#okay fair I do need therapy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bumblequinn · 6 months

Text

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

2K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 8 months

Text

☆༉ — SEISHIRO NAGI. touch me, soothe me.

about. if there’s one thing nagi’s going to put effort into — it’s making his baby feel better when the world gets you down. or nagi + spank therapy because i said so. i need him.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, nsfw, fingering (f!receiving), spanking, spank therapy, squirting, dom/sub dynamics, use of colour system, cockwarming fem!reader, pro player + soft dom!nagi

when you have a lot on your mind, the first thing you do is turn to your boyfriend, nagi.

he acts as a sort of centre point for your comfort, whenever the world gets too much and there’s too much weight on your shoulders. nagi willingly accepts his role of caregiver, stress reliever, anything his angel needs him to be. he’ll do whatever it takes to see you smile and laugh again even if it means seishiro has to put in a little extra effort.

besides, it helps that you get a little needier when you’re stressed out.

“s-sei!” there’s something so satisfying about the way you curl into him, trying to make yourself smaller against nagi whenever he’s close by. a quiet ‘fuck’ drifts from between his parted lips, watching the meat of your ass ripple from the impact of his his hand against it. your core loosens a tad and your lashes make soft contact with his bare shoulder when you blink back the hot liquid that slips from your pretty eyes.

nagi knows that when your jaw goes slack and your drool starts seeping past the boundaries of his clothes — that he’s making you feel good, making the day hurt less. carefully, he runs a hand over the tender zone to pacify any pain you might be experiencing from being smacked about like that.

“shhh, pretty thing. you’ve had such a long day. lemme take care of you, kay?” nagi coos to you soothingly as he smooths his hand over the area where heat blooms on your ass cheek. “d’ya want the next one to be harder or softer?” he feels your lips tremble against his bare neck, and the tears that drip onto his shoulders and if he didn’t know any better — he might think you were crying out in pain rather than relief.

your shaky voice quickly soothes the player’s concern while you nuzzle into him further. “harder, please.”

nagi let’s out a noncommittal hum, the sound comfortingly reverberating through your frame as you cling onto his larger one. “such a good girl, for using your manners with me.”

he waits a few more seconds, letting you prepare for impact, before his heavy hand comes down against the opposite cheek. he revels in the way that you jolt with your nails digging into his milky skin so hard that they might break flesh. but as quickly as you tense up, you sag in relief — letting all of your worries flood out of you as the pain from being spanked subside.

the strangled moan that escapes you tells nagi that he’s doing a good job at helping ease your tension. the effort he’s putting in, evident in the way his palms tingle from spanking you so hard. there was some weight to that one.

“check in with me, angel. how are we doing?”

you’re still a quivering mess when you answer your boyfriend, swallowing thick and choking back your tears. the stress that you had been experiencing now burns and brews into something hotter, a slick gathering between your thighs. “green,” you hiccup, tauntingly dragging your hips back and forth against the white haired striker’s lap. “‘m okay to keep going.”

“oh, pretty thing.” seishiro cocks his head to the side, brushing a thumb under your eye before another tear drops. “y’gonna kill me. s’not fair…so pretty like this,” that very same thumb drops to the swell of your lips, barely pushing past them to enter your hot mouth. “tell me how you want it, then i’ll make you cum.”

obediently, you suck on the digit that your boyfriend offers you — your frenzied emotions instantly calming down. “wan’ a few more in a row… keep going. please.” you slur around him as nagi slowly fucks your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to watch you writhe.

as per your request, the player continues to bring a a rapid and heavy hand down against your pert ass — groaning as the flesh jiggles beneath his touch. it all rushes to his head, the sound of skin meeting skin, your hushed, dreamy sobs and sighs, the way you claw and cling to him. he’s dizzy with lust all for you but somehow manages to power through long enough to make an effort for you, make you feel better before he tends to himself.

you’re all squirmy with sore cheeks by the time nagi is done, but you’re happily snivelling into his neck as he ruts up into you — hard cock pressed against your soft thighs. “sei,” you plead gently, rocking back against his erection and whimper when it’s thickness sinks between your wet, panty-clad folds perfectly. “think i need a little more help… with the stress relief…”

“i think so too, angel,” seishiro replies with a rasp, already in the midst of rolling you onto your back and into prime position to ruin you. somehow, two sets of hands fumble between your bodies to push and pull clothes aside — allowing the genius player’s cock to slide right into your soaked and fluttering hole. both of you sigh out in relaxation, your moans syncing up into the most airy-fairy harmony. “might need to fuck it out of you, fuck you s’good pretty thing. s-shit… you’re so warm ‘n tight around me… gonna make a mess…”

with newfound motivation, nagi draws his hips back and bucks into your tight heat, using one fluid motion to fill you up with his drippy cock. it’s the cry you let out and your fingers gripping the sweaty silver roots of his hair that drive the man forward, forcing more of his throbbing dick into your sensitive little cunt while his free hand reaches down to toy with your clit.

he’s going to fuck you until you’re numb, dumb and crying because of him — not because of work. pound you until your pussy froths, because seishiro really would do anything for you to feel better and less stressed — even if it meant fucking you starry-eyed and delirious.

1K notes · View notes

foreverinadais · 7 months

Text

forehead kisses: mk system

summary: how and when the moon knight system give you forehead kisses.

warnings: fluff (i swear this was therapy to write), tiny bit of angst but not between the reader and the boys :)

word count: 1.8k

~STEVEN~

The tears had gathered in your waterline as soon as you reached the door. Something about this place, this flat, offered a sense of home you had never had. The familiarity alone made you feel safe enough to cry.

You tapped the door, a weak attempt of a knock, but Steven heard, had been waiting by the door since you had messaged you had left. A bright beam was on his face, a soft glisten in his eyes as he swung the door open, ready to bear hug you into his arms. But his expression faltered at the sight of yours; watery eyes, lip trembling, body hunched in defeat.

He didn’t say anything as he took your hand in his own, leading you through the doorway, nudging the door shut with his foot. You followed meekly; his hand soft, warm. Your grip tightened. He noticed immediately.

“D’you want to talk about?” He asked, voice so soft, so gentle, it made you want to crumble. You shook your head, not a no, just a not yet. He nodded in understanding, taking your work bag off you, placing it on the side, before getting to work on ridding you of your jacket. All in a silence so comfortable, it made the thoughts begin to dissipate in your head.

He led you to the sofa, sitting down and leading you to do the same- you did. “C’mere,” he whispered, “need’t hold you. Can I hold you, my love?” You nodded, and as soon as your body met his, the dam broke. He tutted, but not at you; at whatever it was that had caused you any kind of pain. One hand stroked up your back, the other cradled your head into his shoulder.

“ ‘s okay, let it all out, there you go.” You did, all the pent up emotion of the day, week, coming out all at once to him. And when your sobs subsided to sniffles, he was there, still.

“ ‘m sorry.” You croaked, releasing yourself from his grip, only slightly, only to wipe at your eyes. He was already there, swiping a stray tear away with his thumb, a concerned look evident in the lines between his eyes.

“Whatever for?”

“I didn’t want to cry, not to you. I didn’t want to ruin your day and now I have and ‘s not fair-”

“Don’t be silly, baby. You didn’t ruin anythin’, you never have, ever. I want you to cry to me. I would do anythin’ to be the one you cry too for the rest of time, ’kay?” You sniffled, looking down from his gaze, nodding hesitantly. “Hey, lemme see your wonderful face. Missed you.” He demanded, but his tone was light, cheeky.

You obliged, the first smile since entering his flat appearing on your lips. He grinned in triumph, pulling you in for a kiss, then another, and another. You giggled, his name leaving your lips with a laugh. “I love you.” You whispered, and he could swear his heart reinvented itself every time those words left your lips.

“I love you more. Promise.” You hit his chest in joke protest, but he caught your hand in his, pulling you back into his body. His breath fanned over your head, and you swore your heart sang as he pressed a firm, sure, loving kiss onto your forehead. A sigh of contentment left you, and you felt your body finally relax. “Now, tell me about your day, sweetheart.”

~MARC~

You had looked after him plenty of times before. Cleaned up his wounds, bandaged his cuts, leaving affirmations and soft touches in your path. Marc accepted it, though he would never admit just how much he needed your touch. He would never ask for it.

Especially not today.

When Marc had stumbled through the door at a late hour, muttering under his breath with irritation, you knew instantly the type of day he had. You put the bookmark in your book, placing it on the side before swinging out of bed. You never slept until you knew he was safe, until he was back with you.

Marc had his back turned away from you, lost in thought, or argument, struggling with his jacket before hanging it up. You called his name softly, enough to break through the wall in his mind, and he turned instantly.

“Oh, baby.” You whispered at the sight of his bruised eye and bust lip. He shrugged, laughing, but you could tell it wasn’t in humour. “What happened?” Marc sighed, shaking his head, coming close to you, but not close enough. You filled the gap immediately, running a hand through his curls before cupping his jaw.

“You should see the other guy.” You smiled, rolling your eyes.

“You say that every time.”

“ ‘s true.” You rose an eyebrow, a silent encouragement to get him to continue, to be serious. He sighed again, dropping his gaze form your own. “Got jumped by three of Harrow’s guys. Fought them off alright, but they managed to get a few hits.”

“You fought them off? You did good, why are you feeling bad?” He knew you didn’t mean physically.

“Cause I almost didn’t! ‘s, I don’t know, embarrassing. Konshu would be pissed off and…” he trailed off, but you encouraged him with a gentle grab of his hand. “Don’t wanna bother you.”

“What?” He seemed exasperated, and you ran your thumb over the skin of his palm, feeling his heartbeat increase.

“When I come back… hurt, or whatever, it’s you that has to deal with it. ‘s not fair, not for you. I just, I wanna give you the best, baby. Feel like I don’t do that.”

“Oh, Marc.” You whispered, sympathy and care dripping off your tone. “You could never bother me, ever. I hate seeing you hurt, but I love caring for you, I’ll do it happily. Because I love you.” He didn’t seem convinced, and you tipped is gaze up to meet yours. It was rare you were in charge of such intimate actions, and it made his heart skip a beat, his mouth run dry. “You give me the best every day. Promise.”

“Don’t deserve you.” He muttered quietly, but you caught it, crumpled it up, threw it away.

“ s’not true at all.” He sighed once more, playing with your fingers, yearning for your touch. You heard him silently, tugging his hand toward the bed. “Let’s lie down, yeah?” He nodded, stifling a yawn as you got comfy under the covers, him not far behind.

He didn’t reach for you like he normally did, not when he felt so vulnerable. No, you reached for him, pulling him to you. He gripped your waist tightly; afraid you’d vanish if he let go for even a millisecond.

“How’s your head, baby?” You asked, and he hummed.

“ ‘s fine. Hurts a little, but ‘m fine now.” You smiled, reaching down, moving the stray curls out the way before planting a kiss on his forehead. His skin flushed, heart stopping at the action. You repeated it once, twice more for good measure, repeating ‘I love you’ so it stuck.

Marc felt his eyes shut, consumed by your love, finally feeling at peace.

~JAKE~

Jake had been anxiously awaiting for you in his car for well over an hour. He had dropped you off with a kiss and soft words of praise, and you had told him he didn’t need to hang around, that you’d call when you were finished. But after you had left, he found himself staying. Not wanting to miss as you came out, so he could be there for any and every reaction you had.

So that he could celebrate you or comfort you- he didn’t think for a minute it would be the latter.

But your nerves had transferred over to him, leaving a pit in his chest. He knew you should get this job; you had worked your ass off ever since he had known you. He was ready to march in and show or tell that to anyone who didn’t agree.

He glanced at the clock again, a profanity leaving his mouth at the time. He felt such an intense urge for you, to see you and kiss you and know you were okay. He wished for your success well over his own. Like, it only mattered if you were happy, if you got your dreams- you had scolded him for thinking that more times than he could count.

Jake jumped at the sound of the passenger door opening. Fuck, he had zoned out, lost in the thoughts of you, like he usually was. You were there now, scrambling into the passenger seat, eyes lit up and wild. He didn’t have to ask because you were already exclaiming - “I got it! I got the job!”

A sound of utter happiness and pride left Jake, and he felt his heart beam as you practically leapt into his arms, ignoring the way the gear shift dug into your thighs as you settled in his lap. Jake held you close to him, praise and love falling from his lips as though it was all he could ever say to you. Your body radiated warmth- as though you were the sun personified.

Jake pulled away, kissing all over your face; your cheeks, your jaw, your eyelids, eventually your lips. You laughed, happily accepting, feeling dizzy all over again. “ ‘m so fucking proud of you.” He said, pulling away, a look of sincerity etched into his features you had never seen before. You smiled gratefully, emotion rising in your throat as you thanked him, hands in his hair. “Seriously. Tan orgulloso- so proud.”

“Thank you, Jake. I couldn’t have done any of this without your support-”

“Na-uh, this was all you. All you, mi amor.” He kissed you again, and you sighed with joy.

“Love you.” You murmured, and he grinned, face heating as if he had never heard you say it before.

“Te amo. Love you so much.” You spent a moment, then, staring at each other, taking in the serene moment. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, desperate to keep this memory of you forever. Smiling, proud of yourself, thighs squeezing his legs, hands in his hair. Fuck, it was everything he could ever wish for.

Lost in the thought, he cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down softly so that your forehead was level with his lips. He kissed the skin, lips lingering, taking in the moment. Your breath hitched. You had kissed him countless times, even just in the car, but somehow, this moment felt so intimate, you could hardly breathe.

He noted your flustered expression as he pulled away, tipping your chin up with his fingers. “Now, how should we celebrate?” You grinned, wasting no time before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. “Good plan.”

#steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight headcanon #moon knight fluff #jake lockley fluff #marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff

498 notes · View notes

tainsan · 7 months

Text

misfits XI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of therapy, self deprication, mature scene but it's not crazy

⇥ word count: 9.5k

⇥ a/n: okay i know you have all been looking foward to this chapter, it is an intense one and i hope yall finally enjoy some much needed romantic tension ;-;

⇥ this chapter is for my wife @l0vetiny, ilysm!!!

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Resting in your room, you stand at the crossroads of your emotions, torn between the familiarity of cherished friendships and the allure of a potential romantic relationship. The idea of taking that leap excites and terrifies you, as it means venturing into uncharted territory with people you've known and admired for years.

Whenever you look at your group of friends, you can't help but feel a tinge of envy towards their popularity. They seem to effortlessly navigate social situations and grab attention wherever they go. Would you be able to handle the spotlight that inevitably comes with being associated with them in a romantic capacity? You know about their jealous fans, and the attention you would most definitely receive upon starting a relationship. Not to mention the rumours and bad words that would be spread once someone finds out you aren’t just in a relationship with one of them, yet all of them.

Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and you know that building it anew on different grounds will be a crucial step. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for something more with them, to explore a connection that goes beyond friendship. Their laughter, the inside jokes you share, and the way they understand you have always made your heart skip a beat. Yet, the fear of jeopardising your bond keeps you hesitating, wondering if you can afford to risk what you already have.

You battle with your own insecurities, questioning whether you're ready for the rollercoaster of emotions that a romantic relationship might bring. Are you enough? Can you handle the weight of their expectations? The prospect of letting them down frightens you, and you're afraid of losing not only a romantic partner but also your close friends.

The truth is, you think you want this relationship, yet you acknowledge that timing is everything. The decision weighs heavily on you, and you need to be certain in your heart before taking the plunge. You owe it to yourself and to them to be genuine, vulnerable, and ready to embrace the changes this choice will bring.

You decide to step away from your bed for a moment, feeling the weight of your emotions overwhelming you. Making your way to the bathroom, you start your nighttime routine, pausing for a few seconds to look at the bottle of moisturiser, bringing a flood of thoughts of Yunho to your head.

Yunho has changed so much since the day you first saw him in the kitchen. His transformation has been quite remarkable. You can't help but reflect on how he's evolved since your trip to the store for your moisturiser. Initially, he appeared rude, his demeanour shrouded in a kind of icy reserve. It was almost as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

However, as time passed, you noticed the shift in his demeanour. When you went to the furniture store together, it was like the walls he'd built around himself were slowly coming down. Yunho's newfound warmth towards you is reminiscent of the time from your high school days, when you sought refuge from the troubles at home and found peace in the warehouse, where he discovered you alone.

Back then, you were both navigating the challenges of adolescence, and life had already presented you with your fair share of hardships. It was in those moments of solitude, away from the chaos of your respective lives, that you forged a unique connection. Yunho, with his quiet strength and understanding, had become a source of comfort and support during those difficult times.

The memories of those moments still linger, etched in the corners of your mind. Now, as you both find yourselves facing the complexities of adulthood, it's heartening to see that the genuine care and compassion that existed between you during those formative years has resurfaced.

Since the heart-to-heart conversation in the kitchen, where the weight of secrets were finally lifted, Yunho has transformed before your eyes. He's become someone almost unfamiliar to you, but in the most delightful way.

It's as if the depths of your conversation unleashed a new side of him, a side that perhaps he had kept hidden or hadn't fully embraced until now. The Yunho you're getting to know is a true gentleman, a man who takes the time to say sweet things to you, even if his cheeks and ears turn a delightful shade of crimson in the process.

Shaking off the thoughts you look into the mirror, peering at your reflection with a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt. As you gaze at yourself, a flood of insecurities surfaces. You scrutinise every detail, the lines on your face, the curve of your lips, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. Negative thoughts swirl in your mind like a tempest, questioning whether you're worthy of love from such amazing individuals.

You wonder if they see the same flaws you do, if they'll be disappointed when they look at you more closely, or if they'll realise you're not as perfect as they might have thought. It's a daunting prospect to believe that someone could genuinely care for you, especially when surrounded by a circle of friends who seem to radiate charm and confidence.

The fear of rejection and judgement gnaws at you, threatening to sabotage the happiness you yearn for. You can't help but compare yourself to them, feeling like you're an outsider in their world of popularity and allure. It's as if a little voice inside your head tells you that you'll never truly belong, that you're not good enough to deserve their love and affection.

Tears blur your vision as you try to silence the self-criticism, the lingering doubts that seem to echo through your mind. You question whether you'll ever be ready for a relationship with them, wondering if your insecurities will push them away, destroying the friendship you hold so dear.

Moving yourself from the bathroom, you attempt to find a moment of peace to collect your thoughts. Finding refuge in the comfort of your bedroom, you close the bathroom door behind you and sit down on the floor in the centre of the room, feeling the weight of hesitation settling upon your shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, you're confronted by a flood of thoughts about your mental health issues, trauma, and the complex needs you carry within you. The struggle with anxiety, the lingering effects of past experiences, and the emotional scars that sometimes feel too heavy to bear; they all come rushing back, demanding your attention.

In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, a surge of doubt grips you. You begin to question if the boys you have grown to love, who seem to have it all together, would truly be capable of handling the intricacies of your mental health journey. Would they understand when anxiety creeps in, leaving you paralyzed with fear? Could they be patient and supportive when the shadows of your past cast their long shadows over your present?

It's an agitated storm of self-doubt, wondering if your needs might be too much for them to bear. The fear of burdening them with your struggles gnaws at your heart, and you find yourself grappling with the thought that you might not be deserving of their love and care. You so desperately wish to be happy, and the happiness you feel when you are around the boys is stronger than you have ever felt before. You definitely need to talk to Jisung about this, his advice always seeming to relieve the pressure off your heavy heart.

Today you only expected to confront the eight men about the past, finding out answers and you seem to have got more than you bargained for. One part of you is glad you know their affections towards you, yet one half is torn from having to make the decision.

With your room being shrouded in darkness, the only source of light being the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, you try to relax on the floor, your knees pulled close to your chest, surrounded by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You know you should be getting to bed, sleeping for the next day which holds lectures withholding important information. Time seems to stand still as you replay the heartfelt words spoken by the eight men.

Amidst the turmoil of your mind, there is a sudden knock on your door. Startled, you glance at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest. Hesitating to answer, the door slowly creaks open for you, revealing the silhouette of Seonghwa standing there, his expression mirroring the same restlessness that is keeping you awake.

“Can I come in?” Seonghwa quietly asks, scared to be turned down, yet as he sees the gentle smile and nod cover your features, accepting the invitation, the man makes his way in. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his presence brings both comfort and a further storm to your heart, as the confession resurfaces in your mind.

"Mingi and I just got back from managing the bar, but I can't sleep," Seonghwa says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

His honesty only deepens the emotional turbulence inside. You are grappling with the same uncertainty, the same fear of what the future may hold.

“Come sit with me,” you say, hoping he will relax next to you.

As he settles down beside you on the floor, there is a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The room is filled with a mixture of emotions – the lines of friendship blurring before your eyes.

“You don't find it weird do you?” Seonghwa says breaking the heavy tension that suddenly coated the room.

“Find what weird?” You question, not sure as to what Seonghwa is asking.

“Us being together, as nine.”

You realise Seonghwa is inquiring about the group's dynamic and relationship.

“Not really…” you start, not knowing if you should disclose your worries with Seonghwa, yet when you see the pleading look on his features, you feel your walls breaking, “honestly I'm just worrying whether I'll fit in, you guys are so close. I don't know if I will be able to be good enough for you guys.” You admit, feeling slightly embarrassed to be admitting such information.

“___,” Seonghwa says your name softly, feeling awfully upset you would even think you weren't good enough to be with them. “You are perfect for us, you don't need to worry about anything. There is nothing you could ever do that would make us think you don't belong with us. If anything, we don't deserve you. The kindness you have shown us, despite the rumours, despite everything has shown us enough. Whether it is with us or not, we just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

Gently, you cast a grateful glance towards Seonghwa, feeling a rush of emotions as his words wash over you. They bring both comfort and solace, embracing you in a tender embrace of understanding and support. It stays silent for a while as you let his words touch your heart.

“I’m doing better…” Seonghwa says, once again breaking the silence and you wonder as to why he suddenly uttered those specific words.

When you shoot him a perplexed glance, Seonghwa responds with a soft chuckle, sensing your confusion. He then proceeds to clarify his statement with a reassuring tone.

“Back when you found me on the rooftop…” Seonghwa trails off as he sees the way you hold your breath reminiscing the night, he relaxes slightly as you nod at him to continue, ignoring the sudden surge of negative emotions clouding your vision.

“The boys encouraged me to seek help. I was feeling so lost and overwhelmed, like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I took that first step, and it changed everything. My therapist helped me understand myself on a level I never thought possible,” Seonghwa pauses, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I’m so happy for you Seonghwa, truly. That is amazing.” Seonghwa helping himself, becoming better and finally feeling alive truly brings happiness to your soul.

“When I heard you were in this school, I was really nervous at first, I was scared you were going to see me as the guy from high school who was constantly bothering you.”

Seonghwa huckles along with you, the shared laughter carries the weight of old memories and newfound understanding. You can't help but reminisce about the times when Seonghwa would follow you around school like a loyal companion, a testament to his friendship, even if it did sometimes border on being a little bothersome.

“I was worried you were going to be a different person completely, but when I saw you again for the first time in years, even though you have changed physically, you were definitely still the same.”

“What do you mean?” You question, not sure what his words mean.

“Your laugh, your voice, your humour, your kindness, your eyes. They are all the same as back then. But your eyes, they are brighter now, happier. You are just as, if not, even more, beautiful.” Seonghwa admits, “I don’t think I can lose you again.”

Silence falls upon the two of you as you let the tender words of the man in front of you sink in. The words of love play with your heartstrings, making your end decision even more daunting.

"I don't know what to do," you finally whisper, your voice breaking and Seonghwa immediately realises you are speaking of the confession and proposition, “I like you, all of you, yet it just seems so fast, so new.”

Seonghwa listens to your confession and when he senses the depth of your reciprocated feelings, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs him. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine, as if he's on the brink of something incredibly special and profound. Your words have touched him in a way that nothing else ever has. It's a feeling of euphoria, knowing that the person he cares about so deeply shares those same sentiments.

However, beneath this elation, he also senses the subtle undercurrent of fear and hesitation in you. It's completely understandable after so many years of being apart. The prospect of starting a new chapter, especially one as significant as a romantic relationship, can indeed be daunting. Seonghwa empathises with your feelings entirely.

Yet, despite the uncertainty and the challenges that lie ahead, he can't help but yearn for your affection and the chance to call you his own. The connection you share, one that has spanned years and endured the test of time, is something he cherishes deeply.

In Seonghwa's chest, his heart beats with a mixture of excitement and patience. He knows that these things take time, and he's willing to take it one step at a time with you, ensuring that you both feel comfortable and secure in whatever path you choose to explore. For now, he's content with the knowledge that the feelings are mutual, and he's looking forward to seeing where this newfound chapter of your connection will lead.

Seonghwa instinctively reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring, yet as you remember the confession once more, the action of affection makes your reaction extreme, your cheeks heating up, your heart racing faster than usual.

"We don't have to figure it all out right now," he says gently. "Let's take our time. We'll figure it out together."

“It’s just… I’m still trying to process that you guys are still alive, now I have something else to think about, it all seems too much.”

Seonghwa continues to listen to you and he can almost feel the waves of unease radiating from your very being. It's a raw and vulnerable moment, and he wishes deeply that he could find a way to ease the emotional storm surging behind your eyes.

Unconsciously, his fingers begin to play with yours tenderly. It's a small, comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's present, and he's ready to support you in whatever way you need.

At this moment, Seonghwa isn't focused on any hurry or pressure to define your relationship. Instead, he's fully attuned to your emotions, your concerns, and your hesitations. He knows that sometimes, the most valuable thing he can offer is his patient understanding and unwavering support.

“I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.” He finally speaks, his voice starting to break as he feels his throat tighten up, “I was so lost without you.”

The moment Seonghwa utters those words, you can hear the raw emotion in his voice, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. His admission that he was lost without you hits you deeply, and it's impossible not to feel the depth of his emotions. The warmth of your touch is a silent reassurance, letting him know that you understand that you've also carried your own share of longing and uncertainty.

"I'm here now," you say softly, your voice filled with understanding and compassion. "Sometimes life takes us on different paths, but we find our way back to the people who matter most."

Seonghwa's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. In this moment of shared vulnerability, you both find comfort in each other's presence, knowing that the past is behind you and the future is filled with possibility.

“Seonghwa,” You begin to call the man’s name, recognising the way he is starting to succumb to his emotions.

“There is not a single day that went by without us regretting leaving you. We just had to make sure it was safe for you before we came back.”

His heartfelt words pierce your heart, leaving your mind a mess.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. I won’t leave you, any of you.”

In the hushed stillness of the room, you raise the hand that was resting underneath his, to delicately caress Seonghwa's cheek, cupping it tenderly. Your touch is gentle, like a soothing relief to his heartache. With a soft stroke of your thumb, you wipe away the tears cascading down his beautiful face, a gesture of comfort that speaks volumes.

When you reach your other hand to cup his entire face, the sensation sends shivers down his spine. The tenderness of your touch makes his heart race with a mixture of emotions. It feels like it has been an eternity since he felt the warmth of your hands on his skin, and in this moment, it feels like an unsaid accomplishment, a connection he had yearned for, an action he has only seen in his dreams, finally being a reality brings warmth to his entire soul.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes, but your presence, your touch, makes him feel seen and understood in a way he has never imagined, yet he no longer knows if the tears are from sorrow or pure happiness. It's as if the weight of his emotions can finally be shared, knowing that you are there to offer solace and support. In the quiet intimacy of this moment, he finds himself silently thanking fate for bringing him to your room tonight.

The world seems to fade away as Seonghwa places his hands gently on top of yours, his touch sending a rush of warmth through your entire being. In this tender moment, you become highly aware of the intimate proximity between the two of you. Your faces mere inches apart, and as you lock eyes with him, time seems to stand still.

Despite the urge to move away, your body seems to have a will of its own, keeping you locked in this position. It's as if the universe conspired to bring you together in this moment, and you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

The softness of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to hold a world of unspoken emotions, leaves you captivated. In this delicate embrace, you feel a sense of vulnerability, as if a barrier that once separated you has been lifted, allowing your hearts to commune in a profound and intimate way.

The air around you is charged with unspoken desires and untamed emotions. Your heart races, torn between the familiarity of friendship and the allure of something more. There is a soft tension in the air, like a dance between two souls on the precipice of a love that has been silently blooming.

Continuing to gaze into each other's eyes, the depth of your connection becomes undeniable. It's a moment of reckoning, where you know you must confront the feelings that have been swirling within you both. Yet, in this suspended moment, the fear of the unknown fades, replaced by serene acceptance of the present.

In this captivating scene, you allow yourself to be immersed in the depth of your emotions, knowing that there is also beauty in the uncertainty, in the uncharted territories of the heart. As you share this intimate space with Seonghwa, you feel a sense of wonder, a willingness to explore the unspoken desires that have led you to this enchanting moment.

As the air crackles with unspoken desires, a gentle breeze seems to sweep through the room, carrying an air of anticipation. Neither of you can deny the magnetic pull drawing you closer, and in this intimate moment, you both surrender to the unspoken feelings that have been lingering between you.

“____,” Seonghwa calls your name softly, gazing deeply into your eyes, “I don’t know if I can live without you.”

Staying silent, you aren’t too sure how to respond, the heaviness of the confession making you too flustered to respond.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just needed you to know.”

Seonghwa's hands remain atop yours, his touch a comforting anchor as you lean in ever so slightly.

“Hwa.” You catch the man’s attention with the old nickname, making his heart race even quicker in his chest. Feeling confident, you slowly start to close the gap between your lips, until they are just a breath away from each other.

“Can I…” Seonghwa begins before taking a deep, nervous breath in, “kiss you?” Seonghwa whispers, centimetres away from your lips. It takes you less than a few seconds to reply, even though your heart is beating out of your chest, you gently accept.

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you close your eyes, savouring the tingling anticipation that courses through your veins.In this suspended moment, time ceases to exist as your lips finally meet in a tender kiss. It's a soft and hesitant exploration, as if both of you are testing the waters of this new intimacy. The touch of his lips against yours sends a quake of delight down your spine, igniting a warmth in your heart that you can't quite put into words. His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, testing the waters, seeing what you are comfortable with.

Instinctively your bodies draw closer, seeking relief in each other's embrace. The world outside fades away as you lose yourselves in the intoxicating taste of his plump lips. Finding yourself getting drunk off of the way his lips feel against yours, you hesitantly pull away, scared that you will fall in too deep, or make Seonghwa uncomfortable with the sudden rush of love and lust that you begin to feel.

Pulling away, your eyes meet once again with Seonghwa’s brown ones, and you are shocked by the sight. His usual round, soft eyes, now blown out and hooded, an indescribable emotion coursing through his veins.

Before you can utter a single word, you find yourself enveloped in Seonghwa's embrace, his strong arms securely wrapping around your waist as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs settle on either side of his body, the soft carpet cushioning your knees as your chest presses flat against his. The closeness of your bodies sends a surge of electricity through you, and yet, there is an overwhelming sense of comfort in this intimate position.

Gazing into Seonghwa's eyes, you see a mix of desire, lust and tenderness reflected in his gaze. He's careful to gauge your reaction, making sure you are comfortable with this new closeness. Without hesitation, you offer him a reassuring smile, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

When his lips find yours once more, and this time the kiss is less gentle, Seonghwa’s tongue poking at the entrance of your mouth, and you feel an unspoken longing and passion. It's a connection that feels natural and familiar, as if your souls have been searching for this closeness all along. The way his warm lips caress yours is powerful, and you find yourself melting into the embrace, savouring the sensation of being so close to him. The kiss becomes messy as you allow his tongue to enter your mouth, dancing together as you press your body closely against his. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck, tilting your head to further deepen the intense kiss.

Seonghwa's arms encircle you, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. The world around you seems to fade away, and all that matters is the intimacy of this moment and the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours, the way his touch makes you feel cherished, adored, and hot, so hot.

As the kiss deepens, the boundaries between friendship and something more blur, and you realise that this is a connection that goes beyond labels and definitions. It's a love that defies explanation, a bond that has been quietly growing between you for years.

Seonghwa's touch ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself craving more of his affection, his warmth, his love. It's a feeling that is both thrilling and comforting, like coming home to the one person who understands you in a way no one else can.

His arms begin to rub up and down your back, gently passing underneath your night shirt and landing on your bare hips, gently caressing the bare skin. The warmth of his hands causes a small gasp to emit from your throat, jolting you slightly, making your hips rub gently against Seonghwa’s crotch.

“Fuck, angel.” Seonghwa's low groan reverberates through both of you, the sudden nickname sending shivers down your spine, straight to your core. The way he pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms, still underneath your shirt, tightly around your waist, creates an intoxicating sensation that leaves you breathless. Your skin pressed against his feels like a perfect fit, as if you were always meant to be in this embrace. The raw intimacy of the moment leaves both of you feeling lost in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

Seonghwa pulls away from your lips, and you are about to protest, yet the complaints die in your throat as his lips trail to the curve of your neck causing your heart to race, your senses heightened by every touch. He peppers small kisses down the curve of your neck, gently nibbling on the flesh.

The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists is you and Seonghwa. His hands explore the contours of your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of his desires. Every caress and every whisper of his breath against your skin ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself surrendering to the passion that courses through your veins.

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, your voice almost getting caught in your throat.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa mutters against the skin of your neck.

Unconsciously, the nickname causes you to move your hips against the males, desperately wanting a reaction from him. The deep groan that reverberates from his throat leaves you both satisfied and craving for more simultaneously.

“___,” Seonghwa stutters out, the sudden boldness of your movements leaving his head spinning, “we should stop,”

Pulling away slowly, you give him a worried look, hoping dreadfully you haven't crossed a boundary. Seonghwa gently chuckles at the cute look on your face.

Pinching your cheek softly, he speaks again, “we just started, I want to take my time with you.”

Seonghwa's statement washes over you like a gentle wave, stirring up a delightful mix of excitement and nervousness that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Without hesitation, he draws you close once more, enveloping you in a comforting embrace that radiates warmth and affection. As you rest your head in the crook of his neck, you find yourself basking in the tender intimacy of the moment, cherishing the precious connection you share.

“You should get to sleep, we are going shopping early tomorrow.” Seonghwa’s deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Are we going shopping?” You question, feeling a sudden rush of sleepiness overcoming your senses.

Nuzzling your head even closer into the crook of Seonghwa's neck, you sense the gentle thump of his heart escalating, mirroring the accelerated rhythm of your own. Although you can’t see it, Seonghwa’s cheeks are a blazing hot shade of red as he tries to calm himself from going further. He realises that pushing you to do something when you're already confused is not the right option. As much as Seonghwa wishes to take you, claim you right here, like he has been dreaming for years, he waits patiently, not wanting to overwhelm you. The lingering effect of the shared kiss intensifies the moment, making it all the more electrifying and unforgettable.

"Let's get you to bed, angel," Seonghwa whispers tenderly, his hold around your waist tightening as he firmly presses your body against his own, lifting you both effortlessly from the floor. Your legs instinctively coil around his waist, and as he carries you towards the bed, the red blush intensifies on Seonghwa's cheeks, his heart racing with every step. The intimate closeness and the warmth of the moment leave him adorably flustered, but his focus remains on ensuring your comfort and care.

Tucking you in the blankets, he sits by the side of your bed, watching your weary form with a violent blush and a wide smile covering his entire face.

"Goodnight, Seonghwa," you mumble softly, settling into the cosy embrace of your pillow. Witnessing your endearing gesture, Seonghwa feels his heart swell with affection, amazed at how he could fall even deeper for you, a feeling he once thought was impossible. As he watches over you, he can't help but feel grateful for the precious moments shared and the special connection that continues to grow between the two of you. With a gentle smile, he lingers for a moment, savouring the sight of you before finally whispering his own goodnight, his heart full of fondness and admiration. Departing from your bedroom with a satisfied smile on his face, Seonghwa heads straight for his bathroom, desperately needing a cold shower to calm his thoughts of you situated in his lap, looking so pretty. He definitely needs to clear those thoughts before he finds himself running back to your bedroom.

----

The soft morning light gently filters through the curtains, causing you stir from your slumber, a warm and blissful feeling spreading through your entire being. You can't help but smile as the memory of the tender kiss you shared with Seonghwa last night floods your mind, filling you with a sense of giddiness and butterflies in your stomach. The way his lips touched yours lingers in your thoughts, leaving you feeling loved and cherished.

With a contented sigh, you stretch your limbs beneath the soft sheets and sit up, the room enveloped in a soft glow that seems to match the radiance in your heart. You can't wait to see your roommates, to share the joy of this morning with them and bask in the warmth of their presence.

Getting up from your bed, the floor feels cool against your feet, contrasting with the warmth in your heart. You take your time getting ready, savouring each moment as you brush your hair and wash your face. There's an air of excitement and anticipation building within you, eager to embrace the day ahead and the company of your dear roommates.

Making your way to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast fills the air, and your senses are treated to a delightful feast. To your delight, all eight of your friends are gathered at the counter, and you can't help but notice that they all look particularly handsome today, their smiles radiant and welcoming. You aren't sure if it is because of their confession yesterday, or if they always look this good, but something has changed. The sight of them all waiting for you warms your heart, and you feel a mix of gratitude and affection for each member of the group. It's a feeling of belonging and togetherness that washes over you, reinforcing the deep bond you share with them.

Unconsciously, you gravitate towards Seonghwa, the events of last night still at the front of your mind, who beams at your approach with that charming smile that has a way of melting your heart. His eyes light up when he sees you, and the affection in his gaze makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

When you get close to him, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, causing a small yelp of surprise to leave your mouth, the action catching you off guard making you feel awfully warm in the face.

What surprises you is that neither of the seven men around you even flinch, though they send a questioning look to Seonghwa who just gently shrugs, an amused, smug expression gracing his features as he holds you close to him, addicted to the way your body feels against him.

Unbeknownst to you, yesterday night was very difficult for Seonghwa. In the quiet hours after your time together, his thoughts were consumed by an intense longing. The memory of your closeness lingered, and his yearning for the touch of your body against his became almost overwhelming. Throughout the night, a compelling desire took hold of him, urging him to find any possible way to feel your presence once more.

He found himself on the brink of leaving his own room multiple times, his heart urging him to seek the physical connection he so deeply carved from you. Each time, he would pull back, reminding himself of the boundaries and the need to respect your space. It was a struggle that played out repeatedly throughout the night, a battle between his longing and his determination to be patient and considerate. Yet now you are here, with your consent, he doesn't feel the need to hold back, wanting to touch you in any way possible.

When you take your seat at the counter, you can't help but notice a bowl of your favourite breakfast waiting for you, a thoughtful gesture from Wooyoung that fills you with warmth. The gesture speaks volumes of the care and consideration your friends have for you, and you feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such loving and attentive individuals.

“I hope it tastes nice.” Wooyoung says, a shy tone to his voice that has you surprised, wondering where his usual flirty, playful self is.

"I'm sure it's lovely, Woo," you reply with a playful tone, using the endearing nickname that sends delightful shivers cascading down Wooyoung's spine. The affectionate term fills his chest with pride and joy, revelling in the fact that you chose a cute name to address him. The sweet exchange between the two of you leaves Wooyoung with a heartwarming sense of happiness and admiration for you.

Munching away on the food, you allow yourself to completely relax as the flavours of the food warm and caress your tongue.

"Are you coming to the mall with us today?" Yeosang is situated on the other side of you and asks in a hushed tone, his eyes filled with hope as he awaits your response. Meanwhile, the other seven members are deeply engrossed in a somewhat serious yet lighthearted debate about whether butts are considered as two or one. Despite their lively discussion, Yeosang remains focused on your answer, eager for you to join them on the outing.

"Yes, I think so. I desperately need some new clothes," you reply with a smile, feeling the warmth of Yeosang’s undivided attention as he turns his entire body towards you, clearly focused on your words. The genuine interest he shows in your plans for the day brings a sense of connection, making you even more eager to spend time with the group. Excitement builds as you look forward to the fun outing with your friends, hoping it will be a memorable day spent together.

Yet something suddenly nags at your mind, causing you to feel a little vulnerable. “Aren't you worried about being seen with me in public? I don't think people would be happy with me being around you.”

“We don't care what people think, you are one of us.” he says, his tone soft as he peers at your flustered reaction, a smile graces his face.

You feel a rush of flustered emotions as you notice Yeosang's gaze lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. The memory of the kiss shared with Seonghwa last night briefly crosses your mind, sparking curiosity about what it might be like to kiss the others. However, you quickly push those thoughts away, not wanting to get carried away and get your hopes up too high.

Yeosang, seemingly pleased with your reaction, gently smirks before turning back to the group. Little does he know, his actions have left you feeling even more flustered. As you watch him, you can't help but wonder how he might flirt with you and what that could lead to. The possibility of such interactions excites you, but you also remind yourself to be cautious and not read too much into it.

In his own silent moment, Yeosang decides to take some pointers from Wooyoung on flirting, hoping to make you smile and blush like this forever. The prospect of seeing your cute flustered face becomes a delightful goal, one he can't wait to achieve.

----

The late morning sun casts a golden glow on the bustling streets as you and your roommates step out of the white house. Due to the large shopping mall being a short walk away, the nine of you decide to walk there to enjoy the warm sun, the excitement in the air is palpable. You had mentioned that you needed some new clothes, and the eight men were more than eager to join you on this shopping adventure.

Walking to the mall turned out to be quite the amusing experience. As the group strolled along, you found yourself at the back, flanked by Wooyoung and San, who adamantly refused to let anyone else take their spot next to you. Their sweet insistence brought a warm blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by their attention.

Seonghwa and Mingi, not ones to back down easily, bickered with Wooyoung and San, each vying for the chance to be by your side during the walk there. The friendly competition for your company added a playful dynamic to the group, and even Hongjoong couldn't resist getting involved, trying to mediate the situation.

In the end, Hongjoong managed to calm the playful dispute, promising Seonghwa, Mingi, and the others that they could take turns to walk with you on the way back home. Although the rest of the group may have been sulking slightly at not being able to be next to you now, they all understood the importance of sharing the time with you and were happy to have their chance later.

Arriving at the grand entrance of the shopping mall, your eyes widen in awe. The place is massive, with countless stores, boutiques, and displays that promise a shopping experience like no other. You are not able to contain your excitement and feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Strolling through the mall, the group seems to split into smaller clusters, each one of your roommates offering to accompany you to different sections based on your fashion preferences.

“Are you guys sure you don't need anything?” You question for the third time as they refuse to look in any shop that you walk past.

Upon hearing a chorus of playful "no's" filling the air, you can't help but roll your eyes with a mixture of amusement and affection. Their stubbornness to stay by your side, despite knowing it makes your heart race, only serves to make you appreciate their care and attention even more. It's endearing to see how much they value being with you, and while their determination might fluster you, it also warms your heart to know how cherished you are within the group.

When you reach a particular clothing store, which you usually shop at, you are happy to see they have sales on a lot of clothes. Making your way in, you giggle at the way the eight aimlessly follow you in. They disperse slightly, looking at many different clothing racks, searching for something that would suit you, or something they would like to see you wearing.

Wandering through the racks of clothes, you notice Wooyoung seems particularly focused. He keeps scanning the dresses with a determined expression, occasionally pulling one off the rack to examine it closely. It's clear that he's on a mission, and you can't help but wonder what he's up to.

"Hey, Wooyoung, find anything interesting?" you question, curious about his intent.

Wooyoung turns to you with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, just looking for something special," he replies cryptically.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his mysterious response. The boys exchange knowing glances, clearly in on whatever plan Wooyoung has hatched. It seems as if they have a small mission in their minds.

A little while later, Wooyoung finally emerges from the racks of dresses, triumphantly holding one up for you to see. "Look! This would look stunning on you," Wooyoung, exclaims, holding up a beautiful black dress that caught his eye. It definitely isn't your style, so you wonder as to why he would ask you to try it on.

You examine the short, form-fitting dress that Wooyoung kindly offered, you realise it's not your usual style, and you feel hesitant about trying it on, especially since it's on the sexier side and not something you'd typically wear. Before you can politely decline, San appears at your side, expressing his agreement with Wooyoung's suggestion. He wraps an arm around your shoulder in a tender gesture, encouraging you to give it a try while also assuring you that it's entirely your choice.

Touched by their compliments and support, you gently accept the dress, feeling grateful for their thoughtfulness. With a slightly doubtful smile, you make your way to the changing room, and to your surprise, you notice that all of them follow you eagerly, clearly invested in how you'll look in the dress.

“Guys you don't all need to come.” You exclaim, chuckling at their eagerness, “it’s just a dress.”

“We have never seen you in a dress before,” Mingi replies, an adorable pout on his face, the others agreeing with him. Chuckling again, you turn around to walk into the changing room. Inside the changing room, you slip into the dress, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You realise this must've been their plan and you chuckle to yourself at the thought of them conspiring for this very moment. It gives you a boost of confidence knowing they are eager to see you dressed up nicely.

Standing in the changing room, you find yourself struggling to reach the zipper on the back of the dress, you let out a small groan of frustration. You contemplate taking the dress off and giving up on the idea of trying it on. However, in that moment, a mischievous idea crosses your mind, and a playful smirk appears on your face.

Deciding to have a little fun with the situation, you poke your head out of the changing room, leaving the zipper undone deliberately and you see eight faces waiting patiently.

You gently call out to the men outside, "Hey, I might need a little help here."

San, Wooyoung, and the others glance your way, and their eyes widen when they notice your insinuations. Instantly, they catch on to your playful game, and a mischievous glint appears in their eyes as well.

Wooyoung quickly volunteers, stepping forward with a grin, "I'll help!"

The others slightly grumble, falling back into their seats as you allow Wooyoung to make his way into the changing room, where you hold up the dress with your arms. Noticing the way Wooyoung's eyes are chasing your form up and down, you feel a surge of confidence rush through your body. Maybe trying on this dress wasn't such a bad idea after all.

With a teasing smile, you turn around, allowing Wooyoung to reach for the zipper. As his fingers brush against your bare back while he gently pulls up the zipper, a shiver runs down your spine, and you can't help but exchange a knowing look with him through the mirror. When his eyes meet yours, you notice the dark look coating his eyes, making your knees feel weak.

“How does it look?” You whisper, suddenly feeling a little insecure at how tight the dress is.

Wooyoung's fingers glide slowly from the zipper of the dress to your hips, where he gently pulls you closer against his body, his chest now pressed against your back. The proximity between you two sends a shiver through your body, and your heart races with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

His hands gently massage your hips, and Wooyoung can't help but revel in the sensation of your touch against his skin. The way your bodies fit together creates a warm and intimate connection that has him feeling drunk off of your touch. He suddenly feels immensely grateful that you trusted him to come into the dressing room, along with letting him see you in the dress first.

“It looks amazing,” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe, he continues, “You’d look better without it.” His words cause another shiver to ripple through your body, the insinuations of his words has your head spinning.

“Wooyoung, behave.” Hongjoong’s authoritative voice sounds from behind the curtain of the dressing room and you realise that the seven on the other side must have heard what Wooyoung uttered.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Wooyoung reluctantly moves away from your body, grumbling under his breath. Once the curtain opens, you turn around to face the group, playfully twirling in the dress, feeling a newfound confidence and excitement.

Emerging from the fitting room, you're greeted by a symphony of reactions from your roommates. Mingi and Seonghwa’s expressions border on awe, their mouths hanging slightly agape as they drink in the way the dress contours your figure. Yeosang and Jongho, aware of their own reactions, quickly avert their gaze, trying to avoid any obvious signs of their appreciation for the dress on you.

Yunho and San's widened eyes trace your silhouette, an unspoken admiration evident in their glances. They want you to feel comfortable but can't help conveying how striking you look, their stare piercing you. Hongjoong, known for his unreadable demeanour, studies you intently, his features carefully neutral. When your curious gaze meets his, he raises an eyebrow in a challenge, his lips curling into a smirk as he openly checks you out.

In a playful move, you send a teasing wink his way, a side of you he rarely witnesses. The effect is immediate, causing a noticeable flush to creep up Hongjoong's cheeks. His eyes widen slightly in surprise at your flirtatious gesture, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Your unexpected action has triggered a shift in his usually composed demeanour, stirring a rush of thoughts and feelings that he's unaccustomed to.

The contrast between your usual innocence and this unexpected flirtation leaves Hongjoong's heart racing and his mind aflutter with indecent notions. Your playfulness has caught him off guard, and it's evident in the way his cheeks continue to heat up. The dynamic between you two has shifted momentarily, and the lingering effects of your flirtatious exchange are bound to make the day even more interesting.

"You look stunning!" Mingi exclaims, his eyes bright with admiration.

"You were right. This dress is perfect for her," San chimed in, his eyes not leaving the dress hugging your body.

“I’ll go pay for it,” Hongjoong says, getting off the chair he was comfortably resting in.

“What? No, I'll pay.” You insist, trying to chase after Hongjoong, who just sends you a sweet smile before heading towards the exit of the fitting rooms.

“Bring it to me when it's off, love.” he says before turning away to walk off, yet he stops and quickly turns around to meet your eyes again, swiftly he looks you up and down, before smiling again, “you look beautiful.”

Once again, Hongjoong moves to the exit, some of the others following him, not before glancing at you one more time, to make sure the image of you in the dress stays in their minds. You attempt to follow him, not wanting him to pay for something like this. Yet, Wooyoung, who is still in the changing room, swiftly grabs your hand, gently pulling you back into the cubicle.

“He likes to pay for things, it’s how he shows his affection, amongst other ways…” Woooyoung trails off and you can’t help but wonder what he is implying, “now, do you need help taking it off too?”

“Wooyoung.” It is San whose voice sounds this time, causing Wooyoung to playfully roll his eyes.

It's just this dress, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes diligently observes your every gesture from across the expanse of the clothing store. A faint scowl adorns their features as they take in the scene playing out before them. Arched eyebrows frame their intent gaze, as they persist in their scrutiny, trying to think of where they've encountered you in the past. Curiously, the sight of your seemingly contented presence among the group of eight men evokes an unease within them. Finally they have found Ateez, yet they are extremely unaware as to who you are.

As the day wears on, you notice that your friends seem to be going out of their way to impress you. They help you find the perfect clothes, hold doors open for you, and even sneak in small gestures of affection, like stealing glances or offering gentle touches on your arm. Seonghwa skillfully manoeuvres his arm around your waist as the two of you walk side by side, gently tugging you closer to his side. His touch creates a sense of intimacy. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he conveys a silent closeness, a shared moment of connection that transcends words. The warmth of his body against yours and the weight of his chin on your shoulder create a comforting sensation.

"Wait, this sweater looks so cosy. You have to try it on!" Jongho insisted, handing you a soft, knitted sweater that looked like it would be perfect for chilly evenings.

"And these shoes! They would go perfectly with that dress you tried earlier," Yunho adds, bringing over a pair of elegant black shoes.

Continuing the shopping spree at the large mall, you can’t help but be flattered by their attention and affection. Every time you pause to admire an item for a little too long, one of the eight men would quickly grab it off the rack, insisting on buying it for you. It was both endearing and overwhelming to see their determination to spoil you with gifts, no matter how hard you try to protest.

Trying on each item, you can't help but marvel at how well your roommates know your style and preferences. Their attention to detail and the effort they put into finding clothes that suit your taste makes your heart swell with gratitude.

The more the shopping bags pile up, the more you protest, telling them that they do not need to buy everything you like. Alas, your roommates are insistent, assuring you that they want to spoil you and show their appreciation for your presence in their lives.

During a quick break at a coffee shop, you find yourself sitting next to Yunho, who has been rather quiet this entire trip, it seems as if there is something on his mind, bothering him. When you look over to him, you notice he is peering at you with a fond expression. He takes a deep breath, as if he is gathering the courage to say something important, the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of red.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that... I really care about you," he begins, his voice hushed, soft and earnest , the traces of nervousness evident in his tone. The abrupt confession momentarily leaves you in a state of astonishment, as the unexpected display of affection from him causes your heart to quicken its pace.

Throughout the day, you've been consistently taken aback by the sudden surge of affection from every man. Normally, the casual slight flirting is something you’ve become accustomed to, but now it has escalated to an intense level, and the realisation that there are deeper emotions beneath their words leaves you feeling light-headed and in a perpetual state of fluster.

"Later, can we talk, one on one, just us two? You deserve an apology and an explanation for my behaviour." Yunho continues.

“I’d love that Yunho.” You smile at the man, who looks exactly like a puppy as his eyes light up with happiness.

His confession leaves your heart pounding in your chest, and before Yunho can respond, Jongho approaches the two of you with a smile on his face. "Don't forget about me," he says playfully, though there is a hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I feel the same way. You're truly special to all of us."

Their sincere words have a profound effect on you, causing a rush of warmth to spread throughout your being. The honesty in their expressions and the depth of their feelings touch you deeply, leaving you unable to hide the telltale signs of your emotions. Your cheeks flush with a gentle heat, the emotions swirling within you.

When the day draws to a close, you leave the mall with bags filled with new clothes and hearts full of cherished memories. Realising that you are indeed fortunate to have such incredible people in your life who love you so deeply.

Making your way home, arms laden with shopping bags, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. The affectionate gestures of your roommates have touched you deeply, and you know that you are truly surrounded by people who care for you. In the end, it wasn't just about the clothes or the gifts; it was about the love and warmth that flowed between you. Settling back into the house, you can’t help but smile as you look around at your roommates, each one beaming with happiness.

“I am going to put all this stuff away,” you exclaim, announcing your short departure.

"Hey, just so you know, dinner will be ready in about an hour or two," Yunho calls out to you as you busily move the numerous bags into your room. With a quick thumbs-up in his direction, you respond in a light-hearted manner, before disappearing behind your closed bedroom door. Your actions prompt a soft chuckle from him, finding your response quite endearing and cute.

Alone in the quiet of your room, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady the rising tide of anxiety that threatens to engulf you. Today had been a day unlike any other, filled with warmth that had, for a fleeting moment, lifted your spirits. The kindness and affection of the boys had been a balm to your soul, enveloping you in a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a while.

Reflecting on the day's events, you're struck by a poignant realisation – it was indeed one of the best days you've had in a long time. Laughter, shared moments, and the genuine care of your roommates were woven together to create memories that you'll treasure. And yet, despite the joy that had enveloped you, a shadow of apprehension had loomed over the day, casting a veil of unease over your experience.

The sensation of being watched, the lingering feeling that someone was trailing your every move, had been a constant presence in the back of your mind. It had woven its way into the fabric of your day, colouring even the happiest moments with a sense of discomfort. The weight of someone's presence, real or imagined, clung to you like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off.

Her face was everywhere and the worst thing is, you feel like you’ve seen it before.

---

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su

@theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp @liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @itsmeregan @rynmlk @kazuhateez @galaxypox @chermonroe @babyhailey819 @euphoricdeni @wooya1224 @matzbear @h-nji @tunaasan @send-me-places @llynx7 @solstramaii @mlink64 @purple-bell @punkhazardlaw @meljoongiee @solstramaii @vixensss @notevenheretbh1 @imsodazed @sunasbitch2-0 @tigerliliexists @icouldntcareless22 @grim-adventures58

if you asked to be tagged and do not see your name it is because you cannot be tagged. I am not ignoring you/haven't seen your request. I apologise for the inconvience.

416 notes · View notes

zepskies · 9 months

Text

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.”

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together:

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.”

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest.

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could.

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied.

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?”

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to.

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well. With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through.

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years.

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you.

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

“Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.”

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door.

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this.

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you.

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning.

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building.

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms.

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked.

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head.

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you.

“I said enough,” he snapped.

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?”

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said.

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before.

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth.

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her.

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team.

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world.

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.”

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm.

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone.

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile.

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said.

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair.

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory.

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them.

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it.

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself.

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.”

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother.

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there.

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened.

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.”

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.”

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him.

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone.

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now.

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said.

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow.

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.”

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Buuut…?”

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips.

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—”

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze.

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke...

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

#The Epilogue #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 18 #zepskies writes

615 notes · View notes

arandomdai · 3 months

Text

Persephone Lost Herself To Marriage

⚠️ Warning: I'm just saying my opinions (and theories) like everyone else. So put your tin foil hats on, it's going to be a LONG read. Enjoy!!!⚠️

• The Realization

This was/is a cry for help. She's finally admitted something that we (some of us) already noticed. The fact that she's so worried about her blue corpse of a man's feelings, while in denial about killing hundreds if not thousands of mortals in seconds...is nasty work. Like okay you don't know yourself, good we are getting somewhere. But are you willing to change your ways like finally admitting that your Mom was right, Minthe was right (about you and your man), Zeus was right (where he says they didn't know each other long), finally realize your selfish and a murderer, etc. Like I wanna see the change, not this boohoo act. And speaking of Demeter, she is a little bit at fault for why Persephone acts like this. If she would've told her about being a FG, teach her how to defend herself, help her control her powers or help make her own decisions, none of this wouldn't happen. Now Persephone (this her own fault here)is trapped with guilt, a blu gru, and a whole population of shades coming in. Once this is over, I pray to God that she wakes up, and leave that man, live in the mortal realm, and hopefully come to terms/works on herself to know who she is because her being a Queen is not one of them.

•Hades Is Her Downfall

This man never loved her. He wanted to sleep with her knowing he had a girlfriend (Minthe at the time) and when she was only 19 years old !!!(smdh 🤢😒), somehow he shows up in her nightmare saying, "I Know That I Can Smell Your Ambitions As They Rot At Your Feet.", he didn't let Persephone tell him what happened, lies about everything, disrespects Demeter, never gave Thanatos a real apology, never actually going to therapy, etc, need I say more? This man genuinely hates powerful women. He sabotaged Demeter's right to rule the mortal realm, gets angry when women stand up for themselves, preys on the vulnerable and young, dangles money over them, had an affair with Hera behind his brothers back, etc, and Persephone still thinks he's husband material... chile. Like how come she doesn't see those horrible qualities and notice that he brings out the worst in her? Real men don't treat women like this. To be fair, that first genocide she caused was all her fault, like yes they were playing in her face, but she didn't need to start killing people. But you know what she did, she was willing to help the shades get into the Underworld (and he was mad about that 😒). Now we're on to our second genocide, and this man was the cause of this as well (mostly her fault but still). The fact he said "I can't stop her from trying." Like yes you can Blunocchio 🙄. I'm so tired of him, and his evil ways. Persephone really needs to understand that man was never in her corner, and if he was, he would've left her alone from the very beginning. The lesson is don't EVER let a man be your downfall and try to make you feel powerless. If he can't take how powerful you are, he was never the one and he's an insecure a**hole.

• There Was Always Someone

Hydros tried to warn Gaia

People thought Rhea was stupid for loving Kronos

Probably someone close to the Missing Goddess tried to warn her

Demeter warned Persephone

Do we see the pattern? Constantly losing yourself in love with abusive men, getting your powers drained because they wanted to prove that they were worth loving, and trying to prove the haters wrong (looking at you author)? Well, yes. Persephone had her twenties to look forward to (school, TOGEM, and starting her future), but made a man child the #1 priority. Had her thirties (self reflection, getting her shit together, realize she can do bad by herself.), but still managed to keep him in the #1 priority slot, instead of her and her own mother. Like does she not get that her mom is her real best friend? These fertility goddesses (excluding Metis 🤢) wish that they would've listened to those people/or families, and saw from their point of view that their men weren't no good, and go from there. Like did Persephone ever think about what Zeus told her ( his back story about what happened to Rhea), nope. Just ignored it because she never listens, and loves finding out the hard way 🙄😒. If the author wanted a real ('cause let's be honest, it's not) feminist retelling, she could've had Persephone look at the fertility goddesses differently, Seeing there struggles, learn that Demeter just didn't want to see her get hurt, and walk away from him (but in a perfect world I guess 🫤). Remember y'all there is always someone in your corner that is looking out for you and/or showing they love you.

• Persephone's Fate

Until she starts listening to the right people, know how to think for herself, and realize that man ain't crap, she's doomed. Years from now, she's going to be trapped in a marriage full of regrets and shattered dreams, sparkling and useless if you will. Hades will continue to use and abuse her. Hell, wouldn't be surprised if he started cheating on her like he cheated on Minthe. Also, wouldn't be shocked if she becomes the next Hera, after all she was just her stand in. Hades would take most of her powers, someone defeats him, and puts him in prison somewhere, she starts seeing him, and no one else can. Would that be something? I mean he was in her dreams telling her that her ambitions will rot. Also people wouldn't want to come around her, and she gotta live with that for the rest of her life. Demeter, lasion, and her son living life to the fullest, so who can she call? She is stuck in a tragic cautionary tale of a fertility goddess. Someone that wanted to prove the haters wrong, wanted to be worthy of loving, and a victim of a man's abuse and manipulations.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus criticism #it was hades all along #lore olympus critical #tin foil hats

325 notes · View notes

the-heart-of-leo · 2 months

Text

Nick's so far under the bus that they might as well change the oil while they're under there.

Okay, because I'm a bit of a masochist and I have adblockers...

I'm going to count how many times James throws Nick under the bus:

@2:40 – 'This fell upon Nick as well, as a non-binary person on the ace spectrum, they wanted to include asexuality and non-binary representation to our videos. But because Nick's experience is not universal – There is no universal experience – people felt that we were delegitimizing their own experiences because we focused on Nick's.' (The reason we were acephobic was because we (meaning Nick) didn't think other ace people had problems and when it was pointed out to us by The Ace Couple that ace people did, in fact, face discrimination and conversion therapy, we (meaning James) accused them of homophobia and sicced their followers on them.)

@6:38 – 'The work Nick and I were doing on the channel...' (Because Nick was here too! Not just me!)

@10:46 – 'I was much more interested in the production of the videos than the writing of them, at this point. So after three or four videos, I brought Nick on as a main writer for the channel. The idea is that they would write the vast majority of the scripts. I would film, voice, and edit the videos and we'd split the money that came in.'(Nick was the main writer for the channel! In case you forgot...)

@14:40 – 'And then my mom died... and I became completely useless. I couldn't think straight, at all, so Nick had to completely take over writing duties.'(DID I MENTION NICK WAS THE MAIN WRITER. ALSO MY MOM DIED; FEEL SORRY FOR ME)

@19:44 – 'When Nick got back, he believed the script needed a first page rework. This was also when he told me he was going to be moving back to Ontario permanently soon as he wanted to live closer to family and live in a bigger city with more opportunities. This was a punch to the gut for me. We'd been living together since 2015 and had become quite dependent on each other. I felt like there was no way I could make this movie without him.'(We couldn't make the movie we promised because SOMEONE DECIDED TO MOVE and since I'm co-dependent on him, I moved with him and screwed up everything. Oopsie.)

@26:32 – 'But by accepting as many sponsors as we did, which became very important when Nick and I started living apart and suddenly had two rents to pay, we ended up needing to produce even more videos. Which, along with the work on Telos and making sure everything was okay with my dad while living thousands of kilometers away meant I had even less time for writing – putting more stress on Nick and leading to even more copy and pasting from me.' (See what you did, Nick?! We have to pay TWO rents now and we need to make even MORE videos. I'm not creepily co-dependent on my asexual ex-roommate at all!)

@32:50 – 'I know what misinformation had made its way into our past videos. That was not something we intended; in some cases it was information I was told by people I considered experts. In other cases it was information that we had researched. In other cases it was things that Nick had learned in university.'(Nick told me some of this stuff! ((which is fair because NICK ADMITTED HE DOESN'T DO RESEARCH)) In other cases it was because I assumed I knew what happened because I'm the smartest person I know so of course Lesbians had it easier! I just forgot that Radcliffe Hall's books were banned and destroyed because of that head injury I talked about earlier.)

And here's an honorable mention where the smug “I'm smarter than you” BS comes to visit:

'To those who say I plagiarized the plot from the novel Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix – Read the book. It's nothing like the plot of the movie. And 'The Final Girl' is a trope in horror movies so if using the Final Girl trope is plagiarism then basically everyone who's made a slasher movie since Texas Chainsaw Massacre owes the Toby Hooper estate some money.'

So, much like how James doesn't understand why people aren't upset at him because of citation issues, he doesn't understand that it's not the fact that he's using the 'Final Girl' trope... it's the fact that he stated the book as a favorite of his and then... suddenly he's writing a movie about the aftermath of the Final Girl. And given the plagiarism, it can not be taken in good faith.

First off, if you just google 'First Final Girl', it just says Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of the earliest examples. Another possibility for the 'First Final Girl' was actually Black Christmas which was released the same day in Canada so it is literally tied.

Secondly; the final girl trope is not required for slasher movies. One of the first 'proto-slasher' movies was actually Psycho so there were a few good decades between that and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (I could try and make a case that Lila Crane should count as a Final Girl; maybe even Mrs. Bates/Norman as a subversion... but I'm not that invested or interested.)

So... James was true to form, he just wanted to be a smug asshat and try and seem smart over something easily googled.

#James Somerton #*Face palm*

178 notes · View notes

scintillyyy · 18 days

Text

the thing about why jack sending tim to boarding school is a sucky decision on his part is that. yes. tim, by nature of being a costumed vigilante is a truly unmanageable teen. there is no world where jack is ever given a fair chance to be a present and better dad in that the narrative necessitates that he needs to be kept in the dark and tim's secret will always be a wall between them. a lot of jack's decisions *in isolation* do make a bit of sense in that yea, tim has done something like run away from home like three times in recent memory so what else is jack to do but choose to send him to boarding school?

however, when looking at jack's behavior as a sum of it's parts, him choosing to send tim away to boarding school after NML is yet another patented "well, i've tried almost nothing else so it's time to go for the nuclear option" yet again. there is a *reason* that despite jack's clear love and pride in his son, the bat bible calls his interest in tim "perfunctory". it is because he notices tim's behavior only when it suits him. yea, he notices tim runs away and punishes him and moves heaven and earth to get him back safe, but he ignores or doesn't notice all the other injuries the vast majority of the times he's home. he generally doesn't try to talk to or connect with tim (outside of cry of the huntress) about what's going on or why tim is disappearing multiple times (he yells a bit and then assumes the problem is fixed, or is just happy to see he's okay and never tries to delve any deeper into the behavior). he talks big talk about getting to know tim again! and then immediately stops paying his son near as much attention once jack gets a girlfriend to spend time with instead. he comes home because tim's girlfriend's dad called him, but his initial response is to not even hear out his son's side of the story. when tim is at boarding school he *gets engaged* and only *calls* to tell tim after the fact, but he'll sure as hell actually show his face only when tim gets in trouble. there are lots of things you could do to try to connect with your kids before going down the last resort path (which sending kids away usually is). therapy. talking to them. (which i know wouldn't have worked, but the point is that jack *didn't try*). but jack's first thought when things get really tough is often to let *someone else* deal with his son for him.

tim lies to jack, but 90% of the time that suits jack just fine.

#jack drake #tim drake #also whenever i see ppl claim the ripping the tv out of the wall is overblown...#sigh i had a strict authoritarianish 90s dad. no. the tv thing was definitely well over the line.#listen jack drake is interesting to me. i am extremely interested in their relationship #tim was not perfect but.#stop acting like jack was this perfect present dad the point was he wasn't!!

135 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 11 months

Note

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

500 notes · View notes