#⊹ · answered * . i mend the heart with practice

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (L)

Chapter 50 : ‘And I’d wonder sometimes if I’d ever find you.’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Our babies are getting married!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3526

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

If I Had Three Lives

If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two. The other? Perhaps that life over there at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir, maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably, a small apartment with a view of the river, and books — lots of books, and time to read. Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes, for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan, practice yoga. I’d go to art films, farmers markets, drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry. I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat and aftershave more than I did him. I’d walk the beach at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks water makes in sand. And I’d wonder sometimes if I’d ever find you.

Sarah Russell

Fuck traditions.

Fuck traditions and fuck you for wanting to respect this one.

Alright, maybe… just maybe Andrew was being a little overdramatic because he was tipsy and it was almost midnight, which meant that it was almost the day he would fucking marry you. But as he stared at the clock on the wall of the pub where he was celebrating his bachelor party, all he wanted was to go home and hold you, and kiss you, and fuck you senseless and then…

“Hey! Is our groom being a little nostalgic of good old celibacy over there?” Rory joked, nudging Andrew in the arm and making him laugh again.

“God no!” he answered. “I just… I’m tired, I think we should call it a day. Thank you all for tonight, it was good craic.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Alex grinned, satisfied that his simple plans had made his friend happy.

They hadn’t done anything crazy for their night together. They had spent some time playing some music, had eaten a nice dinner and then headed to a few pubs. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, but they had a lot of fun, and Andrew didn’t want to do anything crazy anyway. Alex had made sure they would all drink responsibly so they would be ready for the big day.

“Yeah, it was grand. Thank you, for planning all this for me.”

Alex was a little emotional when drunk, but still, Andrew was surprised when his best friend hugged him tight.

“I’m really fucking thrilled for you, you know that, right?”

Andrew merely chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. You must be relieved too, that I’m never going to mop around in your flat again…”

“You can’t imagine how relieved I am that you’ll spare me from now on.”

They both laughed, both of them trying to hide how emotional they truly were.

“I’ll be waiting for your call for me to be you best man soon enough…” Andrew teased his friend, making him roll his eyes.

“Argh… we’re not there yet.”

“You live together, you spend all your time together… last week, you were talking about babies…”

“Oh… Siobhán’s the one, don’t get me wrong. I just… we’re good as we are for now. Although… I’m sure I’ll be the next one celebrating the end of celibacy…”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I’m happy for you.”

Alex gave him a grin.

“And who knows… we’re thinking about a baby… maybe you’ll have a call to be godfather too!”

Andrew tried to hide his teary eyes, failed miserably at it.

“I would be honoured.”

“Good. Cause Y/N would obviously be the godmother so… would be easier.”

“You really imagined for a second that I would say no?”

Alex laughed.

“No, no! I knew you’d say yes. I’m just… happy to hear it. But we’re not there yet! So don’t get all excited!”

“I already am!”

“You’re such a sap…”

“Always.”

“Come on, time to go home,” John proclaimed as he got up, and pulled his younger brother by the sleeve. “I’m taking you home.”

“Wait, I’m gonna call Y/N before we go.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow! You said you were respecting the ‘not seeing the bride the night before the wedding’ thing.”

“Calling her is not seeing her.”

John rolled his eyes, but he was fondly smiling at his brother too.

“You are addicted to her, huh? She got you wrapped around her finger…”

“She’s my fiancée… what did you expect?”

“In less than 24 hours, she’ll be your wife.”

Stars and tears shone in Andrew’s eyes.

“Yeah… yeah…”

“Come on, call her, then! I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Everyone gathered for one last bit of joking around, and then Andrew bid his friends goodnight. While everyone was heading home, he pulled out his phone to call you.

You answered on the third ring, you wore a smile on your voice.

“Baby! How are you? Where are you now?”

“Hey, honey,” he answered with a smile on his voice too, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it, not to you… never to you… “I’m outside a pub… I’m going to head to my parents’ now, John didn’t drink and he’s driving. But… I just wanted to call before going to sleep. You’re alright? How was your evening?”

“It was fun! Siobhán outdid herself. We ate a lot, went to a pub and then watched a movie while eating again. It was amazing. We played games too. Everyone’s gone home, they left like… ten minutes ago to let me have my beauty sleep for tomorrow.”

Andrew hummed, grinning.

“I’m glad you had a nice evening, love.”

“What about you? You went to a pub then?”

“Hmm… yeah! Played some music at Alex’s, then we went out for dinner, and then we went to a few pubs.”

“You sound tipsy,” you stated in a giggle.

“You too,” Andrew answered, his laughter matching yours.

“Hmm… yeah, I am, a little bit.”

Andrew pushed his tongue against his cheek, but didn’t say what he longed to express. That he loved you more than anything. That he wanted to go home now and be with you instead of going to his parents…

“I should let you sleep, then,” were the only words he spoke aloud.

“Yeah…”

You sounded disappointed.

“Baby?”

“Yes, love?”

“I miss you,” you confessed.

God, how could you make his heart melt this way over and over again?

“I miss you too, darling. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

A short silence, before your voice came back to the phone, shy and hesitant.

“I… I know that I wanted to do that traditional thing of not seeing you tonight and all but… can you come home now? I… I want you to be here. I really miss you a lot.”

“You’re sure?” Andrew asked, even though a wave of relief washed over him at your words.

“Yeah… I want to fall asleep with you. Please, come home. Fuck traditions.”

He chuckled, trying to hide how eager he was to come home too.

“Alright, I’ll come home then. I should be there in twenty.”

“Okay, be careful on the road.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Andrew hurried to his brother’s car, climbed in the passenger seat and fumbled with the seatbelt.

“Alright, change of plans,” he started, but John quickly cut him off.

“Oh, let me guess… you’re going home because you can’t stay away from your fiancée more than five minutes?”

Andrew grinned.

“Yeah…”

John merely laughed, a fond expression on his face.

“I knew it. When you told me about this plan staying at our parents’, I knew you’d end up going home.”

“Yeah, we just… we need to be together tonight.”

“Yeah… I get that.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Andrew thanked his brother again when he dropped him home. He would come and pick him up the next day at nine, so he would get ready for the ceremony.

Andrew hurried to your front door, fumbled with the keys in his haste. When he opened the door, he called for you.

He had barely taken off his shoes and jacket that you were appearing at the bottom of the stairs, a relieved smile on your face.

“You’re home,” you let out in a breath, hurrying towards him.

He welcomed you in a tight embrace, kissing your hair.

“I needed you tonight,” you explained. “I just… I need you here…”

“I’m here. I’m here, love.”

“That tradition sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” he nodded with a chuckle.

“I need to be close to you. I think… I’m stressed about tomorrow.”

“Why? It’s all gonna be fine.”

“Aren’t you anxious?”

“A bit,” he admitted. “But I’m… excited, rather. I can’t wait.”

You remained quiet.

“It’s all gonna be fine. Everything is planned, we have our friends and families to help us, and we only invited the people we love… it’s all going to be fine. And even if some things don’t go according to plan… as long as I get to marry you tomorrow, I don’t care about the rest.”

You moved in his arms, pressing your body against his. When you started kissing his neck, he knew where this was heading.

“Love?” he called as he pulled away just enough to look at you properly. “Are you drunk?”

“No… I only had like… two glasses of wine during the evening. Didn’t want to risk a hangover tomorrow. You?”

But Andrew shook his head, already leaning down to kiss you.

“I’m barely tipsy, I know what I’m doing.”

“Me too.”

And then he was kissing you, and God… it still felt the same. The best feeling in the world…

Your kisses quickly turned desperate. Somehow, Andrew lost his shirt and undershirt in a matter of minutes, while you were now pressed against the wall. You ran your fingers down the length of his chest, and Andrew trembled under your touch.

But then, you stopped, and he froze as well, throwing you a questioning look.

“This… this is our last time as… fiancés,” you whispered, something emotional weighing on your voice.

His expression changed from hungry to tender, he softly stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Better make it memorable then,” he answered with a suave voice, and he noticed the way your breath staggered.

You bit on your lip, something tempting and mischievous in your eyes. You gently pushed on his chest so you could move out of his embrace, took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs.

“That, we can do…”

That was it.

You looked at yourself one last time in your dress, feeling beautiful, feeling like none of this was real, and yet it was.

You were getting married.

“Andrew’s here!” Siobhán announced. “He did, indeed, arrive on time for once!”

“His parents and brother were driving him,” you explained, teasing in your voice.

“That explains everything! Do you need anything?”

“A hug?”

Your friend laughed, but hugged you without a second-thought anyway.

“I’m so happy for you and Andy! You’re going to be so happy together,” she whispered in your ear, making you emotional again.

“Yeah… I know…”

“He’s not going to believe his eyes when he sees you, you look so beautiful!” she complimented you, pulling away and readjusting one of the flowers in your hair.

“Thanks.”

“Alright, you stay here, I’ll get everything ready and I’ll come get you to take a first look at your groom, alright?”

“Okay.”

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before leaving. But despite her reassuring gesture, you couldn’t help the scenarios that played in your head. Even though you knew Andrew loved you, you knew that he was earnest, you knew that he wanted to marry you. Still… all you could think of as you stared at your own reflection in the mirror was the fear that he would leave…

Frank had bailed out, what if Andrew did the same?

But then Siobhán was back, a grin on her face.

“Alright, come on. Andy’s waiting for you. And if I might be allowed a spoiler… he’s so fucking hot…”

You laughed at that, a mixture of excitement and apprehension twisting your stomach.

What if Andrew didn’t like your dress? But you couldn’t wait to see him in his suit, your imagination was running wild at how handsome he must be…

“Alright, you close your eyes,” Siobhán instructed as you reached the back door of your friends’ house, and you obeyed.

She guided you a few meters away from the house. Your photographer had set up some cameras to catch the moment when you and Andrew would see each other in your wedding clothes for the first time, and your friend guided you at the right spot.

“Alright, you two!” she instructed in a louder voice so that Andrew could hear. “I’ll go now, I have a handsome Best Man to enjoy! You’re not the only ones looking stunning today, and I intend to enjoy seeing my boyfriend in a suit. So… you wait till I close the door, and then you both countdown from ten and turn around.”

“Okay,” you heard Andrew’s voice coming from behind you, it was deeper than usual, you guessed his throat had tightened.

“Okay,” you nodded as well.

“Alright, have fun!”

You heard her moving away, and when you opened your eyes, you were facing a tall oak tree in the middle of a patch of grass.

You heard the door slamming shut.

“Alright, ten,” Andrew spoke behind you, and your heart sped up even more as you started counting with him.

Your hands were clammy now, and your stomach was a mess of knots, and you hoped he wouldn’t leave, you didn’t want him to leave, what if he left…

“Three, two, one…”

You took a deep breath, and then you turned around.

And God… he was so… divine…

His dark suit suited him perfectly, the white of the flower pinned to his chest matching the bouquet you would soon be holding. His hair was partly up, and he just looked so handsome in his three-piece suit, with an elegant bowtie and shining black shoes, and…

And that was your groom right there…

You caught his hazel eyes when he was blinking, letting tears escape his eyes. And you read it all in his eyes then, the same adoration you felt for him, the same love, the same devotion, the same utter joy to see you standing there, ready to marry him…

All the doubts you had left vanished when he started walking over to you, crying, looking at you like you were something divine, something out of this world…

Your feet moved on their own accord, and the next second, you were in Andrew’s arms, breathing in his scent, holding tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“God… Andy, you’re so handsome,” you whispered, crying as well now. “You’re gorgeous, God, you’re so beautiful, you look so good…”

He pulled away just enough to look at you. Your hands moved to hold his face, to run your thumbs over the sharp edge of his cheekbones.

He shook his head, opening and closing his mouth. He chuckled as he cried, looking at you like he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

His gaze travelled down your body, and then back up to your eyes. And he tried to speak again, but merely cried some more instead. He had a lovestruck grin on his lips, though.

“You’re so handsome,” you repeated yourself, and he sniffed, cleared his throat, tried to summon his voice back.

“You’re gorgeous,” he finally let out in a hoarse whisper. “Christ, baby… you’re so beautiful… The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”

You both chuckled, and cried, too happy to believe it was all real.

“You’re so beautiful… so beautiful…” he kept on repeating, before taking your face in his hands as well and crushing his lips to yours. “You’re gorgeous… God… love… my love…” he kept on mumbling between kisses.

You kissed and hugged and giggled and tried to realise that this was all real for a few minutes. Andrew seemed calmer, at last, and dried his cheeks on a tissue.

“Told you I would cry,” he chuckled, blushing hard.

“I cried so much too,” you reassured him.

“Yeah… but you must give me a spin. Give me a spin!” he insisted, taking your hand and making you laugh as you spined around. “God, you’re gorgeous…”

“You like my dress?”

“You’re perfect… you’re breathtaking.”

“Thank you…”

You hugged for a while longer, whispering sweet nothings and repeating how much you loved each other…

And there was no doubt left. When Raine arrived a few minutes later to let you know you needed to get ready for the ceremony, you left feeling nothing but happiness, love and a deep sense of peace.

Andrew was the love of your life, and he would stay, you were safe with him. You knew he would stay, no matter what…

The ceremony itself happened in a blur.

The next day, Andrew would remember every moment, every detail. But when it happened, all his brain could register was the silence that meant he needed to say ‘I do’, your voice when you spoke those words too, the moment when he slipped a ring around your finger and you did the same for him. And then the words ‘I now declare you husband and wife’, and then he was kissing you, and kissing you again, and again…

You were married. You were fucking married…

The papers were signed, and everyone hugged him, and then you escaped for a couple of hours to get some photos taken of the two of you. Then it was time to party, and he sang a song for you, because it would make you happy. For your first dance, he was worried to walk on your feet, clumsy as he was with his long limbs, but you seemed so happy all his worries faded the second your gaze caught his.

There was delicious food, drinking, games, some nice speeches from Alex and Siobhán, and a lot of love… so much love… so much happiness…

You never left his side, all day long the two of you remained glued to the hip. He didn’t want you out of his sight, and several times throughout the day he would glimpse at his wedding band, and then yours, and remind himself that you were married now.

She’s my wife.

Every time he looked at you, that simple truth slapped him in the face, and he couldn’t believe this was real…

Around midnight, while everyone was dancing, Andrew managed to sneak out of the tent with you, wanting to be alone for a moment.

The air was cold, September announcing Autumn and its colder weather. You had been lucky though, it had been sunny all day. Andrew put his jacket on your naked shoulders, and you thanked him with a tender smile. There were lights shining in the park, and you walked a little further away from the tent. You could still hear Alex and his band playing, but you were alone now, and Andrew held your hand in his, running his finger over your wedding ring as you settled behind a pine tree. The light was dim, but the full moon was bright, and paired with the yellowish lights of the nearby path, he could perfectly see your features.

You looked up at him with a radiant grin.

“Can you believe that in two days we’ll be on our honeymoon?” you asked.

“Not really, no,” Andrew shook his head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close.

“You’re my husband,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

“And you’re my wife,” he answered, a stupid grin on his face.

“You make me so happy, you know? I’m so lucky you love me.”

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your lips.

“You make me happy too,” he whispered, emotions making his voice hoarse. “You’re the love of my life.”

“And you’re the love of mine.”

“Today was perfect,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, letting your perfume make his head spin.

“It was…”

“The cake was the best part, by the way.”

You laughed at that.

“You’re so silly…” you said with so much fondness in your voice.

He kissed your closed eyelids.

“I know that we should get back, have fun with everyone for a little longer…”

“But?”

“But I want to go home and be just with you now.”

You bit on your lip, pulling away just enough to look for his phone in the pocket of his jacket.

“Text your mom, and then we’re getting a cab.”

“You’re sure? We can stay…”

“I want to go home. I want to enjoy some alone time with my husband.”

He giggled like an idiot at your words.

“Jesus… it’s gonna take me a while to get used to that…”

“Are you very drunk?”

“No… tipsy. Why?”

“Because… it’s our wedding night…”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you giggle. He tried to hide the warmth that spread throughout his body at your innuendo, but failed.

“Hmm… I see…”

“I think you’re going to like what I’m wearing under that dress…”

“Yeah, okay, you’re getting the cab, I’ll sneak back in the tent to get your purse, you text my mom.”

He was already heading back towards the tent when you called for him, making him turn around.

And you were so beautiful in this dual light, golden and silvery, in your wedding dress, with flowers in your hair and joy making your entire body glow…

And you were his wife. He was your husband. You would love him for the rest of your lives… when did he get so lucky? How…?

“I love you, baby.”

He grinned, falling in love with you a little bit more… he would spend his entire life falling more and more in love with you…

“I love you too, darling. I love you so much…”

[hismentor]

The hedgehog has only mischief on the mind. “So… Great Sage, let’s say, hypothetically, a certain teacher was slacking off in training his student, and that student was real excited to learn all of those fancy martial arts techniques… what would you be inclined to do in that sort of situation?”

don't you have your own mentor ? // @scumbag-the-hedgehog

there's  a  look  of  annoyance  that  quickly  takes  over  the  monkey king's  features. what  was  with  this  hedgehog  and  that he was constantly trying  to  get  something  out  of  him  ?  didn't  his  so-called  mentor  teach  him  anything  ?  he  supposed  not,  considering  scourge's  inquiry.

but  it  really  did  strike  something  within  him  --  a  case  of  deja  vu  washed  over  him  as  golden  eyes  tried  to  guess  what  it  was  that  the  other  wanted  from  him. really  ?  a  question  like  that  ? 

❝  then  that  student  should  take  it  up  with  their  mentor. no  need  to  get  anyone  else  involved  --  things  just  get  complicated  otherwise. ❞  he  says  with  a  sigh  of  frustration.

❝  what  are  you  looking  for  anyway  ?  go  and  bother  your  mentor. ❞

[hisins]

@livesforgttnsins ;; [  PIN  ] ;  the sender pins the receiver against the wall. - gives u nezha gives u nezha gives u nez---

there's a slight hiss that leaves his throat as his back hits the wall. not that there was any pain, but it was more out of surprise. after a second, he looks over at the other, giving nezha a cocky grin like he wasn't the one in the vulnerable position, ❝ well, geez, nezha -- if you get any rougher, you're gonna be threatening me with a good time. ❞ he says, exhaling lightly.

[novaursa]

The Chains We Break

- Summary: Otto Hightower comes to negotiate the release of his son. Daemon does not humor him. But you and your sister are dragons as well, who answer to neither gods or men.

- Pairing: Gwanye Hightower/trag!reader/one-sided Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is younger sister of Rhaenyra and was bonded with Silverwing. These events happen right after The Flames We Share. If you want to read all parts before this one in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+ (chapters that follow will be rated higher)

- Word count: 4 580

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

You sit beside your sister, your gaze cast toward the window where the distant waves of the sea crash against the shores of Dragonstone. The sunlight, filtered through heavy clouds, is gentle on your skin as the salt air brushes your face. The wounds you sustained at Rook’s Rest have begun to heal—your body mending faster than your spirit. Every breath still carries a phantom ache, reminding you of how you fell from Silverwing’s back, the cries of dragons echoing in your ears as death nearly claimed you.

Rhaenyra sits close, her face etched with remorse. She hasn’t been the same since Rook’s Rest, the burden of guilt gnawing at her. You see it in the way her fingers fidget, how she can’t meet your eyes for long before looking away. She’s your sister—your queen—and you know the weight she carries. But you do not hold her responsible for the choices that led to that fateful battle. It was war, and war spares no one, even the innocent.

“I should have never let you go,” Rhaenyra whispers, her voice thick with regret. “It should have been Rhaenys. Not you. It was my decision that put you in harm’s way.”

“Rhaenyra,” you reply, your tone soft but firm. “You did what you thought was right. We cannot turn back time, nor can we carry blame that doesn’t belong. It was my choice, too. And I would do it again, even knowing the cost.”

Your words hang in the air, but they do little to soothe her troubled heart. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken thoughts, until you find the courage to speak what has truly been gnawing at you.

“Gwayne Hightower,” you begin, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “You must release him from the dungeons.”

Rhaenyra’s expression tightens at the name. The guilt in her eyes shifts to something more conflicted, more political. “It isn’t as simple as that, Y/N. He betrayed his own House, his blood, to bring you back here. Daemon—”

“Daemon,” you interrupt, bitterness lacing your tone despite your attempt to remain calm. “Daemon has imprisoned him, forbade me from even setting foot near the dungeons. He practically bought the loyalty of the guards to keep me away! But you are the Queen, Rhaenyra. Daemon may be my husband, but you hold the power.”

Rhaenyra’s brow furrows, and for a moment, the sister you know peeks through the layers of the ruler she has become. “And if I were to free him, what then? Daemon will see it as defiance. You know how he is—he will not take kindly to having his authority challenged, even by me.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Gwayne, alone and confined, after all he sacrificed for you. A man who went against everything he was raised to believe to save you from certain death, only to be thrown into a cell by the very people he saved you for. “He did not deserve this. He did what he did for me, and now he is paying the price. Rhaenyra, please. He doesn’t deserve to rot in those dungeons. He saved my life.”

Before she can respond, Grand Maester Gerardys enters, his expression grim. “Your Grace,” he says with a deep bow. “A ship bearing the banners of Aegon II has docked in the harbor. Prince Daemon has gone to meet them, with his men.”

Rhaenyra stiffens, but your thoughts drift to Daemon, and what this meeting could mean. Your gaze darkens at the thought of your husband—how he holds Gwayne’s fate in his hands. He’s always been a tempestuous man, fierce and unyielding. The very traits that once drew you to him now feel like iron chains wrapped around your heart.

You watch as Gerardys takes his leave, the room falling silent once more. “Daemon may be the one to hold him prisoner, but I will not let this stand,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Rhaenyra. The decision settles like a stone in your chest. You have to do something. You owe Gwayne that much.

Daemon strides down the rocky path that leads toward the harbor, his cloak snapping in the breeze. The sea roars beneath, a fitting backdrop to the turmoil within his mind. His steps are sure, his presence commanding as always, but there is a tension between his shoulders—an unease that’s hard to shake. Vaeron, your son, walks beside him, mirroring his posture. Boy’s gaze is distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, but he keeps stride with Daemon, a silent observer to the storm brewing within.

“Remember what I’ve taught you,” Daemon says, his voice low but carrying authority. “In these dealings, never let them see weakness. We do not bend to those who would see us destroyed.”

Vaeron nods, but his thoughts are torn. He has spent his life idolizing Daemon, the man he believed to be his father. But now that illusion is shattered, replaced by the knowledge that his true father sits rotting in the dungeons beneath their feet. The revelation has left him conflicted, struggling to reconcile the man he loves with the man who has imprisoned his blood.

“What will you do with him?” Vaeron asks, his voice careful, testing the waters.

Daemon’s eyes flicker with a dangerous light. “With Otto Hightower? Or with the man who abandoned his oaths to save your mother?”

“The latter,” Vaeron clarifies, though he knows the question risks Daemon’s ire.

Daemon’s expression hardens. “Gwayne Hightower is a traitor, no matter his reasons. He made his choice when he turned his back on the Greens. Such a man is not to be trusted lightly.”

“And yet he saved her,” Vaeron says, his voice dropping. “Would you have let her die, had he not intervened?”

Daemon’s steps slow, and he turns to face Vaeron, his eyes narrowing. “Mind your tongue, boy. There are things you do not understand.”

“I understand enough,” Vaeron counters, his voice tinged with defiance. “You taught me that loyalty is everything. But Gwayne’s loyalty was to her, not to a cause, not to a side in this war. Can you not see the worth in that?”

Daemon’s jaw clenches, his patience fraying. “You forget yourself, Vaeron. This war is not a matter of sentiment. Your mother’s survival matters because of what she represents—our family, our claim. If you think Gwayne Hightower acted out of love, then you are as naive as you are young.”

Vaeron’s hands curl into fists at his sides, but he keeps his emotions in check. This is the man who raised him, who taught him strength, yet in this moment, all he feels is a cold distance between them. Daemon sees only the war, the struggle for power. But Vaeron sees something else—something more human in the man who risked everything for his mother.

As they near the harbor, the banners of Aegon II come into view, and with them, Otto Hightower’s grim countenance. Daemon’s focus sharpens, his thoughts already turning to the game of strategy ahead. Vaeron falls silent, but in his heart, the conflict festers. 

The wind whips through the banners of Aegon II as they flutter in the sharp sea breeze, the air thick with tension. Otto Hightower stands at the head of his retinue, his face carved from stone, the faintest flicker of unease buried deep within his shrewd eyes. He is older now, his hair nearly all grey, but the calculating sharpness in his gaze has not dulled. Daemon approaches with that characteristic swagger, a predator prowling toward prey, flanked by his guards and with Vaeron at his side. The contrast between them is stark—Daemon, vibrant in his ruthlessness, while Otto wears the weariness of his long-fought battles.

Otto speaks first, his voice carrying the authority of years spent in the small council chamber, dictating the fates of lesser men. "Prince Daemon, I come on behalf of my King to negotiate the release of my son, Ser Gwayne Hightower."

Daemon’s lips curl into a mocking smile. "Negotiate?" He laughs, the sound rough and laced with dark humor. "You truly believe you are in any position to negotiate, old man? What is it that you offer in exchange for a traitor? Perhaps another decrepit stronghold that falls to ruin as we speak?"

Otto's jaw tightens, but he remains composed, his voice cool. "You underestimate what Gwayne’s return means to the Greens. A gesture of goodwill in such tumultuous times could open pathways you might find advantageous."

Daemon’s amusement only grows, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "Goodwill? From you? That’s as valuable as a beggar’s coin. Come now, Otto, surely you didn’t travel all this way just to insult my intelligence. Speak plainly, before I grow bored and send you back to King’s Landing with nothing more than salt air in your lungs."

Vaeron stands to the side, his gaze flicking between the two men. Inside, a storm churns. He has known Daemon’s temper his whole life, the simmering cruelty always ready to break the surface. Yet today, that same temperament is turned toward negotiations that directly concern the man who is his true father. The words spoken twist in his mind—‘traitor,’ ‘exchange,’ as if Gwayne were nothing more than a pawn to be bartered, his life subject to whims and strategies. Vaeron keeps his expression neutral, as Daemon taught him, but beneath it all, the confusion gnaws at him.

Otto, sensing that he must tread carefully, adjusts his approach. "You dismiss too quickly what might be gained from a show of mercy, Prince Daemon. Your position, while strong, is not unassailable. A trade, even a gesture, could ease the tension between our forces. And you would gain much in return for sparing Gwayne’s life."

Daemon narrows his eyes, his amusement slipping away, replaced by cold calculation. "And what is it that you think I desire so much that I would let a Hightower return to his family? More land? An empty promise of peace? We both know that Gwayne’s life is worth more to you than any temporary truce you could offer."

Otto’s voice drops lower, becoming the tone of a man who has orchestrated more than one coup from the shadows. "There are things we could discuss—terms that could shift the tide of this war, perhaps even ending it in a way that leaves the realm less fractured. Aegon is willing to be reasonable if it means preserving our shared interests."

Daemon’s smile returns, this time sharper, more dangerous. "You think I care for shared interests? I care only for victory—unquestionable, complete. I care for the destruction of every man, woman, and child who stands between me and that victory. Gwayne’s life is a grain of sand on that battlefield. You know it, and so do I. The only reason he breathes is because my wife begged me not to have his head on a spike the moment he arrived on Dragonstone."

Vaeron stiffens, eyes fixed on Daemon’s profile, a silent witness to the deep ruthlessness within the man he once saw only as a hero. But now, he sees the cracks—how Daemon views everyone as a piece to be sacrificed for his goals, no matter the cost to their souls. He swallows hard, forcing his voice to remain steady. "And what of mercy, Father? Does it not hold any value in this war? Or is it all to be blood and fire until none are left standing?"

Daemon turns sharply to regard Vaeron, his expression unreadable, a flash of something indiscernible crossing his eyes. "Mercy is for the weak, boy. Those who offer it do so only when they have nothing left to give. Do you believe Gwayne deserves mercy for betraying his family, his House, for a fleeting moment of sentiment?"

Vaeron meets Daemon’s gaze, unflinching. "I believe that loyalty beyond reason deserves acknowledgment. Even in war, there are choices that define a man. He chose her—he chose my mother. If that is treason, then perhaps we are all traitors in our own ways."

Daemon studies his son with a shrewd gaze, weighing those words. The silence stretches until Otto steps forward, seizing the opening Vaeron has created.

“Let me look upon my son, Prince Daemon. Let me see the man who has caused this… conflict. If nothing else, I would know whether the man I seek to retrieve is worth the trouble. Bring him up from those dungeons, and if you wish, you can watch as I confront what my son has become.”

The corners of Daemon’s mouth twitch upward in a grin that holds no mirth, only cold amusement. “Very well, Otto. I’ll indulge this request. Let you see what has become of the son you so poorly raised. But do not mistake this for mercy, nor a sign of weakness.”

He turns to one of his men, gesturing with a flick of his hand. “Bring him up, but keep him chained. Let his father see what the consequences are for those who betray their kin for a moment’s folly.”

As the command is relayed, Otto’s mask of composure remains intact, but there is something strained in the tightness around his mouth. Vaeron watches, his heart pounding, knowing that soon he will come face-to-face once more with the man who has haunted his thoughts since learning the truth. The man who is more than just his mother’s savior but is also the father he never knew.

The minutes stretch painfully, each one heavy with anticipation. The creak of footsteps echoes through the stone as the guards finally return, dragging Gwayne Hightower from the depths. The man who emerges is a shadow of the knight he once was—his face gaunt, his clothes tattered, and his once-proud bearing diminished beneath the weight of his chains. But despite his disheveled state, there is a spark in Gwayne’s eyes, a defiance that has not been extinguished.

Otto’s gaze is icy, but there is a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or shame—as he regards the man before him. “You’ve disgraced us all, Gwayne. For what? For a woman who was never yours to protect?”

Gwayne’s voice is hoarse from disuse, but it still carries strength. “For a woman worth more than all the crowns and thrones in the world. If that is a disgrace, then so be it.”

Daemon’s laughter rings out, cold and mocking. “Hear that, Otto? Even chained and broken, he clings to his foolish convictions. This is what you came for—this pathetic display of misguided loyalty.”

Vaeron watches the exchange, torn between anger and a deep, aching sadness. The man before him is no longer the fearsome knight from the stories but a father who sacrificed everything for a fleeting chance to save someone he loved. The realization sinks in like a stone—this war, this endless cycle of violence, leaves no room for anything as simple as honor or love. It’s all twisted, corrupted by the ambitions of those who claim to know best.

The tension in the air crackles like the distant storm clouds gathering over the horizon. Gwayne Hightower stands before his father, closer now than he has been in years, his once-strong frame worn by weeks of confinement. He walks with a limp, the weight of chains dragging at his wrists, but there is still a pride in his bearing, a defiant spark that refuses to die.

Daemon watches the exchange with a calculating smile, his eyes flicking between father and son, delighting in the bitter reunion. 

Otto closes the distance, gripping Gwayne by the arm with a roughness that belies the controlled facade he wears. The old man’s eyes burn with a fury tempered by long years of cold, strategic thinking. “Have you lost your mind, Gwayne?” he hisses, his voice low, sharp as a dagger’s edge. “All your life, you’ve chased after her like some lovesick fool. You could never accept that Viserys refused your suit, that she was never meant for you!”

Gwayne’s expression barely shifts, but the muscle in his jaw twitches, a hint of the rage he has long kept buried beneath duty and restraint. He leans closer, ignoring the sting of Otto’s grip, and murmurs, his voice so low only his father can hear, “The boy standing next to Daemon is my son, Father. And that is all that matters now. My fate is inconsequential.”

Otto’s eyes widen, his breath catching as though he has been struck. For a moment, his iron composure fractures, disbelief and horror warring on his face. He releases Gwayne, recoiling as if the revelation has physically burned him. His gaze snaps toward Vaeron, the truth now laid bare, searing into him like a brand. The boy—no, the young man—is not just the child of Daemon’s wife; he is a Hightower. His grandson.

Vaeron meets Otto’s gaze briefly, not fully understanding what has just transpired but sensing the seismic shift in the atmosphere. Daemon notices the exchange and narrows his eyes, his amusement giving way to suspicion. His grip tightens on the hilt of his sword, as if ready to end this farce with a single stroke.

Otto recovers quickly, his face once again a mask of practiced indifference, but there is a tremor in his voice when he speaks, barely contained. “You’ve doomed us all, Gwayne. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You threw away everything—your name, your family’s honor, for what? To save a woman who could never be yours? A child you will never truly claim?”

Gwayne’s gaze is steady, unflinching. “I would do it again, Father. A thousand times over if it meant protecting her and our son. You can call me mad, you can brand me a traitor, but I regret nothing.”

Otto’s eyes darken as he processes the full scope of what has been revealed. He turns slowly to Daemon, who watches him with the cold eyes of a dragon ready to pounce. Otto studies Vaeron with renewed interest, seeing him now not just as a pawn but as a potential key to unraveling this web. He tries to capitalize on this revelation, his voice taking on a more calculated tone. “It seems, Prince Daemon, that the boy you’ve raised as your own has more complicated parentage than we knew. Perhaps this presents an opportunity—one that—”

Daemon’s face hardens instantly, his lips curling into a snarl. “Do not presume to speak of him as a bargaining chip, Hightower. I care nothing for your intrigues, nor do I care for whatever misguided sentiment your son clings to.” He steps forward, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “You came for your son, and I’ve given you this moment to see the disgrace he has become. But do not mistake this for weakness. Gwayne Hightower is nothing more than a broken tool, and I’ve no use for broken things.”

Otto opens his mouth to argue, but the steel in Daemon’s eyes leaves no room for discussion. He knows better than to push further when the dragon’s teeth are bared. Reluctantly, he pulls back, the wheels of strategy already turning in his mind, but knowing this is not the moment to press.

Daemon turns sharply to his guards. “Take him back to the dungeons. Let him rot where he belongs.”

The guards move swiftly, seizing Gwayne by the arms. Before they drag him away, Gwayne locks eyes with Vaeron one last time, a silent exchange passing between them. There is no plea for understanding, no attempt at explaining what words cannot convey. Just a look—a father recognizing his son, and a son realizing the depth of what was sacrificed for him.

The confrontation ends not in bloodshed, but with Daemon’s final, sardonic remark. “You’ve seen your son, Otto. Now crawl back to King’s Landing and tell your king that mercy is the last thing you’ll ever find on Dragonstone.”

Otto holds his gaze for a moment longer, then turns on his heel, a man who has measured his options and found them lacking. As he departs, Gwayne is dragged back toward the dungeons, his chains rattling with every step. 

In that instant, Vaeron knows that the next time they meet, it will not be as strangers, but as something far more complicated—something that even Daemon may not be able to control.

The clinking of chains and the rough shuffling of boots against stone echo through the courtyard as Gwayne is dragged back toward the dungeons. His face is set in grim determination, resigned to his fate, yet his eyes still hold that spark—the fire of a man who has found something more precious than victory in war. The guards are silent, their expressions hard and unreadable, loyal to their prince’s orders, despite whatever inner conflict they may harbor.

But as they round a corner, the way is blocked. Standing firm are Rhaenyra and you, their Queen and her sister. The two women’s presence immediately shifts the air, tension snapping taut like a drawn bowstring. The guards pause, uncertain, as their gazes flicker between Rhaenyra’s command and the one issued earlier by Daemon.

Rhaenyra’s voice rings out, clear and commanding. “Release him to Otto Hightower. He is to leave Dragonstone at once.”

The guards stiffen, the weight of conflicting orders hanging heavy on their shoulders. “Your Grace,” one of them ventures, his voice laced with hesitation, “Prince Daemon’s orders were clear. Ser Gwayne is not to be released.”

You step forward, eyes blazing with resolve. “And who is your Queen? Who commands this keep? You will do as she says or face the consequences. Daemon’s orders hold no weight when the Queen herself speaks.”

There’s a moment of palpable tension as the guards exchange uncertain glances. But the authority in Rhaenyra’s gaze, coupled with your fierce insistence, finally breaks their hesitation. They nod reluctantly and begin to unshackle Gwayne, their hands shaking slightly as they fumble with the locks.

Gwayne breathes out a quiet sigh, rubbing his wrists where the heavy manacles have left raw marks. He looks to you, a softness in his gaze that defies the bleakness of the situation. You step closer, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you in that instant. His eyes hold yours, and in them, you see the unspoken words, the regret, the love, and the inevitable farewell.

“This is not the end,” Gwayne murmurs, his voice rough but steady, his eyes gleaming with quiet intensity. “If my nephew has any mercy left in him, I will find a way to return. But if not… know that protecting you was worth everything. Every sacrifice.”

You reach out, your hand trembling slightly, resting it against his chest where you can feel the steady, yet faint, beat of his heart. “You’re the only reason I’m alive, Gwayne. You risked everything for me, and I won’t forget it. No matter what happens next.”

He leans in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and whispers, “Remember me, Y/N. And if this war ever ends, perhaps fate will be kinder to us in another life.”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears, but you manage a faint smile, brushing your thumb gently over his cheek in a rare display of affection. “I will. I promise.”

Before either of you can say more, the guards hastily usher him toward the docks, anxious to see him gone before Daemon can intervene. Gwayne casts one last lingering glance over his shoulder, a look full of unspoken promises and finality, before he is led away.

As they escort him down the winding paths toward the ship, the sails already being unfurled, Daemon and Vaeron catch sight of the commotion from a distance. Daemon’s eyes narrow dangerously as he realizes what is happening. His fury builds like a storm, the anger practically radiating off him as he strides toward the scene, Vaeron following, his own emotions churning in the wake of what has transpired.

As Gwayne passes by Daemon, their eyes lock for a brief moment. Gwayne’s lips twitch into a faint, knowing smirk—one that speaks volumes, a silent challenge, as if to say, You didn’t win this time. It’s a gesture that only fuels Daemon’s rage, the dragon within him rearing its head.

Daemon’s hand tightens on the hilt of Dark Sister, his knuckles white with fury, but before he can draw it, Gwayne is gone, escorted swiftly onto the ship where Otto waits with grim satisfaction. The gangplank is raised, and the ship begins to pull away from the harbor, sails billowing as it heads back toward the horizon.

With the Hightower entourage retreating, Daemon’s fury turns on Rhaenyra and you. He storms up to the two of you, his eyes blazing, voice like thunder. “What in the name of all the gods are you doing, woman? Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

Rhaenyra stands her ground, unyielding, her chin lifted defiantly. “I did what was right, Daemon. Ser Gwayne Hightower saved my sister’s life at Rook’s Rest, and I will not be the one to condemn him to rot in chains for it. Let the Greens decide his fate now. It’s no longer our concern.”

Daemon’s glare shifts from Rhaenyra to you, his gaze scorching with silent accusation. The promise of a reckoning lingers in his eyes, a vow that this conversation between you and him is far from over. But he turns back to Rhaenyra, the anger in his voice uncontainable. “You’ve weakened our position, Rhaenyra. Do you not see what this act of so-called mercy has cost us? We hold every advantage, and now you hand them back one of their own, giving them hope when we should be crushing it.”

Rhaenyra’s voice remains steady, firm in her conviction. “Hope may be our enemy, but I will not sacrifice decency for the sake of cruelty. This war has already claimed enough souls—if showing mercy weakens us in your eyes, then so be it. But I will not let this conflict strip us of our humanity.”

Daemon’s eyes flash dangerously, his rage palpable, but even in his fury, he knows better than to challenge her publicly. The exchange bristles with barely restrained venom, both of them locked in a clash of wills, neither willing to yield. But it’s clear that this is a rift that will not be easily mended.

Vaeron, who has watched it all unfold in silence, feels a small surge of triumph swell in his chest. For the first time, his mother acted on her own terms, free from Daemon’s influence. The knowledge that Gwayne is safe, at least for now, is a balm to his inner turmoil. Yet, even in his moment of quiet victory, he knows that the repercussions of this day will ripple far beyond the shores of Dragonstone.

Daemon finally steps back, his gaze returning to you, the promise of confrontation lingering like smoke in the air. “This is not over,” he hisses, his words directed more at you than at Rhaenyra. Then, without another word, he turns and stalks off, his rage still burning as he disappears from view.

The ship grows smaller on the horizon, taking with it the man who dared defy every loyalty, every oath, for the sake of love. And in that moment, you know that whatever happens next, the war has shifted—not because of power or strategy, but because of the choices made out of love and loyalty. Choices that may very well reshape the fate of everyone involved.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Reunion (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which your husband finally returns from his time in Númenor, and you make the most of the first moment you get him alone

Warnings: evil!reader, mentions of injury, hot and heavy make out, slight choking, heavily suggestive dialogue, mentions of exhibitionism

Note: same evil!reader as the others in the collection, but it should make sense on its own too.

He’s finally on his way to Eregion. And wounded. It’s been plain to see through your soulbond for days.

You can barely conceal your trepidation as you stand with Celebrimbor and Elrond, awaiting your husband’s arrival in Eregion. They do not know to expect it, of course—they believe Galadriel is long gone into Valinor, and they could never fathom that she is soon to ride through the gates with a man at her side, much less that he is the very darkness they seek to keep at bay. And that you, Celebrimbor’s trusted aid for so many years, are none other than Sauron’s beloved wife.

Had they known, they surely would not have asked you to assist in the task secretly entrusted to them by king Gil-galad—that of bringing into being some sort of creation that will save Elvendome from the dying of their light in Middle-Earth. That is what you are discussing now. Elrond laments that you have failed, and it is time to inform the High King of this. Celebrimbor looks at him, dismayed.

“We must not despair,” you intervene, working as much hopeful reassurance into your gaze as possible. “Surely, in another few days, the answers will come.”

And it’s not even a lie. Your husband shall bring all the inspiration needed and then some—but you must ensure the Elves do not leave this city before his arrival.

Elrond shakes his head. “I fear we’re out of time.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and you push down the urge to swat it away as he speaks very inconvenient words. “The Elves must prepare to abandon these shores. Forever.”

You return his sad smile with practiced ease.

Where are you? you reach out to your husband, sending the thought as far and quickly as you can manage—

A deep tiredness answers on his end. Swiftly and so very close.

The sound of hooves has never sounded sweeter than when Galadriel finally rides in through the gate. It serves you well that both Elrond and Celebrimbor are too stunned by her arrival to notice the slip in your mask when you see your husband following behind her, slumped against his own horse. Surely, the anguish written on your face is too great to be considered natural concern for a wounded stranger. You school your features quickly, but do rush to aid him in climbing off his horse—that much, any kind-hearted Elf would do.

For a short, beautiful moment, you are pressed against him as he staggers on his feet, and you manage to exchange the briefest of glances. His brow is slick with sweat, he is bleeding from his side, yet you feel through your bond how your touch fills him with elation. You would suffer the same wound as him, you think, if only it meant you could kiss him as you long to, then and there.

But a couple of guards are quick to intervene, taking what they must think is too heavy a burden off your shoulders. Pulling your husband from you, they sling his arms around themselves and all but drag him away when he fails to walk on his own, leaving you to strive not to follow as your heart slams against your ribcage.

“What has happened?” Celebrimbor asks.

“Enemy lance, six days ago,” Galadriel tells him. “We rode without rest.”

Galadriel. You take a moment to look at her. You’ve seen her before, of course, but not as a cog in your plans. That had happened quite accidentally—or perhaps by fate. Either way, your husband has returned. That is all that matters.

Well, that and getting him alone.

There is no plausible reason for you to stand at his side whilst your people’s artificers work to mend his wound. All you can do is sit and wait, gently nudging your husband’s mind through your bond to make your presence felt. A sense of content drifts back to you, though it is laced with the same impatience you feel.

If you were still loyal to the Valar, you would thank them for the haste with which Elvish remedies work, even if the hours they require to be applied feel like an eternity. Finally, the artificers leave your husband to rest his newly recovered body as you watch from the shadows of the corridor. It is past midnight, all too easy for you to slip into his room and shut the door behind you without anyone noticing.

Your husband, having sensed you were about to join him, awaits you in utter nonchalance, lying with his legs crossed and his arms beneath his head as if he truly were some graceless human man. He’s been given a new shirt, white and pristine. Pity. If you have your way, he’ll need a new one soon enough.

“The hour is inappropriate,” he greets you, and you don’t know whether you want to kiss or slap away his smug little smile.

For now, you answer with your own. “Good.”

You stride towards the bed with the determination of a demon chasing prey, and with swift, skillful movements, climb into it and straddle your husband’s hips.

“Gently, my love,” he warns, mischief dancing in his eyes as his hands fly to your waist, gripping your flesh greedily even as he keeps you at bay, “I am but a man recovering from his wounds.”

You give a slight, rueful chuckle. He is perfectly well now, and you both know it.

“I’m afraid you shall have to endure,” you threaten sweetly, and he abandons all feigned resistance as you dive in to finally claim his lips with yours.

The relief of being together again is instant, and you sigh into his mouth as you let his kiss consume you, sweet and slow. You surprise even yourself. You had expected a furious clash of teeth and tongues, the frenzy of swallowing each other whole after going too long without your beloved’s taste—like it was when you had finally nursed him from an amorphous black mass back into his form, and the two of you had been reduced to a tangle of thrashing limbs in the snow, as mindless and savage as animals mating in heat.

But that was after countless years of suffering in his absence. Compared to that, your time apart since the shipwreck separated you has been nothing at all—and what’s more, of your own choice, however it displeased you. Your husband had seen an opportunity in his meeting with Galadriel, one from which you could both benefit, and so he had entreated through your bond that rather than look for him, you must return to the false life you had built in Eregion in his absence, for he sensed you shall yet have use of it upon his return.

And now, here you are—reunited once more, in body as well as mind. This time, you wish to savour it. You relish each and every slide of your husband’s tongue against yours, every scrape of his stubble against your cheek, every inch of hair caressed by your fingers as they sink into it, tugging longingly at the roots. Your hearts beat against each other as you press yourself flush to him, his arms wrapped around you to somehow pull you even closer, and the might of the sheer adoration shared between you is almost too painful to bear.

“Will you stay this time?” you whisper, nudging his nose with yours as your lips part from his and hover close. “Or will I be made to wait for you once more, my love?”

His hand cradles your face, coaxing you to retreat only enough for your gazes to meet.

“The road goes ever winding,” he tells you. “Not even I can see all its paths.”

“Yet it seems ours so often tend to drift apart,” you say, frustratedly. “As though they are forced to be. That sea creature who attacked the ship, and the immense wave that carried us at such great distance from each other—that was no coincidence, was it?”

Your husband shakes his head.

“It is for us that I wish to reshape this world. Without you, the end I have seen so clearly since I first awoke withers away before my eyes. They know this.” Hatred sparks in his eyes, but it is only a flicker against the love with which he beholds you. “The Valar themselves may have attempted to part us,” he says, “yet the tides of fate only brought me back to you all the more fruitful in our endeavours.”

“Hm, so I’ve heard.” Now animated by more pleasant thoughts, you sit up slowly, sure to drag your nails down your husband’s torso with just the right amount of pressure that it draws a low groan from him. “King of the Southlands,” you proclaim, equal parts pride and amusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “An old man’s trinket and a word from a gullible Elf and an entire people bow at your feet.”

“She is not gullible,” he says, almost absent-mindedly. His eyes are fixed on some tantalizing spot on your neck as he sits up as well and covers it with his mouth. “She is desperate to believe whatever suits her purpose,” he murmurs between languid kisses to your skin. “I all but laid back and allowed Galadriel to bring me right where I most needed to be.”

You’d be a helpless puddle of desire—and to an extent, you are—if not for the fire his words ignite within you. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away, pushing against his chest to throw him right back down against the pillows. That earns you a grunt and a wicked chuckle from your husband.

“It is not wise to speak another’s name,” you say with eerie calmness, gaze locked with your husband’s as you lean down until you’re nose to nose, “whilst your wife is astride you.”

He hums as if in contemplation, taking hold of your chin as his eyes roam over your face.

“She is hailed as the most beautiful of Elven maidens,” he reminds you, and you know it satisfies him when your brow knits in indignation. But then he goes on, ever so adoringly, “Those who say such a thing either have never laid eyes upon my beloved, or they are blind as bats.”

See, now... now you melt.

You catch his hand as it moves from your chin, and give the tip of his thumb the slightest nip.

“Beguiler,” you purr, a honeyed reproach. “No wonder you have them eating from the palm of your hand.” And that is exactly where you lay a lingering kiss. He seems transfixed by the reverence of your gesture, and his slightly parted lips are too tempting for you not to kiss them once more.

Your blood is still heated from your husband’s teasing, from being pressed against him so close, and you hunger for so much more than the gentleness from before. Your kiss grows deeper, more desperate, and soon enough you’re tugging at the hem of his shirt, signaling for him to aid you in lifting it over his head. With a frustrated groan, he takes hold of your hands to make them cease.

“My love, I would like nothing more than to have you, repeatedly, for the remainder of the night,” he says in earnest, breath heavy. “But you’ve already lingered here too long. Should someone come and see—”

“I’ve locked the doors,” you dismiss, and chase his lips once more. He lets you catch them, claims yet another kiss, only to turn away from you again.

“And if someone should unlock the door to find you here,” he retorts as you grunt in protest, “how shall we maintain our pretence?”

“I do not care!” you all but whine, the longing you have endured in his absence swelling painfully within your chest. It turns your voice into a quiet plea. “I want my husband.” You press an impossibly sweet kiss to his cheek, then murmur in his ear, “Don’t you want your wife?”

His breath hitches. Suddenly, he turns his head, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Temptress,” he rasps begrudgingly. Then, softly and subdued, “Beloved.”

He is the one to capture your lips now, any thought of restraining his desire long gone. You smile in triumph against his mouth, then plant your hands against his shoulders, push away and—fisting your hands in his shirt, you pull.

Elven fabrics are by no means fragile, but with a bit of your powers put into it, the shirt tears apart at the middle, baring your husband’s chest to your ravenous gaze.

“Perhaps we might be able to explain this, after all,” he muses while your lips attack his neck, quickly moving downward. “I could tell them what a merciless creature you are...” His hand comes to cradle the back of your head as he admires how you pepper urgent kisses down his chest. “...taking advantage of a poor mortal man when he finds himself in such a vulnerable state.”

You halt abruptly, eyes snapping up to his. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you gasp with perfectly feigned innocence, even as you lay your sinful mouth on him once more. “Here I am—a kind, virtuous Elven maiden such as myself,” you speak between kisses, nips and licks at his skin, “seeking to bring aid to a wounded man...” Your lips venture lower, down his abdomen. “...only to be seduced into his bed...” His eyes are aflame with desire as you gaze up at him through your lashes, working open his belt. “...with shameless words of temptation and ruinous caresses. Imagine the scandal.”

It happens in an instant—you gasp as you are grabbed and pulled and flipped onto your back, your husband’s frame pressing you down into the mattress as he pins your wrists to the pillow.

“Imagine that, indeed,” he rasps out, eyes so darkened by hunger his pupils turn to their primal slit shape. “Imagine if they were to burst through the door...” He releases one of your wrists to wrap an achingly tender hand around your throat, leaning into your ear. “...and saw us joined as one,” he whispers into it, making you shudder, “and knew at once that we’re forever bound.”

You grip at his wrist, eyes fluttering shut, chest heaving, ready to beg for him to give you more. But he isn’t done, and tightens his hold on your throat with just the right amount of pressure to draw a wanton whimper from it. “Imagine,” he says, “if they saw this kind, virtuous Elven maiden you have led them to believe you are for all these years, ruined with pleasure beneath her husband.” He lifts his head, his cruelty to ‘them’ mingling with his reverence for you in his gaze. “Imagine their betrayal, their horror. Their jealousy—for they would know, deep in their bones, that no love of theirs will ever compare to that which binds our souls as one. Would you like that?”

You would not like it—you need it, you crave it with a force so great it feels as though his skin is made of flame, burning yours in sweet agony with every inch it touches. And yet, even breathless and desperate as you are, you lift your chin in challenge and fix him with your gaze.

“I would like you,” you murmur defiantly, “to put that wicked tongue of yours to better use than talking.”

Your husband grins. “How I’ve missed you, my love.”

There is nothing teasing about the way he kisses you then. He tastes your mouth with abandon as his hips dig into yours, and you whine impatiently, writhing within his grip. Obeying your silent wish, his hands release your throat and wrist in favour of roaming over your body, caressing and kneading all the spots of your soft flesh he knows to be most sensitive. You coil your arms around him, wishing him even closer, as his lips drift from yours to your jaw, kissing their eager way down your neck, and you shudder as he tugs down the shoulder of your dress, exposing your heated skin only to set it further ablaze with his mouth. You can feel the fabric straining, sure enough to tear apart in the same way his shirt had, and you want it, you want your husband’s skin against yours with nothing in between—

Someone is trying to open the door.

You pray with all your might that you misheard, even as your husband freezes at the sound as well, and lifts his mouth from your shoulder to look in the direction of the sound. But then whoever is on the other side, realizing that the door had been locked, knocks on it instead.

You don’t even bother making your voice quiet. “Oh, for the love of—!”

Your husband puts a silencing finger to your lips—and gives you a scolding look when you lick it obscenely.

“Sir Halbrand?” one of the artificers calls from outside. “Are you well?”

“That should be ‘your majesty’,” your husband mumbles.

“I’ll kill them,” you deadpan.

“Shh,” he coos, slightly amused. “Not yet. We still have work to do here.” Infuriatingly composed, his eyes roam the room in search of a solution, and land on one. “Why don’t you step onto the balcony for a moment whilst I tell them I locked the door myself? A man needs his privacy, after all.” He looks back to you, and finds a tragic blend of ire and yearning on your face.

“Oh, my love,” he says sympathetically, brushing a tender knuckle down your cheek, “how beautiful you are when you crave me to despair.”

“Then I must always look splendid,” you quip, lifting your head to reach his lips with an alluring whisper, “I never not crave you to despair.”

He curses in Black Speech, the foul words muffled as he gives into your kiss once more. But then there is another rap at the door, more urgent than the last.

“Go,” he grunts. Before you can protest further, your husband pries himself off you and leaves the bed altogether. You allow yourself a moment to plop down on the pillows and curse at the ceiling before you will your body into moving. Your limbs are still weak with desire as you get on your feet.

You decide then and there that your first decree as Queen of all Middle-Earth shall be the execution of whoever is now standing beyond that door.

Your husband has hastily discarded his ruined shirt, tormenting you further with an unobstructed view of his lean torso. There must be something equally irresistible in your disheveled state, however, because the moment his eyes land upon you, his apparent composure slips away and he surges to you like a man possessed, planting yet another searing kiss onto your lips.

“Get rid of them,” you pant out as you break away.

Your husband takes your hand, kissing your knuckles quickly. “As my Queen commands.”

Your heart flutters, easing the frustration as, finally, you go your separate ways: he towards the door, you to conceal yourself. You take comfort in knowing that this parting, unlike the others, shall be extremely short—and the reunion all the more delectable.

Previous fic with same reader -> Tides of fate

Next fic with same reader -> As one

[rubyin-wonderland]

Trapped

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: your job as a medic and Zoro's role as your patient is set in stone. That is, until you find yourself needing the medical attention

WC: 2.6k

Warnings/tags: internal injuries, a bit of blood, being stuck in a cave, mild claustrophobia, a little steamy but nothing NSFW

You woke up in pain. You were splayed across a rocky floor, right next to a wall of rock which had formerly been the roof of the cavern.

Your only source of light was the torch you had brought with you, which lay on the ground next to you.

You felt warm waves of pain flowing from your shoulder, knee, and side, as a result of being knocked aside by a sudden cave in.

You looked around, hoping someone was trapped with you. "Zoro?" Your voice was weak. He had been next to you when the rocks had begun to fall. He had pushed you out of the way. There was no chance that any of the others could've made it to you.

"Zoro!" You regained your voice, praying that you weren't stuck, alone and injured, waiting for help to miraculously find you.

You tried to stand, but with your injured arm, which you didn't dare to look at, and the pain in your knee, you just fell over. That only added to the pain you felt, which was nearly all encompassing.

You weren't used to being injured. Not this bad, at least. You were a medic, not a fighter. If someone got scraped up, you were there to soothe the ache and mend the skin. Whenever there was a fight, you stayed away from the greatest source of danger. You fought, and you fought well, but you stayed to the side so that you could use your talents without struggle afterwards.

"Zoro!"

You called one last time, hoping that maybe he hadn't heard you, or that he was scouting through the tunnel. Anything. You couldn't do it alone.

There was a great amount of shuffling, and from a dark corner of the cave, from the highest point where rock met roof, Zoro appeared, climbing down and kneeling next to you. His eyes scanned your body, catching on your arm.

Meanwhile, you scanned him, nothing that while he had a few scratches, including one dried cut on his cheek and the beginnings of a bruise under his eye, he had managed to escape the situation unharmed.

"Are you okay?" You asked out of instinct. It was second nature to make sure people were okay. Especially with him. None of your other friends were more prone to fights and injuries than your swordsman.

He was your primary patient, and not just because of your relationship. He would have more scrapes in a week than the others would have for months. Even given his seemingly endless attempts to worry you, you couldn't help but love him, even if seeing him banged up, bruised and bloody made your heart stop.

"I should be asking you that." He murmured, eyes drifting to your shoulder once more. "Is it bad?" You asked, barely having the heart to look at it yourself.

Zoro didn't answer, opting to stare at it instead, like he could fix it with a frown. You spared a glance and sighed. "It's dislocated."

Zoro looked relieved. "Good. I've seen you fix those before." "On other people. I don't have practice on myself."

You weren't used to taking care of yourself. Of course you patched up wounds, and stitched the odd cut together, but there were some things that were done easier on other people, and with both arms intact.

You shifted in your spot, groaning at the irritation. "You have to do it." Zoro frowned. "Me?" "Yeah, there's no one else down here." "What if I hurt you?" His voice stayed completely serious. "Zoro, my arm is dislocated."

He nodded reluctantly, adjusting his position at your side. "Fine. How do I do it?"

"You have to take my arm," he did as told, grip loosening when he heard you inhale in an attempt to get the pain away. "And you have to guide the ball of my humerus back into the socket. You're gonna have to pull."

He tried to hide his fear, but it was evident he was not having fun. You were the knowledgeable one. You knew how bodies worked and how to fix them. He knew how to fight and earn injuries. Your roles were reversed in a way neither of you cared for.

"It's gonna be okay. My muscles will do most of the work, you just have to guide them, okay?" He nodded and you closed your eyes, waiting for the pain.

You felt the tug before your arm reconnected, in a flash of pain that left you screaming, squirming in agony.

Zoro removed his hands from you immediately, unsure of what to do. He wasn't used to this.

You eventually relaxed, resting your uninjured arm over your forehead, which was now sweaty. "You did good." You said simply. "Now we gotta get the fuck out of here."

"I talked with the others." He gestured at the wall of crumbled rock. "There was a hole up there. They're coming around to get us." "Pick me up. We'll meet them halfway."

Zoro did as told, walking around to your other side, lifting you up by draping your uninjured arm over his neck.

The two of you walked for a bit, stopping briefly when your knee felt particularly bad, or if you just needed to take a break, head bowed as you tried to catch your breath.

Zoro did his best to help you, shouldering most of your weight to help with your knee, which was giving you a pronounced limp. He held the torch as it burned, illuminating the seemingly endless corridor.

Your side burned, but you said nothing of it, hoping that he wouldn't notice, but that was no use, as he stopped at any disturbance in your walking pattern, being as accommodating as he could.

He eventually offered to carry you, but the process of getting you into his arms was an astonishingly painful process that left you sobbing into his shirt for a minute before you insisted on continuing your journey.

Every movement was painful to you, but you concealed it as best you could until you needed to stop.

You felt guilty about burning up the torchlight, but Zoro refused to hear it. "I'm not letting you push yourself. Wait until you feel better."

You walked until your feet were sore, and even Zoro stopped on his own at one point, looking at you.

"Shouldn't your arm be in a sling?" He asked, peeking at your injured arm, hanging limply at your side.

You laughed at your own negligence. "Yeah it should. You know, of this whole 'best swordsman' thing doesn't work out, you'll make a wonderful medic."

He was unresponsive to your joke, and for a second, the two of you understood.

You understood why Zoro tried to play off his injuries, telling you "it's not that bad" or "I've had worse" to reassure you that he was going to be okay. He didn't want you to worry too bad, spending your time worried over nothing, especially if there were other things to be done. He wasn't trying to be difficult.

And Zoro realised why you cared so much. He could see why you wanted to make sure he was completely alright. Because he usually wasn't, and the both of you knew it, even with the attempts at distraction and the words playing it off.

The two of you stopped moving for a second, having understood each other in a way nobody could have predicted happening.

"Yeah. A sling would help."

Zoro helped you lean against the wall of the tunnel, gently setting you down and making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

He then stepped away from your body, removing his shirt. Even in the dom light of the torch, you could see him clearly.

"I don't know where the sling comes in, but I'm really enjoying the view." You smiled weakly, unable to stay serious in this dark cave for too long. He huffed, hiding a smile of his own.

He took a knee in front of you, one leg on either side of yours, making sure to not rest any weight on you, disturbing your leg.

The shirt he had was simple. It was a wrap shirt, which was convenient for the sling. He folded it into a triangle and tucking in the sleeves, before approaching you with the makeshift sling.

He tied the ends in a knot behind your head before gently taking your arm and sliding it into the pocket. You winced as it moved, but the second it was securely in place, you felt mildly better.

He sat slightly above you, waiting for you to insist on moving again, but for once, you let the torch burn.

The light was bright enough that you could see the scar dragging across his chest, a reminder of the time you had nearly lost him. You remembered the worry that had overtaken you that day, and every day since then, hoping he would take his injuries as seriously as you did.

And so, you didn't ask to be picked up just yet.

You lifted your free hand and held onto Zoro's shoulder, gently feeling the warm skin. He shivered, you hand unusually cold.

One of his arms was supported by the wall next to your head, the other sat on his knee, and as you caressed his shoulder, your hand moved up to his neck, pulling him down towards you, so you could capture his lips in a kiss.

The second your lips touched, your hand moved to his cheek, where it usually sat. Unfortunately, the other hand was out of service to cup the other cheek, but you didn't let it hurt you.

He didn't even hesitate to reciprocate, kissing back furiously. He fell onto his second knee to hold you closer, arms wrapping around your body, doing his best not to irritate anything, holding you tight.

For a while, your senses were filled with him. You nearly forgot that you were stuck in the cave as your lips pressed against his again. You parted for seconds at most, only stopping to inhale one shaky breath before he captured your lips again, and whatever small amount of air you had taken in was taken right back out again.

Your lips parted from his once, and you said his name, which drove him to near insanity, watching the sly smile overtake his mouth.

There he was. The Zoro you knew. Just seeing his smile was enough to make you believe that you weren't injured at all, and the two of you were back on the ship, in your shared room, alone except for each other and the rocking of the sea. When you were healed, you were going to demand a night like that with him.

You moved, your kisses now running along his jaw, moving to his neck, your nose just beneath his ear.

His three earrings were cold against your skin. They ticked a small bit, but you didn't move, pressing kiss after kiss on the skin of his neck.

While you did this, he resisted the urge to move his face to your throat and kiss you there as you buried yourself between his neck and shoulder. At one point, he found himself making a noise that sounded like your name. He could feel your smile against his skin and shivered as you pulled away.

The second you heard him speak, your lips curled upwards and you smiled as you dragged your lips lightly up to his face again. Impatiently, he caught your lips with his just as your mouth pressed an extra kiss to his cheek, right over the little cut.

His lips now on yours once more, he took control. He shifted his position over you, cautious as ever about your injuries, taking your face in his hands and kissing you gently. He slowed it down. Making it passionate.

You felt your heart pounding in your ears as he did this, your body yearning to touch his. And so, your free arm grabbed at him, starting at his exposed collarbones, around to the planes of his back, feeling the muscles tense under your cold touch.

As he kissed you, your hand traveled north, along the small bumps in his spine, past his strong shoulders, to brush over the base of his skull feeling his breath hitch as you reached the prickly green hairs at the base of his neck.

He finally pulled away, with a relaxed smile on his face. Not his cocky grin, but something more relaxed. Actually happy.

You smiled back, hand cradling his cheek. "I love you." You pressed one last kiss to his lips. "It's why I keep asking you if you're okay."

"I love you too." He responded, "it's why I don't want you worrying."

The two of you sit against the wall, smiling at each other. You can still feel him on your lips, like an echo, fading into the cavern.

You want this moment to last, but you needed to get back on track.

"We should probably start walking again." You sighed, glancing at the burning torch. Zoro sighed as well, taking your good arm, and carefully standing you up, taking the torch, and walking.

You walked in silence as the light of the torch began to dim. "What should we do when the light goes out?" You asked, eyes straining to see in the darkness. "We'll stay put. Wait for them to find us." "That could take a while."

You hadn't meant to sound so worried, but it did make Zoro look down at you. "I could try carrying you again."

You agreed, and soon you were in Zoro's arms, the torch carried in his mouth. You bit back any sounds of pain as he lifted you up and began to run. He ran for a while, but the torch was dimming fast. You were nearly submerged in darkness, and you told Zoro to stop.

"We should find somewhere to wait before it goes completely dark." You suggested, staring at the embers of the torch.

He mumbled a response and set you down against a wall, tossing the torch into the darkness.

Your free hand reached out to find him, pulling him down to sit next to you. "So now we wait." You said into the darkness. You heard Zoro hum in agreement.

"They'll find us any minute." You mumbled, resting your head on Zoro's shoulder, your free hand now being held between both of his. "We just have to wait."

The two of you sat in silence. The way you sat was similar to the way the two of you would nap on the ship. If you ignored your surroundings and forced yourself to feel Zoro enough, you could convince yourself that you were actually there, and not stuck in a dark, stuffy cave waiting for people to come save you.

Eventually, you felt yourself drifting off, imagining you were back on the ship, happy and uninjured.

Zoro felt your breaths slow, until your soft snores began. Despite the urge to nap with you, he stayed alert. He needed to be there for you when the others arrived.

When they did eventually arrive, Zoro picked you up, careful with your injuries and carried you out, all while you were still asleep.

At the first shine of natural light on your face, you awoke, a small groan drawn from your lips.

"We're out." You observed, taking your first breath of fresh air. "Yeah we are."

"As fun as this has been, I think you should stick to being safe and let the injuries fall to me." Zoro suggested, looking down at you, wreathed in the warm sunlight. You breathed a small laugh. "I won't argue with you."

[xoeus]

when the lights dim — oneshot

PREMISE 𓃊 ❝ a love tested by silence and distance, where sunghoon’s presence is all you need to heal, but is it enough to mend what’s broken? ❞

박성훈 x fem reader ꣑୧ angst, unrequited love wc 3.5k

୨୧ when you love someone, you hold on — you fight, you stay, you endure. at least, that’s what you always believed. being with sunghoon felt like second nature, something you never had to question. but somewhere along the way, love turned into something quieter, something heavier. he started slipping through your fingers like sand, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on, he wasn’t reaching back. when does love stop being worth the fight? and more importantly, when is it okay to let go?

the thing about falling in love is that no one ever tells you how much it hurts when it starts slipping away.

you and sunghoon were never the type to have explosive fights. there was no dramatic screaming, no shattered glass, no slammed doors. instead, your love unraveled quietly — like a favorite sweater slowly coming apart at the seams, thread by thread.

you noticed it first in the way he held you. his arms used to be your safest place, warm and steady, but now they felt hesitant, almost reluctant. when you leaned into him, he didn’t lean back as much. when you kissed him, he still kissed you, but the passion felt… different.

less.

at first, you brushed it off. maybe he was stressed. maybe he was just tired. maybe you were overthinking.

but love wasn’t supposed to make you feel like you were begging to be wanted.

the change was gradual, like the slow fade of a once-vivid photograph. he started coming home later, staying out longer, answering texts with half-hearted responses.

“practice ran late”

“got caught up with the guys”

“too tired, maybe tomorrow”

excuses that tasted like lies, even if they weren’t.

you missed him. even when he was right next to you, you missed him.

but no matter how much you ached for him to hold you like he used to, to look at you like you were the best thing in his world, he never did.

one night, you tried. really, really tried.

you made his favorite dinner, set up a movie night, even put on the hoodie he once said you looked cutest in. you wanted to remind him — remind yourself — that you were still here, still fighting.

when he walked in, he barely spared you a glance.

“you’re home late,” you said, forcing your voice to stay light.

“yeah,” he mumbled, toeing off his shoes.

he didn’t ask about the dinner. he didn’t notice the way you had set up the couch just the way he liked it. he didn’t even kiss you hello, like how he used to.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “i thought we could watch something together.”

sunghoon sighed, rubbing his eyes. “i’m really tired, y/n. can we do this another time?”

another time.

but another time never came.

you stayed for weeks, maybe months, in the limbo of waiting. waiting for him to come back to you, waiting for him to say i love you first, waiting for the ache in your chest to fade.

but one night, as you lay in bed beside him, staring at the ceiling while he faced away from you, it hit you.

you weren’t waiting for him.

you were waiting for the version of him that used to love you properly. the sunghoon who held your hand just because, who sent you texts filled with hearts and dumb jokes, who made you feel like you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

that sunghoon wasn’t coming back.

and loving someone shouldn’t feel like convincing them to love you back.

packing was the hardest part.

not because you had too much to take with you, but because everything in this space had traces of him. the hoodie draped over the chair, the half-used bottle of his cologne on the dresser, the polaroids of the two of you stuck to the mirror.

you stared at them for a long time.

then, carefully, you pulled them down.

“where are you going?” his voice was groggy with sleep, but the moment he saw the bag in your hand, he sat up.

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “i can’t do this anymore, sunghoon.”

his brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

you let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. “you know exactly what i mean.”

he didn’t say anything.

because he did know.

you waited. you waited for him to tell you to stay, to promise he’d fix things, to reach for you the way you had been reaching for him all this time.

but all he did was stare, lips slightly parted, eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

guilt? regret? relief?

whatever it was, it wasn’t love.

you nodded to yourself.

that was your answer.

walking out of that apartment, out of him, was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

but as the cold air kissed your cheeks and the weight of waiting was finally lifted from your shoulders, you realized something.

it hurt like hell. but for the first time in a long time—

you could finally breathe.

k: i hope this doesn’t flop TT

xoeus ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓂃 ‎ ‎ ‎ TheXoeusArchive

[mistydeyes]

just a cute little moment with ghost i was hoping u could write pls 🤭

imagine simon being gone on a mission and your house was feeling so empty and lonely.

So..... you decide to adopt a dog from the shelter to mend your loneliness and waited to surprise him with the new addition to the riley family!

On the other hand, Simon felt terrible for leaving you for months on end. To keep you company and protected, he brings home *drum roll pls*

another dog!!

The look on both of your faces when he comes through the door with dog in his arms and you with a little pup on your lap already 😭😭

(hope this isn't confusing lmao)

AHHH this is so cute and precious! love simon being a dog person fr fr

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: With Simon gone on some unknown mission, you decide to welcome a new member to the family. However, despite how much you love the friendly little guy, Simon has other ideas on pets.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

warnings: none :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"Hi, Simon," you smiled through the phone. "Hello, love, how are you?" he asked and you relaxed into the plush blanket on the couch. "Mhmm, same old, same old," you said, trailing off towards the end as if you had something to hide, "but how have you been, haven't heard any updates." You bit your lip as the line went quiet for a moment, you kicked your feet slightly in anticipation. "Something you want to talk about? Sorry, it's been a while since we've gotten stable service," he said, a soft kindness in his whisper. Before you could reply, a soft bark resounded through your shared flat as a car drove down your lane. "What was that?" Simon asked suddenly, "Someone's dog get loose?" As your newest and surprise addition to the Riley family came running to your side, you struggled to hold the phone and settle him down with soft pats and belly rubs. You hadn't intentionally wanted to adopt a dog without Simon but something about the young pup at the local adoption center made your heart melt. Plus you were no stranger to managing a new pet. However, your failure to answer gave Simon a full assumption as to the current state of your home.

"Did-did you adopt a dog?" he asked almost holding his breath, "please, just tell me." With that, the secret was out and you silently cursed your all too observational fiancé. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, "it's just too lonely without you here and you know how the colder seasons make me feel." You tried to calm your excuses by cuddling up to your big-eyed, gentle Golden Shepherd but were immediately off put by the sudden laugh filling your ears from the other line. "Please tell me it's at least a guard dog breed," he said between laughs and you felt your held breath relax. "Um you could say that," you replied as you smiled down to the bundle of fur curled up to your side, "he can be menacing at times." "To the mail carrier or actual intruders?" he joked a slight hint of sarcasm on his tongue. "I'll send you a photo so you can judge for yourself," you huffed but before the conversation could continue any further, you heard the call suddenly drop.

You pouted a bit as you looked down at Bones, your newest companion for the coming months. "Smile for your dad," you said happily before sending the picture off to Simon to see eventually. At the end of the week, your phone dinged with an incoming message. "golden shepherds are not guard dogs." it said simply and you were sure to spam him with more photos of you and Bones' latest adventures.

You lazily lounged around the flat as you looked at your phone's calendar. Simon's mission had been extended 6 more months from his initial departure date and since that update, you had heard little since. You put down your phone dejectedly before filling up Bones' bowl of food and water. As you turned with the bowl in hand, you practically jumped when the door knob turned. Bones ran towards it rapidly as you chased after him, nearly colliding with your kitchen island. "Easy now," you commanded sharply, pulling him by his collar. "Guess he is a guard dog after all," a familiar voice spoke and your eyes met with Simon's. You immediately jumped to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he levied a cardboard box into his other arm. As you reunited after many long months, you were monetarily blinded to the small bundle of fur peeking out from the top. "What's this, Simon?" you asked as you paused your barrage of kisses. "Look for yourself," he smirked, putting the box in your hand. Inside, a small Belgian Malinois began to lick your face. As you laughed giddily at the affections, Simon led you to the couch with Bones following cautiously. "Since you don't have much of a scary one here," he said pausing to pat Bones on the head, "thought he and you could use a companion." You nodded as you put the small puppy in your lap. "Well now that we have two children," you said turning to him, "you better be staying for a while now, Riley."

[jjkamochoso]

Hihi!! You probably have a lot of requests, so if you're too busy, no worries! I was just wondering if you could do a little fluff oneshot with Sanemi where the reader is sick and he can't kiss, hug, or be near them. I love your past Sanemi fluffs so much, he holds my heart in a chokehold. Again, if you can't write it, that's okay, thank you so much, and I love your writings 💚💚💚

Hi anon!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so happy you’ve liked my past works!!🥰❤️ your request is absolutely adorable😭😭 as someone who always gets sick, this request was perfect for me and brought me comfort so I hope it does the same for you!! Wishing you good health for the rest of the year!!!

Also, just for future reference, I will NEVER be too busy for your guys' requests!! It may take me a while to get to them, but they will never be ignored!! You're all too precious to me for that🥰

Save Me from My Sickness

Fluff

Sanemi Shinazugawa x sick!gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of cold/flu symptoms (snot, nausea, vomiting [not detailed], etc.)

You knew you were sick from the moment you opened your eyes and took your first conscious breath of the morning.

Tried to take your first conscious breath of the morning, that is.

Your throat burned with the rage of a thousand dragons; it felt like you were swallowing hot coals. Breathing out of your nose was no better with the way both nostrils were almost completely blocked. You groaned, throwing yourself into a nasty coughing fit.

"Are you alright in there? It sounds like a damn infirmary," Sanemi teased from the other room. Unable to answer, you fought for breath while mucus rattled somewhere in your chest.

"I was joking, you don't have to give me the silent treatment," your boyfriend scoffed, sliding the door open to your bedroom. His demeanor completely changed when he got a good look at you: eyes rimmed with red, nose dripping with snot, fighting for your life on the futon. Sanemi practically ran out of the room to fetch fresh water for you as you desperately needed a drink to calm your throat. When he returned, you had finally been able to catch your breath. You gulped down the cup he poured for you.

"Hey, hey, slow down, it's not goin' anywhere," he said, rubbing a hand on your back. You finished the water, silently crying at the way the liquid only further irritated your throat.

"You look like shit," he commented, earning a nasty glare from you as you blew your nose.

"I think I'm sick," you proclaimed, scooting your body away from him. His purple eyes watched you with curiosity.

"I know you're sick," he retorted. "Even Himejima could see that. Why are you moving away from me like I'm the one with germs?"

"Because," you chided, "I can't get you sick. You're a Hashira. People need you, Sanemi."

"You need me right now."

"I'll survive. They won't."

Sanemi let out a sound reminiscent of a growl. "I hate that you're right. I can't just leave you here by yourself, though. You probably would die."

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly. "Go train like usual. I'll rest up here. I'm sure I'll be back on the mend in no time."

Sanemi hesitantly stood, his inner voice at war with itself. On one hand, you had a point. The Corps couldn't afford to have him out of commission with whatever nasty virus you were currently hosting. On the other, how could he be expected to go about his day without getting his coveted good morning kiss from you?

"I'll come check on you in a few hours. Just... don't die on me, okay?"

You knew he was only half joking.

"Okay."

You started coughing again, your throat unhappy with usage. Lying back down with a groan, you snuggled under your blankets as Sanemi watched on, his heart panging with uneasiness. He knew of too many good people taken by illness; he be damned if you were next.

"Rest well, y/n," he whispered, his voice softer than he thought himself capable of. His words hung in the air of the stale room rife with sickness. Feeling overwhelmed and at a loss of what to do, Sanemi took your advice and went back to his daily routine.

Your absence was painfully obvious to the Wind Hashira. Though you weren't a demon slayer, you often helped with his training and, over time, became a staple in his success. Without you, Sanemi's training grounds were an absolute mess and almost impossible to use.

He had only been outside for an hour before the whole place looked like a tornado had run through it. Frustrated with his lack of progress and his lack of you, Sanemi decided to check in on you and make sure you were still alive. He walked into the bedroom and his heart began to pound against his scarred chest. You were awake but you were a shivering mess. Your teeth chattered against one another as you huddled under your thin blanket, looking like you were about to keel over any moment.

"C-could you get-t me another b-blanket, please?" you asked, your voice raspy.

"Of course," he nodded, rounding up every spare blanket you two had. He approached you, soft textiles in hand, but you signaled him to stop.

"Don't get any closer. You can just throw them to me."

Sanemi scoffed. "I'm not hitting you in the face with blankets no matter how much I want to sometimes. Let me at least wrap you up."

You tried to argue but you had no energy left. He worked quickly, tucking you in to ensure no warm air would escape. As he backed away, satisfied with his work, he noticed a thin sheen of sweat covering your forehead. Despite your protests, he leaned over and touched the back of his hand to your head.

You definitely had a fever.

Sanemi pulled his hand away as if he had gotten burned. Without a word, he found a washcloth and soaked it in cold water, gingerly laying it across your forehead. He noticed your shoulders relax with the sensation of coolness as it was attempting to lower your body heat. He thought back to his childhood, trying to remember what else his mom used to do for him and his siblings when they fell ill.

He stood from his previous kneeling position. "I'm going to make some soup. Yell if you need me."

"No really, you don't have to do all this for me. I feel bad enough."

Sanemi didn't say a word; he didn't have to. His deadly glare made your mouth clamp shut.

"I know, you wouldn't do it if you didn't want to," you said meekly after a moment of silence.

"And you're damn right I want to," he replied, leaving you to rest by yourself once more.

You woke up a few hours later to the delicious smell of soup wafting through the mansion. Sanemi came in, a steaming bowl in his hands. He set it down next to you, watching you with his arms crossed as you stubbornly hoisted yourself up so that he wouldn't come near you.

"I can help, you know," he snarked.

"Diseases are spread through close contact, you know," you snarked back, earning an eye roll from the man. He didn't move from his spot the entire time you slurped down your first meal of the day, thanking whatever gods were out there that you hadn't lost your appetite. When you were done he cleared your dish and came back into your room, not wanting you to be left alone for too long. Apparently, he was the one left alone--you were nowhere to be seen. Panic set in as he called out your name, wondering where you could've gone in such a short time and in your condition. His question was answered when he saw you on your knees, bent over with your head facing the toilet.

"C'mon, my cooking isn't that bad," he said, trying to lighten the mood. He wasn't prepared to see your tear stained cheeks as you looked up at him, your mouth trembling.

"Sanemi, I really don't feel good. You need to leave before I puke."

He was taken aback. "Leave you here by yourself? No way."

You let out a soft whimper as you settled on the bathroom floor. "But this is really gross. I'm really gross."

More tears began to fall, leaving glistening trails down your face. There was no way Sanemi could keep his distance from you now. You needed someone to comfort you and he was the only one that could provide you with the sense of security you so desperately needed. He wasted no time, scooping you into his arms and holding you tight as you cried. He didn't let go, even when you really did throw up, not wanting you to feel like you had to go through this alone. He tenderly wiped your face of leftover drool, showing a more nurturing side of him that he forgot he had.

But he'd never forget about it when it came to you.

"I'm sorry you've had to take care of me," you sniffled between coughs, trying not to cry again. "I'm a complete mess."

"Your mess is the only one I don't mind cleaning," he replied easily, keeping your frame held snug against his chest.

"Why?"

"Because." Sanemi paused before continuing. "Because I love you. And that means I'd do anything for you. I want to be by your side always, even if that means I have to listen to mucus filled coughs and soup being puked into a toilet."

"You're such a romantic, Shinazugawa," you said, blowing your nose into a tissue.

Sanemi procured another tissue for you from his pocket, discarding your old one. "Only for you, dumbass."

TAGLIST: @kana-daydreams

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part sixteen

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: drug use, alcohol, plot twist

author's note: okay i have to admit i havent sat down and wrote in awhile so pls forgive any errors, love u all

The following days felt rather protracted for Rafe since your sudden egress that morning at the Cameron's residence. His father was still absent as usual, likely plotting some sort of reprisal for the threats Rafe had made at the dock since it was unlike him to let such a thing go that easily. Truthfully, Rafe couldn't have cared less about whatever vengeance his father was brewing in his depraved mind, he could only seem to think about one specific thing as if his thoughts were a record that only had one track to play. You.

The hypothetically 'reasonable' thing to do would be to reach out to one of your friends, but knowing them, they'd glue their mouths shut before giving away where you were to him. But aside from the Pogues, there was really no one else to go to for answers besides them. Rafe knew you had a tumultuous, basically non-existent, relationship with your parents, therefore they'd be rendered no use in the search for you. Every option seemed to lead to a dead end for him, seeing how you kept your circle of friends diminutive and your family disconnected. It was practically impossible to find you.

Rafe realized he had made a mistake showing up unannounced when you had returned to the island, and that it had nearly drove you to despise him even more than you did before. He couldn't make the same mistake again, not when your view of him was now dimmed and tainted by the allegations that he was out to destroy you and your friends. The relationship between you and Rafe was more fragile than ever, and Rafe wondered if the situation itself was enough to diminish any chance he had of being with you again.

It felt like a cruel joke was being played on him. He finally had you back after two years of longing to see your face again outside of a chipped pixelated phone screen, an agonizing wait that was worth every minute of affliction he endured while you were gone. But now, it was like the past was repeating itself, a horrid nightmare that haunted Rafe like a bitter old friend.

Rafe did the only things he knew to do to cope with your disappearance—coke and parties. Like retracing the steps on a well-worn path, every turn feeling like deja vu with every line he inhaled. Sure it didn't make him forget about you, but it sure did make the pain more manageable.

"Damn Rafe, I haven't seen you rage this hard since your dad tried kicking you out last year," Topper's drab tone rang through Rafe's ears, although fortunately for him, his friend was far too high to pay it any mind.

Rafe responded with a half-hearted chuckle while he carelessly bent back down to the table to inhale one last line of the white powdered substance before him. He breathed it in with an ease only a seasoned addict could do, a shameful talent he acquired in an attempt to mend his affliction.

"Yeah, well," Rage shrugged, wiping his nose of residue, "he's good at bringing that side out of me."

Topper's brows furrowed at the remark, feeling as if it was a subtle hint at what Rafe was going through. It would only make sense if Ward had been the reason his son was becoming a full blown addict again, since Rafe held his father's words to a much higher degree than anyone else's.

"Hey, why don't we lay off for a bit and get some drinks?" The blond added, a pang of worry coursing through him at Rafe's flushed and disoriented complexion, his pupils dilated to the max.

With droopy eyelids and a gaunt look on his face, Rafe's hazy gaze met Topper's with a faint smirk present across his lips, "Yeah, I could use another drink." He slurred while he gave his friend an inept pat on the shoulder before wandering off to the bar.

As he strode through the crowd of people, Rafe's usual posh appearance was replaced with disarray. His hair had fallen into uneven tufts, his face pallid and streaked with sweat. His azure colored eyes were glossy and unfocused, darting around the room with an unsettling lack of coordination. His typical arrogant, assertive demeanor stripped away by a slack-jawed, dazed expression. If it weren't for the fact that he was surrounded by a hundred other intoxicated people, perhaps someone would've been concerned by the way he looked.

The more steps he took, the more he could feel himself go in and out of consciousness. The loud, thumping music and flashing lights only heightened the symptoms of his high as he reached a euphoric state. The world around him was hazy and blurred but he felt a blissful peace as his once-racing thoughts suddenly went silent. It was the first time in days Rafe had felt anything besides grief and anger. Between you and his father, he felt like a burden under the scrutiny he faced by the ones who knew him best, and figured, maybe you two were right; maybe he was the problem.

Before he could reach the bar, Rafe felt a finger tap him on the shoulder, urging him to turn around. He sluggishly turned to face whoever it was, only to be met with disappointment at the sight of a familiar brunette standing before him.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" Sofia looked in horror at the sight of Rafe's sickly complexion.

He rolled his eyes, annoyed by her comment, "What do you want, Sofia?" Rafe grumbled through his slurred speech.

"I.. came to say hi cause I thought I saw you across the room. Didn't expect to see you here," she replied hesitantly while she continued to observe his bloodshot eyes.

He scoffed at Sofia's remark, his voice dripping with a mix of anger and derision. “Haven’t you done enough?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits. “It’s bold of you to even come up and talk to me right now.”

Sofia’s eyes widened at the venom in his tone, her brow furrowing with a blend of hurt and frustration. “Look, Rafe, I know what I did and I’m sorry but—”

“No,” Rafe cut her off sharply, his voice like a jagged edge. “A bullshit ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t going to fix what you did. And besides, you should be apologizing to Y/N, not me.”

Her face fell, the weight of his words hitting her like a cold splash of water. “I know,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I made a mistake and I let my emotions get the best of me, Rafe. I was just so angry seeing you with her that I lost it.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, a harsh scoff escaping his lips. “I don’t give a fuck how you felt. You had no right shoving her into the pool like that. What if something worse happened to her? Then what? Your apology means nothing to me.”

Sofia's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip quivering as she struggled to hold back her emotions. “I didn’t think... I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was so caught up in my own pain and jealousy that I didn’t see how wrong I was.”

Rafe’s face remained a storm of anger and disappointment. “It’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s about her, and the fact that you let your anger turn into something so cruel.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the depth of his frustration and helplessness.

Sofia’s shoulders slumped, her voice barely a whisper now. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I just… I can’t stand seeing you with her after all we went through together. You promised me forever.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, muffling the chaotic noise of the bar around them. Rafe's face softened slightly, a mix of weariness and regret settling over his features. He looked at her, seeing the remnants of a pain he once knew intimately, but now felt so distant.

“Forever?” Rafe echoed, his voice rough with a blend of bitterness and exhaustion. “That was a long time ago, Sofia. Things change. People change.”

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the weight of the situation pulling him down. “What we had is over. I’m with her now, and you forcing yourself into this situation only makes things worse. I need to focus on fixing what’s broken.”

Sofia’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head slowly. “I know it’s over. I just didn’t want to be forgotten like this, to be left behind so easily.”

Rafe's expression hardened again, a wall of frustration rising between them. “It’s not about forgetting you,” he said, his tone sharp but tinged with a hint of sorrow. “It’s about moving forward. I’m trying to make things right for her, for us. But right now, all I see is a mess that needs fixing. And you’re only adding to it.”

Sofia's plea cut through the din of the bar, her voice cracking with desperation. “Please, Rafe, I only want what’s best for you. Please don’t shut me out like this.”

Rafe hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of the bar as he struggled with his own conflicted emotions. He turned back to face her, his eyes weary and clouded by the weight of everything that had transpired.

“Best for me?” he repeated, his voice hollow. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Sofia. You had your chance, and you made your choices."

Sofia's face hardened, a steely determination replacing the remorse in her eyes. "Then I’m sorry for what’s going to happen, Rafe. I truly am."

Rafe’s brow furrowed, his inebriated mind struggling to grasp the gravity of her words. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, a chill creeping into his voice as he sensed the shift in her demeanor.

Sofia’s expression grew somber, her tone taking on a more serious, almost threatening edge. "I was going to tell you that your dad came to me and offered me a proposition. If I did something for him, he’d pay me a large sum. At first, I wanted to reject his offer, come to you, and do the right thing. But seeing how you reacted tonight... I really need the money, Rafe. I’m sorry."

The words hit Rafe like a sledgehammer. His heart pounded violently in his chest, the alcohol-induced fog momentarily lifting as fear and anger surged through him. “What did he ask you to do?” he demanded, his voice sharp and urgent.

Sofia’s gaze dropped to the floor, guilt and fear mingling in her eyes. “I can’t say,” she whispered. “But it’s something that could hurt you and... someone you care about. I didn’t want to, but I’m desperate, Rafe. I’m sorry.”

Rafe felt the room spin as his mind raced. The reality of Sofia’s admission was like a brutal awakening, the weight of his father’s manipulative schemes crashing down on him with full force. He took a step closer, his face inches from Sofia’s, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “No, Sofia. You aren’t going to touch her. I swear to God, if you do—”

The threat hung in the air, taut with menace, each word charged with a volatile mixture of fear and fury. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the intensity of his emotions almost palpable.

Sofia’s eyes widened, her fear evident as she recoiled slightly from the raw intensity in his gaze. “Rafe, I—I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m just... trapped. I didn’t know it would come to this.”

Sofia’s shoulders slumped under the weight of her decision, her eyes squeezed shut as if to block out the gravity of her choices. “Sof, don’t do this,” Rafe pleaded, his voice raw and desperate. “You don’t have to do what he says. No amount of money is worth this.”

Her head shook slowly, each movement punctuating the anguish on her face. “I didn’t mean for it to come like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But I already made the deal. So now it’s either my life or hers, and I have to look out for myself, Rafe.”

The words struck Rafe with the force of a physical blow, his heart clenching painfully at the realization of the desperate position Sofia had put herself in. The intensity of his feelings for you surged anew, a fierce protectiveness that burned in his chest. “You’re choosing your own safety over someone’s life,” he said, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “You know what that makes you?”

Sofia’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, her tears tracing a path down her cheeks as she wrestled with her torment. “You have no idea what it’s like to live like a Pogue, Rafe,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “This is my only chance to have a second chance at a better life for myself. And if this is what it takes, then… so be it.”

Her words cut through Rafe like a knife, the raw pain and desperation in her voice mingling with the weight of her choices. He could see the conflict etched into her features, the inner struggle between her dire circumstances and the moral cost of her actions. It was a choice born out of desperation, not cruelty, and the complexity of her situation only deepened his own anguish.

Rafe took a step closer, his voice soft but resolute. “I get that you’re in a tough spot, but you don’t have to sacrifice your own humanity to escape it. There’s always another way, Sofia. We just have to find it.”

Sofia shook her head, her eyes still lowered, as if the weight of her decision was too heavy to bear. “I wish I could believe that,” she murmured. “But right now, this is all I see. I’m sorry, Rafe. I never wanted it to come to this.”

Rafe’s voice trembled with desperation as he reached out to Sofia, his eyes pleading. “Sofia, I can’t let you do this. Just tell me where she is, please. I’ll do anything.”

Sofia’s shoulders sagged further under the weight of his plea. She looked at him with a mixture of anguish and resignation, the fight in her fading as the reality of his desperation sank in. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her resolve crumbling in the face of his earnestness.

“I… I can’t,” she said softly, her voice cracking. “It’s not that simple, Rafe. I’m bound by the deal, and if I break it, there’s no telling what might happen to me—or to you.”

Sofia’s eyes were heavy with the burden of her choices, her face etched with torment as she looked at Rafe. She could see the raw desperation in his eyes, the plea for her to help you cutting through the veil of her own fears and guilt.

“Rafe,” she began, her voice trembling, “I know you’re begging me, and I wish I could give you what you want. But I can’t jeopardize my life like this. You don’t understand—”

Before she could finish, Rafe cut her off, his voice strained with emotion. “I don’t care about your life right now, Sofia. I care about hers. You know what you’re doing is wrong. There has to be another way.”

Sofia’s gaze softened momentarily, tears brimming in her eyes. She took a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to keep her composure. “I can’t tell you, Rafe. I’m sorry. I... I have to go.” She turned away, her footsteps echoing with the weight of her decision, leaving Rafe with a suffocating sense of dread and urgency.

As she walked away, Rafe stood rooted to the spot, the last remnants of his resolve dissolving into an all-consuming fear. The finality in Sofia’s voice was a harsh reminder of the time slipping away, the enormity of his task pressing down on him like a relentless storm.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

taglist: @rrosiitas, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87,

@augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall, @lucfics, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle, @maybankslover, @peachy4u2, @hockeybabe87, @yeosxxx, @zizouu23, @h34rtsformilli, @maybankslover, @yawnzshit, @rubixgsworld, @tsumudoll, @nosebeers, @literatureluster, @wearemadeofstardust0

[ruwriteshours]

CHASING PAVEMENTS (PART II) 𓇼 (P.JS)

PAIRING ⇨ park jisung x fem! reader

GENRE ⇨ continuation of chasing pavements, angst, smut, brother's best friend trope, fwb/secret relationship, fluff

WARNING ⇨ !!sexual content!! (minors dni) jisung is an asshole, reader is frustatingly naive, not much honestly

SUMMARY ⇨ In which jisung's derived thoughts leads him to an unlikely arrangement with chenle's sister, where he fucks up (quite literally) when he realises how deep in the feels he has for the girl he is suppose to show disinterest to, in honour of 'BRO CODE'.

TAGLIST ⇨ @heyitsconysstuff @toroufriteh @chaerfull @fly-inghighx @tangerinehyuck @taexoxosgf @kazscara @seonghwa9ie @bleuczennie @bekah931215 @bl--ankhaeji @mad2lyn @fakeuwus @sinsgaybutthatsokay @crzns <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this definitely took longer than i expected bcos i didn't plan for the plot to go this way honestly so i hope you guys like it!

IS IT POSSIBLE TO MEND A BROKEN HEART?

The answer to that is uncertain. To let go of someone you once cherished was something you thought you could never do. Were you being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But that doesn't make it any less hurtful. You weren't really doing well ever since the incident at the party. Left in tears of anger as you come to the realisation of being used. You hated being treated like an idiot.

Why on earth would Jisung waltzed in and declare his feelings for you when he has done nothing to prove it?

Chaeryeong and Yunjin were furious when presented with this information. A string of curses escaped their lips as the both of them console you in their dorm, you were a mess when you realised how much you still had feelings for the idiotic boy.

He's no good for you.

Is what you keep telling yourself whenever a notification would appear on your screen with his name on it.

It was a bad idea from the start to get too attached to him. An idiot you were to let your mind play out a fantasy with your lovesick crush, thinking you could get a happy ending out of it. As much as you wanted to forget him, it was difficult when he was a part of your life for so long, practically your childhood. Plus, it was hard to avoid him when he is the closest friend to Chenle, having that connection that would still make him try his advances on you.

In fact, he would still attempt to be near you in any way he could, despite the previous event. Texting you everyday, begging for forgiveness, approaching you in class with a snack in hand to give, being the one to wave to you whenever you walked passed each other, all of which you were dismissal to. Everyone was definitely shocked with the sudden change of scenery, having had used to you being the one chasing after him.

THURSDAY.

Chenle has definitely seen the awkward tension between the both of you, especially when one particular day he called you to ask to pick up something for him and you would come into their dorm later that day. He saw how Jisung would be the first to open the door in such a hurry. Chenle didn't think much of it but he was fairly suspicious at the fact that Jisung was the one doing the longing stares as you ignored his presence, being the one to initaite a conversation, but was cut short when you gave him sharp responses.

However your brother didn't have a mind of Einstein, oblivious as ever as he shrugged it off, thinking that Jisung was trying to be nice even though he has never tried to interact with you before.

Much things could not be said to his roommate, Haechan, who has predicted this might happen, knowing well enough how clueless the younger is at dealing with his feelings. Offering a friendly word of advice to his friend.

"You should really give her time."

But that was not what Jisung did, he was stubborn as ever. He wanted you to understand how much he regretted his actions. He didn't care how long it will take for him to gain your trust, his heart was set in making you forgive him.

Even if it meant that he was ruining his pride, it was long gone when he realised that he would be losing you in the process. He didn't know what he had until it was gone. Those times where you would constantly be by his side, ready to annoy him made him yearned for the moment to come again. He couldn't return your feelings because he was scared of what his best friend might think, but he couldn't care less about those stuff anymore. Hurting you was his last option.

Yet that was what he did.

He hurt you. Deeply.

Now he has to face the consequences and make up for it, no matter how long it will take him to get there.

"Can you please move?"

Your voice had a hint of annoyance, teeth gritting as Jisung stood in front of your locker for what it seems to be like the 10th time.

The male stubbornly moved to the side but still kept a close contact with you, much to your dismay.

"So, are you free today?" He jumped when you slammed the locker door shut, a sarcastic smile played on your lips.

"No." You held your books tightly, preparing to walk away.

However, he was close to your pace, trailing beside you. "Well, how about tomorrow? I heard that there's this really good pla—"

"Not interested."

You cut him off harshly.

"Why not?"

He defiantly asked.

You stopped in your tracks, ready to give an earful at his audacity. But before you could open your mouth, Seungmin came in and wrapped an arm around you. You sigh in relief, thankful that someone is here to save you.

"Hey! You ready?" Seungmin smiled, his eyes glanced towards Jisung, whose jaw was clenched in anger.

"Of course, let's go!" You walked away, ignoring the calls of Jisung.

"Thanks for saving me." You sighed once Jisung was out of sight. The male chuckled, "Wow, he seems really desperate this time."

"Unfortunately, Chenle was accusing me of 'brainwashing' him." You said, using air-quotes. "I don't know how long I can take this."

"Maybe you should talk it out again." Seungmin suggested.

"Nope, definitely not." You disagreed, Seungmin laughing at how quick your response was.

Ever since the party, you got closer to Seungmin. You had realised how much the both of you had in common and you found yourself talking to him. Even after your 'talk' with Jisung that day, Seungmin offered you company as the both of you walked back to your dorm. Overtime, you got comfortable with him, much to Jisung's dismay as he watched how Seungmin would cling onto your side now. Despite filling in on your personal history with your brother's best friend, Seungmin never tried to make a move on you, knowing that the last thing you want is a relationship. Like a kind-hearted person he is, he offered a shoulder to cry on and a ear to listen to.

"I'm so tired. Finals are killing me." You groaned, craning your neck from the soreness.

You had finally finished the project that was assigned three hours ago, being a fairly good student, it was a habit that you developed in order to ensure you didn't have a heavy workload. However, the more that your finals were nearing, the more your lecturers have been giving assignments continuously that is was racking your brain. Seungmin gave you company while you worked in the library, your head buried in the books. Unfortunately, your friends had their own hectic schedule due to their different module so they weren't able to come.

"I heard a cafe that just opened up a few days ago." Seungmin offered. "Wanna go with me?"

You smiled at his suggestion before closing your book, part of you desperately wanting a break as you began packing your bag, Seungmin following suit.

The way to the cafe was a brief walk, and thankfully you had enough strength to drag your limp body towards the destination. As the both made your way towards the cafe, you couldn't help but feel a sudden presence behind you. Turning around, you only saw two hooded figure behind, one of them turning their head behind dramatically. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just nothing as you made your way inside, the bell jingled as you opened the tinted glass door.

"You're crazy." You heard an awfully familiar voice behind you, carefully you began to tune in while Seungmin went ahead with your orders. Luckily, the queue being short as not a lot of people have heard of this place before.

"Just shut up!" Jisung harshly whispered, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"When I said I would help, this is not the kind of help I meant." Jisung rolled his eyes at the older.

"Like maybe at this point you need some professional help. Have you considered therapy?" Haechan suggested, which only made the younger glare at the insufferable boy.

"I'm just saying, you seem like you're the obsessed one now." He pointed out.

"I'm not obsessed." Jisung said, rather too quickly, causing the older to raise his brows questioningly. "I'm just making sure that he doesn't do anything to hurt her. I'm only looking out for her." He justified, observing Seungmin, who was talking to the cashier upfront.

"Hm, sounds like the call is coming from inside the house." Haechan snickered at his own joke, causing the younger to hit him at the back of the older's head.

Haechan whining at the impact.

Jisung huffed, watching as Seungmin returned back to his seat, with both cups of coffee in his hand. Jisung's hand clenched in anger, to the point he felt his blood lost circulation from the amount of pressure he applied. Maybe that's why he couldn't think straight, he thought bitterly as he saw the way you smiled around the boy, a deep feeling of jealousy bubbling through his skin.

He didn't like it one bit.

"Dude, can we just go. I'm kinda getting tired of playing stalker." Haechan called out, his voice hint with urgency.

Jisung ignored Haechan's whining as his eyes were boring at the back of your head, his hood covering his features as he began examining your face, the way you wore light makuep today, your rosy cheeks stood out as your bright smile shined through the room. How could he have been so blind?

Eventally, his staring got too intense that even after you were done with your drink, you stood up and began walking towards his direction.

Shit!

He began ducking himself away as Haechan panicked beside him, opting to hide his face under the table, hitting his head in the process as his let out a soft 'ow'.

"Is there a reason you're stalking me now?" Your voice called out, annoyance laced in your tone as you crossed your arms, waiting for a response.

"I don't know what you're talking about, miss." Jisung pretended to deepen his voice, cupping his mouth.

"Maybe you mistook us for someone." Haechan added, a little too high pitched for his own voice.

You scoffed, "Lee and Park. I know it's you guys, you guys suck at keeping a low profile, I've seen you guys behind us for the past 15 minutes."

"Well damn, didn't know we're on a last name basis." Haechan dropped his act, lifting off his hoodie as he slumped against his chair, "I didn't do anything wrong!" He huffed childishly.

"So hello to you too Zhong and Seungmin." He waved sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brown-haired boy, who waved back at him enthusiastically— finding humour in the situation.

"I'm sorry, Haechan." You rolled your eyes playfully. "But please tell your friend that he needs to respect some space when clearly the person he's stalking is no longer interested in his games." You said, every word dripping with venom as you acted like Jisung was not there.

"That's funny." Haechan chuckled, "That's what I told him too, but you know stubborn as alw— oof!" Haechan was cut off when he was elbowed harshly by the younger, embarassment flodding through his face as he was caught red-handed.

Before the situation could play out any further, the bell jingled outside and in came in Chenle, alongside with Mark and NingNing.

"Oh, dude. I may or may not have invited them here." Haechan announced awkwardly as the trio made their way towards their table.

"And you're only telling me this now?" Jisung asked incredulously, covering his face in embarassment as he could hear footsteps approaching.

"Hi, Jisung." NingNing voice spoke softly as she took a sit next to him.

"Hi." He replied back, monotonously.

"Ugh, what are you doing here?" Chenle asked in disgust, eyeing you up and down. You scowled, "Suprise big bro, we're at a public place and it's possible to see the same people when it's near college campus!" You made a jazzled hands, exaggerating your words.

"I wouldn't be shocked if you didn't know, considering you don't have a lot of friends."

"Says the girl whose only hanging out with one person." Chenle fired back before adverting his gaze onto Seungmin, "No offense."

"None taken." Seungmin waved off.

"We're leaving now, so don't worry." You grabbed Seungmin's hands as you made your way to the exit.

"Well, good riddance for us!" Was the last thing you heard before the door closed.

Jisung sighed in disappointment when you left, his heart clenched from the way you held the other's hand. A part of him felt selfish for thinking he could get another chance with you, especially when he was the one to mess everything up. Throughout the whole gathering, he couldn't bring himself to talk, too deep in thoughts that he didn't take notice on the way NingNing's face dropped when she realises that he wasn't paying attention to her. Chenle, who was observing the whole thing, kicked Jisung from under the table, which made him perked up at the sudden intrusion. He could only utter apologies as NingNing shook her head, waving it off as she put on a fake smile, knowing deep down that his interest in no where near her.

FRIDAY.

For the sake of your overbearing parents, you and Chenle were forced to leave campus early and travel back to your hometown to meet with your grandmother's. Since it was around the weekends, your parents didn't want to take the risk of getting held back by traffic, so they took the liberty of booking the flight for the both of you in advance and you would have no choice but to accept.

This was a common theme for your parents to do, to plan something without announcing until the very last minute. Though, you couldn't blame them, considering that it was difficult for you and Chenle to make time and visit whenever there was a family event and since it was your grandmother's birthday, you would feel guilty to miss that out. A part of you hoping for this unplanned vacation to take your mind off of finals, and more importantly Jisung.

Packing your stuff as you gave your roommate a hug, you decided to meet up with your friends at their dorm so that you could bid your goodbyes, dramatically letting out a sigh before helping you carry your suitcase in the car.

"Is Chenle coming with you?" Yunjin asked, checking the rear-view mirror.

"No, his friends are sending him off." You shook your head, "I'll just meet him there straight away."

Chenle had initially invited you to go with him but knowing that his friends were there, spefically the boy that you wanted to avoid at all cost, it was safe to say that you had declined his offer, opting for the company of your friends instead.

Though, your brother didn't prod further, he was confused as to why you wouldn't want to, considering that if any other circumstances that his friends (Jisung) were to be there, you would be up in your feet to join in uninvited. So the fact that you would say no to his invitation, which he rarely would do as you would constantly be up in his best friend's business and take his attention away, makes this all more confusing to the male. Especially so, since he could see the disappointed look on Jisung's face when he announced that you were heading off with your own friends.

What had happened between the two of you?

"I'm so glad you kids could make it!" Your grandmother's warmth engulfed you in a hug, pulling along your brother.

"We're glad we could make it too."

"You can settle in while I prepare dinner for us, as a family." Your grandmother shed a tear.

"Mom, you promised not to cry." Your mother said, shaking her head.

"I know, I know but give me a break. It's been awhile since I get to see my grandchildren." She scolded, giving both you and Chenle a peck on the cheeks.

"Both of you have grown up so well!"

After the long flight, there's nothing more for you to want than to lie down on your bed, giving a warmful greeting to your grandmother, you made your way towards the bedroom that your grandmother had kindly prepared for the both of you.

"It's still the same as before we left." You commented, taking a glance around the room.

"Yeah, no shit." Chenle scoffed, "I'm suprised she still kept my toys." He picked his collection of car toys and began admiring it.

"That's 'cause you would bitch if anyone comes near it." You retorted.

"I do not!"

"You so do." You said back. "Remember that time when Jisun—"

You cut yourself off, having had your words spill out before your brain could even fully comprehend what you were saying. Shit! Even when he's not here, you caught yourself thinking about him. Fuck me!

"That time when he?" Chenle drawled, wanting you to finish but seeing the way your face dropped, he couldn't help but question something that has been itching his mind. "You're being awfully distant with Jisung."

You frozed, luckily your brother didn't notice as he continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're not some crazed idiot around him anymore." He chuckled, "But he's talked about you often."

You perked up, your facial expression seemed to have been to obvious as Chenle spoke up again. "Yeah, I was shocked too. I don't know what happened between you two but, uh, I hope you guys sort that out." He laid down on the bed with a loud yawn.

"What did he say about me?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. Chenle could only offer a shrug, "He always asked if you're with this Seungmin guy or when you would come to our dorm. I don't know but it's nothing to crazy 'cause I know how you like to overanalyse stuff." He said lightheartedly.

But boy, was he right.

Because what were you even suppose to do with the new-found information. It should've been obvious that Jisung would try make amends. You assumed that it was mostly out of guilt, but you hadn't expected him to risk blowing his cover by asking about you from Chenle, considering he was very determined to keep this little ordeal a secret.

One thing for sure is that you were very confused.

Jisung was confusing you.

Before you could say anything else, your grandmother's voice called you out, annoucing that dinner was ready.

"Finally! I'm starving."

You hadn't expect dinner with your family to be as awkward as it is, but you couldn't but feel that way when your parents are very prying about your love lives. It's not like you could tell them that you used to have a sexual relationship with your brother's best friend without his knowledge and stupidly ended up breaking your heart so you're currently in the process of healing. There's just no way!

So yet there you are, sitting quietly as you let your parents ramble on about your current status.

"What about Seungmin?" Chenle spoke up, his smug smile evident as he saw the way your eyes widened.

"Shut up, idiot!" You hit your brother's shoulder in irritation, "It's not like that!"

"Hey! No fighting in the table." Your mother scolded, and after a brief pause she continued, "So, when do we get to meet this boy?"

"Um, never! He's not my boyfriend." You denied, shaking your head.

Chenle scoffed, "Oh, please. As if you guys don't hang around in campus everyday."

"I swear—"

"So, I'm guessing your crush on Jisung is finally over." This time, your father concluded, a smile on his lips as he enjoyed watching your panicked state.

"Oh, right. That sweet boy." Your mother said, "You guys would look so cute together!"

Chenle faked gagged. "Don't make me throw up, mom!"

"No way! I'm not into Jisung anymore." You scowled, hand slapping against the wooden table. "And neither am I in a relationship. Can we please target Chenle now."

Chuckles filled in the room as your face was red, as if you were suffering from a frostbite.

"Speaking of Jisung, he might stop by here tomorrow." Chenle announced, which earned an excited gasp from your mother.

You dropped your fork, food caught in your throat from shock as you cough relentlessly. Gasping for air as you patted your chest.

"What do you mean 'stop by', like he's gonna book a flight to come here?" You were baffled with this discovery, taking a huge gulp of water that your mother handed out to you.

"Uh, yeah." Chenle deadpanned, "His parents are out doing business in Shanghai so he decided to join us. I hope that's okay with you guys."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" Your grandmother agreed, "We have more company to celebrate my birthday."

"But—"

"I haven't seen Jisung in awhile, I can't wait for him to come!"

Just fucking great!

SATURDAY.

You felt like you were going crazy.

It has been approximately 3 hours since Jisung had arrived here, along with Chenle, who had picked him up from the airport. You thought you would be mature enough to face him but aside from your cold greetings, Jisung never seemed to be as talkative to you as he was before and for some unknown reason, you were frustated with that because now, it feels like you were back to square one. It makes it seem as if you were the one waiting for him to notice you. You hated this constant back and forth. A part of secretly thinking that this was Jisung's plan all along, to string you along and make you think he was interested when you ended things but in reality, it was all for shits and giggles in the end. That sudden thought made your heart churned.

Because how could Jisung just sit there and laugh, acting as if he has the right to? You were boiling from anger, hating the fact that he was there, sitting on the couch, playing video games with your brother as if it's some normal occurence. It's not like he cared enough about your grandmother's birthday, hell! He had only seen her a few times when he was younger so why the hell would he come here and spend his weekends with your family when he could just stay back home with his friends, having parties and drinking away? It's not like he couldn't see Chenle afterwards anyways. It was frustating to see him at every corner you turned to.

What was he really doing here?

You watched in exasperation as Jisung's eyes were focused on the screen in front of him. You hate him. You hate how he had the audacity to come here. You hate the fact that he didn't care how much he hurted you. And most importantly, you hated that even after what he did, just him sitting there could make your heart flutter every single time since you were kids.

You really hate him.

But of course, that didn't stop you from hanging out with them. To be fair, your mother was practically forcing you to go out with your brother, saying that you could 'use some fresh air' and that it could be 'the perfect opportunity to help Jisung find gifts for your grandmother', considering he came in empty-handed and felt guilty if he had nothing to give.

So here you are, walking at the back as you tuned out the conversation the both of them were having. Hand in pocket as you kicked rocks that you saw on the pavement, boredom consuming you. It seemed as if Jisung could sense your aura because he turned around mid-convo, a soft smile displayed on his face as he watched your actions. Chenle noticed and began calling out to you, which made you jump from how loud his voice was.

Walking towards an antique shop (that your mother had suggested since your grandma's always into vintage findings), Jisung held the door out for you and you thanked him softly, wanting to appear civil. Inside, you could already see that Chenle was talking to the shop owner, you didn't bother listening and just assumed that he was looking for something specific that Jisung could give.

Walking away as you began to look through the shop, vintage items displayed on the shelves as you try to avoid the other male, pretending as if you looked preoccupied.

"Ah, I see. I think we have that in here, follow me." The shop owner responded as she motioned Chenle to follow her.

"You can go look around." Chenle looked at Jisung, "Find something that you think she'd might like."

"Sure thing."

And that was when Jisung began walking towards your direction, face full of determination. Your back was facing him, which gave him the opportunity to sneak behind you without you running away.

"Hey." You jumped, your hand gripping onto a small vase that you were admiring.

"Can you not." You groaned.

"Liste—"

"No." You interrupted firmly. "Can you please get away from me?"

You moved a couple steps away when he snatched the item you were holding, hand up in the air as he uses his height, putting you at a disadvantage.

"Hey! What the hell?"

"Just listen to me. For once." He begged, the sudden frustation in his eyes evident.

"You don't get to feel angry right now." You fumed, "I made it clear at the party that I want nothing to do with you."

"I know—"

"Then why are you still trying!" You whisper-yelled, not wanting to cause a commotion that it already has. "Why are you— mmph!"

For the first time, that anticipating moment that you have been dreaming of felt like you weren't in reality. No amount of warnings could've prepared you for what was about to come.

He smashed his lips against yours.

It was as if time slowed down. As clichè as it was, you couldn't help but feel the utter shock. A fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach, the lust clouding your vision as you take in the sudden action, eyes widening as Jisung's grip began making its way towards your neck, stabilising your movements. You should've pushed him away, yell at him, scream at him and maybe throw a punch at his handsome face but your stupid heart reacted faster than any logical scenario that should've happened.

You kissed him back.

With the same amount of desperation and passion that he put into that kiss. You felt like you were losing your mind from the way that you could feel his lips moving softly against yours, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip that you couldn't help but open, his tongue softly massaged the wet muscle of yours and you couldn't help but feel like you were in cloud nine. He was being very slow with his movements, as if not wanting to scare you away. Your hand held onto his neck as you deepened the kiss, desperately wanting to feel more.

What. The. Fuck!

Your mind was screaming, cursing at you for your stupidity but your heart simply shut down, wanting to savour the moment as much as you could.

Just then, before it could progress any further, Jisung had stupidly let go of the vase that he was holding, completely forgetting that he had it. The sound of the vase smashing made both of you reeled back into reality as Jisung jumped from the sudden commotion. But it was the least of your worries as you began to feel a slight sting on your ankle.

A bad day to wear a short pants.

"Ow!" You yelped, looking down at your legs to see a line of gushing blood, the shattered glass was pouring around the both of you.

"Oh shit, are you okay!?" Jisung asked frantically, hand holding your legs as he inspected the wound.

"What's happening there?" Chenle called out, walking towards the scene.

Looking down at the wound on your legs, he could see it was becoming worse, seeing the way you were holding onto Jisung's shoulder for support.

"Shit!" He cursed. "I think she got cut by the glass!"

"Is everything okay here?" The shop owner exclaimed.

"No, ma'am. My sister accidentally dropped the vase." Chenle explained, which caused the lady sighed in annoyance, "That was one of the most expensive item here!"

"I'm sorry," You uttered profusely, "I'll pa—"

"I'll pay for it!" Jisung interfered, "It was my fault anyways."

"Dude, are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He turned back, facing the lady. "So, where can I pay?"

And that's when the three of you ended up going to the nearest convenience store to treat your wound. After a few arguements here and there, you had resorted into refusing to return back home, not wanting to hear an earful from your nagging mother.

"Let's go to the convenience store, we're quite far from grandma's house anyways." Your brother pointed out.

"It hurts," You limped, face scrunching into pain.

"I'll carry you." Jisung offered.

"What?" Both you and Chenle said in astonishment.

"It's not a big deal," The taller male shrugged off, hands inside his pocket as he looked around, "The walk isn't that far."

"It's fine—"

"I insist." He said firmly.

"Well, I'm telling you that it's not necessary." You said pointedly.

"I beg to differ."

"I can do it!"

"No, you can't."

"Yes—"

"Oh, just let him carry you already." Chenle butted in, "At this rate, your wound would already be healed from you guys bantering."

"We were not bantering." Jisung retorted.

"Whatever." Chenle waved off, walking off first.

You felt nervous all of the sudden. Sure, the both of you have done way more sexual stuff than this and it shouldn't bother you in any way.

But it is.

Because it's different when your feelings are on the line. That kiss was something you've never felt before. You were beginning to feel that your emotions were going haywire. You thought you had it under control but it was obvious that Jisung still had you wrapped around his fingers.

You didn't know whether you hated it or not.

Lifting yourself off the ground, your legs securely wrapped on his waist as his hand gently held you up, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs and you were using every once of self-control to not squirm around his touch.

The walk was suprisingly peaceful, well, as peaceful as it can be because even though you were under Jisung's arms, you tend to forget the watchful eyes of your brother, scrutinising every single movement from the both of you. You could tell he was beginning to suspect something and that made you worry a little for Jisung but you remained calm, not wanting to make the situation more awkward that it already has. Even when Chenle had offered to be the one to patch you up, Jisung refused and did it instead, practically shoving the other to get to you.

Applying the ointment on your leg, you hissed at the pain and Jisung paused his action, concern in his eyes as he kept checking up on you. Chenle could only watch the interaction in silence, confused with the sudden closeness the both of you had.

"We should get grandma a cake on the way." He interrupted the moment, seeing the way the both of you snapped back out of trance.

The whole celebration afterwards went well and it seemed as if Chenle had forgotten the whole event afterwards, considering he never questioned you about what happened, which you were thankful for. After the birthday, you would've have suspect that things would go back to normal, though, you underestimate how much the world seemed to hate you...

"Jisung, you can sleep at the room instead." Your mother said.

"Uh, and where am I suppose to sleep?" You interjected, knowing damn well you would rather die than to sleep (not sexually) with your brother and his best friend.

"Oh, don't be silly." Your mother laughed, "We have plenty of cushions in the couch."

"Are you seriously gonna make me sleep here." You asked incredulously.

"On second thought." Chenle interrupted, "I think we both can sleep here and she can have the room all to herself."

"But—"

"I agree too, Mrs Zhong. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality but I don't mind sleeping outside."

You sighed in relief.

"Well, make yourself as comfortable as you can." Your mother turned away to face both you and Chenle, "Please be at your best behaviour, this has been the most happiest I've seen your grandma's been so please don't ruin it for her and unfortunately, I won't be able to get a good cell service at the hotel so please be careful and don't get into trouble while your father and I are away."

"Got it, mom." The both of you mumbled in unison at your mother's rambling.

And for the first few hours you were left alone in the room while you could hear the sounds of the roaring laughter from Chenle. The noise had quiten down for what felt like hours and you could've assumed that the both of them went to sleep after that, drifting yourself to sleep as well when you hear a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in."

Jisung's head peeked in, "Hi."

"Let's talk." You could tell that he had been waiting for Chenle to be sound asleep before making his way here, considering that he was very fidgety than normal.

"It's not like I have much of a choice." You sighed, knowing that deep down, you were already mentally prepared for the conversation.

He ignored your snarky comment, "I kissed you."

"Well, that's one way to start." You chuckled, "But go on."

"Look, I know you hate my guts right now and I should've left you alone when you told me to." He let out a shaky breath, "But I couldn't, when you started hanging out with that guy, I started to realise how much I like you. I know I'm selfish but I didn't know what to do when I realised it, I thought if I acted more possessive it would've made my feelings clear but instead I pushed you away."

You listened intensely, fingers gripping the sheet as you chewed your bottom lip. A million thoughts ran through your mind.

"It's a shitty excuse, I'll admit but I just want you to know that I regret treating you like you don't matter because you do, very much." He finished off, watching the way you were silent throughout. "I understand if you don't want me around so I'll stop trying." He retreated back.

Okay, this is it. You wanted to this all along, right?

Why do you feel the sudden urge to stop him... fuck it!

"Aren't you going to listen what I have to say?"

He paused, hand lingering on the door knob as he turned around, watching as you slowly remove yourself from bed. You were currently wearing a loose shirt and a low pants. Jisung gulped nervously as you began to get closer to him.

"Do you really mean that?" You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Jisung's brows rose as he let out a soft scoff, "Every word."

"And you're not doing this because you feel bad." You tilted your head in suspicion, eyes squinting as you try to detect a lie. "Well, that's part of it."

"But it's mostly because I don't want to lose you. I really care about you."

That seemed to be the answer that you were looking for because after those words left his lips, you reached up on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. His eyes widened slightly and for a moment, his lips didn't seem to react and he stood still in shock. You were beginning to regret doing that as he was being unresponsive, wanting nothing more than to cower away in embarassment but just as you pulled away from him slightly, he began to chase after you. His hands had gotten hold at the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss as his other one made its way to your waist.

This time, he nibbled your bottom lip and didn't hesitate to shove his tongue deep into your mouth. You moaned at the contact as you gripped onto his shirt, your legs were struggling to meet the ground due to his height. Fortunately, he took noticed and tapped on your thighs, signalling you to jump and you did. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as his hands securely groped your ass to maintain the balance, he began walking towards the bed all while giving kisses from your chin down to your neck, licking and sucking it.

Laying you down under the soft duvet covers, he began trailing down his kisses to your collarbone. Just as he was about to remove your article of clothing, he looked up to meet your eyes, silently asking you if you were okay with continuing.

"Yes." You breathed out, whimpering when he roamed his hands around your breast, his warms fingers rubbed against your hardened nipples which cause you to moan loudly.

You covered your mouth almost immediately. Jisung took your hands away and replaced with his mouth instead, swallowing your noises as his hands played with your breast.

"You gotta be quiet, princess." He whispered, his lips hovered against yours, you were lying if you said that nickname didn't make you feel something inside, "Or else you're gonna wake someone up. Wouldn't want that happening would you?"

You shook your head, your hand holding onto his shirt as you begged him, "Please, I'll be quiet. Just do something."

He laughed at your neediness and began removing your shorts, along with your panties. What he saw didn't disappoint him as he could see your glistening cunt out in the open, his mouth watering to get a savouring taste. Without warning, he gave kitty licks at your pussy, and you shuddered under his touch, legs wrapped around his face, almost suffocating him. But the male above you didn't seem to mind as he only pushed his face further into you, his long slender finger pried open your hole to shove his tongue deeper.

"A-Ah, Jisung." You quietly moaned, "I'm gonna cum."

That seemed to encourage the male to go faster, lifting your hips up as he began eating you out like a starved man.

Feeling the familiar orgasm, you shut your eyes as you covered your mouth, preventing the erotic sounds from escaping. You felt a sudden fuzziness over the immense feeling that you didn't notice that Jisung had taken off his clothes as well.

"You did so well, princess." He praised, hand gently caressing your fuck-out face. "Think you can handle more?"

You nodded eagerly, whining when he pulled away slightly.

"I need words, baby." He said, "Tell me you want this."

"Please, Jisung. I want this." You whined, "I want you."

He pressed his lips against you once more, your hand immediately went to wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Getting indulged in the messy kiss, you were yelped in shock when he began to rub his cock onto yours.

Jisung stopped when he noticed your state, but you only whined further, your hips bucking against his boner, begging him to fill you up, which only made the male continue his previous actions.

"Wait, Jisung." You said, which cause him to look up at you. "Can you please hold my hand?"

His heart softened at your request. Despite the abnormal amount of sex the both of you had, this was one that was undeniably the most intimate that the both of you went. You were always used to rough and angry sex with Jisung but this time, it was full of love and passion. It felt like the both of you were pouring your heart out into this. And for that, you were nervous because you were now able to express yourself in a way that you've always wanted to with Jisung.

And for the first time, he reciprocated those feelings.

So as he held tightly onto your small hands, interlocking them. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting more faster each second as he stared lovingly into your eyes. Feeling a sudden wave of insecurity wash through you by the intense gaze, you looked away in embarassment. But that only seemed to disappoint the male as he let go one of his hold on your hand and gently tilted your face to meet his. Offering a warm smile, he kissed you once more, washing away all your worries as the both of you engage in the sloppy kisses. His tongue coaxed against yours as his thrust began to pick up its pace, bringing the both of you to your orgasms.

Letting out muffled moans, the both of felt the feeling of euphoria when you came undone. Your lips lazily moved against his and he pulled away. You whined at the sudden contact and Jisung couldn't help but laugh at your cuteness.

Walking away towards the bathroom that was thankfully connected to the bedroom as he announced that he needed to clean you up.

You laid back down comfortably, you felt like your heart was bursting as you let the scene repeat itself on your mind, giddiness consumed you as you covered yourself under the blanket.

Soon, Jisung came in with a cloth in hand. Gently, the male urged you to open your legs as he began cleaning you up. The cold breeze of the cloth made you shiver. Once he was done, he helped you with your clothes, slowly positioning you so that you would be able to wear your clothes.

With that, he made his way to his clothes that he threw across the room and began putting them on before making his way towards the bed, cuddling by your side as the both of you faced each other. His face buried at the crook of your neck.

"We need to keep this a secret." He pulled away slightly, after a moment of comfortable silence.

"What? Why?" You felt your heart breaking, feeling the moment being completely ruined.

He sighed, "He still thinks I'm having a fling with NingNing."

"Well, are you?"

"Of course not!" He asked incredulously, "How could you think that?"

"Well, what's the problem then?" You couldn't help but get annoyed at where the topic was heading.

"Chenle will kill me." There it was.

"Chenle doesn't control what we do." You said disappointedly. "Are you embarassed of me?"

"No! No, of course not." Jisung caressed your face, making you face him. The look he had in his eyes made you soften your gaze, the anger you felt slowly dissipitating when you heard the sincerity in his words. "Look, I'll deal with this as soon as I can, just in the meantime, can we pretend as if we're not together."

You looked away, but he kept his grip on your chin, forcing to face him as he pleaded. "Please, I swear I'll try to work this out."

"Okay." You sighed, and that was when he leaned down to give you a passionate kiss.

"Thank you."

"But how do you know he won't like it though?" You pulled away.

"So, I'm guessing whatever rift you have with my sister is over?" Chenle spoke up, his gaze focused on the screen as he continued to play the game.

"What?"

"You heard me," Chenle laughed, "Whatever you guys have must be pretty intense but I guess I'm glad you made up."

(More like make out.)

"Just a question, do you like her?" Chenle asked, his tone suddenly turning serious.

This was it. This will be the moment he gets to tell him the whole truth. He was about to answer when Chenle spoke up again.

"Because if you, I'll literally beat your fucking ass." Chenle laughed, smacking Jisung at the back of the head.

Or not.

Jisung let out a nervous chuckle, "Of course not, idiot."

"Good. Good." Chenle hummed, "So, maybe you should set boundaries with her, wouldn't want to give her the wrong idea."

"I just know." Jisung said firmly.

SUNDAY.

The morning light shine through the curtains, awakening you as you toss to your side, stretching your arms. You can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when you couldn't feel anything beside you, realising that Jisung was not by your side and that he had left. You let his words replay at the back of your mind.

We need to keep this a secret.

You just hoped that it wouldn't backfire on you as you let out a loud sigh, walking towards the bathroom to freshen up.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you were already greeted by breakfast that your grandmother had cooked, Chenle and Jisung were already feasting as if it was their last meal.

"You guys couldn't even wait for me." You grumbled, taking a seat across Jisung.

You smiled softly at the boy, a blush appearing on your cheek as you tried to remain calm.

"It's not our fault you slept like a pig."

Chenle rolled his eyes.

"At least I don't eat like one."

He only stuck his tongue out in mockery, which you returned back with the same gesture, causing the male beside him to chuckle at your childish bickering.

Your grandmother, took a seat beside you as she gave both of you a light scolding about behaving.

Minutes passed with light chattering across the dining and while in admist of eating, a devious plan came to your mind. Slowly lifting your feet, you let it wander around Jisung's legs, rubbing it up and down while you ate your meal, acting as if you weren't doing anything. Jisung tensed at the action, stopping his words as he let out a huge gulp, discreetly glancing at you. You, however, didn't pay no mind to the male as you continued munching on your food innocently.

It went on for a few minutes before you decided to test the waters some more, opting to trail your feet nearer to his crotch, which made him choke on his food.

"Yo, Ji. You, okay there?" Your brother called out, patting the other's back.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Is the food not to your liking?" Your grandmother asked, concern laced in her voice.

"No!" He interjected, "No, of course not! I love your cooking." He let out a nervous chuckle before turning to face you, glaring into your eyes as if he was warning you. Deciding to push his buttons, you pressed your feet against his crotch and began rubbing it in a circular motion, which causes the male to let out a quiet groan. Hand to his head as his forehead started to sweat. This only encourages you to apply more pressure, feeling his clothed area, which has now hardened.

"Dude, are you seriously okay?" Chenle asked, to which the male have no choice but to lie to save himself, "Yeah, I think I'm having a bit of a headache actually." He groaned, lifting his hips up to meet your feet, pretending as if he was readjusting his position.

"Do you need some medicine?" Your grandmother stood up, "I have some in the cabinet."

You watched as Jisung nodded, his body hunched over as if he was trying to control himself. His orgasm nearing as he felt like he eas losing his sanity. You smirked before deciding that he has had enough, drawing back your feet.

Jisung was glad that it took everything for him to not make a noise at the lost of contact, practically leaving him with blue balls all while trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's sister had just rubbed him off under the dining table.

He watched in anger as you excused yourself from the table, walking towards the kitchen as you briefly announced that you were going to head to the bathroom, he saw the way your eyes twinge with mischief, a smug smile placed on your lips as you walked past him. He was forced to stay behind longer to avoid suspicion, downing the pill that your grandma had so graciously handed as he pretended that he was getting better.

Score!

A minute or so in the bathroom, you heard a knock outside, you smile in victory as you knew who it was going to be. Just as you creaked open the door, it was pushed harshly as Jisung shoved his way inside, locking it on the way in. Not giving you the time to react as he smashed his lips against yours hungrily.

"You think that way funny, huh?" He huffed, pulling away from the kiss. "Do you know how much I could get in trouble?"

You shrugged innocently.

"Why don't you punish me then?"

"Just you wait." He said, trailing his kisses down your collarbone, teeth grazing your flesh as you hummed in satistaction.

Just as you were about to rip off his shirt, he grabbed your hands as he turned you around. Your back against his chest as your front was pressed up against the door. His hands coming up to hold your throat, forcing you to face him.

"Jisung, please hurr— ah!" You moaned when the male began spanking your backside, his hand groped against it harshly.

"You're in no position to demand." He sneered, moving his hands to the front of your shorts as he pulled them down hastily, making a move to roll up your shirt.

"No bra?" He tsked, which caused you to whimper when he began pinching your nipples. "That's good, makes it easier instead of ripping them off."

Without warning, he began shoving his two long index fingers down your wet cunt, you squirmed under his touch but his other hand went to hold your mouth, blocking the noises from escaping. He lowered his face to your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipples as he looked up to see your fucked-out face, observing the drool that dripped down your chin, that was also making his fingers wet. He loved seeing you get ruined so he quickened the pace, fastening his fingers as his mouth works wonders on your tits.

"I'm gonna come!" You whimpered, "Please, let me cum!"

Thankfully, your pleads were enough for him as he let you finish out your orgasm, watching the way your body spasmed under his touch.

Without giving you a chance to breathe, he turned you back around and held your shoulders, pulling you down to your knees. Understanding his signals, you began unzipping his pants and pulling out his hardened cock. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you into his cock, watching the way your mouth sucks in his length with such ease. He groaned, which made you bobbed your head faster, tongue swirling around his dick.

"Y-Yeah! Just like that." He threw his head back, hand controlling your movements, "Don't stop! Ah!"

Unfortunately, odds were not in Jisung's favour today because just as he was about to release, he heard knocking on the other side of the door. Panic sets in as he wanted to pull you away, but you had stubbornly wrapped your hands around his hips, your mouth taking his whole.

"Y-Yes?"

"Yo, dude!" Chenle called out, "Are you in there? 'Cause you need to hurry up and pack your stuff. Our flight is in the next 2 hours!"

"Ah! Gotcha—oh!" He groaned.

"Are you taking a shit in there?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"Y-eah," Jisung didn't miss a beat. "My stomach's sensitive today— fuck!" That seemed to be enough of an answer because your brother didn't pry further, instead saying, "Alright. If you see my sister anywhere, relay that message I said earlier. I can't find her in the room."

"Mhm, w-will do!" He heard footsteps walking away, which nade him lean his head back against the wooden door.

And that is when he felt himself release his load in your mouth, you swallowing his cum with lust in your eyes. Lifting you up, the both of you shared one last kiss before rushing to clean off, hoping that Chenle wouldn't notice anything.

MONDAY.

"I told Hyunjin to stop bringing girl to the dorm because he always gets too loud in bed." Seungmin complained, "It's so awkward the next morning too!"

"Uhuh."

He eyed you, watching as you were distracted with something on your mind, "And then, the girl ask for a threesome so I did it with both of them, outside the balcony." He lied, watching as you didn't perk up at his bizzare story.

"Cool." You said off-handedly.

"So, I'm assuming that it went not so well." Seungmin observed, watching as you zooned out on him, which causes the male to snap his hands in front of you.

"What?"

"Nevermind." He scoffed playfully, "Seems like you have a lot on your plate.

"You have no idea." You laughed nervously. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He laughed, "I don't blame you. We're barely given any breaks, it's driving me crazy too." You nodded, humming to his words as the both of you walked around campus.

"If you want, we can hang out by th—"

Before the male could finish his sentence, he was cut off by another person making their way towards the both of you. Jisung's arms wrapped around you tightly as he basically pulled you away from the other.

"Hi." Jisung greeted the both of you, though he was only keeping his gaze on you and completely ignoring the other.

"Hey."

After the trip, you had become well-aware of Jisung's hatred towards Seungmin, which was purely out of jealousy. So it came to no suprise that the said boy would suddenly appear between the two of you in the middle of the hallway, squeezing his way to maintain the space and slightly shoving the brown-haired boy. Despite his rudeness, Seungmin was never one to retaliate or confront the other as he was mainly looking at your reaction, to see if you were okay with what's happening and upon seeing your lack of discomfort, Seungmin could only assume that you were back together with Jisung and as much as he tried to remain optimistic for you, he lacked trust for the taller male.

So as he watched Jisung dragged you away while you uttered your goodbye to him, he can't help but dislike the fact that you were willing to go back to Jisung, considering all the things he had done. He didn't want to verbalise his concern as he knew it would upset you so he sighed in defeat, walking towards his lecture.

On the other hand, a string of complaints escaped from your mouth as Jisung's hand were tightly held onto your wrist, dragging you towards a random supply closet. However, your words were cut short when he smashed his lips onto yours, silencing you all while letting his wandering hands trail down below your private area, his lips moving along your jawline. You smiled, secretly liking his jealously.

"Might want to make it quick." You mumbled against his lips, "Or else Chenle might look for you." Your eyes landed on his ringing phone, his best friend calling him in the middle of his situation. The male didn't hesitate to press the decline button before tossing it to the other side of the room, mumbling, "Let's not worry about that."

And that was a week spent fooling around. You would have assumed that you kept it on a low profile but you were proven dead wrong when you were caught smiling to yourself on your phone while your friends shared knowing glances among themselves.

"You seem so giddy recently." Chaeryeong pointed out. "Are you seeing someone?"

Sitting there, you were stunned with the question, snapping out of trance as you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat awkwardly.

"No."

"Oh, she totally is!" Yunjin teased, "Who's the lucky guy?" You denied further, "No one." Which only causes the both of them to only pry oncr more, whining exaggeratedly to get the answer out of you. "Please, we really want to know!"

You laughed at their childish nature and for a moment, there was a brief hesitation as you contemplated whether you should air out your situation to them about Jisung. You knew the both of them disliked the male for what he did, but maybe after a logical explanation, they might undertand.

So that is what you did, you began to explain in details of what went down during the trip to your grandma's house and you watched as their smiles contorted into frowns, you ignored it thinking that the both of them were just being attentive as you continued on with your story.

"What?" Both of them said in unison, incredulously.

"It's serious, this time." You repeated.

"Yeah, we heard that the first time." Chaeryeong scoffed, "But this is Jisung we're talking about."

You sighed, knowing that the two of them still hated his guts no matter what and were now reprimanding you for your actions, you slumped against the seat, the mood of the atmosphere completely being lifted down.

"Are we talking about the same person here?"

"Look, it looks messy but I promise he's changed." You justified, once again.

"So, you guys are in a public relationship." Chaeryeong rebutted.

"Well, not exact—"

"I knew it!" Yunjin lifted up her hands in irritation. "Girl, he's just using you again and you fell for it!"

"That's not true!"

"How blind could you be?" Chaeryeong scolded.

You scoffed.

"Okay, you guys can stop attacking for me now. I really don't need it."

"Right, 'cause it seems like you need to be fucked over by someone multiple times for you to get it." Chaeryeong retaliated.

"Chae—" Yunjin intervened but was shut down by you, "No, let her finish. I want to hear what she has to say next."

"You let Jisung fuck you over because you have no self-respect for yourself!"

Silence filled the table for a moment as none of them were making an attempt to say anything else.

"You know what? Fuck you guys!" You stormed off, grabbing your belongings as you leave the place in anger.

To be concerned is one thing, but to go out of their way to imply that you were easy is a little harsh. Though, you could tell that it was in the heat of the moment considering that Chaeryeong's eyes widened for a second, completely baffled with what she had just said too. She knew she went too far but she couldn't bring herself to apologise, not when you were out here making stupid decisions and being reckless with your behaviour. She hoped that she hadn't pushed you away with her words.

But it seems like it has.

Because pushing the weeks in, you had not said a single thing to any of them, completely ignoring them as you opted to hang out with Seungmin and his friends instead. To say that Yunjin and Chaeryeong were upset was an understatement, the both of them were hurt that you would dropped them for a boy who had caused you emotional damage. Though, Yunjin understood your side and had asked Chaeryeong to apologise and make amends. But the other refused as she was being hard-headed.

The friendship between the three of you started to crack and as much as it pained you, you couldn't possibly bring yourself to face them as you were left upset with their harsh words. To be fair, Yunjin didn't contribute much, but you were still upset at both iof them nonetheless. Even Jisung had started to notice your sour demeanour, from the way you would seem down and distracted while he tried his best to lift up your mood, making sweet gestures and playing the role of a caring boyfriend. Of course, in secrecy when no one is around.

As much as you appreciated it, you can't help but get annoyed when he would blow you off for his friends, or rather, your brother. It seems as though he hasn't made an attempt to tell Chenle about your relationship despite being constantly reminded to, you would have to convince him that Chenle would be okay with it, but the male only shook his head and tells you that he would try to deal with it as soon as he can, in his own way. That had been the usual pattern and you were getting kinda worried that your friends might've been right all along. Though, you had to give him the benefit of the doubt, considering that he had told one of his friends about you, which was Haechan, who honestly didn't look too suprise with the news but ultimately helped the younger keep your relationship a secret.

"Ugh, dude seriously?" Haechan groaned, having had just opened the door, witnessing you straddling Jisung while the both of you make out. "We seat on that couch!"

He watched in amusement as the both of you broke away quickly. You were topless, panickingly trying to find your clothes while Jisung's face was smudged with lipstick, fixing his zipper in a hurry. "Can't you knock!" Jisung looked annoyed.

The older scoffed, leaning against the door frame, "As a matter of fact, I can't. You're lucky I was the one walking in on you guys."

"Still!" You retaliated, fixing yourself up.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes, "Mark and Chenle are on their way here, I had to sprint to get here first so you better thank my ass that I did!"

True to his words because not even a second later, your brother and his other roommate emerged inside the dorm, shocked displayed on their faces when they have discovered you were inside as well.

"Sis? What are you doing here?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"I need to take notes from Jisung." You made up an excuse, getting ready to pack your stuff. "Don't you have your other friends for that?" Your brother rebutted.

"Chill, dude." Haechan patted the younger's back. "If I hadn't known better, you seem like you got a crush on Jisung." He joked, which causes Chenle to hit the older by the shoulder, smacking him relentlessly while his roommates laughed.

"Alright, that's enough." Mark jokingly intervened, "We have to set up this place as soon as we can."

That seemed to caught your attention.

"Why? What are you guys doing?"

"None of your business, nosy." Chenle retorted.

"We're having a party." Mark answered instead, "The boys made a draw and it's our turn to host the party."

"Oh." You looked towards Jisung, confused as to why he didn't tell you. "Yeah, so if you don't mind, can you leave and come back again once we're done." Chenle said, making his way to his room, Mark and Haechan following behind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked, now that it was just you two. He shrugged, "It's not a big deal. It's just some stupid party."

"Okay then." You said monotonously, walking away.

But Jisung seemed to pick up on your mood, following you close behind.

"No, wait, baby." He grabbed your wrist, turning you around, "Why are you upset?"

"I'm upset because you always keep secrets from me and we were supposed to hang out tonight. Were you just gonna bail me last minute?" You asked in annoyance but the male shook his head, "No, of course not. I wasn't even planning to stay. I'm just helping them set up."

You laughed, "As if Chenle would let you bail."

"I'll try to sneak out."

You hesitated.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Of course."

You should've known not to be easily led on, especially when Jisung hadn't picked up his calls despite it being hours ago. You shrugged it off, thinking he was still busy but you soon came to find Haechan's instagram story, a picture where all of them were partying in their dorm, including Jisung.

You were boiling from anger, "Seungmin, can you do me a favour?"

Thankfully, the drive wasn't far, and Seungmin had been kind enough to give you a ride as you made your way to the party. For some reason, a part of you had a feeling this wouldn't end well but you decided to push it aside as you walked towards the front door. You were immediately greeted by a stench of alcohol, drunk people swaying around as you hear cheering from a distance. Walking towards the noise in search for your boyfriend as Seungmin trailed behind you, gulping nervously at your hot-headed demeanour.

There stood, Jisung, a hand holding a ping pong ball while he stuck his tongue out in concentration, eyes squinting to get a good aim for the red solo cup. For a moment, it seemed harmless and you would've felt a bit embarassed for overreacting but when the cheering became louder as Jisung scored a point, you couldn't help but stay rooted on your spot, eyes focused on Jisung as his friends cheered him on with a pat to his back.

Just then, NingNing came into view and pulled the male by the neck to plant a kiss to his lips, wolf whistles followed after and you could've swore that you heard your heart shattered in the process. You watched as tears rolled down your eyes, betrayal in the pit of your stomach as Jisung looked stunned, not making an attempt to pull away.

Conveniently, right as he did, his eyes landed onto yours and you saw how his eyes widened in shock, mouth hung open as if he was trying to come up with an excuse.

You scoffed and began walking away, ignoring the calls of your name as Jisung squeezed his way between the crowds of drunkard people.

"Wait!" Jisung grabbed your arm, stopping you just as had gotten outside. "I can explain—"

You ripped his hand away in disgust, "No need. You made things perfectly clear back there."

He called your name again in desperation.

"Please, just hear me out."

"No!" You shouted, "I'm sick of being treated like an idiot."

"I'll admit, you fooled me once. It was on you." You laughed bitterly, "But you did it again and again, so now, I can't even blame you. Because I am such a fucking idiot to believe you would have changed."

"I have!"

"No, you haven't!" You retorted, "You don't care about me because all you ever do is come to me whenever you need to fill out your desires, you are fucking selfish!"

"Please." He whispered, urgency laced in his tone.

"I should've never trusted you and I'm dead serious when I say I want you to leave me the fuck alone now."

He took a step forward, hand holding your wrist desperately, "No, I can fix—"

"I don't want anything to do with you, Jisung!" You pulled away.

"Please. Please, I'm really sorry!" He grabbed you again, pleads and begs as strings of apologies escaped his mouth.

"I don't care!"

"It was a mistake. I have no feel—"

"She told you to back off!" Ultimately, it was Seungmin who had cutted him off, shoving the other to the ground.

Jisung stood up in anger, red in the face. "Why don't you mind your goddamn business!"

"She made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with you, man! Respect that!" He spits, which only frustates Jisung, scoffing lightly as he provoked, "You know she doesn't fucking like you, right? You've been stuck in the friendzone for like what? 3 months? Wished it was you who gets to fuck her instead, huh?"

"Guys, let's not—" You intervened, but it was too late because Seungmin threw the first punch. Blood dripping on Jisung's nose as you gasped in horror, the male didn't seem too affected with the attack as he tackled Seungmin to the ground, beating him up relentlessly. You stood in shock as you begged them to stop, tears streaming down your cheeks as Seungmin began kicking Jisung's ribs. The whole scene became a mess.

Eventually, the commotion caught the attention of the other people from the party because soon, Chenle and Haechan began pulling both men away from each other, struggling to hold then down.

"Hey! What the fuck is happening?" Chenle looked at you, "What did you do?"

"You should probably ask your friend." Seungmin answered. "He was the one who fucked over your sister!"

Multiple gasps were heard, others watching as the scene unfolds.

Chenle face contorted to confusion as he turned to face the taller male, "What is he talking about Ji?" But the male didn't respond, his head hung low in shame as Seungmin chuckled humourlessly, "Your friend has been fucking your sister behind your back for months, using her and all that shit but I'm sure Ji over there will explain it to you better."

"Is it true?" Chenle asked in anger, taking a step towards Jisung, which causes Haechan to stop him, "Let's not start anything more, alright?"

"Why?" Chenle prodded, "Do you know about it?" This causes the older to become silent, only confirming what was his answer.

Thankfully, Mark came in and kicked everyone out, making them disperse away from the scene and soon, all of the three boys were left in their messy dorm, having had Seungmin dragged your sobbing mess away, making Jisung the one to explain what he had done.

"This is fucked." Chenle laughed in astonishment. "I mean, not only did you went behind my back but you hurt my sister in the process of doing so."

Jisung could only hung his head in shame.

"I didn't mean to." He meekly uttered.

"But you did!" Chenle yelled, "I've always wondered why she was so obsessed with you but the whole time you were fucking with her mind and making her think she had a chance with you!"

"I didn't fuck with her mind, I love her, okay?" Jisung blurted. "I thought I would do the right thing if— if I just, i don't know! I knew you wouldn't approve of us anyways!"

"Don't fucking twist this shit on me!" Chenle snarled, "Even if you knew I wouldn't approve, why the fuck did you still do it? What was the thought process there? How fucking stupid are you to think you would get away with all this!"

"Dude, let's all calm down, alright." Mark decided to step in, which only causes the younger to get upset.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down." He yelled, causing Mark to take a step back. "He used two people for his own selfishness! Including my sister."

"Don't even get me started on NingNing, you know, the girl you told us you were in love with." He pushed on.

"I wasn't fucking in love with her!" Jisung retaliated, "I only said that so you could get off my fucking back about hooking up with other girls!"

A shocked gasp was heard, just then NingNing made her presence known as a tear drop began to fall down her cheeks, cupping her mouth as she ran away out of their dorm.

"NingNing!"

"Look what you did!" Chenle scolded, running after the poor girl.

But Jisung couldn't say anything, his mouth went dry and his heart went numb. Too many emotions running through his head, it started to hurt. Mark and Haechan took noticed of the younger's condition and decided that he needed some time to think for himself and soon the both of them left the dorm, leaving Jisung all alone.

In all the times he had fucked up, this was really the one he had fucked up the most.

Walking around campus, it was the first time Jisung had gotten stares from people. The huge bruise on his face didn't help the fact that most of the people on campus already knew what went down. At this point, he couldn't bring himself to care as he continued to let his head down while walking through the crowd.

However, just as he past by the entrace, he was greeted by certain girl. His heart dropped in anxiousness as he gulped upon seeing the girl he was scared to face, cowardly as he was, he knew that he should own up to his mistakes and take accountablity.

It's now or never.

"Hi." He said, clearing his throat. "I'm sor—"

"Save it." The girl replied sharply.

Jisung couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes, shame and guilt filling him up as he lowered his head. "Let's talk." NingNing checked her wristwatch, "We still have time to spare before our lecture starts."

"O-Of course, if it's what you like." The girl scoffed at his timidness, "Oh please, this is painful for me as much as it is for you but I think I deserve some explanation, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I know a private place to talk because the campus seems so nosy than ever." She joked ligheartedly, eyes darting around the hall. Truth be told because when Jisung turned his head, he saw other students quickly glancing away as he did so, ‟Follow me.”

It has been days and you were still bombarded with texts and calls, all coming from the same person. The same person that you couldn't bring yourself to remove from. It was frustating how pathetic you would be for a boy. A boy that fooled you twice. At this rate, you were only asking for more heartbreak as your only solution is to ignore those calls and messages instead of blocking it completely. Your heart wouldn‛t be able to handle such an emotional turmoil.

You hadn't been able to attend your lectures, skipping them in order to avoid Jisung. You could hear your roommate telling him to go away whenever he would knock on the door, begging to see you. Overtime, Yunjin and Chaeryeong took empathy at your state and offered you solace as the both of them apologised for their harsh words previously. With their help, you were able to slowly get back to your feet and continue to move forward. Though, it was slightly challenging whenever the male would still attempt to talk to you through texts and calls, all of which you ignored.

But maybe that was what you needed. You thought.

As your hand lingers around the ‘block’ button, you began to feel the slight hesitation. Though, a part of you was aching for it, practically begging you to end the trainwreck once and for all.

And this time, you weren‛t going to look back.

FOUR YEARS LATER.

Heels clicking against the marble floor, you were in frantic as you rushed around the wedding halls to make your way to back of the room. Droplets of sweat on your forehead as you sighed in relief, thankful to have arrived early to help the bride.

‟Well, guess who showed up on time.” The bride teased.

Looking at the bride, her hair was beautifully done up into an elegant low bun as her dress was beautifully tailored, shining her features with the expensive jewellery displayed. The bridesmaids gushed upon her ethereal appearance and you gave yourself a pat on the back for helping out with the choices.

‟I‛m really sorry, NingNing.” You rambled, rushing to her side. "Traffic was crazy today but I bought you a donut because I know you didn't eat anything this morning."

‟Thank you.” She smiled.

‟Are you ready?”

‟Of course I am.” She looked at you worriedly, ‟You‛re really okay with all of this?”

‟Are you crazy?" You deadpanned, "Why wouldn‛t I be?”

‟Maybe because she expected you to freak out.” Yunjin chimed in, ‟I mean, I‛m even suprise you‛re okay with it.”

‟It‛s all in the past, anyways.” You waved off, ‟Plus, we‛re going to be sister-in-laws!”

Three years ago, Chenle and NingNing had began hitting it off. After the night that NingNing heart went broken by his best friend, Chenle consoled her and offered her comfort. It wasn't as sudden as it seems because the both of them didn't gain feeling until a year later, having had been friends first and eventually grew closer. This news hadn't shocked his whole friend group though since their not-so-subtle flirting was as obvious as broad daylight.

Eventually, you had began seeing NingNing often in family gatherings when Chenle were to invite her into one. If you were being honest, through the initial start, it was awkward and tense between the two of you but eventually, you managed to put that aside and NingNing had became one of your close friends. You would occasionally steal her away from Chenle and make her hang out with your friends instead.

Which was why, when Chenle and NingNing had announced their engagement, NingNing had given you the title of 'maid-of-honour' when it was around the time the both of them have planned for their wedding. You were up and arms, in tears of happiness for the couple.

You couldn't have been more content for them.

Though, that meant that you would have to see an expected guest, in which Cenle had informed you beforehand and made sure you were okay with it.

To be completely honest, after blocking his number, you hadn't heard much of him. After graduation, you saw him approaching you but you ultimately shut him down, ignoring his presence and you hadn't seen him since. According to Chenle, he chose to travel abroad for his job in Osaka and although you were shattered with the news, you knew it was for the better as it would be easier for you to move on.

And that was the last time you saw him.

Fast forward as you let out a nervous breath, having had those years being away to finally being able to see him. You didn't know whether you should be excited or nervous.

You watched as NingNing walked across the aisle, holding onto her father as she suppressed her tears of happiness. You looked over towards your brother, watching as he too, held back his tears. Usually, you would've teased him for being emotional but you couldn't help but feel the warmth in your heart as the both of them have finally found love in each other.

As you scanned the wedding halls, your eyes landed onto a familiar pair of eyes. Your heart stopped for a moment as your breath hitched, watching as Jisung stared back at you. A look that you couldn't quite put a finger on.

"It's all good now, Jisung." NingNing assured, "I just thought you liked me from the way Chenle seemed to hype you up."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for leading you on." He apologised, following NingNing as the both of them walked through the empty hallways.

"Jisung, can you do me a favour?" She spoke up, "Stop apologising." She joked.

"Yeah, man." Chenle suddenly appeared, "It's getting annoying."

"Chen—"

"See you later, NingNing." He waved off.

NingNing only winked back as she made her way inside her lecture.

A moment of silence passed by, and Jisung swore he felt more nervous than ever, coming up ways to figure out what he was going to say.

"If you want to say something." Chenle interrupted, "Just say it, the silence is killing me."

"I'm sorry, Chenle." The male uttered, for a moment Chenle looked over in pity at Jisung, watching how distraught he looked. "You know, I was ready to beat you up next." He started, "But if you were really honest from the start, I would've understood you better."

"I'm just upset that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"I'm sorry— ow! Fuck!" Jisung shouted as the other smacked his face harshly, "What was that for?"

"Stop apologising, it's annoying."

"I— dude, I wasn't even going to say it!" He rubbed his other cheek that Chenle had slapped, glaring as Chenle offered him a smug smile. "I know."

He rolled his eyes.

"But in all seriousness." Jisung spoke up, "I really fucked up so is there any way I can make this up?"

Chenle seemed to think about it for a moment, rubbing his chin, "Well, there is one."

"If you like my sister, just go for it. You have my approval this time."

As you watched the both of them exchange their wedding vows, cheers emitted the wedding halls as the newly-wed couple shared a loving kiss. Your eyes scanned back to the crowd.

"Just go." Chaeryeong ushered, "We'll cover you up."

You smiled, thanking her before you quickly rushed off, politely pushing out relatives as you tried to find the black-haired boy.

Just then, you bumped into a certain someone. Looking up, you were suddenly greeted with Seungmin. His warm smile reached his lips as he greeted you.

"Seungmin. You came." You said in shocked.

"Yeah, couldn't miss this out."

Truth be told, Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you a few years ago, to which you had rejected him politely. You would've assumed that would caused some damages to your friendship but he was respectful with your decisions and still remained friends, keeping in touch even after graduation.

"Babe?" A voice suddenly called out, Seungmin turned around, "Hey, this is the maid-of-honour, I was talking about." He turned towards you, uttering your name as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

"It's nice to meet you but I have to go." You said as friendly as you could, not wanting to appear rude.

Seungmin gave you a knowing look.

"Jisung's right by the bar."

You thanked him as you squeezed your way, trying your best to not seemed to eager to see him. As you approached his figure, his back was turned towards you and you hesitated to call out to him.

Hesitantly, you tapped on his back and you watched as he turned around slowly. It seemed as if time had slowed down, as clichè as it sounds, because when you stared longingly into those eyes, it brings back fond memories and deep down, you knew that your feelings for him would never fade, no matter how hard you try to deny it. You wished that the moment would last for eternity. You were relieved when you could see the way he looked back at you lovingly, saying a million thoughts behind those eyes, the thought of which that he had still held those feeling for you just as dearly.

"Hi." You said breathlessly, still in trance.

"Hi." He chuckled, "It's been awhile, do you want to catch up?"

Were you willing to take that chance again?

©ruwriteshours

[hismentor]

Finitevus also got Macaque bingos so I had to see, and-

[hisins]

@siixkiing sent ;; 😏 ( For Macaque~ &lt;w&lt;; )

eyes roll as he leans back on the tree branch he was resting on. not that he really had any shame, but -- perhaps there was SOME embarrassment that can occur when speaking about someone that came with conflicting feelings now.

❝ ya know when we were plotting against the jade emperor, i -- well, if i managed to get that throne... ❞ there's a hand that scratches the back of his neck, ❝ i often thought about us BREAKING it in, ya know ?? ❞ there's a pause as he looks over at the monkey, a frown on his face, ❝ don't make me spell it out for ya -- you can't tell me that you didn't have a thought like that ! ❞

[sanjoongie]

𝑮𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓

⚖️For the See U on the Flip Side Event, prompt chosen: True hates kiss

⚖️Pairing: Rogue! Kim Hongjoong x Holy Knight! Reader (f) x King! Jongho

⚖️Genre: angst (happy ending!)

⚖️Trope: the reverse of true love's kiss!, e2l, unrequited love

⚖️Au: Medieval au, fantasy au, rogue au, holy knight au, hanahaki disease

⚖️Word Count: 6,648

⚖️Rating: 18+, MDNI

⚖️Warnings: mentions of throwing up, blood, sword fighting, death, battle, war

⚖️Summary: when you're cursed with the hanahaki curse, your only discourse is to search out King Jongho and to get a kiss from him to cure yourself. But when a certain master of spies sticks his nose in your business, life is suddenly a lot more harder

The fire cracked and you jumped as the not-so-dry wood caught fire in the wise woman’s hut. You had not declined her offer of blackberry and mint tea but you were beginning to regret it as your nerves got the best of you. 

Only an hour ago you had hacked up flower petals and blood.

“Now, tell me about this problem you say you have,” the wise woman prompted you as she sat heavily on her rocking chair after placing down the prepared tea. 

You reached into your breastplate and pulled a sealed envelope out. You pulled your knife from your boot and cut through the wax that you had applied yourself. You spilled the contents on the table between you and the wise woman. 

“What does it mean when you throw up flower petals?” You offered.

The wise woman picked up one petal and popped it into her. “It tastes bitter.” She raised one to her nose and smelled it. “Primrose, I believe.” The wise woman looked at you with certainty. “You have the Hanahaki Curse.”

“...pardon me?”

The wise woman pushed your cup of tea further to your side, the clay scraping against the well-worn wood. She drank deeply of her own before answering. “You are dying. A kiss will break the curse. And only you know who will break it. I can’t tell you; it’s your heart that needs mending.”

You stand up, putting down the untouched tea. “Thank you.” You tossed the wise woman’s fee to the table. “I trust you’ll tell no one about this?”

The wise woman mimed locking her lips with a key and throwing it away. “Of course.”

You walked back to the castle that you were in charge of, wondering how the hell you got here. 

You raised your hand in greeting to the guards at the castle’s gates and they let you in. You curt nods were all they needed in acknowledgement before they went back to their duties. It was not their place to ask the captain of the guard where they had gone. 

Your head was in a daze as you walked through the castle listlessly. The only good thing about your King going to war was that there was no one to question your current state. Your king had taken practically every able-bodied soldier with him to invade the country that had taken a precious artifact that belonged to your kingdom and left behind the bare minimum.

You had been hurt and angry when Jongho had told you that he was leaving you behind. The shame ran through you like hot lava through your veins. You were the captain of the guard; it was your job to keep the King alive and safe. To leave you behind from his war was an insult that was beyond resolving. 

Jongho’s face informed you that there was no arguing, even though he tried to insist that he could only trust you to keep his throne safe. All the while, Hongjoong was across the round council’s table, hiding his grin with a hand. 

“But you’re taking him, aren’t you?” you accused.

Jongho ran a gauntlet through his hair in frustration. “Hongjoong will be travelling back and forth between you and I, to keep the information secure.”

Your hatred for Hongjoong went from a steady fire to a raging bonfire. 

In your life, Hongjoong always won where you lost. As children, you followed the rules and somehow got scolded while Hongjoong created discord and was beloved. You couldn't even have your moment of triumph by being knighted as Jongho’s captain of the guard; Hongjoong had been given the role of master of spies at the same time. You were dedicated to Jongho, sword and heart, but the king had chosen Hongjoong to warm his bed and not you. Hongjoong was the bane of your existence. 

“You’re not one to get your head in the clouds, what’s happened to you?”

You jump a foot in the air as you come back to reality. Your feet had taken you to your office and Hongjoong was sitting behind your desk, running one of his daggers underneath his finger nail. 

“Get out of my chair,” You snarled immediately.

The last thing you needed was the man you despised to see you at your lowest moment.

Hongjoong gave you a long look. “Something bad by the sounds of it.”

You slapped his boots off your desk. “Your very presence puts me in a bad mood. Now get the fuck out of my chair or I’ll haul you out of it myself.”

Hongjoong fluidly rolled out of your chair and danced around your desk. Lithe, graceful fucking rogue. You hated him. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Captain.”

You rolled your head, cracking your neck menacingly. “Do you have anything to report to me or did you come back just to get under my skin?”

Hongjoong’s eyes are dark and inquisitive on you. “Do you have something to report back to me first?”

Your arm came down and you swiped the entire contents of your desk onto the floor in a rage. You roared so loud that your lieutenant came to check on you. Your shoulders were heaving with your heavy breathing. 

“It’s nothing, lieutenant.” Hongjoong dismissed your underling and firmly closed the door on her very-confused face. “Captain, you can’t let anyone see you like this. You are their leader and the one in charge of the King’s throne and crown.”

You threw an accusing finger in Hongjong’s direction. “Get out of my office. You are the cause of all this.”

Hongjoong tilted his head curiously. “This must have to do with our fair King, methinks.”

You tiredly sit on your desk and bury your head in your hands. “Hongjoong, this is not up for discussion. I don’t care if you get off on it or not, I’m not in the mood tonight. I am not above personally escorting you out of here.” 

“You’d have to catch me first.” You could hear the grin in his voice. You wanted to wring his neck. “I do love a good game of cat and mouse.”

You lowered your hands, if only to send a murderous glare at Hongjoong. “All is well with the castle. I’ve heard nothing of any rumblings about the nobles thinking they can do a better job than Jongho or I in governing the kingdom. They are eager to hear about the King’s progress, that is all.”

Hongjoong sat beside you on your desk. With his hands on either side of his hips, he tipped his head back to stare at the glass chandelier that Jongho had commissioned for your office when you had earned your position. “It is slow progress. The army is so big that travelling is taking us longer than originally anticipated. The King wondered if I couldn't snatch one of his favorite bottles of elderberry wine from the cellars.”

“Brilliant,” You replied tonelessly. “We’ve done our respective jobs. You can leave now. Enjoy wrapping your lips around Jongho’s--”

“What are those?” Hongjoong nudged a petal with his booted toe with a frown. “You despise flowers, they make you sneeze.”

Your eyes widen in alarm. “I’ve an admirer. Must be one of the noblemen. Goddess help me if it’s one of the guardswomen. That never ends well.”

Hongjoong shook his head. “Mmm, I think not. Your eyes tell it all, Captain. Nice lie though. Hoping that I would tell His Majesty and that he would do that cute pout he does when he needs to think things through?”

“I owe you nothing,” You insisted. 

You put some space between yourself and Hongjoong. Hongjoong didn’t allow you that much consideration, however. He followed close on your heels as you moved to the armorstand. “You might as well tell me. I know you know I have the means to figure it out for myself. Nothing escapes my notice.”

You removed your gloves first, then moved to the buckles at your ribs. “Oh, but wouldn’t you have so much fun discovering my dirty little secret, Hongjoong?” You mocked him. “Why would I take that away from you?”

“What dire news has acted as a thorn in your side?” Hongjoong posed, thumb and forefinger framing his chin. “You are often easy to anger but surely this is the worst I’ve seen you. And I’ve seen you witness me sneaking out of Jongho’s rooms on more than one occasion. Once, you even barged in on us hav--”

You pulled the knife from your boot and threw it across the room. Hongjoong leaned backwards, evading your knife easily. “If you do not shut your mouth, I will do it for you.”

Hongjoong smirked, pulling up one half of his lips upward. “Oh, the images in my head.”

How you managed to wretch your breastplate off, was beyond you, but next was your sword belt, and finally your shin guards. “I am going to my room now. And you will most certainly not be following me there.”

“But Captain, we barely finished our foreplay!” Hongjoong called after you. 

You opened the door to your bedroom connected to your office and slammed it behind you. You turned the lock with the key around your neck and sighed heavily. You needed to think in peace. You needed a strategy to break this curse. 

The wise woman said you would know who you needed to kiss in order to break this curse. There was only one man who you wished to kiss and that was Jongho. But that would mean you would have to abandon your post. You had to break your oaths and go against your king’s direct orders. But which meant more, your word or your life?

You found the peaked window and saw that the Goddess was hidden behind some clouds on this night. You couldn't even pray to your sworn God to seek guidance. If you broke your oaths, all the sacred powers that were bestowed upon you by the Goddess of the Moon would be gone. You would still be a knight but if your oaths were forsworn to your king, where would that take you? You would be losing your life either way. 

You bit down on your lip, hard, and resisted bellowing in frustration. Jongho would understand that your life was in danger. Your goddess would still want her most dedicated knight to live. You had no choice, you had to go hunt down Jongho and beg a kiss from him. Regardless of whether he returned your feelings or not, this was your life!

You began to undo your hair. You tugged the hairpins that held the braid from the crown of hair around your head. You would have to travel light if you were to travel as quickly as you could. You couldn't wear your armor or you’d be spotted immediately. 

You moved to the chest by the foot of your bed. There was old leather armor you could don. It would simply appear as if you were a mercenary travelling and looking for work. Your sword, Mist, would have to stay too. You sighed. Your current sword and shield had also been commissioned by Jongho. It bore your coat of arms, a lioness rearing on her hind feet, claws ready to attack her opponent. Yet, it had to be done.

You picked up Silver Light from your chest. The rainbow opal shone in the hilt of the bastard sword that used to be your weapon of choice. It was the sword you had dedicated to the Moon Goddess, swearing to be one of her holy knights. It was the sword that had the power to slay with the gentle light of the moon. It would be nice to remember who you were, instead of who you had become. 

A cloak of dappled grey sufficed for the remainder of your outfit. You grabbed a satchel to stow some bread, cheese and apples from the kitchens and then you were straight for the stables. Your trusty mare Siren neighed softly when you entered her stall. 

“We go on a quest, my dear,” You murmured to her. 

“Ah, a knight on a quest. What a picture perfect night to do so.”

You grabbed Siren’s reins before she reared. You smoothed a hand over her neck, whispering to calm her. You refused to acknowledge Hongjoong. You simply lifted the catch to the gate and swung up on Siren’s back. 

Hongjoong leaned against the doorframe of the stables. He tossed the same knife he had been cleaning his fingernails with, repeatedly catching the hilt of it as it twirled in the air. “Where are you going at this time of night, Captain?”

You continued to ignore the master of spies as you walked Siren out of the stables. You did stop ignoring him, however, when Hongjoong silently launched himself over Siren’s flanks and onto her back behind you.

“Captain, I can no longer let this mystery slide. This is beyond out of character for you. I’m starting to think there’s no whispers about a coup from the nobles because you yourself are the culprit.”

You pulled Siren’s reins gently to halt her. She snorted, clearly unimpressed that she was being stopped so shortly after her freedom was delivered. “Are you seriously besmirching my name right now because I refuse to acknowledge your presence?”

“What else am I to suspect when you’re sneaking out of the castle just as I come for my report.” Hongjoong’s voice sounded as if he was amused but his words were sharp. “If only the truth would set you free.”

“I would rather not report to the king that his master of spies hasn’t broken his neck from falling off a horse, so get off of Siren,” You said through gritted teeth.

“The only thing that would make you abandon your post is Jongho. I know exactly where he is, Captain. If you simply tell me what is going on, I’ll take you on a direct course to him.” Hongjoong let his offer dangle between the two of you. 

Fuck. Your life was hanging in the balance. You didn’t know how much time you had. Curse Hongjoong. 

You breathed in and out deeply. All that could be heard was the soft clomped as Siren walked down a postern gate that wasn’t guarded. It was a secret escape for the king in case he was in grave danger. “I threw up blood and flower petals this eve. The wise woman says I'm dying. I think only a kiss from Jongho will break it.”

“Ah,” was all that Hongjoong said. 

“You insufferable man,” You grumbled under your breath. “All that berating to get me to tell you what’s going on and all you have to say is ‘ah’?!”

Hongjoong chuckled behind you. “I apologize for that. I didn’t know it was truly so grave.”

You turned around to view Hongjoong. His gaze flitted around naturally, to keep an eye if anyone spotted the two of you. “Will you help me?”

“Of course I will.”

Your shoulders released tension there that you didn’t know you had been holding. “This will be a great source of entertainment for me. I want a front seat.”

You scoffed. Of course he was going back to jokes again. “I don’t care about your motives. This is my life on the line, Master Spy.”

“I know,” Hongjoong acknowledged that.

Travelling with your arch nemesis really wasn’t what you’d call an enjoyable time. Hongjoong constantly poked at you, prodded you, and laughed when you snapped at him. You made decent time, for two people on one horse. You, more than once, complained to Hongjoong about him not having his own horse but his reply was always “Why would I steal a horse when I get to be so close to you?” which was ludicrous but he stood by his statement.

It all came to a crescendo the first night you decided to pay for a room at an inn. Hongjoong had said you had done enough covert traveling, and that no one would spot the two of you for one night of comfort. More than happy to pay for a roof for Siren, you put up the few coins it would take and entered the inn with Hongjoong. 

You paid for two separate rooms but dined together. Blessedly, Hongjoong was silent as he filled himself with roast chicken and fresh bread. You ate heartily as well, tired of road fare. Then you went your separate ways to your respective rooms and you expected to get a good night's sleep.

What you hadn't expected was to get such a swell of feelings for Jongho. You missed him. It had been weeks since he had left with the army. You missed how he was such an anchor in your life. Jongho was solid, and not going anywhere, or so you thought. You thought you had wound yourself so closely in his life that you could never be separated. 

That’s when you felt the burning at the back of your throat and you rushed to the basin in your room that was supposed to be for your morning’s wash up. You threw up petals, your body convulsing to spew out your unrequited love incarnate. You coughed and shook, as your body rid itself of the flowers inside of you. By the time you were done, you felt weak. 

“Captain.” Hongjoong’s voice was coated with sympathy. He slipped into your room through your open window. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Go away,” You said hoarsely. 

Hongjoong’s hands felt cool to your warm skin. He pulled your hair back and tied it up. “You could have called for me.”

“I was a little busy,” You said mirthlessly. 

“Come on, let’s--” His eyes widened as you began to cough again. 

You couldn't help it. Your mind sent images of happy Hongjoong with happy Jongho. Those two were always so easily together. How was it that Hongjoong got what you had worked so hard for?

You spewed more petals and flowers into your basin. Your throat now felt like razer’s were brushing your insides. 

“Get…” You said hoarsely. “Don’t want you…” You coughed and grimaced, pulling a singular petal from your tongue. “...you shouldn’t see me like this.” 

You felt weak, you felt powerless and even worse, you felt heartbroken. And part of the equation was sending you worried looks. “Just go.”

Hongjoong shook his head, a look of determination on his face. “I’m gonna help you back to bed, first of all.” Hongjoong ducked under your arm and raised you up with a hand around your waist. 

“First?” You squawked. 

“Mhmm,” Hongjoong hummed. “Then you’re going to let me call for some cool water and I’m going to put a washcloth on your head.”

Hongjoong got you to bed. He sat you down and then swung your legs up. You fell back onto your pillow with an oof and Hongjoong giggled. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they charge your room for the extra water.”

“Hong…” You coughed and the rogue froze at your door.

“I’ll be just a minute,” He said before slipping out your door. 

You couldn't fathom why he was doing this. Perhaps he appreciated what you did for Jongho and the kingdom. It certainly wasn’t a job that Hongjoong could, or wanted to, do. 

Hongjoong came back with a pitcher of cold water. He did exactly as he said, wetting the cloth and folding it carefully before placing it on your forehead. “There, was that so hard to accept?”

“Yes,” You barked.

“You know that all Jongho wishes is for us to be closer, to work seamlessly. Why are you so stubborn?” Hongjoong asked.

“Stubborn?” You struggled to sit up but it only took a firm hand on your shoulder from Hongjoong to keep you down. “You’re the one that pushes my buttons every chance you get.”

“If I didn’t provoke you, you’d literally pretend I wasn’t there,” Hongjoong insisted. 

You scoffed at his remark. How could you ever forget that the love of your life’s love of his life was in the room? You felt queasy and winced. 

“Alright, alright.” Hongjoong fussed, pulling a blanket over you. “Just sleep. I’ll stay here in case you have another episode.”

“You will not!” You insisted. 

Hongjoong laughed. “Right? What a waste of good coin. You should have told me you were going to be sick. I could have stayed in the same room with you.”

“I’d never willingly share a room with you, Hongjoong,” You grumbled. But your weariness from the curse tugged you into its embrace. 

Your eyes closed and you faded into the darkness of sleep. You didn’t even wake up, having a full night's sleep on a somewhat comfortable bed. The same couldn't have been said for Hongjoong when you woke up. 

You were on your side when the morning sunshine woke you up. You opened your eyes and saw Hongjoong’s sleeping face. He had fallen asleep, arms propped up on your bed but his body on the floor. He was snoring softly, his lips parted, the tips continuously turned upwards. He almost looked… softer, like this. Is this what Jongho felt appealing when he slept with Hongjoong?

You coughed and Hongjoong shook awake immediately. “I cleaned the basin out, do you need me to fetch it?”

“No, I’m fine,” You replied briskly. You got off the bed and stretched a little. You sent a look over your shoulder to Hongjoong, who was still sitting on the floor. “Why the hell did you stay here, anyways? You should have slept in the bed you paid for.”

Hongjoong smiled and stretched his arms above his head. “Jongho would have my head if I let the captain of his guard die under my watch.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. “How chivalrous of you.”

“Besides, I said I’d help you,” Hongjoong added with a more solemn tone. 

“I…” You took the bite out of your tone. “Thank you.”

It was back to the road, riding and sleeping in shifts. Siren had taken a shine to Hongjoong, of course. You muttered that she was a traitor while she eagerly ate the pieces of apple Hongjoong cut up for her with his knife. She lipped at his upturned palm and he giggled at the feeling. Jongho wasn’t enough, he had to have the sympathies of your horse as well???

You heard a rumble of hooves. Hongjoong’s eyes met your own immediately. “I thought you said we were still a few days away from the army?”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. There wasn’t a cloud of dust, which explained that it was a much smaller party than the army. “We are. That’s not them.”

“I’ll scout. You stay here.” You couldn't argue with Hongjoong because with a susurration of the bushes, he was gone. 

You paced at Siren’s side, who mimicked your mood, plodding at the ground with one hoof. You rubbed her soft nose. “It’ll be fine.” When Siren whinnied at you, you frowned at her. “He will be fine. What is with you?”

Hongjoong was back just as quickly as he left. “They have no official uniforms but I overheard them. They are from the kingdom our fair king is invading. We have to wipe them out.”

Your stomach dipped at the thought of delaying reuniting with Jongho. But your honor and vows to the Moon Goddess wouldn’t let you back down. Anything to ensure Jongho victory was in your best interest. 

“I agree,” You said. You strapped your sword to your back and swung up on Siren’s back. 

Hongjoong grabbed a hold of Siren’s reins as he approached. Your damn treacherous horse nudged his body with her head, as if she was checking his body for any harm. “I’m okay, girl,” he reassured her. 

“How…” You purse your lips but continue your sentence. “How would you like to do this?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows rose in surprise but rolled with your punches. “If you let me get in place, I could have an immense advantage with a sneak attack. Then when all hell lets loose, you can come charging in like the knight that you are.”

“I’ll wait for your chaotic signal then,” You reluctantly agreed.

Hongjoong flashed you a confident grin. “Try not to stare at my ass while you fight. It’s very distracting, I hear.”

You nudged Siren’s flanks with your feet, but it didn’t take much to encourage her to follow Hongjoong. He brought you as close as he dared and then signaled for you to halt. You couldn't get close with Siren otherwise that would give your position away. So you had to wait, without any visuals. 

The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as you waited for some kind of signal that you could push forward and fight. The silence was torturous, until you heard a call for arms and knew this was it.You charged through the brush, into the opening where the opposing army had settled. A quick scan of the battlefield showed that they were a guerilla group, small for secrecy and travel. Hongjoong had already taken down quite a few, you observed. There were many that laid with their throats slit. Hongjoong was ducking and dodging amongst the other warriors in the merry band. 

With a wordless roar, you drew your sword and swiped at the men that you ran by. You took a few down before jumping off of Siren and started fighting sword to sword. You had an advantage on Siren but you would never risk her life. 

Hongjoong flitted around you, nipping at the hoard that had surrounded you. Your broadsword did its work, as your body fell into the motions of the different moves you had learned. Metal against metal screamed, but still you took down each man or woman that dared approach you. 

Hongjoong threw dirt, cackled when someone coughed when his hand to hand combat caught someone directly in the throat, and stomped on toes to throw off his foe. He was such a dirty fighter. The longer he danced around you, tightening the circle around you, and eliminating your foe, the more you grew angry. He was the epitome of what you despised. 

But you were tiring and you needed your ‘oh fuck’ power. “Hongjoong!”

The rogue had two seconds to guess why you were raising your sword above you and not fighting anymore. He closed his eyes, speaking highly of the trust he laid in you and then you began your prayer.

“Holy Mother, Queen of the night, and ruler of the darkness. Bestow your power upon me!”

The pommel of your sword shone with the brightness of the moon and blinded the majority of the soldiers around you. Once your sword was imbued with the power of your goddess, it was over. Your eyes lit with the eerie blue of a cold moon. You cut down anyone in your path and you did it with fierce justice. How dare these men come from behind your beloved king?

“Justice will find you even in the night of a hidden moon.” Your mouth formed the words but your heart fluttered. The goddess was using you as a vessel!

When all there were left were corpses on the ground, you sheath your sword. The light faded from your eyes and from the opal on your pommel. Hongjoong’s mouth was on the floor and he had to snap it shut. 

“I didn’t know you could do that!” He said, awe still shining from his eyes.

“You know I’m a sworn holy knight, Hongjoong,” You said with scorn.

“I know but it’s usually just a bunch of--” Hongjoong shook his head. “You’re a Moon Maiden.”

You scoffed at him. “A Moon Witch. Hongjoong. A maiden is one of our sisters who is still untried in battle.”

Hongjoong batted his eyelashes. “And in bed?”

“Virginity holds no importance in our order. Such a man thing to say.” You shook your head and whistled for Siren.

Your horse came galloping from the foliage and whinnied when she came to your side. Then she snorted on Hongjoong, causing his hair to get pushed back with the gust of air. It seemed not all your anger had been dispelled in the fight. You grabbed Siren’s reins rather harshly and tugged her to you before Hongjoong could pat her forelocks. 

“Let's get going. If we can let Jongho know we stopped an attack from behind, that might give him an advantage,” You said gruffly. 

“I…” Hongjoong let the hand he had raised to pet Siren fall lamely. “You’re right. That’s exactly what we should do.”

The last leg of your journey was strained with tension, to say the least. The closer you got to Jongho, the heavier your episodes became. You got extremely terse with Hongjoong, and eventually that mocking smile snapped as well. The gentle man from the inn was gone. You refused his help so many times that he no longer offered. It all came to a boil the night before you were set to arrive at Jongho’s encampment. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so eager to receive a kiss from a man who doesn’t love you back,” Hongjoong grumbled under his breath as he tossed pieces of grass into your fire. 

You breathed in and out heavily in a gusty sigh. “Oh, I don’t know, Hongjoong, perhaps because it’s going to save my life?”

“How do you know?!” Hongjoong demanded, suddenly standing up. 

That caught you off guard. “The witch said I would know whose kiss would fix my curse. It’s obvious when my episodes occur when I’m thinking of Jongho. I have to receive a kiss from the man who I have unrequited love with.”

Hongjoong’s face twisted into judgemental disbelief. 

“What?” You prompted, standing up as well. 

“Even after the kiss, he’s still not going to love you! How is that going to break the curse?” Hongjoong challenged you. 

“I--” Your heart began to palpitate and you felt sick to your stomach. You hadn't thought about that. You had a magical curse but would the kiss have a magical ending. You hadn't actually wished for Jongho to love you after the kiss but…

You swallowed down what surely felt like some petals rising for you to vomit. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Hongjoong looked like you had just slapped him in the face. “Excuse me? Not any of my business?! I told you I would help you. I’ve been with you this entire journey, helped you when you were sick, taken care of your horse--”

“Yes, well done, Hongjoong. You’ve wheedled your way further into my life. How brilliant of you. Even my horse adores you. How excited you must be that everyone around me loves YOU more,” You said with rage filling your voice.

Hongjoong’s mouth opened and closed, clear shock written across his face. “That’s not what I--why must you hate me with every fiber of your being?! It’s been like that since we were children. I’ve never done anything to--”

“You merely existing is the cause for my anger. You never have any regard for anyone. You simply live life how you prefer, regardless of who it hurts. You are sneaky, and conniving. You fight without honor and you break hearts without consideration! I despise you, Kim Hongjoong, and that will never change!” Your shoulders heaved with how heavy you were breathing from your anger zipping through you like a spark. 

Hongjoong threw his hood up and tipped his head so that his facial features were hidden. “Very well. I understand you explicitly. Once I’ve delivered you to Jongho, your life is your own. You won’t need my help any longer. I’ll take first watch. You sleep.”

The rogue slipped into the shadows surrounding your fire without a sound. Your chest felt hollow but you didn’t understand why. Shouldn’t you feel better after unloading like you just did? Hongjoong promised to leave you alone. You got what you wanted. You rubbed your chest. You decided to forget about it and go to sleep. So you rolled up in your cloak, and closed your eyes. 

The next morning was a quiet one. Hongjoong didn’t say a word to you, even when he woke you up for your shift of keeping watch. He didn’t even sit on Siren with you, opting to take her reins and guide her to Jongho’s camp. 

Hongjoong waved at the guards on the outskirts of the encampment but they simply waved back. Clearly they were used to seeing the master of spies travelling to and from their camp. He wound through several levels of security until finally Jongho’s grand tent came before you.

Your stomach twisted into anxiety. You weren’t even sure how you were going to explain to Jongho exactly what was going on. You knew that Jongho would never condemn you to die but he wasn’t big on physical affection. A kiss for the sake of a kiss wouldn’t appeal to him. Not to mention, you had to tell him the part about how you loved him.

But before you could get to Jongho’s tent, Hongjong suddenly changed direction and aimed Siren for another route. 

You leaned over Siren’s neck and hissed, “Hongjoong, what are you doing?!”

“We’re going to my tent.”

Your face heated up at such a comment. “Why?!”

Hongjoong remained silent. You almost scrambled off Siren’s back as a form of rebellion but it took no time at all to get to the rogue’s tent. By then, Hongjoong had tied off Siren’s reins and then reached up to bring you down off her back. His hands on your waist burned through where they touched. And even once your feet hit the ground, the man didn’t let you go.

“Hongjoong, what is going on?”

“I have to do this before you kiss Jongho.” Hongjoong’s voice was husky and it made your stomach dip.

“Do what?”

Hongjoong’s lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “Just don’t punch me too hard afterwards, okay? I have a delicate stomach.”

Before you could ask once again what the hell was going on, Hongjoong tilted your head towards him with his thumb under your jaw and his hand curling around your neck, and kissed you. 

Your lips tingled and you felt tears form at the corner of your eyes. Why did this feel so right? You hated Hongjoong… right?

Hongjoong broke the kiss and then wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Don’t cry, love,” he said, even though tears were streaming down his face as well. “Well, it was worth a try--” 

The both of you let out a strangled yell of surprise as a whirlwind of primroses and petals swirled around you. Hongjoong held you close to his body, arms wrapped around in a protective stance. You swallowed but your throat was tight with emotion and you were pretty sure it wasn’t rage. Before you could wonder what was going on, the whirlwind was gone and so were the petals. 

Hongjoong suddenly grabbed your head between both his hands and demanded, “Quick, think about Jongho.”

You pursed your lips. “I don’t feel like throwing up, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong let out a noise of exasperation. “Just do it!”

You sighed heavily and closed your eyes. You thought of the gummy smile your king always greeted you with when you entered the council room. You felt wistful and… you didn’t throw up. Your eyes widened in surprise. 

Hongjoong let out a whoop of celebration. “We did it! We did it!!!”

You took off your gloves from one hand and brought your fingertips to your lip. It was Hongjoong’s kiss that you needed the entire time?

“How?” You said in disbelief.

“I love you,” Hongjoong admitted simply. 

You shook your head in confusion. “What?”

Hongjoong avoided your gaze suddenly. “I’ve loved you since we were kids. But you always had eyes for Jongho. And despite what you believe, whatever I did, was to get your attention. Also, Jongho came to me first. I wasn’t against it but I thought it might prompt you to finally see that I was the one for you but instead it only made you resent me even more.”

You tried to back away, to put space between you and Hongjoong, in order to process what he was saying but the man was having none of that. “I was already at the castle before you saw the wise woman. I was on my way to your office when I saw you sneak out. I saw everything. But I came to a different conclusion. Kissing Jongho was never going to heal your curse from unrequited love. You needed someone to love you. It was true hate’s kiss, a kiss born from hatred turned to love. What better kind of kiss would break a curse like yours? I just didn’t think that you returned the feeling. Especially after last night.”

“I…I don’t--” Your throat closed in on itself. You couldn't say it. It would have been a lie and broken your honor.  

Hongjoong had that stupid smile that you absolutely hated; the one that said he knew what you were thinking. “You don’t have to say it outloud. I already know it’s true or your curse would not have been broken.”

You allowed yourself a moment of relief. You weren’t going to die. You didn’t have to cause discomfort to your king… speaking of such… “Oh no,” You covered your mouth in horror. “I’ve come all this way, abandoned my post, and for what? Nothing!!”

Hongjoong swung an arm around your shoulder and guided you to the opening of his tent. “I know a thing or two about keeping others hidden. You’ll just stay in my tent until I can sneak out again.”

You frowned. “I’m not staying in your tent, waiting for you to come back, like a handmaiden’s tiny court dog.”

Hongjoong’s smile only grew wider. “Do you bark, little doggy? Sit pretty for me and I’ll give you a treat.”

“I’m still armed, Hongjoong,” You reminded him dryly.

Hongjoong hummed in acknowledgement. “Oh, we haven’t sparred in such a long time. Let me deliver this elderberry wine to our king and then we will enjoy some more foreplay after--oof” All the air left Hongjoong’s lungs as you punched him in the stomach. 

“I suppose I was due that,” Hongjoong said in a pain-filled voice.

You gripped Hongjoong’s chin. “You better be telling Jongho you’re no longer available for his bed,” You said in a low, threatening tone. 

Hongjoong’s smile through the pain was almost beautiful. “Anything for you, beloved.”

You grimaced at the pet name. It was going to take a while to get used to that. You had a feeling that Hongjoong would be forever wiggling under your skin, looking to get a reaction out of you. But you knew that you secretly enjoyed the back and forth, be it words or with weapons. 

“Thank you,” You whispered suddenly.

Hongjoong’s eyes softened. “Anything for you, beloved,” he repeated, this time sounding more like he meant it. 

Your heart skipped a beat and you abruptly let go of Hongjoong. You raised your still ungloved hand to your cheek. Was your skin hot? What was this feeling?

“Are you… blushing?” Hongjoong asked in astonishment.

“Shut up, Hongjoong,” You snapped, turning away.

“Or you’ll do it for me?” Hongjoong teased, eyes dancing merrily, recalling your threat from when he had found you in your office. 

“You’d like that immensely, wouldn’t you,” You sighed. 

“If it puts your lips against mine again, why not?”

You may love Hongjoong now, but you were pretty sure you still hated him.

[munsonsreputation]

everything in between

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [6.2K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, difficulties dealing with drunk-ness (steve), brief talk about anxiety, all around fluff

summary: you and steve are both new to this relationship thing, unsure if this will finally be the one — but it's already clear to everybody else that you two are perfect for each other and everything in between. based off "in between" by gracie abrams.

It’s everything new and fresh, yet frightening between you and Steve.

The way that you both had found yourselves here without knowing if what was happening was right for either of you. If the decision to finally act upon feelings was going to be the end of broken hearts and tearful nights and replace them with mended tapestries and starry eyes.

For the both of you, it seems scary, giving love another chance after the horrible paths that you two had previously been on, but it seems like everyone else already knows that you’re both walking hand in hand on Lover’s Lane.

Something hopeful connecting you two together and bringing you both where you needed to be — becoming everything in between.

Robin likes to tease Steve in the beginning stages of your relationship. Poking fun at him for the way he has always been irrevocably whipped and enamored by you even before he had finally asked you out.

He tries to play it cool like his persona, but deep down she knows it’s all just an act and he puts up so that it doesn’t seem like he’s moving too fast.

Her feet rest comfortably in his lap as they pass around the popcorn bowl, enjoying the new tape they had smuggled from Family Video. Not that they cared, since Keith never noticed. The couch seems a lot bigger without the rest of their friends there to hog it, but Steve still doesn’t mind the less than pedicured toes in his lap because it’s his best friend.

There’s a ring that comes from the house phone which is mounted to the wall on the other side of the room catching her attention quicker than the feeling of her legs getting pushed off his thighs as he rushes to answer it.

“Hey!”

It’s sick, honestly down right repulsive by the way he never lets the phone ring for more than a second or two when he knows it you on the other line. And she knows, he knows that it’s you calling because he just feels it in his bones — even when it could be one of the kids prank calling at this late hour; he knows that it’s you.

“Hi Stevie!”

She can practically hear you bubbling on the other side of the receiver and she swears Steve smiles a little harder just at the sound of your voice.

She doesn’t hear you ask how movie night is going, too busy with stuffing her mouth with popcorn entertained with the way Steve is leaning against the wall and acting like a total school girl over the fact that you called.

He only makes eye contact with her for a split second before he’s wiping the smile off his face to the best of his ability seeing the way his best friend is smirking like an idiot over the way he’s acting.

“Y-yeah, it’s great! Just some boring movie about spaceships and aliens — Oh, yeah, Robin’s just eating all the popcorn right now. She doesn’t mind.”

Steve shakes his head, not wanting to hang up the phone so soon. If he could, he’d talk to you for the whole night and he’s pretty sure Robin wouldn’t mind at all because it’d be way more entertaining than the forgotten movie on the tv.

“Tell her I said hi and I can’t wait to see her tomorrow!” You say enthusiastically and Steve does everything but groan, knowing that this will probably lead to some sort of teasing that from Robin’s end.

He pulled the phone away from his ear, holding it out in the air towards Robin as he speaks, “She says hi and she can’t wait til tomorrow.”

She chews, a smile still splaying on her face as she swallows and licks the crumbs off her lips before shouting out loud enough for you to hear.

“Hiya sunshine! Miss you bunches, but not more than your lover boooyyy!” She singsongs with a cackle erupting as soon as Steve snatches the phone back to his ear.

Your own laughter overlaps Robin’s, and it silences the embarrassment that Steve’s feeling because the last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s moving too fast. But for you, he’s moving at the right speed, the speed that has you throwing your hands in the air with butterflies filling your stomach in all the right ways.

“Ignore her. She’s trying to be funny.” Steve tries to quip, yet you’re still giggling, and it’s the kind that makes his cheeks heat up because he knows you’re blushing and smiling like a maniac.

He wishes he were there to see it for himself, the way you’d try to hide your face behind your hands because of how hard you were smiling and how he’d have to plead for you to put them down just so he could catch a glimpse and save that mental picture in his head forever.

Your voice is laced with sweetness as your giggles die down and only a second or two of silence comes before you speak.

“Don’t leave Robs hanging and go watch your movie…I’ll call in the morning, lover boy.”

He sure as hell doesn’t let the first ring even finish before he picks up the next morning and Robin is quite pleased because it doesn’t wake her up.

Steve’s house always seems to be the gathering place for get together’s, mostly because his parents are always gone and partly because the amount of room there is to roam around. And while there isn’t always alcohol at the functions because of the presence of the sneaky kids, when there is Nancy can always smell the anxiety in the air.

For her she knows that a piece of Steve is still mortified from the Halloween party a few years back which ended with spiked punch spilt all over her, a dramatic drunken argument, and the end of her and Steve.

She lives with that regret wishing she had been sober so she could’ve at least let him down easy and even after she had apologized she still knows that it haunts him, especially because she can see his face fall when she brings him a very intoxicated you.

“Woah, woah, hey,”

She guides you into his arms, watching the way he’s already grabbing at your shoulders and lifting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. She sticks around, not knowing if she’ll need to help if you fall backwards in his living room. You definitely seem and look wasted, droopy eyes staring into Steve’s as you try your best to stand up straight.

“She might have had too many drinks.” Nance winces, looking back at the kitchen where empty solo cups are scattered over the kitchen table.

Steve breathes in, nodding his head and working your arm over his shoulders to keep you upright, “thanks, I’m gonna bring her to the bathroom to clean up.”

She nods, nibbling back a comment about how he shouldn’t bring you to the same upstairs bathroom that he had brought her in. It would be too much for him to handle this kind of situation again in the same place where she had broken his heart, but she knows you aren’t going to do that to him.

He proceeds, doing most of the holding up and walking, guiding you slowly up the stairs and down the hall to his bathroom where all your stuff is stored in your very a drawer he had cleared out just for you.

“Let’s sit, yeah?” Steve mutters quietly, closing the toilet lid and sitting you down on it.

He’s unsure of what to do, seeing as though you haven’t even spoken a word since Nancy brought you to him. Yet he knows you can hear him. The way your sluggish eyes stay on his let him know that you’re still aware that he’s here with you, he just doesn’t know what you’re thinking.

What is about to come out of your mouth when you finally begin speaking?

If it’ll be something that’s going to tear his heart apart and begin to make his eyes prickle. If he’ll have to beg you to not walk out because you’re not thinking straight. If this was all his love was ever going to amount to and end like this.

“S-staring,” You hiccup, your shoulders jerking

He furrows his brows, kneeling on the floor and squeezing your knee lovingly.

“Huh? What was that?”

You swallow back another hiccup, rubbing your fingers over your eyes, smudging your mascara, unknowingly.

“I said y-you’re staring.”

Steve watches when you pull your hands away, black pigment covering your finger tips though you don’t seem to notice or feel the slight sting of the product getting in your eyes.

Despite it all, a smile tugs up at the corner of your lips as you reach forward and wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, wanting to be close to his touch. You’re slouching into him, resting your forehead against his as he does his best to not laugh at the mess around your eyes.

“I was staring because you look like you had a lot to drink,” he says, smoothing your stay hairs behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

You close your eyes blissfully, taking him with you as you lean back slightly and reel in the feeling of his gentle touch.

“I think I had three…no four! cups of gin and tonic.” You mention, not bothering to open your eyes to catch his bemused look.

“Hmm, I believe it, sweetheart. Why don’t we take off your makeup then get you some water and a snack downstairs before bed?” He proposed met with your eyes opening and your head nodding.

He guides you towards the sink as you do your best to keep yourself upright against the counter as he swipes the damp makeup wipe over your face paying extra attention to the delicate skin around your eyes as he tries to get most of the mascara smudge off.

He knows which bottle is your face wash because he’s watched you do it a million times over at your place and he picked up a bottle to stay at his for when you spent the night. It’s like muscle memory for him even if this is the first time he’s doing it for you and he hopes it isn’t the last because it’s calming him down in a weird way.

What he had thought was going to be an explosive fight in his bathroom all over again was just you smiling and humming as his fingers glided over your face, happy that it was him taking care of you. Apparently you seem to enjoy it just as much, giggling as he smears the moisturizer over your face and rubbing it into your skin.

The task alone seems to wake you up enough that you’re beaming and talking a lot more than before.

“My face feels so soft!” You grin, tapping your palms on either side of your cheeks while Steve guides you back down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

Chuckling, Steve hoists you up on the countertops as he rummages through the dishes, finding a clean glass and filling it up with some ice and water.

“Really? You think I did a good job?” He urges as he carefully places the cusp between your lips and tilts it enough for you to sip slowly.

When you push your head forward, he knows you had enough, drawing it away and setting it on the counter. Both of his palms rest on either side, caging you in as your gaze is fixated on his face.

“The best job, ever…kisses?” You ask, playfully puckering your lips towards him.

He knows you mean, “can I kiss you for doing a good job” but he still gets it, flashing you a tender smile.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” He snickers, leaning closer as you hold his face in your hands and smile, “kisses, baby.”

A giddy smile plays on your lips as his lips touch yours. For you it feels just as special as the other’s kisses you two share even if your brain is half buzzing from the alcohol. But for Steve, it’s a wave of relief, one that washes away the cold and empty feeling from the past. All he wants to do is savor the sweetness of your lips and hands, keeping him grounded here with you.

“You’re gonna get me drunk.” Steve jokes against your lips and you giggle, pressing your lips harder against his to shut him up for a moment.

“Is that even possible?” You ask finally pulling away and running your thumbs over his cheekbones.

He shrugs, leaning into your touch, “Maybe, but I don’t mind.”

You grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pointing to the bag of Lay’s that sits unopen.

“Can I have some chips?” you request

“Sure, you can have the whole bag if you want,” He replies, reaching for it and tearing it open.

Steve’s more than happy to oblige, feeding you and offering you occasional sips of water while you both stay in the kitchen totally forgetting about the party around you.

It’s an endearing sight that Nancy can’t help but smile at from her place on the couch. She’s fulfilled with her own love that she shares with Jonathan, the boy who’s resting his head on her shoulder, tracing shapes on the scar in the palm of her hand.

But she’s especially fulfilled with the fact that she and Steve are on better terms now, one where they can be happy for each other now that they’ve found their person. She watches the way both of your faces light up with laugher and smiles even if you’re still a little tipsy. Steve doesn’t look at unease at all. If anything, he’s at peace knowing it’s you and this time, it’s different.

His home has seen plenty of ups and downs, tears and heartbreak, but love had found its way back in and new memories were replacing bad ones. It had been a long time coming and enough waiting around.

She knows you two found each other — the ones who will always care about each other and will always be there for one another.

Steve isn’t sure if you are just trying to be nice or if you genuinely don’t mind that the kids tag along to the places you two go. He knows it’s the latter, but still likes to question it.

The movie at the park seemed like a great idea, at first. It was something different rather than just going to the theaters or watching it on his couch, and to top it all off it was a showing of your favorite movie, “Can’t Buy Me Love.”

But it was a great idea before the kids begged to tag along, promising that they wouldn’t talk during the movie and would even bring their own blankets and money for snacks. Steve tried to oppose the idea, giving the reasoning that it was a date which meant two people: him and you.

But you had shaken him off, telling them that you wouldn’t mind if they wanted to come along and if anything the more the merrier.

And who was Steve to argue?

For once, the kids were really on their best behavior, paying attention to the movie and passing their snacks and drinks around while they watched, but that was before their sugar rush caused them to crash, bringing fatigue to their eyes.

“Poor things,” you pout at the sight of the children sprawled out a few feet in front of you and Steve.

He snorts, seeing their jumbled limbs stretching over each other. You both tried to convince them to space out across the grassy area, but they insisted on being squished together like sardines in order to get to the snacks easily.

“S’okay, they probably needed the nap.”

He rubs your arm, keeping you warm against the chilly night breeze as you settle the back of your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arms across yourself.

“They’re gonna miss the best part.” You say wistfully, slumping into him.

“Honey, you practically spoiled it on the car ride here. I don’t think they’ll miss much.” He badgers as you turned your face into his chest and stifle your giggle there.

Your laugh is infectious, like music to his ears that he’d much rather listen to compared to the static-y audio that plays over the low quality speakers. There’s a kiss he lays on the crown of your head as you turn your sights back to the sleeping teens, hoping they’re not too uncomfortable with the lack of pillows and a comfy mattress on their backs.

“Remember how you said I have a soft spot for these twerps?” You mention serenely.

He hums, resting his chin on the top of your head, “yeah, what about it?”

“You’re right, but I just can’t help it. They’re adorable and I’d let them crash all our dates if you’d let me.”

Steve jokingly scorns, swinging his head against your, “Oh, don’t start, they’d never leave us alone.”

You roll your eyes half heartedly, turning your attention back to the movie. Meanwhile, Steve’s focus is still all on you, wrapping his arms over the front of your body and nuzzling his face between your shoulder blade to give the space beneath your ear a kiss.

“I’m so lucky to have you…even those little shit heads are lucky to have you.” Steve admits out of nowhere.

He can’t resist telling you how much he appreciates you even with a cheesy movie and his annoying children a few feet away. To him, you’re his world no matter what’s in front of him. You maneuver your head enough to look up at him as you swat his chest playfully, trying to brush off his compliment that has you blushing.

“No I mean it,” he insists, leaving another sweet kiss on your skin before cradling your face in his warm hands.

“You’re so beautiful and kind. You don’t ever get annoyed at the kids for crashing our dates. You don’t get annoyed at me for getting annoyed at them.”

You hide your cheek in your shoulder, wrapping your fingers over his wrists where he still holds you.

“Yeah, well, you’re not too bad yourself.” You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah?” He smirks with a curious glint in his words as you nod, “care to share?”

“Believe it or not, you’re so patient. I’ve never seen a guy handle teenage kids as effortlessly as you do. You’re so hardworking and even when you’re tired you give me all your time in the world. You’re generous and—”

He can’t resist interrupting mostly because if you keep talking he’s sure he’s going to permanently etch the world’s biggest smile on his face forever.

“Alright, alright, I get it, babe. I’m like the whole package and the best boyfriend ever.” He gloats jokingly, pulling your face closer to his in order to connect to your lips.

“Yeah you dork, you really are.” You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him deeper into you.

The movie is now long forgotten by you and Steve, too infatuated and caught up in each other to care about the corny love story that plays. You know that yours is better than any movie out there even your favorite one — you and Steve top them all.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kids hear every single word you and Steve had uttered to each other thinking that they were asleep. For them, they know every word is true, the two of you always bragging about how special the other half is when they aren’t around — the fact that you two say it without reservation when you think no ones around to hear makes it clearer that you two are meant to be.

By the time the movie is over, you’re softly shaking the kids awake and Steve’s folding up the blankets.

“It’s already over?” Lucas yawns stretching his arms up dramatically.

“We missed it?” El says disappointedly going the extra mile by rubbing the ‘sleep’ out of her eyes.

You hum sympathetically, nodding your head, “You guys dozed off, but you didn’t miss much. Ronald and Cindy live happily ever after in the end.”

“Just like every other cheese rom-com.” Dustin sighs standing up and brushing the grass off his clothing.

Max rolls her eyes, lending out a hand toward El and helping her up, “that’s the whole point of rom-coms, idiot. They’re supposed to be cheesy and have some stereotypical trope. It’s more entertaining than realistic.”

You smirk, picking out a shard of grass from her red hair, “You’re right, because real romance is totally different. More special, you know.”

The kids don’t miss the way you look back at Steve and hold your hand out for him to take as you all begin walking towards the parking lot ready to load into Steve’s car and commence a night full of drop offs.

“Oh trust us, we know.” Will hailed out with a knowing smile.

They watch as Steve presses a kiss to your cheek, opening the passenger door and letting you in before everyone else.

“Ugh, they make me so sick,” muttered Mike with feigned annoyance, secretly happy that he got to sit in the trunk far away from you and Steve’s sappiness.

As far as everyone else was concerned, the movie in the park was a hit. It was totally worth it seeing the best love story play out — they just didn’t know they were the exclusive viewers.

Joyce and Hopper finally tied the knot in a very small and intimate ceremony in their backyard. Steve had brought you around for the first time, though Hop and Joyce were pretty much familiar with you already, hearing so many good things from Steve.

He appreciated how they instantly welcomed you in, hugging you and thanking you for the small gift you had brought along to celebrate their special day. The two of you sat on the picnic benches, hands held underneath the table as you watched the pair share their first dance as husband and wife.

Half-way through, you had leaned into him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he promptly leaned into you, cushioning you snugly as you watched with adoring eyes.

“They look so in love.” You spoke faintly, looking up at him through your lashes with a grin on your face.

He glances down at you, pecking at your lips and nodding, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hop dance.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head as you held back your laughter, “I guess love really does its thing.”

“It does.” He smiles, kissing your temple as the music dies down to something more upbeat and alive.

“C’mon, people, get up here and dance!” Joyce whistles, gesturing everyone over though everybody seems to hesitate for a moment.

But not Steve.

“Wanna dance?” He smirks, squeezing your hand as you lift your head.

You nod, looking up at him while he stands holding his hand out for you, which you gladly take without a second thought.

“I should warn you, your toes might get stepped on. I’m not the greatest at dancing.” He confesses kissing your head as you giggle and shake your head.

“I won’t mind, long as you’re the one carrying me off the dance floor by the end of it.” You say giving his hand a squeeze.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He promises.

The two of you seamlessly sway back and forth, your arms draped over his neck and his wrapped tightly around your waist. You guys don’t seem to notice or care that you’re the only other couple on the dance floor — too much in your own world.

There are whispers and smiles that you and Steve share as you both loosen up to the music. His hand guiding you into a spin that makes you giggle and fall back into his chest, looking up at him dizzily.

While the dance floor isn’t anything special, just freshly trimmed grass underneath your foot, it feels like holy ground. A scared, special, one of the kind place that the both of you feel so safe in that it doesn’t matter if everyone else is watching.

“How long until you think they’ll get married?” Hop asks his wife, leading her to the picnic tables to catch a quick break.

She snickers, pinching his arm fondly, “Won’t be surprised if they ask the officiant to stay a little longer.”

They’ve got a front row view to a sight that reminds them of their own love. The younger versions of themselves that wished they had gotten together soon, but they’re more than happy for the both of you, clapping and cheering as Steve dips you low and presses a kiss to your lips.

You two can feel the fireworks, their plans to extinguish never dare to exist. It’s just you and Steve, the holy ground beneath you, and the sparks flying.

Hangouts don’t feel the same when you’re not there, for Steve especially it feels like a missing piece that he’s thinking and worrying about even if you’re just working a night shift. He knows he’ll get to see you bright and early the next morning — will probably even call out of work just so he can be your human pillow while you caught up on sleep.

He tries not to think so hard about it, focusing on Eddie’s high score that he’s trying to beat on the Nintendo while Dustin breathes down his neck and the others watch the television screen.

“Mom! Phoneeeeeee!” Mike yells as the landline begins to ring.

It nearly throws Steve off and by this point he feels like he should just give up because he doesn’t stand a chance beating Eddie’s score. Yet he still tries to focus, thumbs nudging the joysticks and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, almost drawing blood by how hard he’s trying.

The basement door swing open, Mrs. Wheeler covering the receiver with her palm as she speaks loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Steve, it’s your girlfriend.”

Only then does the controller drop from his hands like it doesn’t matter. His legs spring up, quickly looking up the stairs to give Karen a smile before she nods and closes the door.

“Dude, you almost had it!”

Dustin groans tugging at his curly roots, realizing he now owed Mike and Lucas $20 for the stupid bet. Eddie slaps the top of his head gingerly, urging them to be quiet as they all zero in on Steve picking up the phone.

“Baby?” He says hurriedly with a confused glint to his voice.

He can hear your sniffles and a small cough leaving your mouth on the other end. Worry and anxiety fill his veins on instance. Something is telling him that there’s something wrong, and he’s proven right when you finally reply weakly.

“H-hey, how’s game night?” You try your best to keep it together, to not let him know you’re holding back tears.

His foot comes tapping on the ground and his body begins to shake not knowing what’s going on.

“Y-you’re crying? What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did something happen? Where are you?”

Steve’s spitting out questions faster than you can answer and the others who are listening can only grow more concerned knowing that the Steve their seeing on the phone isn’t his sappy lovey self.

You swallow, sniffling again, “I’m okay, babe. I—I just needed to hear your voice.”

His heart aches hearing the obvious sadness in your voice that you’re trying to mask, but all it does is cause more worry. You’ve cried to Steve a hand full of times and each time it still breaks his heart, but it hurts even more that you’re far away and he’s not able to see you face to face.

“You’re scaring me. I’m gonna come there and get you.” He offers immediately, patting his pockets checking if he has his car keys which he doesn’t have.

“No, no, it’s fine, I called because I quit…I quit my job.” You explain with a heavy sigh.

There’s silence for only a quick moment, a breath of relief coming from Steve knowing that you aren’t in danger, but he’s prompt to offer to come and get you again.

“Oh…baby, I-I’m sorry. Did you want me to come there and pick you up? Eddie could drive your car back home and we’ll take my car together?”

He’s speaking gently, peering over his shoulder at Eddie who is already nodding and standing up ready to go wherever you are, knowing that Steve needs to know you’re safe.

You take a shaky breath, collecting yourself before speaking, “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine to drive…it’s just that I needed to hear your voice before I got into the car. Just a long night, I’m sorry for worrying yo—”

Steve shakes his head, waving his hand over towards Eddie, telling him that it’s okay and he can sit back down before mouthing a “thank you” before turning back to the call.

“Hey, no stop, don’t apologize. I’m right here okay? Not gonna hang up until you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you as soon as you’re ready to hang up okay?”

You don’t try to hide it anymore, letting your sniffles and sobs loose. Every second that passes by is tugging on his heart strings wanting to do nothing more than to rush wherever you are, but he knows you’re going to be fine, you just need some more time with him.

“O—okay, just had a really long night. I was trying to just get through my shift but, I…I just couldn’t do it.”

You sound pissed off at yourself, irritated that you couldn’t make it through the night shift. But he knew it was for good reason if it made you up and quit — he didn’t blame you and he was far from mad.

“And that’s perfectly fine, sweetheart. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out alright? We can look through the newspaper for job offerings and I can take you to drop off resumes. It’s all gonna be okay, ok?”

“Okay,” you whisper faintly, swiping away at your tears and nose.

He knows it’s important that you calm down before you get behind the wheel. If you don’t, he’ll drive down there himself, not wanting to risk you driving when you’re feeling like this.

“I’m right here with you, baby. Deep breath, in and out. That’s good, babe.” He guides you through it, hearing your shaky breaths slowly easing.

Steve doesn’t have to turn his head to know the worry etched on his friends’ faces is apparent. They’re anxiously waiting, wondering what’s going on, only being able to hear parts of it through Steve’s tender words that he offers you.

They know they all have a habit of teasing him and poking fun at the way he’s whipped over you, but this is a different side of him that they rarely get to witness. The vulnerable side that only comes out when he’s with you even with the distance that’s keeping you both apart.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, alright, baby? Drive safely.” He speaks, nodding his head to himself before he places the receiver back on the stand and turns to face his friends.

“Is she okay?” Eddie asks worriedly as Steve nods and brushes a hand through his hair.

“She had a tough night and quit. She’s heading her now.” Steve reveals and everyone nods before Robin stands up and pats him on the back.

“C’mon, let’s go wait for her upstairs.”

The gang had migrated from the basement to the living room, awaiting your arrival. They had tried to do everything to reassure Steve, to get him to sit down and wait patiently, but they weren’t surprised that he didn’t budge and instead kept his place by the window, watching the driveway.

Everyone has their eyes on the clock, watching the minutes pass by and glancing every so often when headlights pass the street, thinking that it’s you.

The worried expression doesn’t leave his face until he finally sees two headlights turn into the driveway.

“She’s here,” Steve says under his breath, not wasting a moment to dash out the front door, slamming it behind him.

He’s at the driver’s side before you can even put the car into park. His fingers wrap around the door, pulling it open as you don’t hesitate to get out and wrap your arms around him, hiding your teary face in his neck as you melt into his embrace.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” He says quietly, keeping one of his hands on the back of your head while the other rubs comforting circles on your back.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and he can feel the tears springing from your eyes, trailing across his skin. The feeling burns him in every kind of way that tears his heart apart slowly. How he wishes he can take the weight of what you’re feeling off your shoulders and instead he can carry it for you. But all he can do right now is hold you, brush his hard over your head and pull you as close as he can get you, and whisper words of comfort, hoping it will take the pain away.

“I—I really needed you. I just kept thinking of how badly I wanted to run into your arms when I walked out of there. They made me feel so stupid and useless and I—”

He shushes you smoothly, shaking his head and tearing you away from his neck so you can see him.

“Screw them, baby. We can write a complaint or something because you don’t deserve to get treated like that, alright?” His voice is firm full of determination not showing you how angry he is at your boss or co-workers for letting this escalate.

Your palms come up to your eyes, rubbing them as your voice breaks. “I know, but I just feel so d-dumb—”

He shakes his head, tugging gently at your wrists to stop you from hiding, “Hey stop, don’t say that. You don’t know how much you mean to me and how much I hate when I hear you say those things about yourself.”

You sniffle, smiling at him apologetically, “Sorry, I know…I—I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you called and I’m happier to know you’re okay. I was scared shitless.” He grimaces, grazing his sights over every inch of your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say softly, “I was just planning on showing up here, but I guess everything was just building and building and when I finally quit and walked out of there I felt like I was going to collapse and I just needed you.”

His heart swells with love and admiration, for a minute it replaces the worry and anguish. It’s stupid because he shouldn’t be smiling as wide as he is right now with tears prickling his eyes in the best way possible.

You’ve never held back on telling him how much you cared and appreciated him for being the best boyfriend in the world…but to be needed is a whole different level that he’s new to. One that mends his heart of all the traumas and has him holding your face in his hands while he blinks the tears down his cheeks as you watch.

You’re confused, brows pinching together as you swipe your thumbs across his cheeks and wonder what he’s thinking and smiling about. It’s only when he speaks that you understand what’s happening.

“I love you, you know that?” His voice quivers, teeters on the edge of fear and letting go.

Your jaw trembles, new tears falling down your cheeks, this time in a happy way that has you forgetting about the horrible shift you had just endured.

None of that matters when you’re standing in the arms of the man who’s telling you that he loves you.

You’re laughing through the tears, feelings the comfort and safety in his embrace, “Y-yeah?” you ask stupidly, as if he could ever change his mind.

He nods, laughing weakly,“Yeah…like a lot. I love you so much and I’m always gonna be here…not gonna go anywhere. Right here whenever you need me.”

“I love you too, Stevie.” You cooed, standing up on your tiptoes and kissing him with every ounce of your being.

Your lips move in synchronicity, the familiarity of each other never building contempt, instead making you both stronger. It’s a feeling that will never get old and that neither of you would get tired of experiencing. Even at your worse, you know it’ll always be okay as long as you have him to keep you tethered.

Time freezes for everyone, not just you and Steve — your friends watching in the window and smiling at the scene before them.

They’ve always known that you and him were in love since the moment you two said hello. It’s just that now, it feels a lot nicer being able to witness the moment you two finally realize it. The love you share and everything in between.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like this little something something i wrote based off "in between" by gracie abrams. i absolutely love this song and it's so underrated (ITS UNREALEASED KINDA LOL). anyways, let me know what you think!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

“how can i move on when i’m still in love with you”

genres — angst, angst, and more angst. suggestive.

word count — 2k

summary — two years ago, pedri shattered his childhood best friend's heart by ending their relationship. he was her first kiss, first boyfriend, and first love. now, as she prepares to start fresh while pursuing her master's degree, pedri reappears with a single mission: to mend the heart he once broke. can she trust him again, or will their past define their future?

an — repost! i accidentally deleted my blog so before i release anything new, i’m gonna repost my series’s. if this is your first time reading, let me know if you’re interested in a taglist!

masterlist

as soon as pedri made it back into the locker room after the win over espanyol, he showered quickly, his thoughts already racing ahead. the celebrations disrupted his usual routine, but that didn’t stop him from meeting his family in the corridor outside the visitors' room.

“pedrito!” his mother’s voice was a balm to his buzzing nerves. he found his little family draped in his jerseys and entered his mom’s loving embrace. his father and brother, fernando, joined in shortly after. the adrenaline was still rushing through his veins, and he could not shake the happiness of achieving one of his dreams.

“congratulations, my boy,” his father said, kissing the top of his head. fer squeezed the back of his neck lovingly, the familiar touch grounding him.

the embrace was interrupted by his mother’s ringtone blaring from her phone.

“one second.” she pulled away and kissed his cheek before pulling her phone out. her lips broke into a smile seeing who was calling. “it’s lucia. she texted me earlier asking you to call her so she can congratulate you and make you some goxua when you come home.” his mom rattled off about her best friend before walking away to answer her phone.

pedri was unfazed at the mention of his mother’s best friend but couldn’t help his mind wandering to her daughter once again.

fer is pedri’s best friend; of course, he knew his brother wasn’t over her. however, he gave up on meddling because both of you failed to bite the bucket and tell each other that even after all this time, you’re still deeply in love with each other.

“i need to do some marketing and campaigns for next season, so maybe in a week? you could stay until then if you want,” pedri tried to offer nonchalantly, but he didn’t want to admit how lonely his apartment feels without his family and you.

“fer, you can’t. remember you promised tía that you would help y/n move,” their father spoke up before grabbing his wife’s hand as she re-approached them.

pedri’s eyes widened at his father’s words. “move? where? since when?”

fer looked at his dad with eyes mirroring pedri’s. no one was supposed to know, especially not pedri.

“cariño,” their mom squeezed her husband’s arm before clearing her throat, “yes, but she told us not to tell you. she’s moving to start her master’s degree on the mainland.”

wow, was all pedri thought. he always knew you wanted to further your learning with a master’s degree, but he couldn’t believe time had flown by so quickly. it seemed like just yesterday he held you while you cried, waiting for university acceptances. it broke him when his family attended your graduation and forwarded photos with you. that smile, one that was permanently ingrained in his memory, even though the last time he saw you, that same smile was absent from your face.

“that’s amazing. i always knew she could do it,” his head dropped with a smile.

“she’s actually—” his mom started before thinking over her decision to mention this information. seeing the love that’s ever so present in his eyes, she knew what she had to do. “she’s going to school here in barcelona. she got accepted to the computer engineering program at uab.”

his family could practically see a light bulb brighten over his head. he remembered his words from two years ago and the reason he made the decision to break up with you: the distance. even after all that, he felt the thousands of miles slowly vanish at the idea of you being in the same city as him.

maybe, just maybe, he can allow himself to indulge in the idea of being close to you again. that idea he has had almost every day and night since breaking your heart.

his heart is racing like it’s a game day and the ref is about to blow the whistle.

he finds himself thinking of your time together. you were always so gentle with him, caring for him when he was exhausted from games and training. he was so willing to ruin that, thinking it was the best for both of you.

“everybody keep it down,” pedri said over the voices of his teammates, his closest friends since he moved to barcelona.

“can you hurry? today’s training killed me,” alejandro groaned while slumping onto the already crowded couch.

“hermano, what could be so urgent that you sent an SOS to the group chat?” it was gavi’s turn to speak up.

pedri groaned. if they would stop their questions, maybe he could get there. he looked to his brother for help. fer chuckled before standing on the other side of his brother’s tv.

“okay everybody listen up before my brother bursts a blood vessel,” fer said. pedri rolled his eyes at his brother’s words. he knew what the impromptu meeting was for and was truly just there for moral support.

“i brought you guys here for some advice. you might remember my girl—” he stopped himself. “my ex-girlfriend from two years ago,” he started.

“the one you horribly messed up with?” ansu spoke up.

“the one you have moped over for the past two years,” fermin chimed in.

“the one we thought you’d never get over?” ferran added with a teasing smile.

“thank you for that,” pedri said sarcastically. “yes, my y/n. she has moved to barcelona from tenerife for her master’s degree, and seeing as we broke up because of distance, i think now would be the best time to reach out to her and maybe see if there is hope for us,” he finished and looked down at his friends’ smiles from the couch.

“which leads me to,” he continued and turned his attention to his tv, where he connected his phone.

operation: get y/n back

laughter erupted throughout the room, but not out of judgment; they all knew pedri would be the type of person to create a thorough presentation on how to get the love of his life back.

“you actually made a presentation?” gavi asked, still chuckling.

“of course he did,” fer said, shaking his head with a smile. “pedri, always the planner.”

pedri ignored his friends and puffed his chest while continuing the plan he had turned over in his head for days since he found out his girl was in the same city as him.

“listen, i need all of your help. i’ve mapped out the best places to take her, the right things to say, and even backup plans in case things go wrong.”

“wow, you really went all out,” alejandro said, impressed.

“this is serious, guys. she’s the one. i know it,” pedri said, determination clear in his voice.

“we’re with you, hermano,” ferran said, clapping him on the shoulder. “let’s get her back.”

“first things first,” pedri said, clicking to the next slide on his presentation. “we need to start with a casual meetup. something that doesn’t scream ‘i’m still in love with you’ but more ‘i’m happy you’re here.’”

“a coffee shop,” ansu suggested. “neutral ground, easy conversation.”

“and then what?” fermin asked.

“then, i remind her of the good times we had, but without making it seem like i’m living in the past,” pedri replied. “and i show her that i’m serious about making things work this time.”

“and if she’s moved on?” gavi asked.

pedri paused for a moment, then shook his head. “i don’t think she has. i saw the way she looked at me the last time we spoke. there’s still something there. i just need to show her that i’ve grown and that we can make it work.”

“you’ve got our support, pedri,” ferran said. “let’s make this happen.”

“thanks, guys,” pedri said, feeling a surge of confidence. “i will get her back, even if it’s the last thing i do.”

“did you leave anything? any books? some vitamins? any medicines?” your mom bombarded you with questions, the same ones she has asked every day in the past week you’ve been in your dorm at UAB.

“mami, i am okay. stop worrying. i just got out of a lecture. i was planning to get something to eat.” you could not be bothered to make yourself anything to eat. your dorm has a shared kitchen in the lobby, but you hated going down there midday while everyone was there.

UAB was nothing like your old campus. it doubled in size to compensate for the doubled population as well. you’re not sure you would ever get used to your new environment.

this wasn’t your first time in barcelona, but being here for a week was nothing like your visit from years ago when you came to his games.

nope. don’t think of him. you vowed to yourself the day after the league title you were done mourning your first relationship. you got accepted to your dream school and program. you had your family, and you would get friends. barcelona would have new memories attached to it, and the boy that broke your heart would not be a part of it.

“okay, make sure you eat a good meal, mi amor. don’t stay up again studying, please. your father and i love you,” your mom kissed through the phone as you said your goodbyes.

you loved your mom, but you inherited her tendency to worry. no matter how much you prepared for your test, you still found yourself studying for hours into the night.

you dropped your bag at the front of your room and looked into the mirror. after one week of schooling, you felt drained. you knew how vigorous your program would be but never imagined not having even a moment to breathe. you closed your eyes and took a moment to yourself before hearing a knock at your door.

you furrowed your eyes. you didn’t know anyone in barcelona yet and did not order food, so who could be knocking at your door? you decided to ignore the knocks and continued to take off your flannel, leaving you in your tank top.

that was until the knocking continued. you huffed, it must be a neighbor. there was no one else who would be knocking.

you grew annoyed at the knocking and quickly grabbed the knob without looking at the peephole.

your mistake.

you never imagined the person in front of you. the familiar brown eyes that looked at you. the boy who broke your heart, the one you haven’t seen since the day he shattered your heart on your doorstep.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024