for giving a chance.." she whispered into your neck, making you shiver.

you weren't used to this vulnerable side of sae-byeok. you loved that you brought a new, better version of her.

without a word, you simply held her tighter, running soothing circles along her back, silently vowing to give her all the love she had ever been denied.

..

your hands slapped over your mouth, your whole body trembled violently, like a fragile leaf caught in a storm.

you could taste your salty tears run down your plump lips as your teeth chattered.

your heart was chipping apart piece by piece the more you read the journal. your fragile heart couldn't bear the weight of reality anymore.

your lover,

the one you thought you'd spend your whole life with.

gone.

and this was all that is left of her..

sae-byeok..

why did she have to leave..?

she was all you had ever since your mother passed away.

she was the only person you clung to in this cruel world.

now you had to face the rest of your life without her.

you decided to not continue reading. saving the remaining pages to lull to into sleep every night.

every day, you read one entry each night. reminiscing the past, daydreaming yourself into the story told on the parchment. whilst imagining the ghost of the love of your life, holding you tight as you cried between the pages.

you neared the end of the journal, until one day you reached..

the last entry from sae-byeok.

but it can't be? the book still had pages left on it, clean, unscathed.

and then you remembered.

oh..

you felt your bones crumbling, your eyes weakened at the date that was messily scratched unto the journal.

june 8, 2021.

entry #563

an entry from the day before she left your life forever.

june 8, 2021.

entry #563—

i don't know how i'm supposed to tell her.

i don't know how i'm supposed to tell her that a man in a ridiculous tight tuxedo went up to me offering money for a game of ddakji a few days ago as i left the station

she would laugh at my face.

she would also laugh at the fact that the man gave his business card, saying that if i called that number, i would be able to play games for money.

honestly it was an absurd claim. but i decided to test it.

they picked me up in the hush of night & drugged me.

i woke up in a sterile, windowless place—crowded with greasy, clueless, no-lifers. and among them, i saw a ghost from my past.

deok-su.

out of all the places i could find him in, it was in that sterile debt jungle.

I took a hard hit from fate that day, but I got up, because I had to.

i was here for her.

i was here for you.

i wanted to pay off all of your debts, college tuition, spoil you endlessly with a shower of gifts.

my debts was also part of the reason why i joined. but darling, nothing could beat seeing you smile.

the first game was red light, green light.

a game that decorated my childhood in the north.

i tried my best to stay calm and collected. but then the worse happened.

a blaring shot ran through and echoed the arena.

an obnoxious, loud, blonde haired man. shot dead. his blood spilling over the sandy ground.

that was the first time in my life i had ever felt true, raw, fear.

fear of leaving you behind in this cruel world without saying goodbye. fear of not being able to touch, hold, or kiss you anymore. fear of your hands reaching for me in the dark, only to find nothing.

deep inside i was instantly regretting my decision but i prayed hard.

i prayed so i could make it out alive.

and.. my prayers came true.

i made it out alive.

they sent us home after some people protested. how it was absurd to keep them in such a place like this. a bloodbath.

i get to come home into your arms again, i was able to throw myself into your arms, to feel the warmth of your body against mine, to hear your voice —even if it was yelling at me for three straight hours.

i didn't care. i just care that you were there.

but i was still unsatisfied.

i couldn't shake the memory of the first thing i saw as i barged into our shared apartment that morning.

the love of my life

crying

you drowned yourself in tears before your debts did.

remember how the game master let us come home?

we were also given a chance to join back the games.

so i've decided that i'm going to win the games for you.

bring back a heart-stopping amount of money. to pay off your debts, give you everything the world has to offer.

with 45.6 billion won, i could build us a home. i could bring cheol into a life where he never has to go hungry again. i could see my mother again. i could create the small, quiet, beautiful family we always dreamed of.

but if I don’t make it back—

if you made it to this page and it finds you instead of me..

i need you to know that I’m sorry.

i’m sorry I was too weak to find another way.

i'm sorry i couldn't let go of my past, truly, my stubbornness never left.

i’m sorry for every night you’ll spend alone, wondering if I made the right choice, wondering if it was all your fault, which it wasn't.

i’m sorry that i won’t be there to kiss away your tears when you read this. i'm sorry that i won't be able to touch you anymore.

all i wish for you, my beloved is

to live.

live the life you've dreamt of.

you've always wanted to raise kids, so my last wish is for you to raise cheol for me.

i see how much you love him. how much you wished you could sing him lullabies, read him stories to sleep, have him by your side. so every time you look at him, you'd think of me.

marry someone who sees the good in you even in a sea of imperfect.

marry someone who would stay with you even if the whole world was against you.

who'd protect you, love you, cherish you like i did.

just please, don't forget about me.

but if i do make it back—if fate is kinder to me this time—

i’ll tell you all of this myself.

i pray my last moments are spent replaying all the memories i had with you. so i could die with a heart full of love and a smile on my face.

i love you lots and lots like jelly tots.

your personal barista,

kang sae-byeok.

ending notes : hope you guys enjoyed this! almost cried tbh.. should i make a pt.2 happy ending where she comes back but as a guard?

[soulstagger]

A little personal

Last night was not a great night for me, both with just usual lingering insecurity you might get from social media, and some worldly woes about the state of things and how plans for a trip into the us later in the year might be upended by a weak Canadian dollar.

Those all paled in comparison to a realization last night that, all my family are out of town for a month or two as usual this time of year. But for the first time instead of me being alone with a little family nearby, I am entirely alone. Because in the Years prior my grandparents were always around and I always had someone to talk to, my grandparents were the two who understood me the most in the world.

A few years prior my grandma passed away and then finally last year my grandfather did, and it just hit me last night that I really was that alone. But such a thing is so heavy that to put that on people randomly would he unfair. Something that is kind of reserved for best friends but even then it's not like they could do anything, it was just a night of such crushing extreme sadness but I tried to just push it all away.

In the end I am not that good at that, the kindness people showed in seeing even a small post of mine I tried to balance between welcoming it and ensuring that no one dug too deep because I just wasn't in a state to do so.

That resulted in some lapse of judgment where I opened up a little and then promptly slammed the door on people's faces because I got terrified.

Even worse I hurt people from it, people who probably didn't know how bad things were and the following conversations late at night probably didn't help because I was in such a mess and I couldn't even address everything they were worried about.

Even now this morning I don't think I'm any better, I miss my grandparents, I feel alone and isolated, and I feel again that sharing and being weak isn't allowed from me. I say this all because I just want anyone to know last night I'm sorry if I was purposely dismissive of your support, sorry if I chose the wrong words, I didn't mean any of it.

I don't want my problems to become anyone else's problems, that's why I try never to share things. But I'm weak and even I want people to care, I want someone to care about me but only so much because I'm just too afraid to let anyone in that far.

So I apologize for last night. I hope this grants some insight to people as to why it was hard for me to talk to you and perhaps why some of the push back on my responses simply put me in a position where I could not help you back.

I'm sorry for letting you down.

I'll try to be better.

[casedclosedbye]

"Yes, Ma'am"

Derek Morgan x reader

Fluff

Wc: 4k

Summary: A heated argument between you and your boyfriend, Derek, leads to an unexpected consequence when Derek jokingly promises to do your bidding for four months if he repeatedly dismisses your feelings.

The argument had been heated, to say the least. What started as a minor disagreement had escalated quickly, with both of you yelling at each other in frustration. Derek’s temper flared, and your patience wore thin. Words were thrown back and forth, sharp and biting.

"I don’t get why you’re making this such a big deal!" Derek snapped, pacing the living room, his hands clenched into fists.

"Because you’re *constantly* telling me I’m wrong!" you shot back, voice rising. "And it’s exhausting, Derek. I can’t even speak without you correcting me every time."

"That’s not what I’m doing! You’re just being overly sensitive!" He turned away, his back stiff, clearly trying to hold his ground.

You stood there, seething. His dismissal of your feelings, the constant undermining, it all hurt more than he seemed to realize. "I don’t know how many times I have to say it—just *listen* to me for once!"

Derek froze, his shoulders tense, and you could practically feel the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until you spoke again.

"You've told me I’m wrong ten times today, Derek," you said, your voice steady but laced with a quiet anger that you couldn’t hide.

Derek blinked, clearly taken aback, but he didn’t respond immediately. You could see his brain working, trying to recall the times he had dismissed you.

"Ten?" His voice was softer now, the edge of frustration gone. "I didn’t realize…"

"Yeah, ten." You crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check, but inside, you were livid. "You can’t just keep shutting me down like this and expect everything to be fine."

A few hours passed after that, the two of you in separate rooms, cooling down. You needed space, and Derek did too. The silence was painful, but you knew it was necessary. Finally, as the sun began to set, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Derek appeared in the doorway, his face softer now, his usual confidence replaced with something more vulnerable.

"Hey," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I... I’ve been thinking about everything I said. And you’re right. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m sorry."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, a sheepish grin starting to form. "I was being a stubborn ass. I shouldn’t have dismissed your feelings, and I definitely shouldn’t have told you you were wrong so many times." He rubbed his neck. "I was frustrated, but that’s no excuse. I was wrong."

You nodded, relieved that he was finally admitting what you already knew. But now, it was your turn to make your point.

"I appreciate the apology," you said, walking toward him. "But I think there’s a little something you need to remember from months ago." You smiled mischievously and tapped your wristwatch.

Derek raised an eyebrow, confused, as you pulled out your phone and pressed a button. A voice, unmistakably Derek’s, echoed from the speaker, and you watched his expression shift from confusion to realization.

"I, Derek Morgan, will buy my girlfriend whatever she wants, do all her chores, and whatever she wants for 2 whole weeks if I piss her off, or tell her she’s wrong more than two times. And if I tell her she’s wrong for twice that amount, I will do her biddings for a whole month... happy?"

You looked up at him with a smirk. "Remember that, babe?"

His eyes widened as he processed what you had just played. You had recorded it months ago, during a light-hearted conversation when you both were joking about how often he called you out. At the time, Derek had made a ridiculous promise, thinking you would never actually hold him to it.

"So," you continued, your grin growing wider, "you told me I was wrong 10 times today. So that means... four months of doing my bidding."

Derek stared at you for a moment, eyes darting between you and his smartwatch, then let out a resigned sigh. He rubbed his face, clearly embarrassed. "I was being a fool, wasn’t I?"

"You were," you replied, voice full of mock sympathy. "But it’s okay. You *did* promise, after all."

He sighed again, the tension in his posture melting as he finally gave in. "Okay. Okay, I admit it. Four months. I’ll do whatever you want." His tone was a mix of frustration and amusement. "This is the worst thing I’ve ever promised in my life."

You chuckled, crossing your arms. "You should’ve thought about that before you pissed me off, Derek."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you two and pulling you into a tight embrace. "You really know how to hold me to my word, don’t you?"

"Yes, ma’am," you said sweetly, enjoying every moment of his surrender.

Derek laughed softly, his hands rubbing your back. "Yes, ma’am… four months. I’m gonna be your servant."

You smiled up at him, your heart softening despite everything that had happened. "I like the sound of that."

"You’re evil, you know that?" he said with a teasing grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"You brought it upon yourself, Derek."

He chuckled and pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a genuine smile. "I’ll make it up to you. I promise."

"Good," you said with a smirk. "And don’t forget, you’ve got a lot of work to do for the next four months."

"Yes, ma’am," he repeated, the words now a playful promise that you knew he would keep.

The next few days were nothing short of entertaining. Derek, for all his bravado and confidence, quickly learned that making a promise in the heat of the moment wasn’t as easy to keep when the actual work began. The first task he had to tackle? Grocery shopping.

"You’re sure about this list?" Derek asked, glancing down at the sheet of paper you handed him.

"Yes," you replied, raising an eyebrow at him. "I want everything on there. Don't forget the organic kale, and don't even think about getting the generic brand of almond milk."

"Why the organic kale, though?" Derek asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. "It all looks the same to me."

"Don’t question the kale," you said, a playful tone lacing your words. "Just get it."

He sighed dramatically, but he knew better than to push it. With a huff, he grabbed his keys. "Fine, but I’m going to look ridiculous carrying this list around."

"Not my problem," you shot back with a smirk. "Enjoy your grocery trip, servant."

When he returned an hour later, Derek wasn’t quite as amused. He dragged his feet through the door, arms laden with bags, looking slightly frazzled.

"Next time, I’m giving you a list with nothing but ‘toothpaste,’ ‘toilet paper,’ and ‘bread,’" he grumbled, dropping the bags onto the counter with an exaggerated sigh.

You grinned, unfolding the bags with glee. "You got everything, though?"

He hesitated, looking inside the bags as if half-expecting some sort of disaster to be hidden among the kale and almond milk. "I didn’t forget anything, but... I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more judged by the cashier in my life."

You chuckled, setting the kale and almond milk in their proper places. "Oh, Derek. The things we do for love."

The next task was even more amusing. You’d decided that Derek’s first real test of submission—er, servitude—would be cleaning the bathroom. You handed him the cleaning supplies with a wicked grin.

"You said it, you do it. Go clean the shower."

Derek stared at the mop and cleaning sprays with a sense of dread, knowing full well what was coming. "Are you serious? This is torture."

"You promised, remember?" you teased, watching as he reluctantly began scrubbing away. "Besides, I thought you might enjoy being at my beck and call."

The scrubbing continued for the next hour. Derek had grumbled at first but then settled into a resigned rhythm, muttering under his breath about how *no one ever told him relationships would be like this.*

At some point, you heard him grumbling about how much he hated cleaning the shower, followed by a particularly loud *"This is what I get for pissing her off."*

You couldn't help but laugh, standing at the bathroom door, arms crossed as you observed Derek’s ordeal.

"I can hear you, you know," you teased.

He glanced up from scrubbing the tiles, eyes wide. "I’m just... I’m just saying. This is how it’s gonna be for four months?"

"Yup," you said smugly. "Better get used to it."

The next few weeks were filled with more and more of Derek’s servitude, each task escalating in ridiculousness. From ironing your clothes perfectly, to doing all the laundry, Derek even found himself trying his hand at cooking dinner, which, let's just say, didn’t go as planned.

He handed you the plate, looking almost proud of himself. "I made spaghetti."

You picked up a fork, inspecting the dish carefully before looking up at him with mock seriousness. "This... this looks like a crime scene. What did you *do* to the spaghetti?"

Derek’s face turned red with embarrassment. "I followed the instructions! The noodles are just a little overcooked, okay? It’s not that bad!"

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of the mushy noodles. Derek waited with bated breath, watching for your reaction. You chewed slowly, giving him a blank stare.

"It’s... it’s *fine,*" you said finally, trying to keep a straight face. "Definitely not something you should make me eat again, though."

He sighed in relief, but you could see the disappointment on his face. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered.

"I’m lucky *you* promised to cook for me for the next few months," you quipped back.

But it wasn’t all just playful teasing. As the days wore on, Derek’s attitude shifted in a subtle but important way. He was no longer the frustrated, stubborn man who had gotten caught up in his own pride. The more he served you, the more he seemed to listen—really listen—to you. And in turn, you found yourself letting go of the resentment that had been building up before the argument.

One evening, as you two were watching TV on the couch, Derek handed you a bowl of popcorn. He’d made it himself, this time without burning it.

"Here," he said, sitting down beside you. "Popcorn, no overcooked spaghetti in sight."

You smiled at the gesture, feeling a warmth in your chest. "Thank you, Derek."

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice softening. "It’s kind of nice, you know? Taking care of you. Even if it started as a... punishment."

You looked at him, really looked at him. For the first time in a while, it wasn’t about proving something or being right—it was about the two of you, making it work despite the bumps along the way.

"I guess I’m not as evil as I look," you teased.

Derek smirked, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead. "Only a little evil, maybe."

But as the days turned to weeks, the line between joking and genuine affection blurred, and you both realized that the promise Derek had made, though born of frustration and pride, had inadvertently brought the two of you closer. In those four months of “servitude,” there were no more arguments about being right or wrong, no more fights that escalated beyond repair. Instead, there were quiet moments of understanding, shared laughter, and—when he slipped up—affectionate reminders of the promise he had made.

One evening, about halfway through the second month, Derek came to you, a bit nervous.

"So, uh, I know I’m supposed to do whatever you want for four months, but..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. "What if... what if I told you that I kind of... like doing this? You know, taking care of you?"

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, Derek, I’m glad to hear it. Because, you see, you’ve still got two more months left of this."

He groaned dramatically, but this time, there was no frustration behind it—just a tired but affectionate smile.

"Yeah, I know," he said, pulling you into his arms. "I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. But I *really* don’t think I’ll ever make that mistake again."

You laughed, kissing him softly. "I hope not."

And so, over the course of the next two months, Derek became a master of doing your bidding, and the two of you grew even closer.

As his “sentence” came to an end, you couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet tinge in your heart.

"So, what happens when the four months are up?" Derek asked, looking down at you as you both sat on the couch one last time.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. "I think we’ve both learned a lot. But I’m not done with you yet."

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean by that?"

You grinned, leaning in close. "You really think I’m going to let you off that easy? We’ve still got a *lot* of unfinished business, Derek."

Derek let out a groan, but this time, it was with affection. "You’re never going to let me forget, are you?"

"Not a chance," you said, laughing softly. "Now, get to work, servant."

[whosscruffylooking]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 7 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: violence. mentions of weapons and death. descriptions of wounds and blood. word count: 4k a/n: I can't stand the beginning of this, but my brain is too fried to write anything better. Series Masterlist

The atmosphere in the truck feels lighter, though not entirely free of the burden you all carry. There’s a newfound ease between the three of you. Ellie chatters now and then, her voice filling the silence with youthful curiosity, but it’s the quieter moments that linger. The way Joel’s eyes glance to yours in the passenger seat, uncertain yet inviting. The way his hand rests on the gearshift, pinky lifting every so often, as if drawn by some unseen pull—reaching for even the tiniest connection, just an inch closer to you.

You’ve finally breached one of the most forbidden subjects: Sarah. For so long, the unaddressed pain between you had been like a rusted blade buried deep, poisoning your thoughts and staining every step forward. You had both swallowed a grief so consuming it reshaped you, hollowed out the people you once were, and left jagged edges where softer ones had been. Twenty years of silence. Twenty years of blame, festering and misplaced.

But while the ghost of resentment still remains, clinging stubbornly like smoke after a fire, there’s movement now. It’s delicate and gradual like the first uneasy thaw after a long, punishing winter. Every breath feels like it could tip the balance toward healing or fracture it all over again, but for the first time, there’s hope. It’s frightening, really—the way it creeps in, tempting you to believe there’s still something left to save.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll pull off here,” Joel declares as he guides the truck offroad, weaving carefully through a forest of trees until he finds a suitable spot.

As the three of you settle in for the night, the sun melts into the horizon, casting long amber shadows through the trees. Joel busies himself with arranging the sleeping bags, his movements methodical, deliberate. It doesn’t go unnoticed—by you or Ellie—that he places yours closest to his. A quiet statement that is undeniable. 

Later, he leans against a tree, the rough bark pressing into his back as his eyes track your every movement. He watchesthe way you laugh at one of Ellie’s jokes, a rare flicker of brightness breaking through the cracks of everything you’ve endured. It’s fleeting, but it catches something in his chest, grips him tight. For a moment, he sees you as you once were—before the world collapsed, before you were both hardened by loss and time. It stirs something deep, something he thought had withered away long ago.

Still, unease gnaws at the edges of his thoughts, restless and insistent. Tommy had told him you left that night. He said you had disappeared and never looked back. But then, why return if you had already gone? You said you were hurt, lost, searching for help—why go back? Why risk everything? The pieces don’t align, jagged and ill-fitting, teasing a truth he isn’t sure he’s ready to face.

It’s a conversation for another day, but the questions press in like splinters beneath his skin, threatening to tear open wounds he’s barely stitched closed. His fingers graze over the cracked glass of his watch, the lantern’s glow catching the fractures like veins of light. A relic of another life—one he’s never truly abandoned. He wonders if you’ve clung to the past the same way, if it’s been your anchor in the same relentless storm.

But the unease coils tighter, a vice around his ribs. He knows himself well enough to recognize it—this feeling won’t let go, won’t quit, not until he has the answers. And though the truth might cut him open, he also knows he won’t turn away. It’ll fester otherwise, like everything else he’s tried—and failed—to bury.

»»————————-««

As you nestle into your sleeping bags, the rhythmic hum of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl weave through the night air, a fragile lullaby against the quiet tension between you. You focus on the sounds, willing them to drown out the awareness of just how close Joel is beside you.

He, however, keeps his gaze fixed on the stars, their cold glow offering little solace. His mind churns, restless and unrelenting, grasping for anything to quiet the unease stirring deep in his chest.

“Can I ask you guys a serious question?” Ellie’s voice breaks the quiet, snapping both you and Joel out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” Joel groans, already bracing himself.

“Why did the scarecrow get an award?” she asks, another pun from that Will Livingston book she refuses to stop quoting.

Joel sighs heavily. “Because he was outstanding in his field,” he deadpans, his tone flat as a board. It’s clear he wants this over with as quickly as possible.

“You dick! Did you read this?” Ellie laughs, her voice full of mock betrayal.

Her laughter is contagious, and you can’t help but chuckle yourself. Ellie notices, and that only makes her laugh harder, her giggles bubbling up like she’s struck comedy gold.

You glance at Joel, and his expression is priceless—a mix of exasperation and pure defeat. He looks like he’s contemplating how far he could drive before they’d notice he’s gone.

“Shhhh,” you try to stifle your laughter, though it keeps slipping out. “Ellie, come on, or he’s gonna lose it.”

But Ellie’s laughter only grows louder, and for a brief moment, the heaviness of the night lifts, replaced by a rare, fleeting lightness. Even Joel, despite himself, seems less tense, though he’d never admit it.

»»————————-««

The next day, you make it to Kansas City. It’s your turn to drive when the road ahead suddenly narrows into a blockade. Stacked cars and an old semi-trailer block the way forward, their rusted hulks leaning precariously.

Joel leans forward in the passenger seat, assessing the situation. “Pull over,” he says, his voice calm but purposeful. He grabs his gun, opening the door. “Stay put, but move over to the passenger seat.”

You slide over as he steps out, moving carefully around the obstacle, his keen eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. After a few tense minutes, he returns, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary.

“Blocked pretty solid,” he confirms. You hold up the map, tracing a route with your finger.

“If we go around the tunnel and take the next ramp, we should loop back to the highway.”

Joel nods, glancing at the barricade one last time before driving the truck away. Once in the city, he navigates the truck through the crumbling streets, the maze of abandoned buildings growing denser with every turn. The eerie stillness is unnerving, and you can feel Joel growing more restless beside you.

“Stop,” Ellie says abruptly, her voice cutting through the suspense. Joel’s hand shoots out instinctively to the dashboard as you brake.

“Is that the QZ?” she asks, pointing out the window. “Where’s FEDRA? There’s supposed to be guards and checkpoints.”

“She’s right,” you agree, scanning the empty streets. “It’s way too quiet.”

Joel’s hand twitches toward his gun. Before either of you can act, a voice calls out from the shadows.

“Stop! Help me, please!”

A man stumbles into view, clutching his side, his gait uneven. Blood stains his shirt, and his face is twisted in pain. He looks desperate. Too desperate.

You grab Joel’s arm, your grip firm. “Don’t stop,” you instruct. Joel glances at you, then back at the man.

“Put your seatbelt on, Ellie,” Joel orders, his voice cold.

“What? We’re just gonna leave him?” she asks, her tone tinged with disbelief.

“He’s not hurt, Ellie,” you answer, your voice tight.

Joel slams his foot on the gas, the truck surging forward. The man dives out of the way as a loud crash shatters the windshield—a cinder block falls from above. The truck jolts violently as spikes shred the tires. Joel curses under his breath, gripping the wheel as the truck fishtails.

From the corner of your eye, you see a man step into the street, raising a gun. Three sharp cracks ring out. Pain explodes in your shoulder, hot and blinding. You cry out, your hand shooting to the wound as blood begins to seep through your fingers.

“Shit!” Ellie screams, lurching forward, her hands hovering helplessly over you. “You’re hit!”

Joel’s eyes dart to you, wide with panic. Without a word, he jerks the wheel hard to the right.

“Hold on!” he yells, pressuring the gas pedal to the floor. The truck barrels forward, smashing straight into the front of an old laundromat. Glass and debris explode around you as the truck crashes through the building, coming to a screeching halt amid the rows of rusted washing machines.

Gunfire continues to rain down outside, bullets pinging off the truck’s metal frame. Joel doesn’t waver—he’s out of the truck in an instant, his gun drawn as he moves to your side. He tears the door open, his movements frantic but precise.

“Ellie, stay low and follow me!” Joel barks, already helping you out of the truck. His arm wraps around your waist, steadying you as you stumble, your legs weakened by the pain in your shoulder.

“They’re still shooting!” Ellie yells, ducking behind the truck for cover.

“Go! Move!” Joel shouts, dragging you toward the back of the laundromat where the machines provide better cover. His grip on you is firm but careful, his body shielding yours as bullets shatter the glass and ricochet off metal.

Inside the dim, dusty room, Joel lowers you behind a row of washers, pressing his hand firmly against your wound to staunch the bleeding. His face is pale, his breaths ragged as his eyes dart toward the shattered front window, tracking the movement of the attackers outside.

“I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, though the pain in your voice betrays you.

“Bullshit,” Joel snaps, his voice breaking slightly. “Stay down. Don’t move.”

You nod weakly, your vision blurring as Ellie crouches beside you, her wide eyes darting between you and Joel.

“What do we do?” she asks, her voice shaking.

Joel glances at you, something raw flickering in his eyes before he turns back to Ellie. “Stay here. Watch her. I’ll deal with them.”

“You see that hole over there?” You motion toward the jagged hole in the wall, your breath shallow, the edges of your vision blurring slightly.

Ellie nods, her wide eyes darting between you and Joel.

“You go squeeze through. Stay there. Whatever you do, don’t leave, okay?” Your voice is weaker than you’d like, but it carries enough weight to make her nod, even as fear flickers across her face.

“Joel,” you say, your voice trembling now, “Cover her. She’s gonna go through there. And hand me my gun, will you? It’s not like I have much else to do.” You try to summon a smirk, but it falls flat. The pain is taking its toll.

Joel hesitates, his jaw clenching as though he wants to argue, but he complies, handing you your gun with a look that says he disagrees with this plan.

“When I say go, you run,” Joel tells Ellie, his tone firm and steady.

Ellie’s lip quivers, but she nods. “They’re not gonna hit you,” Joel reassures her, his voice softening. “Look at me! They’re not gonna hit you.”

Your heart clenches, watching him ground her in the chaos. She trusts him—more than anyone else in the world—and it shows in the way she steels herself under his gaze.

And it plays out just as planned. Joel fires cover shots, his aim sharp and unwavering, while Ellie sprints to the hole in the wall, slipping through to safety. He tosses your gun to you.

With trembling hands, you drag yourself behind an overturned washer, positioning yourself as best as you can to provide backup. You’ve been through worse, you remind yourself. You’ve survived worse. The sharp, burning pain in your shoulder isn’t enough to stop you—not yet.

The chaos quiets, but heavy footsteps echo in the distance. Joel does away with the last man with practiced precision. Relief flickers through you—until he rushes to your side and sees your paling face and the way your eyes start to lose focus.

“Stay with me,” Joel urges, his voice rising in desperation. “Don’t go to sleep. You hear me? We can rest later.”

His hands press hard against your wound, and the sharp surge of pain pushes you to the edge. Your vision darkens, the sounds around you muffling. You fight to stay present, but it’s too much—the pain, the blood loss, the sheer exhaustion.

The sound of a door slamming open jolts you back, even as you hover on the edge of consciousness. Joel’s hands are ripped from you.

“Joel!” Your voice is hoarse and weak, but panic fuels it.

What follows is a cacophony of sounds—a brutal struggle, fists meeting flesh, the crash of objects falling, and then gasping—Joel’s gasping. You can’t see him, can’t help him and your heart seizes with fear. You feel utterly helpless.

A gunshot rings out, piercing the air. The sound startles you, and then you hear a voice—a stranger’s—crying out in pain, pleading for mercy. His words are garbled, but it’s not Joel. Relief floods you, though it’s quickly overtaken by dread.

Joel says something to Ellie, but your hearing is fading in and out. The gunshot came from Ellie? Then, her small frame suddenly appears beside you. She buries her face in your shoulder, her trembling hands clutching at you.

You force your shaking arms to move, weakly covering her ears. “It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay,” you whisper, though your words feel hollow. You’re barely hanging on, your mind fighting to stay present for her.

Another scream cuts through the night, followed by silence. It’s over.

Joel’s hands return to you, his grip steady but shaking. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you closer.

You let yourself take one last deep breath, your body finally succumbing to the darkness.

“Joel! Joel, what’s happening?!��� Ellie’s voice pierces the haze, frantic and scared.

“She’s okay!” Joel barks, though his voice trembles with barely contained panic. “She’s just passed out. She’ll be fine.” He looks at Ellie, desperate now. “Go clear that door over there. I need to get her in someplace safe.”

Joel moves with a frantic precision, his hands steady even as his thoughts spiral out of control. He lays you down on an old, splintered desk in the back room. Blood seeps through the torn fabric of your shirt, spreading fast, too fast, and it makes his stomach twist violently.

“Dammit,” he mutters under his breath, grabbing a rag from his pack and pressing it against the wound. You flinch slightly even in your unconscious state, the movement barely there but enough to let him know you’re still fighting. He clamps down harder on the cloth, praying it’ll stop the bleeding.

He pulls a bottle of alcohol from his bag, uncapping it with one hand while the other keeps pressure on your shoulder. His chest tightens as he remembers the way you looked at him earlier, like you trusted him completely. He doesn’t deserve that trust— not after the way things ended, the way he’s been holding onto every ounce of resentment like it was armor.

When he pours the alcohol over your wound, you let out a low, unconscious whimper, and it nearly shatters him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice barely audible. His hands shake for a fraction of a second before he forces himself back into focus.

The memories hit him like blows as he threads a needle, the trembling lantern light reflecting off the curved metal. Tommy said you left, his mind insists, a bitter refrain he’s held onto for years. But you didn’t, did you? Not entirely, not the way he thought.

Joel’s jaw tightens as he starts stitching the wound, his hands steady despite the storm in his chest. Every stitch feels like a penance, a punishment for the years he’s spent hating you, for not asking the questions he should’ve asked, for letting pride and anger fester where understanding should’ve been.

His gaze flickers to your face, soft and vulnerable in the dim light, and a pang of guilt settles deep in his gut. You didn’t deserve this—not the wound, not his coldness, not the years spent apart.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, almost pleading. “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

The words come unbidden, bare, and unfiltered, slipping past the walls he’s built so carefully. He doesn’t know if you can hear him, but saying it feels like a small release, like loosening a band that’s been wrapped too tightly around his chest.

By the time he finishes stitching you up, his hands are covered in blood, and his heart feels just as stained. He sits back on the chair next to the desk, his head falling into his hands for a brief moment.

The sound of Ellie shuffling nervously in the doorway brings him back. He straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans and looking at her with a weariness he doesn’t try to hide.

“She gonna be okay?” Ellie asks softly, her eyes red-rimmed and wide with fear.

Joel nods, though his throat feels too tight to speak. “She’ll be fine,” he manages, more to convince himself than her.

But as he looks at you again, unconscious and pale, he knows this isn’t over. The wound might heal, but the questions won’t. Not until he gets answers. And even then, he’s not sure the guilt will ever go away.

»»————————-««

The night stretches on, endless and unrelenting. Joel stays propped up against the table, his eyes fixed on you, watching the faint rise and fall of your chest. Ellie is fast asleep, curled up on the floor nearby, but Joel can’t afford to rest. Not with the weight pressing down on his chest like a vice.

He fights exhaustion, forcing himself to stay awake. Every time his eyelids droop, he snaps them open again, his focus returning to you. You look peaceful, even with the makeshift bandages and bruises. Peaceful in a way that pulls at something deep inside him. He’s reminded of a morning long ago, of you lying beside him in bed, tangled in the sheets after a night where neither of you could get enough of each other. You’d fallen asleep against his chest, your breaths steady, your body warm and safe in his arms. You’d looked like an angel then. 

You look like one now.

The memory soothes him, softens his tense shoulders, and before he realizes it, his head lulls back against the table, and sleep drags him under.

He’s back in Texas. The sky is gray, heavy with storm clouds, the streets eerily quiet. He knows this place—it’s the town where his world ended. Where everything fell apart.

Then he sees you, standing alone in the middle of the street. Your back is to him, and something about the way you stand makes his stomach twist.

“Y/N!” he calls out, his voice loud in the empty street.

You don’t respond.

He moves toward you, faster now. “Y/N!” he yells again, his voice cracking.

When he reaches you, his hand grips your shoulder, turning you toward him.

You scream.

His eyes lock on yours, and his heart stops. Blood coats your clothes, dark and endless, pooling beneath you. The shrapnel protrudes from your side, the bullet wound gapes in your shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, filled with pain and something he can’t bear to name.

“You keep leaving me to die, Joel,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible.

“No,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “No, I—”

Your body begins to crumple, and he catches you, pulling you into his arms.

“Please,” he begs, his voice breaking. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“I didn’t leave,” you gasp, blood staining your lips as you struggle to breathe. “You left me.”

Your body goes limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispers, his chest heaving with sobs. “No, no, no—please! Come back! I lo—”

He jolts awake, his heart pounding so violently it feels like it might burst. His breaths come in shallow gasps, and tears streak his face, hot and unchecked.

For a moment, he’s disoriented, the nightmare clinging to him like a suffocating shroud. But then he remembers. You’re here. You’re alive.

He scrambles to his feet and rushes to your side. His hands tremble as he presses two fingers to your neck, searching for your pulse. There it is—steady and strong. His eyes flick to your chest, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths. Relief crashes over him so forcefully his knees almost give out.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice raw, barely audible. “Stay with me. I know you didn’t leave. Just…stay now. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand lingers near yours, so close he could touch it, but he pulls back, afraid of how much he needs you. His head dips, his shoulders trembling as he fights to compose himself, to push down the storm of emotions threatening to overtake him.

But in the dim light of the room, with Ellie still asleep and you lying motionless beside him, Joel allows himself this one moment of vulnerability. He allows himself to grieve what he thought he’d lost, even as he clings to the hope that you’ll wake up and prove him wrong.

»»————————-««

Joel startles awake at the faint sound of your stirrings, the soft rustle of fabric snapping him out of his restless haze. In an instant, he’s by your side, his knees hitting the floor as he leans over you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused at first, but they slowly settle on him. The face you see is raw with worry, the lines on his brow deeper than you remember.

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice weak, barely audible.

“I’m here,” he chokes out, his voice thick with relief. “Oh, thank God, I’m here.” His hand cups the side of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as if grounding himself in the reality that you’re alive.

Last night, he’d begged—something he hadn’t done in years. He’d bargained with whatever higher power might still exist, offering up every part of himself if it meant you’d open your eyes. He’d have traded places with you in a heartbeat if it guaranteed you’d be okay.

“How long have I been out?” you murmur, attempting to push yourself up, only for your body to betray you. Pain shoots through you, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“All night,” he replies, his hands quickly bracing you before you can strain yourself further. “But you’re patched up. You’re gonna be alright.” His voice trembles ever so slightly, betraying the storm of emotions he’s fighting to contain.

Your eyes drift closed for a moment, overwhelmed by the effort of staying conscious. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Joel’s grip on you tightens. “Don’t apologize. Not ever,” he says firmly, the meaning of the words wavering in the air between you.

For a moment, you see something flash in his eyes—something finally unguarded. He looks at you like he’s still afraid to blink, like if he does, you’ll disappear again. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to keep it all in, but the emotions claw at him, desperate to be let loose.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admits, his voice rough and unsteady. His gaze drops, and for the first time, you see his armor crack. “I thought—” He stops, inhaling sharply, his fingers brushing against your temple. “I thought I...we lost you.”

His breath shudders, his whole body taut with the effort of holding himself together. Tears threaten, burning at the edges of his vision, but he refuses to let them fall. Instead, he hovers close—too close—his forehead nearly brushing yours before he catches himself.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he rasps, his voice barely more than a breath, fractured and desperate. “I can’t—I can’t lose you. Not again.”

It’s not a plea. It’s not a command. It’s the unguarded confession of a man who’s spent too long burying what he can’t bear to feel—until now.

»»————————-««

Taglist: @si1versamurai @eaterof-concrete @mysteriouslyperfecttiger @daybleedsintonightfa11 @rosey1981 @eaterof-concrete

[hobbitkiller]

Well, can’t say I’m surprised. I’ll definitely cover the other ones, but let’s start with the sex scene. Buckle in, ‘cause this is a long ramble.

Now, there are a lot of things to be said about this scene and some of the criticism thereof, such as equivocating going down with being subservient, the criticism a lot of people have toward Vi for not chasing after Jinx, and the argument that this was disregarding VI’s trauma from being in prison. I’m going to touch on the first and last a little here, but really have no desire to get into that Jinx-centric argument again, as I’m beyond tired of it.

For now, however, let’s talk about the narrative purpose of this scene, which is, in large part, to be a call back and contrast to when Cait and Vi first met. We know this is the intention because of how they mirrored several shots, such as Cait looking through the bars and Vi looking back over her shoulder.

Having a call back to where/how a couple first met isn’t a novel concept in storytelling. Sometimes it helps bring a couple together; sometimes it shows how they’ve drifted apart. It can be used to show how much they still love each other as well as how they’ve changed, for better or worse.

When it comes to the jail scenes, I think the main difference between the two scenes is trust. Maybe that’s not a revolutionary idea. After all, Cait says “In what mad world would I trust someone like you?” (complete with posh judgement and eye roll) in their first meeting. Arguably, their entire relationship is answering this question from both a Cait’s and Vi’s perspectives.

Trust is a major recurring theme in their relationship from Cait telling Vi they have to trust each other for this to work to their first argument about what they were hiding from each other at the Firelights camp to their argument about Jinx and Ambessa.

The first season, then, is all about building that trust between them. The second season is where it’s put to the test—and the sex scene is the final exam, designed to show how their relationship has grown and changed as explicitly as possible.

So, let’s go through a few beats.

Both start deliberately echoing each other. Cait looks through the bars at Vi who looks surprised to see her over her shoulder. However there are immediate differences. The lighting is the most obvious, but the perspective is also different. In season one, this meeting was mostly from Cait’s perspective—her going to the bowels of the scary dungeon to meet the dangerous, violent prisoner. In season two, we start with Vi—no longer framed as a caged animal but instead looking, for lack of a better word, forlorn.

So why the change?

Personally, I think it’s because the onus on who needs to prove themselves trustworthy has shifted. This isn’t to say Vi was bad or deserved to be in jail in season one, but, at the time, Cait was the one we had been following all episode on her righteous mission to fight crime and Vi was a loose canon. We didn’t know this new gown up Vi—we had yet to realize she was an adorable muscle-bound puppy.

Now it’s Caitlyn who needs to prove herself. Both had essentially agreed on that point in their argument. Just like we didn’t know what this new Vi would do in season one, we don’t know what this new Caitlyn is going to do in season two.

So let’s put a pin in that. Next beat: Vi expects to be hurt. In season one, Vi assumes this conversation is leading to a beating, and she braces herself for it by remaining guarded and sarcastic throughout—only revealing her nervousness when she rolls her shoulder hear the footsteps coming back.

Interestingly, in season two, we also get Vi hearing the footsteps, and we can imagine that, if there were going to be a trigger, that would be it. But it’s not a guard, it’s Cait. So, even though Cait hit her in the pipe works, it’s not physical pain Vi is worried about when she sees it’s Cait—it’s emotional and psychological. She is expecting Cait to berate her for letting Jinx go.

This is the tipping point. Their relationship can either completely fall apart here—doomed to fall victim to the cycle of mistrust and reprisals—or it can move forward.

Just like in the initial scene when she crosses the line—literally and metaphorically—it’s Cait’s move. In both, she is the one with the power here. In the first season, we knew Cait wouldn’t physically hurt Vi, but we don’t know her next move here. Now she has a choice, be the person Vi fears she could, or show that she can still be the person Vi fell in love with.

And what does Cait do? She doesn’t just cross the line this time; she fully enters the cell. She puts herself on equal ground with Vi, leaving the door open, and tells lets her know that she supports her—trusts her decision to let Jinx go.

When people talk about this scene giving Vi agency, this is a prime example. Vi could have turned and ran out the door after Jinx here (much to the delight of a certain part of the fandom that will never forgive Cait for giving Vi someone other than Jinx to care about). She could have restarted their argument. Cait is leaving it up to her.

She shows Vi she can trust her as she trusts Vi in return. In a violent world like Arcane, that means everything.

And so Vi is moved to act. She initiates because she is overwhelmed with love and passion and because Cait is super hot right now.

Trust and intimacy are inextricably linked, because you have to be vulnerable to be intimate. And what we get is an incredibly intimate scene where our intrepid heroes bare all, literally and figuratively, to each other for the first time. You get lovely little beats of uncertainty throughout—Cait when she first removes her top, Vi when Cait unsnaps hers.

The one interruption is Cait confessing her relationship with Maddie, but trust is one of the greatest enemies of jealousy. Vi trusts that right now, Caitlyn is hers.

For some concluding thoughts, I think what’s interesting in both scenes is that Cait sees Vi vulnerable in a way no other characters see her—caged, powerless, literally punching the wall. And, rather than take advantage as her haters would claim, she takes what power she has and immediately hands it to Vi.

Vi could have easily ditched Caitlyn after she let her go in the first season, and, as discussed, she could have done the same here. Instead, she puts herself in VI’s hands, letting her set the pace. Vi pleasing Caitlyn is not a degradation; it’s her taking the lead in one of the most intimate acts one can engage in.

TLDR: The two jail scenes are contrasting yet deeply similar explorations of vulnerability, power, intimacy, and trust. And, like any decent love story, they are about give and take.

Don’t know if it’s arrogant of me to ask. I’m obviously not the authority on Arcane, just an old nerd with many thoughts who still doesn’t quite know how to use tumblr., but I figured “why not?”

[electric-friend]

i’ve got so many unfinished fics in my drive and maybe even one published one where someone calls stede strong and brave for maintaining his softness even when life pushes back.

recently i feel like stede made a choice ed and izzy have both made in the past that they’ve always wished they never did, and stede could have been spared from. at the very least i think it hurt ed to see the version of himself he hates in stede. he probably thinks stede wanted to become that man for reasons other than stede has been bullied his entire life for being inadequate and told a man a bit like blackbeard is a real man.

call me crazy or whatever but i actually think a major thing that should be communicated between ed and stede is something on stede’s end. his trauma and his feelings and his issues. as it stands now, i don’t think ed understands what’s going on with stede. i don’t think he understands the person stede really wants to be. i don’t think he understands stede’s own issues of self-doubt and stede’s insecurities. hell i don’t think ed even has that much of a grasp of how unpopular and disliked stede has always been his entire life. and i think maybe if stede explained himself better, ed would understand more of what was going on. that he wouldn’t be seeing stede as manifesting something he wants to escape from, he would see stede as someone he needs to help escape with him.