#i realize this is a problem i should work on but i dont know how to so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was the first site to host the blog for President Barack Obama in 2011.

#i realize this is a problem i should work on but i dont know how to so

rrxnjun · 11 months

Text

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.

1K notes · View notes

kings-highway · 2 months

Text

Haikyuu ships ranked by how well I think they'd handle long distance:

1. Ushijima x Tendou. Duel autism "oh I forgot I haven't spoken to you in a week" works out so well. neither of them take it personally, theyre both so busy they dont even notice the time going by. They might not have any other friends but distance and time doesnt matter. Tendou sends a text at 12 in the afternoon and gets Ushijima's heart emoji back at 3am and thats totally normal. Ushijima visits for Valentines day and they fck like rabbits before he flies out again 72 hours later and Tendou forgets to call him for 2 weeks afterwards. They mail gifts back and forth but Ushijima couldnt answer for the life of him if asked what Tendou's schedule was. Everyone else hates how unbothered they are. It doesnt even cross their minds to be jealous or worried.

2. Oikawa x Iwaizumi. They've known each other so long that slipping into a long distance relationship thats literally a 12h difference is so easy. Schedules sync up immediately. Breakfast skype, dinner phone call, facetime movie nights and its basically like neither left. Their only problem is that neither can afford an in-person visit for like 18 months and that gets them down a bit but they compensate with an obscene amount of phone sex. Honestly, after spending all day every day together, this is a goddamn blessing since now they have new stories the other doesnt already know. Iwaizumi is a little on edge whenever Oikawa mentions some new friend he's made but overall they both trust each other.

3. Everyone else, should the situation arise

4. Kageyama x Hinata. Hinata goes to Brazil and Kageyama loses his goddamn mind. They CANNOT sync up their schedules for the life of them. Neither of them are comfortable being flirty over the phone and neither of then can afford to visit each other. They leave so many voicemails begging to arrange a time to call and they ALWAYS assume the other is mad at then when they dont answer texts even tho they should reasonable realize its like 2 am when they sent it for the other person. They make this everyone else's problem. Suga has to block Kageyama's number because he keeps calling to ask if he thinks Hinata has forgotten about him. Hinata hasn't forgotten about him, he's just on the other side of the world crying because he thinks Kageyama hates him for leaving. They're both idiots.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fandon #haikyuu ships #ushiten #ushijima x tendou #iwaoi #oikawa x iwaizumi #kagehina #kageyama x hinata

315 notes · View notes

ofbreathandflame · 6 months

Text

ive realized that nesta antis seem to fundamentally misunderstand how and why the intervention is abusive. no one is arguing that the ic is initially obligated to help - or at least, thats not what the argument is.

the ic is not responsible for nesta - feyre is not obligated to help nesta; that portion i absolutely agree with. the problem was - and always has been - that the ic personally put themselves in charge of nesta. they don't suggest - they demand. they couldve have literally just cut nesta off - and that would have been their right.

nesta is forced to go to the house of wind. she cannot leave by herself unless she has a chaperone. she cannot decide what she eats, what she wears, and who can visit her. she is forced to work in the library, she is forced to train in a foreign land. her clothes were already packed delivered to the house of wind before she attended the meeting -- before she even formally gave a response. her house WAS TORN DOWN BY THE TIME THE MEETING HAD EVEN STARTED. they had already made the decision before she could make it for herself. they personally put themselves in charge of her well being. feyre told nesta that if she had to be TIED UP AND FORCIBLY TAKEN to the house of wind - she would. that is not a choice. they then repeadedly ask HER TO DO COURT DUTIES AND INTENTIONALLY USE elain to force nesta into action. AND THEY DONT PAY HER FOR THIS. SHE STILL HAS TO GO RIGHT BACK TO THE HOW.

they literally deemed her too mentally ill function in society, to live by herself -- but sure lets send on her these missions (and she is then sexually assaulted TWICEEE).

yall - thats not legal by even our standards. in many ways its written much worse than tamlin's scene in maf bc the story justifies itself.

you cant argue that the ic is not responsible for nesta when THEY DECIDED to intervene. at that point, nesta IS their responsibility. she literally has to depend on them to eat, sleep, live, and work. they take measures to make her completely dependent on them. she has to sleep in the house of wind with cassian, even though she explained that she wanted nothing to do with him.

like if you dont like nesta - good on you. but this idea that we should always rely on this "we know what they meant" is so annoying bc nesta literally almost DIES bc cassian literally ignored and watched nesta waste away JUST LIKE TAMLIN DID. no one noticed that she was terrified of the sound of wood crackling - she just sat there and endured it. and everyone called her a bitch about it. and the fact that maf uses these same scenario to call out tamlin but not cassian reiterates the problem with this series. these topic are nothing outside of how you can continually justify your favs. it doesnt take much to see how cassian and tamlin literally do the same things , yet ive not seen one meta from that side earnestly discussing it bc "nesta is difficult" very nasty behavior is you ask me.

#anti sjm #anti feyre #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti inner circle #anti feysand #anti acosf #anti sjm: pro nesta #anti sjm: pro nesta archeron

389 notes · View notes

currentfandomkick · 13 days

Text

Prompt:

Desiree overhears bruce wish for a do-over with his robins.

Said robins end up aged down and only with those memories of when they first were acknowledged as Robin by Bruce. Anything after? Gone.

Now Dick is 8 ready to destroy these people stealing his mom’s nickname for him. Yes he is deranged and feral. Yes he is assaulting Damian the most, as the kid also attacks him. He’s also certain Damian is mew to the states too and annoyed he cant understand the kid.

Jason is 12 and dealing with a Lot of homeless kid truama and whiplash of rich place and who are these other kids and why is the tiniest one trying to kill the second tiniest? Stop that! (Jason, the most responsible somehow) Damian listens to him best without the use of orders. (Only way to get Damian to listen otherwise) and is working on teaching Damian about how the states and Gotham work. Jason is the Great Culture Teacher, and hoarding food stashes and go bags everywhere. Just in case. Yes he has some for everyone and is only a little upset his peer Tim vanished before he could give him his.

Tim is 12 too, realized Batman had Jason Right There and fucked off back home to see what happened timeline wise. He decided to visit his apparent step-mom, Dana, and gets to meet his apparent(?) boyfriends (deal’s choice, just have there be two for Tim’s confusion as ‘i pulled not one but two hot boys? How?) reasons. Tim is Learning what he did in the last 6 years and is questioning how his older self stopped with a semi-regular sleep schedule and.. had no spleen? Dana, can we get that checked for me that mine’s still there and if i keep it? Yay. Oh, this should last a few months? Okay! He can work from home online and have Lucius handle the meetings—why was he made a teen CEO again?

Stephanie? Is the oldest at 15, and is baffled by the whole situation. She goes to see Oracle and handles patrols under Babs’ eye with a confused Cass. Yes Stephanie is mad at Tim and believes he was cheating on her at this time, but knows the Tim she saw was smaller. And this is in the future from her POV. She’s still mad. Also the least likely to cause problems on patrol atm as she’s already trained and threatened to break out Spoiler if he tries to stop her. Her favorites and Damian (he gets killing should be an option, but needs to work on his selection process) and Jason, who Gets being a poor kid. Dick stops attacking her on sight but is a savage and insults her form. He ranks below Tim due to proximity, and the fact this is a Tim before they dated.

Damian? Back maybe 2 years, to the mindset of ‘if i dont kill my predecessor, i am unworthy of my role by Father’s side.’ Problem: he and Dick are fighting (both initiate) and Alfred and Jason (when did his zombie guard get so small?) are the only ones able to separate them successfully. He is not allowed on Patrol, but Brown is as she’s able to run solo otherwise and Father has recruited her using Robin. Father has explicitly forbade attacking her in the manor, cave or otherwise on property, and forbid killing. Brown is the only one besides him questioning this, even if it’s mostly over comms… and he is absolutely working on learning magic to undo this spell and return to his rightful place damnit!

Bruce has Many Regrets about that wish. And hates magic

Meanwhile Danny is trying to work out which wishes of Desiree’s are safe to undo, as apparently her last spree included taking out Joker, who was well overdue for that, and helping a lot of families reunite. He’s not undoing that. But also she did help gorilla grodd take over a city. He. He’s gonna need help, isn’t he?

#long post #dpxdc #robins deaged #bruce is tired #danny is stressed #not ghost king au #dpxdc prompts

156 notes · View notes

luvrxbunny · 7 months

Note

I need something borderline illegal. Like dark and twisted. Like I want to question my moral compass but read on.

Am I asking for dad’s best friend!Joel? pshhhhhh. Am I asking for bratty! reader?? Pshhhhhh. Am I asking for anything???

Am I asking for smutty smut?! Yes I am.

Ofc if you are uncomfortable with any of these don’t hesitate to ignore this and also no pressure ily ❤️

a/n: reader isn't bratty, im sorry! i forgot :((

sleep

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!virgin!reader

summary: Joel can’t stay away from you any longer.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, voyeurism/somnophilia + dub-con, dry humping, cum in pants

wc: 4.0k

a/n: i hope this is dark enough!! the only reason the ask is a ss instead of the actual thing is cus i formatted the whole story then realized i forgot to put it in the reply to the ask (loosely proofread)

It’s 2 am and Joel can’t stop thinking about you. How you’re sleeping soundly in his room, in his bed, in his shirt as pajamas because you had “forgotten to pack some”, something you both knew was a lie. He knows you’re toying with him, you started a bit before, but since you’ve turned 18? It's just been on rapid fire.

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through your text thread, scoffing at every other conversation. It was so apparent, in every text, how badly you want him.

Mon, Aug 16 at 4:41 AM

bbg: big man! text me when u wake up i have a joke

You: Why are you awake at this time?

bbg: wtf why are YOU awake 🤨

You: I have trouble sleeping, you know that.

bbg: aww poor joey 😢

You: Are you going to answer my question, darling?

bbg: im doing skincare and stuff

You: You have to wake up this early for that stuff?

bbg: can’t put a price on feeling bonita

You: Why are you speaking Spanish now?

bbg: nevermind lmao

bbg: so have u tried meditation

You: What?

bbg: for your sleeping troubles

You: I’m not that kind of guy.

bbg: what about getting off

You: Excuse me?

bbg: like masturbation n stuff

You: I know what you’re saying.

You: I don’t understand why you’re talking about this with me.

bbg: we haven’t even talked about it 😭

bbg: obviously we can end the convo if ur uncomfy but its a very good way to fall asleep

He remembers needing a pause after he read that text for the first time. It had only been four months since your birthday and you were already drastically different. Joel never expected it, he always thought your feelings had already reached their limit but it turns out you were holding back because you weren’t of age. Now that you are… He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. His morals may not be strong enough for the thought of “ his best friend's daughter” to hold him back. He’s already rationalized himself out of the “daughter's best friend” thought. You’re not even going to school together anymore. Sarah lives on campus so you guys never see each other and you barely ever text.

You: I have not.

bbg: what? literally how?

bbg: you should

bbg: it totally works

You: That’s good to know.

You: Get back to your skincare, honey. I’ll message you later.

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:03 AM

bbg: joel?

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:37 AM

bbg: are you masturbating?

You: Sweetheart. You can’t ask me things like that. It’s not right.

bbg: u didnt answer! i got curious

You: Still.

bbg: i dont see the problem we’re both adults 🫢

You: Barely.

bbg: dont be mean

You: Do you need something

You: I said I’d text you later

bbg: wow no punctuation?

You: Busy

bbg: getting off?

He remembers staring at your text, unbelieving that you’d send him something like that, so forward, so dirty. He remembers the thought that you were joking. Obviously, you don’t expect him to say yes, that’s why you asked in the first place. Maybe his perverted mind was interpreting your behavior as flirting but you’re just being yourself around him. All these thoughts were swirling in his head but the feeling of his hand flying over his cock, pretending it’s yours, that you're in his ear whispering to him... That thought was stronger, that feeling was stronger.

You: Yes.

bbg: good. have fun, joey

He gets up for his fourth beer, hoping to drown the impure thoughts, starring you, that plague his mind. It’d be so easy to have you, you’ve been throwing yourself at him since you turned 17. He’s been ignoring it, adamantly. It wasn’t right, despite the age difference, the fact that you’re his daughter’s best friend and his best friend’s daughter. On top of that, you only just turned 18.

You’ve been staying at Joel’s for a month. He takes the guest room because you say that his bed is better. You haven’t gone home because your dad is still working on your birthday present/room renovations and he doesn't want you to see it until it’s done. He offered up Joel’s house to keep you, knowing his best friend wouldn't mind, unknowing that his best friend was corrupt for his daughter.

Joel was trying to ignore the way his body was heating up, still scrolling through the texts. He remembers that conversation perfectly. He remembers the adrenaline that was coursing through him as he confessed. He remembers how hard he came at your response. When thinking about this conversation he also remembers the guilt, it’s the most vivid emotion he remembers, usually. But the alcohol seems to be drowning that part out, and Joel scrolls on.

He finds a patch of texts that he actively avoids, usually. It’s picture after picture of you in the most adorable outfits in the most suggestive positions. There are plenty of you lying on your back, some with your head turned to show off your perfectly curved, unmarked, un-bitten, neck. There are a few where you’re sitting down with the camera angled up, giving Joel too many situations his head can come up with. Then there’s the worst one, his favorite- he doesn’t even know how you took this one. You’re sitting on your knees, hands rested on your thighs and you’re looking up at the camera with a shy smile.

There are two things about this photo that really fuck him up.

First, your smile, the way it lets him know that you’re trying to fuck him up, you know what you’re doing with this pose, this positioning, you’re even embarrassed by it, a little nervous about it but you still felt the need to take the photo, for him.

Second, the height, and the way the camera is positioned shows him that these photos were specifically crafted for him because the height the camera is at is exactly how he’d see you if you were on your knees like that for him.

You made sure that he noticed because the very next day, you needed him to tie a bow in your hair and instead of waiting for him to get off the couch you placed yourself on the ground, between his legs, in this pose. He had to hide his erection until you left and then fight the urge to get himself off in your room for the rest of the night.

He glances at his room door, you’re sleeping so soundly in there.

She wouldn’t even notice if someone went in there right now. She definitely wouldn’t notice me… Hell, as if she’d mind either way… I mean- Would she?

The alcohol clouds his thoughts, gives him bad ideas, and then convinces him that they’re good- this one being one of them. He grabs his almost-finished beer and heads to the fridge to grab a fifth one, knowing he’ll be in there for a while.

He does this sometimes, you look so peaceful when you sleep… it’s the only time he can admire you without putting all his relationships at risk. He reaches the door and turns the knob slowly to avoid creaking. He enters the room, his socks padding his footsteps, and the darkness gives him no shadow. He moves one of your tops off of his desk chair and turns it to face your sleeping figure while placing his beers down. You’re already bringing a smile to his face. You’ve got your face shoved into one of his pillows, your arm tucked under it, and your leg is pulled up to your waist, sticking out from under his tan comforter. You’re wearing one of his hoodies for sleepwear—

Fuck.

and it doesn’t look like you have anything on your bottom half. It’s a little cold in his room so little goosebumps have bloomed over your exposed skin. He takes a swig of beer, finishing his fourth as he examines you. Your face twitches for a moment, your eyebrows furrow, and your nose twitches like a rabbit before calming back down. He opens the other beer and fills his mouth with it, hoping that the alcohol stops the fluttering in his stomach while he drinks it down.

You shiver a bit but your leg doesn’t move, the goosebumps just become more prominent. His hand is reaching out for you before he can think, rubbing your calf gently to soothe and warm you up a bit. You let out a relieved sigh at his contact and your leg presses further into his warmth. He has to take a deep breath as his mind runs wild, convincing him that this is some sort of sign, that even in you’re sleep you’re trying to be closer to him, that he should just give in.

No, she’s your best friend's daughter. Sure she’s her own person now, legally an adult, an’ can make decisions for herself… an’ yeah she’s not owned or controlled by anyone and just cause I’m friends with her father ain’t a fair reason to completely rule her out from being a potential partner… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… maybe it’s actually more fucked up for me to avoid her just cause of who birthed her. That’s totally not fair to her! I mean I know I wouldn't want anyone judging me based on who my parents are y’know? Maybe I should put myself in her shoes.

His breathing speeds up as he breaks through his last piece of resistance. Now he’s just trying to figure out how soon he can have you.

I’ll have to court her first, flirt with her a bit before asking her out to dinner, then maybe she’ll accept my offer to be my girlfriend by the third date… From there maybe she’ll have sex with me for the three-month anniversary… she might be a bit more timid than that but we’re looking at a four- five-month plan… That can work- I can definitely work with that.

You whine and stretch your body, your legs straighten and your arms spread out, you turn and rest one arm on top of your head before you lift your leg, bending it above your waist but with the other one this time. The new position leaves the blanket covering nothing but one of your inner thighs and to add insult to injury your raised arms lift his hoodie, revealing a beautiful sliver of your stomach.

Or I could have her now.

The thought is too powerful to stop, his opportunity is too perfect, Ellie is out with whatever girl she’s currently entertaining, and Sarah doesn’t live here anymore. Your father would never be awake at this time and Joel is hard, wanting, and so so ready for you. He’s crawling into bed beside you after downing half his beer for the nerves.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

He settles next to you and your leg presses into him again, searching for him and his warmth. You slowly turn to him as he stares at you, watching how sluggish your movements are in your sleep. You snuggle into the pillow in front of him and take a long inhale of its scent, a little smile resting on your lips while you breathe out. Your face is inches from his, and his hand is down his pants in an instant.

The relief is heavenly, he’s been throbbing for you since he read those texts. He can’t help the way he reacts to you. He can smell your toothpaste on your breath as you gently snore in front of him. He wraps his warm hand around his cock and his soft lips part into an ‘O’. His eyes roll back for a second but he immediately focuses them back on you. He’s tugging at himself violently, not even thinking about savoring this moment, just needing to cum for you. He’s trying to hold in his sounds but you look so pretty, just seeing your face while he’s touching himself makes everything better, somehow you’ve turned his sensitivity as high as it can go.

Little whines and whimpers slip into your dream state. You’re confused by the sound, the rustling that coming from—? In front of you? Your brows furrow as you try to open your eyes. “Fuck” You hear someone say. It sounds like…

You open your eyes just in time to see Joel yank his hand out of his sweatpants and scramble as far as he can get from you before falling off the bed. You’re still confused as you take his form in. His shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing the salt and pepper hairs on his tummy. His hair is sticking all over the place, he stinks of beer, and his eyes are wide, focused on you. “Joey?”

Despite the horrid situation he’s in, his cock is still leaking for you, pulsing at the nickname. He can’t answer, he has to bite back a moan as he feels himself leak into the fabric of his pants. “Joel? What—” Your eyes flutter, almost falling shut but you shake yourself out of it and— Fuck.

You move closer to him.

You’re too snuggly when you’re sleeping, too cute, and too dumb. You’re not even questioning why your father’s best friend was in bed with you while you were sleeping. You don't want to risk him leaving and you don’t mind in the first place, you actually thought you were dreaming at first. Your heart almost stopped when your fingers actually latched onto his shirt after reaching out for him. He’s stiff as a board, deterring your touch so you pull your hands into your chest and bury your face in his.

Joel is almost shaking in exertion as you press your soft little body against his. It’s just your upper half, leaning into him and finding wam solace in his chest. He can handle this, he thinks. He can calm down, and be with you like this. He’s supposed to court you first anyway, he can’t believe himself. Was he really going to just get off with you in the same bed? What kind of pervert would even try something like that?

You hike your leg up over his waist, half asleep, not realizing your motions.

All his perverted feelings return with a vengeance.

You wiggle around a bit, trying to get comfortable but his cock twitches, flicking into your soft lips for a moment. At first, you really didn’t know what it was, all you knew was that the sensation felt good. So of course you chased it. Your hips grind into his cock arrhythmically, trying to find that same angle again, not realizing that you’re basically fucking him through your clothes. His hands have to come to your hips, gripping painfully for your eyes to snap open and your hips to freeze.

Your eyes widen further when you finally process the situation, and even in all your teasing and sensuality, at the end of the day, you’re still just a virgin. You never had any real intention of acting on your desires, especially if Joel wasn’t the one initiating.

Oh fuck. What did I do? What do I do? He’s just staring at me… Maybe he didn’t notice, I didn’t! But it felt so good. Will he let me? Maybe if I—

Your hips tilt into his before you can process whether this is actually a good idea or not. His hand tense over yours, like another shock of clarity through your bones. You shut your eyes tight, not wanting to see the disgust or uncomfortable pity in his face. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I didn’t… I-”

You try not to let tears well in your eyes as you whimper and pull back from him. But he doesn’t let you. His arms tense, his muscles flexing as he keeps your body pressed against his. You open your eyes, a bit shocked at his refusal to let you go but still too scared to meet his eyes. Your gaze is on his stomach, the way his gray shirt rode up, exposing the way his belly keeps tensing with every breath. “I-” He manages to get out before letting out a shuddering sigh. You finally look at him.

His eyebrows are pulled taut in between his eyes, his gaze is something you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks angry. It’s desperate, but sorrowful, with the added haze from his intoxication. He keeps biting at his bottom lip, worrying it red as he tries to form a sentence for you. His hands tense over your hips again but this time they tilt you into him again. His face is a hard grimace as he slowly presses you into his raging bulge. You watch him fight with his expression, it keeps breaking into something weak before he goes back to his angry pout. You can’t help the way you press into him, you want to feel it again, that fire in the pit of your stomach that spreads to your soaking pussy the more he pulls you in. You watch his face contort into something heavenly. His brows pull up, almost shocked at how good you feel as his eyes roll back and shut. His entire body shakes as he melts into the pillow. He’s breathing deep and slowly, trying to regulate the pleasure he feels.

Now he’s focused on savoring the moment. He wants this to last as long as it possibly can. You’re making him feel incredible, he’s so sensitive, it’s like he’s been edging himself for you. You whimper, high-pitched and muffled but it’s so beautiful that he forces his eyes open. You have one hand gripping the bedsheet like it’s your lifeline and you have the other bitten between your teeth to hold your sounds in. Your hips are grinding into him at an uneven, unsteady, desperate pace and he’s mesmerized by the sight.

He knew you wanted him. He didn’t know you needed him. You’re fucking yourself against his cock like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life. Your hand comes up to grip his shoulder instead of the bedsheet. He grunts and tilts his hips further into yours, a sadistic smirk coming to his face at the sound of exclamation that shoots from your mouth once you’re able to grind your clit against his shaft. Your thrusts start to stutter at that, your body constantly wanting to fold in on itself from the assault of pleasure but you try and will yourself to keep going.

Unfortunately, your pace is ruined by your pleasure. Your sensitive body can’t handle how good his clothed cock is making you feel. You lose your pace and your pleasure becomes rocky and teasing. He watches as your face changes from pleasured to pouty. Little whimpers and whines of frustration slip from your lips, growing in volume and frequency the longer you’re unable to grind against him properly. Joel’s watching you through hooded eyes, fingers digging into your hips painfully at this point and all he wants is to not cum yet. He wants to make you cum first, he needs it, he needs to see it, to hear it.

He’s been telling himself it’s fine because you’re grinding against him, not the other way around. You’re choosing this, there’s no way he’s manipulating you, or swaying your decision if he stays completely indifferent. But you’re begging him now. You’re gripping desperately at his shirt, removing your hand from your mouth to grip him harder and pulling yourself closer, wrapping your arms around and moaning right against his chest. He shouldn’t. He can’t. But he does.

His eyes shut tight as his hands leave your hips. You almost climb on top of him in protest, whining a loud “N- Please.” into his chest as your leg hikes higher onto his waist. One of his hands cradles your head, pulling you further into his chest, muffling the moans you’re already letting out at his touch. His other hand goes to the small of your back, pressing you against him perfectly and guiding your rhythm as your hips start up again. He dares to speak. “S’this okay, baby?”

Your reaction to his voice is visceral. Your hands shoot up to his shoulder and hair, pulling yourself up a bit to bury in his neck, getting a new angle from his cock, now fucking him against your leaking hole. “So good, Joey. Thank- Thank you s’much. Thank you, thank you.” Your gratitude is like a searing knife through him. His entire body is set alight as he tries to regulate his breathing. He can feel goosebumps break out on his skin, his pleasure filling every molecule in his body, ready to overflow for you. Fuck. He’s definitely going to cum before you.

“Mm. Good, good girl. Just- Keep going, sweetness, take what— Shit. Take what you need, darlin’.” His breathing quickens and shudders as your hips increase their pace against him. He’s leaking continuously now, he’s getting in his head, trying to stop himself from cumming but every thought that pops into his mind just brings him closer to the edge. He can’t focus on anything but you. You’re moaning for him, grinding against him, this desperate for him.

The hand on your lower back migrates to the back of your neck, gripping you there, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust into yours. “M’gonna cum, darlin’. Fuck, I wanted t- wanted to last for y- Mmm oh fuck.” His entire body starts to tremble as your nails dig into him so painfully he’s sure they drew blood. Your eyes are comically wide as your body tenses in his hold before breaking down into a shudder that overtakes your entire being. You’re cumming.

He explodes at the realization. In all his desperation, intoxication, and pure need… He was still able to make you cum first. He buries his face in your hair, huffing the scent as he floods his sweatpants. His eyes shut as tightly as they can as his orgasm tears through him. He’s been waiting so long for you to make him cum and now that it’s happening, it feels even better than he planned for. His low grunts turn into shocked moans when his orgasm doesn’t stop after shooting two ropes of cum against his sweats. You’re already coming down as he hits what feels like his second peak. You can feel his hands shaking over where they’re gripping you and you get an impulse that you act on without a second thought.

Your hand slides down from his shoulder quickly, over the sliver of stomach he’s showing off, and right down his pants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you just grip him, wrapping your hand around his shaft but it seems to do the trick. He lets out a sound that resembles someone getting kicked in the gut. His face is pulled from your hair as his head is thrown back. He arches into you a bit before his hips start thrusting into your fist, desperately prolonging his already overwhelming orgasm. It’s embarrassing; how long he was cumming for, the way his body was violently quivering for you, the ludicrously large dark spot spreading over his pants, showcasing how much he came for you.

He moans gently when he comes to. You’re stroking over his chest with a soft, sleepy, nervous smile. He pulls you in for a kiss before he can think about it. You guys haven’t discussed anything. Neither of you knows what this means for your relationship but you know that neither of you has felt more comfortable than when you’re in the arms of the other. So why question it now?

You fall into a deep sleep listening to Joel’s heavy snores, getting rocked to bed by the way his chest expands. It’s the best sleep of your life.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

psst psst. hey you!! i have a part 2 if u want 😏

327 notes · View notes

biblio-smia · 5 months

Note

more ethan requests you say??? dont mind if i do🙏

maybe studying w ethan for school but he keeps getting distracted by readers lip gloss and her lowcut shirt and eventually r notices and is like " :( poor bby" and a make out session(and hj???) ensues

ur the best ily MWAH

hi ily thank you for the request 🫶 making out but no nsfw!

"Okay, so..." You start working through a problem, Ethan picking up his pen to follow along. Both of your pens work down sheets of paper, but your conversation has wandered away from math and onto other things. Ethan has just made you laugh when he makes the mistake of looking to his left at you - and his focus on the work in front of him completely breaks.

You look as gorgeous as you ever do and your lips, pulled up in a smile as you look at Ethan, are coated with shiny color. His eyes linger on you even as you turn back towards your notebook and Ethan has to force his eyes back, too.

But that shirt you're wearing is making it very, very difficult.

Ethan shakes his head to clear it, willing himself to bring himself back into the conversation you're currently having with yourself. He smiles when you start to tease him for his forgetfulness; most recently, how he showed up half an hour late to a hangout because he forgot which train to take.

"Okay, it was one time!" Ethan insists with a scoff (though he bites back a smile).

"And how many times have you gotten lost this year?"

Ethan groans.

"Okay, this month?"

Ethan gives you a look while he watches you laugh. He can't even pretend to be annoyed when you look like that. "You're cruel."

"You love me."

"I do."

You smile, looking at Ethan shyly. It's not often that he's the one making you flustered, a certain pride in your chest knowing that you usually hold that power. But sometimes, Ethan's honesty gets you worked up in the worst way - mostly because Ethan isn't even aware he's doing it.

You hit his shoulder lightly. "Focus." And you're back to your notebook, but Ethan's pen doesn't move.

"Hey, you were getting me off-topic," he protests, trying to pay attention to the paper in front of him.

"It's not my fault you can't multi-task," you call.

Ethan grumbles. "I can totally multi-task."

He really can't.

It's quiet for a while, but it's comfortable. Ethan will occasionally hear you hum or mumble something under your breath as the two of you work and he lets himself look, just take a glance.

That was his biggest mistake.

Ethan watches your face scrunch in concentration, watch you bite your bottom lip.

He turns back to his notebook quickly, but it's too late. All he can think about is what your lip gloss tastes like.

A few minutes (probably a few seconds, but it feels like minutes to Ethan) pass and Ethan can't help another glance.

This time, you're resting an arm on Ethan's desk and you're pressing yourself close - to get a better view of your homework, Ethan's sure, but the angle you're in brings his attention to the low cut of your shirt.

Ethan feels blood rush through his body and he pulls his eyes away, face warm and red. He glances at your face, just to check if you've noticed his staring. You haven't, thank god, and Ethan can't help but steal one more look before turning back to his notebook.

Oh, he is so done for.

He's trying to block out distraction, trying to focus back on his work. He's blocked you out, too, in the process - Ethan doesn't realize you're talking to him until you're shaking his shoulder.

"Ethan," you groan. "Are you on 12e yet?" Your arm has wound around Ethan's, your chin coming to rest on his shoulder to take a look at his work. "Ethan! You're not even on number five yet?"

You sigh, separating from Ethan and turning back to your paper. You're on your own.

Ethan misses the contact immediately, scooting his chair over to wrap his arms around your waist. "I can still help," Ethan offers, eyes finding 12e and reading through the problem.

"No," you sigh. "I should do it on my own."

Ethan frowns, pulls you around to face him. "I can just do it for you," he grins. He'd really like for you to forget all about your homework.

You giggle. "Very sweet, but you can't take my tests for me."

Ethan sighs. "I wish I could."

There's really no way you can look away from him now.

"You're cute." You cup Ethan's face with one of your hands, the other resting on his chair, next to his leg, to support yourself as you lean forward. Ethan shifts as you lean in, swallowing thickly as you get dangerously close to your face. Your lips look even prettier up close and Ethan stares until the very last second, only shutting his eyes when he feels your shiny lips on him. The kiss is soft and quick and it leaves a little bit of sticky residue on his lips.

"Sorry," you laugh, trying to wipe off the transferred lip gloss. Ethan blinks hazily as your hand holds his chin, thumb rubbing his lip.

"'S okay," he mumbles out.

You're so close he's getting dizzy. Ethan gulps. His face brightens. You can feel his cheeks warm from under your fingers and you look at him curiously.

"What's wrong?" You ask curiously.

Ethan burns. "N-nothing." Very convincing.

You tilt your head and you look so perfect. Ethan sighs. "You're just... so pretty."

"Really?" There's a little humor in your voice. You're not wearing anything special today, just casual jeans and a shirt. You look down at your outfit to see if it's somehow changed between the time you got dressed to now but you don't see anything particularly extraordinary.

But you can tell you won't be getting any work done, not when you've somehow becomes the biggest obstacle between Ethan and homework.

"Aw," you grin, taking Ethan's face in your hands. "Would a kiss make you feel better?" You offer with a grin Ethan can't see.

Ethan smiles shyly. "Please?"

How could you refuse?

You kiss Ethan slowly, though they don't stay that way for long. Each kiss grows in intensity and his eyelashes flutter when you kiss him again, deeper than last time. You tilt his head and he makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Your lips are off his and leaving sticky kisses on Ethan's face (though, by now, more of your lip gloss is on him than it is on you). Ethan is looking at you desperately, pulling you in for another open-mouthed kiss, giving you a chance to place your tongue in his mouth.

Ethan makes another sound and the next time your lips disconnect, the both of you are breathing heavily.

You thumb at Ethan's lips again, admiring the little bit of shine left on them.

Ethan's eyes flutter shut again, lips parting slightly, but your fingers on his lips make his eyes open immediately.

"That's due tomorrow," you whisper, motioning to the abandoned work.

Ethan groans.

masterlist | requests are open!

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry #scream #scream x reader #scream fanfiction #v + ethan #v writes

228 notes · View notes

antimony-medusa · 9 months

Note

hi saw your daddy kink post discussing the phenomenon of giving grown characters surrogate parental relationships, and I understand where you’re coming from, but i really feel like it’s just a matter of the circles you run in, and the assumptions that you might make because of that. you mention how platonic reads of these dynamics are more uncommon than kinky reads, which i just don’t think is the case, and I think that arguing that people don’t even realize that they’re writing a kink is a little bit bizarre, and sort of assumes that you know more abt them than they do by projecting your own experiences onto them.

it isn’t inherently sexual to crave protection or a parental relationship that you may have missed out on, and it is certainly not universal. in my own family, my “grandpa” isnt my biological grandfather (nor do I really consider him to be my grandfather), but he’s my mother’s surrogate father and has been since she was in her twenties. an adult. he sees her as a daughter. she sees him as a father. there’s absolutely nothing kinky about it. and anybody who automatically assumes that must have their mind deep, deep in the gutter and/or the stranger side of the Internet. really, i find it a bit of a strange argument to randomly post in the first place—as if it’s a problem that so many people enjoy non romantic and non sexual relationships, and that these people must, in fact, have a daddy kink that they are unaware of.

that said, i do absolutely agree that fans bringing any part of that into phil’s chat is weird and they should Not do that, and that infantilizing characters is also very weird, and personally i dont even see him as being father figure to anybody on that island except his eggs, wilbur, and MAYBE an argument could be made for tubbo (which other cc’s on the island have joked about), but to each their own and all that.

sorry this is so long. TLDR, i get where ur coming from in terms of “warning , some people might read your stuff differently than you want here” but really not everything is a kink and paternal dynamics can easily happen in regards to adult characters, particularly young adults, without there being any inappropriate connotations. i know nothing i said will change your mind, obviously it’s set, but ykno diff perspectives and all that. hope ur doing well

Thank you for the ask! I see you were on mobile, I believe. :D I am also going to push the character limit with this response, I fear.

I agree that it isn't inhernetly sexual to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, and there are many such cases. I'll even go so far as to say that it's not inherently kinky to go after a parental relationship that you missed out on, because there is such a thing as non-sexual kink, and heaven knows that MCYT writing is full of non-sexual kink. Lots and lots of stuff that is platonic that is kinking on fear, or being drugged, or kidnapping, or hypnosis, or familial relationships, etc— there's lots of people who aren't doing that. There are tons of people out in the real world (and in fiction), who are simply just expanding their family as an adult, and that's awesome. When I was in college there was this older couple who kind of adopted me and invited me over for thursday dinner, and they were awesome. There was nothing untoward going on there.

But look. I am an emduo fan who likes to see my guys be murdery, and because of that, I've ended up reading a bunch of Dark SBI. I've ocassionally gone "this cannot be what everyone is doing" and I've read stuff tagged as "family fluff" that I find recommended. I am aware of where the genre is going, particularly with the rise of "dadbur" and "dadnoblade" interpretations.

And look, you have just got to trust me on this one. People are writing stuff that in any other fandom I would be recommending they put kink tags on the work so that people who liked that trope could find it and people who didn't like it would avoid it, but that comment in DSMP would just lead to people getting doxxed, so I just grit my teeth and go "i guess that's baked into Dark SBI or Tooth Rotting Fluff now, I sure hope that doesn't hit anybody's triggers".

Like I PROMISE you. The first draft of this response included excerpts of fics that I've read and I was like "can YOU pick the ship fic from the /p fics here"? But I have a horror of ever leading to someone getting cancelled on twitter, so nothing that could possibly be identifiable of these writers. But like—

Some of the ways that Tommy gets treated in the narrative are almost indistinguishable from a bodice-ripper romance. Some of the tropes being used— within DSMP we've all clasped hands and agreed to interpret it being platonic, but in any other fandom, you are going to start getting comments that you might not want to get. The tag is FULL of stuff that is DD/LB in everything but name. Maybe my mind is in the gutter here, but if you move out of this fandom, you are going to move into circles where a lot of people's minds are in the gutter, and you are going to get a very different response from your comments!

And I was talking about daddy kink here specifically, because I see that one come up a lot and it's gotten egregious lately, but this also applies to dehumanization, and fearplay, and predator/prey, and "instincts" (in every other fandom that's gonna get people in a mashup of A/B/O, Hypnosis, and sometimes Agere responding to it), and kidnapping/drugging, AND the way a bunch of "piglin instincts" stuff is just a BDSM au now where the Brute (dom) needs to be callmed down by their Runt (sub). The SBI tag is super kinky right now. And I don't have a problem with that idealogically, write your truth, but a) please don't bring that up in front of the streamers, b) if you move to another fandom you have got to be prepared that not everyone is doing their kink platonically.

Like I'm assuming that people don't know what tropes they're playing into, they're just building them from first principles, because the other alternative is that they are deliberately and knowingly writing kink and posting it in the & relationship tag with insufficient trigger tags, and I prefer to believe that people don't know.

I'm glad we agree about people bringing that into Phi's chat, or Pol's, or Luzu, or any of the other streamers that people have decided is So Old. A lot of people aren't comfortable even being assigned dad, as we saw with Felps, so bringing it even further is just— uh oh, no.

I do not have a problem with people liking non-romantic and non-sexual relationships. I find it a bit odd that much of the fandom can't concieve of a non-romantic and non-sexual relationship without making it familial and specifically lately father-son— don't you have close friends?— but I am fully in support of gen writing. I primarily write gen! I'm an avid commentor on gen fics!

But some of the tropes at play in the fandom are kinky, there is no way to avoid that. The fact that they are set in a familial relationship doesn't negate that. Some of the ways that the DSMP characters get treated would be distinctly non-familial if you ever brought it out of that context. And I am just warning people, if you bring it out of that context, be prepared for the response you get.

You cannot take DSMP tropes and apply them one-to-one in other fandoms, with other streamers swapped in, and expect them to be read the same way. Like i'm sorry, but that's just true. If you are posting the same sort of stuff that for Cellbit & Phil that you would post for Tommy & Phil, people will assume that you have a daddy kink, because usually when a relationship between a adults that are actually similar in age is refered to with paternal language it's a kink thing. That is how the broader internet works. (And anon, if I had a daddy kink, would I be complaining about the fact that I can open any SBI fic and have about a 40% chance of hitting it and I'm seeing signs of this appearing in QSMP? I assure you I'm not "projecting [my] own experiences onto them" here.)

#long post #anon #discourse #ask #fandom meta

292 notes · View notes

mysicklove · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 // 𝐒𝐔𝐁! 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀 𝐱 𝐃𝐎𝐌! 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Warnings: Brat taming, biting/marking, fingering

Toga, for how adorable she is, is an absolute nightmare to dominate. But you should have know that the second you got involved with her.

She loves to push every button, loves to see how far you will go, loves to see your face contort when she's gone too far. She wants every ounce of your attention to be on her, no matter if its positive or negative.

Thus, you have to be strict. She needs someone who will watch her every move. Almost every word that falls from your mouth is command. “Stop.” “Keep going Himiko.” “Enough. Hey! I said enough.” “Cmon love, beg for it.”

She doesn't have any room for leeway. You give her an inch and she goes a mile. So, it's easier for her to sit back and obey, her mind seems to wander if she doesn't. Goes back to ways to get more and more attention.

She bites. It's a huge problem the two of you are working on. Marking problem, she's too possessive for her own good. Even with the commands she somehow always manages to get you covered with hickies and bite marks. The league always made fun of you for it.

You wince as she digs her teeth into your shoulder while she sits on your lap. For the last couple of minute you have been ramming your fingers into her cunt. Moans and high pitches whiles escape her lips, and she's stares at you with hearts in her eyes. She had that look in her eyes, you should have known something was coming.

“Himiko, did I say you could bite me?” You pull your fingers out and she whines, loud and dramatic.

“But it's so pretty! I love seeing my things all marked up!” She squeals with a massive grin on her face, a blush coating her cheeks. She begins rocking her hips to try to find your fingers again.

You sigh and run your other hand over the mark. Another scar most likely, but at least there was no blood this time. You look away from her, not giving her the satisfaction of your watchful gaze. “Did I say you could bite me?” You repeat, your tone more stern.

Silence. She shakes her head, smile dropping ever so slightly as she tries to make eye contact with you. She craves it.

“Speak, Himiko.” You scold, instead focusing your attention on your fingers caressing her neck.

“No…But-” At the hint of complaint you begin to slide her off your lap and her smile falls completely. This has happened many times before, but everytime it plays a massive effect on her.

She tries to scramble back into it, but you stand up completely, not looking at her. She kneels naked on the couch, eyes wide and panicked. “I don't play with girls who whine and complain. Who dont listen to simple commands.”

When you begin to walk away she clutches at your wrist. “Sorry! I’ll be good. I won’t whine and complain, I'll listen! Please just touch me!” You raise your eyebrows and turn back to her.

She has to hide her smile when she meets your eyes again, the blush is not hidden though. You can see right through her.

But even so, you can't be upset. She always seems to be improving. The first time you turned your back on her she tackled you and threatened to murder you with a knife pressed to your throat. She realized very quickly that this tactic doesn't work, considering you aren't scared of her and are just as strong as she is. You refused to touch her for a couple of weeks after that.

Begging and apologies work. You give her a second chance, and that's it. She can toy and press your buttons, but after the first warning, she learns quickly that if she wants to feel good she has to listen.

So, you sit back down. Giggles and squeals come from the girl, which you don't even question anymore, as she crawls back into your lap. Your finger finds her hole again, and begins the repetitive motion of moving in and out. Maybe you were too forgiving, maybe you should have made her beg for it. But alas, you were feeling nice.

She shivers and rubs her forehead against yours with that wide almost eerie smile. You bring your other hand to her mouth, and she opens it for you. You run your thumb over her two sharp canines. “You are a lot of work, you know that darling?”

She giggles, knowing your teasing always is affectionate. “You love me,” She murmurs whimsically, her speech distorted with the thumb still running over her teeth. She licks the digit and you pull away with a small disgusted frown, while she laughs again.

You other thumb fingers her clit and the laugh turns into a whimper. You continue the ruthless pace and she gasps, a feral smile still plastered on her face. Her gaze falls back to the bite mark and you sigh knowing what's to come. “Can I? Can I please?” She whines, pushing her hips back into your fingers.

In this state, it was hard to say no to her. She was so cute like this, only chasing her own pleasure. “No biting, no blood. Only hickies, do you understand Himiko?”

“Yes!” She exclaims with a moan, before latching onto your neck, sucking and kissing the skin until it's red and bruised. You shut your eyes and take the girls ruthless mouth, used to this..

“I thought we were going to work on the marking thing.” You sigh, rubbing her hair affectionately, while continuing the pace that makes her whine and cry.

“B-But you are mine!”

“Yeah I know, but does the whole world have to know?” You mumble, trying to hold back a wince when her canines accidentally (or purposefully) graze your skin.

She tears away from the skin, face flushed and sweaty from the antics of your fingers. She has that look again, the look of a pure villain. Her eyes hazy and dilated, her mouth spread wide as she brings her hands to her face like a schoolgirl. You pause your motions.

“Yes! Should show the whole world that you belong to me! All mine!”

You can't help but smile back at that strange grin, that seems to draw you in. You lean forward and press your lips to hers.

“All yours, my love," You mumble against her lips. She opens her mouth, and giggles.

582 notes · View notes

dystychiphxbia · 9 months

Text

☆ - Gym crush! pt. 3

this sucked but im so busy with uni aaa

gn!reader

characters: isagi, reo, nagi

Isagi Yoichi:

this guy is new to the gym

he catches your eye, mainly because his form is horrifying at first

where did bro learn how to squat...

you try your best to help him!!

and wow he learns super fast

like...when one is new to the gym they usually progress fast but he's on another level...

you are honestly impressed

and he's so nice too??

except when he has progressed enough to attempt a pr...yeah it's the same level of focusment as when he's playing football

and he can get angry at you for bothering him

but he will always apologize afterwards and say that he just really needed to focus

he really enjoys your company...he was a blushing mess when you first approached him and he still struggles to keep his composure when your hands accidentally touch

always spots for you but first you have to teach him how to do it

definitely talks about you to his friends

they try to get him to ask you out but he always says that you are just his gym crush, no way you return his feelings (but you do)

and your thighs...he WILL be looking at them.

Mikage Reo;

now let's be real...this guy has his own personal gym for sure

but let's say one of his friends drag him to a regular gym....for plot reasons

rich boy is shocked

but you catch his attention...you are so elegant...you dont fit in with all the gym bros

now the problem is he wants to talk to you...would it be weird? can he just invite you to his gym instead?

he overthinks too much

you notice him too, he looks out of place and his gym etiquette is lacking

he forgets to rerack his weights and you immediately go remind him

"oh...im used to not having to rerack them at my own private gym...thanks for the heads up."

nah not the entitled rich boy

but you are a bit jealous...especially when you are waiting for the leg press to be free

reo hates working out in a packed gym but he just cant get you out of his mind even couple days later

his friend says you come often during the peak times and always seem pissed off about having to wait between machines...

so, he returns to the gym once more with a plan

and there you are....waiting for a free squat rack

you were quite surprised to see him...why would a rich boy with his own gym return to a regular gym during peak hours?

once you start racking your weights, reo comes up to you asking how many sets you have left

"bro. i just started. you saw me." "well lemme squeeze in between ur sets yeah?"

you dont like sharing. but the gym is packed. so you give in.

reo keeps talking to you and you realize that he's actually nice

sure he's rich and entitled and has no clue about how the life of a poor commoner is, but you enjoy talking with him

and the way he throws in a few flirts, and makes sure to compliment you...you are a goner

you end up doing your entire routine with him, getting to know him more

you can't help but notice the way he looks at you...and your body

by the end of the workout, he drops the big question

"wanna ditch this gym and workout at mine?"

he promises you can workout for free...ofc you say yes cause that means you can save money

so you save money and he gets to see you almost everyday...an ideal situation!

honestly in the end you care more about seeing reo than saving money...

Nagi Seishiro;

nah who got this man to the gym

again...let's say a friend forced him to come along...for plot reasons...

he does not want to be there

like yes he has his goals that he wants to achieve, but a packed gym is just too much

you see him occupying a machine you need for like 10 mins just being on his phone so you go up to him

he's confused but lets you have the machine, he wasn't really using it anyway

honestly he seems kinda lost

like he doesnt actually know what to do. since he was already dragged to the gym, he should do something useful but he doesn't know what

and you notice...and kinda feel bad for him...he looks like a lost puppy

so!! you help him out!!

you dont know much about football but you help him figure out what he should do at the gym to improve :)

he actually appreciates your help. and you see him come to the gym more and more

this is nagi we are talking about so it's a miracle that he actually keeps coming back

but the thing is that he really wants to see you!! you motivate him

you always smile so brightly when you see him. he just can't get enough of that smile.

everything is less of a hassle with you around!

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro

241 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

metal-and-machetes

Local Final Girl

palaceflower

behind these palace walls

exciteucbe4

Untitled

izzaza

energía angélica

nerdloser222

particle man