#this is old and short but i miss them so i am posting

[pilonciillo]

i genuinely don’t know how i’m supposed to act at my age

[risingsunresistance]

TRUE!!! the original post was just made in reference to things that had inspired my own design and a wish to see more variety among the masked long-haired braided human designs that were absolutely DOMINATING the place at the time (nothing wrong with that, love those ones and i've drawn a few myself, just came from a perspective of missing seeing the truly unique designs that made me associate the design with the artist ;-;) but yea it definitely applies outside of just him. and outside of just pigs, looking at random animals can be a great reminder of how varied and weird some stuff can actually be :D

one of my favorite ocs, who i have drawn a grand total of two times bc i have been very lazy with art lately, actually ended up happening only because i got inspired by my own post fkjdhg

even tho it's a full year old at this point, still a pretty good drawing imo. i like his face :]

babirusa btw if you couldn't tell. he's a zombie piglin who has been withered :0

[thetriumphantpanda]

you'll just have to taste me | joel miller

Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.7K

Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.

You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.

It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.

But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.

“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.

He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.

“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”

You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.

“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.

“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”

He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.

“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”

“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”

“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”

“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.

“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”

He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.

You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.

“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.

“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.

“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”

“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”

He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.

“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.

He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.

You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.

Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.

“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.

“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.

“Terrible, really.” He responds.

“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”

[qwimchii]

i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><

pt 2, pt 3

Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.

of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.

setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 

the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.

— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?

— sure!! good to hear from you :))

— what time??

— 7.

it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.

stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.

definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.

you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.

“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”

“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 

“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.

when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”

then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—

“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”

“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.

then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”

just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.

“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”

you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.

“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.

when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.

“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.

that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.

in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.

you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 

he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.

it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.

she’s taken.

your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?

whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.

when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 

or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.

you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.

he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.

another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.

then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.

the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.

when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?

unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.

those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.

you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.

when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.

Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.

you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.

had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…

swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”

looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.

“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.

for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.

eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.

you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.

immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.

“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.

you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 

“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.

he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.

then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”

don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.

the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.

when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.

leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.

he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.

“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.

“i know you must be tired but—”

“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.

“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.

“s’reason why i’m here, love.”

at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.

“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.

closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.

“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.

once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.

you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.

from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.

“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.

“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.

you blushed. this was very very new.

he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.

playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”

you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.

“‘course.”

“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.

for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.

he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.

“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 

you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.

the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.

then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”

you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.

you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.

“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 

you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.

when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.

“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.

from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.

the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.

you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.

and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.

you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.

sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.

your mind spun. but you were so nervous.

it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.

words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?

when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.

what the hell is wrong with you?

you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.

“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.

“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.

“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”

sweet thing.

swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”

“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”

you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.

lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.

“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.

“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.

“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.

your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.

you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 

you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.

even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.

frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.

“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.

it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—

a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.

you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.

why were you crying?

brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”

you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.

you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.

and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.

then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.

“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.

your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.

“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.

“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.

clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 

“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”

he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”

“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.

“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”

a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”

you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.

“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”

his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.

“my ex boyfriend.”

his body went tense against you.

“look at me luvie.”

you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.

when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”

it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.

“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”

you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.

“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.

“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.

“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.

“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.

“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”

“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”

you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.

“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”

his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.

“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.

your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.

it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.

“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.

“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.

he huffed a laugh into your ear.

“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.

“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”

you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.

“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”

“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.

he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.

“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”

your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.

“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.

you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 

“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.

when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.

“think you can do that four more times, baby?”

when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”

taglist: @ivybeeloved

[wonderjanga]

No Need to Worry Over Sunshine

(This is connected to this short little post. This is also inspired @anastasiariley10123’s comment and @froginmygarden’s reblog of that post :D)

Marvel had been missing for a week. A whole week. He always comes to the Watchtower at least once a day! Yet hadn’t come all week! Anyone who messaged him on the communicators weren’t even getting any ‘:D’s too! They’re just getting ‘:)’s! Something was totally wrong. So imagine their surprise and slight horror when Flash went spilled some critical information when Clark and Hal came to relieve them from monitor duty.

After the monitor duty with Marvel…

Marvel: *dipped out so fast to not have to deal with the stares*

GL: *didn’t see the gray* “What’s with him?”

Supes: *peaks out of the monitor room to see Marvel turning a corner out of sight* “Is Cap alright?”

Flash: *sitting, wondering if Marvel is dying or something*

GL: “Wally…? Buddy? You good?”

Flash: “IthinkMarvelisdying.” *says super fast*

GL: “What?”

Supes: “What?!” *actually understood him*

Flash: “I think Marvel is dying.”

GL and Supes: *share a look*

Supes: “Wha- Why? Why do you think that?”

Flash: “Well, he’s going gray.”

GL: “Again, what?”

Flash: “And when I asked him about it, he nearly had a mental breakdown.”

Supes and GL: *share another look*

Supes: “Uhm… Did you ask him why he’s gray?

Flash: “Well, no, but-”

GL: *watching the monitors* “Aw shoot. Aliens in Metropolis.”

Supes, Flash, GL: *groans of annoyance*

Supes: “We’ll talk about this later.”

A little bit later…

JL: *just finished fighting the aliens*

Aquaman: “Geez, I can’t believe this is a weekly occurrence.” *looks at Marvel for a second before doing a double take* “What the hell happened to your hair?”

Marvel: “Huh? Uh…” *forgot to do a charm spell to cover the grey*

WW: “Brother, are you alright? You certainly shouldn’t be graying at your age.”

Other JL: *crowding Marvel in concern*

Marvel: “I mean, I am getting old Diana.”

WW: “Old? Brother you said you were nine.”

Flash: “Nine?”

WW: “Nine as in nine thousand years old.”

Marvel: “Uhm… Well, no. It’s more like nine…”

Solomon: “Go bigger, Billy.”

Marvel: “…hundred thousand.”

JL besides Marvel: *looks of utter shock (😟)*

Marvel: “So… yeah.” *awkward smile*

Flash: *sounds and looks horrified* “SO I WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE SO GONNA DIE!”

Marvel: “WHAT. No! I’m not gonna die! I have at least another hundred thousand years!”

They were all extremely relieved when they found that out. He’d outlive them all, which now that they thought about, was actually terrible for Marvel. But hey! At least he has a little lot of time left.

A little bit later…

Batman: “Were you a caveman?”

Marvel: “Hmm? Yeah.”

Also, someone recorded this entire interaction with a drone after the attack. People are calling him a silver fox now. He actually considered killing himself. (He said that outloud and the JL looked at him like 😨. Marvel: just kidding guys :D)

[inf3ct3dd]

HARD WORK.

summary: your grandmas retirement to hawaii finally let you escape the annoying city life. but as it turns out, being a country girl aint easy work. luckily a hot stranger with a truck full of rakes and hoes has taken a liking to you.

gardener abby x black!oc

warnings: I AM A FREAK FOR GARDENER ABBY. little bit of creepy perv behavior, stalking, SEX

wc: 4.6k

authors note: heyyy guys miss u 😈 if anyone gaf i’ll post a part 2 cuz yk how i be… ts long as hell

abby noticed your presence about a week after you had moved.

she had recognized the yellow house, a familiar sight when she went on her drives to clear her head. it was certainly a sight for sore eyes. it was one of only three houses on the block, recognizable by the pale paint and the burnt orange front porch. she often wondered how the owners maintained it, as it was full of plants and trees. a big front yard with wildflowers, a cherry tree by the garage, and flower pots galore. its gorgeous. she also dreamed of what was behind the big door to the backyard, but she could see the faint sight of green trees from the top of it. its a beautiful house, no doubt. and the foliage was always kept perfect. bushes trimmed, lawn mowed, and the trees left the perfect shade for the summer time. she’d love to work there, but it seemed that the owners had it under control.

until you moved in.

after a while, she noticed the lawn becoming slightly overgrown, the bushes losing their shape, and the tree was dropping cherries all over the adorable pink slug bug in the driveway. she had taken that the original owners had moved out, but she had no idea who had replaced them. and clearly, that replacement had no idea how to tend to that house.

and then, she finally caught sight of you.

it was around about 3:30, if she remembered correctly. give or take five minutes. she was on her usual drive, exhausted and irritated from having to tell a woman that her grass would take at least a month to grow back from its butchered state. a bad raccoon problem left the entire yard torn, holes and dead yellow grass everywhere. but she had that off her mind now. she turned on her car stereo, old dad rock silencing her thoughts as she drove. the road you have to take to drive by the house is basically inside the forest. big, green trees on each side, a bumpy gravel road, and big hills. it was always a smooth ride, and the cool breeze from her window was a relief after sweating for 5 hours straight. she always hung her left arm out of the window, so much so that its slightly tanner than the other.

when she finally got to the house, she forgot everything she was thinking about. she even forgot where she was for a moment, making her stop the car.

she finally caught gaze of .. you. bent over the grass, seemingly trying to weed the garden. all she could see of you was your ass, and she wasn’t exactly complaining about the view. the denim shorts you were wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. along with the booty shorts, (the name very fitting), you had on a green spaghetti strap that clung to you like a wet suit. you had clearly been out there for a while, sweat pooling on the shirt and a drop sliding down the obvious cleavage in your shirt. she tried so hard to pull away, to leave you alone and not be a creep, but she couldn’t. it was like everything was moving in slow motion as she was eyeing you, and she slowly made her way up to your face after staring at your tits for an inappropriate amount of time. you had thick, black curls, that were pulled up haphazardly into a high ponytail. probably to get it out of your way while you worked. its clear you take advantage of how remote your house is, sitting in the yard looking like that. its unsafe, what if a weird freak comes over and stares at you from his truck?

abby quickly realized that she was the weird freak in question. even with the headphones in your ears, you noticed the presence behind you. you felt the rumbling of the truck through the ground, given the fact you were barefoot. you turned around to look at her, moving a curl out of your eyes and behind your ear. you raised a brow at the truck, confused. you couldn’t make out the person inside, with your glasses resting on the porch. you squinted and saw a rough image of some..blond person? you stared for a while longer, almost considering walking up to them . what’re they looking at? were you that bad at gardening?

abby was frozen the second you turned around. she definitely stared longer than she should have, not even noticing that you were staring as well. you had a confused look on your face as you squinted over at her. it was almost as if you couldn’t see her. when she thought the two of you made eye contact, she instantly started driving away. she tried to pull away slowly, to not be suspicious, but she zoomed down the road like a derby horse.

fuck. did she see me?

almost as soon as you saw the car, it drove away. they must’ve noticed you caught them and got embarrassed. who is that? you had seen a blob that sort of looked like blonde hair, but not much else. it was hard to discern anything from that, so you focused on what you did see. you felt like you had seen the car before, but then again, so many people have black pickup trucks around here. and its not like it had any significant details you’d remember it by, it was just a plain truck. not even a funny bumper sticker or something! its like the exact opposite of your car, the back of your beetle is covered in cute stickers, and you even got heart shaped rims. their car was different. it was so…rugged. whoever it is probably does some sort of hard job, like construction or something.

you shrugged off the whole thing, getting a bit too sweaty for your liking and heading inside. you wondered to yourself if they’d stop by again, maybe you should keep an eye on your window!

while you were pondering over who the mysterious figure in the truck was, the figure herself was freaking out. she couldn’t stop imagining you on that lawn, seeing your confused face and glossy pout as you stared at her. did you even realize someone was looking at you? did you feel weird and scared now? was that the absolute most pervy thing she could’ve done?? and most importantly, would you notice if she did it again? she shook the thought as soon as it came. she was practically berating herself, mumbling “don’t be weird” under her breath. she tried to think about other things. the smell of the trees lining the road. the tree in your front yard. fuck, this is difficult.

eventually, she settled on thinking about your yard. she tried not to focus on the image of you bent over in front of it, and her behind you, and she slowly remembered something. you could not garden for shit. you had missed a bunch of huge strips mowing, the bushes were lopsided, and you were knee deep in weeds. it was obvious you had no idea what you were doing, and she knew it would be so easy to fix it.

“looks like you need some help.” she uttered from behind you on the front yard, and you turned around, puzzled.

“you think so?” you stared up at her, doe eyes nearly punching her in the chest. you were still sweaty, in the same tank top.

“yeah, you look hot. let me cool you off.” and with that, she grabbed at the bottom of the shirt. “can i”-

“abby. cut it out.” she pulled herself out of the daydream, realizing she had stopped her car once again. thankfully, the road was completely empty, so she kept driving. there wasn’t anything worth staring at over here, so she kept it pushing. freak.

she tried to push whatever happened earlier to the back of her mind all day. but its like she got hypnotized. she drove up to her house, and she stupidly expected to see you in her front yard. she went inside, and she wondered what the inside of your house looked like. does she have carpet? what color are her walls?

she quickly shut down the thought of “walls” as an…untasteful image appeared in her head. she took a shower, a near freezing one, and she imagined what type of showers you like. or if you were even a shower person, maybe you liked baths. you’d probably shriek if you stepped into the shower and it was the wrong temperature. she imagined you sitting on the edge of the tub, letting the water run over your fingers until it was justtt right. she imagined you sitting down in the tub, and - nothing. she didn’t imagine anything else.

she cooked herself some pasta for dinner, and sat down on her couch to eat. do you like spaghetti? she started thinking about that scene in the lady and the tramp, except you and her replaced the dogs. once again, she shut that down right after she started. she ate her food and threw her dishes in the sink, almost running to her bedroom. because she was tired. no other reason.

you had gotten a call from your grandma a little while after you went inside. you didn’t necessarily want to talk to anyone right now, but you owed it to her after she basically gave her house to you for free. she talked for what felt like forever, about her new house, the beach, everything. and after a million “really”s and “oh wow”s, she asked you to show her the house.

you showed her around the inside first, panning around the living room, kitchen, and all the rooms, she was very satisfied with how clean you kept the house. its easy to take care of when its just you making the messes, and not an aggravating messy roomate. you felt like a lonely housewife who’s husband left for war.

afterwards, you went out into the backyard. her smiling face turned into a confused grimace within seconds.

“honey, who did the lawn?” she asked, so much concern in her voice you’d assume she just walked in on a crime scene.

“i did! doesn’t it look good?” you chimed, confused on why she sounds like you’ve just killed a man.

“…no. it looks like a hot mess. you missed like, three spots! and lord, what did you do to my bushes?” she let out a loud sigh.

“…i trimmed them?” your pride was wiped off your face, a small frown replacing it.

“i don’t even wanna see the front. you know what, you need to find a gardener. someone. as long as its not you. ill pay for it myself, just…don’t touch anything.”

“at least my plants aren’t dead and the grass is still green.” she mumbled under her breath, hanging up the phone.

where the hell are you gonna find a gardener?

with your spirits crushed, you sat with your computer and your glasses resting on your nose, “how to fix a messed up lawn” reflecting on the glass. r/lawncare said to leave it and let it re-grow before mowing it again, evenly. wait at least a week or two and keep watering it. but don’t touch it.

so, you decided to listen. the gardener hunt could wait till later, you were sleepy. you ended up dozing off on the couch watching chopped, and you had forgotten all about it by the morning.

abby however, can’t forget anything.

after a long, sleepless night, abby was running out of things to distract herself. why was she going borderline insane over some random girl? she’s seen hot girls before. were you a witch or something?

she went through her day with the same irritating questions going through her head. what does she listen to when she drives? what does she order at the coffee shop? whats her name?

she realized by the time she was on her lunch break she needed to answer at least one of her questions. she already knew where you lived, whats the harm in knowing your name?

she had slightly known your grandma, only the fact that they owned the farm that was down the road from the house. and that it was named after their last name. small town advantage, am i right?

after googling the last name, a facebook profile showed up. presumably exactly who she thought it was. she scrolled through pictures of her at the beach, on family vacation, unfunny memes,and a post that made her chuckle for a whole minute.

she knew she was in the right place now.

after scrolling for a while longer, she found exactly what she was looking for: a picture of you and the woman, your arm slung around her shoulder. you looked like you were at a wedding, all dolled up in a green satin dress with your hair down. you were wearing glasses, too.

“so she probably didn’t see me.”

you looked just as gorgeous as yesterday, and the picture was captioned “my beautiful granddaughter r ♥️💐😘🥰” and there was many more of her old lady friends and relatives calling you gorgeous. didn’t she know it.

she typed the name , your name, into facebook yet again, and there you were. the profile picture was of you as a baby, little black curls pulled into two pigtails as you grabbed at the camera with a cheesy smile. albeit, you only had two teeth, but it was definitely a smile. you’ve just always been cute, huh?

she looked down at the bio, and found everything else she needed to know. whos idea was it to make people give facebook all their personal information?

it was obvious this account was just for family, as it was mostly just reposts of your relatives posts and pictures she would deem “family friendly.” but the pictures were mostly of things other than you, like cats and pretty buildings you saw. it gave off the perfect, innocent impression to anyone who’d come across it.

but after finding your facebook, it didn’t take her much longer to find your instagram. and your tiktok. and your tumblr from when you were in highschool? maybe she was digging a little too deep.

your instagram wasn’t that stark of a contrast to your facebook. add a little more cleavage, and a much more active..social life, and it was basically the same. you hadn’t posted much with your friends in a while though, only stills of your plane and you relaxing in your new home. tough time making friends over here?

she snooped even more into your following, and at first there wasn’t anything really interesting. some music artists you liked, random cat accounts, and baking accounts. cute. but, after a while, she recognized something. the name of the place you worked at that she saw on your facebook. a veterinary office. the profile mostly had pictures of cats and dogs and some smaller animals, but when she saw a post about the offices pet fundraiser, she immediately recognized your face. cheesy smile, holding up a small kitten to your cheek. it was adorable.

she looked up the address in the account’s bio, and she saw that it was a 5 minute drive from her house. perfect coincidence. alice would love to take a walk after work today, wouldn’t she?

her snooping was interrupted by the alarm she had set for the end of her break. startled, she slightly jumped out of her seat before swinging her door open and plopping her phone in her back pocket. she knew what her plans for this afternoon were.

while abby was scheming up her stalkerish plans, you were just.. bored. you sat at the front desk, doodling one of the dogs you saw come in earlier with one earbud in your ear, fleetwood mac giving you soft background music to the emptiness of the lobby. with it being tuesday and all, it wasn’t very busy. your shift didn’t end for a few hours though, and you would rather be bored than busy.

you decided to people watch outside the window for a bit. you saw an old lady walking around with another old lady, holding coffee cups from the cafe down the street. they were engrossed in conversation, and you tried to lip read, but could only make up a few nonsensical words before they disappeared out of your view. a man walked by with his disgruntled teen daughter, headphones pulled over her ears with an annoyed grimace. once again, it looked like the father was saying something, but you had no idea what.

after a few more people walked past, you saw someone who actually…caught your eye. it was a tall blonde woman, hair weaved neatly into a braid that rested on her right shoulder. she had on a black tshirt that showed of her toned arms, and grey cargo pants with green grass stains on them. you tried to glance at her face, but she was facing the side. all you could really see was the outline of her curved nose, and the soft shape of her lips. her side profile looked perfectly carved, like a statue. she had on black over the ear headphones too, and she was holding a leash to a big german shepherd. shes hot, and she has a dog? you subconsciously started fixing your hair, just in case she was walking in here. she stopped near the door, and you nearly pounced to greet her. but your excitement was cut short when you saw her walk slightly further, and pull out a small stack of papers and a roll of tape. was she putting up fliers?

you watched her place one on the light post outside your building, holding the tape in her mouth as she did so. you tried hard not to drool all over your desk as you watched her. you couldnt make out what the paper said as she walked away, and you wasted no time going outside to see what it was.

and when you finally approached it, you felt as god himself was giving you an offering. the flier read "abby anderson gardening services.” there was a small graphic of a pretty flower, and an even more captivating image of the woman who had put up the flier. abby, that’s a sweet name.

you quickly ripped off one of the small pieces of paper on the bottom of the flier, placing it in your sweater pocket before skipping back into your work gleefully. a hot girl who was gonna save you from your gardening dilemma? somebody pinch you.

abby hadn’t had the smallest confidence her plan had worked. her heart was practically beating out of her chest, and the questions kept on pouring in. did she even see? will she even notice? what if she did see, and she recognized me as the freak who was ogling her outside her house? she planned all this perfectly. she spent 3 hours last night making those stupid fliers. scrolling through a million different fonts, searching through her camera roll for good pictures, she needed it to be as believable as possible. she had parked her truck well out of view a few blocks away, carried extra fliers, and brought alice with her to try and hide her true intentions. normal gardener walking her dog and putting up fliers, thats all she was. definitely not a weirdo that saw a girl pruning her front yard and got so hot and bothered that she devised a whole plan that would maybe get her to call her.

she shook her head, practically trying to shake away her thoughts, and she kept on walking.

you were telling yourself that you’d call her right when you got off work.

and after sitting on your bed for 5 minutes staring at her number typed into your phone, it was tomorrow.

and then tomorrow, it was the day after that.

the fear made absolutely no sense to you. you’re calling a gardener! whats the worst shes gonna say? ‘oh no, im not gardening for you because you’re stupid and also im going to run you over with my lawn mower.’ its her job to do this!! you had even saved her number in your phone as “hot gardener” so you wouldn’t forget her.

you were silently hoping that youd see her around somewhere. she’d approach you, start some dumb conversation, suddenly bring up the fact that shes a gardener, and then you get your “really? i’ve been looking for one!” moment. perfect meet cute.

but its like she vanished into thin air.

every time you went to work, or even out shopping, you were dolled up for no reason. wearing shirts with extra cleavage, making sure you have on lipgloss constantly, you were not taking any chances. even when you were doing the most mundane activities, you swiped on a layer of mascara before you left the house. just in case. but your luck wasn’t striking you at all. does she not live in the neighborhood?

abby definitely lived in the neighborhood. after checking her flier and seeing a missing phone number, she spent the whole night waiting for her phone to ring. she did anything and everything to try and keep her busy, which included cleaning her entire apartment and stalking your instagram. you had posted a picture of your cat on your story. cute.

after almost 5 hours of waiting around, she was pacing around her living room like a tiger in captivity. every notification she got she pounced at her phone, but she was continuously disappointed. no manny, i don’t want to go out tonight. dont ever text my phone again and also i hate you.

it was around 12:45 when her phone finally rang. she picked up instantly, barely letting it ring. she cleared her throat and tried to feign nonchalance in her voice. but instead of your sweet voice asking about her lawn, it was a telemarketer. she threw her phone on the couch and collapsed on her floor. it was gonna be a long night..

the next day, she knew she needed to check on you. what if something had happened? or, worse, what if you weren’t even the one who took the phone number? she came back the same way she did the first time she saw you, driving a liiiittle too slow past the vet office. and low and behold, you were perfectly fine. sat at the front desk talking to some girl with a cat. and when she looked at the flier, there was still only one slip missing. maybe you forgot?

she drove away, a childish pout on her face. it was pathetic , really.

when she was at the grocery store on the second day of waiting , that she definitely didn’t drive an extra five minutes to because it was close to you, she nearly had a heart attack when she saw you in the cereal aisle. cute hoodie and shorts on with your hair down. you seemed like you were having a hard time deciding between two cereals, holding the boxes next to each other and squinting. she imagined herself going up to you and delivering some smooth one liner about cereal that she was still trying to come up with, and carrying your groceries and you to your car. but as much as she wanted to, she kept her distance. heavily. she was looking around every five minutes like a shoplifter so she wouldn’t bump into you.

but not touching didn’t mean she couldn’t look. she saw you finally chuck the fruity pebbles into your basket, squeeze half the mangos on the display before picking one, and you last minute deciding to buy a pack of gum when you were checking out. she tried her hardest to not be jealous of the scrawny bag boy you smiled at, and when she finally saw you check out, she remembered she was supposed to be getting stuff for dinner. shit.

and the day after that, when she stopped at the gas station by your street because it was ‘cheaper’, she recognized your beetle in two seconds. she watched you step into the little mini market, clad in a pair of jean shorts and a random t shirt from a theme park , and she watched you walk out with a bag of hot cheetos as she pumped her gas. she had gotten a closer look at your bumper stickers, and she saw a small heart with a sunset flag. she couldn’t help but do a little fist pump when she got in her car.

none of her research was giving her any clarity though. she kept driving past her flier, day after day, and not a single other person had picked up a slip. was it even you who took it? are you gonna hire some other stupid gardener you found on your phone?

and on the third day, she had stayed home. she was beginning to give up hope you’d ever call, and she would never make a move first. especially if you had accidentally seen her on one of her little ventures. so, she cleaned her house again. she even dusted, thats how bored she was. the thoughts of you were constantly plaguing her. she almost took up mannys offer to go out tonight, try and get her mind off things.

but her mind stayed in the exact same place. her mind replayed the memory of you in the lawn yet again. she remembered the sweat dripping down your chest, the way your shorts were riding right up your thighs. she shoved her hand down her pants and imagined that they were yours.

she remembered how nice and smooth your voice sounded on the videos she saw. even though you never said much, even her imagining it made her even wetter. she kept rubbing her middle finger up and down her clit, picturing you whispering in her ear.

“you’re such a fucking creep. you keep watching me at work, following me around, and now you’re fucking yourself to me? we’ve never even met. you’re acting like a desperate slut for some random girl, you’re not embarrassed?”

the dialogue she was imagining in her head was getting her further and further. she almost imagined you saying it, the voice being strange and inconsistent to her. still, she moved faster, hearing the noise her slick covered fingers made as she moved. she kept letting out heavy breaths, flexing her hips upwards onto her hand.

“you know, you could’ve just come up to talk to me. how pathetic are you? can’t even talk to a girl?”

she imagined your breath on her neck, watching her. if she focused enough, she could feel the indent in her bed of you next to her. she started moving even faster, letting out loud moans as she pressed down on her clit even harder. she arched her back as she did, pushing her head against her headboard. she could feel the pressure building in her lower stomach, and she was practically humping her hand. she got sweatier and sweatier, the blanket covering her lower half not making it any better.

“are you really this desperate? you could-“

abbys fantasy was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing next to her. right when she was close. fuck. she nearly abandoned the phone call, but then the thought crossed her hazy mind. what if it was you?

so she wiped her hands on her boxers , took a deep breath, and answered her phone.

she tried not to get her hopes up, worried it might be another telemarketer. annoyed at the fact that she gave up cumming for some random person.

“hello? is this..-abby?”

[bbokicidal]

"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]

Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]

Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader

Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!

Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.

These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.

Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work

The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.

It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --

It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.

Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school

A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.

Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.

He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.

It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.

Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend

Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.

You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.

Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.

You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.

The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.

Hyunjin - He cheats online

It started with the fucking instagram models.

Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.

He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.

You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.

He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.

Han - He cheats while on tour

He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??

He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.

Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.

You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.

Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.

Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)

Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know

Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.

He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.

You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.

He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.

"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"

I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee

It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.

She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.

He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.

You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.

"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."

He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."

Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.

"Oh, mate..."

Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (1)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Emily Scott, sister of legendary lionesses Jill Scott, has died at the age of 21. Wife Amelia Scott-Higgins in intensive care. 

Police have confirmed that Emily Scott was murdered in her family home over the weekend, her wife, Matilda’s star Amelia Scott-Higgins is in intensive care after sustaining life threatening injuries. 

Waking up in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages and in heaps of pain was not exactly how I expected my day to go but here we are. I don’t remember much. I remember going home after training, I stopped to get dinner, chicken carbonara and garlic bread from our favourite Italian restaurant and then flowers from the corner stand that Emily was obsessed with. I was already late so who cares if I was a little extra late. 

I remember the front gate being open, which is never normally the case, I remember the front door being unlocked but closed, again not normal but sometimes Em is in a rush when she gets home. As I took my shoes and coat off and wandered down the hallway, I didn’t notice the guy standing behind the door, or the guy on the couch, or Emily in the back room tied to a chair. I didn’t notice any of it. The only thing I noticed before it went black was the two wine glasses, one tipped over and smashed, the other full. 

Chelsea FC superstar, Amelia Scott-Higgins has QUIT mid season. 

CLICK TO READ MORE….

Where is football superstar Amelia Scott-Higgins?

Moving to Barcelona was the best thing I could’ve done. No one knows me,no one knows what happened or who Emily was. I am invisible. As soon as I could, I quit, left England, deleted all my social media and changed my number. 

The rehab was incredibly hard. That’s to be expected considering I have multiple stab wounds to my stomach, my leg cut up, bruises covering every part of my body. I was still me though. Maybe not on the surface but deep down I was. I missed Emily everyday, I missed our life together, I miss the little things. 

My apartment was empty. Nothing on the walls, plain furniture, it looked more like a show house than something someone would actually lived in. It didn’t bother me, it made my brain have to work less. All I did was rehab, surf and doom scroll. I came across the Manuelas instagram page, a gay bar in Barcelona. From what I’ve heard it’s incredibly popular but I’ve never been. They had a shirt available, “lesbian services”, after inquiring they allowed for me to pick it up. 

I was meeting someone called Olga, slightly worried as I had no idea who she was, I let it play out. 

“Hola! Are you Amelia?” 

“Hola, yes I am.” 

“Perfect! I’m Olga! Let me take you inside and you can get whatever you want. They said you’ve paid so you can get anything.” 

Stickers, hats, shirts, they had it all. I grabbed one of everything and then had a chat with Olga. 

“You’re not around here are you? Your Catalan and Spanish is good but the accent is a bit weird.” 

“Oh nah. I’m Australian. Lived in London for a few years but I’m here now.” 

“Oh wow! How long have you lived here?”

“3 years now. It’s beautiful. I don’t get out much but I’m trying to get out more.”

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Uh um, I used to play -“ 

“Amelia? Is that you?” Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze. Right in front of me. I haven’t seen them for 3 years, purposely ignoring all of them and essentially falling off the face of the earth. 

“Amelia! What are you doing here? Give me a hug!” 

“Hey guys. Long time so see.” This is not what I wanted. More and more people started surrounding us. 

“Holy shit. That’s Amelia Scott-Higgins! She’s been MIA for so long. I miss watching her” the short one with dimples tried to whisper, it didn’t work. 

“Dude she used to be so good. What happened?” Her taller companion asked next. 

“That’s enough you two. She has ears and can hear you idiots.” Alexia Putellas. 2 time Ballon d’or and 2 time pain in my ass. “Hola Amelia. How are you?” 

“Fine thanks Alexia. And you?” 

“How do you all know each other? I am very confused here.” Olga spoke up. 

“Mil used to play for-“ Alexia started to say

“We are old friends!” This is why I don’t leave my house. 

“I need to go. I have things to do. Olga thank you so much for all this. If I owe any money let me know. Alexia, girls, it was nice to see you. Good luck this season.” Turning as quickly as I could to escape. 

“Milly, wait.”

“Kei, don’t. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Please can I have your number or something? It’s been 3 years and you disappeared.” 

“Give me your phone and I’ll put it in. I’m not good at replying. Bye Kei.” 

3 years since I stepped foot in England, 3 years since I buried my wife. 3 years since I’d spoken to my friends. 4 years since Emily died. 4 years since I played football, 4 years since I felt normal. 

[nipuni]

Hello time to yap about life and media again! 🥰

It's been a month and a half since we fully moved into this new old house and it's been a steep learning curve!! so far we had to learn how to care for a garden and grow fruit, how to deal with extremely humid weather, the mold!! also learning about various repairs, electricity and plumbing, we had a leak that turned one lamp into a waterfall, the rcd keeps tripping every time it rains, had to fix a door in the dark after Nicolas got himself trapped in a room when the handle broke during a power outage, the heating system is an air to water heat pump and it took us ages to figure out how to set it up correctly so we spent weeks wearing 3 layers inside the house, I even fell down the stairs!! I'm not used to having stairs inside the house lmao It's a big adjustment when you've always lived in small apartments in big cities all your adult life, but to be honest we love it!! everything feels like a new quest for us to tackle and it is so much fun figuring it all out as we go, reading technical manuals by candle light, the teamwork of installing and assembling furniture and networks, pruning the trees, celebrating every small mundane accomplishment and new skill learned every night over dinner, I may be corny as hell but it all feels like a privilege and an adventure 😭

Media wise we watched the second season of Arcane! This series never fails to make me fall in love with art again, not that I've ever fallen out but I can't say that the whole AI debacle hasn't been ass for the morale. Aesthetically it is a masterpiece. The character design, the cinematography, the mixed media montages aaaa Seeing the work, the skill and care that was put into every frame reminded me of how important and human the storytelling aspect of art really is. I wonder if we will see a shift to the more story driven or conceptual arts when we look back on this period, but I ramble, back to Arcane. I have mostly praise for it, wonderful characters and very touching relationships. I think our only issues were with the pacing being too slow at the start, every character climbing out of a very low point, and then too fast which made the second half feel a bit rushed. This season also felt a bit more tropey than the first one but still really solid. It remains one of the best animated series ever made and I am so happy to see it succeed in this current environment 😭 It feels like teenagehood condensed into a show, we really enjoyed it. I hope we get a season 3!!

Also there was an update in our David Tennant filmography quest! we watched The Politician's Husband and unsurprisingly we loved it!! It was gripping and the acting was brilliant. It is actually what I was expecting Rivals to be like, I realize 🤔 I think it could have used a 4th episode, felt like it ended too quickly and there was room for more, as if they ran out of time to tie things up so they picked the quickest route. But it was really good!! These miniseries are always so engaging and so short, I need mooreee.

We missed our DT nights!! Nicolas spent the last week hunting for more of David's work for us to watch. We've been hosting family for a few days again last week and on top of work and everything else we had to pause them for a bit. But now we are back to our nightly routine and he's over the moon!! Instant mood boost it's embarrassing lmao both of us falling this hard for this guy is too enabling, he even made his name our guest wifi password, we are besotted 😂

Oh! I also I saw a Veilguard Q&A was happening and read a few replies I saw posted here, and it proved to be a huge mistake! It was a disappointing and truly infuriating read. What even happened during the production of this game lmao How come the average fan seems to have a much better grasp on the lore, characters and plot than the people who made it 😭 There is this gaping disconnect between intent and execution. The way that fans are trying to make sense and give meaning to the complete mess that is the writing in an attempt to salvage and preserve the aspects they loved about it is saddening. I am mentally throwing tomatoes at John Epler as we speak. His answers felt so unserious and baffling at best and offensive and petty at worst. It's been eye opening, I could go on a two hour rant but the more I learn and dwell on it the more bitter I become about it all and I'm already seeing ten year old discourse resurface and people getting weird about it so I'll just ..🚶‍♀️ In my eyes this world and it's characters now belong only to those who love it and lives in my memory 🫡

Anyway, this ended up being at least twice as long as I was planning to make it again 😭 and I still have to catch up with asks aaaa it's been a busy month sorry I'll get to them soon!! Thank you for reading and for the support and for just being here!! I hope you all have a great week 🥺❤️

[urrockstar-xe]

precious - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 27th, 2023 8:14 am

anon asked: hello!! I’m a sucker for a little angst ending with fluff, so could you maybe write a jj maybank x girlfriend where they have a fight right before bed and he goes to sleep on the couch but they can’t sleep without each other/being mad at each other so one of them goes to the other to apologize?

sorry for the wait love :( I hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

“It’s like you never learn JJ!” your voice rang in his ears in a similar fashion as his rang through yours

“Learn what, Y/n? That I’m gonna die young anyway? It wasn’t even that fucking bad!” and if this were a cartoon the words would be coming right back out as steam. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done worse alright?” JJ added, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not about that JJ! You could’ve died! I need you around!” It was as if he totally skipped over your last four words as he scoffed, “I get it, I’m an idiot who doesn’t know better are you fuckin done yet? Actually, fuck this, I’m sleeping at JB’s” JJ grabbed his backpack on his way out of your house, not missing your calls for him just ignoring them, as he hopped onto his bike and left your sight in what felt like seconds. 

You didn’t try to conceal the frustration and hurt you felt, all of it spilling out in angry sobs and violent strings of swear words. 

The same stupid argument always stumped you and JJ, no matter how many short apologies and tears you guys go through, the argument of how precious JJ’s life was always took the cake for the biggest challenge in your relationship. 

Yet you still worried about how high he’d get tonight or how much of John B’s beer he’d drink and how safe he’d be even if John B’s was merely a 7-minute walk from yours, you always worried about JJ.

How could you not when he was as reckless as he was? 

A few hours went by of pacing your room, checking your phone for “baby, I love you” apology texts, and pretending not to realize the worried gaze your older brother gave you whenever you left your room to use the restroom, before you realized it was 1 in the morning and you still hadn’t been able to go to sleep, despite having woken up at 6 am for work the previous day. 

With a heavy sigh and eye roll at the realization that you’d have the give in first, you got up, throwing on one of JJ’s old jackets he left and your shoes before leaving out your front door in a rush and practically running to John B’s having memorized the way there.

You accepted the curse of not being able to sleep without JJ by your side and when a half-asleep John B opened his door, you knew he had heard an earful as he let you inside wordlessly, “he’s out back” John B motioned towards the back door, giving you a nod as a silent good luck before moving back to his room. 

You made your way to the back door, hesitating momentarily before grabbing the doorknob and opening it, making your way back out into the cold. You were almost instantly met with the beautiful sight of your boyfriend, lying on the hammock and watching the stars, mindlessly playing with his lighter. 

You wordlessly made your way to him, both you and JJ ignoring the sound of the grass under your sneakers until you sat down on the edge of one of the old lawn chairs, hugging your legs to your chest in an attempt to find warmth. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual tone. 

“Not without you” You responded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when JJ finally looked in your direction. “Me too” 

“I know” he nodded at your words, of course, you knew. 

“C’mere, pretty baby,” JJ said, his voice quiet, tossing his lighter somewhere in the dirt, pretending he wouldn’t have to find it tomorrow. You stood up, almost too fast for your liking before settling into the hammock next to him, gravity pushing you into his side and his arm falling around you seamlessly, or at least you told yourself it was gravity. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you” You whispered into his shoulder, pressing kisses into the fabric of his hoodie, all of your stubbornness flying out the window once his familiar scent filled your nose.

“I’m sorry I yelled back, and for being an idiot” JJ whispered, breathing as if he was trying to learn how. “You’re not an idiot, J” Your fingers instinctively played with the drawstrings of his neck, unknowingly bringing a sense of comfort to your boyfriend. 

“I just,” you sighed before continuing, cursing at yourself for how you teared up. “I just wish you realized how precious you are to me” You whispered, barely audible. 

But JJ heard it clear as day. 

“I’m sorry-” He started but you cut him off, “You can’t be sorry for something like that, you weren’t taught any better.” You choked out, not missing the way his lips found your hair when he realized you were crying, comforting kisses hitting your hairline. 

“If I could go back in time and teach you how much you were worth I would in a heartbeat” Your words made JJ pause his actions, his arm tightening ever so slightly around you. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, JJ” You shrugged as much as you could without disrupting the hug. 

“Can’t even sleep without you” You mumbled through a quiet laugh, earning one in return from JJ, alongside a few sniffles. 

“We’re good right?” he asked quietly, gently running his fingers up and down your arm. 

“As if this would be the thing that makes us break” I scoff, earning another laugh. 

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed before JJ spoke once more, “Can we go inside? Freezin’ my balls off out here”

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi! could you write a chloe x red x fem!reader (ben's younger sister) imagine where the reader is sick and they take care of her?

Sick Days | Chloe Charming & Red

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red x fem!reader (Ben's!younger!sister!reader)

Summary: Being sick certainly isn't fun. Luckily, girls are always ready to take care of you.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, like really short fic, sickness, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: My Wi-Fi sucked the whole day yesterday AND today, so I'm only posting this now even though I wanted to yesterday. Anyways, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!

The Isle of the Lost was a place where shadows clung to every cracked cobblestone, and love was a rarity. But you, Ben's younger sister, had always been drawn to the unexpected—the way Chloe's laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and the way Red's eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Your secret relationship with both Chloe and Red was a delicate dance.

Chloe, the daughter of Cinderella, was fierce, but a true softly and she was never afraid to show it. Her blue hair fell in curls, and her eyes held secrets she'd never share.

Red, on the other hand, was all brooding intensity—the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, tuff nature with eyes filled with determination, but with a big golden heart.

One chilly evening, you stumbled upon their dorms. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw you, shivering and pale.

"You're burning up," she said, her voice gentle like always. "Red, we need to take care of her."

Red grunted, but there was concern in her eyes. She pulled you closer, wrapping you in a blue and yellow blanket.

Chloe brewed a cup of herbal tea, her fingers deft as she stirred in honey and whispered incantations for healing.

"You're lucky we found you," Chloe said, her fingers brushing against your forehead. "We're not exactly known for our nurturing skills."

Red scoffed, but she stoked the fire, making sure you were warm. She pulled out an old book—a relic from Auradon—and began reading aloud. Her voice was deep, resonant, weaving tales of magic and redemption. You leaned against her, feeling the fever slowly go away.

Chloe sat on the other side, humming a soothing melody. Her touch was tender as she traced patterns on your arm.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, surrounded by two unlikely protectors, you believed her. The Isle might be harsh, but love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. Chloe and Red took turns caring for you—Chloe with her potions and Red with her stories. They stayed by your side, their hearts entwined with yours.

Days blurred into nights, and you drifted in and out of fever dreams. Chloe braided your hair, and Red traced intricate patterns on your hair. They argued about the best way to break the curse that plagued the Isle, their voices rising and falling like a symphony.

When you finally opened your eyes, weak but alive, Chloe pressed a kiss to your forehead. Red grunted, but her hand found yours, rough and steady.

"You're stuck with us," she muttered.

And you realized that maybe, just maybe, the Isle wasn't so dark after all. One of them almost came from it. Love had found you in the unlikeliest of places—in the arms of a villain's daughter and a scarred hero.

As you recovered, you vowed to protect this fragile connection, to let it bloom like a forgotten flower pushing through the cracks.

And so, hidden in their dorms, surrounded by whispers of magic and the warmth of two hearts, you healed.

Chloe and Red became your anchors, and you, their shared secret—the missing piece that completed their fractured souls.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @cyb3r-st4r @heartsfromcoco @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid

[officialspec]

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next listen listen to me i dont think he would ever actually examine this but i need u to put on ur tin foil hat with me for one second. i think estrogen could have saved her. i have more thoughts on this but im not gonna propagandise too much on this post just know that im right

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

[levisolace]

am i making you feel sick? (zayne x f!reader)

WC: 15,691 Pairing: zayne x reader, subtle sylus x reader Warnings: graphic depictions of illness Genre: Angst, (Possibly) Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease AU Summary: You escape Linkon to heal from the deadly Hanahaki Disease, your unspoken love for Dr. Zayne threatening to consume you from within. Note: Hi! I had this in my drafts for a while since Sylus came out. Figured to finally post it. Here's my first LaDs fic. Hope you all like it. This is only a one-shot btw.

ao3 link

You don’t know when it started. Maybe it was over the meals you’ve shared, or when you began to know much more about him, how he loved sweets, how he graduated half the time it should’ve, or maybe it’s just how truly and deeply kind and caring he is. In the stolen glances you gave him whenever he was in your presence, you admired how beautiful he was. His raven black hair, hazel green eyes, and broad shoulders. Oh, his beautiful shoulders. It was your dream to have your hands running through them. 

It was perfect. You two shared a history from your childhood and more than a decade later, you were brought back once again in your adult years. Like it was fated. Like stars have aligned for the two of you. Maybe it was the knowledge of the “you meet people twice theory” that made your delusion worse. Maybe it was when you began to think of scenarios of you and him before you went to sleep at night. 

To make it short, you don’t know when you started falling in love with your primary care physician, Dr. Zayne. 

It was fun at first, the idea of falling in love. He is your friend, no matter how busy he is, if he can, he gives his free time to you. In the midst of all of that, you began to question yourself if the way you see him was more than a friend. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself blushing at every interaction, every text, every post and comment he made, and every doctor appointment whenever he would even slightly touch you. Your heart rate sped up and he probably noticed that too. You were practically transparent with how easy you are to read.

He was the total opposite.

He’s stoic and unreadable. Half of the time, you don’t know if he’s serious or joking. Most of the time, it’s the former. He would always find ways to scold you on how you take care of yourself. 

Still, you hoped. You made yourself believe that underneath all that caring was an underlying emotion that comes as more than a physician and a friend. And so you let yourself fall into that deep abyss of longing. Love. It’s such a common word, one that is used lightly but holds the weight of the world and humanity. 

But you couldn’t be more wrong.

You stepped out of the cab and onto the rain-slicked pavement of Linkon, the familiar hum of the city wrapping around you like an old friend. The night was young, but the streets were already alive with their own rhythm—flashes of neon lights, distant sirens, and the ever-present murmur of conversations blending into a cacophony that was both chaotic and comforting.

You tugged your leather jacket tighter against the cool evening breeze, your thoughts racing faster than your heartbeat. After weeks in the field—tracking elusive prey through shadowed forests and braving the bite of unforgiving weather—returning to the city was like slipping into a well-worn pair of boots. But tonight, the excitement in your step had nothing to do with the urban landscape you missed. It was all about the man waiting for you at the clinic.

Dr. Zayne had been a constant in your thoughts even while you were miles away, slinking through the underbrush and facing dangers of wanderers. Your encounters were always memorable, punctuated by shared glances and conversations that left you with a giddy sense of longing.

Your boots clacked against the pavement as you hurried down the street, the soft patter of rain masking her footsteps. You reached the glass door of the clinic, pausing for a moment to smooth your hair and then pushed inside. 

The lobby was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lights and the soft hum of a vending machine in the corner. You approached the reception desk, where a young woman was looking up with a smile. 

“Hi, I’m here to see Dr. Zayne,” you tell her. 

“Ah, Miss (L/N), right?” the receptionist asked. You’ve probably been here too many times to not be known. Is that a bad thing? Probably. But you don’t mind.

You nod. “Ah, I think Dr. Zayne stepped out for   dinner,” she informs you. “You can wait here. He should be coming back soon.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you,” you replied, giving her a smile. 

You cursed to yourself. You probably shouldn’t have tried to surprise him with your unprecedented visit and just texted him beforehand. It’s still pretty early for his usual dinner time despite it being dark already. With how busy and needed he is in the hospital, it resulted in him having inconsistent meal times, very much similar to your line of work. You hoped to catch him before he ate and ask him out for a meal like you always do. But that’s not happening tonight. 

As you wait patiently in the lobby while looking through social media posts on your phone, a nurse you know well approached you and called you by your name. You look up to see Yvonne smiling at you. You gave her a genuine smile back, happy to see an acquaintance. 

“Hey Ms. Hunter, you here for Dr. Zayne?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I heard he’s out for dinner. I just got back from a mission and wanted to see him because I had to skip an appointment during the week,” you inform her.

She places her hand in the pockets of her scrub as she thinks, her eyes widening for a moment when she remembers. “Yeah, I think he ate dinner with Dr. Emma.” 

“Dr. Emma?” The unfamiliar name rolls off your tongue in a bad way. This is the first time you’ve heard of her. 

“Yeah, she’s a new doctor who transferred here a while ago. A genius doctor too, maybe that’s why she quickly hit it off with Dr. Zayne,” she pouts. 

That’s when your heart sank. A dinner date. The words echoed in your mind, crushing the small spark of hope you had been nurturing. You forced a smile as Yvonne excused herself out of the quick conversation, dropping it as quickly as she fades from your view. 

Just like that, your excitement bubbled down into an unknown pain. It was like humiliation but something else completely. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you even if no one was watching you—like they knew you were here for Zayne but he was already with another woman. But they don’t know that. You’re just another patient here. Thinking of that truth should’ve comforted you. But somehow, it felt worse. 

With a heavy heart, you went back to your apartment without seeing the doctor you were waiting for.

One sad dinner by yourself later, you found yourself lying on your bed, the exhaustion of the preceding mission finally dawned on you. The adrenaline of excitement has worn out, leaving you with a heavy feeling of disappointment and body ache. 

Your phone dinged with a notification and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to move a limb. It’s a wonder how you never felt this way after a mission before even if you were injured. It’s like something was weighing you down but you couldn’t pinpoint where. 

The phone dinged a few times more and you ignored it, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. You guess it was just the group chat from work. Tomorrow and the weekend are your days off anyway. They can forgive you for not responding for a few hours. 

It was then that your phone started to ring, indicating a phone call. Groaning in annoyance, you will yourself to reach for your phone by the bedside table, picking it up hastily while your eyes are closed.

“Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Are you alright?” The familiar deep voice asked without missing a beat, tone laced with concern. Your eyes widen, looking at the caller ID. It was Zayne. The messages were also from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” Everything felt lighter than it was, your tone involuntarily chipper than it was a second ago. It was like your body is uncontrollable when it comes to him. You sit up on your bed to speak to him more clearly. 

“What happened?” He asked again, eager to get the point.

“What do you mean?” 

“Why did you leave the hospital? The nurse told me you were here to see me and then left,” he asked further. You don’t answer for a moment, unsure on what to lie about. You can’t exactly tell him the truth. 

“Oh… yeah. I just got back from a mission but you weren’t there so I left,” you explained. 

There was silence from a moment like he was thinking and you wish that you knew what it was about. Like most of the time, you wished to enter his mind and see him wholly. 

“...Are you hurt?” The eagerness dropped from his tone, replaced by the softness that you adored partnered with the deep concern that he showed you multiple times. It’s a softness that you found yourself used to, something that pertains to a relationship more than a doctor and his patient. 

“I’m alright, Dr. Zayne,” you answer truthfully but your voice betrays you and you curse yourself in your mind, knowing that the attentive doctor would notice. 

“You don’t sound alright,” he states the obvious, the subtle sarcasm noted in his answer. 

“I really am, Zayne. I just felt bad about missing the appointment because of the mission,” you say as you pull and fold your legs closer to yourself, hugging them to your chest. You hear his soft sigh on the other line and you let out an involuntary chuckle, picturing his disappointed and crunched forehead while he sat on his office desk. 

“Do you want to come in tomorrow?” He asked and your heart jumped at the question. The thought of seeing him tomorrow giving you a boost of serotonin. 

“Do I need to? I really am fine,” you answer truthfully, pertaining to your physical health.

“Nevermind. You’re coming in tomorrow. That’s an order from your doctor,” he commands and you chuckle again and roll your eyes but enjoy his nagging nonetheless. 

“Fine, Dr. Zayne. I’ll come in tomorrow.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” and he hangs up.

That night, you sleep with a heavy heart no longer but the thought of another woman still lingers at the back of your mind. You push the thoughts away, focusing on the thought that you will see him tomorrow. 

Just for tonight, you’ll dream of those green eyes. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You sit in front of him, legs crossed, your frilly skirt brushing against your knees as you try to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Zayne flips through your chart, his brow furrowed in concentration, like every detail of your health is a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

“Everything looks fine,” he says at last, his voice calm and steady.

You smile, forcing a lightness to your tone that doesn’t quite match how you feel inside. “Told you. I’m a good Hunter.”

His lips twitch into a half-smile. “You are. But that doesn’t mean you should throw yourself at any wanderer that crosses your path.”

You pout, sticking out your bottom lip in mock protest. “I wasn’t throwing myself at anyone. You make it sound like I’m reckless.”

Zayne chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not reckless—just a bit too fearless sometimes.”

The playful back-and-forth between you has become so natural, but today it feels different. You’d dressed up a little for this checkup, abandoning your usual jeans for something more delicate, more thoughtful, hoping he might notice. Maybe today would be the day you’d muster up the courage to say something—anything—to let him know how you feel. But before you can respond, a soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

Zayne glances up, his face softening instantly. “Come in.”

The door opens, and a woman steps inside, holding a small container in her hands. She’s striking, with short auburn hair that falls just past her ears and eyes that shine with quiet warmth. She’s dressed in a simple but elegant medical uniform, her steps confident and unhurried as she approaches the desk.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at Zayne. “I brought you something.” She sets the candy container down in front of him, a fond look passing between them.

Zayne’s face lights up—genuinely lights up—in a way you’ve rarely seen. He glances over at you, as if only just realizing you’re still in the room. “Y/N, this is Dr. Emma Lin. She’s—uh—one of the new doctors here at Akso Hospital.”

Emma gives you a polite nod, her smile warm but distant, like she’s already figured out who you are and where you stand. You manage to smile back, but your throat tightens painfully. You can feel the familiar weight of something blooming deep inside, a pressure building that you’ve worked so hard to suppress.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Emma says lightly, looking back at Zayne. “I just thought you could use a snack.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zayne replies, his tone softening even more. “Thanks for this.”

Emma lingers for a moment, her hand lightly brushing Zayne’s shoulder before she finally turns and heads out, leaving the room in an awkward, heavy silence.

You stare at the closed door, a pit forming in your stomach. So this is her.

“She’s nice,” you say, forcing the words out even though they taste bitter on your tongue. “Seems like she cares a lot.”

Zayne clears his throat, his gaze dropping back to the chart, though he’s clearly not reading it anymore. “Yeah. She’s great. We’ve been, uh… seeing each other.”

There it is. The confirmation you didn’t want but were already expecting.

“Oh,” you say softly, keeping your tone as casual as you can manage. “That’s… that’s nice, Zayne.”

He glances up at you, his brows knitting together as if he can sense the sudden shift in your mood, the hurt you’re trying so hard to hide. “It’s still pretty new,” he adds, almost as if he’s apologizing. “We’re just trying it out.” 

You swallow, the familiar burn in your throat intensifying. You can feel the petals—sharp and brittle—pressing against your chest, but you can’t let him see. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m happy for you,” you lie, forcing a smile that feels like it’s cracking at the edges. “You deserve someone great.”

Zayne watches you closely, his gaze searching, but you don’t let anything slip. Not a single hint of the pain coursing through you.

“I should probably go,” you say abruptly, standing up a little too quickly. “Thanks for the checkup, Zayne.”

He stands as well, concern flickering in his eyes, but you’re already heading for the door before he can ask any more questions.

“Y/N,” he calls after you, his voice hesitant, but you wave it off, turning with a bright, practiced smile.

“I’m fine, really. Just… have a lot on my mind. See you next time.”

And with that, you’re out the door, your chest tightening with every step as you leave the clinic. The air outside feels cold against your skin, the pressure building inside you unbearable. You let out a shaky breath, but little did you know, it’s too late to stop it.

The days dragged on like you were on autopilot. Your feelings weren’t new. They’ve always been there. Since you had a tiny crush on him in your childhood, you actually believed that you had a chance. 

The memory of Zayne's words, spoken only a few weeks ago, echoed in your mind. His voice, usually so warm and reassuring, had been hesitant, almost apologetic, as he shared the news. He'd told you about the new doctor he was seeing, her name a blur in your memory, her face a hazy silhouette in your imagination.

You hadn't meant to linger, to let the silence stretch into an uncomfortable void. You'd forced a smile, a laugh, even though your heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. You’d congratulated him, your voice a shaky whisper, but inside, you felt as though the world had been flipped on its side.

The world you’d been building in your head, a world where perhaps, just maybe, your unspoken feelings for Zayne could blossom into something more, had crumbled in an instant. You had been so careful, so cautious, not wanting to jeopardize the easy familiarity that had always existed between you. But now, the fragile hope you had clung to was gone, shattered into a million pieces.

The image of Zayne’s smile, reserved only for you, the way he’d always look at you with a warmth that seemed to encompass you entirely, now felt like a cruel mirage. The way his hand had lingered on yours, just a moment longer than necessary, had felt like a shared secret, a silent promise. Now, the memory of that touch sent a pang of longing through you, a sharp, unfamiliar ache.

You couldn't explain the sudden urge to avoid the clinic, the way even the faintest scent of disinfectant made you feel dizzy. You’d found yourself choosing the more dangerous missions, seeking solace in the adrenaline rush of battle, a temporary distraction from the growing unease in your heart.

You tried to push the thoughts away, to bury the hurt beneath layers of duty and responsibility. But it was a losing battle. The emptiness you felt, the ache in your chest, it was a constant companion now, a gnawing emptiness that refused to be ignored.

You couldn't ignore the growing fatigue, the way you seemed to be catching every bug that went around, the way your lungs felt tight, as though they were constantly filled with a suffocating weight. But you pushed it all aside, attributing it to the stress of your job, the relentless pressure of protecting the city. You were a Hunter, one with duties to protect the people from Wanderers. You couldn’t afford to be sick. Not when their threats are more rampant than before.

You need more distraction. You need to forget about Zayne. 

The world felt muted, the colors drained. 

The harsh fluorescent lights of the Hunter HQ buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on the cluttered desk where you sat, sifting through reports. A wave of nausea, unexpected and sharp, rolled over you. You clutched your stomach, a bead of sweat forming on your brow. This wasn't the usual post-mission exhaustion. This felt… different.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Tara asks in concern as she sees you practically about to hurl. 

You excused yourself, hurrying to the nearest restroom. The familiar scent of disinfectant did little to ease the churning in your gut. As you leaned over the sink, a wave of violent coughing seized you, racking your body. Something lodged in your throat, a burning sensation rising with each heave.

At first, it just worried you. Your protocore syndrome must’ve worsened. But that can’t be. You’ve gotten stronger since you’ve been in the N109 zone and you’ve been fine even before that.

Finally, you coughed up a small, crimson-tinged object – a delicate, blood-red rose petal.

Panic tightened your chest. Hanahaki. The whispered fear that had always lurked at the edges of your mind, now a stark reality. The illness that bloomed in your lungs, a physical manifestation of unrequited love, a slow, agonizing death. It was a rare disease, so rare that people even begin to question if they still exist. But they do. And now, you are an example.

Your world seemed to tilt on its axis. Zayne. His warm smile, his kind eyes, the way he always seemed to know just what to say, the way he’d gently patch you up after each mission, his hands tracing the scars on your arms with an unspoken tenderness that had always made your heart skip a beat.

You remembered the day he'd told you, his voice softer than usual, about the new doctor he was dating. The way his hand had lingered on the door handle, a touch of hesitancy in his eyes. The way he’d looked away as he mentioned the woman’s name. The woman he’d spent months, maybe even years, telling you stories about.

But this couldn’t be. You weren’t supposed to be sick. You were a Hunter, a soldier, a protector. You weren’t supposed to be felled by something as fragile and fleeting as love. You weren’t supposed to be… heartbroken.

The fear gnawed at you, a cold, sharp blade against your insides. Your vision blurred, the bright lights of the HQ fading to an almost unbearable white. You clung to the sink, your mind reeling, knowing that with each cough, each petal you coughed up, your life was slowly fading away.

The days dragged on, each one blending into the next, a constant reminder of your hidden struggle. Tara’s worried glances were becoming harder to ignore. She’d been your best friend since you started hunting together, and her concern was palpable, hovering like a cloud over your head.

“You need to take a break,” she pressed one evening after a long mission, her voice low as you both cleaned your gear in the dim light of the supply room. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not invincible, Y/N.”

You waved her off, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to your own ears. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. The last mission was tough, that’s all.” But deep down, you knew you were lying, and Tara could see right through it.

Your nights were plagued with coughing fits, sharp and painful, like a bitter reminder of the flowers blooming within you. Each cough felt like a warning, a desperate call for attention, yet you buried it beneath a layer of denial. You pushed through the pain, stubbornly refusing to let it slow you down.

But then Captain Jenna called you into her office, and you felt the weight of her piercing gaze as soon as you stepped inside. She was a force of nature—stern but compassionate, always demanding the best from her team. The moment she closed the door, you could sense the shift in atmosphere.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice steady but filled with concern. “You’re not yourself. I’ve noticed the way you falter during missions, how pale you’ve become. It’s like you’re a shadow of who you used to be. What’s going on?”

You met her gaze, your heart racing as you weighed your options. You could tell her the truth about your condition, about the Hanahaki disease that was slowly consuming you. But could you bear to reveal your secret? The love you held for Zayne, the pain of watching him with another woman—it felt too heavy, too raw to lay bare.

“It’s nothing, Captain. Just a bit worn out,” you said, your voice stronger than you felt.

“Worn out?” she repeated, her brow furrowing in disbelief. “This isn’t just exhaustion, Y/N. You’re struggling. I need you at your best. The team needs you at your best. If you can’t do this, I need to know.”

The pressure built inside you, and you fought the urge to scream, to let it all out. “I can handle it. I promise. Just give me a bit more time.”

Jenna studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

You nodded, though her words felt like a lifeline you were too proud to grasp. As you left her office, the walls felt like they were closing in. The facade you’d built was crumbling, and you were running out of places to hide.

The next few days were a blur of missions, each one feeling heavier than the last. Tara’s worried looks became more frequent, and you could see the doubt creeping into her expression. You tried to put on a brave face, but the more you pushed yourself, the worse you felt. Your coughs grew worse, punctuated by a metallic taste that clung to your throat.

One evening, you finally reached your breaking point. You collapsed onto your bed after another grueling mission, your body trembling with exhaustion. Your hands trembled as you brushed your fingers across the petals that had begun to manifest along your throat. Each one was a reminder of your unspoken feelings, a testament to the love you couldn’t bear to confess.

As you lay there, Tara knocked on your door before entering without waiting for a response. She took one look at you and rushed to your side, her eyes wide with concern. “Y/N! You look awful! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

You turned your head away, biting your lip to keep from crying. “I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Stop lying to me!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with frustration. “You’re clearly not okay. You need to see a doctor. If you won’t talk to Jenna, then you’ll at least talk to someone else.”

At that moment, the walls you've built around yourself finally crumbled, and the truth began to pour out. “I don’t want to talk about it, Tara! I’m just… I’m just trying to keep it together.”

Her gaze softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you.”

You felt the warmth of her support, and for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it. “I… I don’t know how to explain it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t want to burden you with it.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re never a burden to me,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

With a shaky breath, you finally relented, the weight of your secret pressing down on you like an anchor. “I think I have Hanahaki disease. It’s… it’s because of Zayne.”

Tara’s eyes widened in shock. “What? How long have you known?”

“Since the checkup,” you admitted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But I can’t tell him. I can’t let him know how I feel. And if I don’t have the surgery, the flowers will keep growing. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Y/N…” Tara began, her voice a soothing balm against your anxiety. “You need to take care of yourself first. If Zayne cares about you like you think he does, he’ll understand.”

The idea felt foreign, a small glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. But would he really care? Would it matter to him?

You shook your head, the thoughts swirling like a tempest in your mind. “I can’t go back to him. Not like this.”

Tara leaned closer, determination shining in her eyes. “Then let’s go to the hospital and get you the help you need. You don’t have to face this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time in days, the thought of facing your illness didn’t feel as daunting. Maybe there was still a chance to reclaim a piece of yourself. Taking what Tara said by heart, you stood up, ready to fight the battle you’d been avoiding for too long.

You need to come up with a plan without involving Zayne. He doesn’t need to know and carry the guilt of you being sick. He’s a doctor, for fuck’s sake. How could he bear to treat you when he learns that he’s the reason for it? Or worse, will he have to be the one to  surgically remove the plant growing inside you to completely remove him for life?

After a long period of silence, you turn to Tara with dried tears in your eyes, determined and decided.

“Tara, I need you to listen to me about what I’m about to do.”

Filing a leave of absence from the Hunters Association felt like the hardest thing you’d done in a while, but it was the first necessary step. You expected resistance—Jenna rarely let anyone take time off easily, especially not with everything happening in Linkon City. But to your surprise, she granted your request immediately, no questions asked. Maybe she’d seen more of your exhaustion than you realized. Or maybe she knew this was something you needed to do alone.

Once the leave was secured, you contacted Sylus, the only one you know who could help you get into the N109 zone safely, a place few dared to go unless they had business on the other side of the law. He was your last hope for hiding away from everything: Zayne, your disease, and the life you couldn’t bear to face anymore. You expected him to hesitate, maybe even refuse to help, but Sylus responded almost immediately, granting you safe passage to his home without a second thought.

“You look rough, sweetie,” Sylus said the moment you stepped through the door. His nickname for you, one you used to find annoying and mocking, now felt oddly comforting. But today, there was no mockery in his tone. Only concern.

You glanced up at him, feeling the weight of his crimson eyes studying you. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was seeing you, seeing how much you’d changed since the last time you stayed in N109. Your skin had lost its color, your lips were dry and cracked, and your once sharp, determined eyes had dulled with fatigue and the weight of secrets.

Sylus sighed, stepping aside to let you pass. “You know where your room is.”

You nodded weakly, mumbling a soft “thank you” as you dragged yourself through the dimly lit hallway. Luke and Keiran, Sylus’s trusted associates, were already by your side, taking the backpack from your shoulder and exchanging worried glances as they guided you to your room.

The room was exactly as you remembered it—small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Sylus’s house. It had been your safe haven once before, back when the pressures of the outside world had gotten too heavy. But this time, it felt different. You were running from more than just stress. You were running from yourself.

Luke placed your bag on the chair while Keiran hovered near the door, his usual mischievous demeanor replaced by concern. “Are you hungry?” Keiran asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head, barely able to muster the energy to respond. The truth was, you hadn’t felt hunger in days, the constant nausea from the flowers growing inside you making food seem like an afterthought.

Keiran exchanged a glance with Luke before stepping closer. “You need to eat something, Y/N. You’re looking… worse than usual.”

You couldn’t help but give a weak smile at his bluntness. “I’ll eat later,” you promised, though you knew you probably wouldn’t.

Luke stayed silent and didn’t press the issue. Instead, he handed you a glass of water, and you took it gratefully, sipping slowly as the two of them busied themselves tidying the room. You could feel their unspoken worry, the way they moved more carefully around you, like you might break at any moment.

“Anything else you need, just let us know,” Luke said quietly before they both left, closing the door behind them.

Alone at last, you collapsed onto the bed, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. The room felt too quiet, too still, and your thoughts began to spiral. You’d made it to N109. You were away from Zayne, away from the Association, from everything. But the weight in your chest—the flowers—remained. You could feel them growing, their roots twisting deeper with every unspoken word, every feeling you couldn’t voice.

You lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long you could keep running. How long until the disease consumed you completely?

There was a soft knock at the door, and you turned your head to see Sylus leaning against the frame, holding a tray of what looked like a warm bowl of noodles. 

“Not eating, huh?” he said, his voice low. “I figured. Got you something anyway.” He walked in and placed the tray on the side table. You were right. It was one of your favorites when you stayed here before.

You smiled weakly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Sylus shrugged, his crimson eyes still locked on you, sharper now, as if he could see the weight you were carrying. He goes back to lean against the door frame, watching you like you were going to break at any second. “I do when you come back looking like death warmed over. What’s going on, Y/N?”

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill everything—the disease, your love for Zayne, the way it was slowly killing you. But the words stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a tired, “It’s complicated.”

Sylus’s gaze didn’t waver. “Everything’s complicated. Doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it.”

For a moment, you considered it, but then the thought of Zayne flashed through your mind. The image of him with Emma, happy, unburdened by your love, and the flowers in your chest tightened.

“I’ll be fine,” you said instead, though you weren’t sure you believed it yourself.

Sylus stared at you for another long moment before sighing. “Well, you’re here now. Rest up. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

He pushed off the doorframe and left you alone again, but his words lingered in the air. We’ll figure it out.

But what if there was nothing left to figure out? What if the only solution was letting the flowers take you?

The silence of the room settled over you like a heavy blanket, pressing down on your chest until it was almost unbearable. Every breath felt strained, like the air itself was growing thicker. It has been a few days. You hadn’t told Sylus, or anyone for that matter, the full truth of your condition. But you could feel it—the flowers—growing stronger, more vicious by the day. Sylus has ordered a doctor to come to your room, just to check up on you. Just as you predicted, doctors are a bit hard to come by in this area. The doctor knows little about Hanahaki disease, so you told him it was your Protocore Disease accompanied by accumulated stress from work. He gave you suppressants and asked Sylus to monitor you for now.

Hours passed in a blur of restless half-sleep, until a sharp pain in your chest jolted you awake. You pressed a hand to your ribs, wincing as a violent cough wracked your body, more intense than any you’d had before. Panic surged through you as the pressure built in your throat, forcing you out of bed.

You stumbled into the bathroom, hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the sink. Another cough ripped through you, harder this time, and you doubled over, gasping. You felt something sharp and foreign rise in your throat—something too large, too wrong.

With a shuddering breath, you coughed again, and this time, something solid came up. You coughed repeatedly but it would just not come out. Tears stream down your face from the pain and frustration. You began to help it by pulling it out with your fingers. And finally, it came out.

You leaned over the sink, spitting out the mass into the basin, your heart pounding in your chest. When you looked down, you froze.

A stem of thorns, slick with blood, curled like a dark vine in the sink. Each thorn gleamed under the dim light, jagged and cruel. The petals had been bad enough, but this—this was something else. Something worse. You couldn’t ignore it any longer. The disease was advancing, and it was doing so faster than you’d anticipated.

Panic surged through you as you backed away from the sink, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was too late. You hear that damn bird cawing outside the door. 

The door creaked open, and Sylus stepped into the bathroom, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw you. He was still dressed fully like he just came back from outside. He must’ve had a meeting late at night, a normal occurrence in this place. Mephisto, sits by his shoulder, cawing like he was the one who led Sylus to you. 

“Y/N?” His voice was low but urgent, the edge of concern sharpening his usually calm demeanor.

You turned, eyes wide, your hand still pressed to your mouth as if you could hide the evidence. But it was no use. His gaze flickered from you to the sink, where the thorny stem still lay, stark against the white porcelain. There was blood all over your mouth, dripping on your hands and neck.

“Sweetie…” His voice dropped, softer now, but laced with something darker. “What the hell is going on?”

You couldn’t speak. The words stuck in your throat, tangled with fear and shame. Sylus crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached the sink. He stared at the thorns for a moment before looking back at you, his face hardening with realization.

“You’ve got Hanahaki, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a truth you could no longer deny.

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, your hands shaking as you gripped the edge of the sink for support. “I… I didn’t want to tell anyone. I thought I could handle it,” your voice was hoarse, throat swollen as you tried so hard to speak.

“Handle it?” Sylus’s voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. “You’re coughing up thorns, Y/N, rose thorns. You do know that rose is one of the deadliest strains of Hanahaki, don’t you? This isn’t something you can just ‘handle.’ Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

You swallowed hard, the taste of blood still lingering red in your mouth. “Because… because it’s because of Zayne.”

Sylus froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Zayne? You mean—”

You nodded, the confession spilling out like a dam breaking. “I’ve loved him for so long, Sylus, and I can’t stop. But he’s with someone else now. And I… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t put that on him, not when he’s happy.”

Sylus’s expression darkened, and he let out a low, frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, you’re killing yourself over him. You should have told me sooner.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath, the pain in your chest growing sharper. “I didn’t know what else to do. I thought… I thought I could live with it, but it’s getting worse. The flowers, they’re… they’re spreading.”

Sylus stepped closer, his hands gripping your shoulders gently but firmly. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll figure something out. But first, we need to get you to a doctor. A real one, not some back-alley medic.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “If I get the surgery, it’ll remove the feelings entirely. I won’t feel anything for Zayne anymore. And… and I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of that.”

Sylus’s expression softened, the anger fading as he saw the pain in your eyes. “I get it. But you have to take care of yourself first. This disease—it’s going to kill you if you don’t do something. I’m not letting you waste away like this.”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. But the thought of losing your feelings for Zayne, of letting go of the love that had been a part of you for so long—it felt like a different kind of death.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Sylus nodded, his hands still steady on your shoulders. “I know. But I’ve got you, sweetie. We’ll get through this.”

You nodded, feeling the tears fall freely now. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else. To let Sylus’s strength carry you, if only for a little while.

“We’ll get you to a doctor in the N109 zone,” he said quietly. “Someone who can help, someone who won’t ask too many questions. But after that… you need to make a decision, Y/N. Whether you want the surgery or not, you need to choose. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”

You nodded, knowing that the time for running was over. You couldn’t keep pretending this wasn’t happening. The flowers had taken root, and now it was up to you to decide how to survive.

Zayne sat at his desk, staring down at the empty appointment slot on his tablet. It had been weeks since you missed your first check-up, and at first, he didn’t think much of it—Hunters had unpredictable schedules, after all. But then you missed the next one. And the one after that. Now, weeks had passed without so much as a text from you, and an uneasy feeling had settled deep in his gut. You were never this irresponsible about your health.

He tried reaching out—texts, calls—but all had gone unanswered. That was when real concern started to gnaw at him. The you he knew wouldn’t just vanish like that, especially not from something as crucial as your medical check-ups. Something was wrong.

He didn’t like the feeling. In fact, it twisted in his chest, growing heavier by the day. He’d dealt with plenty of patients who disappeared on him, but you were different. You always kept in touch, always made an effort to keep things light even when you were battered from a mission. But now? Silence.

Sighing, Zayne grabbed his coat and decided to take matters into his own hands. He needed to check on you in person. He knew where your apartment was—he’d dropped off medicine there more times than he could count after your particularly rough assignments. His job required him to keep an eye on his patients, but with you, it was more than that. He hated the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you.

The streets leading to your apartment were quiet as he made his way over, the familiar hum of the city blending into the background. His mind raced as he walked up the stairs to your door, running over all the possibilities: maybe you were hurt, maybe you were sick, maybe you were avoiding him. That last one gnawed at him harder than the others.

When he finally reached your apartment, Zayne rang the doorbell, waiting for a response. Silence. He knocked this time, but there was no movement, no sound coming from within. His heart sank a little, and he tried the handle. Locked.

“Y/N?” he called out, pressing his ear to the door. Nothing.

He felt his pulse quicken. He checked the windows, walked around the perimeter, hoping for some sign that you were there. But the place was eerily still. It was clear you hadn’t been home for a while. The anxiety that had been simmering in the back of his mind began to boil over.

Zayne pulled out his phone and scrolled to Tara’s number. If anyone knew where you were, it would be her. You were inseparable as fellow Hunters, practically glued to each other on and off the field. If something was wrong, Tara would have noticed.

The phone rang, each buzz tightening the knot in his stomach, until finally, Tara’s voice came through.

“Zayne? What’s up?”

“Hey, Tara,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Have you seen Y/N lately? She’s missed a couple of appointments, and I just went by her apartment. She’s not there, and she hasn’t been answering my calls.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Zayne’s chest tightened at the silence. Tara wasn’t usually one to hesitate.

“Zayne…” Her voice softened. “She’s on leave.”

“Leave?” His brow furrowed. “Since when? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She filed for leave about a week and a half ago,” Tara explained, her tone tinged with worry. “She hasn’t been herself lately. I mean, she’s not feeling well and went on sick leave… I figured she needed some time to recover, but I don’t know where she went.”

Zayne’s grip on his phone tightened. “Wait, she’s been sick?”

“I don’t know how bad, but it’s been getting worse. I tried to get her to rest, but you know Y/N. She’s stubborn. Always pushing herself too hard.” Tara sighed on the other end. “I haven’t been able to reach her since she left either. I thought maybe she just needed space, but… I don’t know, Zayne. She told me she’ll come back when she feels better.”

Zayne’s mind raced. Sick? That explained your recent absence from your appointments, but why hadn’t you come to him? Why hadn’t you said anything? And where the hell were you now? The idea of you out there, alone, battling something serious without any support—it made his stomach turn. He was supposed to be your physician. Who else could you trust more in this situation? 

“Thanks, Tara,” he said quickly. “If you hear from her, let me know immediately.”

“You too,” Tara said, her voice growing softer with concern. “I hope she’s okay.”

Zayne hung up, his thoughts swirling in a storm of worry and frustration. This wasn’t just a case of missing appointments. You were sick, and you hadn’t told anyone what it is that you’re feeling. Not Tara, not the Association, and not him. The thought of you out there somewhere, getting worse by the day, hit him hard.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He wasn’t going to let this slide. He needed to find you, and fast. And if you were too stubborn to ask for help, well, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it to you anyway. You didn’t get to disappear on him. Not like this. Not when it felt like something was so deeply, dangerously wrong.

The underground clinic in the N109 Zone was dimly lit, the scent of antiseptic and metal lingering in the air. Sylus sat beside you, his crimson eyes fixed on the makeshift doctor as she examined your condition. The doctor, a woman with worn hands and tired eyes, shook her head slightly, pulling back from the dim glow of her equipment. Sylus told you she’s the only one in the area who specializes in Hanahaki disease.

“It’s as I suspected,” she said quietly, her voice barely carrying over the hum of old machines. “The remedies I’ve given her will alleviate some of the symptoms—the coughing, the pain—but they won’t stop the disease. Hanahaki can only be cured one way.”

You knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. You felt it every time you coughed, every time a petal slipped from your lips, every time the thorny vines twisted deeper into your lungs. Hanahaki Disease was a cruel sickness. Only unrequited love could birth it, and only love returned could stop it.

Sylus stood, pacing the small clinic room, his fists clenched tight. “So what’s the point of this?” he growled. “You’re telling me she’s just going to keep getting worse?”

The doctor nodded grimly. “I’ve seen cases like this before. Without reciprocation, the flowers will continue to bloom. The disease will spread. It will choke her from the inside out.” Her eyes shifted to you, softening with pity. “She’ll have to make a choice soon. Either have the flowers removed surgically and forget her feelings entirely, or…”

“Or die,” you finished for her, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor didn’t respond, but the silence was enough.

Sylus slammed his fist into the nearest counter, rattling the tools scattered across its surface. “There has to be another way.”

The doctor said nothing. She’d already given her answer.

You shifted uncomfortably in the worn cot, feeling the sharp sting of another thorn scratching at your throat. You pressed a hand to your mouth, and when you pulled it away, you saw more petals—vibrant, soft, and hauntingly beautiful. The irony wasn’t lost on you: love, something meant to be pure and life-giving, was slowly killing you.

Sylus knelt beside you, his frustration giving way to concern. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N. You need real help.”

You met his gaze, seeing the worry etched deep into his features. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you could push through this. But the truth was, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going. Each day, the flowers bloomed more aggressively. Each day, you felt your strength slipping away. And the one person who could save you—Zayne—was unreachable, tangled in a new relationship, unaware of the feelings you’d been hiding.

“I don’t want to forget him,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Sylus’s expression darkened. “You’re dying for a man who doesn’t even know you’re dying because of him.”

You knew he was right. You’d seen Zayne’s smile when Emma came to his office. Zayne wasn’t yours to love, not anymore. Maybe he never was. But the thought of forgetting him entirely—of erasing every moment, every memory, every flicker of what could have been—was unbearable.

“I can’t,” you murmured. “Not yet.”

Sylus let out a slow breath, his frustration palpable, but he didn’t push further. He simply stayed by your side, silent but steadfast, offering the only comfort he could in this grim situation.

Days passed in a haze of pain and exhaustion. The makeshift remedies from the underground doctors kept the worst of the symptoms at bay, but they couldn’t stop the inevitable. The flowers continued to bloom, their roots digging deeper into your chest. You could feel them, a constant presence now, weighing down your lungs, stealing your breath little by little.

One night, as you lay in bed at Sylus’s place, you woke to another coughing fit. This time, it wasn’t just petals that came up—there were stems, long and twisted, covered in thorns. You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, feeling the flowers pressing against your ribs, desperate to grow, desperate to take over. You couldn’t stop them.

Sylus found you sitting on the bathroom floor, clutching your chest, petals and stems scattered across the tiles. He didn’t say anything at first. He just knelt beside you, his expression a mix of anger and helplessness.

“You don’t have much time left, do you?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how weak you’d become until that moment, how much the disease had taken from you. The once-strong Hunter now sat in a heap, broken by love that was never meant to be.

Sylus grabbed his phone, his voice tense as he called another doctor. “She needs real help. Now.”

But deep down, you both knew the truth. There was no real cure for Hanahaki—not unless Zayne’s love was returned. And that hope was slipping further out of reach with each passing day.

The dim lighting of Sylus’s home did little to soothe your nerves. After another coughing fit that left you weakened and breathless, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bouquet of petals in your hand—pale, soft, and soaked in blood. The weight of your condition felt more unbearable with every passing day, the flowers pushing closer to your heart, the thorns digging deeper into your lungs. Yet, even after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree to the surgery that would rip not only the flowers from you but also your feelings for Zayne.

There was a knock on the door. Sylus entered, followed closely by the underground doctor from the N109 zone. She carried a bag of supplies, her face etched with the same quiet concern you’d come to expect from her.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Sylus began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He took a seat beside you, his crimson eyes meeting yours. “The remedies we’ve been giving you… they’re not enough. You’re getting worse.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “But I’m not ready for the surgery. I can’t just… forget.”

The doctor stepped forward, glancing at Sylus before speaking. “Y/N, I understand your hesitation. But we’ve been talking, and there might be another option.”

You looked up, confused. “Another option?”

“It’s not a cure,” she clarified, her tone careful, “but there’s a treatment we could try. It won’t stop the disease entirely, but it could slow it down—buy you more time, at least. It would alleviate some of the more aggressive symptoms, like the coughing and the thorn growth.”

Your hope flickered. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Sylus, then spoke again. “The treatment is experimental, and the resources here in the N109 zone are… limited. We don’t have the proper equipment to administer it safely. You’d have to go back to Linkon City, to Akso Hospital.”

Linkon City. The name sent a jolt of fear and longing through you. It meant facing everything you were trying to run from—Zayne, his new relationship with Emma, the memories you were desperate to hold onto. But it also meant the possibility of relief, of not feeling like you were drowning every time you took a breath.

“How does it work?” you asked warily, your eyes darting between the doctor and Sylus.

“The treatment will slow the growth of the flowers,” she explained. “It won’t cure the disease, but it’ll suppress the symptoms long enough for us to manage them. It’ll give you more time to decide what you want to do.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his gaze heavy on you. “It’s the best option right now, Y/N. Better than sitting here, wasting away.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Going back to Linkon meant stepping right back into Zayne’s world. You didn’t know if you could handle seeing him again, knowing that you still loved him and that he had moved on. But the alternative—letting the disease run its course, with no other options left—was becoming harder to endure.

“What if it doesn’t work?” you asked quietly, fear creeping into your voice.

The doctor’s face softened. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie. But right now, doing nothing is a bigger risk.”

You clenched the sheets in your hands, the conflicting emotions inside you swirling like a storm. You wanted to believe that this new treatment would help, that it would give you enough time to figure things out. But deep down, a part of you knew this was a gamble.

“I don’t know if I can go back there,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Zayne… he…”

Sylus placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression firm but kind. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. But you can’t die like this, Y/N. Not when there’s still a chance, even if it’s a small one.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll arrange everything with Akso Hospital. They have the facilities and the staff to administer the treatment safely. You can be in and out, no one needs to know you’re there.”

You swallowed hard, the idea of returning to Linkon gnawing at you. But the weight of the disease was becoming too much to bear. If this treatment really could slow it down, even for a little while, maybe it was worth the risk. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not without trying something.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I’ll go.”

Sylus’s hand tightened on your shoulder briefly, a silent show of support. The doctor nodded, already pulling out her comms to make the necessary arrangements.

“I’ll set it up for tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll get you to Linkon, get the treatment started, and bring you back here before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

You nodded, but deep down, a part of you wasn’t convinced. Something about this didn’t feel right. But you were too exhausted, too weak to argue. For now, you would hold on to the hope that this “treatment” would give you the time you desperately needed. Time to figure out what came next—whether you could keep running from the love that was slowly killing you, or whether you had no choice but to let it go.

As the doctor left to make the arrangements, you lay back against the pillow, the weight of the decision settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had no idea what awaited you in Linkon. All you knew was that whatever happened, it would bring you closer to the inevitable.

Zayne sat in his office at Akso Hospital, his fingers tapping restlessly on the desk. Something had been gnawing at the back of his mind for weeks—Y/N’s sudden disappearance from her regular checkups, the silence she’d maintained despite his attempts to reach out. She had always been stubborn, always tough, but this felt different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

A message buzzed on his comm, interrupting his thoughts. It was from Greyson. Zayne opened the message, his eyes skimming over the text quickly:

“Heard a rumor. A Hunter suffering from Hanahaki Disease is being admitted to Akso. Thought you’d want to know.”

His heart stopped. Hanahaki Disease. He hadn’t heard of anyone in the Hunter circle suffering from it—no one except… No. It couldn’t be.

Zayne read the message again, his mind spinning. The only Hunter who had been coming to him regularly, the only one who had left without explanation, was Y/N. His mind raced, replaying every moment from their last appointment—the slight cough she tried to hide, the way she seemed distant, and the sudden leave she took from the Hunters Association. The pieces began to fit together like a cruel puzzle, one that painted a picture of her suffering in silence. 

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Y/N had been in love with someone, and the disease had taken root because the other hadn’t returned those feelings. And now, because of that, she was dying. Why didn’t she tell him? There could only be one reason why she didn’t ask for his help, her only physician. 

Zayne stood abruptly, knocking a few files off his desk as he scrambled to process what this meant. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over him—he had been blind to her feelings, caught up in his new relationship with Emma, while Y/N had been silently withering away. He was so in sync with Emma, so alike, that when she asked if they could try being more than colleagues and friends, he didn’t know why he actually agreed to date. He must tell you that. He must tell you that he…

Oh. He does. For so long. 

He couldn’t waste another second. Grabbing his coat, Zayne rushed out of his office, his mind focused on one thing: finding Y/N before it was too late.

He tapped his phone, dialing a doctor from the network who was set to oversee the patient’s treatment. The voice on the other end answered quickly.

“Zayne? What’s going on?”

“I need to know about the patient coming in with Hanahaki Disease. The Hunter,” Zayne said, his voice tense, barely controlled. “When are they being admitted?”

There was a pause, then the voice responded, hesitant. “That’s confidential information, Zayne. I can’t just—”

“It’s Y/N,” Zayne interrupted, his tone sharp. “She’s the one with Hanahaki Disease, isn’t she?”

Another pause, this one longer, more telling. “Zayne… I don’t know all the details, but… yes. She’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow.”

His heart dropped. Surgery. Hanahaki Disease could only be cured in two ways—either by having her love returned or by undergoing surgery to remove the flowers. But the surgery came with a cruel price: it would erase her feelings completely. Y/N wouldn’t just lose the disease; she would lose her love for him, and all the memories tied to it.

Zayne’s grip tightened on the comm. “Cancel the surgery. I’m coming.”

“Zayne, you can’t—”

“Cancel it,” Zayne said firmly. “I’m not going to let her go through with this without knowing the truth.”

He disconnected the call, his heart racing as he stormed down the hallways of the hospital. His thoughts were a whirlwind of panic and guilt. He should’ve noticed sooner. He should’ve been there for her. But there was still time—he had to believe that. He could fix this, he had to.

Zayne made his way to his car, his mind already racing ahead to what he would say to her. He had no idea how she would react, or if she even wanted to see him after everything, but he couldn’t let her go through with the surgery. He had to tell her how he felt. Because the truth was, somewhere along the way, his feelings for her had grown too.

As he drove through the city, his thoughts lingered on Y/N—on her strength, her stubbornness, and the way she had always kept her distance, even when he tried to get close. He had been blind, wrapped up in his own life, too focused on the surface of things. But now, he understood. And he wasn’t going to let her suffer in silence any longer.

Zayne’s mind was racing as the car sped towards Akso Hospital, the weight of everything crashing down on him. He didn’t know if she would even listen to him. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t let her go through that surgery without knowing that he was ready to fight for her—for them.

For the first time, Zayne realized just how much he cared for Y/N. How much she meant to him, and how blind he had been to the quiet way she had always been there. He couldn’t let her lose that, not when he could still save her.

Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving for Linkon and you couldn’t sleep. Your mind is everywhere until you found yourself once again in the bathroom. The dim, suffocating air of the room wrapped around you like a cold embrace. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as you hunched over the sink, your hands trembling as you help yourself hurl the white rose. The familiar metallic taste filled your mouth, but this time, it was worse—far worse than it had ever been.

When you finally dared to glance down, your heart nearly stopped. There, lying in the sink, was the largest bloom yet: a full white rose, its petals soft and fragile, but tangled in sharp, vicious thorns. Blood stained the delicate petals, your blood, and the sight of it sent a shudder down your spine. You clutched the edge of the sink for support, your vision swimming as pain tore through your chest.

This was it. The disease had progressed further than you had imagined. No makeshift remedy could stop it now. There was no time to experiment.

The thorns, tangled and sharp, had felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out. The flowers—the symbol of love that you couldn’t escape—had bloomed in full force, reminding you of the feelings you had tried so desperately to bury. Every cough felt like a knife in your lungs, but it was more than just physical pain. It was the heartbreak of loving someone who would never love you back.

You stumbled back from the sink, collapsing onto the floor, clutching your chest as you struggled to breathe. The decision you had been avoiding for so long now weighed heavily on you, inescapable. You couldn’t survive this. The love that had rooted itself deep within you was slowly killing you, and there was no way to keep running.

Sylus found you moments later, rushing into the bathroom when he heard your weak cries for help. His crimson eyes widened when he saw you, his usual stoic expression breaking with a mix of shock and concern. He knelt beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his voice low.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. “This… you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Your throat felt raw as you coughed again, tasting blood on your lips. You couldn’t even muster the strength to argue, your body finally betraying you in the worst way possible. Sylus helped you sit up, his eyes briefly glancing at the bloodied rose in the sink. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told you he understood.

“I can’t… I can’t fight it anymore,” you rasped, your voice barely audible. “I need the surgery.”

Sylus’s eyes flickered with something that almost looked like relief, but it was tempered by the knowledge of what the surgery meant. He knew the cost—the erasure of your feelings for Zayne, the love that had been such a painful part of you for so long. But he also knew there was no other choice now.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded weakly, wiping at your mouth with a shaking hand. “It’s the only way. I… I don’t want to die like this.”

Sylus exhaled slowly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “Then I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll leave for Linkon as soon as you’re ready.”

Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you managed to steady yourself with Sylus’s support. The weight of your decision settled over you like a heavy blanket—stifling, but somehow also freeing. You would lose your love for Zayne, that much was certain. But at least you would survive. At least the pain would stop. And you could get back to work. You could see him again and act like nothing happened. It would be better for everyone if you just didn’t feel. 

As you packed your things for the journey back to Linkon City, your heart felt strangely hollow. There was no going back now. You were going to let the surgery take away everything—the flowers, the thorns, and the love that had nearly consumed you. You would lose the part of yourself that had been tied to Zayne, but maybe that was for the best.

Maybe, in the end, forgetting him and his memories would be the only way to move forward.

With a final, shaky breath, you looked out the window, knowing this was your last chance to feel the weight of your love before it was ripped away forever.

The familiar, sterile scent of Akso Hospital greeted you the moment you arrived in your room. The journey back to Linkon had been long and exhausting, and your body felt more fragile than ever. Every breath seemed to rattle within your chest, the flowers pressing harder against your lungs as the disease worsened.

Sylus had helped you settle into the bed, his usual stoic demeanor faltering slightly as he glanced at you with concern. “I’ll check in on you later,” he said, his voice gruff but laced with an underlying care. “I can’t be seen much around here, you know that. If you need anything, let me know.”

You nodded weakly, barely managing to muster a response. All you could think about was the surgery—the thought of the flowers, and your feelings for Zayne, being torn out of you for good. The relief of that thought was tinged with sadness, a weight that settled heavily in your heart.

Just as you closed your eyes to try to find some rest, the door creaked open.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Y/N.”

His voice—steady, but holding the edge of something raw—cut through the quiet room like a blade. Your eyes snapped open, and you turned your head to see Zayne standing in the doorway, his expression torn between worry and something deeper, something more desperate.

You sat up slowly, your body protesting the movement as pain flared in your chest. “Zayne… how did you—”

“I found out,” he interrupted, stepping further into the room. “I found out about your condition, about the Hanahaki. I—” He faltered, as if the words were too heavy to form. His eyes were wide with something you hadn’t seen before—panic.

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Zayne, it’s too late. I’m getting the surgery.”

He froze, standing still as his eyes locked onto yours. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your heart clenched painfully at the words, but you forced yourself to keep your expression steady. “Yes, I do,” you replied softly. “I can’t keep living like this. These flowers, this pain… it’s killing me.”

Zayne’s eyes darkened, his hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t have to lose your feelings for me. You can survive this without giving that up.”

You let out a bitter laugh, your voice trembling with the effort. “How, Zayne? You don’t return my feelings, and this disease… it only stops when the love is mutual.” You met his gaze, trying to convey the finality of your decision. “I don’t have a choice.”

He took another step closer, his face tight with emotion. “But you do have a choice. You don’t need to do this surgery. We can figure something out—together.”

You shook your head, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’ve already decided. This is the only way.”

Zayne’s eyes were stormy with conflict. You could see the guilt eating away at him, the pain of realizing what his absence had cost you. But you also knew he wasn’t here to confess his love. He was here because he cared, because he felt responsible. And as much as that hurt, you couldn’t let that be the reason to hold onto hope.

“Zayne, please…” Your voice cracked as you looked at him, your body trembling with exhaustion. “Just go. Let me do this.”

He moved toward you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. The contact was warm, his touch familiar and comforting, but you could feel the hesitation in him, the uncertainty that hung in the air.

“You don’t understand,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you pulled away from his touch, shaking your head. “You won’t lose me, Zayne. You’ll still have me as a friend, as someone you care about. But I can’t… I can’t keep loving you like this.”

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. This was it. This was the moment you had to let go, no matter how much it hurt. You couldn’t bear to love him any longer, not when it was destroying you from the inside.

Zayne’s expression faltered, his hand falling back to his side. “Y/N…”

“Zayne, just go,” you whispered. 

“Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Zayne, please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

But he wasn’t listening. His hand gripped yours as if it was the only thing keeping him steady, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began, his voice strained.

You frowned, your heart sinking. “What is it?”

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw more than just concern. There was something deeper, something conflicted.

“About Emma—the other doctor,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what you think. We’re not… It’s not as serious as you believe.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly shook your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Zayne, it doesn’t matter. You’re with her, and that’s fine. I’ve already accepted that.”

“No, you haven’t,” he said sharply, stepping closer. His eyes flashed with frustration. “And I haven’t either. I ended things with her.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean?”

Zayne hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as if he was gathering the courage to say something he’d been holding back for too long. “I’ve been avoiding my feelings, Y/N. For a long time. I thought keeping things professional between us was the right thing to do, the smart thing to do.” He paused, searching your eyes. “But seeing you like this… seeing you suffering because of me…”

His voice trailed off, thick with emotion, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. This was a side of him you had never seen, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

“I didn’t want to face it,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I thought that by staying focused on my work, on our roles, I could keep things simple. But I can’t anymore. Not when I know what’s happening to you. Not when I realize I’m the reason you’ve been hurting.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in, and you felt the familiar sting of tears building behind your eyes. “Zayne… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been scared, Y/N. Scared of what it would mean if I let myself feel more for you. But I can’t hide from it anymore. I care about you—more than I should have ever let myself admit.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, his words sinking in deeper with every breath you took. Your heart was racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions you had thought were on the verge of being erased forever.

“Zayne…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You… you never said anything.”

He shook his head, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you, with myself. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to go through with the surgery.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Don’t erase your feelings, Y/N. Don’t erase us.”

You stared at him, your heart aching with the weight of his words. For so long, you had believed that he would never return your feelings, that your love for him would remain unrequited. But now, here he was, asking you to give him a chance. Asking you to believe that it wasn’t too late.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your throat tight with emotion. “I was ready to move on, to forget…”

Zayne leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to forget. We can figure this out—together. Please, Y/N… give us a chance.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks as you looked into his eyes, the weight of your love for him pressing hard against your chest. The flowers had bloomed so fully within you, so painfully, but for the first time, you felt a spark of hope.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

“I am too,” Zayne replied softly, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. “But I’d rather face that fear with you than lose you because of it.”

The silence between you was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid, everything you had both been too afraid to confront. But now, in the quiet of the hospital room, with the flowers inside you on the verge of consuming you, there was a new possibility blooming—a chance for something real.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Zayne smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Then don’t.”

The decision still weighed heavily on you—the surgery, the flowers, the uncertainty of what the future would bring. But in this moment, with Zayne by your side, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all.

The tension in the room hung thick as you gazed at Zayne, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his hand holding yours like an anchor. You could feel the weight of your decision pressing down on you, the reality of your situation still swirling in your mind.

The surgery—the removal of your feelings and the flowers that had ravaged your body—was supposed to be your salvation. It was supposed to be your way out of the pain, the only option you had left to survive. But now, with Zayne in front of you, admitting the feelings you had thought would forever go unspoken, the certainty of that choice began to crack.

Could you really walk away from this now? From him?

With a deep, shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly to look into Zayne’s eyes, your hand still tightly clasped in his. The fear and confusion swirling in your chest didn’t vanish, but something else—a glimmer of hope—was beginning to take root.

“I can’t promise that this will work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you spoke the truth that trembled within you. “I don’t know if my feelings will ever go away, or if the flowers will stop growing…”

Zayne shook his head, his eyes softening. “I’m not asking for guarantees,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet intensity. “I’m just asking for a chance. A chance for us. I… I like you, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened as emotion swelled inside you. For so long, you had been ready to let go, to numb yourself to the possibility of anything more. But now, with him sitting by your side, his touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t thought possible, the idea of walking away felt unbearable.

You didn’t want to let go—not of him, not of what could be.

With a slow exhale, you made the decision that had been forming in your heart ever since Zayne walked through the door. “I’ll… I’ll delay the surgery,” you said softly, your voice wavering but resolute. “Just for now.”

Zayne’s grip on your hand tightened, relief flooding his expression as his shoulders sagged slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for giving this a chance.”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest, but the dread you’d carried for so long felt a little lighter, like a weight that was finally beginning to lift.

As the hours passed, Zayne stayed by your side, refusing to leave. He sat close, his presence warm and steady as he talked quietly with you about anything and everything—his work, your missions as a Hunter, the lives you both led before this moment. It was as if the space between you, once filled with unspoken tension, was slowly being bridged by the quiet understanding that had always been there but never fully acknowledged.

And as the evening settled over Linkon City, something unexpected began to happen.

The pressure in your chest, once unbearable, began to ease. The sharp, suffocating pain of the flowers pressing against your lungs softened. You coughed lightly, out of habit more than necessity, but there were no thorns, no petals. You touched your chest, almost disbelieving, feeling the absence of the usual tightness.

Zayne noticed immediately, his eyes widening as he watched you. “Y/N?” he asked, concern still lacing his voice.

You took a deep breath—a real, full breath—and felt the difference. “The pain,” you said slowly, your voice filled with disbelief. “It’s… it’s not as bad.”

Zayne’s eyes softened as he leaned closer. “The flowers,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. “They’re withering, aren’t they?”

You nodded, still too stunned to speak. The flowers that had been blooming within you for so long, the painful manifestation of your unreturned love, were beginning to wilt. The thorns were loosening their grip, the petals curling inward, no longer feeding off the relentless ache in your heart.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of relief, of hope. It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t a cure—but it was a start. A small sign that maybe, just maybe, your heart was beginning to heal.

Zayne squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He closes the distance between you, lips meeting the skin of your forehead.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you let out a small, shaky laugh, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. “I missed you so bad,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Zayne smiled, the warmth in his expression lighting up the room. “So did I.”

And with that, a fragile but beautiful sense of hope bloomed between you, far more powerful than any of the flowers that had once threatened to destroy you. 

As the night deepened, you knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, that your journey with Zayne was only just beginning. But for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid. You were ready to face whatever came next, together.

The flowers within you may have started to wither, but something far more enduring was taking their place—a glimmer of love, of possibility, of the future you could now dare to hope for. 

Zayne sat on the side of your bed, looking at you. You’ve just now realized the bag under his eyes and how much his hair wasn’t as kept as it always was. He looks tired. 

He holds your face again, looming close. You close your eyes and wait for him to close the distance. You can feel his breath on yours, slow and calming, until his lips softly land on yours. 

Back in the dimly lit underground of the N109 Zone, Sylus lounged in his usual chair, legs crossed casually as he flicked through his papers of work. Mephisto, his sleek, mechanical crow, perched on the edge of his desk. Its dark metal feathers glinted under the low light as its red eyes glowed with an eerie pulse. The crow had just returned from its latest mission, flying back from Linkon City with an update Sylus had been waiting on. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Mephisto clicked softly, a sign it had recorded new information.

With a tap on the crow’s head, Sylus activated the playback, listening intently as a holographic projection materialized in the air between them. It showed clips of Y/N, her once-pale face now regaining a hint of color, the dark shadows under her eyes starting to fade. She was walking through the corridors of Akso Hospital, slower than her usual stride, but there was an unmistakable strength returning to her movements.

Sylus smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She’s getting better,” he murmured, satisfied. His crimson eyes flicked over the scenes of Y/N interacting with Zayne, watching as she spoke with him, her body language more relaxed than it had been in weeks. He noted the way Zayne hovered protectively, never too far, a subtle guardian by her side.

Mephisto clicked again, relaying more footage from its surveillance of the city. Sylus took it all in, his mind piecing together what had unfolded. Y/N had made her choice—not to go through with the surgery just yet. Instead, she was taking her chances with Zayne, exploring what could be between them.

Sylus’ fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair as he considered it. He’d always respected Y/N’s strength, admired her resilience even when she was at her weakest. That she had survived the Hanahaki long enough to make it back to Linkon—and now, was seemingly thriving—was a testament to her will.

“You made the right call, sweetie,” he said to no one in particular, his voice low but approving.

Mephisto fluttered its wings, a sound like the shifting of gears, and Sylus gave the crow a nod of approval. He was satisfied with what he saw. Y/N had her path now, and though Sylus knew better than to interfere too much in her affairs, he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride at her recovery.

“Keep an eye on her, Mephisto,” he muttered, his voice turning sharp again. “But let her be. She’s strong enough to handle things from here.”

The mechanical crow clicked in acknowledgment before it took off into the air, disappearing through one of the many grates in the ceiling, off to continue its watch from the shadows. Sylus watched it go, the flicker of a smile lingering on his lips.

Y/N would be fine. She had her own battles to fight now, and with Zayne by her side, she had a chance. That was all Sylus could have hoped for.

With a quiet sigh, he stood up and headed toward the doorway, his boots echoing against the metal floor. There were other things to handle in N109, but for now, knowing that Y/N was on her way to healing—both from the flowers and from the tangled feelings that had plagued her—was enough to put his mind at ease.

As Sylus watched Mephisto disappear through the grate, the flicker of satisfaction from Y/N’s recovery still lingering, a sudden tightness gripped his chest. It wasn’t the usual tension from a long day in the shadows of N109—it was sharper, more visceral. His brows furrowed, and before he could fully process the sensation, a sharp cough escaped his throat.

He doubled over slightly, hand instinctively rising to his mouth. For a moment, the metallic taste of blood made him grimace, but as he pulled his hand away, what caught his attention was the small, delicate object that had landed on his palm.

A petal.

The sight of it made Sylus freeze. He stared at the soft, pastel pink petal—a contrast to the dim, metallic world around him. His eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The Hanahaki Disease. He’d seen its ravages before, watched Y/N suffer under its grasp. But this? His own symptoms? He couldn’t quite believe it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, tossing the petal onto his desk. The sharp throb in his chest hadn’t fully subsided, but it wasn’t the same as what he had witnessed in Y/N. There was no choking on thorns or overwhelming floral invasion. This was... different. A strain less aggressive, yet unmistakable in its cause.

Hanahaki. Unrequited love.

Sylus let out a low, humorless chuckle, his crimson eyes darkening as the realization hit him. He was no stranger to matters of the heart, but he’d always kept those feelings locked away, never giving them enough room to grow—or so he thought. This was proof that something had taken root, something he couldn’t deny anymore.

And there was only one person who came to mind.

Y/N.

He didn’t need to ask himself why. Seeing her leave, watching her struggle to fight the same disease, knowing he couldn’t do more than offer her shelter and assistance—it had stirred something in him. A feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. He had helped her out of concern, out of duty, out of their connection—but there had been something more.

The petal on his desk was proof of that.

Sylus stared at the petal on his desk, its delicate form unmistakably belonging to a lily. The pristine white hue stood out starkly against the gritty backdrop of his desk, a contrast that was almost mocking. Of course, it had to be lilies—symbolic of purity and renewal, the very antithesis of his hardened existence in N109. He couldn’t help but scoff at the irony.

Lilies.

He picked up the petal between his fingers, turning it over as he examined it closer. Unlike the thorn-covered roses Y/N had been coughing up, these petals were smooth, soft, and almost harmless in comparison. But he knew better. They were far from benign.

The fact that he was coughing up lilies of all things wasn’t lost on him. They represented something gentle, something almost... fragile. But Sylus was anything but fragile, and yet, here he was, entangled in the same affliction that had nearly destroyed Y/N. He sighed, tossing the petal back on the desk, watching it flutter down like a weightless reminder of what had been growing inside him.

And now, there was no denying the truth—he had feelings for her. Feelings that he had buried so deep they’d only surfaced now, in this frustrating, blooming form. Unlike Y/N’s roses, his strain wasn’t lethal, but that didn’t make it any less concerning. He wouldn’t let it get worse. He refused to be bound by something as foolish as unspoken love.

He glanced at his comm device again, fingers hovering over the screen before he pressed down, confirming the appointment with Dr. Maren for the next day. He wouldn’t let this linger, not like Y/N had. Sylus didn’t like loose ends, and this, now that he knew, was a loose end he intended to tie up.

But the thought of Y/N remained in his mind as he sat there, the image of her recovery still fresh. She was doing better. The flowers inside her were beginning to wither, a hopeful sign that her heart was healing. That gave him some measure of relief, knowing she was on a path that might lead to happiness—whether it involved him or not.

As for him... Sylus wasn’t sure where this would end. He wasn’t the type to dwell on love or let emotions cloud his judgment. But the lilies said otherwise. They were there, quietly blooming inside him, pushing him toward feelings he hadn’t intended to face.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, standing up from his desk, “I guess we’ll see how this plays out.”

The mechanical whir of Mephisto’s wings echoed faintly in the background as the crow returned from its surveillance, landing quietly on its perch. Sylus spared it a glance, giving the bird a small nod. There was always work to do, but for now, he had to focus on his next move.

Tomorrow, he'll see the doctor. And then, maybe—just maybe—he’d figure out what to do about the lilies. 

Sylus exhaled deeply, the weight of this new revelation pressing down on him. He couldn’t afford to let this disease grow. It wasn’t as severe as Y/N’s strain—he was lucky in that sense—but the fact that he had symptoms at all meant it could worsen if left unchecked.

He reached for his comm device, his fingers moving with purpose as he scrolled through his contacts. He needed answers, and he knew exactly who to call.

“Dr. Maren,” Sylus said as soon as the connection clicked. “I need to schedule a check-up. Something’s come up.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Maren responded, the voice calm but attentive. “Sylus? I thought your plan to draw Y/N to Linkon worked. What’s the issue?”

Sylus leaned back in his chair, glancing at the petal again before he spoke. “It’s me. But it’s a mild strain.”

Another silence, this one longer, before Maren’s voice returned, more serious this time. “That’s not something to take lightly, even if it’s a mild case. How long have you had symptoms?”

Sylus closed his eyes, recalling the subtle tightness that had been plaguing him over the past few weeks. It hadn’t been enough to alarm him, but now it all made sense. “Not long. It’s manageable for now. But I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’ll fit you in tomorrow,” Maren replied swiftly. “Come to the clinic. We’ll run some tests.”

Sylus nodded to himself, feeling the weight of his situation sink in. “I’ll be there.”

He ended the call and leaned forward, hands steepling under his chin as he stared at the petal once more. It was a strange irony, being caught by the same disease that had nearly claimed Y/N. But there was no time for self-pity. He was pragmatic by nature—he would handle it like everything else in his life: methodically, without hesitation. 

Still, the realization that his feelings for Y/N had manifested into something so tangible made him pause. He had always kept his emotions buried, hidden under layers of cynicism and practicality. Now, those feelings were blooming—literally—whether he liked it or not.

A slow, grim smile crept onto his lips as he muttered to himself, “How funny.”

The next day would bring answers. But for now, Sylus remained where he was, staring at the petal on his desk, caught between amusement and resignation. His finger runs on his temple, looming over his crimson eye. 

At least he wasn’t dying. And if he would have to take the surgery, it didn’t matter. He would always remember you. Because your connection knows no physical bounds. You’re always connected. The string of fate connecting the two of you cannot be cut that easily.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[xhoneygirlxx]

Watermelon Sugar

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.

warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.

if I miss anything plz lmk!

a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)

The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.

It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.

A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?

"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.

It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.

You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.

People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.

You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.

Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.

You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.

So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.

Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.

"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"

Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.

"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.

You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.

"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.

"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."

The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.

Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.

"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.

"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.

You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.

"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.

"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."

When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.

When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.

Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.

Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.

"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.

"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.

"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.

"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.

Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.

"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.

When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.

"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.

It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.

Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.

When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.

Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.

"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.

Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.

When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.

Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.

You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.

You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.

It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.

You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.

Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.

"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"

"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.

He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.

The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.

It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.

"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.

Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.

"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.

You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.

Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.

He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.

Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.

When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.

Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.

"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.

You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think I went to outer space for a second there."

A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.

"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.

"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."

"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.

Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.

"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."

_

_

_

Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!

_

_

_

[wangxianficrecs]

Posting Schedule, Changes & A Small Break

~*~

My fellow wangxianists.

I am very sorry that I have to make this announcement, but I need to take a little break.

Let me start by promising that I will not abandon this blog and I will definitely continue posting, but I really do need a break. For the past two years, I managed to keep this blog running with daily fic recs, no matter what was happening in my own life. I prepared the queue for when I had a major surgery last year and for when I went on a long vacation this year, but currently the queue is empty and I can't bring myself to hastily throw another post together just so that I will not miss my daily fic rec.

In the beginning of August, I moved across the country and started a new job. It's my dream job and I worked hard for literal years to have this opportunity, but it's also very demanding and I often come home and continue working. I just don't have as much time anymore to read fics and then prepare a fic rec post (write the rec itself, make the graphic, format everything, etc.) and I found myself only hastily reading whatever short fic came across my dash and then quickly throwing a post together and it's becoming an unfortunate pattern. I don't want fic-reading burnout. I love reading fic and I love this fandom very much. I also still want to have enough time to write my own fanfics. It's my dearest hobby and I often neglected it to keep the WangxianFicRecs queue running.

Needless to say, things have to change and here's what I decided so far:

No more daily fic rec posts

From now on, I will add all posts to the queue. My own recs, Follower Recs, Proud Author Spotlights, Event Boosts, everything will get added to the queue. So on some days, e.g. you might get one of my recs or your might get a Follower Rec. And if there is no post for a day or two, that's fine too.

Bringing back old recs

There are over 1.400 bookmarks in the WangxianFicRecs Collection and we made posts for all of them. Going forward, whenever the queue is looking a little sad and empty, I will queue some of our old recs similar to Throwback Recs. I'm sure there are more than a few recs you missed originally.

Housekeeping

I will take a break for at least a week (I'll add all submissions in the inbox to the queue) and take some time to think about how I want to run this blog going forward. I've also promised myself to finally clean up our tag page and maybe get a better system sorted for making the graphics.

In the meantime, thank you for your support and being such lovely followers! I really love running this blog and I want to keep loving it going forward.

Love, Kay.

[satxnsupreme666]

Immortal: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @agathaharkness-simp

Summary: Agatha is immortal and she fell in love with you when she was still in the coven, she lost you in the past but even when you reincarnated in different periods of time and in different countries, she always found you again and again because she promised herself she would always find you, and this time is not going to be different, she kept falling in love with your soul every time.

Based on the song Immortal by Reinaeiry

Warnings: Angst with happy ending

Word count:  9K+

Author’s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it!

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange @eliscannotdance

Sometimes when I look in the mirror

I still see your face resting on my shoulder

 It was not easy for Agatha to be without you, she missed you all the time, but waiting for your soul to return to earth one more time so she could find you again was the only thing that made her feel that everything would be alright

She used to think of her life just as a tragedy, but waiting for you was the only thing that made this worthy, and she came to the conclusion that it was a beautiful tragedy, the only thing she hoped and craved the most was that you would come back to her once again to be with her, by her side loving her just like you knew how to love her.

You were her life and she would never stop looking for you, it didn’t matter how far you were, if she felt you again, she will go wherever you were, no matter what.

She still remembered the first time she met you, the first time of many times.

She still smiled at the memory of back in the coven in 1685, it had been so many years, many centuries, and still even after all this time, she was sure, her feelings for you would never change.

Agatha was walking through the misty forest because she loved watching the fog coming down in the evening, Agatha thought that day would be another calm and normal day, but the moment she heard the sound of footsteps in a hurry running right towards her, she knew this would be a different day, she felt curious because no one else knew this place, it was weird to hear someone coming to this forest.

The footsteps became louder and louder and before she knew, something made her fall to the grass, the impact was a little harsh and when she lifted her head to see who was beside her, she saw you.

You were breathing quickly and your breathing was heavy too because you had been running for the past thirty minutes, but you had tripped over a branch, this couldn’t be happening, how did the witch-hunters find you? You were not sure but you had to keep running, otherwise they would catch you.

Agatha saw the worried look on your face and she didn’t understand why you were in such a rushed state until she heard some men yelling not so far away.

“Catch her, she’s a witch”

Agatha immediately understood what was going on and why you were running.

You were about to start running again but you felt a hand grabbing yours, stopping you from going away.

“Wait, don’t go”

That was the first time you saw her, with her messy long hair, and her beautiful blue eyes, however you didn’t have much time to admire her beauty, because you had to go.

“I have to, they’re coming for me” You said to her with tears in the corner of your eyes, you were afraid, like you’ve never been before.

“You do not have to worry, I can protect you” The girl in front of you showed you her hand that had started to glow purple and you were surprised, that meant she was a witch too.

“There are many of the them coming” You whispered in a hurry, she quickly stood up from the floor, never dropping your hand and she helped you to stand up, but when you were about to stand straight, you felt a sharp pain in your ankle and this made you lean against the girl in front of you.

She noticed this and she quickly put her arm around your waist, helping you to lean more onto her, holding a strong grip on your waist.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry, they won’t get to you, I won’t let them, alright?” You quickly nodded and when you heard the footsteps of the men coming closer to the both of you, you saw how the girl’s eyes started to glow purple too, you were amazed, you’ve never seen another witch in your entire life, you were always trying to hide your true self from everyone and that´s why you never got to understand all of your powers, and what you could do.

But before you could keep thinking a wave of purple power came from the blue-eyed girl and when you heard grunts and whimpers in front of you and then the sound of people falling to the floor with a thud you saw how all the witch-hunters were laying on the floor.

You were surprised you´ve never seen something like that, that had been incredible.

Agatha still remembered the way you quickly turned your head to look at her, she could see the excitement in your face, the fear you had been feeling had vanished and your expression showed it. Since that moment Agatha knew she wanted to be with you, Agatha promised herself she would make you fall in love with her, Agatha would do everything she needed to see your beautiful smile.

“That was wonderful, how do did you do it? Also, my name´s y/n” You said to her with a shy smile, she still had her arm around your waist and Agatha couldn’t help but smile to.

“Thank you, you have a beautiful name, I´m Agatha Harkness” Agatha still remembered the feeling she had got when she first met you and she was sure, she would always feel her face getting warm at the memory.

Since that day you had arrived to the coven, you never separated from her, she took you into the coven, and everyone their accepted you, if someone just dare to give you a bad look she would make sure they regretted it, you were all the time with her, no one would see one of you without the other, if people were looking for you they always knew wherever Agatha was, you would be near, it was the same for Agatha, if they were looking for her, they would just look if you were near, she loved that everybody knew that.

One of her favorite memories of you back in the coven was one of when you had asked her to teach you how to have a better control of your magic, and she gladly told you she would teach you; the way your face had lit up when she agreed was one of the expressions she would never forget from you, the way your eyes would beam in excitement and joy, she just loved every one of your expressions, and Agatha knew that no matter how many years, even centuries took her to finally meet you again, she would never forget you.

The day you were training with her in the forest, she had asked you to close your eyes and to focus on what you were feeling, she had asked you to tell her what you felt, Agatha placed herself behind you, putting her hands on your waist to whisper comforting words to your ear, she was feeling nervous because she was in love with you, and even though she was sure you liked her back, she still couldn’t help but feel a little insecure.

But Agatha was surprised when you turned yourself to be face to face with her, you put your hands on her collar shirt and you grabbed her a little to make her lean into you and you kissed her.

Agatha was surprised, because she had though she would be the one to make the first move, but she wasn’t complaining, she loved it, Agatha carefully pulled you closer to her, with a firm but soft grip on your waist, she loved the feeling of your hand caressing her face while your other hand rested on her shoulder, it was a magical moment for her, the sound of the birds around the forest, the wind hitting against the trees and making their leaves and branches move in a steady way, she could have said that was everything she could hear, but she could swear that the loudest sound was her beating heart, she was afraid you could hear it and that you would notice how nervous she was.

Agatha touched her lips with the tip of her fingers and she smiled at the memory of centuries long ago, it had been your first kiss with her, and she would never forget the feeling, she treasured all of you’re the memories she had of you, and she was afraid of forgetting them, her memories of you were everything she praised when you weren’t with her, she found herself thinking about you and everything you had passed with her every single day.

Agatha was looking at her reflection in the mirror and she thought of you, how could it be if you were still with her by her side? She knew she would be holding your hand and resting your head on her shoulder just like you used to do, she would be stroking your hair whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

All the times she had lost you she felt part of herself been ripped away from her, she knew it had to happen, you were a mortal, but she would never get used to the awful feeling of losing you.

Nothing would ever compare to that first time it had happened, she felt she would die at any moment, she wanted to die to be with you on the other side, Agatha didn’t want to keep going without you.

Life had been really unfair, she had met you when you were running away from the with-hunters and she had saved you, but the second time you encountered with-hunters, that atrocious time she couldn’t save you, and she blamed herself, if only she had been faster than you, if only you hadn’t pushed her against the floor to prevent the bullet from hitting her, if only she had been faster to drag you to the floor with her, you wouldn’t have been shot by that man. You had sacrificed herself for her, you had protected her when she had promised to protect you, and she couldn’t even do it.

Agatha used her powers to throw the man against a tree with a cracking sound she knew he was not alive anymore, but that didn’t bring her comfort, she had to saved you, Agatha tried to used her powers to heal the wound, but it was too late, she couldn’t do anything, she really tried to save you but she couldn’t, you were her life, you were her light, and you had been taken away from her.

Your beautiful face was pale, you did not have any expression on your face and it had been the worst she had ever seen, she didn’t want to keep going anymore, she would have wished she had died in that instant to be with you, but she knew it was impossible for her to die, for the first time in her life, she knew this was a curse on her, she thought you and her would live a long life, she thought you and her would share your life, and she even had looked in forbidden books for something to make you immortal like her, but she was too late, she hadn’t been quickly enough to make you live longer, and she hated it, you were everything she needed and now she had lost you, you weren’t with her anymore, and she felt devastated.

Since that day, no one in the coven saw her smile again, wherever she went, she would always go alone, she dedicated herself to just learn more, she just studied giant books about different types of magic, she focused herself in getting every type of knowledge she could, she even started to study dark magic, she had tried to look for different ways to get rid of her magic, she just wanted to be with you, and it didn’t matter dark magic was forbidden, because she didn’t care anymore.

Even the day when the other witches made a trial against her, she hadn’t cared that they had banned her from the coven, they would never allow her in it, and Agatha couldn’t really care, without you, nothing felt the same.

 And my heart beats so fast

That I start to feel alive again

 Agatha kept looking for a solution, she tried many spells to try to break her curse, but nothing had worked out.

She travelled to different places, even different countries to gain more knowledge, but she found nothing about what she wanted to know, Agatha just felt hopeless, she cried herself to sleep, she missed you a lot, she needed you with her, Agatha just wanted to hold you against her when you were about to sleep like she used to do in the coven in your shared bedroom, all of your memories made her cry, she would never stop loving you, and she knew she would always miss you, without you nothing made sense.

Agatha never stopped thinking about you, how could she?

One day in 1775 while she was in France walking through the shore with a book in her hand, she was admiring the view, thinking about her long-lost lover, there was no time in which she didn’t think about you, you were in her thoughts all the time, and the memory of you was everything she had to cling to.

The white foam vanishing in the sand, the waves crashing against the shore and the feeling of the water against her bare feet, the humid sea air, everything about the place was beautiful, but nothing would ever compare to your beauty, how could it be if you were still with her? Would you have loved the beach? Would you have liked to collet seashells just like back in the coven where you loved to collect small rocks from the river where you used to pass the time, she still had all of your belongings with her, some of the dresses you used to wear back in the 1600s, your collection of little rocks, she loved to hear you talking about them, she never got tired of it, she loved everything about you, she also had with her your three favorite books about plants, all of these things were a treasure and she would always keep them with her.

She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn’t realize she was coming closer to a woman sitting on some rocks, in front of her was a canvas and in her hand, she was holding a palette, and with the other hand she was holding a brush, she was painting on the blank space of the canvas, when Agatha notice that woman, she felt something, it was a feeling she couldn’t describe, that woman was kind of familiar to her, she felt she had seen her before, but where? She was not sure, she felt intrigued, her heart started to beat faster, and with each step she took her breathing became heavier, that woman resembled her beautiful lost lover of years ago, but how could it be? It had to be an illusion a simple beautiful and incredible illusion; how could it be?

Agatha walked faster towards the woman and when she was close enough tears started to fall from her eyes, she was just like you, her hair, the sitting position was the same as the way you used to sit, it was the same posture you had, the way the woman tilted her head it was the same way you used to tilt your head to the side when you were focusing on something, she was the same as you! It was your face, your hair, your expressions, how could it be? Was it true? Her wish had been listened?

Agatha couldn’t believe it, was it you? Were you real? The only thing that was different from you were the clothes, but apart from that, everything about you was the same.

Agatha didn’t realize she had been staring for more than ten minutes until she heard a gasp.

This time when she saw the woman´s eyes, she knew it was you, she would always recognize your eyes, Agatha was sure it was you, her beautiful y/n, she had found you again.

“I didn’t realize you were there” When she heard your voice, more tears started to fall from her eyes, it was the same as she remembered years ago, she wanted to hug you and tell you how much she loved you, but she had to contain herself, she couldn´t rush things.

“Are you alright?” You had stood up from where you were sitting and you came quickly towards her, you took her hand softly and Agatha loved the way you caressed the back of her hand with your thumb, even your touch felt the same, the same touch she had craved for many years, you were like a dream, she had wished so many times that you would come back to her one way or another and now that you were here, again, in front of her, with  the sound of the waves hitting against the shore, the seagulls screeching in the distance, and you in front of her, it was the most amazing view, and she would always picture this in her mind, the second time she got to see you again for the first time in many years.

Agatha wiped the tears away from her face with her left hand and she slowly nodded and when she saw how concerned you were, she couldn’t help but smile a little, you had looked at her like that many times.

“I´m sorry, it´s just that your painting is beautiful, and I was feeling a little melancholy, and I couldn’t help myself” You smiled back at her and your hand never left hers.

“Thank you so much, I completely understand how you feel, the beauty of the nature can be overwhelming” You said with a shy smile, how much she had missed your smile.

“Would you like to stay here for a little more?” You had asked her and she eagerly nodded, you sat back on the rock and you patted on the rock next to you with your hand, so that she would sit next to you.

“My name´s y/n by the way”  And just like centuries ago, like she was the first to say her name, Agatha felt more tears threatening to fall from the corner of her eyes, she remembered when she first met you back in the misty forest, but what she thought was the most surprising thing, it was that you had the same name.

“My name´s Agatha” Agatha saw how you turned your head to look back at her again, you had a curious expression, and she could see that you were examining her face, she gave you a smile and this time you talked again.

“I know this will sound a little bit weird, but I feel as if I´ve already met you, you look so familiar” When you said that, Agatha felt her heart melting, part of you remembered her, and she couldn’t happier, she had been right, it was you! You were finally back with her, and this time she would make sure you never went away, this time, Agatha would make you fall in love again with her, just like she had done years ago.

And the rain, it washes away all the pain

‘Cause it feels like the sound of your voice

She saw that you took the pallet again in your hand and with the brush on the other hand you started to examine the colors in your palette.

“How do you get the color of the sea?” Asked Agatha, she already knew how but she just wanted to hear your voice as much as she could.

“That´s easy, you take the a little of viridian green, and a little of the titanium white, this way you´ll get a light tone of green, you separate these colors and then you take the cerulean blue and in case you don´t have cerulean blue you can use a little of Phthalo blue, and in the end you add just a little amount of yellow and then you mix all of these colors together” Agatha saw the way you passionately talked about the oil colors and the way you carefully mixed them on the palette, when you finally got a turquoise color you proudly showed it to her.

“This way you will get a really beautiful light turquoise color, and if I want a darker tone, I just add a little bit more of viridian green or cerulean blue, that way I can play a little with the tones”

You said with proud smile on your face, you always spoke with the same passion about the things you loved the most.

“You´re so beautiful” Agatha blurted out but this time Agatha didn’t feel nervous, she was pretty confident, she saw how you bit your lip, the same way you used to do it, and she loved everything about you, the old gestures and the new one she saw in you, like the way now you move a little your hands when you were feeling a little nervous, she loved you so much.

“Thank you, you´re really beautiful too, Agatha” You said with a timid smile, Agatha saw the way you brushed away a strand of your beautiful hair, you looked so delicate under the sunlight, she wanted to picture you like this forever.

This was your second chance to be together, and she wouldn’t miss the opportunity, Agatha offered you to help you with your painting, she just wanted to be near you, and of course you said yes, if you had to paint something for a job, Agatha would be there with you, watching you being so concentrated, she loved watching you, you were so beautiful, she didn’t want to waste more time, she wanted to kiss you and hold you in her arms, but she didn’t want you to be scared, she wanted to take things slowly but she really wanted to be more than just a friend to you.

On a sunny day when Agatha watched you from her usual spot at your house from a chair, she had her chin resting in her hand while she watched you work on another painting, she saw you had some stains a paint in your hair and she loved the way you tilted your head a little to the side watching the angle of the canvas, she was mesmerized by you.

“What do you think?” You asked her standing from your sit and you showed her your painting, Agatha was astonished, you had painted her, with her hand on her chin while she was watching you.

“It´s amazing” Said Agatha and she stood from her chair and she walked towards you, you smiled at her and before you could say something else, Agatha came closer to you and she placed one of her hands on your chin and the other on your waist, this time Agatha had been the one to kiss you first, finally Agatha felt your lips once again, they were so soft, she could smell your perfume mixed the smell of the paint, she heard faint moans coming from your mouth and she loved it, Agatha caressed the soft skin of your face and you rested you passed your arm over her shoulder while the other remained on her arm, both of you had your eyes closed and once again, Agatha pressed you closer to her body, embracing you.

The second time she met you, she certainly knew you were her soulmate and no matter what, she would always found you again, Agatha remembered one time when both of you were laying on your bed, your legs were tangled with hers, your head was resting on her shoulder and she was reading French poetry to you, she remembered what you had told her after Agatha finished reading a poem about past lives.

“You know what? I believe in past lives, and I believe that there are many lives after this one” You stopped talking for a minute and she saw that you were thinking what to say next, she waited patiently for you to keep talking and she brought her hand to stroke your hair.

“I feel this amazing connection with you, and I think that before this life I will meet you again, and that´s what I want the most, I love you Agatha and I want to share as many lives as possible with you” In that moment, Agatha started to cry, if she could she would make everything to keep you always with her, just the way she was, she wanted you to be immortal just like her, so that you would never leave her side, but still there wasn’t anything she had found about this, she loved you so much, and she didn’t want you to leave her again, but she knew this was life and you would have to part form this life, but this time she knew, she would meet you again, and that was the only thing that reassured her just a little.

“I feel a strong connection with you too, doll, and just as you I believe in past lives, and I´m sure we were together in a different life, and I´m sure that after this life we will still be together, I will find you again my love, and we will be able to love each other for many years more” At this point you were crying just like her, Agatha loved you too much and she just wanted to share all her life with you, Agatha promised herself to always find you again, no matter how much time it took her, she would always look for you, you and her would share many lives, and she would make sure of that.

And I’m comforted by the sweet smells of dew

Because the sunrise reminds me of you

This second time Agatha got to share twenty years with you, and they were the most amazing years of her long life, she loved everything about her life with you, she learned more things about you this time, you had painted many things all through these years, you were an amazing painter, you went for long walks around the beach, she would link your arms with hers and that way you would go to walk around the shore, with your bare feet touching the warm water of the sea, you would sit with her for hours to appreciate the marvelous views of the coast, sometimes the two of you would go into the sea, at the start you were a little afraid of the deep ocean, but she reassured you that she would always hold you against her, and that made you feel protected, with her you always felt protected, and you loved it, Agatha placed herself behind you holding you close to her by your waist and her chin resting on your shoulders Agatha loved the way you used to pressed your hands on her hands resting on your waist, she would never get tired of this feeling, you were the love of her life.

These years were amazing, until you had to part from this life again, and this time it had been due to an illness, she didn’t know what it had been, one day you were alright and the other, you couldn’t stand up from your bed, she hated to see you in pain, she couldn’t bear to see you this way, she used her magic to try to heal you, but she didn’t understand why it wasn’t working, she made herbal teas and she tried different spells, but none of them worked, why was this happening to you? She just wanted to be with you a little bit more, but also, she couldn’t stand the way you were suffering.

She decided to tell you about her power, she showed you what see can do and she can´t help herself from crying in front of you, she told you about your past life with her and how she is angry because it doesn’t matter what she can do, she can´t help you get better, she is kneeling in front of your shared bed while she holds your hand with a soft but firm grip, she´s afraid you could vanish and she doesn’t want to accept what will happen next.

“Oh Agatha my love, I always knew I would share many lives with you, and I´m sure, as I told you years ago, that we will find each other again, and if I can´t find you first, you will do it for the both of us, you do not have to be angry, I´m happy I meet you, and I´m happy that I got to live the most amazing twenty years of my life with you, what I had with you was a gift, and I will always treasure all this time I spent with you, we will meet again, you don´t have to be sorry because no matter what, we will always find each other again” You whispered to he while some tears fell from your eyes, Agatha wiped them away from your face and she kissed your knuckles.

“I promise you; I will find you again, I will always love you and I won´t stop looking for you, I promise y/n” Agatha said, she couldn’t stop her sobs, it was too painful, she was going to lose you for the second time, and even if she knew she would find you again, that didn´t make this any less painful.

Your last words to her were “Je t´aime” and Agatha found herself crying over those simply yet so beautiful words for her.

“I love you too, my love” She couldn’t believe it, you were gone again, she knew she would meet you again, but how many years have to passed for that? She would miss you terribly, all of these years would be a beautiful memory of you waiting for the next time she got to find you one more time.

 Since the second time you were taken away from her again, this time it took longer for Agatha to find you, there was no trace of your soul anywhere, she didn’t feel you, where was her beautiful lover? She missed you so much, she felt there was this part of her that was missing, Agatha needed you a lot.

After more years that Agatha couldn’t find you, she felt desperate, traveling from one country to the other, searching for you, every time hoping you would be somewhere but, you were never there, she couldn’t find you, where had your soul gone? Where were you?

After all these years she finally started to understand the reincarnation,  after reading about it in different books, she came to understand that one person could live multiple times, it was a cycle, but sometimes it could take many years for a soul to reincarnate once again, she believed the human soul was eternal, and that you and her were destined to be together, she just had to wait a little bit more, she could wait many time, but the pain would always last.

 Agatha found herself looking for more knowledge so when the next time she finally meet you again, this time she wanted you to be able to live with her as many years as her, she just wanted you to have a longer life like her, the thought of sharing her life with you in eternity felt so amazing, it would be heaven on earth with you.

But this time she had to wait, it had happened over two centuries, and still she hadn’t felt you again here on earth, where had you gone? Where had your soul gone? All these centuries and Agatha still kept many of your belongings, your collection of rocks from your first shared life with her back in the coven, the painting you had made of her back while you were living in France with her, some of your brushes and some other paintings you had made, some pieces of clothes that had belonged to you, letters from your an your favorite books, she had all of these things safe inside a beautiful old wooden box, you and her had painted the box with your favorite colors, and Agatha had loved the result, after your death she would have loved to stayed more time in the pretty house you two had shared, everything reminded her of you, your paints, your brushes, all your paintings, of course it had to be that way, she would always love this house and she would make sure no one touched this sacred place, she would have loved to stay here with the memory of you lying next to her in your bed, but she didn’t know where you were going to appear again, in which country you were going to come next time, and she also needed to keep looking for more magical knowledge, even if it hurt her to leave her home, she had to, next time she would finally have an answer to have you with her forever.

 And I’ll always find you again and again

And I’ll love every version of you

 Centuries had passed and her hope never faded away, all these years she always had you in her mind, and just as time passed, she understood more about immortality and reincarnation, her magic was strong, but not strong enough to make someone immortal, she needed something more powerful.

So when Agatha felt a powerful magic in a town not so far away from where she was, she thought that maybe, just maybe this could help her, still she was really concerned about why she hadn’t found you again, and it frustrated her, she just wanted to see you again, but what if life had decided to make her wait more years to finally reunite with you again? She wanted to hug you so bad.

Agatha used to sleep with one of your favorite books in her hand at night, and sometimes Agatha would hold against her one of your old blouses, Agatha always dreamt of you, she just wanted to have you by her side one more time.

Agatha wished so many times to do everything with you, watching people through the periods holding hands and sharing their lives just made her missed you more, all the time she would wonder, what thing you would have loved the most about something in specific, like the time when she arrived to Lombardy, Italy, Agatha couldn’t stop thinking about how would it be to hold your hand while the two of you walked through the beautiful narrow cobbled streets, she was sure you would have loved it, how much she would have loved to walk side by side with you under the dim lights of the little lamps hanging from the walls, Agatha would have loved to be with you with all of these amazing views, but the only thing she could do was to wish, she couldn’t do anything else, every time she felt a hole in her heart because you weren’t there with her

The day she arrived to this place town called Westview Agatha realized there was something really powerful coming from here, it was an impressive magic, and she was more impressed when she recognized how everyone in this town was in some sort of mind control, everyone here in Westview had a role, all of them were acting in someone else´s illusion, but what dragged her attention the most was that the habitants here didn’t seem to be in pain, how was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed that mind control was painful? This was a mystery and even though she had gained a lot more knowledge about magic she had just some ideas of what this could be, but she wasn’t sure, so she would have to act as someone from here, Agatha just wanted to know if this power could help her, after understanding that the magic came from a person not a thing, she thought it would be great to try to talk to her, being close enough to her would help her to understand the magic, she wasn’t sure but she had to tried for you, she just wanted to be able to make you stay with her forever.

After welcoming Wanda to the block, Agatha went back to her “house” she would have time to explore the town a little bit more later, for now she just wanted to place your old things in her new house, she wanted to place some of the paintings on the wall, put your book on her nightstand and place your old clothes in her closet, it was like this all the time, she loved to do it because it made her feel like you were with her, of course she had hid your things so that Wanda didn’t suspect anything.

Agatha was about to open her door´s house after taking the things she had brought with her, but she was not expecting that someone else open the door for her, who could it be? Did she have a roommate?

But what she saw, made her feel alive one more time, you were there, in front of her, with a beautiful dress that match the time period you were in, you were here, you were right in front of her, your hair was in a ponytail with a pretty bow on it, your eyes, how much she had missed your eyes, she could see the same sparkle in your eyes, the same you had from your past lives you had shared with her, Agatha didn’t have enough time to process what was going because you threw yourself into her arms.

“Oh Agnes, you´re back from your trip, you do not know how much I´ve missed you” You were under Wanda´s mind control, and you were Agnes´ wife.

Agatha started to cry, it was a beautiful overwhelming feeling, you were back again, she hugged you so tight, she placed her arms around your waist and she pulled you closer to her, Agatha smelled your perfume, it was so good to have you back, this time, she would make sure that you stay with her forever, it didn’t matter what she had to do, she would make you stay for real.

“I´ve missed you so much, you have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you” Of course you didn’t understand the depth of these words, but it didn’t matter to her, she could finally hold you in her arms, once again she was touching you, she was feeling your soft hair, after centuries she could hear your voice again, and this made her feel alive again, Agatha felt overjoyed, she could share her life with you again, how much she wanted to make this chance the last one you could finally share an eternity with her.

Agatha separated herself from you to have a better look of your beautiful face, you were the same just like years ago, your expressions were the same, and this was fascinating, how couldn’t you remember everything from your past lives but still you had some of the same gestures, the way your face would make a concerned expression, the way you bit your lip a little and how you frowned your browns, they were the same gestures that she had fallen in love with centuries ago.

“You´re so beautiful” The way you lower your face a little at her compliment reminded her of the times the two of you were in France and she would always say how much she loved you, how you tried to hide your face a little.

“Oh Agnes stop” You said with a timid smile, the same one you had given her centuries ago in the coven, Agnes felt tears coming from her eyes again, this time they were happy tears, there was no more pain in her chest, all these years waiting for you had been worthy.

“What´s wrong my love?” The feeling of your soft hands on her face wiping the tears away was something she had craved for a long time, she put her hand over yours caressing the back of your hand with her thumb, she wanted to feel you more and she couldn’t wait for it, she took your hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Nothing y/n, is just, I really missed you a lot, being away from you felt like years, and now that I am back with you, I can´t help it, I love you with all my heart, and I´m glad to finally be here with you again” This time Agatha softly grabbed your face with her free hand and she left a soft peck on your lips, she wanted more, but the soft feeling of your lips against her helped her to ease the craving sensation a little, she had all the time with you, she could wait a little bit more, patience was something she had learned from all these years without you.

“I felt the same, I missed you so much, but now you´re back and we can enjoy our life together”  You didn’t know how much those words meant to her, to finally enjoy your life with her sounded amazing, and this time she was not going to lose you, she wouldn’t bare a third time losing you, she wasn’t sure she couldn’t stand it, not again.

“What do you have in there?” You had asked when you notice what she had in her hands

“These are reminders of beautiful memories I brought for you, I´m pretty sure you will like them” You nodded eagerly and you let her come in, she closed the door behind you, Agatha felt happy, she hadn’t felt this way in a really long time.

 And you’re never truly gone

As long as a part of you in me lives on

 Agatha had wanted to wake you up from the spell Wanda held you in, but she couldn’t, this was a strong magic, something she´d never seen before, but she never stopped looking for answers, the paintings of you past life were hanging on your walls, you had loved them, but one painting in particular made you feel something different whenever you looked at it, it was the one of Agnes´ portrait, but she looked a little different, she had a purple blouse and in the painting her hair was a little messy, it was your favorite painting because whenever you looked at it you felt a strange connection with it, you felt like if you had been there when this had been painted, it was a warm and strange feeling you got, there was another one that you loved, it was the one of a sea, Agnes had told you it was her favorite, you never asked why but you felt curious, you still remembered the first time you had looked at the painting of the sea, for a moment a thought of a beach like the same on the oil painting, made you remember a warm breeze and the sound of seagulls in the distance, you had thought the painter had made such a good job that it had captured their feelings, those were amazing pictures.

Agatha got to see the real time periods that Wanda was constantly changing in Westview, but nothing compared to how amazing was to have you here with her.

It was her chance to pass through all the time periods you couldn’t pass with her, she loved the way you look in all the different clothes, you were just beautiful and all of this had been a gift.

She got the chance to share with you all the time periods she couldn’t share with you, and Agatha loved it, she knew you were under Wanda´s spell, but she didn’t care at all, she loved to call you her wife, it was something she had wished for, and now that she had the chance she wouldn’t like it otherwise, Agatha wore her wedding ring with proud, everywhere she went, she had it with her, she loved it and of course you did the same.

You loved her and you were happy to share your life with this amazing woman, within you, you felt you had a strong connection with Agnes and you were sure she felt the same.

Lately you started to have some dreams, they were strange dreams about her, you just thought that maybe they didn’t mean nothing but they felt so real, like memories, you were not sure, and you really wanted to tell her about the dreams, but you weren’t sure, so you just decided not to share them.

They felt like memories, but you haven’t done any of that things, it was odd, you felt like you had pass through all of that, but how could that be even possible? The was this dream in which you were in a forest with Agnes, kissing each other and she was holding you against her, with your head resting in her shoulder, in all of these dreams you could swear you smelled every scent of your surroundings, the smell of the wet soil, and in all of your dreams there was this smell of oil paints and a vanilla scent, what was that? You couldn’t tell, you really didn’t want to forget any of these so you decided to write all of them in a little notebook you had in one of your drawers.

-

For her part Agatha had already discovered how Wanda managed to create everything in here, it was chaos magic, and she knew Wanda´s magic was linked to her own feelings, Agatha just needed a little of her magic for what she needed, but how could she get it? She had to do something to make Wanda use her powers, and a good amount of her magic, so the only things she could think of, was to send vision outside Westview, it would be the only way Wanda would use all of her powers, she knew it wasn’t the best idea but she really needed her magic.

So, Agatha planned everything, she would manipulate Vision a little, she just had to make him curious about what was outside, so she tricked him into thinking she was in pain and that she wanted to leave Westview, Agatha pleaded him to save all of you, and with that Vision walked to the limits.

Agatha knew she didn’t have much time for this, first of all she needed you to be safe, she couldn’t risk you again, Agatha used her powers to appear in your house.

“y/n? Where are you?” She asked when she noticed the light were off

“I´m here!” She heard you answering from your shared bedroom, Agatha went upstairs to look for you and when she entered to the room, she saw you were writing something down in a little notebook, she would have to ask you about that later.

“Doll, I need to make something, I will be here later, alright? But I need you to wait for me here, promise me, you will stay here inside our house” Agatha was almost pleading you, and even though you didn’t understand what was going on, you agreed.

“I promise you Agnes” She kissed you fiercely and she hugged you again.

“Good girl, I love you and y/n, I want to share my life with you forever” You frowned a little, you could see her hands were shaking a little, but you didn’t have the chance to ask her what was going on because she left your room in a rush, you really wanted to know what was happening but you had promised her to stay here, so you just did what she told you.

You went to your shared bed to lay a little to think about all of these dreams again, but you were dragged from your thoughts when you saw how the sky changed from the usual blue color to a red color, you were shock, you were pretty sure that was not normal, you were a little afraid.

The urge to go out of your house to look at what was going on was immense, but you had promised Agnes to stay inside, you were conflicted, would Agnes really know if you went outside? She would never know and you just wanted to have a better view of the sky, so you quickly went downstairs, this felt wrong, really wrong but you couldn’t help yourself.

The moment you opened your door a red wave of energy hit you, it made you step back and you were confused what had been that? Blinking several times, you tried to compose yourself, so you went to sit on your couch, what was all of this? You looked to everything around you, how long time have you been here?

-

Agatha just needed to get close enough to Wanda to absorb a little of her magic, that was everything she needed, but she had to be careful, Wanda seemed to be really mad and she didn’t want to start a fight with her, not now.

Agatha saw how she was trying to close the barrier again and the time Wanda closed her eyes, Agatha took this as an opportunity, stretching her hands out towards her, she started to absorb some of her magic, just a little and with that she would have enough power to make what she had wanted for years.

She stopped absorbing her magic when she felt it was enough, Wanda didn’t even notice and that was a good thing, she didn’t need Wanda to fight her, she just wanted to go back to you.

This would be the time, you won´t have to part from this life anymore.

With a flick of her hand she used her magic to go to your house, her excitement had been covered by worry, your door was open, what if something happened to you? No, no this time, not now when she finally had answers, Agatha quickly entered to your house and she felt relieved when she saw you in the couch, you were holding head In your hands, what was going on? Why had you left the door open?

“Y/n?” She whispered and she saw tears in your face when you lifted your head to look at her, Agatha didn’t know this expression, was it fear? Were you scared?

“Agatha?” How did you have called her?

“Is it really you? Agatha?” Was it true? Did you remember her? Agatha slowly nodded and walked closer to you, when she was right in front of you, she knelt on the floor, she recognized your expression, this time it was the same as the ones you have given to her centuries ago, was this real?

“Agatha, how much I´ve missed you, oh god, I remember everything!” Agatha caught you in her arms, your sobs echoing in her ears, you buried your face on her neck and she stroked your hair with her left hand, with her free hand she started to rock you back and forth while her fingers ran through your beautiful hair.

“I´ve missed for such a long time, and now you´re completely back, I won´t lose you again doll” You eagerly nodded into her neck, you just wanted to be with her for eternity, all of your dreams have been memories of your past lives, and in each one of them Agatha had been there with you.

“Agatha, I don´t want to be away from you, I love you, and all of my memories of these years ago with you are here, inside me, I feel everything, I don´t know how but, I remember all of that, I don´t want to die, I don´t want to be without you”

“This time you won´t go my love, all these years without you I kept myself looking for a way to make you stay with me, forever, I won´t lose you this time, you and I will be together for eternity, and now that I have the answer I want to make you just like me, you will live for centuries with me, would you like that?” Agatha asked you with pleading eyes, she wanted to make sure you were alright with this, and when you nodded eagerly, she took a deep breath.

“Close your eyes doll” You did as she said and you felt her placing her fingers on your temple and then you felt her soft lips on yours, it was a sweet kiss full of love, the kiss made you almost forget the sensation of what she was doing to you, you felt something strange all over you, you felt something covering your entire body but it was a warm feeling, you didn’t know what it was but you trusted Agatha with your life.

After what it felt like hours, Agatha broke the kiss and she pressed her forehead against your forehead.

“What did you do?” You asked with a smile, Agatha wiped some of the tears in your face away with her fingers.

“I made you immortal like me, listen carefully my love” She grabbed your face with her hands

“The magic I used is really powerful, remember our days back in the coven? When you didn’t know how to use your magic and I taught you?” You nodded, of course now your remembered them

“Well, I´m sure this will give you magic abilities, but your magic will be stronger, but you don´t need to worry, I will be here with you, I will teach you and I will take care of you, you don´t have to worry about anything” Now you had magic? Just like in the past? This was for sure a lot to take in, but you didn’t care about that, this time you will be able to finally share all of your life with her.

“I trust you, I know you will always help me, I´m happy to know I won´t die again, now everything will be different and I´m happy that I will get to finally be with you”  You were hugging each other on the floor, and maybe the world around you could have been crumbling, but that wasn’t important, what was important for you was that you were back with her again.

“Thank you for waiting for me” You said to her as you removed yourself from her a little to look right into her eyes.

“I will always wait for you, it was worth it, there were times in which I felt desperate because I wanted you to be with me, but I couldn’t do anything I just had to wait, but every time I found you, all the sadness and pain went away, you´re everything I need angel”  She whispered in your ear just as her hand grabbed yours, the sound of the rings hitting against each other made you realized you were married here and this made you smile.

“I know that we´re already married, but I would like to marry you again, this time for real” You smiled at her comment and you smirked a little

“Are you proposing to me?” You feigned shock and Agatha chuckled.

“Yes, but I will do it better next time, I want to surprise you” She said while playing with your fingers.

“We can go wherever you want, Italy, France, Greece, Slovakia, we can go to the first places we met, we can go to the beach we met centuries ago in France, there´s so many things I want to do with you” You couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, you wanted to do many things with her, and now you would have all the time in the world.

“We can plan all of this, we can decide where we can go, we don´t need to rush anymore my love, we will have all the time we want” Agatha nodded, you were right, you were not going anywhere, this time you will stay with her for all of the eternity, finally she would have everything she wanted, she was excited, she would have slow dances she had wished you and her shared, you will visit different countries and she was going to teach you everything she had learned through the years, nothing will take you away from her anymore, and this made her feel relieved, you were the love of her life and she was going to make you happy just like you had made her feel all this time, you and her were connected permanently, this time your love will last forever.

 ‘Cause I’ll always find you again and again