#we'll see if I still have time to do today's prompt as well

[the-insomniac-emporium]

SWORDTEMBER '24, DAY 7: FLOW

{Late because I got a terrible migraine out of the blue yesterday. Very happy with this one, and it references not only one of my main OCs, but the overarching plot of one of my original stories. Please enjoy!} -----

Item ID: 6O-2407 Item Name: Timekeeper’s Cutlass Category: ERROR://CLASSIFICATION INVALID://MANUAL USER INPUT: ARTIFACT Origin Point: Time Immemorial, Voided Owner: ■■■ ■■■■■■■■ (C), Triampheus ■■■■■■■■ (O) Description: A blade of a traditional Earthen design, reminiscent of the age of pirates. Approximately ■■ cm length, with a ■■ cm handle, ■■ cm at the widest point. Samples taken from the blade, hilt, and the guard overloaded the analysis unit. Scans were inconclusive upon repeated testing. Visual assessment indicates the item is most likely made from seaglass and driftwood. In place of a central fuller, there is a hollow middle filled with grains of sand, endlessly shifting from one end to the other, chased by a slow moving strand of water. An hourglass is carved into the bottom of the hilt. If alone with the item, one will hear the sound of rushing water (this sound is not picked up by any recording devices). Touching the item with bare skin induces hallucinations based on whoever previously touched it, regardless of whether or not one has met the previous individual. Cataloger’s Notes: I’m not bothering with any pretenses today. Truth of the matter is that we never should have gotten hold of this, I want nothing to do with it, and nobody is ever going to read this file other than myself (and even then, it will only be as a reminder to myself). As soon as I’m done recording these notes, this item is getting handed off to people far more qualified than myself. Every other record of this item will be wiped from FPA systems, even the backup servers. Nobody needs to know we had our hands on an artifact of this importance… nor do they need to know we unwittingly used it. May the Ancients forgive my sins, and the sins of my partner. We did not know. ERROR://FILE NOT UPLOADED TO PRIMARY SERVER://ERROR://PLEASE SYNC LOCAL FILES WITH CLOUD://ERROR://FILE SYNC CANCELED BY USER C.DELA://

-----

Cynthia should have known better. By now, she’s catalogued over a thousand items in the span of a decade, from weapons to ancient art, from contraband pharmaceuticals to exotic pets. On three occasions she has encountered items known as artifacts: Relics, both old and new, infused with terrible power. Each one has only briefly been held by the FPA, before being swiftly taken to those with higher authority. But even a minute in the presence of an artifact can change one’s life.

The Timekeeper’s Cutlass is not as obvious of an artifact as most. Whoever tried to mail it must not have known what it was, and those who handled it in between must have worn gloves. As soon as Cynthia was alone with the item, she felt its power, and heard the sea-song in the air. She knew, then, what thing lay on her desk. It was the first time she had ever been this close to an artifact, and her heart raced at the prospect of cataloging such a find. Who could blame her?

She did not forsake her duties, did not set out to play with it. Immediately, she made the proper phone calls, arranged the item’s retrieval first. Only then did she set out to log the details, knowing sooner or later Naomi would be stopping by to take her out for dinner. That was her excuse, maybe, that she’d only work until being interrupted. A foolish thought.

Artifacts set the time of all who touch them.

It only takes a single touch of her bare skin against the seaglass to “activate” the item. An accidental brush of her wrist against the material, a microsecond of contact, and Cynthia is no longer in her office. Now she is falling, falling, flying until she is in another body entirely, seeing through another’s eyes. Feeling what they feel. Voices whisper in her ears, overlapping until one word becomes clear: Triampheus. A Goddess, for one, but a common enough name among worshippers. Once the voices cut off, suddenly, Cynthia is free to witness glimpses into the life of another.

There is war. Long did it brew, across countless planets, at last stirred up by the atrocities of a few madmen. Flashes of combat, of death, a mentor laid to rest when a truce is broken. Rage. Sorrow. Desperation in the hearts of the viewpoint. It has to end. They will end it. Threats are made, are ignored, a display of power is taken too far. An entire planet held between their hands. One last warning, time for innocents to evacuate. Finally they are taken seriously.

But their control is not strong enough. They never wanted it to end this way. Blood from their eyes, their nose, their ears. Too much power- a Goddess channeled in mortal flesh. Either they break or the planet does, there is no letting go. The choice is made for them… and an entire world collapses in on itself. There is no more war, not anymore.

There is only a manhunt.

“Cynthia, please, please wake up,” Naomi’s voice cuts through the end of the vision, breaks away from what might be the future, draws her back into her body. Instantly she’s all but throwing herself into her girlfriend’s arms, pressing her face against Naomi’s neck and sobbing. There are no words to describe what she has seen.

“Don’t- don’t touch the sword,” Cynthia chokes out between sobs. For a moment there’s no sound other than her crying, Naomi going stiff. Was it too early in their relationship for this level of intensity? A few months was hardly enough time for Naomi to grow accustomed to the sort of things Cynthia has to inspect, but surely- her anxious thoughts are cut off by a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“I… I touched it. And I think- I hope- that we didn’t see the same thing. Because I… I really liked what I saw,” Naomi admits, in a reassuring whisper. One hand rubs gentle circles into Cynthia’s back as they sit together, and soon enough the crying slows, then stops. Finally, the archivist pulls back just far enough to look up with questioning eyes. Her curiosity overwhelms. “Telling you what I saw… I’m worried that it might change things. If… if that is the future. So, please, let me say no more than that there will be boundless joy. You will be safe, and happy, and you won’t be alone.”

Nothing could fully soothe Cynthia, not yet, but the words bring her a sense of hope. She may have dreamed of a stranger’s war, but Naomi had dreamed of the life that would come after. A life that would be shared with her.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[dwaekkicidal]

Curly Hair Routine with Changbin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Teaching Changbin how to take care of his curls. based off this post/request!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1k (how did i do this.. i thought it was like 500)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: none really :3 just fluff and mentioned that reader has longish, curly hair

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i saw a few moots repost that prompt and i have curly hair (like 3A/3B?) that i've been learning to take care of the last few years so :3 thought this was cyuuute!!! also probably gonna write chris' later today/tomorrow! (my insomnia came back so.. we'll see when it gets done LMFAO)

@chaeryred (also @httpdwaekki cause hehe) i hope you guys like it >< thought it came off a little messy but i still think its pretty cute

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

"YAH! IT'S TOO COLD"

"SIT STILL! I JUST HAVE TO WASH IT OUT-"

"NO!!!! MOM!!! HEEEEEEELP-"

After wrestling your boyfriend like a cat taking a bath, you managed to wash the rest of the conditioner out of his hair and wrap his head up in a towel. You sent him to sit on the floor in the living room while you went to grab all your products from your bedroom. Once you returned, you were met with the biggest pout you've ever seen mixed with the nastiest side eye known to man. His head is almost completely wrapped up in a towel, minus the big circle where part of his face peeks out, and his arms are crossed sassily.

You couldn't help but smile and chuckle, shaking your head as you dropped the products and tools on the couch. You sit directly behind him, putting your legs on either side of his shoulders and leaning him into you. He shivers and your heart pangs a little, but you lean forward and wrap your arms around him and rub them soothingly. A quiet 'hmph!' comes from him and you laugh again.

"I'm sorry, baby. You said you wanted to do my hair routine just like me. And I always end it off with rinsing with cold water." Your fingers sneak into the hole in the towel and pull it back some, exposing his cheeks more as well as some of his wet hair. He makes the angry noise again and throws a small fit, turning away from you and tugging the towel back to its previous position in defiance.

You peck his cheek a few times and combine it with a mumbled apology. Then a small smile forms on his face and you start ruffing the towel, rubbing your hands back and forth and using it to poke fun at him while also starting to dry his hair off. Giggles erupt from the both of you as he drops the tough act and reacts to the ticklish feeling, his distinct giggle ringing through your ears in the best way possible.

Once you both have calmed down, and he's no longer feigning distress, you start to gently dry his hair. "I brought a mirror too." His hair is mostly dry and you grab your brush before realizing that Changbin's eyes have been glued to the show on TV. This was supposed to be a learning experience so you wanted him to watch, but it was also endearing to see him trust you so blindly that he resorts to iPad-baby tendencies.

"Are you gonna watch me do it so you can learn, or was this just an excuse for you to get pampered?" You tease, tilting his head back gently so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles apologetically and reaches for the mirror, "Sorry, Bunny. Got a little distracted hehe. I am your apprentice tonight! Teach away, Jagi." You smile widely and lean down again to place a kiss on his lips. One he reciprocates it before fixing his posture and placing the mirror in position.

He then lowers the television down and sits there patiently, allowing you to take him through the steps and using the mirror to peek at what your hands are doing. You start it off by showing him the products and explaining what they do and then tell him how you're supposed to use them, using a strand of his hair as an example.

Each step doesn't take long, thanks to the fact that he memorized the first few steps of your routine; the brushing and cream application. What you did explain was the styling techniques. He could have just left it as is and not done anything, or he could do what you do and finger-coil each strand.

He had seen how you slaved over your hair for over an hour each time you finger-coiled it and was dreading his experience to be similar to that. But thanks to how short his hair was compared to yours, it was a cakewalk. However, when he tried to coil one strand himself, his fingers did manage to get tangled in each other a few times... but you have to experience something to really learn from it! And the texture of the gel you used seemed to drive him crazy, but he got used to it eventually.

Then it was onto drying! You had brought out the diffuser attachment- or.. what Changbin called the "claws of death," for your hair dryer. He had seen you use it countless times before, but it looked like a jumbled mess of things from the outside and he never knew if there was a technique to it or if it was just random movements.

After teaching him the tips and tricks you used for extra volume and just how to diffuse his hair in general on a small section of his hair, you watched proudly as he dried the rest of his hair on his own with little to no problems. You did a dramatic reveal, wiggling your fingers and adding a "Tada~" when he looked into the mirror for the final time.

He stared for a while, eyes tracing the unfamiliar, defined curls on his head. They were pretty, and you have literally never seen his hair like that before. But what really made it worth it was his reaction. A big smile grew on his face and he turned to you, crawling up the couch to give you a big kiss. "Thank you, Bunny."

"Of course, baby. You look good like this." You smiled and admired your handiwork for a while until you remembered that today was supposed to be your wash day in the first place.

"Okay!! Time for me to wash my hair now." You peck him on the lips and playfully shove him onto the couch, running away after. The pitter-patter of his steps chases after you and he wraps his hands around you once the water is turned back on.

"Wait. I want to do it!" He smiles widely despite the unsure face you make. But he's your Binnie, so it's kind of hard not to cave in. You agree and resume the same position he had earlier, sitting on the tile with your neck resting on the edge and your head hovering over the big bowl of the tub. He steals another kiss before gathering your hair products and directing the water to your head.

"Don't worry, Bunny. I'm a professional at this~"

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha

@bubblerizz

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

oooo drabe request okay

reader is at a family gathering and accidentally slips into a submissive headspace during dinner and calls wanda mommy. the rest is up to you

In Safe Hands

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: At a family gathering you have a slip of the tongue and that doesn't go over well with your mom.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Age gap relationship (W=34 R=23), Dom/sub dynamics(vague), subspace, R calls Wanda Mommy, R's mom has some emotionally abusive mannerisms/narcissistic, hurt/comfort, Wanda makes sure you're okay.

Authors notes: I don't think I ever would have thought of this prompt on my own, but I loved writing for this scenario.

You feel the warmth of your family's chatter enveloping you as you sit at the dinner table, the clinking of cutlery against plates creating a comforting rhythm. It's a typical family gathering, full of laughter and familiar faces. Your girlfriend Wanda, who your family knows well and has grown to love, sits beside you, her presence a grounding comfort.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself sinking into a cozy, relaxed state, lulled by the background noise and the comforting presence of Wanda. The world around you begins to blur slightly, your mind slipping into a subspace without you realizing it. Wanda's gentle touch on your hand anchors you further, a soft smile on her lips as she engages with your family.

In this serene haze, you lean closer to Wanda, her warmth and scent filling your senses. You feel safe, protected, and deeply loved. Without thinking, you murmur softly, "Mommy, can you pass the salt?"

Your face flushes as you realize what just slipped out of your mouth. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and the murmur of conversations come to a sudden halt. You look around the table, seeing wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Your mother’s gaze locks onto you, sharp and unforgiving.

"What was that?" she demands, her tone harsh and filled with a mix of confusion and anger.

You stammer, desperately searching for the right words. "I… it was a mistake. I didn't mean to…"

Wanda, sitting next to you, gently places her hand on yours under the table, a subtle gesture of support. You feel a mix of gratitude and mortification.

Your mother’s eyes narrow. "A mistake? That didn't sound like a mistake."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Mom, I’m sorry. It just slipped out. It’s... it's a private thing between Wanda and me."

The tension in the room is thick. Your family members look between you, Wanda, and your mother, uncertain of what to do or say. Your mother takes a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure.

"We'll talk about this later," she says, her voice cold but more controlled. She turns back to her plate, signaling the end of the conversation for now, but you know this isn't over.

You squeeze Wanda's hand, silently thanking her for being there. The rest of the dinner feels like it drags on forever, each minute filled with the weight of what just happened.

As dinner finally concludes, you feel a mix of dread and inevitability wash over you. Your mother, still fuming, stands up and motions for you to follow her. The walk to your childhood bedroom is painfully familiar, yet today it feels more like a walk to the gallows. Each step echoes with the weight of what's to come.

Once inside the room, she closes the door firmly behind you. The familiar surroundings of your childhood—posters, trophies, and old books—do nothing to comfort you. If anything, they heighten your anxiety, reminding you of a time when things were simpler and less complicated.

Your mother turns to face you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What on earth were you thinking, calling Wanda that at the dinner table?" she snaps. "Do you have any idea how inappropriate that was? In front of the entire family?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "Mom, it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just slipped out."

She shakes her head, disbelief etched across her features. "An accident? That was more than just a slip of the tongue. It was embarrassing for you, for me, and for everyone else there. How do you think your father felt hearing that? Or your grandparents?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the sting of her words hitting hard. "I’m sorry, Mom. I really am. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just... something private between Wanda and me."

"Private?" she scoffs. "There’s a time and a place for everything, and that was definitely not it. You need to understand the impact of your actions. What if people start talking? What if this gets out beyond the family?"

You wince at the thought. "I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful."

Your mother takes a deep breath, her anger slowly giving way to a look of disappointment. "I just expected better from you. I thought I raised you to know better than to do something like this. What happened to you?"

Her words cut deep, and you can feel tears welling up. "Mom, I’m still the same person. I just made a mistake. Please understand."

She sighs, rubbing her temples. "We’ll talk more about this another time. I need to cool down. Just... think about what you've done and how you’re going to fix it."

As she leaves the room, you collapse onto your old bed, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on your shoulders. Wanda's presence downstairs is a small comfort, but right now, you feel utterly alone in this moment of reckoning.

Laying on your old bed, feeling the echoes of childhood and the sting of your mother's words, you hear a soft knock on the door. Wanda enters, a reassuring presence amid the storm. She carries both your coats, signaling her readiness to leave if you need to, but instead of urging you out the door, she sits beside you and begins to gently rub your back.

"You don't owe them anything, Detka," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm. "Look at me, sweet girl."

You turn to her, as you always do, feeling the comfort of her gaze. You’ve always been so good for Wanda, and her steady presence is a lifeline right now. She takes your hand in hers, her touch grounding you.

"It was an accident," she continues, her tone firm yet loving. "You got a bit overwhelmed and slipped, and it's okay. While you talked with your mom, I smoothed things over with everyone else. I told them about a time when I asked you not to do something and you replied with, 'okay, mom,' and since then, there have been moments where we joke and you say something like that to me."

Tears prick at your eyes, welling up at the corners as you look at Wanda, overwhelmed by her kindness and her instinct to protect you. Her unwavering support wraps around you like a comforting blanket, making the harshness of your mother’s words fade into the background.

"You did that for me?" you whisper, voice thick with emotion.

Wanda nods, her eyes soft and understanding. "Of course I did. I always will. We’ll get through this together, alright?"

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. Leaning into her, you let the tears fall, knowing she’s there to catch you. She holds you close, her hand continuing its soothing motion on your back.

"Let’s get out of here for a bit," Wanda suggests gently. "We can take a walk, get some fresh air. You need a break from all this."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight lift slightly. "Okay," you agree, your voice small but steadier now.

With Wanda by your side, you know you’ll face whatever comes next, together. As you stand and slip on your coat, you give her hand a grateful squeeze. She smiles, and for the first time since the dinner incident, you feel a glimmer of hope.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part IV

Happy Halloween everyone!! I'm so happy I get to share this all with you today, I was really hoping to get out an update for Halloween 😂😂 I hope you all enjoy, I love reading everyone's comments, thank you so much!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: None, a fluffy evening with III

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, you're amazing and I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Part III - Part V

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stuck close to II's side as you made your way up to the front of the store. Who you assumed was IV peeked out behind III's shoulder, the taller man ushering him to the front. "He's very excited to meet you, he's just a bit nervous." II chuckles. "He has a tendency to get a bit worked up but I promise he's very nice." You step closer to him, a shy smile on your face. He bends down slightly, bringing his face a lot closer to yours as you lock eyes. His gaze was a lot softer than the others but still gave you that same warm feeling in your chest as he studied you.

"It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, a cheerful tone in his voice. "You guys were right, she is really pretty." What followed IV's statement was a mix of throats being cleared, eyes being averted, and Vessel quickly trying to change the subject.

"I see the two of you got a lot done already, what else do you need help with?" You giggle at their flustered states.

"It's nice to meet you too, IV. Everything just needs to be put away, III's been a very big help." He straightens up proudly at your compliment. You sat on the counter, the four of them rotating to keep you company while the others worked.

"I told you, you just take it easy tonight. We'll handle it." Vessel chuckles as you complain for what must have been the millionth time about how you should be helping.

"Well if you all insist on doing this at least let me cook you dinner." You counter.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." He smirks slightly before going to help the others. Noticing you were alone prompted IV to jog over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He asks sweetly. You move over, patting the spot next to you. He hops up with ease, even sitting down he still towered over you. "Your store's very organized." He comments, looking out to the other three as they worked, his heels bumping off the counter as he swung his feet slightly.

"Thank you, I try to run a neat ship." You giggle.

"I'm sorry if calling you pretty earlier made you uncomfortable." He shoots you an apologetic and almost bashful expression.

"It's okay." You smile, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'm happy you finally came by, now I've officially met the whole crew." You joke causing IV to laugh. The four of them finished up quickly, before you knew it you found yourself smiling at the whirlwind of energy that filled your apartment.

"You need any help?" III asks as he leans against the counter.

"You've done more than enough, just relax." The two of you exchange a soft smile. "Also, thank you for fixing me up earlier." You return your focus to what you were cooking, hoping III wouldn't notice your slightly flustered appearance.

"No problem. How's the hand?" He asks as he holds out his own, wanting to examine it himself.

"Barely even feel it." Your breath freezes in your lungs as his fingers ghost over your skin. You glance up at him through your lashes. His blue eyes focused intently on the bandage he was readjusting. His gaze slowly trails up your arm to your face, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest.

"You have something just," he points to the spot on his own face. You attempt to wipe it away a couple times before he chuckles. "Would it be alright if I got it?" You nod. III's warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb slowly dragged across your skin. "There… beautiful." You couldn't help but blush, your expression causing III to breathe out a laugh as his eyes crinkle in a smile. You jumped slightly as the timer on the stove went off. III reluctantly pulled his hand away, you trailed after his touch, already missing the warmth he provided. "I'll let them know the food's done." He says before disappearing into the other room. It was nice having company for once. Instead of you having dinner alone, your dining room was filled with excited conversations and loud laughter. As you cleaned up that night you almost didn't want them to leave.

"Thank you for having all of us for dinner, that was very sweet of you." Vessel says kindly.

"It's the least I could do after all the work you guys did today." You smile.

"We're happy to help. You've been nothing but kind since I met you. If there's anyone we'd want to help, it would be you." 

"This apartment hasn't been this lively in a long time," you muse with a hum. "It was a really nice change." 

"Well… I have a feeling that this," he vaguely motions to your apartment. "Is going to be happening a lot more often." He laughs as he starts to head out of the kitchen. 

"Vessel?" He pauses. "Did you ever figure out why you think we were fated to meet each other?"

He shakes his head with a small smirk, "no, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea." You trailed behind him as he re-enters your living room, the hushed whispers of the other three coming to a halt immediately. Vessel eyes them all with a knowing expression. "Alright, we should probably get out of your way. (Y/N), I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head slightly as he heads for the door. II and IV both say their goodbyes and follow him outside, leaving you alone with III.

"I'll be right down." He calls after them. III towered over you in the doorway, looking down at you with intoxicatingly beautiful blue eyes. He leans down to bring him almost face level with you, his forearm resting against the wall as he leaned in close. "Can I take you somewhere tomorrow night? Just you and me?" Despite how confident he was coming off you could hear the slight nervous tremor in his voice.

"What did you have in mind?" Excitement radiates off of him at your response.

"There's a drive-in I saw the other night, it looks like they have some sort of monster movie marathon tomorrow night… I think we'd have fun." You hear II call for him from outside.

“I’d love to go.” His hand slips into yours, tugging you the slightest bit closer. His thumb ran over your knuckles as his gaze trapped you in place.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiles before suddenly pulling away. “Quit your yelling, I’m coming!” He calls down the stairs to an annoyed II. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face as you watched them drive away. You grew nervous as the end of your shift ticked closer. Vessel and III slipped into the store right before closing as usual, III giving you a casual wink but not saying a single word. As they both stood at the counter his eyes kept meeting yours, a flustered smile finding its way to your face. The bell rings as Vessel exits the store, III quickly leaning in to whisper something to you. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He says with a smile before hurrying out after Vessel. You wrapped your jacket tightly around you as you stood outside in the brisk night air. His truck rumbled up in front of you, he immediately jumped out to greet you.

“Hey III.” He sweeps you into a tight hug.

“You ready?” He asks excitedly. You nod in response, he takes your hand as he opens the passenger door of the truck for you, helping you inside. The worn leather seat shook in time with the truck's engine, the cab lit up in a soft yellow glow from the radio. III slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flashing to you as a soft smile lit up his features. He noticed you rubbing your arms, still looking perfectly content despite the weather.

“I brought a blanket in case you get cold, the heat in the truck doesn’t work that well, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckles, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the statement. He fiddled with the temperature in the truck for a moment, nothing really changing before he gave up. He groans in annoyance, pausing to think of a solution. He looks over at you, eyes trailing over your much smaller form. He holds one side of his jacket open, beckoning you closer with his free hand. You slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warmth. "There, how's that?"

"This is fine." You stutter out, trying your best to hide your flustered state. You found yourself relaxing into him, his thumb rubbing your shoulder languidly, both of your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you wound through the collage of vibrantly colored leaves. "Thank you for asking me to come with you." You suddenly pipe up. 

"Thank you for coming with me." He responds softly. "I was honestly a bit worried to ask you."

"What? Why?" You ask in a tone of disbelief, a small laugh lacing its way into your words as you slowly start to relax.

"Some random man in a mask comes up and asks you to spend time alone with him-"

"Well you're not some random man in a mask, III." You cut him off, both of you sharing a laugh. You lean your head on his shoulder, "besides, I enjoy your company… it's just nice to have someone that I want to spend time with, I guess." You glance up at him with a coy smile.

"Well if it's any consolation, I think you're pretty great and I want to spend time with you too." You giggle as you feel him nudge your side. You pulled into the drive-in, the teenager in charge of admission was too interested in their cellphone to pay much mind to the man in the mask before them.

"You're all set, man." They wave the two of you through as they take the cash, not bothering to look up from the screen. You pulled in to find the lot nearly empty, a few cars sporadically parked as far away from each other as possible.

"Lucky us, we get a private showing." You say in a giddy tone.

"I'm sorry I can't go get you popcorn, Vessel already didn't want me coming to somewhere so public as it is." You were about to assure him that it was fine, if anything you could always run over to the concession stand to get the snacks, but III never gave you the chance. "Excuse me, doll." He leans over your lap to retrieve something from the floor, his face hovering centimeters from yours, you pressed yourself back into the seat. You weren't uncomfortable being this close to him, but the warmth from his body, the smell of his cologne, you were having trouble thinking. He grabs a backpack from the floor of the truck, setting it in his lap before pulling out various snacks you had witnessed him purchase earlier in the day from your store. You can't help but smile as he lines up each kind on the dashboard. "I wasn't sure what kind of candy you liked so I grabbed a few different ones."

"You're so sweet, thank you." Your eyes meet his, making you feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs.

"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time." He explains softly. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand in his. 

"How could I not? I'm here with you." The night was perfectly still around you. The faint crackling of the truck's old radio and the slight chill from its sputtering heater were lost to you at the moment. The only thing that mattered in your mind was III; how warm his hand felt wrapped around yours, how your heart fluttered in your chest as his attention dropped to your lips. His head dipped slightly, his warm breath pushing through the mask to fan over your skin, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the black fabric. You squeezed his hand, letting him know that, whatever was about to happen here, you welcomed it. He hooked a finger into his mask, beginning to pull it away from his face when the speakers suddenly blared to life, startling you apart. Your hand pulled away from his, folding then neatly in your lap as both of you stared straight ahead at the screen. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird-"

"You didn't." Both of you fell silent at your reassurance.

"Can I still hold you? It's nice having you close." He admits bashfully. You nod, leaning into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm sliding back around your shoulders. The two of you sat completely engrossed through every movie; holding his hand in yours as the intense music swelled, giggling at the cheesy yet adorable special effects of 1930's cinema, the evening culminating with you struggling to stay awake as you cuddled into III's chest on the ride home. You sat up and stretched with a groan as you pulled around the back of the store. III's gaze darted anywhere besides you as he fidgeted with his seatbelt. "I had a really nice night with you." He smiles.

"I did too." Your hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe, next time, I can plan something." His eyes finally meet yours.

"Next time?" You could hear the excitement laced in his tone. "Yeah, that sounds great." The two of you sat there for a little while longer, neither of you knowing what to say, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

"I should probably head in." You say reluctantly. "Goodnight, III."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He responds. As you go to get out he gives your hand one final squeeze, bringing your attention back to him. "Wait, can you… this is going to sound really strange, but can you close your eyes?" You nod, keeping your hand in his as you allow your eyes to slide shut. You heard the soft shuffling of fabric before a warm pair of lips pressed themselves to your cheek. The kiss was very brief, you barely had time to process what had happened before it was over. But, it still managed to leave you feeling so warm. A flustered giggle fell from your lips as you finally registered the kiss, squeezing III's hand. "You can open them." You turn to find him smiling under his mask, memorizing the adorable expression on your face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You let your eyes wander over his face one last time before getting out of the truck. You jogged up the stairs, fighting with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock the door. You wave down to him as he pulls away. You lean against the door with a sigh as it shuts behind you, absolutely giddy over the fact you could still feel III's lips lingering in your skin. Thinking of the night with him your mind wandered back to the time you had spent with II, the soft glances and hushed conversations that caused your heart to thrum with anticipation. How you currently found a spark between you and both of these men. Groaning, you card your hands through your hair as you shuffle deeper into your apartment. There was nothing you could do but wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @themultiverseofmars @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (I think that's everyone, if I missed you, you'd like to be added, or you're one of the few who's @'s didn't work {I can't figure out why that happened} please let me know!)

[beannoss]

with you, all in tangles (1)

3 times Yor blows kisses to Twilight and one time Twilight blows a kiss to Yor

For the @twiyorbase fluff fest! No content warnings, T-rating; manga spoilers. One chapter per day matching the daily prompts. Today's prompt: Blush. Title borrowed from Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepsen 💕 Part 2 (2) ->

It was their third mission together. Something easy, the Shopkeeper had said. For you. We'll see how your Twilight performs.

And Yor was… Yor was seeing.

Their first two missions has been in his world. Tonight's was in hers. Loid-Twilight was backup for her, for Thorn Princess.

He was performing very, very well.

She had always known he was kind and competent and handsome, of course. She'd known that she sort of, kind of, maybe a little bit had something of a crush on him. It's just that it hadn't mattered and hadn't meant anything because everything they were doing was false and anyway, there was nothing about Yor which might draw the attention of Dr Loid Forger in that way. And even if somehow there was, Yor didn't... she didn't like that she had so many lies between him and herself. She struggled enough with that as they were; it made her dizzy, imagining what those lies might do if, if they became — if they became more than —

Then that horrible night happened. Yor learned about Twilight. Twilight learned about Yor. And they both learned about Anya —

Days and days passed with lots of conversation and lots of discussing and lots of disagreeing quietly while pretending in front of Anya that everything was all right (unsuccessfully, because telepath) and being very honest in front of Anya that she had nothing to worry about (successfully, because it was true and also because telepath).

Then WISE contacted Garden and Garden agreed to meet with them, and the conversations became negotiations which included Loid's Handler and her Shopkeeper, and now they were here and doing missions together.

And Yor was being forcibly reminded that she'd never really stopped fancying Loid. Twilight. It had only become more confusing. And it was getting more confusing by the second, because he was incredibly talented. Of course she'd already known that but she hadn't know he was talented like this. And she'd never really thought about men's bodies before except for how to incapacitate or kill them or how to defend against their attacks, but she was thinking about Loid's body now, and how he moved and how he worked and how his hands were very clever and his shoulders a very nice shape and he had excellent foot work and precise muscle control and his waist —

"Thorn Princess?"

Yor bit her lip as her cheeks heated, something fluttery in her chest, in her stomach, and flicked her eyes back to his face. "Mhm?"

Twilight’s expression was mild but she knew that particular light in his eyes: he was frustrated. "I'm not sure how we'll get through,” he said. “WISE's intel must have been outdated; there are more of them than we expected."

"Oh." Yor looked around. They were on some sort of ledge, surrounded by bodies, most she had evidently taken down. She reviewed the assignment. If she wasn't mistaken, the primary client was actually immediately below them, and there ought to be a promenade under the ledge she could use to access his suite. She was confident she could deal with whatever security were physically in with the client, so… "Can you distract these people?"

"Of course," Twilight said. And he often looked unfazed and assured, but how had Yor never noticed how appealing that was before? Something stirred, fluttered, again in her belly. He went on, "But we still need to get two storeys down."

"Is it two floors? I thought his suite was directly below us."

Twilight inclined his head. "The suite has a high ceiling."

"Oh, that's no trouble. If you don't mind distracting these people, I'll finish the assignment."

After a beat where Twilight held her gaze, he asked, "You don't need backup down there?"

"No, but thank you!" Yor said cheerfully. She rolled to the edge of the ledge, and, protected behind a very ugly statue, she stood. There was no railing around the ledge which seemed like a safety risk — what if children ever came up here?! — but was useful for her needs. She stepped back, until her heels were right at the edge. "Don't worry about that!"

"I — if you're sure." He didn't sound doubtful, though Yor couldn't blame him for some hesitation. This wasn't the plan after all and she had long since learned that Loid liked plans! He didn't tend to mind them changing but she suspected he preferred it when he was the one changing them. Still, he was reloading his guns, and then pulling something from his backpack. He looked up at her from his crouch. "Thorn Princess. Yor. Are you sure you don't want backup?"

Butterflies took flight, fluttering sweetly in her in her belly, filling her chest. The way he asked it… As though... as though he cared. About her, about her answer, about what she needed to do her job. She beamed at him, and Twilight looked stunned for just a breath, pink appearing high on his cheeks, and —

And Yor blamed what happened next on the butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me!" she called. Then she winked, blew him a kiss, and stepped backward off the ledge.

For the whole second it took to drop, her cheeks burning hot enough to heat all of Ostania, her mind was filled with a shriek, What was that?!

Then she landed, and gun shots sounded overhead, and Yor stood. She twirled her stilettos as the guards inside caught sight of her. The work began.

Part 2 (2) ->

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (2)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 3.3k

— 🍄 summary: you and yoongi tackle your first day of fieldwork, and this town and it's mysteries prove to be stranger than they first appeared.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader and botanist!yoongi being nerds, mentions of death/missing persons, scientific inaccuracies lol

— 🕸️ a/n: and the mystery continues!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork

september 22, 2004

You've been having strange dreams. Normally, you don't remember most of your dreams, but these have been oddly vivid and long-lasting, like the lingering stench of a cigarette that sticks to your clothes.

In some, you're wandering through a forest, wading through a thick mist. No, not wandering, because it feels like you're searching for something, you just don't know what.

In others, you're submerged in murky green water. Tendrils of seagrass like twisting trees brush against your ankles. And there's a sound reverberating through the water, something like chittering and groaning at the same time.

When you wake up, the window above your bed is open, though you don't remember unlatching it last night. Just outside the glass is a canopy of green, bright and vigorous from the early dew.

You pull the window shut and dismiss the dreams completely from your mind, because you have things to do. Today is your first day of fieldwork with Yoongi, the botanist.

Yoongi is punctual, which you very much like. He arrives at the meeting spot three minutes early. Luckily, you were there ten minutes early.

"G'morning," he mumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly droopy. He's wearing dark jeans and a flannel, but appears comfortable in the frigid air.

"Morning, thanks for coming," you say, handing him the iced americano and glazed bun you just picked up from the coffee shop.

Cat's Den, it's called. The same barista from your previous visit was working, and he seemed just as cheerful.

"Thank you," Yoongi says with new life in his voice, gratefully sipping from his drink.

You inform him that your first stop will be the residence of Mrs. Bradley. You want him to see the strange fungus in person to get the most accurate identification.

The two of you pile into your Honda CRX. It's a beater car, with scratches on the exterior and ripped seats. You've had it ever since you were a teenager, but the engine has held up throughout the years.

When you ask Yoongi if he's heard of the death of Michael Bradley, he just scrunches his brows.

"I think it was in the paper once," he says. "Something about household cleaners and chemicals. The mayor kept it buttoned up, apparently."

Again, the mention of the mayor. She kept the case under wraps, but clearly she trusts Yoongi to know about it since she recommended him to you.

"Hmm, well Mrs. Bradley won't submit to questioning so far," you say, rattling with the car as it traverses over a ridge in the dirt road.

"So far?" Yoongi prompts, and you can hear the slight amusement in his tone.

The corner of your mouth tugs up in a barely concealed smirk. "I can be very persistent," you add.

You stop the car a block away from their house. Yoongi follows you dutifully when you exit wordlessly and make you way onto their lawn. The ring of mushrooms is still there. In fact, it appears to have gotten wider.

You drop to one knee and begin taking pictures.

"Won't Mrs. Bradley get upset?" Yoongi asks, looking into the dark windows of the house.

"She leaves for work at five a.m." you reply. "We'll be finished long before she gets back."

He doesn't reply, because the mushrooms have snagged almost every ounce of his attention.

"Very peculiar," he mutters to himself.

"Can you identify them?" you ask, trying not to divulge how much you're waiting on his reply.

Yoongi pulls a retractable magnifying glass from his pocket and flips it open, dropping to the damp earth beside you.

"Infundibuliform cap shape," he says, more to himself than to you. But from what you've gathered from the book, it means a "deeply depressed" cap shape. In this case, it makes the cap look like a set of tendrils. Reaching out.

Yoongi takes out a pair of tweezers and turns the mushroom this way and that, examining it.

Something catches your eye.

"Pores and gills?" you say. Typically mushrooms have one or the other, but this one has a membrane covered in small holes as well as an underside full of thin openings.

"False gills, ridges," Yoongi supplements, deep in concentration. "Gills can be detached, but ridges are built into the structure."

"Is that common among mushrooms?" you ask.

"Hmm, not entirely sure. Not a mycologist," he replies, snipping off one of the mushrooms and dropping it into a specimen bag.

A part of you lights up inside. It looks like he's going to help you with this whole thing, judging by his interest in the strange fungi.

You're greatly appreciative, because reading that book on mushrooms was not exactly the most effortless research endeavor. It was plenty interesting, but still chock full of scientific terminology that you aren't familiar with.

"I have a friend back at the university who can take a closer look at this," Yoongi says, rising to a stand.

A flutter in your stomach. This is coming along nicely. The more professional opinions you can get, the better.

"Take a look at this," you say, leading him to the rotted tree trunk.

You watch as his delicate features twist, perplexed. He really is very pretty, but you shouldn't be thinking such things.

"Is this common among trees?" you ask a little hesitantly. It's such a shame to break his concentration when he looks like that.

"Not that I know of," he mutters, taking a tentative step closer.

You did a bit of research on tree rot, but nothing you saw looked quite like this. Wood, even rotted wood, has a splintered appearance. This wood looks almost wet, maybe even flesh-like. It looks, and smells, like an infected wound.

You take plenty of pictures.

"Can I get a copy of those?" Yoongi asks, looking at you with wide, eager eyes. A cat that's caught sight of a treat.

"Yes, of course," you reply with only the slightest bit of difficulty.

"Thank you." He flashes you a gummy smile. Fuck.

"Okay," you blurt out suddenly, pretending to check your watch. "Let's get moving."

Your next location is the sight of Jarvis Laplan's death.

The forest, you've learned thanks to Yoongi's kind direction, has been unofficially divided into sections by the surrounding civilians. There's the "North Star" area, mostly made up of sparse trees and grasses. This is where most of the residential homes are backdropped against, including Bradley's.

Then "Gunman's," an area southwest of North Star. Aptly named, this is the designated hunting grounds, clearly labeled and fenced. A few residences outline Gunman's, including Laplan's. But Laplan wasn't found in Gunman's, he was found in Ulthar's Grove.

"Ulthar's Grove," south of Gunman's and absolutely NOT a hunting area. Apparently, local stray cats and other rodents flock to this area, roaming about freely and building nests in hollow tree stumps. Children and teenagers can sometimes be found playing in this area, because of the several residences tucked into its borders and the relative safety compared to other areas of the forest.

Then, at the center of it all, Lurking Lake. Aptly named, it is not well-inhabited and generally avoided by locals. A naturally formed lake, it is infested with algae, an invasive species of eel-like fish, and characterized by a distinctive musky smell.

You and Yoongi enter into Ulthar's Grove, weaving through gnarled trees and mossy stones.

As if he can't help it, Yoongi points out the names of the local flora as you pass them. The scientific names and the common names, seemingly for your benefit. It's quite amusing, watching his face light up when he recognizes a familiar species.

And you learn a lot, taking as many notes as you can on the local wildlife while navigating the path.

You don't notice, but Yoongi is sneaking glances at you while you scribble feverishly.

"Are my ramblings really that interesting?" he prods playfully.

Your attention is jerked from the page. You glance at him over your shoulder, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

"I try to remember everything I learn," you say, and your voice betrays none of the slight embarrassment you feel at being observed in your "natural habitat." Because you've always been very intent, maybe even obsessed, with collecting knowledge. You suppose that's one of the things that makes you good at your job.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Yoongi says, "So, you're a journalist?"

You never told him exactly what your occupation was, only that the mayor sent you. You hesitate for a moment. For some reason, you have no desire to lie to him.

"Private investigator," you reply.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn't ask who you were hired by, but the subtext is clear enough. The mayor recommended him to you for a reason, after all.

The two of you arrive at the site. No longer is it wrapped in police tape, but the same eerie air of caution still lingers.

Aged thirty-five, he was found in the woods. More specifically, in a little clearing among the closely-knit trees, in the center of a ring of dead grass.

Apparently, Laplan was dissatisfied with the control of local wildlife, and took it upon himself to do a bit of "population control." He was found in hunting gear with a .35 Remington, without a single shot fired.

Yoongi says that very little information was in the papers, similar to Bradley. Just a warning to civilians regarding a recent animal attack.

"He wasn't attacked, he was mauled," you can't help but say as you examine the site. The mayor gave you snippets of the police reports, but you still have yet to get your hands on the coroner's report.

"By what?" Yoongi asks, a strange hesitation in his voice.

You look at him.

"Not sure" you reply, turning your attention to the surroundings at hand.

Laplan was found here, among this break in the trees. The ring of dead grass remains, and half of you expects to see a pool of blood in the center of it. But there is nothing but brittle vegetation.

"What kind of animal?" Yoongi asks as he circles around the perimeter.

"A mountain lion, presumably." But for some reason, a reason that you can't name, you doubt it.

A wave of uneasiness ripples through you.

"Let's fan out a bit, try to see if any of the trees around here have the same rot," you call out, eager for a distraction.

The two of you explore the area for a while, noting irregularities in the plant life. Evidently, thanks to Yoongi's commentary, you discover that the surrounding plants appear to be dehydrated, despite the abundant rain. Neither of you find any of the strange mushrooms in this part of the woods.

Yoongi checks his watch at noon on the dot.

"We should get moving. You said there's one more site you wanted to visit, right?"

He's right, the site of Sharon Mason, the final and most recently deceased. You remember now that Yoongi said he had to leave at two p.m., though he didn't mention why.

Lurking Lake, and the surrounding woods which apparently don't have a name, according to Yoongi. They are simply known as "the woods surrounding Lurking Lake."

And you must say, the name lives up to its potential. First of all, it's bigger than you thought it would be. It has a presence, the beating heart of the forest.

Under the gray sky, the water is dark green with a peculiar, abysmal deepness. The perimeter of the lake is outlined by wild grass and moss-robed stones, and the outer edges of the water have a film of algae.

Fog hangs over the landscape like a misty curtain, swirling along the ground.

"She was found by the lake, right?" Yoongi asks, examining some sort of cattail grass by the lakeshore.

"In the lake," you correct, bending over to look closer at the pebbled shore.

"Barely anything in the papers again," Yoongi says before you get the chance to ask. "Mainly because they don't know all that much."

"Hmm," you reply, staring at some sort of microscopic, squirming plankton in the shallow lake water.

Sharon Mason, aged seventeen. Found floating in the lake. Homicide ruled out, apparently.

The third death in under three months, and it certainly left a mark on the community, especially since she was only a teenager. You wonder if this was the catalyst that drove the mayor to hire a private investigator.

"Has the college noticed anything unusual about the lake? In the ecosystem, I mean," you ask.

"Not that I know of," Yoongi immediately responds. A little too quickly.

You straighten up and watch as he paces around the edge of the water, hands in his pockets.

"Nothing?" you ask again, a little more pointed this time. Because you hardly believe that nothing has surfaced at the university. Why else would the mayor include investigative services in "ecological disturbances" in her job description?

"No, ma'am," Yoongi replies, and the politeness in his voice is incriminating.

You'll have to look into it.

"Well, I won't know the finer details until I get the coroner's report," you say.

Yoongi looks up at you.

"The coroner?" he asks, curiosity and something else in his tone.

"Yes, I'll need to speak to him eventually. Do you happen to know where his office is? I've been having trouble getting him on the phone," you say.

You're watching closely for his reply, and you see his eyes flicker to something in the distance.

Following his gaze, you see it. The massive house on the hill, dark and towering over the valley. Through the mist, it looks like an abandoned Victorian mansion.

"The Addams House," Yoongi says from behind you.

"Addams? Is that who lives there?" you ask with your eyes still fixed on the house, like a beacon that you can't look away from.

"Used to, they're long gone now," Yoongi replies. "The new owner rents it out now,"

"And who would that be?" you press.

Yoongi just shrugs.

"The only people who know for sure are the tenants themselves. Apparently, he's a bit of a recluse."

Hmm, interesting.

"And...that's where the coroner's office is?" you ask, a little incredulous.

He nods a little hesitantly.

"Mm hmm, it's in the basement."

"Ah, of course it is," you can't help but reply, and it makes Yoongi smile a bit.

There's a pause as the two of you poke around.

"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Yoongi asks.

That makes you stop and think for a moment, because you're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for here. At Bradley's place, it was the mushrooms. Laplan's place of death, any indication of unusual wildlife or animal activity. Here at the lake, you don't even have a cause of death.

"I'm not entirely sure," you admit, again not finding it in you to lie to him. "I'll have a much better idea when I get the coroner's report."

Something you said seems to remind him, prompting him to check his watch.

"I have to go now," he says, quickly gathering his things.

"Alright, I'll give you a ride back," you offer. Not that you would ever admit it, but you're not quite ready to part from him yet.

"No, no, that's alright," he blurts out, already making his way towards the outline of trees. "It's a short walk," he insists.

"From here?" you question, but by the time you turn around, all you can see is his dark hair and slight frame darting expertly between the trees.

Your shoulders deflate as you let the rest of your sentence die with a puff of breath. A strange man, no doubt. But then again, that's how you like them.

Later that day, you venture to the coffee shop to do some more research, but the establishment is closed. The man mentioned something about only being closed on Wednesday afternoons.

The bookstore on the other side of the alley is closed too, none of the warm light from last time leaking from the front window.

You use your entire living room floor as your cork board and red thread, scattering open books and papers like a difficult-to-navigate parchment sea.

And you sail that sea until three a.m.

Five missing. The first is Alissa Ward, aged thirty-two, last seen at a grocery store at 5:32 p.m. She returned home at 5:47, according to her home security system, and then randomly left through the back door at 2:42 a.m. She lived alone, and it took a while for authorities to report her missing.

Then, Brynn Synder, aged twenty-nine, last seen at her boyfriend's place the night before her disappearance. Apparently, she had a habit of running through the woods in the early morning, and she was reported missing when she failed to show up at brunch with friends the next morning.

The police searched the woods. They found nothing.

You fall asleep on the couch as you're nearing the end of her file, dreaming of feet pounding on dirt.

september 23, 2004.

The coroner proves to be even more elusive than you thought. He appears to be averse to his faxing machine, and downright allergic to his telephone.

By midmorning, you're trudging up through the damp earth to the house on the hill. The closer you get, the more massive it appears. Ancient brickwork, towers and iron spires, neatly clipped hedges flush to the sides of house, and crowned by spindly trees overhead.

There's a tall iron gate encompassing the entire property, spiraling with twisting designs. You try it, but it appears to be sealed even though you don't see a lock of any kind.

You still rattle it a few times for good measure, causing the metal to creak and screech as if it were alive, and very displeased at the rough treatment.

A moment later, a figure emerges from the fog. A man, it looks like, wearing a large coat. As he approaches, you notice the floppy black hair hanging in front of his face.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you," you call out when he's close enough to hear you. Really, you're not sorry, since you've been trying to get a hold of the coroner for several days now, with not so much as a return message.

The man is young, with a strong jaw and handsome features. But his skin, it's somehow completely colorless. You can't quite explain it, but it looks like ice, translucent yet cloudy at the same time. And what's weirder is the way your eyes can't quite stay focused on it. It makes your head throb if you stare at the same place for too long.

"I need to speak to the coroner," you say, putting authority in your voice. If you want to get anywhere with this case, you'll need the causes of death.

"He...He isn't here right now," the man says, sounding a little nervous. Now that you're closer, you can see his bunny-like front teeth biting at his strangely colorless lips.

"When will he be back?" you reply.

The man's head is downturned, eyes flickering over the ground.

"I'm not sure. He's spread quite thin, you see," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied.

"W-Well there aren't many forensic pathologists in this area, so he has to service the next three towns. And he always takes Wednesdays off for personal reasons, so he hasn't been in yet and-"

"Alright, kid," you interrupt his rambling, since he only appears to be getting more nervous by the second.

"Just have him call me as soon as possible, okay?" You hand him a card with your information scratched onto it, and he reaches through the gate's bars to take it between his extremely cold fingers.

"Yes ma'am," he says obediently, scurrying back up the hill and disappearing behind a hedge wall.

Strange young man, you think. But, as you're starting to realize, that is the norm in this town.

"She saw through my glamour," Jungkook announces to the room. And everyone freezes, stealing little glances at each other.

"I told you, she's perceptive," Yoongi says from his place on the chaise lounge.

"Curious too, she came into the bookshop looking for something on strange fungi," Namjoon supplies.

"And spent the entire night in the cafe reading," Jin adds.

"She won't stop calling my office. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell her," Taehyung admits.

"She's just doing her job," Jimin counters.

"In any case," a stern voice interrupts, the only voice that hasn’t spoken so far.

“Keep an eye on her.”

a/n: thank you muchly for reading!! if you tell me your thoughts i might explode with joy

NEXT PART: 05/15/24 @8:00 a.m. PST

[mcflymemes]

DRAGON AGE: THE VEILGUARD PROMPTS PT 2 *  assorted dialogue from the second hour of the video game

that suit of armor is moving.

where'd you come from?

i've only been gone three days!

the situation's changed - for the worse, unfortunately.

i've had a couple of days, and i'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

it does sort of explain a few things though.

there's something kind of exciting about it. and dangerous. really dangerous.

hope that means you've got an idea.

a few dozen demons shouldn't be a problem.

do you know what this place was?

it's probably something important.

well, isn't this a sight?

the artifact we're looking for must be inside.

think we can make that jump?

i plan to find out.

we're getting closer.

it's a lot trickier than that.

i've never seen this before.

it's almost like it's... breathing.

wasn't expecting to fight an ogre today.

just one of those days.

what does that crystal do?

i have questions.

it's kind of my thing. fixing magical stuff.

let me know when you're ready to head to the camp.

some of our most experienced fighters are still missing.

whatever's going on out there, it's scary.

sounds like things have gotten a lot worse since we left.

it's only a matter of time until our luck runs out.

if we could predict where they'd strike next, we might get ahead of them.

i don't know what you're going to find there. likely nothing good.

you sure you're up for this?

i've never seen fog this thick.

something happened here.

stay sharp.

it's so quiet.

where is everybody?

everything's just abandoned.

keep them inside.

everyone has to stay.

we need to search for survivors.

ever seen anything like it?

we're going to help you! we'll get you down!

i know you.

they made me do it.

i was tricked! manipulated!

i never meant for that! i swear! you must believe me!

what if the dragon comes back?

let's get him out of there.

we don't kill people. not like this.

try harder next time.

don't let me regret saving you.

what a pleasure to see you again.

so who are you exactly?

this dark turn of events shall only become worse.

what can you tell us about... all this?

how do we stop them?

how do we stand up against that?

none of us can do this alone, but we can stop them together.

these are the times in which legends are born... or slain.

i should've taken the shot.

we all did what we thought was best in the moment.

look where it got us.

we're still standing. the fight's not over.

i like that about you. you don't stop fighting. you push for answers and action.

we need someone who can put the pieces of the puzzle together.

we're fighting the unknown.

everyone has a part to play.

i think i can manage that.

i can feel lingering magic. powerful magic.

i can hear it.

i don't know how to control it!

you said something "took you over?"

i'm sorry. i wish i had answers.

talking has helped.

i guess we don't have any real answers.

we're friends, so i'm going to be honest.

it feels wrong.

i trust you have all this handled.

at least people are free because of what i did.

it must have been worse than i had thought.

so... you're going to be insufferable about it.

see, this is the reason nobody likes you.

[httpsryu]

my teddy bear

pairing: shin yuna x fem itzy!reader

summary: yuna is always used to seeing her girlfriend in cute, oversized clothes ever since debut

genre: fluff

a/n: i wasn't sure if you wanted y/n to be a member of itzy but i hope this will do!

Yuna rolls around in her bed, grumbling at the fact that they have to practice today for the upcoming comeback. She lazily rubs her eyes before reaching for her phone on top of her dresser. Opening her phone which shows a lockscreen of her and her girlfriend, resulting in a small smile on her face before realizing the time.

"8:40?? I'm late!" She rushes out of bed, dreading at the fact that Yeji might kill her if she doesn't arrive at the practice room at 9.

OMG OMG OMG! Why didn't anyone tell her? (all 5 of them did, she totally didn't brush it off or anything.)

Running to the bathroom in a hurry, she grabs her toothbrush and smother it with toothpaste before frantically rushing back to her room while scattering through her closet for something to wear.

GREAT! The one day where she woke up late, her clothes are all still in the washer.

With a weird noise coming from her, she takes a hairtie and uses it to tie her pajama shirt into a crop top. "This'll have to do for now, I don't have time for this."

Running back into the bathroom, Yuna spits out the toothpaste and gargles her mouth quickly with water before entering her room to grab her phone and leave the dorm.

Thank goodness her beautiful girlfriend has a pair of extra sneakers in the lockers.

Everyone in the practice room waits for Yeji while you constantly check on your phone for a text from Yuna. It's already 9:05 already and the members persuaded Yeji to grab a coffee because the cat eyed leader was continuously yawning upon arriving at practice.

You let out another sigh while dropping your phone besides you on the ground.

"Still no text?" Ryujin asks, prompting you to shake your head with a pout.

Ryujin and you are currently stretching while Jisu and Chaeryeong lie on the couch while scrolling timelessly on their phones.

"Hmm, I see Yuna hasn't arrived yet." Yeji announces from the front of the room, standing at the foot of the door with coffee.

Everyone halts with what they were doing, Jisu and Chaeryeong sits up and stands up from the couch while Ryujin and you stand up as well. All members look at their leader and with concern for Yuna in their heads; most importantly, you.

"She texted me that she was on her way." You speak up, clasping your hands together.

Ryujin snaps her head towards you before looking back at Yeji. "Yeah. She'll be here soon."

"Gosh! She's always late." Yeji huffs in frustration, walking to set her coffee on the table in the back of the practice room.

You peer over to Ryujin, signaling her to comfort the cat eyed leader in hopes of an easy practice.

"What? Why me?"

"She's your girlfriend, genius."

The short-haired female throws her head back while groaning before rushing shortly to Yeji. "Babe, you're stressing yourself out as usual. Yuna will get here and it'll all be okay."

"If she doesn't get here in 5 minutes, we'll start without her."

Chaeryeong hums in agreement while Jisu mutters a "she's probably having one of those days."

"I just know we're going all out from the beginning." The fox-resemblance female softly mutters to both Jisu and you. "All because of Yuna."

The freshly dyed blonde-haired turns to you. "How come you have no clue on your girlfriend's whereabouts? Why aren't you coming with her to practice?"

If only it was that easy to get Shin Yuna out of bed.

"Every morning, I wake her up more than three times!" You defend yourself. "Today was ten times and each time, she told me to not worry about it."

Chaeryeong tsks in a disapproving matter. "Let's hope Ryujin is able to calm down our leader."

With only a small noise of agreement coming from your mouth, you whip out your phone for the last time to check if you've gotten anything from your girlfriend. Seeing an empty screen, you could only sigh before putting the device away.

"OK! I gave her 6 minutes and she's not here!" Yeji claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "We'll start from the top! Everyone get in positions."

With all the members obeying the eldest's words, you quickly take off your quarter zip up which reveals an Adidas sleeveless crop top.

The outfit combination for today consists of low waisted gray sweatshorts and the sleeveless top which perfectly enhances your toned abs that you've recently worked out tremendously for just for this comeback.

"Oh wow, Y/N!" Yeji winks at you through the reflection of the mirrors. "Look at your abs!"

Ryujin widens her eyes, rushing towards you. "You and I work out every time, how come I've never noticed this?"

"You're crazy, Y/N!" Jisu says with a glint in her eyes.

Chaeryeong comes up to you, pinching your abdomen. "You never wear revealing clothes."

"I ran out of my usual laundry!" You laugh at the sudden changed atmosphere in the room.

The leader also lets out a laugh. "If Yuna isn't here, we have Y/N's abs."

Shin Yuna usually is never THIS late. Frankly, she doesn't know how this happened?

Frantically panting as she rushes to push on all buttons on the elevators in the JYP building. While waiting for the doors to open, the black haired takes a second to catch her breath, placing her hands on her knees.

"Yeji is sooo going to have me working overkill." She mumbles to herself, feeling sweat dripping down her forehead at the idea of the cat-eyed leader but also from sprinting crazily from earlier.

The doors finally let out a ring, opening up shortly.

"What if I just don't go?" Yuna asks to herself, proceeding to walk in.

The door shuts slowly; has it always been this slow? Her hold on the strap on her bag tightens, waiting for the elevator to switch between floors now.

The second the doors starts opening again, Yuna could've sworn she heard her own breath hitch. The loud music coming from a specific practice room already becoming a loud knock to the female.

With heavy steps full of precision yet cowardice, the tall female arrives at her designated place in a matter of a few seconds.

Curse herself for being so damn tall.

Standing right in front of the closed door, Yuna shuts her eyes to inhale and exhale.

Here goes nothing. Besides, the expected overkill.

"Hi. I'msosorrythatIwaslate. Ihonestlydon'tknowhowithappened." Yuna speaks immediately upon opening the door widely.

Now, Yuna wouldn't exactly call herself whipped for you or anything but instead of looking at the eldest member, her eyes immediately goes straight to you.

WOW.

"You're late." Yeji tries to say with a stern voice but failing after seeing the way Yuna is looking at you.

The black haired female lets out a nod, still mesmerized from how amazing you look while dancing to Kill Shot.

It was a rule enforced by the members that if anyone is getting scolded, the others will continue dancing so that way practice won't be as late when it ends.

"We're about to have lunch soon, just stand at the back for now, Yuna-ah." The leader could only say gently before turning back.

Yuna forces to break her eyes away from her girlfriend, pout slightly evident on her mouth while taking her bag off from her shoulder and setting it down on the couch.

"Okay! That was good." Yeji claps, smiling like the innocent leader she is. "How about we take a lunch break?"

Everyone lets out a satisfied sound, Ryujin rushing over to Yeji's side while Jisu and Chaeryeong lets out a gag before leaving the room.

"Babe!" Your eyes lit up at Yuna, running to her.

Yuna opens her arms as usual to hold you. "Hey baby."

"What's wrong?" You ask, slightly letting go to see more of your girlfriend's face.

The taller can only let out a sigh, still pouting. "How come you've never wore clothes like these in front of me? I have to find out you have this beautiful body during practice? And on the day I was late!"

You could only giggle at Yuna's behavior, placing a chaste kiss on her chin. "I was low on laundry and only had these."

The older lets out a hum before resting her head down into the crook of your neck. "You look beautiful so I'll let you off the hook this time."

"You do?" Wrapping your arms back around Yuna.

Yuna hums again. "Even with those toned abs, you'll always be my teddy bear."

hehe; this was cute to write

[twinksrepository]

September prompt 30

Rating: PG

Pairing: Solomon X Reader

CW: flight delays

Word count: Roughly .5K

A/N: This one came to me while sitting in the airport almost crying over all my flight delays.

Images belong to Solmare.

“Tell me again, whose idea was this?” You groan leaning back against the well worn row of chairs in the airport, partly onto Solomon who is far more distracted by the book in front of his face. 

“I seem to remember a certain apprentice of mine suggesting we fly using an airplane instead of just using magic.” He doesn't look up from his book, but you can see the smug crinkle of his eyes above the pages. “What was it you said.” Pretending to think for a moment before he lets out a laugh. “I remember. ‘If we just use magic all the time we'll lose the appreciation of how easy it makes traveling.’ Or it was something like that.” Oh how much you could punch that sly grin on his face right now. 

“Next time I say something stupid like that remind me about today.” Grousing before you slump more onto the thin padded material. The two of you were supposed to be flying to London, Solomon claiming there was something happening there that would help with your training. 

Only the pair of you have been sitting in the airport terminal for eight hours now. Several flight delays and some rerouting yet you still haven't left your first point of departure. “You may not want to hear this, but wasn't that exactly the point you were trying to make?” 

“I mean.” Grumbling as you fold your arms across your chest and start to pout. “Yes. It was.” Now you're feeling sulky. Watching Solomon for a bit as he hums and his eyes roam across the page. Blinking you lean forward and frown at the title of the book. “From poison apples to xylophones, an insiders guide to the lore of the Tale of the Seven Lords. Seriously?” 

“Just some light reading.” The way he says it with the thick tomb has you frowning at him with your eyes narrowed to points. Unaware that Solomon was thinking how if Lucifer could see you right now he'd be proud of your replication of his signature scowl. “You don't believe me?” 

“Not for a second. You're the second biggest TSL Nerd I know, and I'm pretty sure you're more than just good friends with a certain writer.” Leaning into his space and looking down at the pages. “What are you actually reading?” 

“Jealous of Simeon and I? I'll have to let him know, perhaps next time we have tea we'll invite you as well.” Laughing that little sneaky laugh of his once more that just makes you more suspicious. 

“That.” Deadpanning as you keep looking at the pages that seem to be covered in scribble. “Is not any form of written word.” Flicking your eyes upwards at his face while he grins. “Here or in the other two realms.” Cutting him off from trying to tell you it's from the Devildom. 

“Incorrect my dear apprentice.” Lifting a hand to wag a finger at you. “It's not a current form of the written word.” Watching your eyebrows rise, internally giddy that was able to pique your interest. “Feel like a lesson?” 

“Yes.” Sitting up more before you move more into his space. “Anything to kill the next two hours.” 

You do make it to London via flying commercial air eventually. But you've learned you aren't making that mistake again. 

September 2024 Challenge Masterlist

[mywritingonlyfans]

Nurturing Love // Alex Turner X Reader! Fluff!

prompt: taking care of alex while he's with laryngitis, spending time together, there's one marriage proposal and cute talks and reader watching glasto with the other gfs.

words: 4,5K. (please give it a try, it's not smut but isn't bad ;')

 You were aware that Alex was tired. And you thought you were going to meet him because of that, but when Matthew jokingly said it was as if Alex got sick from not being close to you, you couldn't help but worry. You knew immediately that your early arrival was due to Alex's state and stubbornness. And then, when he called you on the phone, asking if you were already nearby, you noticed his faltering and high-pitched voice, which went unnoticed by you due to the excitement of returning to his arms again.

"I liked the jacket." He ran his hand over the dark green fabric of the Neca 09, pulling you towards him by the collar. You smiled softly and satisfied to see him, even though he had noticeable dark circles, and you knew you would call his attention for not taking better care of himself.

"Your clothes bring me a special comfort when you're not around, it works well." You kissed his neck, entwining your fingers in the nape of his hair as he hugged you tightly against his body, causing your toes to momentarily leave the ground. You felt like medicine to him, just the feeling of having your warm body close to his already made him feel more energized.

"I'm glad to hear that. I like it when I wear them again and they smell like you." He smiled sincerely, one of those smiles with joyful lines at the corners of his gentle eyes and timidly showing his teeth. You blushed as if it were one of the first times, and he tightened his grip around your waist in contentment. Expressing feelings verbally was more than just words; it was like you found a more meaningful way to say you missed each other.

When you went to kiss him, he caressed your head and kissed your nose. You laughed in denial, "You have a sore throat, don't you? Neither you nor Matthew are good at hiding things." His cheeks turned a rosy blush. He’d question you on that, but it wasn't as if he didn't understand that you could read him very well; he was the same way with you.

"In my defense, it started yesterday, it's not that bad yet." You looked at him suspiciously, and he simply took your bags to the hotel room along with his things.

"And it doesn't hurt?" You sounded skeptical. Alex didn't answer, but from the dry coughs he had already given, you didn't need any answers.

"You don't need to worry, pumpkin. I'm fine." You nodded, watching him lazily snuggle into the bed and cover his eyes due to the brightness. He was trying, that you couldn't deny. You held the hotel phone in your hand, dialing for room service, and soon Alex's attention was on you as you twirled the phone cord around your fingers, ordering lemon and honey tea, soup, and requesting a humidifier. You avoided looking at him, hating to feel like his boss, something that Alex wouldn't deny if you asked him about it. He was certain he would do whatever you wanted, no matter the circumstances.

"Have you eaten today?" You asked softly, and Alex shook his head, still smiling lightly because he liked having you there for him.

"Do the guys know you're not feeling well?" When he denied it once again, he could sense your discomfort matching his own. He didn't need to say that he felt bad about it; they would have another show soon, in fact, in a few hours, and in a few days it would be Glastonbury. It was inevitable, and knowing Alex, you knew his mind was a mess, and in a way, he felt guilty.

"I appreciate you being ‘ere." He made a grabbing motion with his hands, like a child longing for comfort. You joined him, but not before turning off the lights, hoping he could rest for a while. "We'll figure this out, Al. It's not your fault." He nodded, nestling against your chest as your fingers found their way back into his hair, and his arms embraced your waist. "I can still sing, everything’ll be alright," his voice trembled, and you held him closer to you. Not wanting to argue, you simply kissed his cheek, praying it wouldn't worsen as it was still in the early stages, and hoping he would feel better soon.

…

He managed to sleep a little, but unfortunately, it didn't improve his condition. In fact, it left him in more pain than before, and now his throat felt scratchy.

"Alexander, babe?" you whispered, helping him sit up. He murmured softly, "Yes, pumpkin," with difficulty, and watched your worried eyes as you tucked him in with the blankets.

"Promise me you won't strain your voice if you feel it'll cost you too much?" You sounded cautious, knowing it wasn't about you, even though you cared deeply. Besides, you couldn't fathom how detrimental it would be for them to cancel a show, but you still wanted Alex to prioritize his well-being.

"I'm fine, I swear," he smiled, rubbing his hand against his throat. It was clear he was far from fine; you would find it surprising if he even had a voice the next day.

"Promise me, Alex?" You looked at him more seriously, holding the warm cup of tea in your hands, and he nodded. Taking his first sip, feeling the warmth soothing his scratchy throat, he let out a satisfied sigh.

You smiled, settling next to him under the covers. It was strange for Alex to think that he wouldn't have thought of asking for tea, yet it was your first instinct, and it was helping.

"I promise."

"Good," you murmured. It was as if his emotional state reflected onto you, and it was true. You wouldn't be able to feel at your best if he wasn't feeling at his.

Once he finished the tea, he picked up the bowl of soup. He wasn't hungry, but seeing your eyes lacking their usual spark, even if just a little bit, saddened him. So he tried.

"We can share; you probably aren't very hungry." He chuckled, wrinkling his nose as he looked at the spoon.

"Al, I don't think your case is contagious, and even if it were, it wouldn't make a difference. Besides, if you make me stay here for an entire week without kissing you, I'll kill you."

He laughed, looking at you with adoration. He tilted his head slightly, and you followed him. It was slow and gentle, with your noses touching and both of you smiling between kisses like fools. You had missed it so much.

"It must be terrible not being able to kiss me, I agree," you rolled your eyes, his ears were cold but still blushing, while the apple of his cheeks burned with a smile.

He took a spoonful into his mouth, feeling comforted, though he couldn't tell if it was because of you or the soup.

"You know, I had a dream about you. I think I was longing for you so much that I couldn't get you out of my mind, even while sleeping," he said simply, as if it were a routine thing.

"And what was it about?" you asked curiously as he passed you the spoon, and the sweet taste of pumpkin warmed you from the inside.

"I don't remember much, just that it was peaceful, like a big bright house, and you were sleeping on my chest while I whispered something. We were definitely older, but what I remember vividly is the feeling of being safe and happy," his face was still flushed, and it wasn't just from the slight fever he had acquired.

You stayed quiet for a moment, unable to contain a silly smile. "Does that happen often?" His adorable blush was evident in his voice. He was aware that he had just mentioned a future where you were in it, didn't he?

"I’d say so, pumpkin. I think ‘bout it quite a lot,” he replied. And then you both allowed yourselves to be enveloped by silence until the soup was finished, and he made a joke about it being as tasty and sweet as you. It sounded just like Alex, cheeky yet undeniably adorable.

…

The boys had understood, of course, and now it wasn't just you worried about Alex's health. That brought you some relief. They were ready for soundcheck, and although you were restless and watching from a distance, you couldn't stop thinking about how tumultuous his mind must be. "He'll be fine," James reassured, gently patting your back.

The first few notes came out hoarse from his mouth, and as sexy as it might have seemed, it was impossible not to notice that he wasn't well. Every now and then, he would scratch his throat, and Matthew finished the song. "Doesn't pushing himself make it worse?" James looked at you sadly. "Yes, but he doesn't want to hear us. He thinks canceling at the last minute will be bad. He needs rest. You should talk to him; he would listen to you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Me?" James laughed and nodded. "He knows he needs to rest; he's just stubborn. We know he listens to you. He might be fine now, but if he loses his voice, it'll be much worse." And you knew he was right, even though you hated having to be the voice of reason with Alex. You crossed your arms. "You shouldn't have made him sing so many consecutive days. What did you expect?"

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and James seemed pleased with that. "That's the girl we need right now, and don't worry, we won't repeat this mistake." Nonetheless, the show went on, and it was good. If it weren't for the news the next day about the cancellation due to his laryngitis, no one would have even known. However, having watched the show was painful for you, and it brought tears to your eyes. "Mardy Bum" had to be finished by the audience, Matthew covering some parts, and the frequent breaks to catch his breath and drink water. Knowing that his throat must have been hurting like never before made you want to run away with him from there. You had never longed for the end of one of their shows like that.

…

Upon arriving at the hotel room, you helped Alex undress, carefully removing the coat you had wrapped around him after the show. You insisted he take a shower before lying down, even though his body protested. Once you both changed into more comfortable clothes, you assisted him in putting on clean and warm ones. You settled on his lap and gently dried his hair, causing him to close his eyes in serene relief at your touch. You couldn't help but wonder if he was being a bit needy because you were taking care of him, or if he was truly feeling unwell. Either way, you were determined to be there for him.

The night passed quickly, with the two of you cuddled up and intertwined. You lay on your back while he rested his head on your chest, the sound of his rhythmic breathing bringing you comfort as your fingers wandered through his hair, just the way he liked it. The next day was designated solely for his rest, whether he wanted it or not. You woke up early and headed down to the hotel's store to gather some treats that could make his day better. On your way, you ran into Amanda, who had arrived recently to be at the Glastonbury with you as well. She greeted you warmly, comforting you by assuring that Alex would be fine. You couldn't hide the influence Alex had on you, and it was impossible for you to feel okay when he wasn't, not only because he was unwell, but also because you knew he was struggling with the thought of it all. "I think I'll head back. I want to be there when he wakes up," you told Amanda, who held your hand in hers and nodded. Her eyes seemed curious about your intertwined fingers, but you didn't pay much attention as your mind was too overwhelmed to question it. Later, when Kate reacted in a similar way upon seeing you, you accepted that it must be something between them.

Upon returning to the room, Alex was still asleep, and you cautiously snuggled up to him in bed, trying not to wake him. Yet, he slowly opened his eyes, allowing you to nestle against him. He was feeling better, although not necessarily energetic. There was no way he could push himself to perform that night if necessary. He expressed gratitude for having you there for him, knowing that you understood him well enough to know what was best for him when he was being difficult. "I'm proud of you, the show last night was amazing, Al," you said, stroking his chest and planting kisses on his damp cheeks. You understood his self-imposed pressure, but you wanted him to realize that there was nothing wrong with what was happening—unexpected setbacks were bound to occur. He hugged you tighter, and you showered him with more kisses on his face and head. "Would you like me to get you some tea? Or maybe we could catch some sunshine?" you cautiously suggested, thinking of something that could distract him. "No need, right ‘ere is just fine," he replied, rubbing his face against your chest and closing his eyes again. His voice was still hoarse, and he remained as needy as the day before. Fortunately, you had prepared movies to pass the day, and in a way, it comforted both of you. You missed spending time together, and although this wasn't the ideal way for it to happen, you cherished the moments you had. Moreover, Alex was certain that he wouldn't be able to bear being there if it weren't for you. Without you, that room would feel completely unfamiliar and unwelcoming, but with you there, he felt a bit at home, which made him feel safe. It was a beautiful thing that out of all the people in the world, you were his safe harbor.

"I should quit smokin’," he stated, rubbing his face against your chest and closing his eyes again. You looked at him, a bit puzzled. Although you would support him if that's what he wanted, you didn't expect him to bring it up. "Yeah?" you responded, as if he was just voicing an impulsive thought. "Yeah, I think, I mean, you don't smoke. It wouldn't be harmful to you in the near future, right?" He asked as if it was a simple mathematical equation. At any moment he brought up the possibility of a future with you, you felt a bit foolish. It meant a lot to you, and it was lovely to know that it meant something to him too.

"Well, you know, I met you knowing that you smoke. I don't expect that from you, and I don't think it's a concern. Although I appreciate the thought, Al," you smiled, a bit unsure of what to say, but your voice made your silly smile sound loud. He chuckled, noticing it. "Don't you want me to quit smoking?" "I didn't say that, and if you want to, I'll be here to help, but I think there are better reasons and I’m not one of them, at least I shouldn't be one," you replied. He seemed to ponder for a moment, and the comfortable silence enveloped you as your bodies remained intertwined.

"I've been strangely thinkin’ ‘bout how if we were to have children, I wouldn't want to be the person who influences them. And it wouldn't be interesting to be smokin’ ‘round you during that whole process," his voice held something, but it was clear he chose his words carefully. You didn't know what to say, but the atmosphere was purely cozy, and the way you snuggled into his arms was already an answer in itself. “You know, Alex, it's funny how even when you're sick, you're thinking ‘bout shovin’ a baby inside me," he laughed, a nasally sound that filled your chest. "And you love that."

…

Alex already felt at his best. He woke up feeling determined, did what he had in mind to do, and was excited about the evening show. Still, he remembered that he had promised you he would rest after that night. He had brushed his teeth and showered, clearly trying to mask his anxiety. Nevertheless, he kept his attention on you because he wanted to see you waking up, not wanting to miss your expression when you noticed him. As soon as your eyes opened, your sigh of frustration at not having Alex's body there with you was perceptible. He laughed in response, then knelt in front of you, smiling as he saw you groan and wrap yourself in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he arched his eyebrows, holding your face close to his. You seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Until then, you hadn't noticed anything different about yourself apart from the discomfort in your muscles. "I'm afraid you caught something infectious," you laughed, your throat begging for water, even though you knew it wouldn't help. "No way, pumpkin. I told you that," you quickly interrupted him, lightly kissing him until your weak body nestled against his chest. "It's okay. I can get sick. You're the one who has to perform for millions of people and can't, Mr. Turner."

Alex laughed, lifting your spirits. He squeezed you, feeling his own sweaty hands in anticipation. "But I don't want you to get sick, my girl, especially ‘cause of me." He caressed your back, noticing how sleepy you were. He didn't mind if you took the day to stay there, although he preferred to have you there with him during soundcheck and the festival. "It was for a good cause, Al." He laughed, but he didn't seem satisfied at all to see you unwell.

As soon as your dry cough filled the room and your eyes became watery, Alex pulled out a bottle of water for you. And then things happened too quickly for his liking. As soon as it touched your lips, you had already noticed. Your eyes traveled to your fingers, and at the same speed, the silliest smile of all had already settled on his face, his hands still on your waist. He took the water from you, and your eyes went to him, who was still kneeling in front of the bed. Your thumb traced the ring that had been placed on your ring finger during the night, as if it might not be real. He licked his lips, feeling a bit shy. It wasn't as if he didn't know your answer, but it was an important moment, and even with all the unforeseen events that made it messy, he wanted it to be memorably pleasant.

Before he could even ask, you had already thrown yourself into his arms, repeating incessantly that yes, you would. He began laughing like never before, and without a doubt, it would be something etched in his mind, your eyes shining brightly and your face all lit up in response. "I didn't even ask," his cute, nasal voice sounded, making it even sweeter. You held onto his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his as you looked at him excitedly. "Sure, ask so I can answer yes." He laughed more and had to wipe away some stubborn tears with his fingers. "Okay," he swallowed hard, holding you tighter, and you were already nodding your head in agreement. "Will you marry me, my girl?" The flood of "yeses" and the sensation of your body pressed against his made him regain consciousness. It was better than he could have imagined, even though in his plans, that week was supposed to be filled with outings and little surprises. But since you didn't seem to mind. And also, it didn't really matter to him as long as you were comfortable and happy, that was enough for him. The moment stayed in your minds throughout the day. While Alex cleverly convinced you to rest at least while he was doing soundcheck so that you would be feeling better for the show at night, knowing that you wouldn't give up on both, he told you how Kate had helped him choose the ring. It made you feel a little guilty for not paying as much attention to the ring itself while you were realizing what was happening. But that was something he found extremely cute to watch. He said that he had personally engraved his surname on the ring and told he wanted you to do the same with his one. All of this was followed by his sweet and timid voice, and his usual rosy nose that made you want to burst with joy.

You felt happy, but unfortunately, you couldn't deny that your body was killing you, and you needed to rest to make sure you would at least be fit enough to attend Glastonbury later. Alex felt relieved that you agreed, saving his and James' numbers in speed dial and ensuring that he would FaceTime you so that someone could hold the phone and make sure you didn't miss anything. You laughed but cherished every minute of it, and even so, he allowed himself to be delayed for a few more seconds, holding you tightly and making sure you ate just as you had done for him.

And he didn't fail to ask Amanda and Kate to stop by and check on you during that time, which led to a great conversation about the ring and future plans. It was pleasant to be surrounded by them and see how happy they were for you, even though they were stuck in a hotel room with you, no alcohol, just warm soup and tea being shared among you to help you feel better soon.

…

Alex had included your favorite songs in the setlist, and something told you it wasn't accidental. You weren't feeling your best, but you were well enough to be there. Besides, the girls would keep an eye on you to make sure nothing happened. "Alex told me to keep you by the side of the stage and not let you leave, don't be stubborn," James said as soon as he saw you, his tone playful. "Or what, Ford?" He didn't even dare to answer, and this time it was the girls who laughed. You enjoyed the feeling of being among the crowd or in front of the stage in the area reserved for photographers. However, Alex hated that. He always tried to get you away from there. He was afraid that something might happen, and you understood. Most of the time, not always, you gave in and did as he wished, staying close to him.

And on that night, you agreed with him for your own good. He was worried about you enough. If you were exposed to the cold air or felt weak among so many people, it would be terrible for you (as well as for him). Besides, if you knew, he might even stop the show and not continue until he made sure you heard him. You wouldn't doubt that. "James warned me," you chuckled mischievously. They were about to go on stage. He held your cold hand in his, and you could feel the ring against his soft skin. He kissed your also cold nose with a gentle smile and took off his blazer to put it over your layers of coat and scarf. "I know you don't like it, but at least this time, please, pumpkin." You agreed, both knowing that this would happen again in several upcoming shows. "I'll be right here in your line of sight, fiancée." He seemed satisfied with the small victory, finding it cute even though he felt bad that your voice strained from a sore throat. He kissed you. "I won't let you down, okay? I promise?" He spoke softly, his tone laden with vulnerability, and it took you a moment to understand what he meant. "Alex, I know you won't. I said yes for a reason." You hugged him, then cupped his face in your hands. He was emotional, and you found it painfully adorable. Sometimes, you forgot that someone like him also had room for insecurities. "I couldn't be more certain about that, babe. I promise you." He nodded, holding you tightly. Jamie tapped him on the shoulder to let him know they needed to go, and there was a brief moment when all of them slapped your back as if you were best mates, expressing their happiness about it. This transitioned from Alex's worried expression to joyful ones as he saw you blushing with anxiety over not knowing how to react. It was always like this, and they understood you and your way of being. You returned the blazer to him, but he refused. "You're going to sing without it?" you asked incredulously. "It's just for one day, it's fine," he replied as if it were nothing. You thought about insisting, but the truth was that the blazer was warm, and his scent was making you feel good, like a remedy of its own. So, you let yourself hold onto the fabric.

Watching him perform live was always cathartic. This time was no different. The girls joined you, and they didn't hold back from screaming along. You even forced yourself to do the same as much as you could and as far as it was possible. It was all so beautiful. Alex would glance at you now and then, wearing a pure and gentle smile that made you unable to believe your luck. Ah, and it was as if he was never sick, although his voice still sounded slightly stronger than usual, but that was even better. You wondered why you hadn't cried until now, but from the middle to the end, during your most favorite lyrics, as well as those you knew were Alex's favorites, like "Perfect Sense" itself, he started repeating your name amidst the lyrics, and that made you completely melt. Kate had filmed it, and you were eager to see Alex's mother's reaction when she watched the videos. The way Alex looked at you with each note and moment filled your heart in an inexplicable way. He made you understand that there were no limitations to how happy someone could feel. There was always room for a little more of that feeling, and having the certainty in his gaze and actions that it was mutual made you even more his. You could never have enough of him. Every moment spent with Alex felt like a treasure, and you cherished every second.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon@indierockgirrl@bloo-wisteria@bellaturner@cosmoschaotic@nikisfwn@andrews-lovr

[scekrex]

It's me, yes it's me! I know you were all waiting for me! :DD

Yes, yes, it's an another crack fic, yippeecayay, mfers 🤠 Adam and reader arguing about something, might be something stupid or something serious, obviously they still love each other but both of them are insanely stubborn so neither wants to admit they are wrong. The reader goes to cool off, he meets up with a friend and start to just vent his frustration to them when lo and behold, Adam shows up to... Well "apologise" in his own unique way and it's basically him just seeing the location where reader is (They're sharing their locations, Adam's heart cannot handle anymore stress with reader going missing even if for a few minutes), showing up with his badass axe guitar and strumming it, going "I love you bitch... I ain't ever gon' stop loving you... Biiitch", reader's friend just looks at him with the biggest "Really? You actually LOVE him?" and reader just looks back at them with the goofiest grin: "We'll, he's dumb and overly stupid, but he's my dumb and overly stupid man" shrugging his shoulders and goes to Adam to kiss him, just to then smack him and then kiss him again 👀

Babes, I once again have to say that I love your crack prompts, at this point these r the air that keeps me alive bc holy fuck they make me laugh every fucking time.

Do you even

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, fighting (not physically but verbally), slightly cracky

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam, just shut the fuck up for a second, would you?” you exclaimed harshly as you massaged your temples in order to try and keep calm.

He had been ranting about his bitchy band mate who had ditched him last minute before an important gig and you had enough of it. Ever since the both of you had woken up in the morning all Adam had been talking about was ‘how fucking done he is with that bastard’ and ‘how fucking dare that whore to ditch him last minute because he was the fucking Adam and the fucking Adam wasn't someone you'd ditch to fuck some random - and ugly, his words not yours - bbl bitch'. “Just shut the fuck up for a couple seconds okay? I get it, that fucker ditched ya, it was shitty of him, but for the love of God, stop acting like a motherfucking child and get the fuck over it.”

The brunette's hands were on his hips as he shot you a venomous look, “Well, if you would care you wouldn't mind me bitching about something that meant a whole fucking lot to me.” You couldn't help the huff that escaped you as you closed the gap between the both of you, your index finger aggressively tapping his chest as you looked up at him. Because what the actual fuck? You cared, you cared a lot and usually you didn't mind it when he was bitching about something, but you've had a headache all day and Adam wasn't being helpful with his constant talking. You couldn't even bring yourself to feel sorry for snapping at him, you had told him that you weren't feeling well today and yet he had strictly ignored that just for his own benefit. “You know what? Fuck you, Adam. You can suck my fucking dick for saying that. I fucking care, okay? Any ordinary bitch would've left you by now but I fucking didn't because I love you, for heaven's sake. So quit the motherfucking attitude already,” there was truly no way for you to swallow all the anger that was seething inside of you and you really couldn't care less. “I’m out of here, fucking call me when you decided to quit acting like a goddamn manchild,” and with that you grabbed your phones and keys and rushed out the apartment.

Once the door was shut you broke down entirely. Yes, you and Adam had different options on some things, nothing major though, but fighting like that? That was a thing that had never happened before, not when you started dating and especially not after you married him. Fighting with Adam felt exhausting, you hated how your heart hurt - it almost felt like physical pain. So you did the only logical thing and unlocked your phone to call your best friend.

Arlo was someone you could always count on and that was proven one more time when the man had pulled up to the park in no time - that's where you had asked him to meet you - and he came in company of milkshakes. He handed you the cup as he sat down on the bench next to you. “So, you finally figured out that Adam is a huge bitch huh?” that earned Arlo a glare. Yes, you were mad at your husband, but that was no reason to insult the man you loved so dearly. “Quit it, I'm not breaking up with him because of one single fight,” you mumbled as you took a sip of your milkshake, realizing Arlo had managed to get you your favorite flavor. That brightened the mood at least a little. “Look Y/N, I'm all for love ‘n’ shit, but Adam, seriously? I mean you of all people should know how big his ego is and he just proved this by ignoring your well-being,” the blonde continued to rant about your husband and while Adam's ego was huge, his love for you was bigger.

He didn't let outsiders notice the ways he looked at you during gigs, he made it seem casual when his wing wrapped around your shoulder when you two walked through the streets like it was a thing people casually did - they didn't. Touching the wings of another angel, let alone use your wings to shield someone was a big deal due to the wings being hypersensitive. He always remembered what you liked and what you disliked, no matter what you were talking about. He knew and respected a lot of things when it came to you, things he didn't even tolerate when it came to others. He loved you and while for strangers eyes it wasn't visible, it was everything to you.

“Arlo, I didn't fucking call you so that you can tell me what a shitty husband I have, he loves me and I love him, he cares and just because we had one fight in six thousand years won't make me throw this relationship away so you either shut it or you leave, that's up to you,” you snapped at the blonde angel next to you and it seemed to do the job because Arlo closed his lips around the straw of his own milkshake and seemingly swallowed all the hatred he hold for Adam. You knew Arlo was trying to cheer you up, but he was doing a shitty job at that. Down talking your husband wasn't something you would let slide wordlessly. Because when Adam wanted, he was very much able and willing to serve you the world on a golden platter. He had risked a lot for you already and you were aware he would do it all again.

-

In the meantime Adam was still at your apartment. The second you had slammed the door shut behind you he realized how badly he had fucked up. There had always been different options on certain things, that was fine though. Usually you guys were able to talk it out and find a solution that made both of you happy, you never had a fucking fight in over six thousand years and now the fight had been intense enough to result in you leaving.

He had fucked up badly and he knew it.

But he couldn't just wait for you to come back. In the name of the almighty lord above, Adam wasn't even sure if you'd come home for the night. What if you were to stay with a friend until tomorrow, maybe even longer? No, he needed to solve this now. So he did the first thing that came to his mind and checked your location.

When you two had just started dating he had been losing you a lot, mainly because whenever you saw something that you liked or that you thought he might like you were running off to get that thing. So the two of you had agreed to constantly share your location with each other and ever since then that had never changed, these days it was a simple habit. The little icon on the map was pinned on the park. Good, that wasn't too far.

So the man grabbed his guitar and left to apologize.

-

Arlo’s eyes scanned the park for a moment, then he groaned quietly, “Speaking of the devil.” You turned your head to look over to where your blonde homie was looking at and couldn't help but roll your eyes.

Adam was walking straight towards you.

He had his guitar in his hand as he confidently walked across the park just to stop in front of the bench you and Arlo were sitting on. You weren't the only one annoyed by Adam's presence, the blonde angel next to you was just as pleased to see the leader of the exorcists as you were and he let Adam feel that they didn't want him there. “The fuck you think you're doing?” Arlo hissed at the brunette who was simply ignoring that they were even there. He sighed as you looked at you, something in his mimic told you he was sorry but you weren't able to see the guilt in his eyes due to his stupid mask. Fuck, he really couldn't leave that thing at home for just one day, could he?

Adam adjusted the guitar in his hands, made sure his fingers were placed on the right strings and then he started to play a kinda shitty sounding tune - knowing Adam it was shitty on purpose, there was no way he'd accidentally play bad. “I love you, bitch,” he spoke the words more than he sang them but it definitely made your lips twitch up in a grin. Arlo shot you a critical look, they were having none of it. “I ain't ever gon’ stop loving you,” there was a pause, then he finished, “Bitch.”

And that made you full on chuckle, the glimpse of hope that was suddenly visible through Adam's expression showed you that he knew he had fucked up, that he was sorry. And maybe he would apologize properly once the two of you were back at your apartment. “You’re not gonna simply forgive him with that sad excuse of an apology, right?” Arlo asked in shock as you got up and took a step forward to be able to wrap your arms around the first man's waist. “You ain't ever gonna stop loving me, huh?” you asked teasingly as your finger poked him in his side which made him flinch a little. “Dude, Y/N, he fucking overstepped boundaries and you just gonna forget and forgive because he pulled out his shitty guitar and played two chords?” Arlo complained and stepped up to the both of you, they seemed genuinely furious about it. “The fuck’s your problem man, this ain't your fight, this is our thing to deal with,” the brunette growled at them but they didn't care. To be honest, they never cared about anything Adam said or did to them, no matter if it was something positive or negative. “You’re seriously telling me you love that guy?”

You weren't giving Arlo the satisfaction of attention, instead you pulled Adam's mask up so that the LED face was resting on top of his head and the horns of it were near his neck. “I want a proper apology once we get home, if I don't get that, I'll find some other place to crash at for the night, am I clear?” you explained how it would go, all the playfulness was gone, there wasn't a smirk on your lips anymore and your eyes told Adam that you were serious about it, “And then I'd like to talk it out so that we can find a solution in case that shit should ever happen again.” The leader of the exorcists was quick to nod, followed by a loud and clear, “Yes, sir.” And for the moment that was enough. Enough to lean in and kiss him. Adam melted against your lips immediately, a small moan managed to slip past his lips. But the kiss ended as abrupt as it had started and Adam felt your hand on the back of his head, the mask caught most of the hit but he still felt it, “You fucking idiot.” That made said idiot grin one of his stupidly cocky grins, “Maybe, but at least I'm your idiot.” This time it was him who started the kiss, his wing quickly came up to block the view for Arlo, who was watching the two of you a little too intensive for Adam's liking.

[husbandograveyard]

this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Suguru Geto x GN reader Prompt: "why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?" Warnings: This one is a little sad / angsty [a/n]: I love Suguru so much, but I always struggle writing happy stuff for him. I have a more lighthearted thing coming up very soon though, but until then... enjoy <3

He had changed. Unmistakably so. The bags under his eyes, a trait you had always thought attractive, adding to his dark and mysterious charms, had become deeper, darker, a sign of constant exhaustion, of sleep forever lost, impossible to ever catch back up on.

He rarely smiled anymore, and when he did, it never reached his tired eyes anymore. It was just a way to pacify you, to make sure you didn’t insist a fourth time when you asked if he was really really doing okay. You knew he was lying still, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. That he couldn’t really talk about it. 

Until today; he was about to leave for a mission, and you had wanted to go out for dinner together, a little distraction from all the bleakness and losses you had encountered the past few weeks. There was nothing you could do to truly fight the helplessness, feeling yourself buckle under the weight of the negative emotions, barely keeping your own head above water, how were you supposed to help your friend as well? 

But you could provide a little distraction, in the form of comforting dishes on the table for you to share. Silent comfort, except for the noises of your cutlery, and chopsticks accidentally bumping into each other as you both reach for a specific dumpling. A soft snicker. But no conversation. It was too hard, too much, and at the moment just unnecessary, cause there weren’t enough words in the world to translate your feelings into.

When the dishes were empty and you were preparing to say your goodbyes, he caught you off guard. 

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me”

 You blinked in surprise. Those were not the words you had expected him to say. You chuckled nervously, wondering why he suddenly said something like that. It sounded ominous, almost, like a final goodbye.  

"Why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?”

He only smiled in response. The first genuine smile you had seen him do in weeks and yet, it didn’t quite feel happy. It felt almost guilty. It reached his eyes, but his eyes spelled compassion, or even…pity? 

“Goodbye, y/n” 

No ‘I’ll see you later, or after this mission’, no ‘wish me luck’. Just…goodbye. 

You could only stand there silently as he turned around, reaching up a hand to give you a final wave, his back turned to you. While your chest tightened, you realized that your gut feeling was probably right, and this would have been the last time. 

[saythenametotheworld]

Maybe If | l.mk

Genre: exes baggage; angst; smut Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader Synopsis: An unprompted college reunion for a friend's wedding had you looking back on the most beautiful relationship you ever had with the most breathtaking boy you've ever known—Mark Lee. Warning: angst, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 21k words, song prompt was Maybe If by BIBI

"He'll be there for sure." You've lost count of the number of times Nadine said that today. "Will you be fine?"

Even the question about your well-being has been engraved in your mind for days now because she's asked about it each time she remembers Mark Lee being present at your friend's wedding.

"You know, Nadine, it almost sounds like you're the one who dated Mark Lee," Stan commented, giving her a quick glance at the backseat. "Shut up about it already. I'm sure she knows Mark will be there."

"I'm just worried about her. I know it's been a while but what happened between them was intense, seeing how they chose to cut contacts completely instead of being friends. What if they end up fighting?"

"Mark won't fight her," Stan chuckled, glancing at you. "He would never fight her."

You kept your eyes outside the car window, counting the minutes before you arrived at your hometown. You're not thinking about Mark Lee-not even about the messy state you left him in. You were thinking about the town you grew up in; everything you hated and loved about it, everyone you grew up knowing, and everyone you dreaded seeing. It was the one place you wished you never had to return to, the one place that gave you so much to love and even more to hate.

When you left for better opportunities in a different place, you vowed you would never come back. There's nothing for you to go back to anyway, just a miserable old city where you lived a miserable life trying to deal with a miserable old couple. They even told you to never come back after draining you dry of the money that you spent half of your life saving. You have no fond memory of your aunt and uncle. Even the mere mention of their names angers you. The living condition wasn't any better, if anything, you worked your ass off to feed the people who stole from you. You hated it there and you hate it till now.

The one good thing about the place was your relationships outside the house. Reminiscing about your friends should make you smile, but even that became something to hate after you left and never came back.

"Welcome home, guys!" Stan cheered as you entered the downtown area of the small city.

Nothing much has changed, except for a few old establishments you used to work at which now bore different names. The road was definitely better. Streetlights and traffic signs were updated. The trees that once lined the sidewalk are now gone. But overall, the vibe still feels the same and you still haven't changed your mind about not coming back here. If it wasn't for Dianne asking you to be one of her bridesmaids, you wouldn't even consider taking a peek.

"We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" said Nadine, hugging you before you got out of the car.

You'll be staying at the bride's house for the rest of the week to help with the preparations. She said she'll burn every motel in town if you ever so much as consider staying in one instead of accepting her offer to accommodate you. You figured she wouldn't be able to do it for real but the way she was so passionate about it made you say 'yes' to crashing at her place.

"My dearest!" Dianne greeted as soon as she opened the door of her house. You hugged by the doorstep, squeezing the soul out of each other until someone told you to take your dramatic reunion back inside the house.

"Congratulations, Dianne. I'm happy for you and also, thank you for having me as one of your bridesmaids," you told her while you sat around the living room with a few other girls that you were introduced to as her entourage.

"Of course, you have to be my bridesmaid. You and I go way back and did you forget that it was you who set me up with my fiancée?"

You chuckled, nodding as you were reminded of the blind date project that you worked so hard to carry out just so Dianne could have her dinner date with the handsome bookshop owner that she had a crush on. It's been six years since then but they're still together. You chatted for a while, discussing the few remaining things that still need to be done for the wedding. When the doorbell rang, Dianne excused herself to welcome her other guests. You were talking to Amanda, Dianne's little sister so you weren't paying attention to the door. Dianne approached you as soon as the guest came in and spoke in a serious tone.

"I hope you don't mind that Mark is here," she said quietly, glancing briefly at the group of men who just arrived. "He's one of Owen's groomsmen."

"No, not at all!" you replied, waving your hands briskly. "It's fine. It's your wedding. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know the breakup was awful but it means a lot to me and Owen to have both of you here with us."

You gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I know. It's okay, really. This whole thing is about you and Owen. You don't have to worry about us."

"Y/N!" Owen called when he spotted you. You felt a little nervous, knowing your presence had been announced to the whole house and Mark now knows you're here too.

"Owen! Hi!" you greeted, masking your jitters with a jovial attitude. "How are you?"

"I've been great. I'm getting hitched!" he cheered, showing you the ring on Dianne's finger. "How are you? Thanks for coming. We really appreciate it."

"I'm fine. Thanks for having me," you smiled, and then the laughter from the doorway caught your attention.

Seeing Mark after five years felt like a jolt to your heart. The boyish charm you remembered had evolved into something more mature, more refined, and undeniably attractive. His shorter hair suited him, accentuating his handsome features. He obviously found a new style, like you did. It struck you how time had changed both of you, shaping your lives in different directions. Other than that, the girl clinging to his arm is the only thing you don't recognize about him.

Dianne pulled you aside, far from anyone's earshot. "That's Tris, Owen's cousin. She's one of my bridesmaids."

"Yeah, we don't like her," Amanda interjected.

"Mandy!" Dianne scolded but the younger one just raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's true."

Dianne tutted at her before turning to you. "They're not dating and she's just here for the wedding but I think she likes Mark. They've been hanging out ever since she got here which was a few days ago."

You laughed softly, holding her arm. "Thanks, Di, but I don't need to know what Mark's been up to. I'm sure he took good care of himself."

"Right. Sorry. I just had to tell you in case you assume he's dating her."

"Mark won't," Amanda smirked, giving Tris the side eye.

"You don't even know Mark that well."

"Yeah, but he's a nice guy. Guys like Mark don't date skanky spoiled brats."

"Mandy! Don't call people names!"

"Whatever, I don't like her."

You watched Amanda leave the room and escape upstairs, slightly amazed at how much she's grown. When you first met her, she was just twelve years old but she was already chatty. Now she's grown and resembled Dianne a lot but their attitudes are complete opposites.

Mark's eyes fluttered in your direction, catching your gaze before you could look away. He quickly scanned you, then returned to his conversation on the other side of the room. You weren't expecting Mark to be all nice and chatty the moment you met again, but you hoped for something more civil than this. You were ready to do just that, so why is he being hostile?

Why else? You broke his heart, dumbass.

In the morning, you went to a boutique for dress-fitting. The other bridesmaids were here before you so you were the only one left to get your measurements and have the dress adjusted. It was a nice velvety dress with a tiny strap that hugged your body’s figure most exquisitely. Dianne said it was Nadine’s input and everyone agreed that it looked elegant with the right amount of sexy.

“And skin,” Nadine added, running her fingers from your collarbone to your shoulder. She pointed to the slit that goes right up your mid-thigh. “And thigh too.”

“Yeah. I can see the thought process in this,” you ridiculed, although you did like the dress. You just had to point out Nadine’s inclination to revealing clothes.

You had brunch while catching up on a lot of things. You talked mostly about the wedding and how the whole proposal happened. After that, you had a few hours to yourself before Owen and the others came to pick you up for the rehearsals. You were excited to see Timmy again and to find out that he is the wedding planner for this.

“World-class event organizer, coming through,” he posed, strutting in front of you. You giggled, enjoying his display.

“You’re a local event organizer, Timmy,” Stan teased as he approached your circle and stood next to you.

“The best there is!” Timmy insisted. “And it’s only for now.”

Rehearsals for the entourage began, and you were visibly shocked to be paired with Mark. He seemed impassive at first, but as you started walking the aisle together, you saw how much it affected him. He wouldn't let you hold him, and while you were fine with that, Timmy was frustrated.

“Come on, Mark. It’s just a walk. It’s forty-five seconds at best!” Timmy pleaded, but Mark bristled.

“I don’t want anyone touching me, Timmy. How hard is that?”

“It’s fine, Timmy. I’m sure no one will notice,” you reassured, hoping to ease the tension. Reluctantly, Timmy gave in and let Mark have his way.

The practice continued with Mark still apprehensive. Now that the arm hold was out of the way, he found another reason to show his disdain, missing the cue repeatedly. After a few tries, Timmy decided to ignore it and proceeded with the practice.

“Mark is being unreasonable, seriously,” Timmy chided as the three of you drove to grab something to eat.

“You can’t blame him. He hates my guts. Now he’s stuck with me,” you defended, and Nadine agreed.

“That much is still considered a display of patience. If it were me, I’d freak,” Nadine added.

Timmy sighed. “Honey, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Dianne and Owen specifically asked for this. I’m just doing what I’m paid to do and what my friends asked of me.”

“And Mark’s not your friend?” Nadine taunted, earning a glare from Timmy.

“He is. But this wedding isn’t about him.” Timmy glanced at you in the backseat. “It’s not about the two of you.”

You knew that, of course. That’s why you were trying to be civil. He’s the one with the problem, and you don’t blame him at all.

The car stopped in front of a diner that looked eerily familiar. As you stepped out, Timmy mentioned it was the diner you used to work at in college. The owner and the name had changed, but everything inside, except the paint, remained the same. The interior and furniture reminded you of the time you spent waiting tables and cleaning this place.

It was no surprise that you’d attend the local college right after high school. You tried to apply to other schools and although you met the grade requirements, your extra-curriculars did not. The university was in the downtown area of the city, several miles from your house. You remember the last time you went downtown; it was when you had just moved in with your aunt and she was still nice to you. She'd take you once a week for food or ice cream, but she stopped that a long time ago, and now you barely remembered what it looked like.

For the last two years, you were back and forth from your house to your school; a public high school in the east side of the city. The downtown area may be unfamiliar to you but that didn't stop you from landing a job at a diner close to your local university. On your first day, the manager greeted you warmly. After a quick rundown of your tasks, you began immediately.

It was past 2 a.m. when a group of friends came into the diner. There were barely any customers except for a middle-aged guy drinking beer by the counter and watching late-night news. Tina, your coworker, was mopping the floor when the group arrived, and one of the guys accidentally kicked the bucket, spilling water all over the floor.

"Shit, sorry!" one of the guys muttered, picking up the bucket and looking down at the mess he made with panic in his eyes.

"Damn it, Mark. Watch where you're going!"

That was the first time you met Mark. Alerted by the commotion, you peered over the counter to see what was going on. You saw him fumble with his apologies to Tina, who ended up telling him it was her fault for putting the bucket right by the door.

Tina rounded back to the kitchen to grab something for the spilled mess. "This is not the meet-cute way I was expecting to meet Mark Lee."

"Mark Lee?" you repeated, glancing at her as she opened the cabinet of cleaning materials.

"The guy who spilled my bucket," she pouted, fake sobbing before going back outside. “I had a crush on him in high school.”

You hadn't meant to but there was nothing else to do while you were wiping glasses dry so you observed his group. They came from a party, judging by the way some of them were groggy and others looked high. Mark wasn't. He seemed completely sober and less sweaty, laughing along with his friends. They ordered and since you were on dishwashing duty, you never had to interact with them.

You had only four hours of sleep before the first day of university. With your scholarship, you were given a dorm and a 75% discount on your tuition. The conditions were demanding, but you were confident you could meet them. You finished high school at the top of your class, and you were determined to keep your scholarship until graduation. Failing wasn't an option; struggling to keep your grades high was far better than returning to your aunt's house.

"Can I help you?" a senior approached as you looked around the busy school grounds.

There wouldn't be any actual classes today since it was the first day. Clubs and student groups had set up booths for new students and transfers to sign up. There was also a mini-concert planned for tonight, which you found out about from the huge banners at the entrance.

"No, I'm good, thanks," you said, giving him a small smile.

"Aren't you Y/N?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

He smiled and shook your hand enthusiastically. "I'm Spencer, the student body president. You aced the scholarship exam, so everyone who cares about it knows who you are."

"Oh," you muttered, pulling your hand back when he wouldn't stop shaking it. Spencer seemed genuinely excited to meet you. He also seemed like the overly passionate, overachieving type.

"Sorry," he grinned. "By the way, would you be interested in signing up for the freshman representative elections?"

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass. I'm sure you'll find other suitable candidates." You turned to leave but he blocked your way.

"That's too bad, but if you change your mind, the student council office is right next to the Arts and Sciences building."

"Sure. I'll remember that. Excuse me," you said, walking past him quickly so he wouldn't block you again. As you did, a guy bumped into you so hard that you fell to the ground.

"Y/N!" Spencer helped you up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," you muttered, dusting yourself off. You looked at the guy who had bumped into you. He was on the ground too, struggling to get up.

"Mark!" someone called, rushing to help him. "Seriously, dude? Do you ever watch where you're going?"

Mark scoffed. "How do you know it was my fault?"

The other guy helped him up while you watched, recognizing him. Mark Lee—the guy Tina had a crush on.

"Because you're you, dumbass," the other guy chided. Mark looked at you, tilting his head and scratching his neck shyly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was running away from someone," he explained before clenching his fist and showing it to the guy who helped him up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You guys need to watch where you're going!" Spencer scolded them while you took the chance to escape through the crowds.

You found yourself in the Arts and Sciences building, walking down the halls to locate your classrooms. There wouldn’t be any classes today, but you wanted to memorize their locations to avoid wasting time tomorrow.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name," said someone, stopping you by holding your elbow. You glanced down at his hand on your arm, prompting him to let go. "Sorry. I'm Mark, by the way."

"I don't see why this is necessary," you replied. You didn’t mean to be unfriendly, but you genuinely thought introductions were unnecessary. The collision was an accident, and you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be making friends with him. You were you, and Mark seemed to be on a completely different wavelength.

"Well, if I'm gonna be seeing you around, I think this is necessary," he insisted, smiling with his eyes focused on your face, not even blinking.

You told him your name, deciding it was easier to just give him what he wanted so he’d leave you alone.

"Nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it, shaking it once.

"Well then," you said before walking away.

"See you in class!" he called out, but you didn’t look back.

You didn’t think about Mark again for the rest of the day. But he appeared at your workplace after midnight, peering over the counter at you.

"Can I help you?"

"What time do you get off work?" he asked directly, skipping any small talk.

"None of your business. What can I get you?"

"There's a party at school. Why are you here?"

"Again, sir, it's none of your business. Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Can I pick you up after your shift?"

You exhaled sharply, looking around to see if anyone could substitute for you at the counter. Everyone was busy, so you had to deal with Mark yourself.

"What are you doing in my workplace?"

Mark grinned, pleased to finally get a reaction from you. "Stalking you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to laugh.

"No, not really. I'm not stalking you. I'm a regular here."

Your eyebrow remained raised, and you crossed your arms.

He swallowed nervously. "Can—can I get a cola with that burger?" he asked, his voice breaking as he pointed at the menu on the wall.

You punched in his order on the register. "That will be $4.60."

Mark was persistent and patient. You came to know that after he continuously pursued you despite your indifference. He consistently went to your workplace. Sometimes he'd try his luck with a little flirting. Most times he'd just be there, quietly eating his food and taking too long to leave. At one point in the middle of the semester, he started studying there too. Another thing that worked in his favor was your classes. You're both Arts students, and you're both majoring in Arts History so you see him in most of your classes. He always shared your notes and asked you about assignments and stuff. He also tried to pair up with you each time you were given group work.

You mostly just went with the flow. You stopped getting bothered by it when you realized that your snide attitude wouldn't push him away. The attention you gave him was limited to what was required of you by your schoolwork. And you ignored his flirting and his random invitations for a date or coffee, even if he reduced the venue to the university food court. The one factor of his endless chase that you least expected was his friends.

"Yo, it's Mark's muse!" said Stan as soon as she walked into the diner.

Your ears twitched after being called that so you emphasized your name. "Welcome to our diner! My name is Y/n. What can I get for you?"

"Oh, so that's your name? It's cute, it suits you. I'm Stan." Stan beamed. He looked like a typical jock so you were expecting him to act like one but he seemed genuinely glad to know you.

"Yeah, I wonder why Mark always kept it to himself like some obsessed psycho," said the girl he was with. She smiled at you and offered her hand. "My name is Nadine. Nice to meet you, Y/n."

"Hi," you greeted timidly, returning her smile.

"Mark's crazy for you and I can see why," said the third guy whose every move, tone, and clothing tell you he's queer. "I'm Timmy. Not Tim, Timmy."

You found yourself surrounded by Mark and his circle of friends. They were nice, and it surprised you because they looked like the typical rich kids from the west side of the city: snobby, bratty, and mean for no reason. But they were actually good company, balancing academics and social life perfectly. They were popular and smart, and you felt a little bad for having prejudices against them. Although you liked to keep to yourself, you didn’t discourage their presence. You let them join you at the food court when you were alone. You let them drag you to school events and even let them add you to their noisy group chatroom. It never occurred to you at the time that you were making friends, something you never saw yourself doing. You felt so accepted and free with them. And it was safe to say your feelings started growing towards Mark the moment his friends came into the picture because that was when you got to know him properly.

"Mark! Come on, man! You're just gonna walk down the aisle. Why do you keep messing up?" Timmy scolded for the nth time today.

"Sorry," Mark said half-heartedly.

"What's wrong?" Dianne peered from outside the church.

"Mark keeps missing the timing," Amanda reported.

"Sorry, Di. Let's try again, Tims. I'll get it right this time."

"No. This time, y/n will hold you and you won't complain." Timmy linked your arms together and told everyone to go back out. It was the second day of rehearsals but Mark was still keeping the attitude. You were getting annoyed by it, but you chose not to intervene in case he lashed out at you. Not that you’d hate for that to happen, in fact, that would be better than making everyone walk on eggshells around the two of you.

On Timmy’s cue, the music started playing again. You huffed beside Mark, frustrated by the amount of time you had to go back from the top and hyper-aware of your linked arms.

"Stop it," you chided in a low voice.

Mark glared at you, but he kept his voice low. "Stop what?"

"Stop messing up! Why do you keep doing that?" you hissed and he scoffed.

"Because you're annoying, that's why," he spat, giving you a quick head-to-foot scan.

"Mark! In 3!" Spencer shouted and you both diverted your attention to him. You were dumbfounded but you didn't miss the cue and you both walked in together.

The practice ended after another hour and you all gathered back to Dianne's house for dinner. While everyone was busy with conversations, you couldn't help but notice the way Mark was glaring at you from across the table. He's not even hiding it anymore. At first, he just refused to interact with you but now he's downright showing everyone his disdain for you.

"Y/n!" Timmy cheered, walking to your seat to wrap his arms around you. "It's been so long, how have you been?"

"Yeah! You look great! Tell us what you've been up to in the last few years."

You chuckled timidly, embarrassed because of the sudden shower of attention. "I'm well, thanks. I’m a professor."

"She's an Art professor at NYU," Stan added.

"Really? Didn't you move to New York for NYU?"

"Yeah. I got lucky."

You glanced over at Mark who now have his eyes somewhere else.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"What?" you blurted, surprised by the shift of topic.

"Boyfriend?"

You eyed Mark and found him still looking uninterested. "Well, I..."

"No, she's not. She hasn't dated anyone since she left the city."

Timmy scoffed at Stan. "Are you here as her representative? Why are you answering for her?"

"Because she's shy! And was I wrong, y/n? Didn't you say you haven't dated anyone since you and Mark—"

Stan was cut off when Nadine shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. "You're so skinny. You should eat some more!"

You saw Mark stand up and walk away, leaving the entire table in an awkward silence. Stan finally removed the bread from his mouth.

"Was that my fault?"

Everyone glared at him so he just flattened his lips and did a zipping gesture over his mouth.

It was Christmas when you started dating Mark. He took you to see a Christmas movie downtown but it was so boring so you just kept making funny remarks about it. You had been giggling and goofing around so much that you got kicked out of the cinema. You're not sorry though, it was an awful movie. But then you left your beanie inside the cinema and you tried to get it back only for the security guard to kick you out and threaten to call the cops on you.

"Ah, have I given you my Christmas gift yet?" Mark asked as he fitted his beanie on your head.

"You got me a Christmas gift?"

"Of course. That's the point of Christmas."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm pretty sure it's Jesus' birthday."

"Maybe, but if you look further into history, you'll find that yuletide traditions were already around even before Jesus' time."

"Okay, smartass," you scoffed, tucking your hands in your jacket.

"You didn't know that? You would know that if you paid attention in class, y/n!"

You punched his chest. "Shut up. Don't use my lines on me."

Mark laughed, rubbing the part of his chest that you hit. "So, I have a gift."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Promise me you'll accept it?"

You flattened your lips. Mark has a tendency to go over the top with things and you're starting to worry that he might have bought you an expensive gift.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you spent hundreds on it."

Mark's eyes lit up. "Just 3 dollars and 42 hours."

Your brows creased. "Did you make me a Christmas sweater?"

"Yes. The ugliest one ever," he grinned before taking out a small box from the pocket of his jacket.

You found a diner to stop in and order food. Since it was Christmas, they gave you free eggnogs and candy canes.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!"

"Is it for me or for you?" you jeered.

"For you."

"Then I'll open it when I want to."

Mark whined. "Please open it? I want to see you open it."

You rolled your eyes at him as you were sipping on your drink. "Fine."

Taking the gift out, you carefully tore open the wrapping and opened the box next. You first thought it wasn't really a sweater since the box was too small, but you were surprised that it was in fact, a knitted sweater. A miniature one dangling on a keyring chain. It has a crooked letter M on the shirt that makes you grin.

"Did you make this?"

"I know it's ugly, but I made it with love. I even have mine here." He showed you his car keys which the sweater keyring is now holding. That sweater has your initial on it.

"But why is mine M?"

"M for Mark," he replied without missing a beat. You grimaced so he laughed. "You already accepted it. No backsies."

You shrugged and took out your own set of keys from your purse. You placed it on the table and fished your phone then started attaching the keyring in your phone case.

"Those are for the keys!"

"It's mine, I do what I want with it."

"Why your phone though?"

You smile after you're done with the task and let it dangle from your phone. "So that everyone will see it and ask why I have an ugly sweater as a phone accessory."

Mark laughed at that and you watched him for a while, taking in his features; the pretty curve of his eyes, his arched eyebrows, his supple skin, and the way his adorable set of teeth showed when he smiled. You stared and realized that he was the most breathtaking man you had ever met. Not because he's the most handsome or the most good-looking, but rather because he's the one person in this place that made you see the sliver of beauty that it possessed. He made you see that this place is not completely miserable. He made you realize that love can bloom even in a place where you never imagined it could survive.

"And when they do ask me that," you added after a while, making Mark pause to listen. "I'll tell them my boyfriend made it for me."

You saw how Mark's face went from goofy to surprised to delighted in a matter of seconds. He stood up from his seat across you and swiftly pulled you up for a hug. You hugged him back because you realized you were right all along, Mark doesn't only look warm, he is warm. His embrace, his breath, and the way he makes your heart feel. Mark is the warmth that you yearned for in your cold miserable world.

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"If I kiss you, will that be okay?"

"Yes."

And so, Mark did. He scooped your face and you never thought he could get any warmer than he already was but there he was, surprising you again.

"You think Mark's pissed?" Dianne asked worriedly when you saw each other at the breakfast table the next morning. She was asking you but you just shrugged. "He never came back last night," she added, as if you don't already know that.

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just a little under the weather. I heard he had flu a few days ago and just got better," Amanda concluded but that didn't seem to convince Dianne.

"I'm sorry, y/n. We shouldn't have forced the two of you together. It was mainly my idea and Timmy just agreed because he said the thought behind it was beautiful."

"It's okay," you smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Mark just has his issues right now. You know how he is; he won't let this ruin anything in the slightest."

"I hope so," Dianne sighed. "I'm starting to consider changing things up. I know it's about us but I also don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable during the whole thing."

Amanda tapped on your elbow so you glanced at her. "What did go wrong with you two?"

"Mandy!" Dianne chided but you just smiled at her, telling her it was alright.

Everything was well between you and Mark. He was a great boyfriend, just like you imagined he'd be. He was consistent and patient, and he never failed to show you his affection in plenty of ways.

He would offer to help you study, share his notes with you, and help you when you're struggling with any of your classes. He randomly took you to where there's good food and he also showed you beautiful places around the city. He was patient with you and never forced you into anything without your consent. You were just happy, utterly happy each time you were with him. In exchange, you gave him your time, your affection, and your undivided attention. You encouraged him when he was down and insecure. You encouraged his dreams and showed him that he is capable of doing anything as long as he puts his mind to it. Your relationship was a happy one, catering to each other with utmost care and living in the moment while reminding each other of your love.

Mark was content, you were happy. Your relationship had no problems. The problem was you. While Mark bore his whole entire being for you to see and love, you only shared your best side. You showed him your intelligence, your wit, your beauty, and your kindness. But you never showed him your frustrations, your struggles, your darkness, and your pain. You told him your dreams and aspirations but you never told him the things that motivated these dreams. While Mark showed you the good and the bad, you gave him the good and left it at that.

"Good for you! You finally found your way home!" your aunt said sarcastically when she opened the door for you.

"Are you drunk?" you asked despite not caring at all. You walked past her into your bedroom to take some of the stuff that you'd be needing for school.

"You look good. Is the university treating you well? I heard you earned a scholarship," she asked as she trailed behind you.

You opened your bedroom and saw the messy state it was in. It was clean when you left it but it looks like someone had been living in it.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Why would I do that? It's not like you leave anything valuable when you go out," she spat, leaning on the doorway.

You searched through your desk for your files and tucked them safely inside your bag. Then you remembered you needed a few clothing so you went through your closet.

"So how was school? Do they give you a stipend for your scholarship?" she pressed on and you couldn't help huffing when you recognized where the conversation was going.

"They don't. I get a 75% discount on tuition. I still need to pay for the remaining 25," you explained begrudgingly, groaning when you couldn't find the jacket you were looking for. You looked elsewhere and found it on the floor by the hamper. "Have you been wearing my clothes?" you asked but your aunt just shrugged.

"Why would I wear your clothes? They're too big for me."

"That's because you're so thin. I told you to eat properly. But look at you!" you chided, huffing again. "You've been drinking again! It's 9 in the morning! You told your rehab officer that you'd stop!"

Your aunt might have been cruel but she was still your mother's sister. You wanted to hate her to the point of abandoning her, but she looks so much like your mom that you can't even ignore her.

"Stop nagging me and just give me money for food! How will I eat when I have nothing for food?" she hollered back at you.

You decided to ignore her and put your dirty clothes back into the hamper. That was when you saw a few pieces of used condoms right by the basket.

"Gross. What's this?"

"Oh, that's not mine. It's Greg's."

You scowled. "Who's Greg?"

"The one renting your room."

Your jaw dropped. "You rented out my room?"

"You didn't come home and the room was vacant. We needed money because you haven't given us any for the past few months."

"Damn it, Auntie!" you complained, stomping on the floor.

You hurriedly grabbed your other stuff and found a bag to stash them in. Everything important, you stuffed in your luggage and brought it out of the room.

"Where are you going with all that?"

"I'm going back to the dorms. I'll be living there until I finish college anyway."

You dragged it all the way outside the house. Taking your purse out, you gave your aunt a few 20s and told her to stop drinking and buy some decent food. She didn't even thank you and proceeded to tell you that they had no running water because it had been cut off.

"Tell your asshole husband to work! I'm not your piggy bank!"

"What did you say about me?"

You spun when you heard your uncle's voice from behind you. He looked drunk already but he was carrying a bag of alcohol.

"You bitch, what were you saying about me?" he repeated, walking closer so you were face to face with him.

You glared at him, not even scared of his taunting. "I said you're an assho—"

You were cut off by a sudden pain in your shoulder, making you fall onto the ground. You didn't notice the empty bottle he was holding in his right hand that he used to hit you.

"You have the nerve to talk like that after I let you live in my house! You ungrateful bitch!" He raised his hand to hit you again but you kicked his shin. You stood up quickly and hit him with your purse. You hit his head and then his back and again and again until he was on the ground. Your aunt rushed to him so you stopped, kicking the bag of alcohol bottles and spitting on it before you walked away with your stuff. You are never going back there.

For years, he verbally and physically abused you, hitting you when you couldn't give him money and hitting you again when you talked back to him. You will never stop talking back to him, you have the right to do so after they bled you dry of your parents' money. They even went through your college fund and didn't leave a single penny for you. And when you started working, they continued to milk you for the money you earned through your hard work. You were the only one keeping that house running but each time you tried to make things work, they go back to their old ways. If it wasn't for you being a minor, you would have left a long time ago. Now you're a legal adult and you won't stand up for it anymore. Once you finish college, you will leave this place and never come back.

"Hi, you're y/n, right?"

You looked up at the pretty lady who approached you outside the library. "Yes. Can I help you?"

She smiled and offered her hand for a shake. "My name is Dianne. I was thinking of offering you a part time job, if you want it."

"What makes you think I need it?" Your response was a little harsh but Dianne understood that it may have sounded like she was looking down at your financial status.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The library is hiring new junior librarians this semester. It's exclusive to scholars and it has a grade requirement. I was thinking of offering you a spot."

"Oh, I heard about it," you told her, warming up a little.

"Yeah. You see, no one applied yet. A handful did but they did not meet the grade requirement. It's a school foundation effort so having good grades is really important because you'll be getting paid for the job."

"I'll try it out."

"Great. You can apply inside," she said,

guiding you into the library.

You filled out a form and Dianne asked you to wait while they check your grades. The waiting didn't take long and she told you you got the job. You had no class left for the day and you have exactly five hours before your shift at the diner starts so you got started right away on a 4-hour library duty.

The work wasn't hard. You will need to sort books, handle returns, do an inventory every few weeks, and update the portal for every new book. So far it was only you and Dianne on the junior librarian team because as she mentioned, no one else applied for it. Dianne was a senior Linguistics student and she seemed nice.

"I've been a librarian since I was a freshman. My friends have been calling me one too. Sometimes they joke that I smell like books."

You chuckled quietly. She was chatting you up while she was showing you the stock room. That was when your phone started ringing.

"Who is it?" she asked inquisitively.

"My boyfriend," you replied, eyeing his name on the screen.

"Hmmh, good for you that you have a boyfriend. I think this library is the reason why I don't have one," she sighed, leaving you alone to answer the call.

You told Mark where you were and he said he'd be there soon so you finished up with the library work. When you came out, you found Mark in the lounge and he waved at you. This wasn't new because you always hung out with him at the library. But seeing your librarian vest made him laugh quietly. You told him to behave while you do your job. You've been tasked to put the returned books back on their shelves and Mark helped you push the cart.

"You're a librarian now?" he teased while you were looking for a specific shelf.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I am. It's my dream," you joked and he laughed so you shushed him.

"Sorry. How did this happen?"

"They were hiring junior librarians."

"And you signed up because your dream was to be one?"

"Yes. And I get paid to do it," you chimed.

"Sounds like a good deal,” he chuckled heartily, knowing you didn’t mean it.

You were halfway through the tall stack of books and didn't notice that you'd gone further into the back part of the library until Mark pulled you aside.

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, thinking he was running from something. Mark looked around and peeked outside the corner you were hiding in before he smiled at you. You sighed upon realizing that he was trying to be alone with you. "Really? In the library?"

Mark shrugged. "Why? I'm sure we're not the only ones doing it."

"Yes, but right now, I'm a librarian. I should be discouraging this rather than doing it myself."

"Two minutes?" he pleaded.

"Mark," you threatened.

"One?"

"We have time later," you insisted but he pouted.

"Thirty seconds?" was his last bargain.

You huffed before you pulled the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He kissed you right back, holding your waist firmly and even closing his eyes. You might have done it begrudgingly, but you gotta admit how great it was to be kissing Mark. Still, you kept count of the time he bargained for, and right as he was starting to feel up your ass, you pushed him back.

"Your thirty seconds is up."

"Aw," he whined but you were already leaving the nook. He grabbed your shoulder and you winced in pain because he gripped the exact spot where your uncle had hit you. "Oh, shit, sorry! What happened?"

He was quick to push the sleeve of your shirt up and you couldn't even stop him. The bruise was dark and purple and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of it.

"What the hell happened?" he hollered so you covered his mouth and shushed him, looking around the library for anyone you disturbed. You were at the farthest corner though so no one saw you.

"Just some accident at work," you lied through gritted teeth. "Be quiet!"

"You're so clumsy!" he chided softly, kissing the spot tenderly.

"Really? Coming from you?"

The next day, you arrived at the library and were welcomed by Mark Lee, the new junior librarian.

"No way. You're not a scholar. You don't even need the salary," you chided, grimacing at him.

"Well, his grades were good and they're consistent. The scholarship part was a big deal but since were short-staffed, the Head Librarian just agreed to take him in," Dianne explained. "Anyway, I already showed you how to sort these right? Get started on it. Mark, be a dear and help your girlfriend. Take these to the stock room."

You looked down the box of newly purchased books for the library and then to Mark who was smiling when he picked them up and loaded them one by one on the cart.

"Also, don't hook up there. I mean, no one will find out that you did but don't do it! It's unsanitary." Dianne teased so you shushed her.

"Dianne! Gross!"

She was giggling when you left for the stock room. Mark was walking snuggly close to you so you took a step away. But then he came close again so you just let him do it until you reached the stock room.

"Dianne is very nice," he commented while he opened the boxes.

"Yeah, and she's very pretty too."

"I can see that," Mark agreed.

"Right? That's why I was wondering why she's single."

"She's single?"

"She is. She says it's because she's a boring librarian, but I'm pretty sure I noticed a few guys checking her out yesterday. They're even pretending to read."

Mark chuckled. "I think it's because she's pretty intimidating."

"Pretty and intimidating, " you corrected and you both laughed.

"I know someone who likes her. And I was thinking of setting them up. Remember Owen? From the bookshop downtown."

"Yeah, he seems nice."

"What do you think?"

You shook your head, placing the books you've finished counting on a separate box, and then you walked towards Mark. "I think we shouldn't meddle with other people's business."

"I agree," he replied, lips curving into a smile when you didn't stop coming closer. You gave him a coy smile as you placed a hand on his abdomen, firmly pressing on the muscles beneath his shirt. Mark's breathing hitched but he steadied it again. "And I agree with that. Keep going. I will keep agreeing," he declared, nodding his head encouragingly.

You grabbed the tape dispenser from behind him and immediately moved back to your seat in front of the table.

"What will you keep agreeing on, Mark Lee?" you asked innocently as you pulled the tape out to close the box of books.

"Hey, no fair!"

You just laughed when he went behind you and hugged your sitting figure. He even stomped his feet in a tantrum.

"What? You're so naughty. We're literally in school."

He lifted his head from your neck and looked sideways at you. "How about when we're outside school?"

"I don't know. What do you mean by that question anyway?"

"Babe!" he whined again and you just laughed. "Stop teasing me! You're so mean!"

After putting the books in the records, you spent a few more minutes in the stock room making out with Mark to appease him. He didn't ask for anything much, content with what you were willing to give him. He was even grinning like a fool when you left the stock room.

The library became a special place for you and Mark, working together and goofing around. It was tiring sometimes but Mark was there and everything seemed to go well whenever he was around. That was what Mark has become in your life, someone you can lean on who doesn't attempt to pry for anything you're not willing to share. You know it was because he was oblivious to your inner demons, but you were glad to have a part of you that is not influenced by your pain. Sure, you realized somewhere along the way that you became an entirely different person when you're with Mark, but he doesn't know that and you decided to let it stay that way.

"Wow!" you all exclaimed when you arrived at the beach that was more than familiar to you. It had been decorated with a podium, a stage, and the surrounding structures. The only things missing are the flowers and the drapes which will be installed on the wedding day to avoid getting ruined.

"Look at this place!" You exclaimed. "It looks so much better now!"

The beach used to be nothing but a vacant space, with palm trees, wildflowers, and washed-over branches. Apparently, Owen bought it a year ago when the nearby hotel threatened to develop it into an extension of their building. He beautified it and built a beach house where they usually stayed during get-togethers. The beach remains open to the public, except this week for their wedding.

"Hey, isn't this your dating place?" Stan asked you and received a spank on the head courtesy of Timmy. "Ow! Hey!"

"Why would you bring that up?"

"I was just asking because I missed her," Stan defended and you just shook your head before following the girls into the house.

"What do you think?" Owen asked when you entered the house. You couldn't say anything other than gape at the wooden but modernized utilities around the house. It was spacious and you understood why Owen called it The Friends House because it really was big enough to house a large group of friends.

"It's beautiful, Owen. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, you would have seen it before if you hadn't continuously bailed out on our invitations," Owen sulked, pouting at you. Dianne elbowed him and he groaned. "But you're here now! Welcome to the Friends House!"

"Thanks," you chimed. "It's great what you've done to the place."

"This place means a lot to Dianne and me, and it meant a lot to our crazy little squad so, other than the fact that it would be awful to tear the beach down, I also didn't want to lose its sentimental value."

You were about to say something when Mark arrived, making all heads turn to him.

"What?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Mark! You came back!" Stan cried dramatically, running to Mark for a hug.

The others laughed while Dianne called you girls to assign rooms. You shared your room with Nadine and you didn't care enough to ask how the boys assigned theirs. You then went out with the girls for a spa and shopping treatment downtown. She called it her last day of freedom and later tonight, the bridal shower that you prepared with the bridesmaids will take place in the beach house. Dianne called dibs on it because your party was indoors. As for the boys, you had no idea what they were up to.

"So that beach," Tris began while the five of you were getting your nails done. "I heard Mark discovered it?"

"Mark and y/n," Nadine corrected.

"Yeah, Mark," Tris repeated, turning to Nadine. "How exactly did he find such a beautiful place?"

You saw how Nadine grinned devilishly. "By taking y/n on romantic dates around the city."

Tris frowned at her and leaned back on her seat with a ‘hmph’.

Mark liked driving around the city. In the first few months of your relationship, you thought you'd seen everything there is to see but he surprised you again by taking you to the coast. You knew there's a coastline here but you've never been there before. It was lined by resorts and hotels but in a secluded spot westward is a hidden gem that he proudly boasted to you like he's the one who discovered it. Of course, it's been there ever since but it was too far to be considered a go-to place for anyone who wants to go to the beach. It was untouched and beautiful and you did plenty of picnics there, watching the sunset together.

He took you there to celebrate anything. He took you there when you needed comfort or when he needed a break. He took you there for no reason, especially when you both want to go out but can't think of a specific place to go. Most days, you would stay until after the sun has completely set, tangled in each other in a liplock. It was your own little secret until it wasn't anymore.

"I'm hungry," Mark complained, lying on your lap under the shade.

You snorted. "We literally just ate everything in our basket."

"Yeah, but I'm still hungry. I don't know why," he replied, sitting up and looking around. "Should we try fishing?"

"You'll need a boat for that and a fishing line."

"Foraging? Seashells wash up here all the time."

"You'll need to cook it."

"There is some seafood you can eat raw," he insisted and you shrugged.

"Yeah, but I think you'll need at least some salt or something."

He looked at you and stared for a while, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes and back again.

"What?" you asked when he didn't say anything.

"I know what I want to eat," he said seriously, moving towards you.

You scoffed and met him halfway, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "There. Satisfied?"

"No," he replied, still inching closer so you leaned back. "It was a bit bland, chef. I think I need to taste it again."

You giggled still leaning back. When you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, you held onto his neck, but that caused you to accidentally pull him close and fall on your back down the picnic mat. He moved painfully slow towards your lips and kissed you equally as slowly. When he wouldn't kiss you properly, you realized he was teasing you so you bit his lip.

"Ow!" he muttered, laughing at your annoyed expression. "What? I was trying to taste it properly."

You pulled him by the collar and kissed him. Mark stopped playing around then, kissing you properly in the same delirious way you liked it to be. He bit your lip, prompting you to open your mouth and when you did, his tongue slid expertly inside. Four months of dating had you become an expert in kissing each other.

He has memorized your lips, your pattern, and your timings. He kissed you like he studied how to and you have no complaints because the last time you kissed someone has long been lost from your memory. Mark was the best and only kiss you've ever known.

"Mark," you breathed when you parted for a moment. He didn't reply and just dived in to kiss you again. It seemed like he wouldn't be listening to you, focusing too much on your lips, so you gathered your strength to sit up. He fell off on you and looked at you worriedly because of your sudden movement.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." You pushed his chest so he was lying down and straddled his hips. Mark looked up at you in surprise.

"Y/n..." he muttered, hands falling on your waist.

"You're not listening to me," you complained before kissing him.

Mark was dragged into the vice of your lips again, one hand firmly holding your back while the other rested on your waist. Lust has begun to overcome you, grinding ever so slightly on his hard-on. That made Mark pull away and stare at you.

"What are you doing?"

You buried your face on his chest, too shy to show him how horny he has made you in the last few minutes.

"Babe, you don't have to if you don't want to," he whispered, kissing your head and patting your back.

"I want to," you mumbled but he didn't seem to hear. You lifted your head and looked straight into his eyes. "I want to, Mark. I want you."

Mark claimed your lips then and you were back to making out. His hand that once sat innocently on your waist has slid under your sundress, caressing and squeezing your inner thigh. His kisses left your lips to travel the length of your neck, sucking and kissing the supple skin. He sat up to better access your chest, pulling down the sleeves of your dress to reveal your bosoms.

"Oh, baby, look at you," he blurted as he took a good look at your chest before burying his face between them and taking a huge sniff of your skin. "You're so beautiful."

"Mark," you called out, pulling his head away before dragging your bra down. Mark wasted no time and sucked on your nipple, massaging the other one. The moan that escaped your mouth was euphoric, making you grind on his erection even faster. He kept switching between your boobs, all the while encouraging you to keep grinding by helping you move your waist.

"Oh my gosh," you screamed out, feeling your pussy clench with pleasure. Mark flipped you over, taking his shirt off before kissing your lips. When he pulled away, he gave you a smirk that almost made you gasp. Mark had always been handsome but right now, he looked so sexy to you and you knew it was the lust in your head that's making you say so.

He lifted your dress up to your waist and panic overcame you, making you close your legs. Mark just gave you an encouraging smile and squeezed your knee.

"It's okay. We can stop here today," he said softly.

"No, it's not that." You looked away, embarrassed to say the next words. "I've never done this before."

Mark appeared clueless for a second. "Sorry, what?"

You huffed and pushed yourself in a sitting position and wrapped your knees in your arms. "Nevermind. Let's just go if you're not interested."

Mark just laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Hey, that's not what I mean. Come on." He laid you back down, kissing you softly before looking into your eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah."

"It might hurt."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mark! Are we gonna do this or not?"

Mark chuckled, kissing your forehead. "We are. I'm just checking to be sure."

"Fine." You were frowning but you just can't wait for Mark to pick up where you left off. You made out some more, building the heat back up from where it was abruptly halted. Mark began by touching your pussy, feeling up your wetness, and massaging it over your underwear. He pulled away from the kiss and caressed your cheek.

"Alright. Don't worry, okay? I got you," he said, leaving your side to position between your legs. He stripped you off your underwear and looked down at your pussy, then back at you with a smirk. But just as he was about to go down on you, you heard faint laughter from a distance that made you sit up instantly.

"Did you hear that?" you asked and Mark shushed you so he could listen properly.

"Mark?!" called a loud voice from far away. You gasped, taking your underwear and slipping it back on.

"Mark Lee?!" the voice called again, nearer this time.

"Shit, it's Stan!" Mark blurted and you immediately tossed his shirt back to him.

Mark wore it and stood in complete panic so you made him sit next to you on the mat and you both watched the yellow sky like nothing happened.

"Mark?" Stan called, his head peeking through the bushes. "Ah, there they are. I told you Mark is here!"

You glanced back at them, feigning indifference. Mark was even able to act annoyed.

"Yo, guys, what are you doing here?" he asked as Nadine and Timmy followed right behind Stan. "How did you find this place?"

"We were driving around when we saw your car on the side of the road," Timmy explained, looking around. "This place is beautiful. What is this place?"

"Mark found it," you replied, looking at Mark.

"Wow, and you've been keeping this from us? Like, really?" Nadine accused while looking around in amazement as well. "This place is literally paradise."

"It's an undeveloped part of the beachline, Nad. Don't be dramatic," Timmy chuckled. "But you're right. A few tweaks, some flowers and fruit trees, and this place will be paradise."

"Food!" Stan exclaimed, running to the basket you had with you. You just laughed knowing there's nothing in there.

Nadine was the first to call it Friends Beach, mainly because she was obsessed with Friends at the time but also because you didn't know what to call it when you made plans to go there. You cleaned the beach all the time, making sure no one would trash it and Timmy even went on to bring fruit trees and orchids that he attached to the huge tree at the center of the area. You kept it to yourselves, declaring it a private space just for friends. But your friend group soon welcomed two more people in it after a successful blind date mission.

"Mark! Guess what?!" you exclaimed at Mark when he visited you at the diner one day.

"What?"

"You said Owen likes Dianne?"

"Yeah. He said the pretty senior at the university library. Why?"

"How did they meet?"

Mark leaned on the table and thought for a while. "I'm not sure but he said he first saw her when she was delivering books to the library a few months ago. Why?"

You gasped. "Oh my god, I knew it. Listen, Dianne said she met this really nice guy a few months ago and fell in love with him but she heard he has a wife, so she reduced it to a crush. But she always passed by his bookshop every day to see him."

"Bookshop? You mean she likes Owen too?"

"Yes. Other than old man Luciano, the only one with a bookshop downtown is Owen."

Mark was also shocked by your revelation. "But wait, did she say he has a wife?"

"Yes."

"Owen doesn't have a wife."

"Oh, so why did she say that?"

"I don't know. But he's single, for sure. I know because we're close. Although he does hook up sometimes, he's very single."

You nodded at this and gave Mark a big grin. "You know how I said we shouldn't meddle with other people's business?"

"Yeah."

"I take that back. Let's set them up!"

And so, you spent a week planning an elaborate blind date for Owen and Dianne with the help of your other friends. By the weekend, you went home feeling proud that the date took place and then you braced yourselves for the results. Setting it up was the easy part, the hard part was whether they'd click or not. And that's also the part you can't do anything about.

"How was it?" Mark secretly asked when you saw each other at the library on Monday after the weekend date.

"I don't know. I just got here too. I haven't seen her yet."

"Mark, y/n?"

You both jolted when you heard Dianne speak behind you. She sounded stern and looked even more so when you saw her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Dianne! Hi!" Mark greeted jovially, laughing awkwardly right after.

"I know what you guys did," she said without missing a beat and you felt your heart sink. Mark almost knelt on the floor if you hadn't stopped him.

"Dianne, I'm sorry. It was my idea," you blurted but she remained unfazed so you swallowed.

"THANK YOU!" She cheered loudly before hugging the two of you, even shaking your arms in excitement.

"Silence in the library!" The head librarian shouted and the three of you ducked and then ran to the nearest bookshelf to hide.

Dianne and Owen became a constant in your friend group in no time. You hung out often and even turned Owen's bookshop into a mini café where he'd make coffee for you each time you went there. Dianne was definitely older than you and your friends so she mostly acted like the mom of the group, scolding those who were skipping study time and giving out study materials during exams week. Owen just bought you food each time one of you complains of hunger. Your bond grew closer through time until you left and decided to never come back.

You used to belong with these people, a friend and a special part of their lives. Maybe you still are right now, but in your heart, you know you don't deserve to be at the receiving end of their love anymore. You used to love this group, but now you hate them. Not the kind of hate that makes you want to punch them in the face or cut them off, but the kind that makes you hate yourself. Simply put, you hate them because you hate yourself. Why? Mark. He was the reason you became friends with them and after doing such an awful thing to him, you felt undeserving of this whole squad. If anything, you wish they'd hate you but Mark would never let that happen. Whatever happened between you, it seems like he kept it to himself. Because if he did tell anyone, you know they'd hate your guts.

"Are you ready Di?" Timmy asked as he pushed a cart with the cake on it. You all wanted to laugh looking at the dick-shaped fondant adorning the cake, but you stopped yourselves.

The Friends’ House is now filled with girls involved in Dianne's wedding, friends, relatives, and other ladies who were invited to the Bridal Shower.

"Welcome to your last night of maidenhood!" Timmy announced, and Amanda lifted the blindfold off of Dianne's head on cue. You all started cheering when she grabbed the dick cake and bit off its head. Some cameras were filming her as she did this. The party went on with loud music blasting from speakers, champagne showers, lots of dancing, and more alcohol.

By 11pm, the house was reduced into a crowded mess of drunken women, wet with both sweat and champagne and lying down on whatever solid space they could find.

"We're old," Dianne muttered while you lay on the wooden floor with her and the others. "We can't even last until midnight. That's just another hour from now."

You giggled; head clouded with alcohol. You had just started coming down from the high of the party and the sugar rush of sweet pastries.

"No, you're old. I'm just partying with the wrong crowd," Nadine corrected, rolling on her side so she could hug you. "I wonder what the boys are up to."

"Probably falling asleep like we are," Dianne laughed. "Drunk and wasted at 11pm."

"You guys are wasted. Not me," you snorted as you forced yourself to stand up, squinting so your eyes would focus on the figure you were seeing at the doorway. You recognized Mark and immediately perked up.

"Oh, it's my Mark," you grinned, standing up groggily to go to him. You staggered a few times, but you regained your balance, telling no one that you were okay. "No, seriously guys. I'm okay!"

"Oh god, what is she doing?" Nadine asked, watching you walk towards the man and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're a handsome young man," you told him, losing your balance on your high heels but he caught your arm and you just giggled. "Sorry. You look like this guy I used to know."

"Get your shit together, y/n," he chided through gritted teeth.

"Sounds like something he'd say if he sees me like this," you replied, giggling.

"You're drunk. Go get some rest."

You straightened up but you didn't take your arms off of him. "Oh, I'm not drunk but they are!" You pointed to the others and started laughing at them.

Nadine groaned and lay back down. "Ugh, she's gonna regret this."

"Can I kiss you?"

Mark was taken aback but he just frowned slightly. "Why would you do that? Do you know me?"

"You're Mark Lee," you giggled and then scowled. "Or are you? I think you are."

"Why would you kiss me if you know I'm Mark Lee?"

You looked away for a second to think. "I don't know." You glanced back at him and let go of his neck. "You know what, you're right. I can't just kiss you because you look like Mark."

You were about to walk away but he pulled you back to his chest. "I didn't say you can't."

Your whole face lit up, eyebrows rising when you said, "I can?"

"Why don't you try and see?"

You giggled as you wrapped your arms back around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Mark stayed still, holding your waist firmly because you weren't standing properly on your heels. You pulled away after a few seconds of just pressing your lips on his. The grin on your face was satisfied but also drunk.

"Now what?"

You shook your head. "My Mark is a better kisser," you said before burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath.

You stayed like that for a few seconds before a stomping sound was heard on the wooden floors and someone pulled you by the shoulder.

"Hmm?" you inquired before a slap landed on your face. Mark quickly wrapped you in his embrace, shielding you from a drunk and angered Tris.

"Slut!" she hissed before attempting to attack you again but Mark pulled you away from her. He shot Tris a cold glare before dragging you out of the house.

The men outside were still drinking in front of the bonfire when Mark carried you out. Owen called him but he was rushing you out of anyone's eyes and ears. Your hands fell limply on your side while Mark was carrying you, the other was stroking your stinging cheek.

"You okay?" he asked with a grunt, heaving you up. You were a little heavier than he expected.

You smiled brightly, eyes half-lidded as sleepiness started to get to you. "Yes! My cheek kind of hurts though."

"Yeah, someone slapped you."

"I know, silly. I saw it," you laughed and Mark sighed in exasperation, stopping for a while to glare at you.

"Stop smiling. That wasn't funny at all."

You shook your head and then pointed to him. "I know. What's funny is you. You have two heads." You started laughing, throwing your head back and kicking your legs and Mark almost lost his balance.

"For fuck's sake, y/n." He knelt and dropped you on the sand, making you land on your butt. You complained, rubbing your ass slowly over your satin dress.

"You're mean," you muttered, laying your head on the nearby rock before closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You do? Good because I hate you too."

You didn't hear that anymore because you drifted to sleep quickly, your breath steadying. Mark tsked, pocketing his hands as he looked down at you on the sand.

"Get up. Go sleep in your room." But you didn't move and it was stupid to tell you to sleep in your room because he already brought you far from the house, far from everyone; here in the cove that you both know so well. The cove that became your own personal hideout. "Come on."

Mark knelt on the sand and picked you up, patting away the sand on your skin and hair. Then he took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He laid you there and let your head rest on his lap while he rested his back on the big boulder behind him. He stayed like that, convinced you'd wake up soon enough and you could walk back to the house by yourself.

And you did. You woke up with a mild headache and a stiff neck. It was dark and the only light was coming from Mark's phone's flashlight. You sat up and saw Mark sleeping with his back on the rock. You were confused for a second but memories started flooding back to you, making you shake your head in shame. You stood up, picking up his jacket to cover him with it. Then you started to slowly sneak away.

"Where are you going?" he called, making you stop dead in your tracks.

"Nowhere," you replied, sitting right next to him in an instant. "I was just looking around."

"Good. Don't leave," he ordered with his eyes still closed before leaning his head on your shoulder.

You looked around you and recognized the cove you used to hide in after the beach became Friends Beach. It was a bit further into the sparse woods but it was difficult to find. You remembered stumbling upon this area by accident and it has since become your hideout. It wasn't even an actual cove, just a small open space hidden behind tall trees. The lower part of the cliff had been weathered and continuously struck by the waves, making it look like a small cave. Mark has tried to go there before only to find shallow solid rock curvature, no actual cave.

The first time you had sex with Mark was by this cove. He had been trying his luck with fishing but he never caught a single one so he was sulking on the mat. You comforted him by saying you'd buy him sushi but one thing led to another and you were suddenly making out. Mark had been gentle with you, prepping you for himself and making sure you were comfortable. He kept comforting you the whole time, asking if you were fine and if he should stop. And even when you finally got over the painful part, he maintained his gentleness while keeping you satisfied. Ever since that day, sex with Mark became your favorite thing.

Your rendezvous were mostly innocent, by the cove, at his house, and in a hotel. He tried several times to sneak into your dorm but the security was too tight. That was around the same time you started going to parties with them and more often than not, you'd end up having sex in his car after too much alcohol and dancing. Mark was good with anything and he was especially good with sex.

"Why are we here on a weekend?" you asked as you entered Mark's house.

"Because we don't have anything fun to do," he replied, holding your hand as you climbed the stairs.

Mark's house is huge, situated in the suburban area of the city. His family is wealthy, as you've observed but you only met his mother a handful of times because they are never around much. The moment you found out that he was rich, you started to feel small about yourself. He lives in an entirely different world while you struggle to make ends meet. Your love for him was the only thing keeping you from leaving.

"What about fishing? Have you given up on it?"

Mark shrugged. "I can practice next time. For now, I want to lounge around and just do nothing with you."

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his room. "There is no way you're just doing nothing with me, Mark."

He grinned as he closed the door, then stepped towards you to kiss you. "I'm glad you know that."

You scoffed before he kissed you, pulling you close so your bodies were touching. Mark guided you to the bed, your lips still locked together. But as soon as he sat you down, someone started knocking on his door. You both pulled away and he whined as he went to open his door.

"Mom," he asked, a bit surprised. "I thought you were leaving today."

"We had to come back for something," she replied, peering into the room where you sat on his bed. She smiled at you so you returned it. "Why don't you help your Dad find some files in the study? It's very important and he's saying he put them on the top shelves. None of us can reach it."

"Sure." He turned to you and smiled. "I'll be right back."

When Mark left, his mother came into the room and sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

"How are you, y/n? Is Mark treating you well?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am. Mark is very kind to me."

"Good. As he should," she chimed, reaching for your hand and holding it in her lap. "Anything planned after college?"

"A few things, but nothing is set yet. I'm still trying to figure things out," you replied politely.

She nodded at that and then sighed. "I want the best for my son, y/n. And I want him to be happy more than anything else. If you can bring out the best in him while also making him happy, I will be grateful to you until the day I die."

You smiled at her, squeezing her hand as a form of gratitude for her entrusting Mark to you. "I'll try my best, ma'am."

"Thank you." She chuckled heartily. "I may be absent now that he's grown, but I spent most of my life raising that boy. I'm sure he won't ever hurt you. Mark never hurts those he loves."

His mother was right. Mark never hurts those he loves. But you weren't Mark. You're cursed to hurt those you love and ruin them beyond repair.

“Congratulations, Dianne!” Nadine sobbed, hugging Dianne on her seat in front of the mirror.

Dianne just laughed, stroking Nadine's arms affectionately. “Thanks, but I'm not even married yet.”

“You might as well be. You look so ready to walk that aisle already.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the bathroom in your bridesmaid dress. “Oh god, Nadine. She just put makeup on. What would you do when she's in her wedding dress already?”

“I would literally drop dead,” Nadine claimed, carefully wiping her tears so she didn't smudge her makeup.

Dianne shook her head as she walked to the dress with the hired stylist. “No, don't drop dead. We're already one bridesmaid short. We can't afford to lose another one on the day of the wedding.”

“One bridesmaid short? Why what happened? Who's missing?” you questioned and everyone in the room looked at you in confusion. You saw that the only one missing was Tris and was about to ask when Amanda explained.

“We kicked the bitch out.”

“Why?”

Dianne scowled at you. “What do you mean why? Don't you remember getting slapped last night or did that take a toll on your memory?”

“Tris slapped me?”

“You don't remember? Did also forget clinging to your ex and calling him your Mark?”

You flattened your lips together in shame. “I remember that bit.” You were actually so preoccupied with Mark that you don't remember anything else from last night except him.

“Good. Tris attacked you because of that.” Nadine was seething. One moment she was crying about Dianne, now she's so angry that her brows are knitted. “She's lucky it didn't leave a bruise because I'd bury her alive.”

“So, she won't be here today?”

“No. Not ever. She already caused too much trouble with her picky attitude during the wedding preparations. She's not even related to me in any way other than the fact that she's Owen's cousin. I won't tolerate her trampling on the people I care about,” Dianne ranted while she was being dressed.

Nadine comforted her. “Forget her, Di. Don't let some wannabe socialite ruin your mood on your big day.”

Dianne took a deep breath and calmed down. “Thanks, Nad. Oh, by the way, where did Mark take you last night? I don't remember you coming back here.”

“Just someplace near here. We fell asleep and woke up at around 3. That's when I came back.”

“Did you hook up with him?” Amanda asked in surprise so you denied it.

“No! God no. We really just slept. I was drunk and it seems like he was too. Mark would never hook up with me, Mandy.”

“How would we know that when you won't even spare us the details of your breakup.”

You huffed and finished fixing your hair. “This is your wedding day, Dianne. Let's not ruin it with useless accounts of the past.”

“She's right. Let's live in the now.” Nadine started sobbing again when Dianne was done dressing up. “Dianne! I'm so happy for you!”

The sky was clear when you stepped out of the House. Three white cars were waiting for you and you each got into your assigned vehicle, wishing Dianne good luck before heading to the church. The entourage was waiting. The entrance and the ceremony began as soon as Dianne's car rolled in. You found Mark in his place and you rushed over to him, noticing how he offered his arm for you to hold on to as you practiced and even sparing you a small smile before looking ahead. After receiving nothing but a cold shoulder all week, this small gesture of acknowledgment sure made you happy.

“I don't hate you,” he had told you the night before while you two were sitting in the dark by the cove. “I'm just upset, that's all.”

You didn't have a reply to that and you were grateful that he didn't ask for any. It did make things less tense between you. You both were even smiling at everyone as you walked down the aisle together before parting to sit where you were assigned to. The ceremony wasn't slow but it wasn't fast either. As soon as Dianne walked in through the huge church doors, all eyes turned to her and few gasps of amazement were heard. As she drew nearer, you saw Owen wipe a few tears and that made your heart swell with emotions. You realized that even though you believed you hated everyone here, you wouldn't have wanted to miss this important day.

Vows were exchanged and they kissed in front of their loved ones to formally announce their marriage. Pictures were taken too and as soon as you went back to the Friends House, the commissioned photographer had you take a whole hour of pictorial by the beach. You had fun with all of them, the laughter and chatter had you feeling like you got transported back to your college days when you were the happiest.

It was past 9pm when Owen and Dianne left for their honeymoon. The party was swell as they had intended and it didn't end even after they were gone. There aren’t that many people now, just a couple of younger ones who can handle partying until late at night. Stan has turned the entire thing into a frat party and was by the wine table downing the makeshift keg he had set up with a few other guys. The girls were still dancing around to the music but you were getting bored and tired after Nadine slipped away with some guy. Amanda was flirting with someone on the newlywed's chair. You thought about going back to your room but you were assuming that it was where Nadine took her hook up so you decided against it. That was when you decided to go to the cove.

It was dark and it was supposed to be scary out there but you didn't think that at all. You had your phone out, using it as a flashlight as you ventured through the trees. You even took your shoes off when it proved difficult to walk in them on the sand. And as you reached the small open space, you let out a sigh of relief. You were just about to sit in your usual spot when you heard the rustle of leaves behind you which put you on high alert. But then the intruder came out and you saw that it was Mark.

“Mark?”

“Hey,” he greeted nonchalantly, walking past you to sit on the sand by the boulder.

You stood there awkwardly until he noticed you and tapped the space beside him as an invitation for you to sit. “Did you come here to just stand there?”

“Did you follow me here?”

“So, what if I did? The space is not exclusive to you, is it?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes before sitting in the space next to him. When you glanced at him, you caught a whiff of alcohol and frowned.

“Are you drunk?”

“Aren't you? It's a party,” he smarted.

Of course, you're not. You even avoided the sight of alcohol after your embarrassing stint last night.

“You don't seem drunk,” you observed so he glanced at you, your faces were about half a foot in distance.

“That's because I'm not,” he smirked. “I had a few bottles. Not enough to have me clinging on my ex.”

“Mark Lee!” You slapped his knee, frowning at him for reminding you of that. Mark just laughed, content to get a rise out of you.

“Seeing me after five years didn't even affect you one bit but you're getting mad about that?” He smirked. “Good. At least I got a reaction out of you.”

“What?”

He huffed and clenched his jaw, looking away in the direction of the sea. You had long turned off your flashlight but the moon was shining high above so your surroundings were still visible. You can even see the slight changes in Mark's expressions, including the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with a frown.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, taking your eyes off his face.

“No, you're not.”

“Really, I am,” you insisted. “I realized a long time ago how messed up that was. I shouldn't have done that to you.”

“A long time ago?” he asked so you nodded without looking at him. “Then why didn't you come back?”

“I couldn't, Mark. Not when I already had enough guts to leave.”

“That wasn't fair, y/n.”

You glanced at him and saw that he had been looking at you the whole time. You were hesitating to continue the conversation and deep in your mind, you were wondering how you both ended up talking about this, only to realize you brought it up first. “I know that, Mark. I just...” You gave up trying to explain and just huffed.

“What? You're not even gonna explain yourself? After all these years you'd still shut me out? Don't I deserve to know how I ended up getting hurt when all I ever did was love you?”

You folded your legs together and buried your face in your palms, the surge of emotions coming onto you like a freight train. The pain and guilt that you buried deep in your memory for years is now screaming right at your face as if instead of dying, it grew roots and branches and leaves.

“Why did you do that?”

Yeah, why did you?

You were huffing as you rushed out of the taxi cab and ran straight in the direction of that hell-hole of a house. As soon as you reached the door, you pounded on it nonstop, demanding your aunt to come out and talk to you. It opened soon after, revealing an intoxicated man.

“What are you doing here, you ungrateful bitch?” your uncle spat but you brushed past him into the living room.

Your aunt was laughing in front of the television, a cigarette in her hand and a few bottles of alcohol on the coffee table.

“Did you do it?”

She didn't even look at you. “Do what? Be specific when you're asking questions.”

“My salary from the diner. Did you cash it out?”

She appeared to think. “Oh, the diner? Yeah. Yes, I did. Just a few months’ worth. We're behind on the water bill you see.” She pointed at the stack of mail on top of the cabinet by the doorway.

You grabbed them and saw several pieces of mail from the water provider. You took a deep breath to calm down but your voice still cracked. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you. We needed money for the water.”

“But that was for my tuition.”

“It's okay, I'll pay you back.”

“Aunt, you never pay me back! You always say you do, but you never ever paid me back!” you hollered at her, now straight-up crying.

Your uncle rounded the living room and hit the back of your head. “Keep your voice down in my house!”

You watched as he sat next to your aunt on the couch and took a bottle of beer. You were still crying and they didn't even seem to care one bit.

“Auntie, please,” you pleaded. “An advance of three months? What else would I be getting from that? I need to pay for school. I need to feed myself too!”

For the first time since you arrived, your aunt looked at you with disdain. “And are we supposed to just live without a water supply? What's gonna happen to us? The house is gonna reek!”

“It already reeks even with running water!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, shaking in anger.

“Why are you screaming so early?” your uncle threw a bottle at you that barely missed your head.

You froze with your eyes widened in shock, horrified that you had almost been hit right in the face. Sadness suddenly left you, leaving a burning rage in your heart. You felt like you would convulse as rage rose to your head. Your eyes were bulging and the sight of them looking unconcerned is making your heart explode. You crumpled the pieces of mail in your hand and lunged at the table to flip it over. You grabbed the baseball bat from its fixture on the wall and started hitting the alcohol bottles, breaking them to pieces while your aunt and uncle screamed in terror and bewilderment at your actions. As soon as you had your fill of violence, you stood up in the middle of the living room, huffing contentedly before dropping the bat.

“Y/n! What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Your aunt chided and you're now convinced she's too drunk to make sense of what was actually happening.

“You can both drop dead. I don't care.”

You left the house feeling like shit. It reeked so much there that you had to smell yourself to make sure it didn't stick on you. You spat on the ground, disgusted when you think about how you managed to live in that place for a long time. Your eyes were still wet with tears when you noticed the crumpled mail in your hand. You stopped walking to look at it, recognizing the crest of a university you applied to a year ago, at the beginning of your freshman year in college. It was addressed to you and you opened it to read the contents. Your mind focused on the large letters right below the long introductory line and covered your mouth in surprise.

“We are pleased to inform you that your application had been approved!”

You sat on your heels, weeping in utter happiness after what you've just read. You immediately fished out your phone and dialed the number on the letter, afraid to waste another moment, especially after finding out that the letter had been mailed to you over five months ago. You talked to the woman on the phone who seemed delighted to hear from you.

“Yeah, I lost it in my stack of mail because I recently changed my address. I was wondering if the offer still stands?”

“Of course! We only welcome freshmen applicants who passed but for those who received an offer, we are inclined to accept sophomores too.”

You were sure the woman on the other line could hear you crying as you thanked her. She hung up after a polite goodbye and a promise to see you in New York by the start of the fall semester. You wiped your tears and composed yourself as you continued walking. But as soon as you walked out of the house's unkempt picket fence, you saw Mark come out of a corner.

“Babe!” he grinned when he spotted you. “There you are! I was looking for you!”

You felt nervous all of a sudden, wondering why he was there and how he knew you'd be in this part of the city.

“Mark—” You couldn't even finish your speech when the voice of your screaming uncle made you glance back to the house. He was angrily calling your name, waving a baseball bat in the air as he screamed that you're a wicked bitch for making a mess in his house. You grabbed Mark by the hand and pulled him out of there, not stopping until you reached the highway.

“What's going on? Who was that?”

“No one,” you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “That's no one.”

“He called you a bitch. What's going on baby? Do you know that man?” He helped you up and lifted your chin so you were looking at him. As soon as he saw your tear-stained face, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey? What's wrong? What happened? I'm here, y/n. You can tell me.”

“Nothing, Mark. I'm fine,” you argued, your voice breaking as you tried to pull away from his hug. You hit his arms when he wouldn't let go. “Let me go!”

Mark did as you asked, backing away a few paces to give you space. “Okay. Just tell me what's going on. Is he related to you? Did he hurt you? What are you doing on this side of town? You know there are a lot of thugs around here.”

You took a deep breath and looked right at him. “This is where I live, Mark.”

Mark seemed surprised, but the worry on his face didn't leave as he approached to hold your shoulders again.

“Is that man your dad? Is he hurting you?” He scanned your body for any sign of injury. When he looked at your shoulder, he stopped to gaze into your eyes. “The bruise on your shoulder from before, was that by him?”

“He's not my dad.” You shook his hands off of you. “My parents are dead.”

Mark's mouth hung open. “Why didn't you tell me that?”

You felt upset when he asked that. All of a sudden, you were flooded by the feeling of helplessness and loneliness that you endured ever since your parents passed away when you were 15. You blamed them for leaving you behind and letting your aunt and uncle treat you like shit. You blamed them for leaving you to suffer by yourself. And you blamed them because you were lonely and sad for a long time. Meeting Mark was a good way to forget about the immense sadness. But now, even that has been tainted by the loss of your parents.

“Why? So you'd pity me? So you can keep thinking about it and look at me like how you're doing right now?”

“Babe—”

“Or what? So you can decide if I am qualified to be in your life or not?”

“Baby!” Mark scolded. “I did not say that!”

“Then what is it? Did you want to know so you can see if I can make you happy while bringing out the best in you?” you spat, his mom’s words echoing in your head.

“Hey,” he called lovingly as reached for you again but you dodged. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm done, Mark. It's over.”

Mark sighed and held your hand. “Come on. You're emotional. Let's go get some air. We'll talk after you feel a little better.”

“Where are you taking me, Mark? To your fancy house? To that fancy hotel that you paid for with your dad's money?”

“Baby, please. Don't do this.”

“Or, or are you taking me to that damned cove because I'm so easy and I'd let you fuck me anywhere?”

Mark stopped walking and stared at you dead in the eyes. The look almost made you wake up from your angry stupor but you just scoffed.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“Y/n, why are you doing this?”

“I'm done, Mark. We're done. So please, leave me alone.”

You walked on the opposite side of the road while Mark chased after you.

“Don't push me away, y/n. Come on! Let's talk about this. You're upset right now. Let's talk when you're a little bit calmer!”

But you paid him no mind and got into the taxi cab that stopped in front of you when you called for it.

Mark never gives up. You know that and you loved that about him. But now that he's not giving up on you, you feel suffocated. He kept blowing your phone so much that you had to block him. He cornered you in your classes that you stopped attending. You even pulled out of the junior librarian job because he was there. It's all good because you're leaving after the semester anyway. You spent the days filling out forms and preparing yourself for New York. Dianne was kind enough to lend you money without asking why and you were able to pay off your advances from the diner before you quit your job there. You promised her you'd pay her but she told you not to worry too much and take your time. Mark had been camping out of the dorms and several times you saw him get kicked out by the dorm lady. You've been cooped up in the building, not leaving to avoid running into him.

You realized after that confrontation with Mark that you were horrible to him. You were mean and cruel and he didn't deserve any of that. You were upset and justifiably so, but Mark shouldn't have been at the receiving end of your rage. Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. You didn't mean anything you said about him, especially the part where you want to break up. But as you thought about it for days, you realized it was better to break it off with him. You're not planning on coming back here anyway.

Your school announced your departure just before the day you leave. It was great news to be offered a spot in such a prestigious school that your university had to make a big announcement out of it. It was mainly Spencer's idea and the school administration was on board with it. That was how your friends found out that you were leaving. Mark too.

“New York? That's amazing!” Nadine told you while you were at the diner the night before you left.

“I'm friends with a genius. How great is that?” Stan was fake crying as he hugged you. You couldn't help smiling at the support from your friends. But then the bells of the door rang and you turned to see Mark entering the diner.

Stan let go of you and smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don't mind I invited Mark. I mean, I know you broke up and all but hey, he's still your friend, right?”

“You two broke up?” Timmy exclaimed, followed by gasps of surprise from Nadine and Dianne.

“Y/n! Is it true?”

Stan looked surprised. “You guys didn't know? I thought everyone knew.”

“Did Mark tell you that?” Nadine asked.

“Mark?!” your friends turned to him.

“No. I kinda just assumed it. I haven't seen them together for days and y/n haven't hung out with us for a while too so I thought they broke up,” Stan explained.

Dianne started laughing and turned to Owen. “Hey, didn't we have a transaction we need to take care of?”

“Transaction?”

“The books, Owen. For the library. Let's go. We have to take care of it now.” She turned to you and said, “Congratulations, sweetie. Sorry, but we have to go now. Those books are really really important.”

Nadine and Timmy stood up too. “You know what, I think I'll go study for the exams.”

“I thought the exams were over?” Stan questioned and Timmy glowered him knowingly.

“Unlike our smart y/n, I have to retake a few subjects.”

“I'm sleepy as heck,” Nadine added.

You sighed as your friends came up with the lamest excuses to leave but you didn't want to interfere. Maybe it's for the best that you have this final talk with Mark anyway. He deserved that much.

“I guess I'll leave you two alone to talk,”

Stan said, taking his bag and waving goodbye.

Mark sat right next to you, hugging you on your side and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He stayed still like that for a moment and you felt your heart melting into the warmth of his embrace. A part of you is wishing he wouldn't let go and that you can just stay that way forever.

“I love you,” he whispered, just as you started feeling the wetness on your shoulder. Mark's crying. For the first time, you're seeing Mark cry.

You made a move to get him off of you but he tightened his hold.

“Please,” he begged and you swallowed the lump in your throat to stop yourself from crying.

You stayed like that for a while, letting him hug you while you stroke his back affectionately. Eventually, you realized you couldn't stay in that diner all night, so you left and he walked you to your dorm, holding your hand in his tightly, like he was scared to let go. He stopped you from entering the dorm, knowing he wouldn't be allowed inside but you gave him a smile.

“It's okay. The dorm lady said I can bring you inside for my last night on campus.”

It was true. When you surrendered some of the dorm stuff that you needed to return before leaving, the dorm lady congratulated you for making it to NYU. She also told you that you could bring in your heartbroken boyfriend who had been sitting outside the dorm for days now. It will be her way to wish you good luck in New York. Mark saw that it was true when the dorm lady smiled at the two of you by the entrance and warned you not to wake everyone. You were still hand-in-hand even as you entered your now empty dorm room. The only thing intact was the bed and the sheets weren't even yours anymore but the dorm's.

“I'll go wash up. Have a seat,” you told him but he hugged you from behind, refusing to let you out of his sight.

You ended up lying in bed with Mark, looking into each other's eyes as he played with your hair. There was a pain in his eyes that he failed to hide and you were trying not to break down crying in front of him.

“Please tell me this is the reason why you're breaking up with me.”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“Baby...” he pleaded, forehead creasing as he did. “It's okay. New York is far but we can make it work. I'll come to you from time to time.”

“Mark, it's not that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded. “I love you, y/n. I loved you so much. I have loved you for an entire year and each day I spent loving you, I saw no reason to stop.”

“I know that. I love you too.”

Mark's face lit up. “You do?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Mark kissed you right then, pulling you into his embrace so you were flush against his body. You kissed him back, realizing at the time just how much you missed him. Your kisses got deeper and noisier, getting into your heads as he rolled over to cage you underneath him. He pulled away for a few seconds, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but your love for him.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, Mark.”

And so, your last night in the university, in the city, ended with Mark inside you, raw, steady, sensual, and gentle with the right amount of aggression. Just like how you would remember him to be for the next few years.

“I have to leave, Mark,” you told him outside the airport. He drove you from your city to next where the airport was, holding your hand and humming happily to the song. Mark woke up feeling great today, unaware of the truth that you're keeping from him. You know it was cruel, you know you'd break him to pieces, but your selfishness won't let you leave without seeing him for the last time. Even in your final few seconds here, you wanted to be with Mark.

“I know. But you'll come back. I can wait,” he chimed, kissing the back of your hand. You were in his car, parked outside the airport and he had been showering you with his love and innocent little kisses the whole time.

“No,” you croaked, eyes stinging when tears threatened to fall from them. “I'm not coming back.”

Mark frowned, chuckling. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“There's nothing for me to come back to,” you confessed, swallowing your tears to put on the cruel persona that you've prepared.

“Baby, I'm here. What do you mean there's nothing to come back to?”

You just shook your head and he stared at you for a while to see if you were lying. You didn't back down.

“Not even me?” he finally asked so you looked away, one hand ready to open the door on your side.

“Not even you.”

When your plane left that day, you also left everything behind. Your friends, your past, the things that you don't need, and the ones that you need. You left the one you needed the most, the boy you loved and never stopped loving until now, the most beautiful boy you've ever known. Your Mark Lee.

“I loved you, you know. I was down from the start, even when you haven’t told me anything about you,” Mark began, eyes shifting back to the sea. “I would have loved you for whoever you are. I showed you who I am. All of it, even the ones that I considered were bad, you loved me for them. I would have done the same.”

“That's easy for you to say, Mark.”

“And I would have proven it!” he roared, glowering at you for a moment before looking away again. “You didn't give me the chance, y/n.”

“I'm sorry. I was scared.”

“I understand that. But I welcomed you into my life. I made you an important part of my world,” he paused and looked at you with a mixture of hatred and pain on his face. “You made me a fantasy you dive into when you want to escape your misery, y/n. I understand why you'd do that, but you shut me out when all I ever did was love you, support you, and be there for you! None of it would have mattered. I would've supported you when you left! I would’ve gone to you once you decide to never come back I would've fought those assholes for you!”

“I didn't need you to do that, Mark. I just needed you to be you. I wouldn't have asked for any of that.”

“Fine. I get it,” he grunted. “You didn't trust me enough to share your struggles with me. But if I had known about it, if I had known you left because of it, I wouldn't have spent all these years hating you when I loved you so much.”

You stared at him, processing his words in your head. It felt like your mind was firing up with all the information you were getting. But your eyes found his lips and you couldn't even think to stop yourself before you pulled his collar and kissed him. He kissed you right back, aggressively, torridly, biting and sucking without mercy. When you pulled away, overwhelmed by his aggression, he smirked at you.

“You haven't changed at all, have you? Do you still like grabbing people by the collar?” he asked, obviously not looking for an answer when he kissed you again, lifting you to sit across his lap while he unzipped the back of your dress.

You let his hand wander, even arching your back when his lips traveled to your chest. He sucked your skin, bruising it and leaving marks all over you while you moan and grind on his hips.

“Oh, Mark!” you whimpered, grinding faster and harder against his clothed cock. Mark hitched your dress up, pulling your underwear down and thumbing your clit.

“That's right, baby. Call my name,” he smirked. “Call my name. I bet you missed that, huh? Or did you meet another Mark back there?”

You moved to unbuckle his belt but he stopped you, gently slapping your hand away and chuckling. He took off his coat and placed it on the sand before laying you down there. When his weight left you, you called for him, making him grin cockily as he stripped you off of your underwear. You watched as he unbuttoned his pants and let it fall to his knees.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around, on your hands and knees.”

You felt humiliated being ordered around like that, but that didn't get in your head and instead, turned you on. There was something about Mark right now that is unfamiliar to you. Has he changed over the years? It doesn't matter, you were too lost in your lust to think about it and just want him inside of you.

A scream tore out of you when he suddenly pushed his cock in, roughly, without warning. He covered your mouth while you winced in pain, feeling like you had been brought back to the first time you ever had sex, which was with Mark as well.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in your ear, his voice mean and menacing. “Good. You probably deserved it.”

He started bucking his hips, thrusting violently into you. You should be angry, but you're only crying in so much pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He slapped your ass cheek once, and then twice, and several times again because each time he did you let out the lewdest, naughtiest moan he's ever heard. You were dirty because of lust, because of Mark. And you didn't mind, you liked it. You liked how he ravaged your skin with bruises caused by his intense kisses. You liked how your ass is stinging with each spank. You liked how he's drilling into you and thrusting hard like there's no tomorrow. You liked the disrespect and the bouts of pleasure that it sent through your entire body.

“Cum, baby. Don't be shy, let it go,” he ridiculed when your cries turned into faint whimpers. “I said do it!”

He thrusted roughly into you and that sent you into a spiraling orgasm that had you collapsing on weakened limbs. Mark stopped, letting you fall limp on his coat before gently turning your body so you were lying on your back. He wiped the sweat on your forehead and tucked away the hair that gathered on your face. Then he planted one tender kiss on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, laying his head on your chest. “Was it too much?”

“Why? You can't handle it?” you challenged so Mark lifted his head. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

“How are you still atrocious with your words?”

“How are you still obsessed with my body?” you retorted and Mark shrugged.

“To be fair, it's an immaculate body.”

“And your dick is still hard,” you pointed out. Mark smirked at you and positioned himself on top of you.

“So I can fuck you into oblivion but you'd still have enough audacity to get smart with me?”

You just giggled while Mark leaned to kiss you. He prodded your entrance again, taking a few test penetrations before doing it fully as if he hadn't already left you wet and overly lubricated with your own juices. Mark fucked you again, this time in a way that's more like Mark, like how you remembered it to be. When he started losing strength in his arms and his movement became erratic, you knew he was close so you wrapped your legs around his torso, telling him to keep going. Mark went faster and harder until he pushed his very last thrust and came inside of you. You bit your lip, satisfied by the sex and even more so by the look on his face. You missed this man so much and you also missed how you can reduce him into such a mess with just your body.

“If I get you pregnant, that's on you,” he quipped, laying on top of you. You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “I guess that's fine too because you'll have to marry me. I don't want my child to grow up with a broken family.”

“Well first, how do you know I'd keep it?”

“I don't, but assuming you would, I won't let him grow up without me.”

“And second, that's not gonna happen because I take birth control religiously.”

He lifted his head and frowned at you. “Do you sleep around in New York?”

You scoffed at the intrusive question and he shook his head briskly and pressed his cheek on your chest again.

“No, never mind. Don't tell me. You could have had a hundred boyfriends there, I don't care. You're here right now, so that's all that matters.”

You pushed him off of you but he wouldn't budge. “For the record, you were so obsessed with me before that I had to regularly take birth control pills. It just became a habit. I haven't been sleeping around, unlike someone I know.”

“Are you accusing me?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Mark just laughed as he stood up to put his pants back on. He then helped you up and gave you your underwear that he had kept out of the sand by placing it safely on the rock. He also helped you zip your dress back up before nuzzling on your neck.

“You smell different.”

“Perfume.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“You like this perfume?”

“No. I like whatever you wear as long as it's your skin.”

You scoffed and pushed Mark away. “Hey, aren't you supposed to be mad at me right now?”

He shook his head and pulled you back into his embrace. “I don't care about any of that now.”

“Ah, so sex solves everything?”

“Of course not. But I do know you wouldn't have sex with me if you didn't still have feelings for me.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Was I wrong? As far as I know, you hate casual hookups.”

“That was before. How do you know I never hooked up in the last few years?”

“I do know you never dated anyone after me,” he grinned confidently and you were dumbfounded. “Why was that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Stanley needs to zip his mouth, seriously.”

You huffed, leaning on his chest and letting him inhale more of your scent.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he cooed after a few minutes just quietly cuddling. “I'm sorry that I wasn't the safe haven you needed me to be.”

“No, I am sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that. You've been nothing but good to me. And somewhere along the way, you were too good for me and I tend to ruin everything that is good.”

Mark buried his face on your neck again.

“I kept thinking about you, you know. That's why I never really moved on. I kept thinking that maybe if I opened up to you it wouldn't be hard to give this city a chance. Maybe if I let you in, we could be happy even when I'm away. Maybe if I trusted you to accept me for who I am, I wouldn't be so miserable.”

“What if we try again?”

“Mark, I can't possibly put you through that again,” you complained, turning to face him but he captured your lips, shutting you up until you were weak and vulnerable underneath him again.

Your stay was extended and during that, you let Mark reel you in, showering you with the love he wished he had given you during those missed times. Your days were filled with reminiscing and reliving your youth by revisiting the old places you used to go to and doing the things you used to love doing with him. It was fun and you found yourself wishing time would stop for the two of you. Sometimes you think about not leaving, but you know there is no life for you here. Your love for Mark may be a valid reason to stay, but love alone is not enough to be content with your life. You have already established yourself in New York and that's where you are content with your life. The happiness part is still a work in progress, but you've achieved a lot so far and you can't risk all of that for love alone.

On your last day in the city, a lawyer came looking for you in your hotel room and told you about an inheritance. The visit prompted you to visit your old house, now abandoned after your uncle went to jail and your aunt died of lung cancer caused by secondhand smoking a few years ago. You were told that it is yours now, given that you were her only living relative and your uncle doesn't qualify because they were never married. You have a choice to keep it or sell it. You decided to sell it, not even hesitating. You never had fond memories there anyway.

“Wow, how long has this place been abandoned?” Mark asked as he followed you inside. The place was clean and you assumed they had it cleaned out after your aunt died. You've been told she died in the hospital but she also had a bad case of hoarding junk and the house was a complete mess before authorities were called in. Despite the neat appearance, cobwebs covered the ceilings and dust sat on every piece of furniture, a sign that no one had lived there for a long time.

“Long enough,” you replied, walking towards your bedroom. Even that was cleaned up. Nothing else remained except for a few pieces of furniture that had always been there. You didn't waste time reminiscing or looking around because you knew there was nothing to find there. You took everything important to you when you left so there really is nothing else to take.

Except maybe for the picture on the wall. One that is of your mother and your aunt. They look so much like each other with just a few distinguishing pictures. You took it from the wall and dusted it, tucking it on your side before turning to Mark. You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

“Let's go?”

“Let's go,” he nodded, offering his hand for you to hold on to.

You thought you would have a breakdown in there once you remember everything that pained you and everything that ruined your girlhood. You thought you'd fall back into the abyss of misery, but you didn't. You didn't even feel anything at all other than a slight tug when you saw your mother's picture. The house will be sold and you will never need to go back there again. Ever.

“Time to go,” Mark smiled at you after he dropped you off at the airport.

“It's been fun, Mark,” you told him, smiling bitterly at the thought of leaving your love behind. Again.

Mark laughed derisively as if trying to deny the situation. “No. Not again, y/n. I thought we're gonna work this out?”

“I've made a life for myself there, Mark. There's nothing for me here.”

“Me? I am here.”

You sighed, reaching to touch his cheek. “If I could, I'd take you with me anywhere. I want you as much as I want the life I've been dreaming of. But I've made big leaps, Mark. I can't jump back down.”

“I understand. But would you think about it? You don't have to live here. We can make this work, you know. I can go to you.”

“It won't make me feel any better to know that you're sacrificing your own life for me,” you sighed.

“I'm not. I'm making my own choices.”

You just smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I'll call you.”

“Sure. You can do that.”

He scooped you up in a hug and kissed you before you went to board your plane.

Two weeks in, you met Nadine for brunch in New York. She had been complaining about losing you to Mark so she travelled just to see you.

“So, you're like, LDR?”

“The LD part, yes. But we're not really in a relationship. He wants to, but I kept discouraging it.”

“Why?”

You gave her a stern gaze. “Because we're grown adults now, Nadine. We can't casually date around anymore.”

“Of course we can. But you won't because you're thinking of dating with the prospect of marriage.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Not explicitly, but you're doing it subconsciously,” she argued, pointing to her temple. “I can hear it in your tone.”

“Since when were you an expert on my tone?” you ridiculed, shaking your head.

“Since college? You never really changed that much, hun.”

You shook your head again, giving up on the argument and eating your food. Nadine checked her phone for a second and pointed out the date.

“Today's the 17th. Mark should be here by now,” she quipped, showing you her screen.

“In New York? Why?” you questioned, curious.

“Yeah. The last time we talked, he said he'd fly back on the 15th. Why do you think I chose now to come? So we could all meet up.”

“I'm sorry, fly back? Why would he be flying back?”

Nadine looked at you in surprise. “You don't know? He never told you?”

“No. He never told me anything about coming here.”

Nadine dropped his fork and covered her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, I wonder why he didn't? He's been living here since last year. He got a job in an art museum.”

“He did what?”

Nadine sighed and shook her head disapprovingly. “For someone who's big on career and aspirations, you seem to not care about Mark's at all.”

“Hey, I do. We just don't talk about that stuff,” you defended, taking your phone out to see if he ever mentioned coming to New York.

Indeed, you don't talk about careers, mainly because you were reluctant to tell him you were doing so well as a professor and you didn't want to hear he has a good, stable job back home. Hearing that would make you feel even more upset about the fact that he can't leave that city and you can't go back either. So you avoided it. But why wouldn't he even mention that he's literally in the same state as you are when he knows it's a big deal for you?

Nadine told you where Mark worked and what his job was, then you headed there right after brunch. You realized it wasn't even that far and you're not just in the same state but in the same city! Just a couple blocks from your workplace was the museum where Mark worked as an art curator. And ever since last year, you have visited that museum more than a dozen times as a field study with some students. You walked in there, looking around the familiar building. When you spotted a lady who looked like a staff, you approached her to ask.

“Hi. I'm looking for Mark Lee. He's an art curator here, I believe,” you began and she gave you a kind look of discouragement.

“I'm sorry, but it won't be possible to meet an executive staff without an appointment. May I know what this is for? Maybe I can arrange something.”

You took out your ID and showed it to her. “I'm an Art professor. I just have a few things to discuss with him.”

“Oh, Miss y/n! I know you,” she smiled at you. “You're from NYU. If you would just follow me through here, I'll show you to his office.”

You thanked her and followed her into the elevator that brought you up several floors up the building.

“Mr. Lee is fairly new here but he's done a pretty good job so far. Everyone's just amazed at his efficiency and his knowledge of Art History,” she told you as you walked through a corridor and a few offices before she stopped in front of one door with Mark's name on it.

“Mr. Lee is right here, in this office.”

The staff knocked and called out to him. When you heard Mark's voice from inside, you felt your heart jump nervously in your chest.

“Go ahead.”

You walked through the door and found Mark buried in some papers. When he looked up, his eyes widened in recognition of you and he immediately stood up to approach you.

"Hi!" he blurted, amazement evident on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted shyly, looking around his office. He pulled you into a tight hug and whispered how much he missed you several times.

“What are you doing in my workplace?” You couldn't help but smile at the sudden surge of nostalgia.

“Stalking you?”

He seemed to remember the same thing because he laughed. “Are you a regular here?”

“Yes but, I actually came to stalk you.”

“You're a really pretty stalker.”

Mark halted his work, calling for a break before he took you to a sandwich place across the street. Then you sat on a bench in front of a fountain that was also right in front of his workplace. He told you he was swamped with work as soon as he came back and he'd been meaning to surprise you if you hadn't surprised him first. He also said he knew you were a regular and that you always came from time to time to tour your students. But at the time, he was still pretty mad at you, so he just sneaked peeks at you.

“Like a stalker?” you quipped, making him laugh just as he was trying to drink.

“No, not in a creepy stalkerish way. But yeah, I guess.”

You smiled absent-mindedly, watching him eat through his sandwich like he had been starved. It was an adorable sight and the emotions filling your heart were satisfying and beautiful.

He soon noticed you gawking. “Oh, sorry. I skipped breakfast.”

“Why are you curating art?” you asked instead of responding to his apology.

“What do you mean? It's my job.”

“You're the art.”

Mark burst out laughing again for a good minute, hitting his thigh several times while you wore a smug smile, proud to have made him laugh so much.

“Sorry,” he blurted but then he started laughing again. “Gosh, y/n. You're a really bad flirt.”

“But I'm a good comedienne,” you boasted before taking a bite from your sandwich.

Mark started laughing again and you happily watched, looking out at the sky. The two of you sat on that bench, hand in hand, eating an amazing New York sandwich. Together, somewhere far from your old city, somewhere you can both be happy.

“Oh, god, I love you,” he blurted as soon as he recovered from too much laughing.

“Say that again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I love you.”

You giggled. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

“That's nice. Again.”

“Alright. Now you're just messing with me!”

“Say it, Mark Lee!”

“I love you!”

[Fin]

[yallthemwitches]

Old Habits

“She wanted company—doesn’t do too well in crowds but says she likes the energy.”

“And you?” 

“What?”

“Like the energy?” James offers her a look that's a mixture of teasing and earnestness. 

“I like your energy.”

Back to endless fluff and pre-dating pining for @jilytoberfest Day 19: “You could say it a hundred times and I still won’t listen.”---though I feel the prompt got away from me a bit.

(PS. I originally had this scenario idea for one of the kinktober prompts but then found it worked for jilytober nicely. Maybe I will write a part two that continues the scene with a steamy moment, but I sort of like that it's just a soft tender minute between our two idiots. We'll see I guess~)

AO3 Here

“Why are you wearing that, you didn’t even play today.”

She nods her head towards the shining letters spelling out Gryffindor emblazoned on his jersey and he looks down like it’s the first time he’s noticing. 

“Dunno, guess I was just feeling…patriotic?”

Lily snorts, handing James another butterbeer from the table. Around them yellow and black confetti hangs in the air, plush couches full of slightly tipsy Hufflepuffs celebrate their victory against Ravenclaw. 

“Well it’s very conspicuous of you. Especially since their win means you are the next opponent.” 

“Something tells me I’ll be ok.” He flashes a smile and Lily feels a familiar surge of energy, still not sure if it’s a positive or negative sensation.

They aren’t the only non-Hufflepuffs to grace the hive-like common space, but they are in the vast minority. Being two of maybe five other people not sporting some straining shade of yellow, she tells herself that's the reason he was easily found leaning against the perpetually sunny circular windows, looking just at ease in a rival living space as he would his own sitting room.

James regards her from over his bottle as he takes another swig. 

“So what brings a fellow Gryffindor into the honey pot?” 

Lily nods over to Pandora who is distracted by some cacti in the corner that are looking under nourished. 

“She wanted company—doesn’t do too well in crowds but says she likes the energy.”

“And you?” 

“What?”

“Like the energy?” James offers her a look that's a mixture of teasing and earnestness. 

Lily snorts. “Can’t really say what this nebulous energy means, but I guess it's fine.” She smiles back, something she’s been doing more of recently: smiling in his direction and actually meaning it. 

“Yourself?” 

“I like your energy.”

Her cheeks flood with color and she tries to cover it by taking a sip from her bottle. His eyes alight but the grin that usually follows when he catches her in a moment of embarrassment doesn’t come. Instead he looks down nervously, heel toeing his feet around the plush shag carpet. 

“I’m sorry, I should know better.” He begins, and Lily feels a cold air stir the otherwise cozy room. “It’s just—after yesterday...” His words teeter into the air and suspend there, the set of his shoulders tense.

“If you could just–” 

“I told you, I don’t know.” She murmurs, shrugging. 

The kiss they shared yesterday had been chaste. Delicate and tender and over faster than it had occurred. They hadn’t talked about it since, Lily actively ignoring him at every turn to not have to answer for her actions. She couldn’t explain what had come over her in the darkness of her patrols, tugging his arm to follow her back to the dorms when she caught him out past curfew.It had just felt right, but to admit that to him was impossible. He would want more than that and she had nothing else to give. 

 James slouches his shoulders, deflated without an answer. He looks up and opens his mouth to plead a case, but a bellowing whoop cuts through thick air, stirring them. Harvey Alton, the Hufflepuff beater, slopes his way beside Lily, cheeks already rosy from a few drinks. 

“Hey jagoff! Looks like I’ll be playing you next!” Harvey gives a playful punch to James’ arm, who stares at the point of impact with a deadpan expression.

“Sure seems that way, Alton.” James responds flat, flickering a look at Lily with eyes trying to finish what his words couldn’t.

Harvey makes a loud laugh and turns to her, stare going soft and cloying like a camera changing its aperture. 

“Hiya Evans! Glad you could make it!” He leans in for an awkward side hug, which Lily accepts out of politeness more than anything. She feels his hand linger on the small of her back. 

“You here with someone?”

Out of the corner of her eye she can see James lean farther into the window, taking a swig of his drink while running his hand through his hair. The ends stick up straight in all directions, giving the impression that he is the one who flew to victory and not Alton. 

“Yeah, Pandora, though it seems she’s found better company with the plants.” 

Alton nods, lips twisting upwards. It’s an expression she knows all too well: a bloke who thinks he has a chance. 

“Well, I was getting tired of the boys if you want to come sit with me? Maybe you didn’t get the memo but you don’t have to only converse with your housemates.”

He gives a wink to James who just stares back, jaw firm.

“Actually–I should be getting back—” 

“Oh, c’mon.”

“No, but I have a potions essay.”

“Aw, Lily you can’t leave already!” 

James, who had become very interested in the decor since Alton showed up, snapped his head back to them at the sound of her name. Lily looked up at him, eyes slanted, curious if his boldness came from the alcohol or pure stupidity.

“Er, I—”

“I was actually about to walk her out.” James stands up, dusting his pants with his hands. When he moves, his jersey catches the light from the charmed sunlight and glints like fire. 

“Oh, really? I mean, if you wanna keep enjoying the party, I’m happy to walk her.”

“No, but thanks.” James doesn’t even try to cover up the firmness in his voice. 

“Evans? You ready?” He raises his eyebrows at her and starts for the door. Lily catches his step, not bothering to say bye to a still preoccupied Pandora. 

They say nothing as they walk towards Gryffindor Tower but what their conversation lacks, James’ hands make up for. With every other step he ruffles his hair, somehow reaching new levels of dishevelment. 

She knows it's his nervous habit, but she had been under the impression he had grown out of it. No longer the first thing he did the second he saw her, she would dare to even say that his hair had been looking more presentable as the year went on. But for whatever control he had been showing for the rest of the time he was now making up for, switching hands to comb his fingers relentlessly, pushing the strands into a more unruly mass.

“Potter..” she sighs, sounding more like a warning. 

He keeps his eyes forward, hands compulsively traveling from head to his side every other minute. 

“If you are angry about Alton, don’t be. He was just pissed.” She hopes this will calm his nerves, but it doesn’t. Hands continue to move upwards, hair tousling in its own private storm surge. 

“He’s never really even talked to me—dunno why he thought he could use my name..” Silence, hand twitching upwards.

“Merlin’s sake, I’ve told you a million times I hate it when you do that— will you just quit it,” she huffs. James’ hands freeze at his sides, looking like he’s been kicked from behind.

She turns towards him, completely flustered. “I swear to Christ one of these days you are going to go bald because you keep—you keep doing this.” 

She lurches forward on the tips of her toes and thrusts both hands into his hair, twisting the strands between the pads of her fingers. His hair feels soft, like silk. Not at all ratty or knotted like she had assumed from his tormenting.

It only takes a second to realize what she has done and she moves to recoil away from him. Reflexes better than hers, he grabs onto her wrists, pressing her hands firmly into his head, forcing their eyes to meet.

“You are so–lovely.” 

His voice is soft in disbelief. “Do you know—you must know how lovely you are.” 

He removes his grasp on her wrists, but her hands linger, their bodies naturally pressing together. 

“Tell me why you kissed me yesterday,” he whispers, his breath hot on her face. She could unravel her hands from his hair, push him away, deflect any or all knowledge of what he is referring to. Instead, she knots them in farther, dissolving into him. 

“I don’t know.”

“Then can I refresh your memory?”

She is suddenly breathless, his mouth pressing into hers, hands finding her waist and small back.

When he pulls away his mouth hovers over hers, breath sweet and warm. His hair slips softly between her fingers. 

“Well?” She feels his bottom lip slide over hers and a thumb circles into her hip. Her mouth pulls into a smile, clinging to his roots so as to not completely crumble under him. 

“I’m still not sure,” she says against his mouth, already slotting her lower lip between his, "Remind me again.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :

"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"

Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol

Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3

TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)

Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today

Anywahs

Hope you enjoy anon!

Written on mobile

CAINE:

Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)

Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you

While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)

So what was the occasion that prompted that?

A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"

(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)

POMNI:

Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed

That said I think she struggles to keep up with you

Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...

Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail

Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j

RAGATHA:

No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)

Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle

Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there

JAX:

I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it

That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke

Anyways

I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans

Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not

That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature

KINGER:

Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic

"Kinger is only 48-"

Hush♡

"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what

Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned

Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)

ZOOBLE:

As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)

Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda

You know

Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy

GANGLE:

Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue

Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on

As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3