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rrxnjun · 9 months

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

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crvptidgf · 7 months

Text

Teacher’s Pet

Mattheo Riddle x Reader (fluff)

➸ summary: after finally being reunited with her childhood friend, Enzo, the reader has to now build a friendship with his two cocky but well-meaning best friends

➸ warnings/notes: college!AU, snippet from a fanfic book i’m writing - it’s not posted yet but my wattpad is @/milksatin

word count: 1.7k

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THE DAY AFTER the choosing ceremony was a little anticlimactic.

It was our first day of classes, and everybody had gotten sorted into their designated houses last night. We of course already knew where we would be put - the ceremony was more of an introduction into first year than anything. It was customary to put on the sorting hat - kind of like a rite of passage, or an initiation.

We had done it in secondary school and we had done it again while moving onto our next phase in life. The next phase - which I had no idea what held in store for me.

At the beginning of summer we had chosen our preferred subjects, classes which we would be studying in detail as opposed to the general knowledge that we had learned the years prior.

My first of the day was potions; obviously.

Since the majority - or more like all - of my friends were in Gryffindor, I left the Slytherin common room alone. Walking past them in the Great Hall, I bid them a good morning before finding a seat at my appointed table.

"It's a pity that you can't sit with your friends," came Enzo's voice, his body sliding next to mine on the bench. I shrugged casually before digging into the plates before me.

"It's alright - I survived the last 3 years of school, how different can college be?"

His eyes held a certain sadness in them before he cleared his throat. I was glad to be talking to him again.

"Well you can always sit with me.”

I thanked him as I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth, muffling my gratitude. As much as I hated to admit it, I was really appreciative of him. It felt great to have someone to sit with.

"Oh yeah, such a shame that you can't sit with those gits," said Theo. I almost didn't even notice him and Mattheo arriving. They sat in front of me, ignoring Enzo's glare at Theo's words.

I had no problem dealing with assholes who thought they were better than everyone. After all, Harry and I had our fair share of arguments with Draco Malfoy. He had calmed down immensely, but before the war he was a handful. Theo needed less of an ego. Well, what's one more prideful Slytherin to kick down a notch?

"Leave off, Nott," said Enzo.

I simply ignored him as I dug into my breakfast. That day I made the note that Hogwarts breakfasts were a God send. I was almost completely full after not even half of the plate.

It was nice to talk to other Slytherins. It was nice to not be judged simply by the name of my house - and it was nice to not have to sit alone for once.

Although Theo was a bit judgmental of my friends, he was nice to talk to. It didn't last long, though. He began to complain about the Golden Trio - saying that they were too pretentious and up their own ass.

"Those are my friends you're talking about," I said. I tried to not let him get to me, but with each word that exited his foul mouth, my blood boiled one degree higher.

Theo just rolled his eyes as he continued eating.

Mattheo's gaze met mine over the table.

"What class do you have first?" he asked. I was glad for the change in topic, so I shook my hands out under the table to get rid of my tension. I sighed as I responded.

"Potions. Why?"

"Me too. I'll walk with you," he said as he grabbed his bag off the floor and stood up. We still had a few minutes left of breakfast, but since I was already finished eating, I agreed. And anyway, I didn't want to be around Nott any longer than I had to be.

Leaving the hall, I breathed a sigh of relief, not even realizing that I was holding it in.

"Sorry about him," said Mattheo. "He's kind of a dick sometimes."

I scoffed.

"Yeah that's one way of putting it."

Mattheo stopped walking as he stood to face me. His hands were in the pockets of his blazer, letting his bag hand loosely off his left shoulder.

"He can be like that sometimes, but he's really nice once you get to know him."

I made a noise of disbelief as I crossed my arms over my chest. How good of a friend could a house supremacist be? Did he learn nothing from the years of war that raged on in the wizarding world? Did he not understand that the only way we even won was by working together and getting rid of the notion of blood superiority altogether?

Merlin, had he not heard the story of what happened to Enzo's parents?

"Don't think he'll be happy to know I'm a half-blood, I assume."

Mattheo's eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head down. He huffed as he ran a hand down his face.

"God, he's not a blood supremacist, Lilia. He just has too much pride in himself."

I nodded.

"That much I figured," I muttered as I began to walk again. Mattheo seemed nice, I just didn't want to hear him justify his friend's actions. I didn't care if he was nice. All I cared about was that he was talking down on my friends. People who I considered family.

Mattheo sped up a bit, jogging to catch up to me. His shoulder brushed mine as we trekked along the hallways, looking into classrooms to find the correct one.

"And for the record - I like your friends. Never really spoken to them, but Harry does seem nice," he said, breaking the silence.

"He is," I stated simply before stopping in front of the potions room.

It was down in the dungeons, the dark stone walls letting little heat enter in that particular section of the castle. It didn't help that it was underwater, either. My hands rubbed up and down my arms, my robe providing little warmth against the gusts of subtle wind.

Mattheo leaned against the wall beside the door, studying me.

My arms were still tightened across my chest, and my eyes avoided contact with his. Something about being alone with him felt different. Last night I had no issue looking directly at him, but in the silence of the dungeons, I felt more intimidated.

"I get it. You're protective of your friends, but they're not exactly saints either."

My eyes hesitantly lifted up, meeting his brown irises. What was that supposed to mean?

"How would you know?"

He sighed, looking down at his feet. "Let's just get inside. Class is about to start."

I was about to object, but as I saw more and more students marching across the hallways, I decided he was right. As if on cue, the bell rang to signify the start of lectures. I guess I'd have to pry him for answers at a later time.

I sighed as I sat down at a random desk, only to be surprised when Mattheo bumped against me. He adjusted himself on the stool as he dropped his bag down.

"You don't mind, right?"

Truthfully, I was a bit happy he sat next to me. It would be nice to have a friend as my partner. A lot of the class was full of Slytherins - and as I stated before, I didn't have many Slytherin friends.

"As long as you don't make me fail the class."

His face broke out into a smile as he sucked his teeth. He looked forward to the front of the class.

"I'm amazing at potions."

I felt doubt rise in my chest. I gave him a skeptical 'mhm', telling him that I'll believe it when I see it. He clearly took it as a challenge. The emotion behind his eyes changed as he stared me down, smirking.

My nerves grew as he continued to look at me even when Professor Snape entered the classroom, only breaking the eye contact when he began the roll call.

My heart thrummed against my ribcage. In the small amount of space that we had at our desk, our knees were brushing against each other. I would move away, but every few seconds I'd forget and my knee would bump against his again.

All I got in response was a bump back. We were practically playing footsie under the table, but with our knees.

Snape began to do theory and we opened our books to the first chapter. It was revision of the most common potion ingredients, including the basics - Wolfsbane, African Sea Salt, Bat Wings, and Asphodel. This was what I was good at. Amazing even. What I didn't expect was for Mattheo to be just as good.

"What can act as an antidote for most poisons, with the exception of Basilisk venom," came Snape's monotonous voice.

My hand sprung up in the air, but Mattheo beat me to it.

"Yes, Mr.Riddle?"

"Bezoar."

'Suck up,' I thought. It was slightly hypocritical of me to think that, but my pride got the best of me. Especially when people were just as good at something as I was.

"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin."

I huffed in annoyance as my hand went back down, continuing to take down notes. I felt a nudge next to me only to see a piece of paper slide towards me.

'ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ? ᴍᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ?'

Rolling my eyes, I shoved the page back to him. I muttered under my breath at him.

"As if."

I could hear him chuckle from beside me as he crumpled the parchment up. His quill flickered around as he wrote notes down, a small smile still etched onto his face.

"What is a common ingredient used in a Wiggenweld Potion?"

I had heard the question, but upon seeing Mattheo's hand raise up yet again, my eyes drifted to him. I sent him a nasty look as I waited for Snape to call on him.

However, Snape called my name instead upon seeing me glare at Mattheo. My faze flickered away from him to look at the Professor. Ignoring the smug look on my potion partner's face, I responded.

"Billywing Sting Slime."

"...Correct. But next time, I'd appreciate you paying attention."

Mattheo snickered from beside me and I kicked his leg under the table, shutting him up immediately.

This was going to be a long year.

- - -

#harry potter fanfic #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp oneshot #hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #slytherin boys #slytherin reader #slytherin boys imagine #hp x reader

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months

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I'm having a Day

who wants to see my old apartment

this was the entry from the stairs that led up to our "first floor," on the second level of the building. the back staircase, yellow here with the sun, led to the third floor where the bedrooms were. those windows always stuck something fierce. we never had the lights on during sunny days if I could help it, but I didn't take this picture. I'd never before lived in an apartment that had radiators like that, with flowers in the cast iron; I loved them so much

it was such a good kitchen. everyone always said we had an amazing kitchen, when they visited. I wrote one of my fanfics on that squashy tan couch in front of a fan, on the hottest July day that year; a story that began and ended with a snowstorm. there's a photo of me lounging on it, wine-tipsy, in the Lucille robe and nightgown

the cabinets above and to the left of the stove survived the fire almost entirely. everything inside them was untouched, pristine, when the firemen opened the door to retrieve my antique teapot. I put it on a high shelf when I wasn't using it, so as not to stress out my housemates by having something fragile and irreplaceable on the counter or table

the breeze would always knock the toilet paper off the windowsill in summer when the windows were open, but we couldn't seem to fix the TP holder so it would stay put. that's my facial cleanser in the shower, the pump bottle. my bag of antique linen wash hiding my toothbrush on the little white shelf to the far right. I hung out with a housemate/friend in there while they dyed their hair once. I brushed my teeth in there on the mornings of my 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th birthdays. I spit blood into the sink you can't see, the night my gum graft stitches popped, not knowing we had less than a month to live there. the house as we knew it had less than a month to exist

I never took decent photos of my room. I regret that so deeply. this is how I last saw the place, though, in its proper form- what I saw After doesn't count. part of me will always be the Me that left that morning for work, eternally expecting to open that door and pass through those familiar rooms again

it was never supposed to be home forever, but it was home for those four years.

I just want to go home

#personal #fireblogging #the building is still there and they're remodeling it. someone will live there again. but it won't be Our Apartment #not really #not ever again

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lanitalay · 6 months

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Before I Say Goodnight

Introduction

Reader insert ACOTAR fanfic, pairing tbd

Premise: 21st century fem!reader gets transported to the world of ACOTAR after a freak incident.

warnings: none, maybe a lil angsty

A/n: Hello! This is my first fic and an idea I have been wanting to see portrayed for a while. As of now the pairing could literally be anyone but personally I am partial to Eris or Cassian. Let me know if there are any tropes you'd like to see. I wanna make this a fun space so enjoy!!

Other chapters

It was colder than you had expected it to be. The Highlands were known for being cold and rainy but since summer began you had half hoped half prayed for a warm sunny day. The skies were obstructed by heavy looking clouds. It would rain soon and the end of the hike was nowhere in sight. Maybe this is why people shouldn't travel alone, you thought as thunder roared from above. If I was with someone I'm sure they would have checked the weather. But this was why you'd flown half way across the world by yourself. "I want to get lost in new cities" you had said to your parents who never thought this was a good idea to begin with. "I want to explore the world" how hopeful you were when it was just an idea. Now though, now you had to find shelter unless you wanted to get soaked. "This is so not worth it" you grumbled to yourself while looking around for some type of cover. There hadn't been a trace of civilization for a few hours now and according to the map the lodge was still a few miles away. Groaning, you go off the path and into the thick forest hoping to find a tree, a cave, a cabin, anything that could protect you from the weather. You walk in a straight line, careful not to get lost. Lightning strikes and thunder rattles you as you start to increase your pace a bit. The forest is dark and the wind sounds like a voice telling you to run. Run. Run. You start to jog a little, constantly looking back to make sure the path is still visible. To your horror, thick fog has rolled in from the mountains making it impossible to see more that twenty feet in front of you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You hadn't prepared for this. Hiking was always something you enjoyed, but you had no real survival skills. Other than a bit of information gleaned from your grandparents' stories or survival reality shows. I should stay here. That was the logical thing to do, avoid getting even more lost, once the fog clears make your way back. But another gust of wind urged you. Run. Run. Run. You looked around but there was nothing, absolutely nothing there except the trees, the wind and the ever encroaching rain. Nothing, not even an animal, not even an insect. Fuck. With a jump you start running in the opposite direction of the path. Something is wrong. Something feels off and wrong and you need to get away. There's a clearing coming up and a bit of sun is slipping through the break in the forest canopy. You stop dead in your tracks as you take in what's in front of you. Boulders the size of refrigerators are lined up in what seemed to be a perfectly symmetrical circle. Chills climb up your back. You walk slowly towards it, careful not to touch anything. The space feels sacred here. As you get closer you see that there are smaller and smaller boulders until they become tiny little rocks lined up exactly the same. Sweat runs cold. They seem to circle around nothing. In the center is a small round patch of grass lined with small mushrooms. Run. Run. Run. You don't know where to go, being here feels wrong but there seems to be an invisible wall that won't let you run back to the forest. The only way out was through. You walked slowly, as if someone was surveilling you, waiting, hoping for you to mess up. Avoiding any branches or roots that might make you trip, you get to the patch of grass. Thunder roared all around you. It shook the whole forest and left a ringing in your ears. Stepping over the mushrooms you place you right foot first and then the left. Only the floor is gone and you're falling. Falling. Falling. There's an immense pressure all around you, it feels like you're being pushed by the darkness itself and you're falling.

Just as it started it's over.

Shaking, you try to take a breath. What the fuck just happened? It's the only thing you can think. You take another breath and look up from the ground you just fell on. It's the forest. You realize you are lying in the middle of the same clearing. Well, it looks like the forest except the boulders and rocks are gone, the space barren. I'm gonna throw up. Run. Run. Run. You try to get up and manage to stand on wobbly legs as you feel for any injuries from the fall. There's no blood anywhere and the only pain seems to be the growing headache from trying to grasp what's happening. Then you hear them. Steps. Someone or something is close. You take off running back to where the path should be not willing to risk getting attacked by an animal. You're panting as you run and you look back for a second to make sure no one is chasing you when you run straight into a tree and blackness takes over.

You wince as you open your eyes and feel the thumping pain coming from your forehead, you touch it and feel a lump forming. Great. The fire crackles beside you and you freeze. Looking to the side you are terrified in place as you see an ethereal looking man with long red hair and a scar down his face looking back at you. "Hello", his tone is bored. "Who are you and what are you doing in this court?" You open your mouth to answer but close it again as you look closer. His ears are pointed and his eye seems to be mechanical. I've got to be hallucinating. Uncertain, you answer "I'm y/n and I have no idea where I am or how I got here." Did I eat one of those mushrooms? This has to be the worst trip ever. You swallow and more quietly say "Am I in danger?" He pokes at the fire and says "I'm not going to hurt you, but this isn't a safe place for a human". "What's your name?" he sighs, like he's tired of answering that question.

"Lucien".

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #acosf #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #rhysand #reader insert #x reader #agnst #fanfic #fairy #fae #sjmaasuniverse

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your-not-invisible-to-me · 2 years

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Wax Strips (Matt Murdock x Reader)

A/N: This one shot was supposed to be a birthday present for @pastafossa, but in the time before and since their birthday I've gotten COVID, started a new job, and have been exhausted ever since. But, alas, it is finally written.

I haven't written fanfic in a long time. Please be kind.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary:

Matt prides himself on his memory until he forgets to take the trash out, causing you to learn a new secret.

Word Count: 1,825

Warnings for Chapter: mentions of toxic ex, insecurities, mentions of body hair/waxing

If there was one thing Matt Murdock was, it was precise.

He wouldn’t have survived this long without it. After everything he had been through with the accident, after everything he’d been through with Stick to lead to him becoming the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, who would he be if he wasn’t?

That included his memory. Especially when it came to you.

He remembered everything about the day you had come into his life. The way he picked up your heartbeat before you entered the building where the Nelson & Murdock office lay. You were old friends with Foggy, and had just moved back to the city.

He remembered the sound of your footsteps as they pressed against the floor, each beat making his heart pound faster as he wondered who they belonged to.

He remembered the smell of your perfume as it blew past his nose. Cherries and blossoms, like a fresh summer day brightening up the dark in his mind.

It was your voice, however, that would be sketched into his soul.

“And this is Matt Murdock, the second half of this esteemed establishment of course!” Foggy’s excitement about seeing his friend could be heard a mile away.

“Hello.” Sweet and shy. Beautiful. He knew he needed more.

“Hello,” said Matt. His voice was out like a whisper in the wind.

After a moment of silence that was just a moment too long, it was Foggy who groaned in annoyance.

“I’ll give each of you the other’s number later. Now come on, Matt has work to do and we have a lunch reservation.”

It took Matt another six months before he even dared to mention his secret, completely surprised when you didn’t turn him in, or even worse, turn and run away. It was another six months after that when you finally moved in with him.

But living together meant knowing everything- and there was one secret he wasn’t sure he was okay with you knowing yet.

He had thrown them away in the small trashcan he had kept in the bathroom that the two of you now shared. All of his supplies were tucked safely away.

That’s when he felt the fingers along his back, their soft pads wrapping around his stomach. It was then he felt your lips, soft kisses across his shoulder.

You had just gotten back from a week-long work trip and apparently weren’t too keen to see him up this early in the morning.

“It’s too early Matt, come back to bed.”

The kisses continued across his back before you slowly turned him around, chasing lips of his own. The way your tongue hit his lips, slowly opening him up to chase the feel of his mouth made a shiver go down his spine. He let you pull him back to bed.

He meant to throw the trash out of the bathroom, he really did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat at the end of Foggy’s couch, nursing the beer in your hand. You knew Foggy was trying to tell you a story, but your mind was elsewhere.

The sound of Matt leaving the apartment had long faded away when you finally convinced yourself to leave the safety of the warm covers. You padded into the bathroom, content to wash up and relieve yourself when you saw them bunched up in the trash.

Wax strips.

What was Matt doing with wax strips? You didn’t use them, that was for sure. Why would Matt? The pouring of thoughts started breaking through, and suddenly all you could do was wonder what had gone on in the apartment in the week you had been gone.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?”

“Considering I finished my story, and you’ve been silent, I can only assume your mind is somewhere else,” said Foggy.

“Sorry, Fogs, I just...”

“What is it?”

“Is Matt cheating on me?” you asked. The words were out before you could even blink.

“What? What in the world are you talking about?”

“I know you heard me, Foggy.”

“Which is why I’m concerned. Do you know how long I’ve known Matt? I’ve never seen him more in love than he is now. Why on earth would you think he’s cheating on you?” He took a sip of his beer, his eyebrows scrunched in his own confusion.

“I found wax strips in the bathroom trash!”

And suddenly your face was spattered with beer as the only sounds you could hear were the one of Foggy’s laughter. You wiped your face, annoyed.

“It’s not funny, Foggy! I don’t use wax strips!” You threw a pillow at his head.

“Okay, one, rude with the pillow. Two. I know you don’t use wax strips. I can’t believe he’s still doing this, but they’re Matt’s.”

And that’s when he told you.

Matt had his fair share of ladies in college, but there was one girl, even before Elektra, that had done a number of him. One look at him without a shirt was all it took for her to dump him, and why?

Cause he had chest hair.

And she thought it was gross.

Ever since then, Matt Murdock had a wax strip budget. He waxed his chest regularly, and never let another girl close enough to tell.

As Foggy finished his story, all you could think about was one thing.

Someone had hurt the love of your life so much that he felt like he couldn’t be honest with you. He felt like he had to change himself, as if anything different would make you run away. Finding out he was Daredevil was one thing, but you were finding yourself feeling different about this.

Someone had hurt Matt’s heart, and that wasn’t okay with you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were sitting on the couch reading a book when he came home. The clang of the roof door echoed as he ran down the stairs and into the bathroom.

“You okay?” you called out, head not looking up from the page you were, at this point, pretending to read.

“Needed to pee!” The sound of the toilet flushing echoed throughout the apartment as you waited. You knew him too well.

“Fuck.”

There it is.

More time passed before Matt slowly emerged from the bathroom, devil suit in hand as he now wore the t-shirt and sweats he sometimes kept in the bathroom. He threw the suit into the trunk before slowly turning to you, your head still looking at the book.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you, um, did you take the trash out?”

“Yes, when I got home tonight.” You closed the book, finally looking up at him. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just, um.”

In a way, this was fun. You hadn’t seen Matt flustered like this since the day he had first asked you to dinner. That being said, he was flustered for the wrong reasons.

“What is it, Matt?”

“You saw-.”

“The wax strips, yes.”

Matt stood there looking like a deer in the headlights. His eyes moved around quickly, and you knew what he was doing. He was trying to read you. But you knew he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. He wasn’t going to find the disgust.

“Come here? Please?” You reached your arm out to him and waited, like trying to lure an abused pet into trusting you. Hell, maybe that’s what you were doing to an extent. He eventually took your hand, sitting on the other end of the couch. Before he could say anything, you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The stiffness in his shoulders bled out in a near instant as he buried his head in your neck. You took your time, softly scratching your nails down his back as you just breathed with him.

Eventually, you pulled back, taking his head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Matty.”

“Sweetheart-”

“No, let me finish.”

His jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

“I’m sorry that that stupid girl back then made you feel like this. But I’m even more sorry that I made you feel like this was something you needed to hide.”

“You’re not, you didn’t, I... it doesn’t gross you out?” asked Matt. You could feel the worry simmer off his chest as if one wrong word from him would have you packing.

“No, Matt, of course, it doesn’t. And even if it did, I would never ask you to shave or wax for me. Your body is natural. Chest hair is natural. You shouldn’t feel like you need to change it for anyone!”

Matt dipped his head forward, giving you the perfect angle to place a kiss on his forehead. He let out a breath, each word shakier than the next as he spoke.

“She told me it was gross. That just, that just looking at it made her want to vomit. I had never even given a thought to my chest hair before then. I didn’t think I had to. How does it not gross you out?”

“Matthew Murdock, tell me, if I were to suddenly stop shaving my legs, would that gross you out? Would you tell me I needed to shave them or you’d leave me?”

The silence spoke louder than words.

“Exactly.”

Matt let out a sigh, a soft thud could be heard as his back hit the couch. It wasn’t hard to understand that he still wasn’t sure.

You took his chin in your hands, turning his head so you could give him a kiss. It still made you feel like you were floating on air the way he would automatically open himself to you in a moment like this. You pulled back gently.

“Listen, I’m not saying you need to change anything that you don’t want to right now. It’s your body.” He shuddered as he could feel the breath of each word hit his lips. “I’m just saying that if you did want to? I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

You kissed him again, tracing your thumb against this jaw before breaking the kiss. He softly spoke.

“Okay.”

It was only a few weeks later when you walked into the bathroom as Matt was getting ready. He stood up from where he was rinsing his face and faced you, causing you to freeze in your path.

Matt’s hairy chest.

He’d apparently stopped waxing, cause low and behold your boyfriend stood in front of you, his hairy chest right there for you to see.

It couldn’t have made you happier.

“Good morning,” said Matt. The nerves could be heard as he waited for any sort of reaction from you.

In an instant, your arms were around him. You rubbed your cheek against his chest as you buried your head into him. The little hairs tickled your face, feeling lovely as you pressed a kiss into his sternum. You looked up, placing a kiss on his chin.

“Good morning.”

The smile on his face was all you needed.

A/N: Feedback/comments always appreciated! I tried proofreading this the best I could! Feel free to let me know if I missed something.

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doubleddenden · 2 years

Text

A quick look at the timeline since we last checked in

Sonic Frontiers has a song by ONE OK GO and one version says "Fuck the pain away"

Disney proves it truly listens to what fans do not want by making live action Pinocchio, Little Mermaid, and Mufasa, which is a prequel to the much behated live action Lion King

HBO Max nuked a bunch of its animated shows for tax write offs

Uncle Grandpa almost survived with one episode called "Fleas Help Us" before being deleted

Summer Camp Island literally had a whole season ready

WB canned a completed Batgirl movie after spending $98 million. For tax write offs.

FBI raided Trump's Florida home and found hundreds of stolen top secret files, and one includes nuclear defense details on a foreign nation. Yeah he's in very hot shit

Biden administration opens the path for forgiveness for $10k-$20k of student loans, MS decides to tax anyone that gets it

When the Republicans got offended the White House Official Twitter Account revealed the MILLIONS of PPP loans the nay sayers had forgiven individually

NASA Is trying to GET US BACK ON THE MOON BABEY WOOOOOOOOO but unfortunately they had to scrub 2 launches because of engine troubles and a leak

But it's cool! It's cool! They gotta get it right because the end goal is to try and establish a MOTHERFUCKING MOON BASE!!! SOMEBODY HIGH FIVE ME

A machine on Mars the size of a lunch box made about as much oxygen as a small tree, prompting some to think we could have oxygen mines for future manned Marsian missions

Leonardo DiCaprio breaks up with another woman who just turned 25

JK Rowling wrote a book about totally not her being harassed by the very people she demonizes every day as a racist antisemitic ableist TERF and embarrassed herself in front of God and the internet again

After years of failing to sell on the market, Sony makes the decision to INCREASE the price of the PS5 despite only 5 people other than Crypto Dorks having them

Nintendo follows up by revealing they have no plans to change prices, which we all been knew because they still sell years old ports for $60

Gendy Tartokovsky's Primal aired a Dinosaur literally laying eggs up close and personal from its cloaca (side note do dinosaurs have those?)

Gendy is also apparently at the helm of a second PPG reboot in the works

She-Hulk Twerked

Looney Tunes officially ships Bugs X Daffy

3 Avatar Movies in the works. No not the blue people- well yes those too but I meant the one about the bald kid, the second one about Zuko, and the third about Korra

Blue people avatar has a movie coming in December

Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 wins Twitter poll for Twink Supreme

Reigen does absolutely nothing and wins Ultimate DILF

In an ultimate final clash, Reigen just barely loses to Sans Undertale for Tumblr Sexyman

Tobyfox wrote fanfic about it and posted it to Twitter

On the same exact fucking day Sans defeats Reigen, the Queen of England DIED. Tv stations in mourning across the globe. Meanwhile Irish people and other people directly negatively impacted by colonization by the crown cheered and partied and tumblr and twitter released the crabs 🦀

This is as of September 10th, 2022, not told in any particular chronological order

This has been the look at the timeline, and no, the year is not over yet

See yall in December

#the timeline #sonic frontiers #queen elizabeth ii #sanssweep #reigensweep #nasa #artemis 1 #hbo max #crab #im not the official news. look it up if you have doubts

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tryingtodotheright-thing · 3 months

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Hello, Sunset - 1

AN: So, the inspiration randomly came to me. I've never written with an unnamed character before and I haven't written fanfic since 2017. Bear with me and I appreciate all feedback. Not sure how long this is going to be but it will be multi-part.

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing

Summer was coming to an end. This week was the season’s last gift; it was unusually warm, endless blue skies that you saw in paintings and sunsets that seemed to last all evening. Y/N had chosen to make the most of it, knowing this was her last moment to enjoy a little break in nature before life got busy again. She was always regretful when it got to the end of summer, wishing she’d spent more time outdoors, made the most of the good weather and just lived life a bit more fervently as she once used to. She didn’t quite know how to relax anymore. Even now, as she walked along the streets of London, she couldn’t quite slow down to a leisurely pace to admire the eclectic collection of shops that graced this particular street, hidden behind the famous streets of St James’s. Y/N called it being a Londoner, that you walked with purpose, always in a race to get to your next destination. Who had time to admire their surroundings when you had places to be? You definitely didn’t want to look like a tourist.

Y/N had arrived early, one for the books since there were train strikes this weekend and she’d had to get a taxi to Wimbledon so she could take the District Line. She now had 30 minutes to waste before she could head to the restaurant, knowing that her perpetually late best friend wouldn’t arrive till at least 15 minutes after the reservation time. The sun was burning this afternoon and she knew that continuing to walk around without finding a spot of shade would just make things worse. She was parched and she’d forgotten to grab the bottle of water she’d prepared in her rush to check her doors were locked as the taxi waited for her. There was no choice but to fork up a fiver for a very expensive bottle of water in order to survive the heat. Making a swift decision, she turned around to head back to the main road. Walking briskly to escape the glares of the blazing star at its peak, she swiftly walked into Itsu. The air-conditioning inside the store gave her instant relief and she basked in it as she selected a bottle of water. After paying at the self-checkout till, she immediately opened the bottle to take a big gulp of the cold drink. Her thirst satisfied, Y/N walked out of the store and back into the heat of the summer.

As she walked back towards the restaurant, Y/N tried to slow her steps, observing those around her. It was the summer bank holiday weekend, so it was the last hooray for many of the working population in the UK. There was a mix of tourists and locals: parents with their little ones for a family day out, young couples walking with their fingers intertwined and rowdy teenagers in denial of schools restarting the next week. Time passed so quickly. She could remember being a teenager like it was yesterday but here she was in her last year of 20s, so different from her younger self when she was at the cusp of adulthood. So much had happened, so much had changed and yet sometimes she still felt a little like the insecure young woman who didn’t quite know where she fit in the vast world. Whoever said that with age comes wisdom was telling the biggest lie on earth.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N had arrived at the Japanese restaurant she was set to have her lunch at. The hostess greeted her and took her down the stairs and to the private room reserved. She looked around as she took her handbag off her shoulder and settled into her seat. The room was big enough to seat six people but it would be just Y/N and her friend, Rachel. She’d been at the restaurant exactly two years ago. That time, she’d been seated in the general restaurant then when Rachel had taken her out to celebrate Y/N’s new job. Y/N was no longer working at that company. In fact, Y/N had left the corporate world 15 months ago after suddenly landing in the spotlight. Speaking of said spotlight, the hostess had returned with chilled still water. She poured some water for Y/N before placing the bottle on a coaster. She hesitated to leave after Y/N thanked, struggling to decide whether to verbalise her thoughts or not. Taking a deep breath, she brought forward a framed picture.

“Sorry to ask but would you mind please signing this picture? We’d love to display this in the restaurant.”

Y/N smiled and reached for the pen and frame, quickly writing out a message and a signature that still seemed unfamiliar to her. Returning the items back to the hostess, Y/N reassured the hostess it was no problem and posed for a photo too. Picture taken, the hostess thanked her again profusely before closing the door behind her, leaving Y/N to silence.

Y/N sat back down in her chair and took her phone to check whether she had any messages from Rachel. Sure enough, there were three unread messages from Rachel. Yan Ya, called by all but her parents and grandparents as Rachel, was running late to no one’s surprise. Rachel was beautiful and graceful as her parents had hoped when they named her but her trouble with punctuality was a running joke between everyone who knew and loved her.

After texting Rachel back to reassure her that she’d only just arrived, Y/N scrolled through the other notifications on her phone, mostly notifications from her public Instagram account that she swiped to ignore. She came across a message from her manager that she had received about an hour ago, asking Y/N to call her. Y/N was immediately nervous about what Sian would have to say. The urgency and the cryptic instruction with no context also didn’t help. Biting the bullet, Y/N pressed the call button at the top of the screen. Sian picked up on the second ring and immediately said, “Are you alone?”

The nerves that filled her stomach had now tripled and she could almost hear the padams of her heart go faster.

“Yes, I’m in a private room at Ginza. What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Twitter today? You’re trending right now.” Y/N could trace the panic hidden in Sian’s voice. “Dispatch posted a picture of you with him.”

Suddenly, Y/N could barely hear Sian as she continued talking. Her breaths were louder and she felt her anxiety soar as her throat dried up.

“I can’t tell when it was taken but it’s so obviously the two of you. HYBE has put out a statement already denying a relationship and saying it was just two friends meeting for a meal. But Dispatch has made another post saying they have more pictures to prove that you’re in a relationship.”

Y/N took the glass of water the hostess had kindly poured for her earlier and took a sip, her hand clutching the cold glass and trying to focus on the condensation that surrounded the glass and counting in her head as she took a deep breath.

“Y/N, we need to put out a statement before HYBE to steer the narrative and protect you. You need to cancel whatever plans you have and head to my office. I’m ordering a car to pick you up from Ginza. It should be there in 5 minutes.”

Receiving no reply, Sian called out, “Y/N, are you there? Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

Hearing the rushed breath and the breaking voice, Sian immediately softened her voice. “Honey, we can get this under control. It won’t be bad like last time. Okay? Trust in me and the company to protect you.”

“I don’t want things to get worse!”

“It won’t, I promise. I’ve got you, okay? Take a deep breath for me, hun. That’s it. It’ll all be fine. We just need a plan, okay?”

Y/N meekly responded, nodding to no one as she tried to hold the tears back. The door behind her opened without a warning. Y/N flipped to find Rachel behind her with a bouquet of pink peonies. Rachel’s smile and cheery greeting grew to a stop as she noticed the crushed expression on Y/N’s face and the frazzled greetings from Sian as she tried to catch her attention again. Rushing into the room, Rachel wrapped one arm around Y/N and took Y/N’s phone from her tight clasp.

“Sian, it’s Rachel. I'm with Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Oh, thank God! Rachel, there isn’t much time to explain. There’s a car outside Ginza waiting; it’ll take you to my office. I’ll explain everything once you get here. Look after Y/N and make sure no one sees her or definitely no pictures in the state she’s in. I’ll call the restaurant right now to settle the bill.”

Rachel, understanding the urgency of the situation, ended the call with Sian and quickly gathered their belongings. Making sure she’d taken everything, she turned to Y/N, who was still in shock.

Rachel brushed Y/N’s hair away from her face and grasped her face to look at Rachel.

“Hey, whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. Where’s my strong, independent and resilient Y/N?”

“I don’t feel like any of those words right now.”

“No no no! We don’t do low confidence in this friendship when I know how amazing my friend is.” Y/N let out a shaken breath that was a mixture of laughter and tears.

Rachel quickly dabbed away the tears that fell and said, “Keep calm and carry on, as Mr Parry would say right?”

This time, Y/N smiled hearing the favourite saying of her old biology teacher. Feeling better, she rubbed her hands on her skirt and stood up.

“Right. Okay, let’s go.”

“That’s my girl!” Rachel cheered and looped her arm through Y/N’s. Pausing before the door, she turned to her left to look at her shorter friend and said, “And fuck anybody that tried to mess with you, especially one S.Coups!”

With that said, Rachel opened the door and led the way out of the restaurant.

#caratsland #seventeen au #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol angst #s.coups x reader #seventeen #seventeen x you #svt #my writing #hello sunset

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sunny-mercya · 1 year

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Masterlist

-> Masterlist 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Other Accounts -> AO3 | Wattpad | Quotev

-> @mercya-reblogs Blog for FanFic's & Co.

-> @ordinary-mercya Blog for Causal things

Series;

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Platonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother!Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Status; Ongoing

Summary; After Shinichi's disappearance you had lost the ground beneath you. Still you pulled through and stood as tall as you could. Though how much could you take till you break?

Based Songs -> Hey Brother | Saudade | Last Impression | I can't stop my love |

01. Saudade

02. Exhausted

03. Of Jealousy and Blessing

04. Awkward

04.2. Keeping Secrets

05. Nightlife

06. Love Sick

07. Love Letter

08. Therapy

09. (Self)hatred

10. Osaka Trip - Stalking

11. Osaka Trip - Abducted

12. Osaka Trip - Dubious love making

13. Osaka Trip - Fever Migraines

14. Osaka Trip - Rising Hope

15. Osaka Trip - Survival

16. Osaka Trip - Saving Knights

17. Osaka Trip - Recovery and Dates

18.

Given

Side Story

01.

02.

03.

Gone.

Batfamily x Male Child Reader

Fandom -> Batman/DCU

Status; On Hold

Summary; All you wanted was a good night story from your family, not being kidnapped.

01. Not now

02. Mommy's Love

03. Hope

04. Rescue

Christmas Special

05. Chana

06. Sleepless

07. Disasters

One Shots;

Tokyo Revengers

Swimming | Platonic! Mikey Sano x Brother!Reader, ft. Draken

Bread baking gone wrong | Shinichiro Sano x Male Reader – Established relationship

First Date Magic | Nahoya (Smiley) Kawata x Male Reader – Established Relationship

Sickly Summer | Bonten x Male Baby Reader

Detective Conan/Case Closed

Heiji Hattori

I can't stop my love for you! | Male Reader

Waiting | Male Reader

False Brother | Male Reader

MAGI - The Labyrinth of Magic

Kouen Ren

Caring in Secret | Male Reader

Sleep | Male Reader

Puns | Male Reader

Koumei Ren

World of Silence | Deaf Male Reader

Castlevania

Trevor Belmont

Small steps to forgiveness | Male Reader

Fucked up again | Male Reader

Turned | Male Reader

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackermann

Sweet family of mine | Male Reader – Single Dad & Modern Era AU

Bruce Wayne

No second chance | Male Reader

Clark Kent

Memento Mori | Male Reader

Marvel

Coming Home | Peter Quill x Son! Reader

Headcanons;

BatFam #1

Batman #1

Fem!Reader;

Hearts Thievery | Kaito Kid – Soulmate AU

Denial and Acceptance | Shinichi Kudo – Soulmate AU

Tranquility | Shinichi Kudo

#male reader #anime #Masterlist of my lovely trash #manga #case closed #detective conan/case closed #tokyo revengers #fanfiction #one shot #fem reader #x reader #dc comcis #marvel #magi the labyrinth of magic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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verai-marcel · 7 months

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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 1 of 27)

Summary: Not every adventurer wields a weapon. You, a hearth witch living near the banks of River Chionthar, are witness to a craft falling from the sky, and wondering if anyone needed assistance, ran down to find survivors. That was your first mistake. Going along with the survivors on their crazy adventure? That was your second mistake. Will you survive your next mistake of letting a hungry vampire bite you?

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure: at this point, I’ve only played through act 2 without romancing Astarion. So why the fuck am I writing some wholesome Astarion x F!Reader? Because I’m dumb and got spoiled on Youtube, and now I can’t stop thinking about the poor guy. Also this is heavily influenced by a couple of wholesome manga (“Life in Another World as a Housekeeping Mage” and “The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World”), but I won’t be writing an isekai. You (reader) are from Faerun like everyone else. I’m just here to have some wholesome feels and hurt/comfort. Let’s go go go.

Tags: wholesome, cozy camp time, Astarion x F!Reader, slow burn, good alignment, BG3 Spoilers

Chapter Word Count: 1,843

Ao3 Link here, Darling.

--------------------

Act I, Chapter 1 - The Beginning

You are a hearth witch, living on the banks of the River Chionthar, making potions and herbal remedies for the small villages nearby. For the past three years, you’d been happier than you’d ever been in your life. You loved helping people, but you made sure not to reveal your real name, nor why you always wore long sleeves and gloves, even in the middle of summer.

But the nearby villages had been emptying as of late. News of the goblin camp that recently appeared nearby had first scared off the traveling merchants, and then the locals. You realized that you too should leave, otherwise you’d either have no more customers or goblins on your doorstep. You only had a dagger and a few spells that did little in ways of actual damage, so defending yourself against a horde of enemies was out of the question. So you began to pack up, figuring out what you could bring with you, and what needed to be repurchased once you reached your new home, wherever that might be.

On a warm sunny day, you decided that this would be your last day here. Your pack was filled, your cottage cleaned out. Tomorrow morning, you would take off to the east, following the river to the next closest town. For now, you decided to grab a few more ingredients for the road, and so, you were out by the river bank, gathering fresh herbs and mushrooms.

A booming sound followed a strong gust of wind that whipped around you, twigs and grass flying everywhere. Then you saw a ship crash nearby, the land and water being torn asunder, debris flung in all directions. After the chaos died down a bit, you went to go check for survivors. You couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away if someone might need help.

That was a poor decision on your part.

The first survivor you found was a young, dark-haired woman, passed out on the shore. She seemed standoffish, but after helping her up and giving her a drink from your waterskin, you convinced her that the best thing to do was to get out of the area and rest at your cottage while she regained her bearings.

A little while later, the two of you came upon the strange sight of a single arm, sticking out of a glowing purple rune. You and the young woman, Shadowheart, pulled the poor man out. He introduced himself as Gale, and also joined your party.

As the three of you continued back to your cottage, you came across another stranger. Skin as pale as marble and hair to match. Had some scars on his neck. Perhaps he got them on the ship? He seemed harmless enough. Another escapee of the craft that fell from the sky.

That is, until he tricked you into looking for something in the bushes.

If only he hadn’t touched your exposed neck with his bare hand. Then you wouldn’t have felt the fear, underlined by a desperation you knew all too well.

The leash is cut.

It made you empathize. And that was one rule that had been burned into your mind at a young age.

Do not empathize with the enemy.

Fortunately, Gale and Shadowheart talked him down from stabbing you. The man even apologized to you, though it seemed more for show than for sincerity.

Astarion was his name. He introduced himself with aplomb and decorum, and your hackles raised at the sight. A noble.

After a bit more conversation, they agreed that their shared affliction was enough of a reason to travel together and find a cure.

Swallowing down your general prejudice against nobles, you ignored him and made small talk with the others as you led them back to your cottage.

***

Your cottage had only one room, enough space for your bed, some storage for herbs and tools, and a work table for your alchemy. Most of your things were packed, but you pulled out enough to take care of your guests.

The yard to the side of the building was set up as a small campground for travelers to rest. You had figured out a couple years ago that for a small fee, traveling merchants would gladly rest on your land where it was safe, while you made them fresh, nourishing meals and cast spells on their bedrolls to make them feel warm and comfortable. You even managed to get a small tub built in the back to provide a warm bath for an extra fee.

It had been a lucrative idea, one that made you enough money to be quite comfortable out here in the sticks.

You may only know a few cantrips, but you had manipulated them beyond what most people did. Your mending cantrip could fix whole swaths of cloth, your prestidigitation cantrip could keep bedrolls warm all night, or baths hot for hours. It was why you had several repeat customers, traveling merchants who would alter their routes to come to your place to rest.

You told them of the surrounding area and cooked a meal for them, a simple stew with seasonal vegetables and herbs.

The noble said he wasn’t hungry. You supposed your poor peasant food wasn’t to his taste.

He can suit himself.

While the others were eating, you set up the campground. While you were quietly casting the comfort cantrip on each bedroll, you sensed someone watching you.

“Yes?” you asked, biting the inside of your mouth to keep from being snippy.

Astarion stepped closer to you. He remained standing, looking down on your kneeling form. “What an interesting way to use prestidigitation.”

You shrugged. You had nothing to say to a noble. You finished your spell and started to shuffle over to the next bedroll, but he remained standing in your way.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, darling.” He didn’t budge.

You let out a short huff and crawled around him. One bedroll left. Ignoring the man, you began the cantrip.

By the time you finished, you looked up to see all three of them watching you.

“What?” you asked, a little disturbed by the attention.

“I hadn’t thought to use that cantrip like this before,” Gale said as he knelt down to touch the bedroll. “How long does it last?”

“All night,” you responded, feeling a little proud of yourself.

Shadowheart was already crawling into the bedroll. “This feels amazing.” She buried herself into the cloth. “It feels like I’m sleeping on a warm cloud.”

Gale shrugged and followed suit. “Gods, you’re right.” He sat up and looked at you. “I don’t know how you manipulated that spell, but it’s absolutely brilliant.”

You felt a zing of joy. Your little custom cantrip impressed a wizard!

The noble watched you for a few more moments before he too, crawled into a bedroll. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh. My, this is rather comfortable.”

You jutted out your chin, but refrained from being too catty about it. Instead, you switched to being polite.

“Sweet dreams,” you said to everyone, and went about cleaning up around camp. By the time you were done, the three of them were fast asleep.

***

The motley crew thanked you and took off in the morning to explore the area, seemingly never to return.

You looked around at your unpacked things, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to start off tomorrow morning instead.

Your plans were sidetracked once more, however, when the group returned that evening with a fourth member, grouchy and prickly as a threatened porcupine. After a couple of bowls of your herbal soup, she became a little bit less prickly. Lae'zel was her name, and she punctuated her Common speech with her Githyanki tongue. You found it a bit endearing, the way one finds a stray animal that always hisses at you endearing.

You cast a warming spell on their bed rolls once more, burned incense to keep the insects away, and made sure they were all comfortable in your little camp area outside of your cottage before going to bed.

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast for them before they left to explore the ruins that they had found the day before. As you checked your rabbit traps, you noticed one of them was tripped, but the rabbit within was a mere husk, as if it had been dehydrated.

Curious.

You reset your trap and returned to camp.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart asked when she saw the husk of a corpse in your hand.

“A dried up rabbit.”

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Lae’zel remarked.

You shrugged. “I can at least sell the pelt later. Sorry, you’ll have to make do with another vegetable stew tonight.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “That is, if you’re coming back here.”

The four adventurers looked at each other.

“I think we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough,” Gale said. We’ll start heading west from here.”

***

The group had finally left, and you had finished packing. You had been delayed by their arrival, but no longer. They truly seemed gone now, with the sun setting and no sign of their return. Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow, early in the morning, you would set off—

You heard your name being called. Off in the distance, you could see Gale, waving sheepishly at you, followed by the others.

You sighed. Biting back your annoyance, you smiled and waved back. A customer was a customer. At least this group was entertaining, and quite generous with their gold. And this time, they brought you back some boar meat.

There was one new face, a man with a stone eye. He introduced himself as the Blade of the Frontiers, Wyll. He seemed nice, charismatic even. Someone who had the manners of a noble but the heart of a commoner.

They set up camp once more in your yard, and you unpacked just enough of your supplies to make them a meal.

"You look like you're ready to go on a journey," Gale commented as you all sat around the campfire, eating a boar roast with herbed potatoes.

"I'm moving. Many people have moved away because of the increase in goblins in the area, and a lot of my business has dried up. And having goblins this close doesn't make me feel all too safe."

“Any plans on where?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to travel until I found a place to settle.”

"Well, why don't you come with us?"

Everyone looked at Gale in shock, but then they all looked at you.

"You do make camp much more comfortable," Shadowheart finally said.

“And one of us would be standing guard at camp as well, so you would be safe,” Wyll added.

You saw no reason to decline. You liked most of them, save for one snotty noble. A constant flow of income would be nice, for once. You negotiated a decent wage and agreed to head out with them at first light.

That, dear hearth witch, was your second poor decision.

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Chapter End Notes:

Yeah, I basically made up a “hearth witch” class as a combo of druid, wizard, and cleric, but hey, welcome to Dungeons & Dragons, where homebrew classes happen all the time. Hope you enjoyed the fic! I'm actively working on the next chapter!

Update 4/4/24: All chapters are here!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #your hearth is my home

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kingsanddragonsandgods · 17 days

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a/n: this is just the story preface, not yet chapter one. for this fanfic i am keeping mostly the book timeline, but there will be a little bit of show timeline further ahead.

it is a AU which blends aspects of book and show canons but is also a lot of headcanons. i am a bit of a history nerd, so there is bits inspired by real life historical events, i also drawn a lot of inspiration from medieval/renaissence royal courts to write how i imagine life at the Red Keep would be, most numbers i will use in this story are also taken from history (noble households, courtiers, armies, ships and crews etc), as are titles for functions an jobs that are not shown on the show or books. There are a couple of Original Characters that are going to be introduced over time, and a few canon characters that are barely mentioned or not seen at all on the show. additional information: I chose to keep the show's 'ages' for some characters, so, for the sake of the story: Viserys was born in 70 AC, Daemon in 74 AC, Rhaenys in 67 AC, and Aemma and Rhea share the year 76 AC.

word count: 2802

warnings: none for this chapter

“...Princess of Runestone, proved herself in her maiden voyage crossing of the Narrow Sea, six pirate ships gave chase as we crossed through the Stepstones, their inferior ships however were no match for our girl or to our brave crew. We had already sunk three carracks when they choose to surrender the remaining three after sighting Archonei descending upon them. We lock the surviving pirates in the holding cells, and seize their cargo, to my great surprise I was able to ascertain that the cargo on the ships once belonged to none other than the Sea Snake.” Enya reads aloud the letter she received from Ser Orys, her half-brother, coming all the way from Lys, the first stop on his great voyage. “We intend to sell the cargo in Lys, Maester Aldus believes it will yield a great profit, at least 20-times Mother’s initial investment, it seems almost unbelievable that we are only on the first leg of the journey. Gods willing, my next letter home shall be sent from old Volantis. Tell Mother I miss her advice and our morning rides, as I miss your sweet face, and our daily flights. Send my love to everyone home and make sure that young Willam is dedicating himself to his training. Your loving brother, Ser Orys Stone…” Her granddaughter finishes reading her the letter, folding it carefully and putting it inside the hard cover of the book she has next to her on the wheelhouse seat.

How the girl manages to read in the bouncing carriage is something that marvels her, she feels nauseous just watching it.

Elys would have much preferred to have made the journey by ship, but the early spring storms that plague the East Coast they didn't allow them to leave the safety of the harbour.

The lady wouldn't be making the trip if she could help it, she had just come out of mourning period for her dear husband, all she wanted was to be able to take the time to visit her daughters and spend time with her grandchildren before returning to Eyrie to resume supervising her niece's upbringing. But the beginning of spring means Visenya's relocation to the royal court in King's Landing, to spend the spring and summer with her father and paternal family.

Last time her granddaughter was at court was four years before the death of the Old King, whom she had served as cupbearer when he still had the mental faculties to attend the Council. She had been just a child then, the king's favourite great-granddaughter.

Since then, she had blossomed into a stunning beauty, no longer a girl but not yet a woman, striking in that way that only those from the blood of the dragon are.

A beauty worthy of a crown.

A crown she had been promised as a child.

If the gods had been merciful, little Prince Aerion would have survived infancy and today he would be a boy of nearly three and ten, the heir to his father’s throne, betrothed to Visenya by the will of King Jaehaerys. But Aenar died in his cradle, followed by his little brother, Aelor, and two early miscarriages. And her granddaughter lost the her chance at the crown promised to her.

“Do you think Orys can one day surpass the feats of the Sea Snake?” Elys turns her head from the window to look at her granddaughter.

“He might,” Elys candidly admits, “Orys has advantages that Velaryon did not, Archonei being the greatest of them."

Elys had disagreed with her daughter's decision to raise the prince's natural son after the boy's mother died—Orys was, in Elys' opinion, the stain on her daughter's dignity, a bastard child her betrothed fathered on a Royce cousin of lesser consequence, during the feast celebrating the union between Houses Royce and Targaryen—as he grew, the boy proved her wrong in her reservations against him. He was as devoted to Rhea as he was to Visenya, respectfully calling her ‘Mother’ after asking permission to do so, loyal and honourable, dedicating himself to every life opportunity offered by his stepmother.

She would never forget his terror when Visenya's egg hatched in his hands, it was the day he won her over, he had tears in his eyes as he asked Rhea for forgiveness for hatching the dragon as it was not his intention, he went on to say that he had never coveted her sister's egg and that she could have the hatchling. Her daughter just laughed, kissing the boy's head and explaining that the dragon had chosen him.

Jaehaerys was not at all pleased with the accident when Rhea sent a letter informing him of what had happened. Daemon finally took an interest in the dark-haired boy Rowena birthed, flying to the Vale to see the dragon, taking it upon himself to have twenty dragonkeepers sent to Runestones.

“I hope he can accomplish it, for himself and for House Royce." Visenya says looking out the window, pulling back the curtains to get a better look, wrinkling her little nose at the stench that enters the carriage and allowing the curtain to fall closed again. “I had forgotten that the city smells so bad.”

“You better get used to it again." Elys passes a bag of scented salts to the young woman. “Tie it to your wrist, you can smell it when the stench gets too much.”

The slums around the city wall have grown considerably larger than Lady Elys remembered from her last visit so many years before.

People beg with outstretched hands on the road as they see the bronze wheelhouse pass by.

It's a sad sight.

The lady sighs before pulling the small dark wooden chest out from under the bench under Visenya's curious eyes. She takes out a heavy bag of coins and pushes the chest back with her foot, hiding it with her skirt. She signals with her hand for any of the knights escorting them to approach the window. Willam Royce, her nephew by marriage, Gunthor’s youngest boy, and Leofric Corbray squire, is the one to come to her.

She contains a smile as she sees the boy blush when he notices Visenya's curious gaze on him.

It's no secret that the boy is sweet on little Enya—just like half the boys of similar age in Runestone—in another life he would be a good match for the future Lady of Runestone, Willam is handsome, with dark curls and blue eyes, and will probably grow up to be a tall, handsome man, and appease everyone in the family that the next heir would retain the surname Royce without the need for major manoeuvres.

“Lady Aunt." He greets her with a nod, keeping his horse's gallop in sync with the carriage. “My princess.”

Visenya just smiles at him, looking at him from beneath her lashes, which only makes him blush more.

“Willam, my sweet, be a dear and hand out these coins to the people." She passes the heavy bag into his hand.

The squire just nods again, looking once more at the Targaryen princess before doing as his aunt asked of him.

Once he is away and the curtain is closed again, Elys lets out the laugh she forced herself to hold in, lightly slapping her granddaughter's knee in reprimand.

“Shameless flirt!” The Dowager Lady of Runestone pointed her finger at the girl.

“I have to train for court life, don't I?" Visenya says with a naughty tone. “I'm of marriageable age, I have to charm all the beautiful second sons, have them all at my feet asking for my hand, there is no better opportunity than during a season at court.”

A beauty of beauties in all the Seven Kingdoms, if not in all the Known World.

Visenya is slender, nymph-like of body, with very pale white skin dotted with golden freckles—the only inheritance from Rhea in her appearance—, plump lips and pretty pearly teeth, a neat nose, and large eyes of an unusual bluish-lilac shade. Her hair is a beautiful flaxen, a few shades lighter than Elys own, curled and long—she's not sure her granddaughter's hair was ever cut more than a little trim at the ends—now ribboned for practicality during the travel.

Elys remembers vividly the Good Queen Alysanne carrying the baby in her arms during her anointment commenting that little Visenya reminded her of Viserra, the most beautiful of her daughters, in appearance.

“Be careful child, you don't want a reputation, especially in the Red Keep."

“I can be discreet." The girl winks at her grandmother amid giggles.

The wheelhouse takes a while to cross the city from Dragon's Gate to the Red Keep, the guards escorting it thought it better to go around Fleabottom than through it. Especially with the four glitzy wheelhouses carrying the noblewomen and their ladies-in-waiting, and the wagons with their belongings coming right behind, with things that attract the attention of the wrong kind of people.

Their retinue arrives at the Red Keep midday.

There is quite a crowd waiting to receive them. The standard-bearers stop between the carriage and the people waiting, proudly carrying the banners of Houses Targaryen, Royce and Arryn, and the Princess of Runestone personal crest: a pearlescent white dragon with the halved shield with the crests of Royce and Arryn between its claws in a black field with bronze runes around the border.

“Princess Visenya of House Targaryen, heir of Runestone.” The Herald announces her granddaughter, as a guard opens the wheelhouse door for them. “Her Lady Grandmother, Lady Elys of House Arryn, Dowager Lady of Runestone.”

Elys arranges the balzo on top of Visenya's head and centres the small jewel on her forehead, pinching her cheek for a healthy blush before the girl pushes back the linen curtain and leaves with the assistance of a Kingsguard guard.

The lady fixes her own skirt before leaving the wheelhouse behind her granddaughter.

The first person she notices is the Queen, her younger sister, in the light blue silks of her paternal House.

A chill runs down her spine as she looks at her sister.

Despite her Targaryen blood through her mother, Princess Daella, in appearance Aemma is an Arryn, with pale sandy hair, an aquiline nose and light blue eyes. Aemma is only eight and twenty, a few months older than her Rhea, however, she looks like a woman nearly to Elys own age.

She looks emaciated, haggard…sick. The Stranger follows her closely. Her youngest sister would not survive a full-term pregnancy and childbirth, it surprised Elys even that she had lived until this moment, with so many failed pregnancies and increasingly long and painful periods of recovery.

Beside her, giving her his arm for support, is Viserys, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, dressed in silk damask of gold and Tyrosh-purple, his grandfather’s crown upon his brow, looking more youthful and healthier than his younger wife. His silver-gold hair is kept short, following southern fashion which has a great Andal influence, he also sports a silver-gold moustache, so thin and pale it almost disappears on his face.

He is a handsome man, but pales in comparison to his dashing younger brother, especially when the two are side by side.

“Your Graces.” Visenya makes a perfect curtsy to the King and Queen and stands as if the castle belongs to her.

The couple is smiling at the young woman with indulgence.

“You have grown beautiful Visenya.” The king says, his eyes fixed on his niece.

Elys recognizes the expression on his face.

Like any woman who was once young and desired, she recognizes the almost obscene expression when older men look at women young enough to be their daughters and imagine themselves as young as their sons.

The look on a man's face when he lusts after a woman old enough to be his daughter, and who he knows he shouldn't desire.

“Thank you, Your Grace."

“Just stating the truth my dear." In a gallant gesture, the king kisses his niece's hand.

“Brother, stop holding up the line!” The prince’s impatient voice interrupts, causing the King to take his covetous eyes away from his young niece.

Prince Daemon is a tall man, only a few centimetres shorter than his older brother, he keeps his silvery hair long, following the fashion of Old Valyria.

Unlike Viserys's ostentatious clothes, Elys good son is dressed in all black leather, well cut and elegant, but infinitely more subtle than the rest of the court. He carries Dark Sister around his waist, and his only ornament is the livery collar that marks him. as a member of the Small Council and Master of Coin.

Visenya smiles and turns to her father making a new curtsy. “Lord Father.”

“Little dragoness.” There is a smile on the prince's face, he has his hands on his only daughter's shoulders, despite being considered a tall young woman, Visenya looks small next to her father. He puts his forehead to hers, saying something that only she hears, and then kisses her cheek.

“Sister." Elys takes her eyes off the reunion between father and daughter and approaches her sister with her hand outstretched.

“My queen." In a gesture of deference, Elys kisses her sister's pale hand and offers a profound curtsy. “Your Grace.” She bows her head to her good brother.

“Lady Elys, it is good to have you at court again." Viserys says amiable. “I am sure your sisters missed you dearly." He looks at Aemma with a smile and at Lady Amanda Redfort born Arryn, standing next to the queen. “Let's give them time to rest from the road, later we shall have a welcome feast.” The king announces to the court members present, taking the queen's hand in his and guiding her into the castle.

Prince Damon follows them, his arm around his daughter's shoulders, and head tilted toward her as they continue their private conversation. One by one the courtiers follow them, even her ladies and her granddaughter's, Elys nods for them to enter, until only Amanda and her remain in the courtyard.

“How bad is she?"

Amanda approaches until the two are face to face, she looks to the side for a moment, making sure there is no one else around.

Her younger sister, like herself, maintains a youthful appearance, even as they have both now seeing past their forty years of age. It comes with their Upcliff blood, their mother died young, not even thirty years old, yet she still had the appearance of a woman half her age.

Amanda inherited her colouring, beautiful red-gold hair, and blueish grey eyes like a stormy sea.

“The Maestre has already recommended that she not try to get pregnant again after the last miscarriage, she had a difficult time recovering, almost a year," Amanda informs her, there is concern in her eyes “now she is once again with child, and it is taking a toll on her. I don’t believe she will live to see the child.”

“The child will not be born." Lady Elys declares it like a sentence. She can feel it.

“There is more." Amanda says. “The Small Council has been hinting that he should set her aside, that he should marry a queen who can bear him heirs.” She lowers her tone, tilting her head toward her sister. “There are rumours that His Grace had a bastard boy with a courtesan, and he might be discreet, but I know for sure that there are mistresses.”

“Does Aemma knows?”

“I believe so.” She nods. “They are, however, ladies of little consequence, barely noble, daughters of second and third sons, some not even that, daughters of knights and rich merchants,” Amanda explains, “His Grace has a king’s an appetite and a queen constantly bedridden who clearly does not meet his needs.”

“Hm.” It's the only reaction Elys gives.

A tale old as time, men will be men, even the best of them.

Viserys may be gentle and amiable, but he was always a man of appetites, and pious Aemma was never an ardent lover.

Elys blames the Good Queen for her precocious marriage and sheltered upbring, Aemma was just a girl, still playing with dolls.

The marriage was not consummated before her four and tenth nameday, and until then Viserys would entertain himself with whores and courtesans usually in the company of his brother and half a dozen favourites.

“We shall have to stay alert to whom he takes to bed." Elys says, linking her arm with her sister's and directing her into the castle.

“What happens if she dies or is put aside?"

Then perhaps Visenya will have the crown she was promised. And we might yet have a king of our blood on the Iron Throne.

#hotd #house of the dragon #viserys targaryen x reader #viserys married his own niece #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhea royce #daemon targaryen/rhea royce children #the red queen #AU hotd story

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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months

Text

Look for the Light Epilogue

Series Masterlist

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him?

- Notes: I am so so sad this story is over! I loved every second of writing this and put in so many hours on this masterpiece. This was my first ever fanfic and I hold it so dear to my heart. I can’t tell you how much I cried writing the epilogue. It ended perfect, and I just can’t get over that it’s over 😭🥹 My heart hurts

This is the song I played over and over when I wrote this chapter, fits so well 🥰🩵

You watched the rest of December disappear just like the snow on the ground. The last few weeks were magical as the town was donned in glittery Christmas lights and garland foliage. Joel had even decorated the living room with a little pine tree and splayed pretty Christmas lights all over it. It was the comfiest Christmas you’d ever had. Your favorite part was being wrapped up with him on the couch as you drank hot chocolate and sat in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve, keeping warm as he kept you in his lap, running his fingers through your hair and sending light kisses against your temples.

You watched the seasons fly by in Jackson as the months came and went in the blink of an eye. You watched the frigid, snowy days turn to lush, rainy days as the spring flowers started to blossom outside the gates.

The town was quiet for the most part. You had settled into your normal routine in Jackson, taking care of all the horses and even some of the other animals like the sheep which was Joel’s favorite. He had always wanted his own sheep farm, so he’d stop by every time you were tending to them.

Joel started working on more projects in town, helping build new buildings, fixing things around houses, and even doing a little woodwork in his spare time. He always loved working with his hands and making new things. He had a knack for it and was good at it, too. Some days you’d just sit there in his woodshop and watch him work. The way his rough hands would cut the wood, the way he’d turn an ordinary item into a beautiful piece of art. The way his broad shoulders and massive biceps would flex each time he brought the hammer down onto the table. He was a masterpiece in himself. A gorgeous work of art.

And then there was Ellie. You got to witness the budding relationship between Joel and her take place over the changing seasons. That was your favorite thing to see. He taught her so many things, even taught her how to swim in the deep crystal lake that was nearby. He was so careful with her, so patient. You could see he deeply cared about her now.

He was always grabbing up comic books on patrols that he thought she’d like, always putting her needs before his own. He was quite selfless and so kind. You loved seeing him turn from that angry, brooding man into a protective, sweet, loving one. He was so different than the man you once knew. You liked this version of him. No, you loved this version. You loved him, intensely.

Most evenings were spent sitting on the porch swing as you watched Joel teach Ellie more songs on the guitar. He had found her her own acoustic guitar and gifted it to her at Christmas. The way he lit up when he saw Ellie’s face as she opened the gift under the dazzling tree was worth the trip to find the guitar in the first place. It made your heart burst at the seams. She had been so excited to have her own guitar, and she practiced every day as it became her new favorite hobby. Joel and Ellie had become quite the duo.

The crisp, spring days turned into warm summer days as July rolled around. Joel was taking you on an adventure today or so he said. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going. He wouldn’t even do so much as give you a hint. He kept his jaw locked tight as you rolled your eyes and gave up.

As he led Shimmer out of the barn, you saw Tommy and Maria smiling brightly at Joel like they knew something you didn’t. You saw Joel whispering to Tommy and Maria earlier in the week, even doing the same to Ellie. You didn’t know what all the secrecy was about, but you’d figure it out eventually. Your birthday was only a month away, so maybe they were planning a secret party? Oh well, you wouldn’t worry about it today. You’d just enjoy whatever adventure he was taking you on.

Joel was dressed in his usual attire, even though it was above 80 degrees outside. He had on a grey t-shirt and his green flannel shirt hung unbuttoned over that. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he showed off those thick veins that spread across the width of his arms and ended at his massive hands.

He had put on even more muscle during the springtime with all the projects he was doing, so his biceps were clinging to his flannel, threatening to tear the material at any given time. You loved those strong arms, loved being inside them as he held you close at night. It was one of your favorite things.

His blue jeans hung snuggly across his waist and showed off his muscular thighs. He was all ripped, all muscle. And he was all yours for the taking.

Before you could jump up on Shimmer, Joel put a hand on your shoulder and stopped you in your tracks. He clicked his tongue and smiled up at you. “Hold on, darlin’. Gotta put this on before we go.” He held out a big, oversized black ribbon in front of your face as you questioned the gesture of it.

“What’s this for?” you asked as your eyebrows furrowed together.

“You gotta put it on so you don’t see where we’re goin’,” he answered as he kept his hand in place with the ends of the ribbon flying softly in the wind.

“But why would I put that on?” you asked with a dazed expression.

“It’s a surprise. Don’t want ya seein’ where I’m leading you. Can I just put it on you?” he asked with a calm voice, trying to convince you the best he could.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay. You win. Go ahead,” you said as you crossed your arms. He gently smiled at you and nodded.

“Alright, turn around for me,” he asked, delicately grasping you by the shoulders and turning you as he wrapped the ribbon around your eyes as you watched the sunlight disappear into darkness.

“Can you see anything?” he asked as he tried waving a hand in front of your eyes.

“No, think you wrapped me up tight enough,” you replied as you heard him chuckle under his breath.

“Alright, then up you go.” He lifted you up as you felt yourself leave the ground as you landed on top of Shimmer with your legs dangling and your hands frantically feeling for something to grasp. You felt for the saddle and held on tight.

“Joel, don’t you dare let me fall!” you yelled as you held on for dear life.

He laughed under his breath and jumped up to join you on Shimmer. “I’m not gonna let you fall, sweetheart. Just hold on to me and keep a tight grip. I got you,” he promised as he grabbed a hold of the reins.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist before he took off into the heat of the day, letting the wind catch your hair as Shimmer’s pace picked up. The sun’s scorching rays caught your bare shoulders in the white lacy tank top you were in along with the blue Jean shorts that grazed your thighs, making your skin glow with that shimmery summer tan.

You rode on for a couple miles until you finally broke your silence and laughed against the racing wind. “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise, darlin’. Can’t tell you even if I wanted to,” he replied as you could hear his smile and how it crinkled up at the corners of his mouth.

“Fine,” you sighed.

He chuckled again softly. “We’re almost there. Just a couple more minutes,” he promised. He squeezed your hand in response, sending vibrations buzzing through your body.

After a few minutes you heard Joel halt Shimmer as she came to a complete stop. He jumped off her back and gently lifted you off, bringing you safely back to the ground.

“Can you take this off me now?” you asked, anxious to take the blinding ribbon off.

“Almost, just give me another minute. Follow my voice, we’re almost there,” he promised.

He took your hands in his and led you forward. You couldn’t see anything, but you could smell sweet, fragrant scents of honeysuckle and floral aromas around you. The smell was overwhelming as it took over all your senses. Flowers were one of your favorite things, and Joel knew this. So you just wondered where exactly he was leading you.

What was he up to?

You could feel the lush grass underneath your feet with every step you took. The wind whistled through your ears as you heard the rustling of branches swaying gently in the breeze and could feel the faint touch of summer heat on your tan skin.

You felt the ground turn softer, almost like you were walking through moss. You heard Joel’s footsteps in front of you faintly, the sound of leaves and sticks crunching under his weight.

“Joel! Not so fast, I don’t want to fall,” you laughed as he led you further into the unknown.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, turning towards you with that soothing voice that could lull all your worries away.

“Yes,” you said automatically. Of course you trusted him.

“Then believe me when I say I’d never let you fall. I’ve got you, I promise.”

The floral scents became stronger as you wandered further into the distance, getting closer to wherever he was leading you. The hint of something sweet like candy filled the air. You breathed in deep and caught the scent of something you’ve smelled before but couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

What was that smell? Something soft…maybe roses? No…something else. You inhaled deeply and got another whiff of lush fragrance. It almost smelled like lilacs. One of your favorites. Joel had always said how much you smelled like lilacs, and it quickly became his favorite trademark of you.

Could it be? No…there weren’t lilacs around this area that you knew of. Maybe jasmine was what you were smelling? Yes, that’s what it had to be.

Joel slowly stopped you as he dropped your hands. “You ready?” he asked with a small laugh rumbling in his throat.

“More than ready,” you said prepared.

“Okay. Open you eyes,” he said softly as he untied the ribbon and dropped it, freeing you from the darkness as blinding light took over. You took a moment to adjust your eyes and then you saw just where you stood.

You gasped as you took in your surroundings. You weren’t just anywhere. You were in the middle of a giant field filled with lilac and violet flowers. The field was absolutely covered as vibrant purples blossomed all around you. Thick vines of lilac climbed up the sides of oak trees and got buried in the pinks and whites of wild flowers in the distance. You never saw such beautiful flowers before. The deep, rich shades of light and dark purple completely took over the area. It was like nothing you had seen before.

“Joel…how did you find this place?” you asked in disbelief, making a clear circle as you turned to face him again.

“This wasn’t exactly here before,” he answered as he raked a hand across his salt and pepper scruff, staring at you nervously.

“What do you mean it wasn’t here?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took a step towards him, taking in the sweet smell of lilacs as it encased the air.

“I planted them by hand in the winter. Well, not just me. I had Maria help me since she’s a master at that sort of thing. She said they’d be fine over winter and wouldn’t take too long to start growing. They’re not fully mature yet, but it’s just the beginning. Another year and they’ll be fully grown. Thought you might like it….ya know since they’re your favorite flowers and all,” he said blushing, a small smile edging his lips as his dimples were in full effect now. Making you all warm and fuzzy from the view of him. That beautiful smile.

“You…you did this all for me?” you whispered, your eyes wide in shock.

“That’s right. All for you, sweetheart,” he answered affectionately.

Oh.

“Joel, that…that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you said quietly, still in a daze.

“So, ya like it then?” he asked with raised eyebrows, anxious for your answer.

“I don’t just like it, I love it!” you said excitedly as you beamed at him.

“Good, that’s good,” he smiled again as he scratched the back of neck restlessly.

What was he so nervous for? Was he afraid you wouldn’t like it? Because obviously you loved it.

You spun around as you glanced over the glorious flowers as they were on full display for you, their heavenly scents surrounding you as you drank in the sweet fragrance. You grazed your finger over a deep purple violet as you took in its delicate, velvety petals. Examining how succulent and pretty they all were.

You turned back around towards Joel as you were about to ask him a question. “Joel, do you…” You stopped mid sentence when you saw him down on one knee right in front of you. Your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped at the sight as you took in his sincere and longing eyes as he stared at you in awe.

Was he about to ask you to…oh my God.

He took both of your hands in his as he took a deep breath and smiled admiringly at you. “Alyson Harper, my love. Where do I even begin? You are the most beautiful, incredible woman I’ve ever met. You’ve taught me so much over the last year, so much about life. You’ve shown me how to be patient, how to be kind. Especially with Ellie. I could not have brought her all the way here without your help and support. And I definitely couldn’t raise her on my own without your help and guidance. You are incredibly patient with her, and that’s something you taught me how to be also. You’ve taught me how to be completely selfless, how to be gentle. You helped me find my way to the light when I was stuck in the darkness, unable to find my way out myself. You’ve taught me how to trust again, how to love again. You reminded me what it was like to live again. You’ve been exactly what I needed all along. You made me a better man, made me want to be better. For you and for Ellie. And I just could not picture my life without you in it. You are the love of my life, Alyson. And I don’t want to do this life without you.”

You felt a teardrop run down your cheek as you quickly wiped it away. His speech was so beautiful, it was like music to your ears. An entire symphony that was only playing for you, and Joel was the composer. You were internally screaming at his words, at how intimate and loving they were. The way he was looking at you with those warm, serene pools of honey in his eyes almost knocked you down by how intense it was.

He dropped one of your hands and dug around in his pocket for something until he found exactly what he was looking for. Once he grabbed it, he fished his hand out of his jeans and held up a glistening, purple amethyst diamond ring to you which made you about topple over.

You gawked at the sight as your eyes went wide and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, completely stunned at just what was happening before your eyes. Joel’s deep brown eyes were watering as he continued on with his speech as he held your hand tightly and looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world.

“Alyson, will you please do me the honor of marrying me? Make me the happiest man in the world,” he asked as he poured his heart out to you.

You felt your heart skip a beat as happy tears fell down your cheeks. You bit your lip and held in anymore tears that were threatening to spill, wanting to compose yourself in the best way that you could.

“Joel, I don’t know what to say…” you said stunned, your voice carrying faintly across the soft wind.

“Say yes, baby,” he pleaded, his eyes honing in on you as they sank deep inside your soul. You swear you could feel that string attached to his heart connect to yours as you were pulled to him like a moth to a flame.

He was asking as if you needed enticing. Of course you didn’t. This was a hard yes, the easiest yes you’d ever have to say. Joel was your future, your best friend, your forever lover. And you wanted it with him as much as he wanted it with you. A life of happiness, full of love and joy.

“Yes, yes! A thousand times yes,” you yelled in pure bliss as you met him on his level and cupped his face in between your palms, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips tasted like honey as his soft, delicate lips crashed down on yours. He wrapped his arm around your waist and picked you up, spinning you in circles as he kissed you again and again, finally putting you back on the ground and keeping his arms around you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said as he smiled down at you, brushing his lips against yours.

He took your left hand in his and gently slid the sparkling ring on your ring finger. It was a perfect fit. It was so gorgeous, you’d never seen anything quite like it before. The way the iridescent diamond was etched, you swear you could see Joel’s heart beating inside it. A clear marking of something you could wear forever that was a piece of him.

“How did you find this? It’s gorgeous,” you breathed out as he held your hand up and observed the ring.

“You know all those late nights I spent on patrols with Tommy?” he asked as he looked into your eyes with big, dreamy brown eyes, nearly taking your breath away at the sight.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“Well, turns out Tommy helped me search high and low for a jewelry store. He knew there had to be one around Wyoming somewhere. Took a long time, but we finally found one. It was pretty picked through. I didn’t have too many options, but I wanted to find the perfect ring for ya. You always said purple was your favorite color, so when I saw this I just knew it was the one. And it’s beautiful on you, really brings out the sapphire blue of your eyes. My little lilac angel,” he purred as he caressed your check with the base of his thumb, slowly easing you into a hypnotic lull that you didn’t want to shake.

“Joel…I have no words. This is…this is just so incredible. You’re incredible. You’re amazing. You’re everything I ever wanted.” A tear trickled down your cheek and Joel caught it with his thumb, wiping it away as he kissed the damp area on your face gently.

“You deserve the best, and I’m going to be that for you. I’m gonna take good care of ya, sweetheart. Gonna love you with everything that I have.”

He slowly brought his lips back down to yours and gave you a long, passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently scratched along the tousled curls at the back of his head as he slid his tongue into your mouth, gently massaging yours in tune with his as you tasted a hint of coffee. That taste that you loved and couldn’t get enough of.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you down to the ground playfully as he climbed on top of you and caged his arms around you, hovering just about you as he blocked the sun from your vision. All you saw were those magnetic, syrupy brown eyes and an infectious smile that played across the corners of his mouth, making him look like the gentle soul that he was. His eyes were lit up like he had just won the lottery the way he was looking at you. It made your heart melt all just the same.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked as you laughed, taking a hand and running it up and down his inner arm slowly, making you want to pull him down on top of you.

“Because the prettiest girl just agreed to marry me, and now I get you all to myself,” he beamed as his eyes lit a fire in your soul.

“Oh, you get me all to yourself now?” you laughed, trailing your fingers against his salt and pepper scruff.

“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips hung just above yours.

“I am all yours. Now come here, handsome.” You grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and pulled him down to you. He landed on your lips as he placed a hand under your chin, keeping you glued to him as he explored your mouth with his tongue, lapping you up completely as he rolled over and pulled you on top of him, his arms going around your waist as he slowly ended the kiss.

You laid there on his chest and ran your hand through his dark, tousled curls, taking in his warm eyes and infectious smile as he stared up at you in awe.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked dreamily as you played with an out of place curl, gently running your fingers across his scalp.

“How I’m gonna get to call you Mrs. Miller,” he said with a sideways smile as a smirk etched the edge of his mouth, making him look that much more handsome.

“Why don’t you practice now?” you asked flirtatiously.

“Okay. Mrs Miller…” he whispered. “Or how about Alyson Miller?” he asked with a breathtaking smile.

“I like the sound of that. Actually, I love that. I love the way you say my name. The way it just rolls off your tongue without any hesitation. You just make it so melodic,” you replied in a dreamlike state.

“Alyson…” he said with a breathy, drawn out voice. Making your thighs squeeze tighter around him as he lit a fire deep inside you.

“Keep going,” you begged as you got closer to his lips. Just an inch from tasting him.

“Alyson…my love, my everything.”

And then you were on him as you dug your fingers into his messy curls and connected with his lips, tasting sweet coffee again as you got lost in his fresh mahogany scent. After a few minutes of kissing and showing him affection, he pulled you into his side as you wrapped an arm around his chest and placed your legs over his, getting comfortable against him.

“I can’t believe I get to marry you,” you said in a daze as his hand covered yours, slowly entwining his fingers with yours.

“I can’t believe it either, sweetheart. I’m just so happy that you’re mine. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” he said with a sigh as he kissed your temple.

“You’re incredible,” you whispered into his ear. “I want you to know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t just stop and go, God, I love Joel Miller,” you said with a smile pressed against your lips.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to ask you. You know I told Ellie I was gonna marry you?”

You turned your head and looked at him with wide eyes. “When did you tell her that?”

“A few months ago. I’m just glad she didn’t say anything. I swore her to secrecy. You know she helped too. With the flowers. She was so excited when I told her what I was planning. Had her jumping up and down. That girl is a mess,” he laughed as he gently placed another kiss on your cheek.

He knew for months he wanted to marry you and planned it for that long? Wow… he really was incredible.

“I love you, Joel. You’re everything I could’ve wished for and more,” you said as you held back tears.

“Oh, Alyson. And you’re my everything. My favorite person, the love of my life. I’m never ever letting you go, sweetheart.” He placed a tender kiss across your lips and then pulled you in close as you closed your eyes and breathed him in. Your sweet, gentle lover. Yours.

You laid in the bed of lilacs and violets for several minutes as you took in all the sights around you. Soaking up the sunshine, memorizing every line on Joel’s body, getting lost in his warm brown eyes, and losing yourself in the delicious scents of budding flowers, pine cones, and mahogany. Taking it all in so you could remember this day as the best day of your life.

Joel ran his hand up and down your thigh slowly as his calloused fingers brushed up against your skin, making you sink into him even more. “You wanna stay here awhile?” he asked with a low drawl.

“Yeah, let’s just enjoy this. It’s peaceful out here, and I get you all to myself. Let’s stay here for a few hours, maybe watch the sunset go down. Doesn’t that sound romantic?” you asked in a sing-song voice, completely lost in the bliss.

“Whatever you want, darlin’. We can stay as long as you want,” he said as he drew a line of kisses down your neck, sending heat into the center of your body.

“I love you, Joel,” you whispered.

“I love you more, Alyson,” he said with a lull. And then you were covering yourself in him as both of you got completely lost in the other. Making love in a bed of lilacs as you confessed your undying love to each other over and over again.

And you did stay there till the sun set. You stayed there till you had nothing left to give as you laid tucked into his side with just his plaid shirt over you, basking in the scent of each other. You slowly watched the orange sunset as it lit up the sky with painted pink and deep purple colors as you got lost in his lips again, sinking into him like he was your lifeline. But he was. He was your everything, and you’d spend the rest of your life showing him just how much you loved him.

This is where you felt most at home. Wherever he was was where you wanted to be. And you’d follow him until the end of time. Show him day and night just how much you loved him. He was your guiding light, and you’d never let him burn out. Promising to keep him in the light forever. Your eternity.

Epilogue: Pt II

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