#I don’t suffer as much besides waking early.

[riverflowsanywherebuthere]

All of y’all on the other side of the world staying awake for the monarchical summit drop, sending coffee (or tea or energy drinks) and vibes

Stay strong ㅠ0ㅠ

[starlightsreigns]

daddy's home | d. priest

pairing: damian priest x black!oc (maya)

warning: 18+ nsfw! SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, unprotected sex, cnc (ish), minors, dni (please & thank u)

word count: 2125

note: sorry for any errors, wrote this in the middle of the night.

summary: maya misses her man more than anything, and her wish is always his command

5:30 pm - thursday

Maya lays sprawled out on the couch, exhausted from the day of work she had suffered. Her jet-black hair fluffed all over her face, flaring up whenever she took a deep breath. After sulking for a moment, she hoisted herself up to climb the stairs to take a shower. 

The water was warm against her tense muscles. As an ER nurse, she’d work 72 hours on then have the next four days off. She was thankful for the opportunity to wash away all the stress and forget about the responsibilities she’d have first day back at work. For the next 3 days, she planned on sleeping, online shopping, ordering in, watching TV, and masturbating… it was only unfortunate that her boyfriend was on the road, not coming home any time soon.

Being a wrestler who traveled a lot was never an issue for her. Maya understood because being on-call at the hospital made it hard for her to make solid plans or commit to anything. She and Damian just figured it out. They always figured it out. 

After her shower, Maya wrapped a towel around her body, sitting on the edge of her bed to grab her phone. A missed call from Damian was the first thing she saw when the screen lit up – a smile tugged on her lips as she returned the Facetime call. 

“Hi baby,” Maya smiled when the call connected. His hair was pulled back in the neatest ponytail, which drove her crazy. “I wish you were here, papi.” 

“Ah mi amor, I wish I was there with you too.” His deep, rough voice came through the phone. “I’m thinkin’ about you.” 

Maya rests her back against the mattress, holding up the phone so Damian can see her face and her chest as she slowly moves the towel to reveal her breasts. Damian didn’t say anything as he licked his lips at her actions. 

“I don’t think you miss me that much, daddy.” She purrs, teasing her nipples. 

“Cariña,” Damian’s voice is rough and she knows she’s got him exactly where she wants. “You killin’ me right now.” 

Nothing else comes out of her mouth as she lowers the camera to her exposed stomach, caressing the soft skin as she pushes the towel onto the ground. She angled the camera to give him the perfect view of her heat as she propped her legs up on the mattress. 

“God, I wish you were here,” Maya slowly arches her back as her fingers find their way between her now wet folds. “All I can do is think about you.”

 The gasp that leaves her lips is the final nail in Damian’s coffin. Hearing the way the moans fall out of her lips drives him insane. The way her fingers skillfully move keeps him in a trance as he palms himself through his shorts. 

As she reaches her climax, Maya stares up at the ceiling, chest heaving, “come home, daddy.”

It takes a second for Maya to come back down, but when she does, she flips onto her stomach to look at her boyfriend once again. 

“Eres una provocadora, Maya.” He smirks back at his girlfriend. “I can’t wait til I get my hands on you.”

“If you ever make it back home, I guess you will.” She rolls her eyes. 

Damian can sense her annoyance and rightfully so. He quietly watches as she sets up the phone on the dresser. Maya goes through her stuff, throwing on one of his T-shirts and a black thong. She twirls to give him a full view. Her boyfriend cheers making her laugh. 

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go, call me when you wake up in the morning?” 

He hums, “Of course, mi amor, I love you.”

9:30 am - friday

Maya yawned as she walked out of the bathroom, dropping back onto her bed. It was rare that she woke up this early, but her body naturally got her up. Her empty cup of coffee sat beside her and her hair was tied up in a ponytail. Her frustrations were mounting without Damian there. She was never this insatiable, ever, but here she was fighting urges like a teenager all over again. 

“Holy shit,” Maya groaned, flipping over to stick her face into a pillow. 

The pressure between her legs was becoming unbearable. One of her hands finds its way between her folds while she picks up her phone with the other. 

maya: baby, i wish you’d wake me up and fuck me senseless. 

damian: if i could be there mama, i’d do anything for your ass

maya: i’ve gotten myself off three times since yesterday. I can’t keep fucking doing this. 

damian: i’ll make it up to you, baby, i promise.

damian: just know, imma fuck you up when i see you. Only another week.

The knots in Maya’s stomach made it difficult for her to sit on the floor in front of her mirror. The T-shirt she wore the night before was discarded on the bed leaving her with with just the thong. Damian would describe her disheveled look as ethereal. Her black curly hair lay on her shoulders, her breast fully on display, with her right hand rubbing circles on her clit. Maya recorded the moment, throwing her head back in pleasure. Damian. The only word on her lips. She slowly inserted a digit in her soaking cunt, gasping while her eyes shut. Her brown skin was almost iridescent from the sunlight pouring into the room. And the sound of her wetness was both disgusting and indulgent, only causing her to add another finger, pumping in faster as she reached her orgasm. Maya could feel herself start to unravel and the only thing she could say as she came was her boyfriend’s name.

Yet, it wasn’t enough. Maya slumped to the side, groaning at the fact that what she just did was temporary until she would inevitably be horny again in an hour or two. She sends the video to Damian, locking her phone. Her next best option was to take a cold shower and a nap. 

12:15 pm - friday

The house was quiet when Damian unlocked the door. He had to get home when his girl needed him. So, he took a redeye home. Damian tried to remain as quiet as possible, leaving his stuff by the door, and moving towards the bedroom where Maya was asleep. He couldn’t contain his smile at the sight of her. She was sprawled on the bed, on her stomach, wearing nothing but a thong. Her hair covered her shoulders and part of her face. 

Damian shed his coat, leaving it on the ground as he moved towards the bed. Her text from earlier still ringing in his brain, coming to grant her wish. He removed the black T-shirt he was wearing. As he stood at the edge of the bed, Damian ran his hands over her soft skin, starting from her ankle, up her leg, over her perfectly round ass, and to her back. Maya doesn’t shift as her boyfriend caresses her. 

“mi hermosa amor,” He murmurs as he leans down lightly biting one of her ass cheeks. “Pura perfección, mi novia.”

Just staring at his girlfriend made it difficult for Damian to contain himself as his jeans tightened. He took off his jeans, reaching to easily rip her thong. His hand stroked his growing erection, not even knowing where to start with his girlfriend. Damian slowly got onto the bed, caressing the ass that he’s missed so much. To his surprise, she was soaking wet. He groaned to himself as he dragged a finger through the slick making his girlfriend shudder, yet still asleep. One finger slips in, causing Maya to let out the softest moan, Damian watches her face as she was fast asleep and adds another finger. Maya was holding on tightly as he pumped his fingers in out out, completely turned on by the situation. 

Unable to hold off any longer, Damian smacked her ass, positioning himself behind her, his tip dangerously close to her entrance. He hovers over her, pressing a kiss on her shoulder as he pushes into her. Maya’s face was pressed into the pillow, her breathing pick up as Damian bottomed out in her – they were skin to skin and he couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten how good his girlfriend felt around him. Just the way he was squeezing around his dick was enough to drive him insane. He wanted to milk the moment the way Maya was milking him at that moment. Damian pulled out and then slammed back into her, loving the sound that was created every time their skin came into contact with each other. He couldn’t hold off any longer, the slower pace was driving him insane. 

The pressure building inside Maya and the bed shaking is enough to wake her from her sleep, unable to contain the moan that fell from her lips. Damien chuckled at the confused look on her face, grabbing her by the neck so she can see him. 

“Daddy’s home, mi muñeca,” He growled into her ear as the moans fell out her parted mouth. “Look at you, ain’t this what you wanted, Maya?”

It was impossible to get a word out of her the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head but when Damian tightened the grip around her throat, she had to choke out an answer, “Y-yes daddy.” Maya trembled out. 

“Ass up,” Damien tapped on her ass, letting go of her throat so she can slump down onto the pillow. “Lemme give you what you been beggin’ for.” When her ass comes up, he grips her waist, slamming into her so hard that Maya can’t release a sound, but a whimper.

When his balls hit her clit with all that force, the moan finally frees itself from her throat and she can’t stop it from there. Maya grips the sheets until her knuckles turn white. Her neighbors are probably concerned by the way she couldn’t contain the nose coming out of her mouth. The pleasure created the thickest haze in her brain. 

“You look so fucking good, mama,” Damian groaned, pulling out quickly to flip Maya onto her back then moving her to the edge of the bed. He plows back into her before she can have the chance to whine about the loss of contact. He hooks her legs around her shoulder then leans down to capture her lips with his as he buries himself deep in her cunt. Everything leaves her breathless, unable to conjure up a single thought. The pace is steady, hitting her g-spot like the pro he is, over and over again. 

“Damian,” Maya groans, arching her back as she feels herself begin to unfold. “I’m gonna cum, I can’t–right there–” 

A groan leaves her mouth as he speeds up, cutting off her words, “Go ‘head, muñeca” His voice comes out gruff, not letting up even when her eyes roll back and her body goes numb. Maya could swear her lip was bleeding from how hard she bit on it. Her eyes were open but she couldn’t see anything but a bright light as Damian fucked her until his release, filling her deep. 

Maya, with all the strength she had left, pulled the older man on top of her, connecting their lips. She kisses him as though she hasn’t seen him in years unwilling to let him go. She didn’t realize when she started crying, but her emotions have had a mind of their own recently.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Damian was concerned, running his hand up and down her body wondering if he’d hurt her. 

“I’m just so happy you’re here, love, that’s all.” She murmurs against his neck. When Damian lays beside her, she shifts so she’s sitting on his lap, whining when his tip grazes her heat. “How’d you do it?” 

In their current position, Damian watched as his girlfriend massaged his chest, mindlessly grinding against his dick. Her eyes were locked on his and he was shocked by her insatiability. “I wanted to surprise you, I know we haven’t seen each other in a while and my baby seems a little… hornier than usual.” 

Maya shyly looks down, halting her motion, “I’m sorry if it’s too much, I don’t know where it came from.”

“No, don’t apologize baby, ever,” He lifts her chin to bring back their eye contact. “It’s sexy.” Damian grips her waist, restarting her motions. 

“How long are you home?” Maya questions, feeling his erection.

“All weekend, all for you, as many times as we can.” 

They both smile, falling into round two.

-

truly the most random thing that came to me in the middle of the night. well... until next time :)

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE MAKE THIS?

(Family) "JJK Men as Your Father – They Plan Your Birthday!"

I beg you, please! ☹️ I've never seen any SMAU or fanfic like this before. And I love your writing so, so, so much, girl! I'm seriously obsessed with you. I love you! Please don’t die!

JJK Men as Your Father – They Plan Your Birthday!

Synonsis - they planned your birthday! You as their daughters

Characters- gojo Satoru, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, choso kamo and geto suguru.

Gojo Satoru

Gojo does not believe in “small” celebrations. He rents out an entire amusement park for your birthday. Every ride is free. Every food stall is yours to raid. There’s a massive firework display spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY PERFECT ANGEL” in the sky.

and if you think you can have a quiet moment to breathe, you’re wrong.

He hires a DJ, a magician, and somehow convinces the Tokyo governor to attend. The cake? It’s a 10-layer monstrosity, taller than you. You try to cut it, but Gojo swoops in, dramatically wiping a fake tear.

“My baby is growing up so fast! No, no, let Daddy do this.”

At some point, you find yourself on stage while Gojo forces the crowd (including Nanami, who is suffering) to sing happy birthday twice.

When you finally sit down, exhausted, Gojo leans in with a mischievous grin.

“So… wanna hear about your next birthday party?

Geto suguru

He wakes you up early, carrying a tray of breakfast in bed with a small flower tucked into the napkin. His gift? Something deeply personal maybe a handmade charm infused with his cursed energy for protection or a rare book he spent months searching for.

Your party is a relaxed gathering with close friends, warm string lights decorating the backyard. He cooks all your favorite foods by himself, occasionally shooing Gojo away when he tries to sneak a taste.

At some point, he sits beside you, ruffling your hair. “You know, no matter how old you get, you’ll always be my kid.”

It’s simple, warm, and perfect until Gojo crashes in with a stolen party popper and ruins the peace.

Nanami Kento

He plans everything weeks in advance, from the venue to the cake flavor. Everything runs on schedule. Your gifts are practical yet thoughtful a high-quality notebook if you like writing, a rare collectible if you’re into something specific.

He lets you do whatever you want for the day, as long as it’s reasonable. But then, Gojo somehow infiltrates the party, dragging you into absolute chaos. Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose.

“This is why I didn’t invite you.”

Still, at the end of the night, he pats your head. “Happy birthday. I hope you had a good day.”

And even if he complains, you know he enjoyed seeing you happy.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji doesn’t do traditional birthdays. Instead of a party, he takes you on the wildest trip ever. Go-kart racing? Done. Laser tag? Booked. Secret underground fight club where he bets on you?

…Wait, what?He buys you the most expensive, unnecessary gift maybe a custom-made weapon if you're into fighting, or a luxury-brand outfit if you like fashion.(He saved the money)

He smirks, ruffling your hair. “Gotta spoil my kid, yeah?”

At some point, he gets into a competitive drinking contest with shiu and starts yelling about how he’s the “coolest dad.” You spend half your party dragging him away before he fights someone.

Ryomen Sukuna

Your “party” is held in the middle of a cursed-infested temple. He sits on his throne, smirking as cursed spirits bring out a massive feast roasted meats, exotic fruits, golden goblets filled with who-knows-what.

At some point, he grins, sharp teeth flashing.

“Since it’s your birthday, I’ll let you choose: Do you want a gift… or a sacrifice?”

“…Dad, what?”

He ends up giving you some insanely powerful artifact that no normal person should have. And if anyone dares mess with you on your birthday? They're gone.

Choso kamo

Choso is the softest dad. He spends days making your favorite food from scratch. The decorations are handmade, the cake is slightly uneven but filled with love. He wakes you up with a soft hug.

“Happy birthday, my little one.”He lets you rest and does everything for you that day. You don’t lift a finger.

When you open his gift a framed photo of you and your siblings, beautifully decorated he watches you with the proudest smile.At the end of the night, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“I hope today was as wonderful as you are.”And honestly? It was.

[artists-ally]

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien Vanssera {Pt. 3}

Welp... here you go! I shall prepare to be boiled alive. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,525

Warnings: you know the drill. Angst, language, hurt/comfort, nasty ass cliffhanger

Tagging: @bubybubsters @thelov3lybookworm @cyrygher @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @anuttellaa @crazylokonugget @thehighlordishere @acourtofbatboydreams @thisblogisaboutabook @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @venuseuripedis

Summary: Can everything be reconciled? Be repaired? Was it all just a big misunderstanding?

~~~~~~

READER POV

THAT MORNING...

There is nothing quite as startling as waking up to the sound of silence. In a life full of chaos, full of commotion and the constant buzz of energy, silence is unsettling. Especially in a house that should be full of laughter, taunting jokes, and easy smiles.

Anger seared my heart. Branded it black. Visions of heated conversations seep into mind, flooding my vision in red. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad in my life. The fact that he chose her over me. But I refused to let him disrespect me. I said hurtful things. And a twisted part of me likes the fact that they hurt him. I wanted him to suffer and grovel as much as I have been. 

It’s petty, but I don’t care.

I push myself out of bed, dragging to the bathroom to sort myself out. I look in the mirror: skin? Dry. Eyes? Puffy. Lips? Swollen. I look tired. I am tired. And no amount of sleep will fix the bone deep ache of sheer disappointment. 

Gods, he is still everywhere. Even with all his stuff gone; his toothbrush, his signature scent, his body soap and cufflinks sitting in the dish behind the faucet, somehow, he’s still here. Bits and pieces of him, of his once kind words…. All of it has turned sour. 

A day has yet to go by where I don’t think of him. Of his laugh. Of the way his lip trembles when he cries. 

I miss him. 

And every day I hate myself more for it. 

I shouldn’t miss him. What did he do besides torture me with the fact that he’ll never give me the time of day? Just like Elain was doing to him. I hope he’s happy. No, I don’t. That’s a lie. I hope he’s just as miserable as I am. 

That’s even more of a lie. 

I dress without thinking, my outfit the same as it has been for the past month and a half after opening the restaurant. The double breasted, black chefs coat with three stars embroidered over the heart. The slithering, embroidered black filigree on the shoulders, in a slightly different sheen to make them stand out. The pants had matching details over the pockets and down the side of the pant leg. My boots slip on and I grab my cap, fitting it over my head before heading out the door to get an early start. 

Every fucking day since I kicked him out has been an early start. Anything to keep myself in this place we used to call home. I should move. Repaint at the least. Change something. 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

Everything is painfully the same.

When I need change the most, I can’t–for the life of me–decide what I want that change to be. 

It doesn’t fucking matter. 

He’ll always be there.

A murmur in the back of my head of what could’ve been. 

Should I be this jealous? This aggravated over this whole thing? Am I overreacting? It’s not like he cheated on me, we weren’t even together. But I wanted him so bad I was willing to kick him out because he chose someone else over me. Oh Gods… I am a horrible-

No, I stop myself. Taking a deep breath as I step down off the porch, heading down the well beaten dirt path towards the city. Your feelings are valid. He hurt you. Badly. You didn’t overreact. Some would say it might’ve been an underreaction, or how could you have let it go on this long? You are allowed to be upset, for as long as you need. No one can tell you otherwise. 

No one can tell you otherwise. I repeat the words over and over. I stare down at the cobblestone sidewalks, firsts clenched under my arms. I chew my lip. I clench my teeth. Things I always did, and things Lucien would try to get me to stop. 

He’d put a hand on my shoulder. Or grab my hand to keep from digging my nails into my palms. 

No one will ever know me as well as he did. 

And that shatters my soul.

The thought of having to try to explain the events of my life to someone all over again… it’ll be impossible. Why couldn’t he have just loved me back?

Before I have time to realize where I’m going, I’m at Meliora. I see Ms. Immy bustling around. I wonder if she ever sleeps. 

“Ah!” She cheers when I walk in the door. “My Spirit of the Gods! How are you dear?”

I give a half smile. “I’ve been better. Just the usual for me, please.”

“You are still missing your Fox?”

I nod. I watch as she pours the bubbling water into my mug, dipping the peppermint tea bag into the liquid. She’s so methodical. I’ve been here a thousand times, and she manages to make it the same way every time. Ms. Immy dusts the top with granules of sugar, adding a mint leaf to the top. She slides it in front of me as she grabs the chocolate chip muffin from the case. 

“When are you going to talk to him?”

The question throws me for a loop. I answer honestly, “I wasn’t planning on ever seeing him again.”

She snorts. “I doubt that will hold true. He misses you too.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.”

Yes. I do. “I don’t know how to forgive him.”

“Then don’t.”

I blink. What? “So, you think I should make amends with him, but not forgive him? How does that work?”

“He is your mate, no?” I nod. “Then you love him. Why is it so difficult to forgive someone you love?”

“I don’t know,” I bit my tongue. “I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Yet you still want him back.”

Wow. I sound so pathetic. I cast my eyes down, tapping my fingers on the mug. “No matter how much I love him, I won’t let myself remain second place. I refuse to let myself go through to torture of always being picked next. Never first. No matter how much it hurts to stay away from him.”

She clicks her tongue, wiping down the counter behind her. Faintly, she hums a tune, its melody ringing in my ears. I feel like I knew it once. But I've been so caught up in everything that happened last month to bother trying to hold onto those types of memories. 

I am losing myself.

“Do you know the meaning of Meliora?”

It’s the name of her cafe. I shrugged, “No, should I?”

“It means the place for better things, my Spirit. It is an ancient omen, an ancient oath of the Night Court. This is a Meliora, a place for better things. Seems like you could use some better things.”

“I have Latibule. I am living my dream of owning a restaurant. Better has come.”

“And it has gone,” Ms. Immy says. “Don’t fool yourself Yn. You are lost without Lucien. If he were to ask for your forgiveness, to give up Elain and all that has happened, would you accept him? If he said he only wanted you, would you have him?”

I grind my teeth together. The peppermint tea has turned to acid on my tongue. No one can tell you otherwise, no one can tell you otherwise…

“There are things in the world Yn, so precious and hard to find that it would be stupid to let it go. To trade it away over unintentional negligence. Lucien loves you. You love him. The two of you have been blessed by the Cauldron with a mate. Let it go to waste and suffer the consequences of never being able to fill that void. Let it rot your mind and heart for anyone else.”

I grind my teeth harder. Why does she insist on forgiving Lucien? 

“After everything I did for him, after saving his life and rebuilding him from the ground up, he decides to repay me how? By forgetting about me and standing me up on the most important day of my life? Seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

“There is a great balance in this world. And to keep it, the Cauldron dishes out magic and illusions to offset it. Lucien got the short end of the stick and got more than he could handle.”

“Well that's not my fault.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But it is your problem. Yn, all I’m suggesting is you give him a chance. There is no telling what will happen between you two if you don’t try.”

“I don’t want to try, what if I make things worse? What if it doesn’t work out?”

“But what if it does?” _____

But what if it does? I have been doing nothing all service besides thinking what Ms. Immy last said to me. But what if it does? I start spiriling with questions after that. 

What if it does work out? Will I be able to fully trust that he won’t run back to Elaine? If it doesn't, will I just spend the rest of my life trying to find him in everyone else? Will I ever find someone else? How can I be so sure that he’ll want me in his life after I’ve kicked him out? If I see him, will I want to punch him in the face? Could I even stomach looking at him? Would I just puke from nerves and anger? Should I even bother? What if I never get the chance to-

“Yn, there is a table seated in section 8 for you,” my lovely hostess, Esmira, calls from the window.

“I’ve got six pans on right now, Es. I can’t just take a table. Where are Karos and Daxillion? They’re supposed to have a handle on this right now.”

“We’ve got a full house. It’s the High Lord and Lady, as well as her sister and the General.”

Shit. It’s midweek, why do we have a full house? Especially at lunch. From what I’ve heard amongst my staff's gossip, Lucien has been living at his house. I don’t want to see anyone. Especially someone who’s been caring for him. 

“Okay… okay fine I’ll take the table. Go take their drink orders and I’ll be right back. Esro, I need you to cover my station in between checks.”

“Heard,” he calls back dutifully. He always takes the shit I give him and dusts it with gold. I should give him a raise. 

I jog to the supply closet where I have an extra uniform stashed in case of an emergency. I change quickly, taking my cap off and fluffing out my hair. Not bad but… not great. I still look so tired. 

Esmira scampers into the bathroom to hand me their drink list. A bottle of wine and water for the table. Easy enough. 

Racking the glasses onto the carrier, I haul the bottle of wine and decanter of water to the table, plastering a courageous smile on my lips. Who knows if it’s actually convincing. 

“Evening, my High Lord and Lady,” I greet. “Cassian and-” Elain. It’s Elain. What is she doing- “Elain. Good to see you out and-”

“You don’t have to pretend to be excited to see me. I know you’re not. I ruined your relationship with Lucien.”

Well, shit okay guess this is happening now. What do I say? “He made a choice, it’s not your fault.” I settled on. 

But it is your problem… screw you Ms. Immy. 

She looks hesitantly to the High Lord, who gives a firm nod. She sighs. “I’ve tried to stop him from pursuing me for months. He still comes back. I share no bond with the firehead.”

Firehead, ha! Why had I never thought of that one?

I just press my lips together, fighting off the prickle in my nose and throat. “Can I take your meal orders? Anything you’d like to start with?”

“He misses you, Yn.” Rhysand spoke. His violet eyes swirling with stars. “Is there a chance you’ll talk to him?”

I feel like such an outsider looking at the Inner Circle. There were so many outcomes I could’ve had in Velaris. I could’ve been a part of their Court, not just an inhabitant. But I chose the path my heart wanted, and lost the thing it needed most. 

I swipe the tear away as fast as it falls. 

“I’ll bring a round of bread for the table.” And I head off. 

____

After I had served them their meals, bid them farewell with a pitiful look on the High Lords face, the room was a lost less crowded. 

Now I’m starting to wonder if we were meant to say goodbye. Maybe there is something salvageable. But I don’t want to shred myself to pieces for a maybe. Even he is not worthy of my self destruction. 

But what if it does?

“Hello?” A sultry voice says from behind me. I rack the polished pint glass and turn over my shoulder, greeted with a handsome face. Too handsome… curse these high fae. He’s got rippling muscles as he crosses his arms over his chest, eyes a vibrant, ashy caramel. And his hair… “I’m looking for Yn?”

What does he want? “Is there something I can help you with?”

“For once, my brother wasn’t reserved in his descriptions.”

What? His brother? I stare at the male, taking in his sharp nose, those eyes like fire, his hair… oh Gods-

“I’m Lucien’s brother, Eris.”

I stay silent, taking in his face. Fuck, there is a lot of Lucien there. More than I’d like to see. They have the same eyes and hair. And it hurts to see so much of him in someone else.

“Now, I don’t particularly care that much about who you are-” 

Charming. 

“-but I do know you made my brother happy. At one point or another. I also don’t care what happened between the two of you, but it must’ve been bad.”

“Leave.”

“Whether or not you talk to my sorry bastard brother means nothing to me. But if I have to deal with one more Court meeting where Rhys and his brute ask me if I’ve talked to him, I will rip off my own ears.”

“I asked you to leave my restaurant.”

“Is this how you treat all your customers?”

I narrowed my eyes, “You are not a customer, you haven’t ordered anything. So have a good day, Eris.”

“I’ll take a pint of ale,” he smirks. Smirks, like I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to him babble about how much he wants me to talk to Lucien. 

With a viscous yank, I pull off the glass I just put away and fix it under the tap. I debate spitting in it. That most certainly would not end well for me or my restaurant. I’ve already had one Vanserra ruin my life, I don’t need another to ruin the only hope I have left.

I slap the glass down in front of him, turning around to finish unloading the clean dishes from the drying racks. 

“So,” he slurps his drink, “when are you going to fix your shit with Lucien?”

“I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because he hasn’t earned my forgiveness.”

“What would it take?”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t forgive him.” Can he stop asking me so many fucking questions? I just want to clean up, shut down the kitchen, hand out todays tips and go the fuck home. 

“Why?”

My hands came down on the steel counter, rattling plates and saucers. “Why are you so fucking concerned with something that isn’t your problem?”

He goes quiet for a second, and I’m blessed with a moment of peace from his irritating voice. “Because, despite being nothing but a pain in my ass, he’s still my brother. And he’s miserable. And you’re the reason why.”

“No,” I snapped, ready to hurl a glass at his thick fucking skull. “He’s the reason he’s miserable. He did all the damage on his own. All I did was ask him to be there for me, and he threw me aside like a stray cat begging for a warm meal.”

“What did he do?”

“It’s none of your business, Eris. Go away, the bar is closing.”

“I still have a tab open.”

“Then come back tomorrow and pay it.”

“But I’ll be away.”

“Then it’s on the house,” I sighed, too exhausted to deal with this. “Just go. Please.”

“As soon as you tell me what he did I’ll-”

“He fucking ruined me, thats what he did.” Thank god the restaurant was empty or else the whole city would know that I’ve been completely shattered by Lucien Vanserra. Who am I kidding, I’m sure everyone already does. “All I asked was that he be there for me the day I opened my restaurant.”

Eris puts his palms up, “well? Where was he?”

“Where do you think?” The glare I sent him made him back off. 

“Oh…”

I scoff, “yeah, oh. I gave up everything for him. My family, my home, my life to restore him after he fled to the Spring Court. I just wanted his support. And he was busy with a female who would rather be tortured than in his presence.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to blame Elain for-”

“I wasn’t blaming Elain,” I corrected. “Lucien let me down. Unforgivably. That's the end of it. I don’t want an apology from him, it won’t do anything for me.”

Eris let out a long sigh. “Look, I understand that he hurt you. I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings. He fucked up. Point blank. He’ll never be able to take back what he did and said. But is there any way that the two of you may be able to move on?”

“Move on?” I scoffed, a cruel laugh escaping me. “Move on? Eris, I confessed to him that I am his mate, and he told me I was selfish because I wasn’t happy about him and Elain.”

“Were you?”

“Of course I was,” I ran my palms over my face. “Did it hurt knowing he’d never look at me like that? Yes, but I was prepared to live with it if it meant that he got to live a happy, fulfilled life. I didn’t care who it was, it was the fact that he forgot all about me. On more than one occasion. Menu designs, recipe tastings, wine tastings… all of it. He missed all of it to go be with her.”

“So you’re jealous?”

It took everything inside me to not rear up and smack him across the face. Who does this asshole think he is? Instead of possibly earning myself more trouble, I take his glass of ale off the counter, dump it, and rinse the glass. 

“I wasn’t done with-”

“Well, you’re done now. Thank you for dining with Latibule, but the restaurant is officially closed. See yourself out.”

Eris clicks his tongue, pushing off the bar. The rustling of his clothes chafes together as he walks away. “Lucien cares about you, Yn. From the very few mentions of you he’s shared, I can tell he thinks highly of you, no matter what you may think.”

Then the door snaps closed, and I’m left with nothing but a pulse in my ear and tears in my eyes.

____

After a quick mop in the kitchen I shut off all the lights and lock the front door. As I’m walking down the street, a thick, crackling scent hits me. And my stomach churns. It’s familiar, part of it still lingering in my house. But this one is more… just more.

“Eris, leave me alone.”

“I did a lap around the block, and I was thinking-”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad.”

Eris chuckles, then laughs. “Feisty, I can see why Lucien would like you. Just give him a chance.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why are you Autumn Court fae so fucking dense?”

“Just be thankful it was me and not my father who came to see you, then you’d really see dense.”

“Please,” I rolled my eyes. “If I ever came face to face with that bastard I’d do a lot more than hurl words at him. I’m not particularly fond of you either, so be careful how you speak to me.”

“What if I arranged a meeting for the both of you? To talk things out and see if there is any common ground to be found,” Eris suggested, falling in stride with me as I walked up the path, back towards home. 

“Gonna pass on that one. If I wanted to ‘arrange a meeting’, I would’ve already done it. I don’t need Lucien's big, scary older brother to do it for me,” I mocked. 

“You think I’m scary?” He smiled.

“I think you’re annoying and disrespectful.”

“A lot of the High Lords of Prythian would agree, try not to be so original.”

Don’t rip out his eyes, don’t rip out his eyes. He’s just trying to get under your skin, don’t let him win.

“Come to think of it, there is one High Lord in particular who seems to agree with this idea of trying to get you and Lucien back together.”

“If you even think about dragging Rhysand into this-”

“He approached me,” Eris admits. “He’s sick of Lucien moping around the Town House all the time.”

“Then tell him my advice is to kick him out,” I bit out, more than tired of this conversation. “And stop following me, Eris. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

“But I have to make sure you get home safe, Lucien would have my head if something happened to you,” Eris reasons, knocking his shoulder into mine. 

“Is there an imminent threat against my life, Eris Vanserra?”

“No?” 

“Then there is no need for you to walk me home.”

“But if there was an imminent threat, I would be able to protect you,” Eris smiled, and curse me… it’s a nice smile. I glare up at him, but he just smirks back. 

I decided to seal my lips. If I don’t respond, he can’t get any more information out of me. 

“Just think about this for a minute: if you decide to have a conversation, one of two things is going to happen. You’re either going to confirm everything you already know; he’s an uncaring, forgetful bastard who doesn’t give a shit about you or the lives you two have built together. Or, you’re going to realize the exact opposite; that he does care, and it was all a misunderstanding. And that he does care about the life the two of you have built together.”

I can’t be bothered to care about what he wants anymore. I’ve spent too much of my life caring for his every waking need. When is it my turn?

“You are his mate, Yn. It goes against every instinct in your body to reject him. Why do you keep fighting yourself on what your heart wants?”

Because he betrayed me. He completely broke my trust, ruined my image of him in one night. Why does no one understand that? 

“I get it, he hurt you or whatever, but are you really going to risk the chance of eternity together with him because of one mistake?”

He and Ms. Immy would get along well. And it wasn’t just one fucking mistake, it was about seventeen. Apologies don’t mean a thing if you don’t ever fix what you did wrong. I can see my house, just a few hundred yards away. I can slam the door in his fucking face and spend the rest of my night doing anything but thinking about Lucien. 

“Yn, just answer me,” Eris demands. “I know there isn’t anyone you’ve talked to.”

“No you don’t.”

“Have you talked with anyone about this?” I stay quiet. “Exactly, you need to release this. To scream and shout and yell-”

“I’ve tried that. Didn’t do anything for me.”

“Have you punched anything? I like doing that when I’m mad,” Eris snickered. 

I just rolled my eyes. “I’m about to punch something soon.” He takes a step back as I finally reach my door. I unlock it and push it open, kicking off my boots at the door. I have no reason to be bitter to Eris. he’s just trying to help, trying to be there for his brother. Now, whether or not he’s doing it in the best way is certainly debatable. But at least he’s trying. I sigh, feeling incredibly defeated. “Would you like a drink?”

His smile is softer, and he gives a nod, following me inside. 

As I make us a drink, he looks around the kitchen and the living room. 

“Gods it looks just like the Autumn Court in here,” he chuckles, picking up a pillow from one of the chairs. 

“Yeah, Lucien did most of the decorating.”

“It’s gotta be difficult to see it every day.”

I bite back a sob, “You have no idea.”

“I know I am not the easiest person to get along with, or the most…tender, but if you are hurting this bad, then I know Luc must’ve been special to you. And you special to him. So, if there is anything I can do, tell me.”

As I slid the glass across the counter, I stared at my hands. Would talking about this really make a difference? I just feel like it keeps opening up old wounds without giving them the time to heal. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on.”

Eris looks at me, thick brows knitted together. “Because you miss him?”

As much as it hurts to admit, I nod. “So fucking much, Eris.”

“Now, do you miss him, or just having someone to share a space with?”

I blink up to meet his eyes, the ashy-caramel irises full of so much life. “I miss him. I don’t know when he started distancing from me, but I clearly didn’t notice it quick enough. I started to miss his smile first. He stopped laughing for a while after he met Elain. The creases between his eyes replaced those around his mouth.”

“Yn-”

“He started being late to everything next. He would apologize but… they weren’t sincere. I tried not to be hurt by it but… I don’t know. I thought maybe it had to do with stuff happening from the Spring Court and with Tamlin. Doesn’t matter, it just kept getting worse. He’d only talk about Elain, ask for advice on what to do since ‘I was a female’.”

“Oh Lucien…” Eris rubs his eyes. “Even for him that's low.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I didn’t snap earlier. Part of me wanted to hold onto something I knew I couldn’t have. Then came the grand opening and once he was late for that?” I shook my head, biting my lips so as to not sob in front of Eris. “Nothing he could’ve done would’ve made up for that.”

I don’t know why I’m opening up to Eris. He’s probably just going to relay it word for word back to Lucien. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. 

“None of what he did is excusable,” Eris says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. He wanted to spend time with his mate. He just wanted her to know that someone was there for her. But did he do it the right way? Absolutely not. And he fucked up, really bad.”

“Can I give you something?”

Eris just stared blankly at me. “What?”

“Just stay here for a moment,” I set my glass down, charging up the stairs. It’s been burning a hole in the bottom of my closet since I found it a few weeks ago. The lump of midnight blue fabric was a crumpled mess, but his scent still lingered on it. 

I held it up to my nose. Inhaling deep. It’s time to let go. 

As I stand in front of Eris, I hold out the shirt. My throat is like liquid iron. “Give this back to him, will you? It was one of his favorites.”

This shirt… this god damned shirt. It always looked so good on him. With the color of his skin and the tone of his hair. All the jewel tones made him look marvelous, but there was something about the teal color. Tears slid onto my cheeks. The first night he wore this shirt was when Rhysand and Cassian took him out to dinner. “To try and get to know me better,” Lucien said. He thought they were going to interrogate him. But he wore this shirt with dark blue pants and black leather boots. His hair was braided away from his face… I braided it back away from his face. 

Eris’s hand on my cheek pulls me out of the memory and into his eyes. “Did you keep this, knowing it was his favorite, hoping one day he’d come back looking for it?”

The fact that he figured it out so easily made my blood run cold. I tried to answer, but the sound of the door creaking open made me forget what I was going to say.

My heart dropped.

Eris’s hand was frozen on my cheek.

Lucien dead still in the doorway. What is he doing here?

Eris clears his throat, taking the warmth of his hand as he drops it to his side. “Brother, perfect timing.” Perfect timing? Did he- “No, I didn’t plan this, Yn. Though I respect you for thinking me so clever.” Eris turned me, blocking my view of Lucien. He folded the wrinkled shirt in my palms. “This is your chance.”

And then he left. He slipped around Lucien with a subtle glare and shut the door behind him. 

Lucien looks… he looks so…

“I thought you would be at the restaurant,” he spoke, voice low and cool. “I can came back-”

“What did you want?” I asked, curious as to why he’d be back here ever again. 

“Actually I wanted um… I came here for that shirt.”

Oh. Oh. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Yeah, yeah, take it. I found it doing laundry a bit ago.”

Lucien crosses the threshold of the room and takes it from me. I’m waiting for him to ask me about Eris. To ask about how I’ve been. Or to apologize. Gods Luc, please say something.

“I see you met my brother. What did he want?” 

Here we go. “He walked me home from Latibule.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Well, I hope he wasn’t too much of a pain.”

I snicker, but refrain from further details. “You look well.”

He did, he looked healthy. His arms and chest fill out his shirt in a way they never used to.

“I’ve been training with Cassian for a while,” he explained. That’ll do it, I guess.

“Sounds exhausting.”

He gives a faint chuckle, “It’s interesting.”

Then we just look at each other. My heart swells, and crashes down. My fingers and toes go numb and my head feels lighter. I want him to stop looking at me so intently, yet I don’t want him to leave. Ever again. I want him to stay here and build a home with me. A new home with new memories and new adventures. But the logical part of me knows it’ll never quite be the same. 

“Why was Eris here?”

“I told you he walked me home from Latibule.” He gave me a look that screamed ‘I’m not buying that shit’. I must have no resolve because I caved instantly. “He came and found me to talk about you.”

I’ve never seen Lucien look so worried in my seventy years of knowing him. “Why?”

“He wanted to know if I’d ever forgive you. Apparently he’s tired of dealing with Rhysand begging him to talk to you so he came to me.”

“Yn,” Lucien’s eyes sulk, “If I had known Eris would’ve found you I would've just talked to him. I just wanted him gone and away from me. I didn’t mean to drag you further into this.”

“It’s fine, he only mildly insulted me. I see where you get it from.” It was a low blow, but seeing him wince made me feel a bit better. It was petty. But cathartic. 

Silence stretched between us. Wrapping around me like a pit viper after delivering a lethal dose of venom to its prey. It constricted and constricted and constricted-

“I love you.”

I almost looked around the room to see if someone else spoke. But it was his mouth that moved, and it was his voice that sang. 

“What?”

“I love you, Yn.”

“No-”

“I love you,” he gasps, tears filling his eyes. “I-I… I am so in love with you.”

“Lucien stop,” I beg, that numbness spreading up my arms and calves. 

“I am so so fucking sorry for the way I treated you. You are so undeserving of that after all that you did for me. I was selfish and blinded by what I thought I wanted. You were right, Yn. About everything. I never once considered that it could be you because I just always knew you’d be in my life. I never thought that I’d lose you but when I did I… I broke. I can’t live without you. I need you. I love you.”

“You don’t get to decide that you want me and then waltz back into my life. That is not how this works.”

“Please Yn just give me a chance to apologize and make things right.”

“No,” I shouted, anger leaching into my tone. “No, I gave you one too many chances I think. I have given you too much, Lucien. More than enough for one lifetime and you're just now realizing that you want me back? ”

“I’ve always known I’ve loved you Yn. I just didn't understand how much. Or in what way. And I know that’s my fault and my problem. In some way I was cursed by the cauldron to have two mates. But it blessed me with one who cared enough about me to take my broken spirit and make it whole again.”

“Good luck finding someone to do it again because it will not be me this time.” I crossed my arms over my chest, turning away from him. 

“Yn please just- just let me speak. I truly didn’t mean to hurt you. I got so caught up in the fact that I finally had a choice in this world that I forgot to think about everything else in my life. I never meant for you to feel anything but loved and appreciated.”

“Lucien, you somehow managed to achieve everything you meant not to do.”

A sob tore through Lucien. And one tore through me too. “You never gave up on me, not once. From day one you have always believed in me, what happened? What changed?”

“You’re complete and utter recognition of my existence changed, Lucien!” I screamed, not caring who heard me. “Ever since the war ended you haven’t paid me the closest bit of real, undivided attention. You only spoke to me if it was about Elain, what dinner was going to be, or if I had gotten the next project done on the restaurant. But not once did you ask me how I was doing or if I wanted to go out for a fun night. I just faded away into the back of your mind.”

My blood curled against my bone while I waited for a response. He stared at the floor, eyes darting around and around.

“I’m so so so sorry, Yn.”

“I’m sure you are.” More empty apologies

“How do I fix this? Tell me what to do. I’ll do fucking anything you want just tell me- please Yn I can’t leave here without saying I gave us every chance we had-”

“And I told you I gave you one too many chances to apologize.”

I refuse to be walked all over. I refuse to be second place. I refuse to be treated as anything but a first priority. My heart is too big sometimes, and I’ve been known to forgive under less likely circumstances, but this is where I draw the line. 

Lucien gets down on his knees. “Please, my Yn. I have nothing without you. You are entwined in every corner and crevice of my soul. I know I’m undeserving of you. But somewhere deep down I think you still love me. Even if you hate me right now, and I do not blame you. I have been an awful person-”

“Lucien please don’t-” my throat feels like it’s swelling closed.

“-but I cannot see a future without you in it. If I don’t have you by my side, then all of this is useless. All these heartbeats, all these breaths of oxygen are worthless without you giving me a reason to have them.”

I try to get a grip on the world spinning around me, but it’s of no use. “Lucien get up.”

“No,” he shakes his head, pieces of his hair falling loose to frame his face. In times like these I would once comfort him. Place my hands on his cheeks and tell him how worthy he is of love and protection. And here he is, trying to do the same for me. “No, I need you to listen to me.”

“I don’t wanna hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t care. I have to tell you otherwise I might burn alive. I have never regretted a day more in my life than that night a month and a half ago. It haunts my every waking nightmare. On repeat, every night for me to relive and beat myself up over. I deserve every second of it. You’re right, I did discard you to the side like you were nothing. And I sweat my life on the Cauldron that I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know I was doing it until you pointed it out to me. Then I just… I fell apart.

“I had no idea what to do, where to go. Ask anyone, for weeks I was unable to get out of bed after I came and got my stuff from here. The only person I talked to was Ms. Immy. Even she knew about it. She told me to respect your wishes, to not neglect them like I had neglected you in the past and I might have hope. So as hard as it was, I stayed away. Because I didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Ms. Immy told me it wasn’t my fault that I neglected you- well… it was, but- but it was now my problem. To try and fix it. And she’s right, you’re right. Fucking everyone is right. I just want to fix this with you.”

It’s not your fault, but it is your problem. Damn that wise hag. 

My muscles are so taught they begin to ache. I can’t handle this, I don’t want to handle this. I want him gone- no… no I want him to stay and tell me how much he’s fucked up. To validate me because he spent so much time doing the opposite. 

“What if I don’t want you to fix things?” I asked. “What if I wanted you to leave and never come back?”

“That’s not an option. Being out of your life has never been an option. I want you more than anything I could think of. I am going to fix this between us one way or another, today, tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. But I will never stop trying because I love you.”

“Don’t say that,” I plead, turning away from him. His hand wrapped around my forearm, locking me in place. “Let go of me. Now.” 

“Not until you give me a legit reason why we cannot fix what we have. Yn, you have given your entire life to me. Let me return all those years back to you.”

“I don’t want you t-”

“You don’t have to forgive me today, but let me try to make it up to you. My Spirit of the Gods, who cares so much more about the lives of others than her own. Let me be the one who cares about you. Let me bear the weight of your burdens.”

“Lucine stop talking.”

“No,” he roared, shaking his head. “I need you to understand that I won’t stop trying to fix things with you no matter how much you hate me. I love you too much to let you slip through my fingers. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I blew off the most important night of your life. Through everything, you were there for me, and I didn’t return the favor when it mattered most. You worked so fucking hard on Latibue, Yn. And I am so unbelievably proud of you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you.”

“For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, shut up.”

“Why are you refusing to listen to anything I have to say?”

“Because if you say one more Gods damned thing about how much you love me and how fucking sorry you are, I might just forgive you and I am not ready to forgive you because I am still livid with you!” The confession tears from my lungs. I heave for a breath, carefully watching Lucien. “I’m not ready to be comforted by someone who hurt me so badly.”

“Then I’ll give you time,” Lucien’s eyes soften as he stands. “I can live with you being angry at me, but I can’t live without you at all.”

“I can’t possibly know how long that’ll take.”

“I don’t care how long it’ll take,” he shrugs. “I’ll wait until our souls pass again if I have to.”

My mind is too cluttered. My heart in too many shards. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I know you will,” he smiles. Oh how I’ve missed his smile. His smile. “But that doesn’t mean you need to be.”

He wants to fix things, he was begging on his knees for you to listen to him. He’s okay with you being angry at him as long as you give him a chance. He loves you. He loves you back. After all these years, everything you’ve been waiting for… it’s right in front of you. Even if it hurts, even if you’re scared it is better to do it afraid then not at all.

I broke down into tears, my chest wracked with sobs. All this locked up pain and indignation exploding out at once. And Lucien is right there to keep me from falling. “Shh, Yn it’s okay,” he purrs, holding me so tight I can’t breathe. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I have spent so long loving this boy, begging him silently to love me back. And here he is… why can’t I find the space inside me to let him in?

“Lucien…”

“My Yn,” he breathes, cradling my head to his chest. 

I take a deep breath. “I love you.”

I feel his body relax.

“And I think you should leave.”

His body goes rigid. He pulls away, hands reaching to cup my face, but settling on the backs of my arms. “W-What? Why do you-”

“If you spent all this time waiting for it to be the right moment to make peace with me but never taking the opportunity then it’s too late.”

“Yn please- this is me taking the opportunity.”

“No,” I shake my head, sniffling. “This was just a coincidence. You didn't come here with the intention of making amends. You came here just to get a shirt. So here,” I picked up the shirt, shoving it in his chest. “Take it. And go.”

“Wait-” I began to push him to the door. “Yn wait! Yes I came here to get my shirt. No, I didn’t think you’d be here. But you were. So I took a chance. I took a risk for you.”

“Do you really think I’m so naive?” I scoffed, opening the door and shoving him through, rougher than I intended. “If you want me, then you’re going to have to do a lot better than getting down on your knees and saying you love me.”

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, anything.”

“If you need me to tell you, then there’s no hope for us.”

He stares at me, eyes begging, pleading, hoping and praying that I’ll just tell him. Despite the slight sweat on my skin, my body feels calm. Powerful. I feel in control. 

Then his lips are on mine, and any sense of reality I have comes crashing down. 

[chahnniesroom]

tenderness | chapter 10: and a time to heal

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 3k

chapter warnings: lots of emotions happening

a/n: this chapter wraps up most of tenderness! i can't believe all that's left to post is bonus scene 3 and the epilogue :") thank you everyone for your support!!

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

With Y/n settled at home, Chan is no longer allowed to avoid schedules anymore. In fact, it's almost the opposite since they've been forced to cram everything into the couple of weeks that they have left until they leave for the next leg of their tour. A few interviews were done without him and some schedules for individual members were pushed forward, but a significant portion of the promotions for their next album and partnerships with companies were just postponed.

JYPE never pressured Chan while he stayed with Y/n in the hospital, in fact they had been extremely supportive throughout this whole experience, but now there’s an unspoken expectation for business as usual. The first day back to work is the hardest, that’s no surprise, but he thought it’d get a lot easier, that he wouldn’t think of her every other second.

Although he hasn't mentioned anything, ever since Y/n has been back from the hospital, he's been suffering from some sort of separation anxiety. It takes the form of a low thrum of discomfort after he's been away from her for a while, the constant need to check his phone for texts or calls, and a feeling of restlessness as they get closer and closer to finishing schedules and going home. He's never spent so much time away from the studio without feeling guilty before. He’d like to attribute it to the soulmate bond, but he knows it’s more than that.

Chan just… misses her. Misses her warm smile, how she melts into him when he cards his fingers through her silky smooth hair, the soft press of her cheek against his shoulder when she falls asleep sitting beside him.

The only problem is that Chan still hasn’t talked to Y/n, hasn’t cleared things up, hasn’t confessed. There is still a tension that hangs in the air when they’re together and Chan knows he needs to. He knows. He just doesn’t know how to address it all. When it seems like the chasm between how he feels and how she thinks he feels is so large. He’s scared of messing it up and somehow making things even worse than they are now.

When he’s away, he is able to think up all these sorts of ways of opening up, but the second he sees Y/n, it’s like he can’t speak. It makes it even harder to be away from home.

Today is no different. Everyone is excited to eat and get changed, but Chan cannot wait to see Y/n again. They’re lucky that a schedule ending early gives them enough time to make it back to the dorms just before lunch because they were previously planning on eating on the go. The members crowd into the elevator and chatter away about what they're going to have for lunch. At the door, Minho spins around and hisses for everyone to be quiet before punching in the code. They want it to be a surprise visit, but don’t want to risk waking Y/n if she happens to be sleeping.

It's silent when the door opens, all the lights off, but the blinds are open to let sunlight through. Chan is the first to kick off his shoes and he beelines to his room, twisting the doorknob carefully to peek in. It's not completely dark, but enough that Chan has to squint and wait for his eyes to adjust before he realises the bed is empty and the covers neatly folded. He flicks on the light and can't stop his pulse from speeding up as he sees Y/n’s not around. When he steps back into the hallway, Changbin is right about to go into his room, but pauses.

"Is she still napping?" he whispers.

"No," Chan says, starting to feel unsteady. "She's not there. Is she in the-"

They both hear the shower turn on and the steady hum of the fan to prevent moisture from building up.

"That's Jisung," Changbin says slowly. They both know there is no way he would shower if Y/n was in there with him.

Together they walk to the kitchen, trying not to rush but failing. They startle Minho who is pulling out ingredients from the fridge.

"Where's the fire?" he jokes. "The food won't be ready for a while."

"You haven't seen Y/n?" Chan demands, even though he already knows the answer. The apartment isn't that big and they've covered half of it already. It is possible that Y/n is hiding out in Jisung or Hyunjin’s room, but Chan can’t think of a single reason why she would be. Suddenly feeling too hot and a bit claustrophobic, Chan has to tug off his hoodie and hat.

“No, I thought she was resting?” Minho drops what he’s holding onto the counter and leads Chan and Changbin in a quick search through the rest of the rooms, confirming that Y/n is nowhere to be seen. Along the way, the trio piques the attention of the rest of the members, including Jisung who is still showering and had screamed loudly when they swung the bathroom door open. They all crowd in the living room, and Chan finally remembers to try calling Y/n’s phone.

They wait with baited breath as Chan punches Y/n’s number in and it’s telling how stressed Chan must look when nobody teases him for how shaky his fingers are. The call has just begun to ring when they hear the corresponding chime of Y/n’s ringtone from somewhere in the room. They watch, dismayed, as Felix fishes her phone out from the corner of one of the couches.

Chan wants to throw up.

Something must show on his face because Seungmin takes hold of his shoulders and guides him to sit down.

“Hey, hey look at me.” Seungmin snaps his fingers and Chan jerks away. “Deep breaths. We’re going to find her. You can either stay here or come with me to the company.”

“I’ll go with you. I think I’ll go crazy if I’m stuck here waiting,” he admits. 

“Okay. We’ll go together. Where else do you think she could be?” Seungmin prompts him.

“Uhm.” Chan can’t think, or rather, he’s thinking too much to focus. He keeps spiralling, mind creating stories of Y/n collapsed on a sidewalk or a sasaeng making it into the building and somehow finding her.

“I’ll go with Hyunjin and check the nearby cafes and convenience stores,” Felix offers. “It’s lunchtime, she could have gone out to get some food.”

“Jisung and I can stay here. We’ll prepare lunch and let you know if she comes back,” Minho says.

“Do you think Changbin-hyung and I should go to the company too?” Jeongin asks. “The two of us can go through the building so that Seungmin-hyung and Chan-hyung can stay in the studio.”

Although he’s having a hard time contributing to the conversation, Chan doesn’t miss all the glances that are being sent his way. He wants to reassure everyone that they don’t have to take care of him, that they should focus on finding Y/n, but he’s comforted by the efficient way that Seungmin is leading the group and knows he doesn’t have the capacity to be included in the search.

“Okay. So Felix, Hyunjin look around the neighbourhood. Minho-hyung and Jisung stay here. Chan-hyung, Changbin-hyung, Jeongin, and I will go to the company,” Seungmin confirms. Everyone nods and grabs their things to leave. Minho heads back to the kitchen, but not before reminding each pair to bring masks and hats.

—

Once they arrive at the company, Seungmin immediately steers Chan towards his studio and sits him down in his chair, settling in front of him on the couch. Changbin and Jeongin have split up to search the building and Chan assumes that Seungmin is tasked with making sure that Chan doesn’t continue getting lost in a death spiral of thoughts. Judging from the concerned looks that he’s getting, even by random staff in the hallway, Chan’s not doing a good job of hiding his feelings.

"What's going on?" Seungmin says, head tilted slightly as he studies Chan. "I get it, you're worried, but there must be something else. You usually wouldn't freak out this much so quickly, hyung."

“What?” Chan laughs unconvincingly. “Nothing’s wrong. Other than the obvious fact that my soulmate was seriously injured and it’s my fault and now nobody knows where she is.”

In response, Seungmin just stares at Chan, who avoids his gaze. He’s always been one of the most perceptive members, even if he doesn’t always step in to interfere, and it’s clear that he sees right through Chan.

“Hyung, I know this isn’t just about not being able to find Y/n. You’ve been on edge since the hospital. In the beginning, it was understandable, but Y/n’s fine, the doctors said there was nothing to worry about, right?” Seungmin says after a moment.

“Right.”

“But you’ve been getting worse. There’s something more to it.”

“You’ve always been so smart, Seungminnie,” Chan sighs.

“Hyung,” Seungmin prompts him after he doesn’t continue.

“I said some things I didn’t mean. It hurt her and I didn’t know.” Chan shakes his head. “Or maybe I did know but I told myself that it was fine. I don’t even know why I said it, it just came out on its own. I was stressed, I was tired, but it isn’t an excuse. I feel like I’ve messed things up so much. I apologised the next day and she said that it was okay but it’s not. I think she actually believed the things that I said. I want to make things right, but I don’t know what I can do that would fix it.”

“It’s easy, hyung,” Seungmin says simply.

“Well, what should I do?”

“Just tell her. Tell her how you feel. Clear things up. Help her understand.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door and then Y/n peeks her head in, bringing the conversation to an end. Seeing the pair, she pushes the door open fully and steps inside. Relief crashes into Chan and he’s glad he’s already sitting because his legs feel weak.

 Seungmin takes that as a cue. He pats Chan on the shoulder encouragingly as he passes and slips out the door.

“What’s up? All Changbin said is that you were looking for me. Is something wrong?” Y/n asks, concerned.

“Y/n! What were you thinking?” All of Chan’s worry, stress, and fear bubble up, escaping as anger. He wasn’t expecting to yell, but it just comes out on its own. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

He doesn’t register that he has stood up until he’s close enough that Y/n shifts, taking a step away. Ignoring the way that she stiffens, he grabs her shoulder and pulls her into his arms, leaning down to put his head on her shoulder. He immediately relaxes once he’s holding her and can feel the reassuring warmth of the Charge, anger rushing out of him as fast as it had come on.

“I was working,” she says, twisting slightly in an attempt to get away. Chan allows her to move back only so that he can cup her cheeks and smooths his hands down her arms, checking that she’s unharmed.

“Working- Y/n.” Chan wraps himself back around her, making sure to be careful of her still healing wound. He can’t stop his distress from leaking into his voice. “Don’t you know it’s not safe to be out yet? Your pictures, we couldn’t get all of them taken down. People know what you look like. And you should be resting.”

“I have a job, Chan-oppa. I can’t just not work. I've used up all my sick days already and there’s a lot that I’m not able to do from home. It’s okay, I wore a mask and was careful when I was taking the bus here.” She rests her hand on the top of Chan’s head reassuringly. There’s the tiniest bit of relief that he feels hearing that she’s dropped the formalities again, although it doesn’t ease the twisting of his stomach and the dread he feels thinking of her out in public.

“Don’t take the bus!” Chan says, sounding frantic. “Don’t walk! Don’t leave the dorms without someone else! Y/n, you know we’ve had problems with sasaengs knowing where we live or waiting outside the company. What if someone was there? What if they hurt you again?” The because of me is left unsaid, but they both know what he means. 

“Hey, hey.” Y/n combs through his hair soothingly, probably recognising now how serious this is for him. She tilts Chan’s face up to look at her and her eyes widen slightly. It’s only when her hands come up to cup his cheeks and her fingers gently swipe under his eyes that Chan realises he’s crying. He immediately tucks his face back into her neck, embarrassed. “It’s okay. I made it. I’m safe and you’re safe. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just stop and breathe with me for a second, okay?”

Chan doesn’t want to stop and breathe. He’s too busy thinking of how he felt on the car ride to the hospital, helpless to do anything except scroll endlessly through all the postings of people who had actually been there while he had been unaware of what had happened. He’s thinking of the conversation he overheard where Y/n had expressed her insecurities to Eunsung. He’s thinking of the lecture from Eunsung. He’s thinking of the warning he received from the doctor right before Y/n was released.

Suddenly, he can’t stand another moment without telling her how he feels. 

“You know I care about you, right?” Chan blurts out. Judging by the way that Y/n stills, hand frozen in his hair, she’s just as surprised to hear this as he is. When he doesn’t continue, she lets out an unconvincing huff of laughter.

“Yes, I know,” she says placatingly. Chan can tell she doesn’t quite believe him. He pulls back so that he is facing her fully.

“There are a lot of people that care about you,” Chan continues insistently. “Do you understand? I- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you. I can’t bear it, the thought of you getting hurt again.” 

“Oppa, you don’t have to say this just because you think I want to hear it," she says, looking away. Now it’s Chan’s turn to reach up and cup Y/n’s face between his hands. They’re so close that he can see the moisture that’s starting to gather in her eyes. 

“I was out of my mind, not knowing where you were. The boys were worried too. Did you think that nobody cares what happens to you? We care- I care. A lot.”

“Channie-oppa,” Y/n says softly, “I know-”

“I’m sorry,” Chan interrupts. “I’m so sorry, I know that I messed up in more ways than one. I know that I hurt you. I- It’s tearing me up inside and I know that there’s nothing I can do to make up for the pain that I caused but I want to try. I really really lo- I really care about you.”

“I know you care,” Y/n repeats. They both ignore the word that Chan almost said. “Of course I do. You don’t have to say it because I see it in all the little things that you do. The way you introduced me to your family, how you always want to defend me from mine. When you carry me to bed after I fall asleep and make sure to do recordings or livestreams in other members’ rooms so that it doesn’t bother me. I know that you text me more than any other person you know. It’s just hard, sometimes. It feels surreal to be on the receiving end of so much… care. I don’t know what to do with it all.”

“If it’s ever too much, then let me know. But I will always always be here to remind you that you’re cared for. And that you’re worthy and deserving of that care. You make my life better, Y/n. You always have. I should have made that more obvious.”

“I-” Y/n reaches up to wipe away a tear that is slowly making its way down her cheek and laughs a little. “This is getting to be a bad habit, why am I always crying in here?”

Chan knows that Y/n is making a joke, but the truth behind her statement prevents him from laughing along. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You don’t have to keep apologising-”

“It’s not the studio that’s making you cry, Y/n. We both know it. It’s me.”

“Oppa, please don’t beat yourself up too much. This time is different anyway, these are happy tears and look- you’re crying too, that must mean it balances things out right? So I just have to make you cry one more time and then we’ll be even.” 

This time her comment works and Chan can’t stop a huff of laughter from escaping.

“There we go,” Y/n says, voice full of affection. “No more crying okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know this is going to be difficult. It-” Y/n pauses to take a deep breath. “It still hurts, I won’t lie. But this relationship, it requires effort from both of us and we’re both willing to put in the work. We can fix it together.”

Together.

Chan thinks that he can get used to the sound of that.

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[brabblesblog]

Crimson Eyes

Part 4 of the Goodnight Moon Series!

What happened after the camp party between you and Astarion moves things in an unexpected but complicated direction.

Read on AO3.

Part 3

Part 5

Masterlist.

You wake up to an empty bedroll beside yours. The first thing you did when you first stirred was to reach out, to try to find cold arms to snuggle into. It wasn’t there, and you rub your eyes and then open them. Of course he wouldn’t be there. Why did you even expect it? Then there was the sensation of being very warm. You realize you have blankets on. You quietly thank yourself for having enough awareness to pull the blankets over you before you passed out last night.

Or did you?

Last night had been one of the best nights you’ve had since being taken on the nautiloid. The tiefings had come to party, and for once everyone was just mingling and enjoying themselves. You had spotted Astarion early on, eyes tracking you as you moved around the camp. You suspected what he was going to say - those glances told you everything - but you stayed away. After all you still weren’t sure what you two were, or how he even felt about you.

You end up sitting with Wyll for a bit when the party starts to overwhelm you. He’s good conversation, and he definitely needed the comfort of your company and your reassurances that people would still see the person that he is, no matter his looks.

“Something on your mind?” He asks, lifting his goblet to his lips. “Astarion?”

You let out a long suffering sigh and shrug. “I suppose Gale told you?”

“No. I could tell from watching you and him. You… you look at him as if he was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever beheld.”

You nod, hands fidgeting on the neck of your goblet. “I know I shouldn’t. I feel ensnared by his- his everything, but I don’t know what to make of his feelings towards me.”

“Have you two talked about it?”

“Gods, no. We talk, about everything and nothing. And he tries to- you know,” you gesture with your hands, and Wyll nods, “but the one time it happened it was like he wasn’t even there. Either I’m a bad lover or there’s something more to it. I have my guesses,” you admit, “but none of it is good.”

Wyll inclines his head in understanding. “For some, feelings are.. a difficult subject to broach. I don’t pretend to know how Astarion feels, but it would not hurt to ask, no?”

You shake your head. “I do not know if I’m ready for that, Wyll. As much as I try to be wary, my feelings are… well. I just don’t want to find out just yet. By all means the truth isn’t what I wish it to be. But one day, I will, I am sure.”

Wyll reaches out and squeezes your hand in solidarity. The two of you stay together longer in silence, just drinking and enjoying a moment of peace, then you finally bid him goodnight and head off.

As soon as you’re near the campfire you feel those crimson eyes again, raking all over your body. Liquid courage flowing through your veins, you finally grit your teeth and approach the smirking vampire.

You had been powerless to resist. He had thrown all of his lines at you, flirted his way to you, weakening your defenses. When he said those three words, you wished it were true. When the party wound down and you came to his bed, it had felt like the right thing to do. He had said all the right things, did all the right moves, but just like the first time, there was something wrong.

“Astarion?” You say after he had finished. You laid underneath him in bliss, but the glow was slowly fading and you were coming back to your senses.

“Yes, darling?” He was still breathless, but he seemed to be avoiding meeting your eyes.

“Would you mind if.. can you hold me tonight?”

He lays down beside you, arm thrown over his eyes so you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. “Of course,” he says. He then pulls you to him, and you go willingly, draping yourself over his torso. You set your head over his heart, where if it were a mortal lover you would hear it beating.

You sigh and melt against him, letting exhaustion take you. He puts one arm over you, but it’s not as relaxed as it could be, you think. In fact, you realize he’s quite stiffly holding you, as though he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Your body tries its best to meld around his, but he is rigid.

Squeezing your eyes shut to hide the ache, you pull away after you realize. “Thanks, Astarion. That was nice,” you say, trying your best to not let the hurt show. “I.. I’m going to sleep now.” You sit up and grab your clothes, clumsily pulling them on. A cold hand wraps around your wrist.

“I- I wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” he says, eyes still not meeting yours.

Part of you wants to leave anyway, seeing as he seemed to not really enjoy these trysts, but the other part of you - the one that would give him the world - won out. You nod and lay back down, but scoot a bit away so that you two do not make contact.

If he notices this, he does not show any reaction.

Soon enough you drift away, feeling both happy and yet so miserable at the same time.

What did you want?

Astarion hates not knowing.

You had finally succumbed to his advances, as he knew you eventually would. He tried to be there this time, but to no avail no matter how hard he tried. He knew you noticed, that you probably could sense it, but there was really no other way for him to be with someone. Slipping the mask on was so easy, to flutter his eyelashes and the say those sweet words. But being present when it mattered… it felt impossible.

And then you surprised him by asking to be held. He wanted to tell you he doesn’t know how. That this isn’t part of his repertoire. Seduction was, sex was. But not care. Not affection. But he tried. For you. He pulled you in, unsure where to put his arms and how to position himself, but you molded yourself to his body and it just slotted in. It felt… nice? The initial wave of feeling caught him by surprise. That such a simple thing could make him feel safe - it was almost overwhelming. And then slowly, as though watching ice melt, he saw you notice his discomfort. Saw you squeeze your eyes closed, bracing against the heartache. He guesses what you’re thinking, but couldn’t muster the strength to tell you to stay, please. That he actually liked it. To say that felt like handing his heart out. Too much. Too vulnerable.

And so he let you move away. But when you made to leave, he finally found his voice - albeit in a way that didn’t really tell you what he wanted to say, but it did work.

As you fell asleep he watched over you, trying to put everything to memory. He gently drapes his blankets over your body, making sure you were tucked in and warm. He didn’t know what would come next. He didn’t know how to navigate this feeling in his chest. He was sure that whatever you felt, even if he admitted his feelings and you two were what - together?

- he was sure you would tire of him anyway. That you would either find the fact that he first slept with you to manipulate you to be repulsive, or that you would realize he had nothing to offer other than his body. He was certain he would fuck it all up.

You make your way out of the tent and find him outside, preparing his bags for the day. His arrows were strewn about as he started packing them in. You tap him on the shoulder, and he turns to you.

“Finally awake then? You took your time,” he said, back to his usual self.

You lean in and then quietly peck his cheek. “Thank you for last night. I… I appreciated it.” You walk away to prepare for the coming day. Crimson eyes followed you and had anyone been looking, the longing and hope in them would have been unmistakable.

[silent-sanctum]

Hi~ can I be 🍓anon? If you’re doing the emoji anon thing. Well, I just wanted to know if you’d write something with soulmate AU. I’m literally the most basic b ever and a sucker for soulmate AU. 🙈 something with jotaro being your soulmate is so cute to me…You can come up with any premise you want!

Hello 🍓 anon! I'm really sorry I took so long to put this out. I had a lot going on irl 😭 But here it is, over 9k worth of content about destiny and meeting each other through that.

Now, I'm gonna be honest, I am not too fond of the trope but I do dig it from time to time. So, I hope what I wrote meets your expectations! Hope you enjoy! ♡

A Wonderful World - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 9k

Everything was a blur. You couldn’t feel anything as your body felt weightless and cold.

But you could make out the rush of water fly by you and you could’ve sworn the skies went awry, never stopping as day turned to dusk to night to dawn and back in a blink of an eye.

You couldn’t move an inch and in circumstances like this, you knew this moment of clarity would be the last breath you’d experience.

Around you were bodies lying on the raging waters. A few of them were unfamiliar to you but you considered them allies, companions who aided you in getting this far into the chaos, and next to you was…

Your eyes swelled with tears.

Next to you was your husband motionless, forever resting as he left this world before you, a bleeding gash that split the right side of his face serving as a reminder of what caused his death.

‘I failed you.’

Whatever energy you had left in you was spent through your hand wading through the water, all to reach him one last time. Your surroundings started to dim and your body rotted with time, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered now was spending your last seconds by his side.

With your hand holding his, you closed your eyes and sent a prayer to the heavens- that maybe in another universe… in another timeline where this much pain and suffering didn’t exist… you prayed desperately that if it was written in fate, you could meet him there and fall in love all over again.

As you took your last breath, the last name you hoped carried on to the next life was-

You gasp, eyes now wide awake.

Your vision cleared and it took you a couple blinks for you to reorient with your surroundings. It was early morning and here you lay on your bed, the curtains drawn and the digital clock beside you just turning 7:31 with its bright red font.

Then there was that familiar ache that made you grasp your heart and spill a tear upon waking. “That dream again… It’s always that stupid dream,” you mumbled as you swiped the wetness off your eyes. You couldn’t for the life of you know why that one was so consistent amidst the many other random variants in your head.

And why the name couldn’t come to mind in every instance.

Before you, a ghostly apparition hovered out to face you with a fabric loosened to lay on your shoulders. You smiled as you grasped the translucent rose gold silk. “It’s fine. I’m fine Sanctuary. Just the usual.”

The entity tilted its head and only after the cloth lightly caressed your cheek with affection did it disappear back into you.

In perfect timing, your phone rang and on the screen flashed “Manager”. Swiping to accept, you placed the device by your ear. “Yes manager-nim?”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite leading star. I do hope you remember that you’re scheduled for a shoot at Toushiki Beach today.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes with a smirk at the singsong voice of the caller. “Yeah yeah, I know. 10:30 in the morning, right?”

“Ding ding ding. And if you don’t want your co-star complaining our ears off, you better be ready when I ring that doorbell.”

“Don’t worry,” you threw your legs off to the side and stood, heading to the bathroom. “I’ve always been on time. No matter how late I wake or whatnot. If anything, it’s him that’s always late.”

On the other side of the call, your manager groaned less at you and more at his situation. “And yet we’re also pulled into his mess.”

“Well, this isn’t my first rodeo. If the director starts yelling at us again, I’ll make sure to remind him who’s truly at fault here,” you said. “Besides, no one would be at fault but his if he even considers changing one of the industry’s highest-paid actors mid-shoot.”

“You better keep your word Y/N.”

“I will.”

Life as a celebrity was nothing too challenging, considering you’ve been raised to shine for the masses. Stardom started as a singer when your parents encouraged you to use your voice to entice the public. But as that career took off, you were offered to star in a film as an artist cameo once you’ve hit 18.

Then it all snowballed down the line. Many producers found your visuals and acting skills top-notch and wanted you to lead their shows and movies.

Here you were 10 years later- an A-list actress paid handsomely to feature in media that award-winning directors directed.

And to make it all better, well for you at least, you had someone to accompany you. A ghostly entity you named “Silent Sanctuary” was linked to you and you didn’t know why it did or how no one else did, but you came to accept that she was a part of you- a being who wished to be your invisible “guardian angel” willingly.

Your thoughts were shoved aside as the vehicle stopped and your actual bodyguard opened the door for you. Immediately, a frazzled-looking man in a padded jacket holding a clipboard came running to you. “Y/N! Oh, thank god you were here before your co-star did!”

“What did I say?” You said, stepping outside onto the concrete pavement. The breeze from the nearby sea brushed your hair on your arrival. “I told you I’m always on time.”

“Yeah that’s great and all but we still have to report to the director,” he said as he led you across the solid path ahead, walking past the rocky formations jutting out from the sandy ground and down on the stone staircase leading to the beach.

Ahead of you was the production crew setting up the necessary equipment needed for filming, and among them was a loud-mouthed man yelling at somebody to fix the sound system with his megaphone. Yeah, just another day of filming.

Soon your co-star arrived, late as you’d expect, already stomping into the scene whining about how cold it was or how annoying traffic was. But that didn’t matter as you sucked yourself into the role you were given ahead of time.

The movie’s concept revolved around the idea of soulmates. Its story involved the tale of two lovers who were always met at the short end of the stick, constantly losing each other time and time again, and your character’s job was to find a way to make sure that in this universe, you’d reach for your love and never let fate separate them again.

You weren’t fond of these films mainly because you thought the idea of “finding your fated partner” sounded too childish or fantastical to your liking, and initially, you were about to reject the offer. But somehow, as you read the script for the first time, you found yourself… touched. Your heart ached not at the thought of “meeting your soulmate for the first time” but at the idea of “finding your lover again in a better world”.

For a second, your mind thought back to the dream you kept having- of rushing water, fallen bodies, and the deceased man you held hands with.

And here you were now- playing the lead role for this “red string of fate-esque” movie with one of the worst partners you’d imagine. Do this for the output. For the results. For the story to be told to the crowd.

So, you did your part well; the moment the director cued the cameras to start rolling, you did your best to portray a struggling person arguing with her estranged lover about a key issue in the film. It took several cuts and a couple of re-shoots before the director was contented with the scene and called for an hour-long break. Lunch.

You invited your manager to eat out at a nearby restaurant selling ramen but he politely declined saying he had to answer some phone calls regarding brand deals you were supposed to be in.

You went ahead, a single bodyguard in tow on the way to the supposed popular place. When you got there, its reputation met your expectations- the place was filled to the brim, teeming with customers wanting a taste of the chef’s tasty ramen. With security waiting outside, you entered the place with your mask and hat on and fell in line.

Once your order was taken and a blinking pager was given, you turned to look for a spot where you could wait. But then, a pull caught your attention and you looked over to see Sanctuary hovering about, fixating on something with a fabric tugging your wrist.

“Hey,” you whispered. “What’s wrong?”

The entity ignored your words and continued tugging, wanting you to go somewhere. Confused, you directed your gaze to where your companion faced- the stairs leading to the upper floors. “Oh, you found a seat for me?” No response. Only her incessant pulling. “Alright, I’m going.”

You went upstairs, brushing past the passing crowd on the way. You were met with more people enjoying their meals and zero empty tables. “Sanctuary, I thought there were-” You didn’t get to complete your sentence when the ghost kept tugging at your wrist, its head directed to the stairs going up.

“The rooftop?” As far as you could tell, the rooftop section of the place was reserved for those who booked a spot ahead of time, and even as famous as you are, you haven’t made any reservations so you didn’t get to head upstairs. “Sanctuary, I didn’t plan to eat here. I’m not supposed to go there!”

But your supposed loyal entity remained stubborn as she fully manifested out of you and hovered to the 3rd floor of the restaurant with speed. “Hey!” You sword you’ve never had her disobey you ever throughout the time you had her, but this was a first and it flustered you to this extent. “Come back here!”

You continued up the final flight of stairs and swung open the door leading outside. Fortunately, the place was mostly empty considering the restaurant just opened.

On the other hand, your relief at the lack of people was replaced with embarrassment as you spotted Silent Sanctuary wrapped around a lone, unsuspecting man sitting by one of the tables beside the glass fence.

The person didn’t pick up her presence much like the others, only confused as dictated by the cocked head, furrowed brows, and rigid posture he had due to the binds your ghost companion had on him.

Play it cool. Excuse yourself. You cleared your throat, bringing his attention away from the book in his hand to you. As he stared at you, you stood still, caught off guard at his attractiveness: Slicked-up raven hair, bold jawline, and stunning aquamarine eyes. Was he an actor? You peeked at the built figure beneath his black turtleneck and white coat. Or a model perhaps?

“Yes?” Shit, his voice is deep too.

“Ah hello,” you bowed in courtesy and he did the same with a bob of his head. You steadily approached him, eyeing Sanctuary to let go and get back inside. “I was just looking for a place to eat. The place is crowded down here.”

“There are empty tables beside you,” he said, gruffly.

“Well yeah, but those are reserved so I can’t eat there.”

The stranger cocked his brow and crossed his arms. “You’ve made no reservations and yet you’re here?”

You subtly glared at your invisible companion still hovering close to the man. That seemed to do the trick as the entity reluctantly let go and disappeared. You kept up a calm front and answered, “Listen, I’m on a time crunch right now so I can’t wait for a table downstairs. This place also doesn’t offer take-outs so I figured maybe I could…”

“Share a table?”

“Yeah!… That…” Which was a lie. You did find a table on the first floor and were about to beeline straight to it, but Sanctuary had to intervene at the worst time possible. “And look what we have here; an empty seat in front of you unless you have someone coming-”

“I’m here by myself.”

Unintentionally, you let out a quick “ah” with a clap and nod. “So… can I-”

“No,” The man continued to stare at you, unimpressed. “Not until you clarify how tight your current schedule exactly is. You can return another time when it’s less busy.”

Your mind was running circles trying to come up with excuse after excuse; one that wasn’t entirely false so it alleviated your guilty conscience. But your patience was running thin as your break gradually shortened. “I can’t come back some other time because I have somewhere else to be after today,” you gritted out. “This restaurant’s only available in this part of Tokyo so I want to try their ramen before I leave.”

“You didn’t tell me the details of your current schedule. What if you’re lying?”

You clicked your tongue, pulled down your mask, and took your hat off, revealing yourself to him. “See those groups of people with filming equipment over there?” You pointed to the beach to which he did look over. “I’m part of their team and they’re about to call my ass any minute now.”

For a second, the stranger blinked at you with what you thought was recognition, but then-

“You man the cameras?”

“C-Camera-” At this point, you scoffed with your hands on your hips, tonguing the inside of your cheek as you looked to the sky wishing for more patience. “You really can’t lend a poor bystander a free seat because of some kind of stubborn skepticism?”

“You barged in here and interrupted my peace first.”

“Come on, just this once?” You glanced at the empty bowl on his table. “You’re done with yours so might as well, right?”

“What if I still say no?” He said. “You rude nag.”

You simply stared at him with disbelief and from some gut instinct, you blurted out an audible “asshole” before you realized what you said. You cupped your mouth, stunned, but the stranger didn’t seem insulted by the exchange.

Instead, he was… amused? Surprised?

Just then, your pager beeped wildly from inside your pocket. “Crap, what should I-”

“Alright,” you turned to the man with wide eyes. “You can have that seat.”

A big wave of relief swept across your panicking mind and with a quick word of gratitude, you hurried downstairs to fetch your steaming bowl of ramen.

---

Jotaro didn’t know what to make of his encounter with this… stranger.

It happened so suddenly- one moment he was minding his own business, invested in the detective novel he had in his hand, the next his body felt constricted as if he was bound by invisible ropes, and next a random masked lady barges through the door, appearing frazzled.

Then in the next minute, you’re here trying to persuade him to share a table due to the packed situation of the restaurant.

He should’ve been annoyed. That’s how it’s always been with people who seemed entitled to have everything to themselves or those who crossed his boundaries, but he couldn’t find it in him to be irritated at you. Skeptical sure, but pissed? Not exactly.

Admittedly, Jotaro had no problem sharing the table with you. He was done with his meal and you provided reasonable excuses in a polite manner- A busy worker who wanted a taste of a local delicacy before leaving.

He would’ve gotten up right then and there, but for some reason, he wanted to tease you- rile you up a bit until those polite mannerisms slipped up. What the hell? Why would I do that? Despite his logical reasoning, he continued to reject your approaches and you began to seethe, growing frustrated.

He huffed. Why am I feeling… nostalgic?

And when you removed both your mask and hat, Jotaro paused as he took one good look at you. Wait… you’re- Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?

It wasn’t from any media he had watched or a published article he’d read. It was somewhere else and it made his chest throb out of the blue. Where?

Then in a fit of understandable anger, you remarked him being an asshole and a hard sense of Deja vu struck him as an image sparked in his head- a school’s rooftop, him in his black school uniform, and a female student saying that same word as she was about to head inside.

“Mind your own business, bitch.”

“Insults won’t get you anywhere, asshole.”

This was supposed to be during his high school years, but as far as he knew, he didn’t go to the rooftop once or talk to another student like in his visions. He smoked outside the school building and ignored any squealing fans that came his way. Jotaro was about to comment on it, but your pager blared and caused you to panic. Looks like the game’s over.

“Alright. You can have the spare seat.” And at your wide-eyed expression and a quick word of gratitude, he had to resist himself from smiling even by a little bit. This isn’t how he’s supposed to behave; tease a stranger and then smile endearingly at them because of a thank you?

But he couldn’t overstay now, not when you’re supposed to be back here any moment now with a huge bowl of ramen, and so he stood, heading to the exit.

On the way, you arrived with your order. He tipped his hat at you and you bowed at him one more time.

And again, Jotaro stopped in his tracks at the feel of his wrist being tugged. Looking down at it, nothing was holding him back. He heard you mutter something and suddenly, the tightness that held him loosened.

He subtly glanced over his shoulder to see you already settled on the seat despite his dirty dishes still on the table. He thought nothing of it other than being content at watching you enjoy lunch and went on with his day.

A server walked up the stairs and Jotaro stopped him before he could enter. “Don’t mind the lady eating at my table. Just take the bowl and clean what needs to be cleaned.”

“B-But sir customers aren’t allowed to,” One firm glare from his eyes cut off whatever the poor guy was about to say. “Noted sir.”

---

It’s been a week since that day and so far, the progress of the shoot has been great.

If you dismissed the number of times you had to ignore the urge to smack your co-star every time he whined about every minor inconvenience, today was productive. Not only were you able to execute your solo scene on your first try, but all the scenes that came with other actors went by smoother than before.

The director wrapped the emotional beach scenes and called it a day. If you recall correctly, the next batch of scenes will take place in some sort of facility since the upcoming scene will feature your character, a scientist specializing in quantum physics, meeting her lover while in the middle of work wanting to patch things up.

However, in the middle of your mini-success, you couldn’t help but think about what Silent Sanctuary did; about why she decided to disobey you and embrace a seemingly random man in the middle of reading his book.

But then your thoughts would further spiral into thinking of the man in the white coat. Why did he look familiar? And… You clutched your chest as you stared at the ceiling. Why do I feel like crying when I think about him again? You shook your head and leaned over to switch off the lamp. Whatever. It’s probably nothing. Just focus on your work.

It took a while for the crew to search for a place to shoot the said scenes. Eventually, they got in contact with one cooperative executive of a research institute within the capital and got their permission to film on their grounds, as long as they didn’t enter prohibited areas and disturb the people doing their jobs.

There were still a couple of paperwork that needed to be done so you were given a bit of time to spend while you waited. You told your manager you wanted to check out a nearby aquarium and what reason could he have to deny you a simple request?

You didn’t know why you wanted to visit an aquarium of all places. Because you liked the ocean but couldn’t see the cute fishes in them? Or was it because of something else like the instinctual tug in your chest?

Your manager didn’t see any problem with your request and brought you to the Sumida Aquarium near the Skytree. He informed you that he’d come back for you in a while and you thanked him for the ride. With that, you went on inside.

After receiving your ticket inside, you fixed the mask you had on and proceeded down the dimmed hallways, sight-seeing the many aquatic life swimming about the area in their glowing tanks with awe. It was fortunate that there were fewer people than you would’ve expected, but you weren’t complaining.

If anything, you were relieved you didn’t have to worry about racking attention from onlooking eyes.

You continued down the dimly lit path underneath the overarching tank that teemed with passing fishes of different sizes and types until you reached what you could assume was the main hall where the aquarium’s biggest tank could be located. “Woah~”

A wide smile grew as you watched a baby whale shark swim by. You stepped closer and placed your hand on the cool surface of the glass, admiring the sheer size of the aquatic creature living its life in this enclosure.

“You’re here again.”

“Hm?” You hummed as you turned to your side, only to widen your eyes as not only did you notice Sanctuary’s fabric stretched out to wrap a random person's wrist, but onto the wrist of the same man in the white coat. “Oh, it’s you! How did I not notice you?”

“Not sure myself. I just felt my wrist get bound out of nowhere and I made an assumption,” he said as he stared at you. “Turns out I was right.”

You cursed under your breath and willed your companion back inside before she could further embarrass you. “By the way,” you started. “I’m sorry for yelling at you at that ramen restaurant. It was entirely rude of me.”

He scoffed. “You just realized?”

“I didn’t know what came over me,” you said. “I don’t know if it was hunger, being tired, or… something else. But I mean it when I say I’m sorry.”

He looked you over and back again at the tank. “Okay then. Apology accepted.”

You beamed. “Really?”

“Do you expect me to make jokes about that?”

“Well no, that was a rhetorical question,” I huffed, crossing my arms. “Gosh, you can be quite the skeptic sometimes.”

“And that’s bad?” You could pick up the smirk from the way he replied.

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sometimes.”

For a moment, you and the stranger remained silent and opted to watch the sea life going about their day in the large aquarium before them, sharing the implied mutual agreement to watch them swim by in peace.

Until another large creature came from behind the rock formations and another word of awe slipped past your lips. “Look at that big boy! I didn’t know sting rays were this huge.”

“That’s a female manta ray,” you turn to look at the man who spoke after you. “You could tell because she has no stinger on her tail. It’s female because they’re larger than males as seen as another manta ray swims along her. He has a shorter wingspan and if you observe closely, the smaller ray has those flaps in the pelvic area called claspers, while the bigger manta doesn’t. It’s a way for him to deliver sperm for reproduction.”

You gape at the sudden information he dropped due to your lack of knowledge about rays. “You know your stuff.”

“I’m supposed to. It’s my job,” he diverted his attention back to you. “Marine biologist.”

A drawn-out “oh” was how you responded, and because you wanted to take the chance while he was there, you asked. “If you say so, then say some facts about…” You hummed as you thought about what to ask, and in some part of your brain, you decided on the first and the next. “Clownfishes.”

The man cocked his head and answered with ease. “They’re hermaphrodites. They grow as males but can turn into females when necessary.”

“Jellyfish?”

“There’s a species called Turritopsis dohrnii, or the immortal jellyfish. They can avoid growing old by being able to reverse their biological clock back into a younger stage.”

“Starfish?”

At that, the stranger paused and ruminated over what to say and for a second you thought he’d end up with a blank, but he replied shortly after. “They consume food by extending their stomach out of their mouths and over the digestible parts of their prey like mussels or clams.”

You smiled at the unique knowledge he gave you. “Impressive. Should I contact you every time I spot a funky-looking fish then?”

You were worried for a second thinking he would downplay your lighthearted ask, but a pit in your heart bloomed as the corners of his lips turned up into a small smile. “I doubt I’d pick up. I’m a busy man.”

“You don’t look busy.”

The stranger glanced at you. “On most days.”

At that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. You didn’t know why but it felt right, more so when the other person huffed with his subtle smile still plastered on his face. “Say,” you started. “Do you want some coffee? My treat. Take it as an additional compensation for the ramen drama.”

The man in the white coat tilted his head, thinking, and answered with a curt “Sure.”

---

Jotaro enjoyed this more than he should.

The second his wrist was in a light grip, he knew you were nearby. You arrived, apologized, and thanked him for accepting it. That should be the end of the conversation, but as he watched your eyes glitter in awe at the passing manta ray, he couldn’t help but remark facts about the creature.

Right then, a wave of Deja vu sparked a faint memory in his head just as it did when you first met him; one that presented the interior of a dimmed submarine, a single circular window, and the same student at the rooftop sitting by it.

“It’s a giant manta ray. For a 20-foot-long fish, they have large brains that are developed similarly to bottlenose dolphins and primates… It’s either swimming around the window because it saw itself or it saw you and is curious about you.”

The vision disappeared a second after it played out in his head and the tug in his chest would start to bother him yet again. It wasn’t a bad thing though. If anything, he’d like to share more information if you wanted. And like cascading water, his mind would continue playing out his voice answering with information about the same animals you said, and he’d vocalize them to you.

Clownfish? They’re hermaphrodites. They grow as males but can turn into females when necessary.

Jellyfish? There’s a species called Turritopsis dohrnii, or the immortal jellyfish, and they can evade old age by reversing their biological clock back into its baby polyp stage. It does so by reabsorbing its tentacles and coming to rest as a blob of undifferentiated cells somewhere on the seafloor.

But as you asked about starfish, his mind would answer differently than he would have. “I actually don’t know much about them yet. But I plan to in the future.” And it confused him for a moment because coincidentally, he was in the process of writing a thesis about starfishes like he planned to when he was still in high school.

And god, when you smiled with total admiration for his expertise, butterflies started to flutter inside and he couldn’t hold back the joy he reciprocated upon seeing you this way. This felt… right.

It would be no surprise that when you offered to buy him coffee to further patch up the scene you caused, Jotaro accepted it almost immediately.

Hence here they were in a neighboring cafe with two glasses of caffeinated drinks and plated sandwiches ready to consume on the table. “Oh gosh, we’ve been talking for this long and we still don’t know each other’s names.” You took a sip of your latte and continued. “I’m Y/N L/N. If you’re an avid media watcher, then you might recognize me.”

He tipped his hat. “Kujo Jotaro and no, I don’t have enough spare time to indulge in films.” But you’re familiar regardless and I’m unsure why.

“Not even an hour or two for yourself?” You asked. “You must have at least switched on the TV at least once and seen a movie that interested you.”

He hummed. “If it bothers you that much, then fine. I do watch documentaries and true crime investigations from time to time.”

“There you go,” you said but in the next second, you pondered out loud. “Did I ever star in crime films? I think… maybe? Or was that more of a romance?”

“Star in them?”

You nodded after you took a bite of your food. “I’m an actress hence why I pointed to the filming crew last time, and why I got insulted when you said I merely manned the camera.”

“Oh,” Jotaro said, a hint of warmth now present in his cheeks as he thought back to that moment. “I… misunderstood then. I apologize.”

“You don’t have to. I did more wrong anyways,” you chuckled. “But you don’t mind me asking what crime films you might’ve watched, do you? I’m curious.”

“Well, let’s see…”

And it went on and on from there. For the ever-focused and present Jotaro to get lost in his conversation was a feat on your part. What started from a simple question about what titles he watched spiraled into threads of other similar topics that all piqued his interest.

What he liked more than the thoughtful exchange between two acquaintances was watching you talk with so much passion. There was always something endearing in the way you would go in-depth without being conscious of the other person. Not only did it ease whatever tension he had about needing to talk back, but also gave him relief knowing when it was his turn to share, you won’t mind it one bit.

But the day has to end sometime and you needed to return and prepare, while he had to resume doing his job. You and he walked side-by-side to the entrance and outside the establishment was another person, waiting by the van. “Guess I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Jotaro nodded. Just then, the tightness around his wrist returned and he gazed back at you. “Hey…”

“Hm?”

You opened your mouth, the words nearly leaving you, but you shook your head and dismissed it. “Never mind. It’s nothing important.” Jotaro doubted that but he won’t force you to tell him if you didn’t want to.

He watched you walk ahead, greeting what he assumed was your manager. The person patted you as he slid the door open for you to enter, but before you did, you waved at Jotaro one last time. He removed one hand from his pocket to raise a goodbye gesture back.

The sky dimmed as his watch hit 6:00 and your van drove off into the distance.

He couldn’t help but hope he’d cross paths with you again.

---

A week passed.

The team arrived on the institute’s grounds miraculously on time, prepping everything until the scene was good to go. You got your make-up and outfit done, just some faint skin makeover to give off a more haggard look combined with your formal fit and lab coat, and met up with the male lead and director on the set.

“Alright, for this scene, I need you to follow after Y/N down these halls up to the part where you both end up in the open area here. I want to hear the desperation in your voice as you do so, got it?” Your co-star waved it off and gave a cocky thumbs-up. “Y/N, I need you to portray stressed out, pissed, but also with a hint of yearning when you try to get him off your tail.”

You nodded. Two out of the three emotions were of no problem when dealing with the guy you worked with.

As you got into place, you dismissed the watching eyes of the passing researchers and focused on the task at hand. Being the center of attention wasn’t anything new. I got this.

“And action!”

You moved at a brisk pace, filing through the many papers on your clipboard as you tried to ignore the pleas of the other lead. Behind the two of them, the cameras followed the duo through the hallways, walking past the background people without breaking away from the actors.

At the ending point, his character grabbed your arm and you react violently, yelling at him that your character needed to be left alone, only to proceed to talk about doing all of these jobs for him and the possibility of a future with them in it.

“Cut!” Immediately, you sighed and stepped out of character. “Y/N, you’re doing phenomenal with the frustrated rage you were letting out, but we need a bit more of the sad, longing aspect to your dialogue. Get emotional and tear up for effect. Or else, the audience might think you’re purely pissed at the guy for disturbing your job.”

You responded with a simple “got it”, however, as you re-took the scene again and again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get emotional when the man you are responding to wanted to make you roast the living shit out of him. It was unprofessional but with the way he acted ever since the start of the project, you wanted to rip his eyes out and call it quits.

“Y/N,” the director said. “I know you’re co-star is making this hard for all of us, but if we want this scene to be over, you need to express better and give me that release the movie needs.”

You held back a groan and answered an honest “I’ll do my best.”

“Take 5! And action!”

At the click of the clapperboard, you re-did your steps down the halls with your clipboard in hand. “Ayumi, please hear me out! You don’t have to do this!” Cried Isamu but it all fell on deaf ears as you continued to ignore him.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“How often do I have to tell you to leave me alone?!” You yell back, eyes still focused on the papers. “I need to finish this and you’re not helping!”

“Then let me at least try! Please, we need to talk!”

“There’s no point! You intervening will just make things worse!”

Both of you stepped outside and just as you were about to make a run, he grabbed your arm and held you back. You whipped your head back at him, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Why won’t you let me try? Do you hate me that much?”

This was the scene. You had to cry out to him with all the yearning you had, and you tried to find some way to bring such emotions out. You drew out the scene, trying to improvise a speechless act as you looked for ways to tear up.

One look in the corner of your eye and you found Jotaro watching you intently among the background researchers mumbling among themselves. He was stoic as ever, posture lax yet poised with his hands in his pockets, but there was something in the way he watched you that slipped past his stone-like expression. He had his brows furrowed and his lips tight as he never broke eye contact with you.

Your heart started to ache and you were reminded of the man in your dreams, but rather than the vision of him dead, your mind flashed glimpses of the stranger when he was alive. All of them were from your perspective and every one of them was like a memoir of two lovers- flashes of school uniforms and lunches, oceans and sunsets, a joyous wedding, and a budding family.

Were these… Your eyes swelled with tears. My life?

But you realized you were still on set and with the appropriate emotion, you said your lines. “Because I did!” You cried. “I did let you try but every time I let you back in… every time I let myself fall for you again, you die all over again. You don’t know how many times I’ve seen you die.”

“I’m doing all that I can, including putting all my goddamn efforts into this machine, just so I can save what we have.” You continued to sob, pulling away from his hold. You were meant to stare far off into the distance, away from your co-star, but your gaze drifted off to Jotaro instead.

“I promised I’d find you again in another universe but this time when I do, I’ll make sure we’ll never have to suffer the same fate as before.” Finishing that line, you tore away from the biologist’s gaze and back to Isamu with tired, puffy eyes. “So please, let me go and leave me be now you know what’s best for us.”

Isamu said nothing and dropped his hand in defeat.

“And cut! Y/N, that was amazing!” the director clapped his hands and slapped your back. You sniffled and let out an awkward chuckle. “See? I knew you had it in you! I expected nothing less from such a talented actress.”

“Yeah…” You tried to look past him and onto the watching crowd, trying to spot a certain blue-eyed man among the crowd. “Thanks…”

True to his words, the director wrapped up the shooting and applauded everyone with an enthusiastic good job. The crew patted themselves on the back and began to pack everything up, your co-star had already left beforehand as you would’ve expected, and your manager handed you a padded jacket and a steaming cup of coffee. “Took you long enough to get into the mood.”

But you didn’t answer as you kept searching among the moving crowd for his specific white coat and unique hat, but all you saw were the black shirts of the filming crew and the standard white coats of the other researchers that just happened to pass by. Why did you watch me like that? Your chest ached out of the blue and you grew restless. Were you there or did I just imagine you?

“Earth to Y/N-san! It’s about to rain!” You blinked yourself back into reality as you felt a droplet land on your nose. You swallowed and bowed your head in apology to which your manager simply waved it off. “It’s fine, let’s just head back inside.”

You said your farewells to the team as you stepped into a changing room to switch your formal wardrobe with a more casual fit, and after smoothing out your blouse and skirt, you headed to the nearby mirror to make sure your face was free of the make-up from earlier.

One look at your reflection and you stared at yourself with bewilderment, a hand coming up to rake through your hair. “What the hell was that?” You often took pride in your ability to immerse into the scene, be one with your character, and display the intended emotion, but for the first time, whatever it was that you felt- that surge of nostalgia and longing- was real.

Now came into question whether spotting him on the sidelines caused this or was it these emotions that triggered your brain to hallucinate the marine biologist watching you close by as a means of projection.

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “You’re making this a big deal. It’s probably nothing.”

“Y/N-san! Do you need a ride back? Or do you have other plans?” Your manager said.

“I’ll go home by myself! You can go ahead!”

Pushing past your confused thoughts, you fetched your bag and made your way to the building’s entrance. Walking past the glass doors, the downpour hindered you from going any further. You opened your tote and rummaged around for an umbrella, only for panic to grow as you couldn’t find any.

“L/N-san.” You perked at the voice calling out to you. With one look over your shoulder, you widened your eyes as Jotaro approached you with an unreadable expression. “Looking for something?”

“Kujo-ssi,” you said, cheeks growing warm. “A-Ah yeah. An umbrella actually but I don’t think I brought it with me.”

It was a matter of time until he stopped a few feet away from you. “Here.” You paused and drifted your sight to the closed gray umbrella.

Heat crept up your face as you made a move to grab it with hesitation. “Aren’t you going to need it?”

He shook his head. “I have a spare one.”

You nodded, still dubious, and took the umbrella off his hand. You opened it and took one step forward, only to pause and look to your side and saw Jotaro still standing in place, not making any move to bring out the so-called “spare” from his satchel. He caught you looking and raised a brow in question.

“You don’t have one more, do you?”

He didn’t reply for a solid second, only to clear his throat instead. “I do.”

Sure you do. “Are you busy later?”

Jotaro cocked his head and turned to you. “Why do you ask?”

“Want to get some coffee?” You asked with warm cheeks. “But if you’re busy then it’s fine.”

“Sure,” he said as he glanced at his watch. “I need some caffeine for the late-night meeting. I might as well.”

In an instant, you smiled with relief. “That’s great because now I can do this,” you said as you gestured for the marine biologist to come closer which he did, surprisingly. With him close, you stretched your arm and lifted his umbrella to cover them both. “Now I don’t have to feel guilty over accidentally stealing your stuff. We can walk to the cafe together like this.”

Jotaro huffed with a small smile. “Walk? I can drive us there. If you want, I can also take you to your hotel once we’re finished.”

Your heated face never ceased despite the chilly breeze from the rain. “We still need to get to your car from the parking lot outside so…” You bit your lip. “Walking is technically still part of the journey.”

For the first time since you met him, Jotaro chuckled softly. “I guess it is. And by the way,” he took the stem of his umbrella and held it up higher than you did with ease. “You’re too short to keep us both dry.”

You pouted at his remark. “You could’ve offered earl-”

“We better head there now,” Jotaro said, cutting you mid-sentence. “The nearest cafe is going to close in 30 minutes.”

“Rude,” you moved closer to him as the two of you stepped into the rain. “Now you owe me that ride home.”

“For reminding you?”

“For cutting me off. Thou shall not cut me off mid-speech, understood?”

Jotaro smiled and shook his head. “Good grief.”

---

It was all history from that point moving forward.

One coffee out turned into another hangout, and ever since then, both would frequently find each other despite your hectic schedules, and every time, they’d find an excuse to stay for a bit longer.

Something that started from a simple date at a restaurant spiraled into a sightseeing trip around the rural landscapes of the capital. Once what was a quick exchange of formality between acquaintances, shifted into casual banter between close friends. You even got to meet his sweet mother for tea.

Eventually, somewhere in the middle, you kissed him one fateful evening and he kissed back.

And that would be the last meeting you got with the biologist before he set off to sea to accomplish an on-site dive for a study.

Time seemed to pass faster than usual. You can still remember when you acted out your first scene in Tokyo months ago and here you were now- about to wrap up the last scene to film before sending the footage to the editing department. Everyone in the filming crew cheered among themselves and thanked you for the work you’ve put into the project, complete with a bouquet and a snack truck with your name and image plastered all over.

Even as your manager patted you on the back and offered his “good jobs” and compliments, you could only think of sharing your accomplishments with Jotaro, wanting to huddle close and talk about what was to come next for a leading star. At the same time, he would hold you in his arms as he listened.

But all you could do for now was send a text message for him to read in hopes he would open them when he’s no longer busy. And so you were left by yourself, lost in thoughts and dreams about your repeated visions that stormed your mind. Up to now, you couldn’t remember the name you uttered at the end.

Of the man you held as you died in what appeared to be a past life.

To celebrate the success of the shoot, the director hosted a party a week after where everyone involved in the movie was invited and have a well-earned good time. And you did enjoy your time there; you got to eat a buffet-worth of food, drink as much as you could without getting drunk, and get into wild conversations with the other actors about what their acting experiences were doing this film.

It was only as you were about to head into the van your manager drove did the news arrive. It blared on a skyscraper’s big screen announcing a freak accident that occurred to a research vessel that sent a certain marine biologist into the hospital in critical condition.

Dread poured over you instantly, your heart falling into a deep void as it feared the worst.

Whatever you intended to do that night flew out the window as you told your manager to drive you to the hospital mentioned in the news, and noticing the panic in your voice, he didn’t bother to question you and did what you told him to do.

You bolted out of the vehicle the second it stopped in front of the building’s glass doors. You made a beeline to the nurse’s station and asked where he was, growing frustrated when she told you guests weren’t allowed to visit no matter how many times you tried to tell her he was your boyfriend.

Your efforts were dismissed and all you could do was sit on one of the many chairs in the waiting area, head in your hands as you did your best not to break into hysterics. Your manager stayed put and not knowing how to comfort you properly, he stroked your back in silent reassurance.

From the outside looking in, you shouldn’t be feeling such extreme emotions for someone who you recently met and dated within a short amount of time. Being upset at a loved one’s threatened health is normal, but this was something that hurt you more than it did anyone else.

It was visceral. It induced a gnawing guilt that began to consume you from the core and you didn’t know how to process that when you shouldn’t be feeling such emotion when you didn’t do anything to earn it.

Hours passed and you remained seated even as your manager politely left an hour ago. By some blessing made by whatever greater deity was there, an equally distraught Holly found you in tears upon hearing the news, and with the loving touch of a mother, she wrapped you in a warm embrace and you did the same.

She led you to where her son’s room was and upon entering through the door, you bit your lip as the tears began to swell in your eyes seeing your lover’s current condition- unconscious and bandaged heavily on one side of his face with an oxygen mask fixed on his face.

Knowing you, Holly gently encouraged you to sit by his side and gave you ample time to stay with him alone before leaving the room, closing the door with a soft click.

You let out a shaky exhale as you gently reached for his hand, bringing it to your lips to kiss the knuckles and enclosing it with your other hand. “Why am I hurting this much?” You muttered. “I’ve known you for months and yet it feels like years. I feel like I’m going to die seeing you like this.”

You held his hand tight as you laid your forehead on it, praying for him to wake as soon as he could. Little did you know, you slept throughout the night in this dim hospital room still in the outfit you wore from the party.

And then you were in that dream once more, witnessing the rushing waves and moving skies yet again. However, you were an active viewer of the experience and with your conscious dream state, you looked over at the fallen allies lying on the ocean surface, and in front of you was… him.

You couldn’t be more stupid when you didn’t recognize him at first glance, but as if the veil had been removed, you saw his face in clear daylight.

All those visages of high school up to marriage were with him and only him. You knew now the last piece of the puzzle. His name.

The man in the white coat and ripped hat.

“Jotaro.”

---

He was drowning.

Jotaro couldn’t even bring it in himself to do anything as he let the sea drag him to the depths. Perhaps, this dream made sense considering what had happened during his recent dive: It happened underwater, his face got cut against a rocky wall of jagged edges, and he became unconscious.

But this felt different as if this dream was a disjointed memory that wasn’t his but it was at the same time.

He wasn’t wearing the diving gear he’d usually use, but a purple coat with gold accents and a ripped hat that had the same color as his fit. He was blind in one eye as he had expected and with his functioning eye, he watched as red trailed up from his gash.

Was this vision a sign that he was simply going to drown for the rest of his life? And why did he feel guilt when no one was involved but himself?

Jotaro should be doing something to get out of this situation, swimming to the surface and taking a breath, but he felt numb as if he was stuck in a cold paralysis. He wasn’t in control of his body but he could sense the dull pain and fatigue putting him in this bind.

‘I see how it is…” He stopped resisting and let his eyes close, accepting that this was his fate.

But a sudden warmth came to him in a heartbeat. Muffled by the water, a gentle chime of a music box strung itself for Jotaro to hear. ‘What… was this?’ Then there was that familiar tightness wrapped around his wrist that led to him opening his eyes.

And there you were, your hand holding his wrist.

There was fondness dripping from the way you looked at him, a sad smile gracing your features even as you let yourself be engulfed in the cold water alongside him.

No words were said as you swam closer to him, reaching forward to cup his cheek with your free hand, and even amid the watery void, seeing the surface become out of reach, Jotaro smiled as he moved his hand to engulf yours. On both yours and his hands, a wedding ring adorned your ring fingers and it was this moment, he realized.

‘It was you.’

He pulled you to him and wrapped you in a warm embrace, burying his face on your shoulder. You did the same as you held him tight.

And now, even as they sink to the darkest depths of the abyss, he won’t be alone. At least they had each other and that’s all he needed.

---

You wake with tears rolling in your eyes and with your sudden realization, you shot upright and turned to Jotaro sitting up as well, with a hand gently touching his affected face with the bandages that covered it undone and on his lap.

“Jotaro-ssi…” He paused and shifted his attention to you, slowly lowering his hand to reveal the aftermath of his accident.

It was the exact injury you constantly saw in your dreams; the same vertical scar that ran down the right side of his face with the injured eye now dull and glassy. It’s really you. You hid your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle a sob. “You’re awake.”

“Y/N…”

Through a blurred vision, you looked at him as he grazed your hand with his. Without hesitation, you held it tight and brought his palm to your lips. He huffed, hearing the smile as he did. With a gentle caress of his thumb on your cheek, he said.

“I found you.”

[thotofthecentury]

fuckboy!angela x reader college au

could be read as a part 2 to my last one, but isn’t required to read this

TR: dubious consent, briefly

“You haven’t said anything since you last spoke?” Mariah whispers from across the library table.

“No!” you whisper-shout back. “I’ve done everything I can to avoid her! I am out of the room when she doesn’t have class, I go to bed before she gets back-“

“God, just ask her out already,” Chanse groans into his hands at normal volume.

You and Mariah both shush him, looking around, perhaps a bit paranoid.

“Not yet!” Mariah replies at the same time you say, “Are you crazy?”

The last time you spoke to your roommate, Angela, was Tuesday. Today is Friday. Your suddenly super hot, sexy, and very flirtatious roommate.

“You can’t avoid her forever,” Chanse whispers like you didn’t know that. Like that hasn’t been on your mind since she found out you were a virgin. To face her… now that she knows…

The words ‘you can’t avoid her forever’ loom over you like a cloud. Or more like a loaded gun. It’s nighttime and you suspect Angela’s going to stay over at a girl’s dorm, being Friday night and all, but you never know.

You’ve never felt more vulnerable or practically humiliated than when she called you out for being a virgin. When she called you out for not-so-secretly masturbating while she hooked up with a girl in the next bed! But it was just a one time thing. It’s over. There’s nothing more you can do but to coexist with her.

An hour passes and you’re ready for bed. It’s 2:30 in the morning. Just because you’re a bit of a prude doesn’t mean you don’t have fun on Friday nights. If ‘have fun’ means watch reality tv for hours on end instead of doing homework. Angela’s called you lame for it, but at least you’re having fun.

You turn out the lights and lay down, getting all comfy to go to bed, knowing you won’t have to get up uber early to leave the room before Angela wakes. No way she’s waking up from whatever hangover she’s about to suffer from anytime before lunch.

You wake with a start to a soft thud on the outside of your door. Probably someone drunk stumbling to their room.

“Shit,” you hear from the hallway along with a keycard hitting the tile floor. It’s Angela’s voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You look over to the clock. 3:43.

You are not letting this ruin your very peaceful slumber. You roll over and pretend you didn’t hear a thing. Surprisingly, falling back to sleep wasn’t a challenge. Must have taken her a while to figure out how to unlock the door completely wasted.

You feel your hand grab your own boob under your shirt. Your hips rock slowly into… something. The pressure between your legs grows. Your eyes open to a pitch black room. 4:17, the glowing red digital clock reads. Both of your hands are suddenly back to your sides. The wetness between your thighs is obvious. You’ve had sex dreams before, but this was different. There was no dream part. Out of nowhere, your body reacted. To something? You guess you bunched up part of your blanket in your sleep and shoved it between your legs.

There’s warmth still on your boob and when you go to touch it, you touch a hand. Your heartbeat quickens. Then you feel a body beside you, touching you, leaning against you to not fall off the twin size bed. You know who it is.

You gasp and raise yourself onto your elbows.

“What the fuck?” you whisper. You hate yourself for whispering. This is not a time to whisper.

She shushes you softly, moving her hand from your boob to your face. One finger presses over your lips.

“Don’t,” she whispers. “It’s ok.”

“What are you doing?” you say quietly, obeying her.

“I wanted to help,” she whispers into your ear before kissing your neck. Her hand goes between your legs, toying with the hem of your underwear. You never bunched together your blanket. Her hand’s been there before. How much before?

“I-I don’t-“ you start but cut yourself off with an unintentional moan as she pulls a finger up over your clothed clit.

“Wait, stop,” you try.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” she hums into your neck.

“Y-Yes I do-“ you moan again.

“Fuck, stop it,” you try to sit up, pushing her hand away with one of yours. You’re out of breath and so insanely turned on.

She places her hand on your inner thigh.

“Y/n, let me help you. I’ve seen the way you look at me,” she swipes her tongue from the base of your neck to your ear. “I’m doing this for you. It will be quick, I bet you won’t last long.” Her breath is directly on your ear, her hot, hot breath. There’s a faint smell of alcohol coming from her.

“Angela, I don’t-“ you want to say you don’t want her to but yes you do. She’s ever so slightly pulling your thigh, spreading your legs, and you clench around nothing.

“Say the word ‘no’ and I’ll go to bed,” her hand squeezes your inner thigh.

“I-“ you moan again.

“Mmm, what was that?” she teases, licking your neck again.

“God, just fucking do it,” you say. It felt like another person said it. But you know it was you because her fingers push your underwear to the side and she plunges a finger deep inside you.

You swallow, hard.

She wiggles the tip of her finger against your g-spot and you grasp her wrist. You push her in deeper.

“Angela, more,” your whispers are strained.

“How can I deny you?” she whispers back. She adds another finger and roughly pushes into you to her knuckles. She leaves her fingers there for a moment. Her fingers are larger than yours, that’s for sure. Your knees threaten to close.

All while leaving her fingers inside you, she positions herself between your thighs with her other elbow next to your head to keep herself up right.

“Does that feel good?” she asks, the streetlight reflects off her big brown eyes that now look down at you.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper.

“You’re going so good, honey,” she says as she starts to finally thrust her fingers in and out. Her wrist lines up with her pelvis so she begins using her hips as well, to drive her fingers into you. The palm of her hand digs into your clit with every thrust.

The bed begins to make the smallest thump against the wall behind it.

You’ve never felt your g-spot and clit be used at the same time and it’s making you crazy. The leans all her body weight into you creating the best pressure imaginable. Her mouth surely leaving marks along your neck.

“I think I’m-“ you try but it comes out as a moan.

“It’s ok,” Angela whispers without relenting her pace. “You can come, y/n.”

“Fuck, Angela,” your legs squeeze her waist and your hands scratch her back as you come. You grind into her, reveling in your aftershocks. Once you relax, she pulls out of you and brings her fingers to your lips. You take them into your mouth, licking between her fingers. She doesn’t break eye contact. You’ve tasted yourself before but never on someone else and you’ve obviously never had Angela’s fingers in your mouth before which is really what you’re loving about this.

Angela leans down to connect your lips, tongue darting between them. Your tongues meet and it’s like heaven. She pulls away and you’re certain you saw a string of spit in the faint streetlight.

“You kissed me,” you say softly.

She raises an eyebrow at you before flopping onto her back beside you. “Yeah, I also just fucked you, keep up,” she laughs.

You turn over to look at her silhouette. “Yes, but you didn’t while you were…”

“Fucking you,” she provides nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” you sigh and you are so glad there’s no light on. Your cheeks are undoubtedly bright red.

“Be grateful because I usually don’t kiss a girl until the third hookup,” she adds. Ah, there’s your roommate Angela.

You close your eyes, meditating for a moment instead of lecturing her on treating women with respect.

“Hey, so that was really hot and I’m really turned on now,” Angela says. “I don’t expect you to do the same for me, but would you mind if I took care of it? I can go to my bed-“

“Don’t go,” you cut her off.

She smiles a stupid half smile. “You can, y-you should,” you stutter. “I want you to do that… here… I want to watch.”

[sunnyy3d]

Felix fickelgruber being so touch starved, basically does everything for reader, male-housewife and very much buys too much for them but reader just wants him to love them back, yk? Reader just wants felix to love them back (no smut and just pure fluff) headcanons or a oneshot (or drabble?) Works

A/n: I'm gonna be honest, this isn't my best work. This is going in completely raw and not looked over at all... I just want to get it out... But this is my interpretation of this request, so I hope you enjoy! (Requests open!!!!)

Sweet | Felix Fickelgruber x Reader

You wake up to the wonderful smell of pancakes. You smile as you feel the bed dip, the smell accompanying your husband. Felix sets the tray of breakfast down as you continue to feign sleep. He moves a strand of hair out of your face before resting his hand on your waist. “Sweetheart, wake up.” You yawn before opening your eyes and rolling on your back.

You pull the plush comforter to your chest and smile up at him, “Good morning, darling. You’re up early.”

“I decided to wake up early so I could make you breakfast in bed. And after you finish your breakfast, I have a gift for you.”

You sit up, coming face to face with Felix. “You’re far too kind,” you commend, staring into his chocolate eyes.

Felix looks at you with wide eyes, shaking his head, “I’m just doing my husbandly duties, don’t judge my kindness based on this.” His eyes soften as you laugh and throw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. In return, he wraps his arms around your waist, savoring your touch.

Suddenly, you throw yourself and Felix back onto the bed, eliciting a yelp from him. “Are you kind enough to lay in bed and cuddle with your wife?” you question through giggles.

“Unfortunately I am not. I spent way too long on that breakfast for us to lay here and let it get cold, so I’ll have to suffer the scrutiny of the title,” he responds, voice muffled by your neck.

A moment of silence passes before you say something. “Well, I’m not letting go.” Felix’s chest deflates as he exhales and you hear a muffled “fine” before he struggles to get his arms out from beneath you. As he pulls his arms out, you continue to cling to him, and you wish you would’ve thought about throwing the blanket off so that you could wrap your legs around him. When Felix finally gets his arms free, he places them on the bed next to you. He attempts to push himself up, but you refuse to let go of his neck.

Abruptly, Felix drops on top of you. You let out an oof, the weight of him on you making you lose your breath. Before you have time to recover, he attacks your sides, brutally tickling you. It takes you a second to register what happened, but when you do, you quickly let go of his neck and try to push his hands away. Felix, however, is relentless. Gasping for air through laughs, you struggle to form a sentence. “Felix, please! I’m sorry we can eat breakfast, just stop tickling me.”

Hearing your pleas, Felix stops. Free from your grasp, he sits up and straddles your waist. “Good, because I can’t wait to reveal the surprise. Plus, we have a schedule to stick to today.” He leans forward and boops your nose. “No rush though.”

You smile sweetly up at him, “Can I at least get a kiss before breakfast?”

“Anything for you, dear. Just let me get off of you.” Felix sits himself on the bed beside you as you sit up. After the both of you are comfortable, you turn to Felix and give him a loving kiss. He immediately reciprocates, cupping your cheek in his hand. You nuzzle into his hand as you break the kiss. After a moment, Felix pulls away his hand and points at you. “Now eat your breakfast, I don’t want it to be bad because it’s cold.”

Listening to Felix, you reach over and grab the tray, setting it down on your lap. He made you chocolate chip pancakes with a glass of chocolate milk. Hastily, you grab the fork and take a bite of the pancakes. “These are delicious,” you moan. Felix smiles, accepting the compliment. The two of you continue to talk as you eat your breakfast, enjoying each other’s company.

After you take the last bite of your breakfast, you hear Felix slap his hands down on his legs. It was clear that while he didn’t want to rush you, he was excited to give you your gift and was waiting for you to finish eating. “Alright, it’s gift time! Just set the tray down and I’ll get it for you later. Close your eyes and I’ll be right back. Stay right there.”

“I’m excited,” you claim as you follow his instructions. You hear shuffling before feeling him leave the bed. You listen to his footsteps as he walks to the door.

You hear the door open, “Don’t peek, okay?” He waits for your okay before walking out. You wait for a couple of minutes before hearing him return. “Don’t open yet, just hold on,” he commands, quietly arranging the gifts.

A moment later you hear the shuffling stop. “Can I open my eyes now?” you question.

“Yes, love.” After his confirmation, you open your eyes to see a beautiful emerald gown laid out on the bed. Placed neatly next to it is a pair of golden heels, as well as a gorgeous set of emerald and gold jewelry.

You look up in awe at Felix, who is intently watching your reaction. “Felix, this is beautiful, thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” Felix dismisses. “We were invited to a gala this evening that I thought you might enjoy, so I did you a favor and picked out your outfit. I thought I’d save you the trouble so I picked out accessories as well! I’ve also got a reservation at your favorite so we can eat before the gala,” he says, gleaming.

“I love you so much,” you say, amazed. “How did I ever manage to get such a perfect husband?”

Felix blushes at your sudden confession. “It’s because you’re so sweet.”

[azul-marie]

leon. (brume)

fem. reader. angst, suggestive mentions.

your husband is a stranger.

the man you married months ago has been reduced to nothing, ground to bits, reborn as a soldier, a tool, a puppet. he is no longer yours; he will never be again.

the color of the sky, his eyes shone bright, now sullen and sunken with unspoken hurt. hollow cheeks from missed meals, dark bags from little sleep. of these things and more, he says nothing. shares nothing. and you let him be, out of love, out of fear, to keep the distance between the two of you from growing further apart.

nevertheless, he treats you much the same. still kisses you soft, still holds you close in all the ways he knows you like. but there is a new edge behind his movements. unfamiliar. paranoid. his hands, calloused in places they weren’t before, grip too tightly your own when you’re out and about. his unnerving stares towards alleys and doorways, his too quick response to his hip at every sound. was he always this way? or was it the city, the hell that brought it out?

leon, you’d whisper, come lay down and rest.

he listens. in the evenings he curls up next to you, lets your scent, your warmth, engulf him like a cloud. a tangible reminder of what he wants to protect. lets you tuck his face close up against your heart. he listens to its beating until it slows to a pulse, then slips away to stand guard at the front door again. and when you wake up alone in the dark, you pretend his version in your dreams sleeps soundly besides you.

leon, your arms hug around his waist, make love to me today.

he listens. be it by day or moonlight, he indulges you in every way you ask. his too rough hands grabbing, bruising, taut muscles grown slick with sweat and lips parting to kiss at your breasts. this body is unfamiliar, no matter the pleasure it brings. his newly assigned training, grueling and relentless, has wrung out every bit of softness he once had — he is sharp, cutting at your flesh, pulling and shaping you beyond what you knew. who is this stranger, loving you as he did? who is this man, whose dark eyes you avoid when he looks at you?

“leon,” you plead, sorrow in your throat, “please tell me you love me.”

he is quiet. stops stuffing his go-bag with mission ready supplies, beckoned by an early morning phone call before dawn even crackled through the sky. a part of him wishes to throw this godforsaken bag out the door, or crush his phone into the pavement and hope he finds a way to keep from being found. another wishes you’d just go back to sleep.

“you know i do.” he replies without turning around, voice heavy with a humorless sort of huff. a disbelieving sound. “don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“just tell me, please. say it before you go.” your voice breaks faintly at the end.

leon turns and peers so intensely at you that tears swell forth in your eyes. it prevents you from discerning his expression. was it one of pity? exasperation? you bury your face into your hands, woe bubbling up like a spring.

strong arms embrace you. whispers of affirmation dull against your sobs, against the outpour displaying your silent suffering. if only you could find comfort in this man’s arms. in the way he kisses your seasalt tears across your cheeks, how tenderly he runs his hands through your hair. through the blur, you see the youth of your love, the hopeful candor who was once your leon. when you blink, then blink again, it is the face of a jaded, somber man who gazes at you the same way he did, once upon a dream.

“i do. i swear i do.” leon insists. he presses kiss after kiss on every inch of your pretty face, unsure how else to soothe you. “you’re everything to me, remember? you’re why i’m still here. you’re all i have. please don’t cry, darling. i love you, i love you.”

you close your eyes. bask in the noise. if you try hard enough, you can still make out the soft cadence of your leon’s voice hidden beneath his baritone pain. but it’s not him, is it? it’s not anymore. try, try harder, and perhaps you’ll learn to love him like the leon he was before. maybe then his kisses wouldn’t feel like thorns, and his hugs wouldn’t choke you blue.

“i just want you back. that’s all i really want. please stay here, don’t leave me waiting alone.

oh, leon, please don’t go again.”

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Three: Harboring a Fugitive Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 10.3k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: Long haired Jimin, Strong language, blood, main character injured, main character beaten (not explicit), fighting, argument, near death experience, angst, fluff, backstory time, flashbacks, I’m putting PTSD on all of these because poor reader is suffering, I love Taehyung so much, I forgot how much I missed his playful attitude, brooding Jimin as always, crying, hurt/comfort, I hate Ahn, let me know if I missed anything A/N: This rewriting has been more fun than I thought it would be. I think the next chapter will have the most changes thus far, but I am still trying to keep everything as close as possible. Thanks for reading!

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I was jolted awake by a frantic pounding on the front door. My eyes cracked open, and the sting of exhaustion made them burn like hot coals. As I surveyed the room, I realized I’d been changed and cleaned, but Yoongi’s presence was conspicuously absent. Jimin, too, seemed to have vanished, though I couldn’t recall when Yoongi had arrived. Sleep was already slipping through my fingers, the relentless knocking dragging me back to wakefulness.

With a groan of protest from every muscle, I limped to the living room. Shiloh’s gentle breathing from her nest was the only sound beside the incessant banging. It struck me that she must have been utterly spent to have slept through it all. At last, I reached the door and threw it open, only to be greeted by one of the most heart-wrenching sights I’d seen in ages.

Kim Taehyung stood there, a broken mess. His hair was a tangle of knots and his body was a bruised and battered mosaic of purples and blues. I forced myself to straighten up, though my exhaustion made it a struggle. As I guided him inside, my heart shattered at the sound of his sobs.

Ahn had clearly done a number on him, and the rage that simmered beneath my surface was nearly overwhelming. But Taehyung was in no state to handle my fury. His suffering was both physical and emotional, and I needed to tend to him first. As he choked out the details of his ordeal, I listened with clenched teeth.

After we left, Ahn had dragged Taehyung into a secluded room at the palace, where the beating began. It was as if the old man believed he could pummel the boy into submission. The thought nearly made me scream. Soon, three others from the council joined in, and though some had protested, none had the courage to stand against it. Sol had been taken from him, her screams echoing in his ears.

“I’ve got your face,” I muttered, dipping back into a jar of salve. I’d already applied two jars to his face and neck. “Strip down. I need to check for infections.”

Taehyung nodded through his tears. I didn’t let myself stare too long, though it was impossible not to see the condition of his battered body. I focused on his stomach, my hands working with a rough, frustrated rhythm.

“I can’t believe this,” I grunted. “Why did you let them do this to you?”

Taehyung winced as I pressed too hard on a tender spot. “I didn’t want to fight,” he said. “I don’t want to rule with violence. Fighting and shouting… it’s uncivilized.”

I laughed, though it was devoid of humor. “So, you let them do whatever they want with you? You’d let them kill you?”

He was silent, unable to answer. 

“If you want to be taken seriously,” I said, opening another jar of salve and rubbing it into his chest, “you have to stand up for yourself. Your idea of civility doesn’t align with the old guard.”

Taehyung’s expression darkened, and he looked genuinely troubled. His naivety struck me hard, and I felt a surge of anger. If Ahn were here, I’d deal with him myself. How dare he orchestrate such cruelty? The thought of him parading around while a child suffered made my blood boil.

While I agreed with Taehyung’s ideals, the others would never accept them easily. He needed to fight if he wanted respect. Chief Ahn would never allow a different kind of leadership. My anger flared again—Kim Taehyung was far more worthy of leadership than that miserable excuse for a man. An epiphany hit me: no one else was as suited to rule Foxglove as Taehyung, with his diplomacy and kindness.

“I understand,” I said, wincing as Taehyung flinched away from my touch. “But you can’t let them push you around. Their views of manhood are archaic, and though your village knows it, fear makes people cling to the familiar. Ahn exploits that fear to boost his own ego.”

Taehyung’s gaze was inscrutable, his eyes following my every movement but revealing nothing. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully.

“I wanted to fight,” he confessed, his voice a whisper of shame. “I wanted to kill them all, but then they’d win. I’d become the man they wanted me to be, but the village would fear and resent me like they fear Ahn.”

His introspection was unexpected but not unwelcome. I’d never heard him speak with such depth before. His voice, deep and smooth like molasses, carried a melancholy tune. It was a stark contrast to his youthful charm, making me remember he’d only turned eighteen a month ago.

“Isn’t running away also letting them win?” I asked gently.

Taehyung sighed. “I had no choice. Ahn was trying to stir up enough trouble to force someone to challenge me for Sol. No one took the bait, so I managed to slip away. Jong-gyu helped me get out, and Eun-jin told our mother I was leaving.”

Taehyung’s siblings always seemed to feature in his stories, and their importance to him was clear. Jong-gyu, only eleven, and Eun-jin, just six, were his little anchors. The thought of them plotting an escape for their eldest brother was heartbreaking.

I wiped my hands on my nightgown and stood up. Taehyung was smeared in salve, and the bruises were already fading. His ribs would need more time, so I headed to the kitchen, searching for a healing potion. I didn’t have the energy to make one from scratch at this hour.

“Why did you come here?” I asked softly.

Taehyung sighed. “Because I knew you’d help me.”

The pity I felt for him returned with a vengeance. Imagining him hurt and abandoned, unable to trust anyone else, made my heart ache. I found an old potion in the back of a cupboard, checked its scent, and decided it was still good.

“You can stay as long as you need,” I said, handing him the potion. “Sol is my friend, and I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

Taehyung seemed relieved. He drank the potion, curled up on the couch, and was asleep almost immediately. The sight of him, so utterly exhausted, made me stifle a laugh. I began extinguishing the candles and tidying up the used salves. I’d need to prepare more soon.

Exhausted and still recovering from the ceremony, I dragged myself back to bed. Shiloh was waiting for me, her feathers ruffled in disapproval.

“How many times do I have to tell you to take your bedrest seriously?” she chided.

I groaned and collapsed into my bed. It was warm and inviting. Shiloh flapped to her nest, feathers drifting onto my sheets, but I ignored them. I was used to the constant cleaning by now.

“It was Taehyung,” I protested weakly.

“I don’t care if it was Fenrir himself at the door, you need to stay in bed—”

“Shiloh,” I warned, “Swîgian âstillian.”

The owl grumbled, but I was too far gone to listen.

The pounding at my front door was relentless, dragging me from a restless sleep. Groggy and stiff, I rolled over with a groan, my body protesting every move. Outside, a cacophony of angry voices pierced the morning quiet, and among them, someone was calling for Taehyung. That was the spark that ignited my fury. Furious and aching, I summoned my magic to lift myself out of bed and threw on my robe.

Taehyung was curled up in a tight ball in front of the sofa, barely stirring as I stormed past him to the door. Shiloh’s frantic screeches filled the air, demanding I retreat back to bed and let the wolves handle their own mess. But when their politics come knocking at my door, I had every right to give them a piece of my mind.

With a deep breath to steady my rage, I squared my shoulders and thrust my arms forward. The front door exploded off its hinges and crashed into whoever was standing behind it. Namjoon barely flinched as he shoved the door aside with a practiced swipe, his eyes wide with shock. But I wasn’t finished. I began to sing, a storm of objects swirling around the room in a chaotic dance. Namjoon staggered back, but this only fueled my anger further. Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos as a fierce blue flame erupted from my palm and hurtled towards the wolf.

“Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow?” I roared, the magic dissipating as my singing ceased. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hoseok and Jimin flanked their brother, their expressions a mix of concern and annoyance. I knew I’d regret attacking them eventually, probably the moment they left, but in this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to back down. No one was going to come here and intimidate me. The rational part of my brain screamed for me to stop, breathe, and listen, but the louder, angrier voice wanted to shatter them all. Taehyung had been battered and bleeding last night, and yet none of these so-called protectors had lifted a finger to help.

“Bridd—” Hoseok began.

I cut him off, my gaze locked on Namjoon. He stared at the ashen spot where the flames had struck, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. My anger burned hotter, and I felt a fresh wave of pain in my back—clearly, I had overextended myself with the magic. My body was struggling to heal, blood seeping from old wounds.

“Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes?” I roared, my eyes blazing. “Sol chose him. The Gods chose him! Do you think you’re somehow superior to them now? Are you so blinded by your precious Chief’s biases that you’d let this happen?”

Namjoon swallowed hard, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Of course not. I—”

“You listen to me,” I sneered, cutting him off. “If you ever have the audacity to come banging on my door again, I swear, I will not show you the same mercy.”

Namjoon stammered, unable to form a coherent response. I could feel my strength waning, the red haze in my vision receding. Shiloh’s persistent shouts to come inside and let Taehyung handle things himself were drowned out by my determination. No one else was here to protect him if things turned violent, and I’d never forgive myself for leaving him exposed. I stood tall, though my stance was more relaxed now, my anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“We’re here to speak with Taehyung,” Hoseok pleaded. “We have no intention of fighting with you or him. Namjoon needs to deliver a message.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Taehyung’s voice cut through the din. 

“I’m fine, Bridd,” he said, his tone calm but wary. He stayed behind me, peering cautiously at the intruders. “What’s the word?”

“Don’t be angry with me, cousin,” Namjoon began, stepping forward.

I instinctively moved to defend Taehyung, taking up a protective stance. Namjoon halted, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender while Hoseok stood beside him, and Jimin remained still, his gaze fixed on me with an unreadable expression. If I was thinking clearly, I might understand his wary posture, but in my agitated state, it only stung.

“I have challenged you,” Namjoon said, and all thoughts of Jimin vanished.

“Quare?” Taehyung’s voice was thick with disbelief and hurt. “What have I ever done to you?”

Namjoon’s expression softened, but I readied myself to protect Taehyung at all costs. No one was going to harm him—not while I had breath in my body. Sol was my friend, and I wouldn’t let anyone, especially not someone like Ahn, destroy their lives. I knew Namjoon well enough to anticipate his attempts to play both sides for peace, a trait I despised.

“So no one else would,” Namjoon said, trying to convince Taehyung. “We’re trying to buy time to come up with a plan. I swear, I have no intention of fighting you.”

“Putasne me stultum esse?” Taehyung hissed, his body radiating heat. “You’re trying to take Sol from me!”

Namjoon’s face went pale. I felt a surge of pride for Taehyung, agreeing with his rage. Namjoon’s arrogance, coupled with his obsession with Sol, made it hard to believe that the challenge was solely for Taehyung’s benefit. The other two wolves’ skeptical expressions confirmed my doubts.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Taehyung,” Namjoon pleaded, his agitation growing. “I mean what I say, even if you’re too dense to understand it.”

Taehyung growled, and I had to steady my racing heart. I needed to shield him inside. Namjoon could leave, and I would be exposed to the sun if he chose to exploit that. Still, I held my defensive posture. Taehyung was done talking, and both Hoseok and Namjoon waited for his next move.

Suddenly, Shiloh burst out of the house with a loud screech. The chaos unfolded in a flash. Shiloh lunged at Namjoon, who transformed into a wolf mid-air. Taehyung’s massive frame surged forward, and before I could react, I was thrust into the sunlight. My face slammed against the front steps, and the sun’s rays seared my back. Pain shot through my ankle as metal cut into my skin.

My skin felt like it was on fire. Screams erupted uncontrollably from my throat as I struggled to focus on Shiloh. I saw her turning towards me just as a large, russet wolf nudged her aside. Hands grabbed me, pulling me back inside. My body trembled with pain, my vision filled with white as I screamed. All around me, voices clashed, but the pain consumed me.

“Quid irrumabo facimus?” Hoseok shouted.

“Nescio,” Taehyung’s voice sounded choked with tears.

My eyes rolled back, the agony overwhelming my senses. The ceiling came into view as I raised a trembling hand. Black feathers had pierced through my skin, and I cried out in fresh distress.

“Recedite ab ea!” someone screamed, but the words were indistinguishable.

“Licuitne futura est?”

Something was happening nearby, but all I could focus on was the searing fire inside me. I knew the pain would eventually subside, but I needed something to help ease it. My mouth opened to speak, but only screams escaped.

“It burns,” I managed to grunt through the convulsions.

Hands touched me, but my vision blurred. Sleep was impossible, and my body was in its worst state yet. Between the ceremony, the magic use, and the sun exposure, I’d be out of commission for a week—or more.

“Move,” Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos.

Through my half-opened eyes, I saw not an owl but a radiant woman standing before me. Her fiery hair shimmered like it was underwater, and her skin glowed with a diamond-like brilliance. She looked like an ethereal vision, and I reached out to her. Her tears sparkled as she gently touched my hand.

“Slêpte,” she whispered, her fingers brushing my arm.

A wave of relief washed over me, and I sighed deeply. I closed my eyes, curling up next to Shiloh. Exhaustion hit me all at once, and I could hear growls and frantic voices, but they were far away. Someone was crying, but I was too tired to identify who it was.

“I’m going to put you to bed,” the woman whispered softly. “Where you belong.”

When I finally dragged myself back to consciousness, the smell of cooking food was like a beacon in a fog of confusion. I was back in my bed, with memories of the night before slipping through my fingers like sand. Shiloh had been there in her spirit form—so ethereal, so beautiful I imagined her future self would be just as mesmerizing. With a groan, I forced myself upright, my body protesting with every movement. No one would harm Taehyung while I still drew breath, and I clung to the hope that he was safe and sound somewhere in my house.

Stumbling into the kitchen, I grabbed the door frame for support. The stove was ablaze, a pot bubbling away on top, filling the room with the rich, smoky aroma of applewood. The kitchen sparkled, cleaner than it had ever been, as if someone had swept away not just dirt but the very chaos of my life. The scent of lemon mingled with the sharp tang of onions, a strange comfort in the midst of this turmoil.

“You should be in bed.”

The voice, coming out of nowhere, made me jump. I whipped around to find Jimin sprawled in my recliner, looking unusually somber. Taehyung stood by the fireplace, his gaze fixed on me with a mix of concern and something else I couldn’t quite place. Hoseok and Namjoon were absent, and my heart sank at the lack of familiar presence.

“Where’s Shiloh?” I demanded, stumbling forward and clutching the kitchen island.

Taehyung was at my side in an instant, his touch gentle but insistent. “Please, don’t push yourself, Bridd,” he said softly, guiding me to the small loveseat.

Jimin, ever the thoughtful one, draped a blanket over me as if I were a child. He must have been busy while I slept, rummaging through my things. Glancing at my hands, I saw the feathers had been replaced by jagged scars, a cruel reminder of the price I’d paid. My heart sank at the sight, a pang of sorrow tightening in my chest. Jimin’s hand covered mine, offering a silent comfort.

“She stepped out for a while,” Jimin said, his voice rough, like he’d been yelling. 

I remembered my anger towards him and Namjoon, but now it seemed distant, irrelevant. Seeing Jimin’s weary face, I knew he’d been affected deeply by the events. He was no longer the faceless alpha from my anger-fueled memories but someone I felt genuine empathy for. Taehyung’s presence, however, still rankled. Namjoon’s arrogance had hurt him deeply, and no matter his intentions, the challenge he issued had only made things worse.

“Is everyone alright?” I asked, trying to focus on the present.

Jimin shrugged, “Everyone but you. Namjoon and I had a disagreement before he left, but he’ll be fine.”

I scowled at Jimin. “I don’t like the idea of you fighting.”

Jimin’s grin was faint but reassuring. “Don’t worry, amica. I won.”

“Doesn’t change my feelings.” I grumbled, turning to look at Taehyung. His face was a mask of confusion, his eyes betraying an inner turmoil. The fleeting glances he shot between Jimin and me hinted at a struggle to make sense of it all. He winked at me, and I looked away, wondering if he’d caught onto my feelings.

Was it possible he had seen more than I intended? I knew Taehyung was perceptive, his mischievous nature hiding a sharp awareness. But right now, I was too exhausted to dwell on it. Jimin’s presence was a balm to my troubled mind.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay here until Taehyung decides what to do,” Jimin said, surprising me.

“What for?” I asked.

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Taehyung interjected. “I didn’t realize you were so close, and I was overwhelmed.”

I shook my head, dismissing his apology. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung scoffed. “You’re covered in scars because of my actions, and now my cousin is angry with all of us because of the fight. Hoseok said it’s best if we stay away from the village for a while. We can’t go back home.”

This news didn’t surprise me. I had no intention of letting Taehyung leave my cottage anytime soon, but Jimin’s exile was either a self-imposed punishment or Hoseok’s attempt to cool Namjoon’s temper. It made sense—challenging Taehyung was hardly a diplomatic move. 

Jimin suddenly produced a letter from his pocket, catching me off guard. “I found the letter your friend sent you.”

A spark of recognition flickered. “Wendy!” I exclaimed.

Jimin looked almost bashful, his discomfort evident. I tugged my arm free and hurried to my coat rack, desperate to retrieve the letter. But before I could make it, Taehyung’s arms encircled me.

“Taehyung, let me go,” I demanded, struggling against his hold.

“Sit. You’re hurt,” he pleaded, guiding me back to the sofa.

Frustrated, I bit his arm, causing him to yelp and release me. I landed on the floor with a thud, glaring up at him.

“This is ridiculous,” I complained. “You come into my home, rifle through my belongings, and now you won’t let me read my own letter? She’s my friend! If it’s important, I need to know.”

Jimin sighed, frustration etched into his features. “If you’d had a bit more patience, I could have handed it to you. It’s in my pocket.”

“If you’d just said that instead of staring at me like I’m an idiot—” I retorted, hobbling back to the sofa and grabbing the letter from his hands. “—I wouldn’t have gotten up.”

Jimin’s glare was sharp but silent. I settled into my spot, Taehyung’s weary gaze fixed on me. The need to apologize for my earlier actions was there, but I fought it. He had overstepped, and I had reacted. Still, the urge to make amends lingered.

The letter from Wendy was a balm to my troubled thoughts. Her words painted a picture of her own struggles, and as I read, my heart sank. She was thinking about not coming back hom after her sister’s wedding. She didn’t think Jin would take her back and that she had ruined his and Yoongi’s friendship. Shiloh must have gone to find her after reading the letter. I mentally thanked her and began to draft a reply.

Wendy, darling,

I’m relieved to hear from you. The events here in Bangtan have been tumultuous, and I’ve hardly had a moment to breathe. The ceremony has left me weary, and I hope you can help me unwind once you return. 

Forget the fools who have caused you distress. Remember the things that truly matter: your mother, the sisterhood, the coven, and the forest. No one else can tame a magindara or purify the sea like you. Don’t let trivial matters deter you from enjoying life. I’m thrilled about Nixie’s engagement and wish I could be there with her.

But life has charted a different course for both of us. I’m scared, Wendy—every day brings new fears—but I embrace it all, the sunshine, the flowers, the wind. As Aldara said, “Fear reminds us that we’re alive.” So, don’t give up just yet. Keep swimming and return home. Talk to Seokjin; he will understand. Yoongi holds no ill will. Release your fantasies and root yourself in reality.

We’ve all made mistakes, but we can mend our friendships if nothing else. If you truly wish to be with Jin, then go for it. He has long pursued you while you focused elsewhere. I want our circle whole again, with everyone finding their happiness. So go ahead. Even if I’m afraid, you need not be.

Missing you dearly,

B

I watched as the letter dried, my body easing into a more bearable state. With renewed energy, I rummaged for an envelope. Shiloh would usually handle sending things, but I was alone in this. Grabbing my ceremonial bag, I sifted through it until I found my meteor powder. Taking a deep breath, I began sketching Wendy’s face. My hand moved with practiced ease, though my heart pounded with anxiety. 

With a final incantation, I threw the powder onto the parchment. The paper vanished in an instant. I mumbled a hope that it reached her safely.

“That was so cool!” Taehyung’s voice broke my reverie.

I chuckled. “Not as cool as my own magic, but it will have to do. I can hardly feel anything in my body.”

Returning to the couch, I curled up beside Jimin. He looked worried, a sentiment I hadn’t expected from him. I had probably done more harm than good with my earlier actions, but for now, I would let it be. 

“She seemed upset,” Jimin said, his voice laced with concern. “I hadn’t realized your friends were involved in this way.”

I was taken aback by his empathy. “It’s been a thing since we were children. Don’t worry too much; she’ll come back, and they’ll figure it out.”

“Why aren’t they together now?” Taehyung asked.

“Because,” I sighed, “they don’t truly know what they want.”

Jimin served us a bowl of cabbage stew, plain but comforting. As I ate, I drifted into a restless sleep on the small couch, the unsettling dream I woke from fading as Jimin gently returned me to bed. I didn’t wake again until after sunset, finding solace in the quiet as the world outside continued its chaotic spin.

Taehyung was a surprising guest. He took care of the space, cleaned up after himself, and was generally a delight to have around. He was like a new breed of house guest, one who didn’t leave a trail of destruction in his wake. The supplies I had been sending to Foxglove had stopped—something Taehyung and Jimin didn't quite agree with, but that was their problem. They didn’t deserve my help if they were going to squander it. No one had come for anything lately, leading me to believe they were either boycotting my services or simply too intimidated by the presence of the wolves to make an appearance.

Wendy’s letter arrived the next morning, confirming she was on her way back. She’d even written to Jin, though I could only guess what she had said. Seokjin was notorious for spilling secrets, so I expected to hear all about it sooner or later.

I took a deep breath, opening my eyes to the sight of my altar. My magic had returned a few days ago, but I’d let it rest. Today was the first time I’d performed a ritual spell in days. I glanced over my shoulder, offering a soft smile to Jimin, who was napping on my sofa.

Our conversations since that night had been sparse, but Jimin was doing his best to help Taehyung devise a plan to win over the town. I thought it was a foolish endeavor, but I supported it nonetheless. Jimin’s reputation in the community was invaluable, and having him on Taehyung’s side significantly boosted his chances. I knew the pack missed both of them, and I hoped Namjoon would make an appearance soon. We had much to discuss, and I wanted to apologize for my loud outburst. No matter what anyone else said, I took much of the blame for that disastrous encounter.

“What’s a cah-dee-jo?” Taehyung’s voice cut through my thoughts, loud and inquisitive.

“A cadejo,” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “are spirits that guide worthy travelers.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not worthy?”

“They’ll eat them,” I replied with an ease that bordered on nonchalance.

Taehyung had taken a keen interest in my books after discovering something I’d written about the magindara as a child. He devoured them so quickly that I found myself fetching more from the cellar just to keep up. Despite his naivety, Taehyung was a bright young man with an insatiable curiosity. He never settled for a single answer and listened with rapt attention.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why not?”

Taehyung fell silent, returning to his reading. I found myself growing fond of him, wishing he could go back home. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings tugged at my heart. His parents must be in a constant state of worry.

After spending most of the morning sitting, I decided to make lunch. Shiloh was due back later that day. Wendy had mentioned that my familiar had arrived at her inn just before sending the letter, so I knew Shiloh was safe. Thinking about her stirred a mix of emotions in me. Exposing her spirit form was a dangerous risk, one I’d never have asked of her, but she had done it anyway.

I approached the kitchen window, whistling loudly as I began pulling out a pot and pan. Tomato soup seemed like the perfect choice, and I could whip up a quick loaf of bread to go with it. Moments later, Delinah appeared at my window. I glanced up from dicing onions, smiling at the deer.

“Morning, Dee,” I greeted.

She dipped her head. “Glad to see you up and about. You gave us all quite a scare.”

I hummed in response, tossing the onions into the pot along with three heads of garlic, some fresh herbs, and a splash of oil. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jimin stirring on the sofa.

“I’m as good as new,” I joked, using a spell to light the stove. “Would you mind fetching some tomatoes from Seokjin’s garden? I’d ask Shiloh, but she’s out of the forest for the day.”

“Where did she go?” Delinah asked, tugging the cloth tote from the windowsill with her mouth.

“Northorn,” I replied.

“Northorn? What’s so important in that dreadful place?”

I laughed, helping her secure the tote around her neck. Delinah nuzzled my hands, and I promised her carrots upon her return.

“To answer your question,” I said, returning to the counter, “Wendy’s trying to run away, so Shiloh’s bringing her back.”

Delinah laughed, “Oh, that Wendy Byrd. She’s a wild card, that one.”

“But we love her.”

Jimin got up as soon as Delinah left, and Taehyung remained engrossed in my book about magical beasts. I took over the task of roasting onions and garlic, letting them caramelize over the open flame. The tomatoes would soon follow. I could hear the two men conversing quietly, but I chose to ignore them. Privacy in this house was a rare luxury.

Delinah returned swiftly, and I sent her off with a bundle of carrots. After roasting the tomatoes, I used my pestle and mortar to blend everything into a smooth puree before adding it to the pot.

“Bridd,” Taehyung called out. “Can I get your opinion on something?”

I nodded. “Ask away.”

“I want to write a letter to Namjoon, but I’m unsure how he’d take it.”

I paused, contemplating. A letter might not help much. Ahn and his tricks made it unlikely that any letter would reach Namjoon. With people actively looking for him, showing his face might only stir up more trouble. Namjoon’s challenge was official, and only revoking it would end the conflict. I had faith in Taehyung’s ability to defend himself if necessary, though his reluctance to fight was apparent. Namjoon’s determination was formidable, but I doubted it would come to a lethal confrontation.

“I don’t think it would help much,” I said. “You know Ahn’s methods. A letter might not even get through.”

Taehyung sighed in defeat, and I felt a pang of sympathy. I understood his predicament all too well. I remembered Aldara’s lessons in defensive magic, though I had never been able to strike her. It wasn’t until that fateful night that I realized my potential for harm. I shuddered at the thought, wishing no one, especially Taehyung, had to face such a fate.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I said, mixing the soup.

“Me too,” Taehyung replied.

We ate lunch in silence. Jimin was unusually quiet, his mind clearly occupied. Being away from his pack for three days must have been weighing on him. Wolves were creatures of family, and the silence must have been particularly hard for him.

Taehyung didn’t ask anything more after that. He spent the rest of the day sprawled on the floor by the fireplace, devouring book after book, while Jimin gazed out of the windows and scribbled in a journal. They stayed inside, avoiding the outdoors. I managed to complete a few chores, practice some new spells, and jot down notes in my grimoire. The atmosphere was stifling, and it wasn’t until Shiloh returned at sunset that the house stirred with activity.

In a flurry of feathers and screeches, the barn owl flew through my bedroom window, her voice echoing off the walls. I hastily threw my pen onto my grimoire, the black ink smearing across the pages in a ruinous streak. I didn’t care; Shiloh was back, and that was enough.

“Between those wolves and you witches,” she complained, “I’ll never catch a break.”

“Oh, Shiloh,” I cooed, opening my arms to her.

My familiar dove into my embrace, letting herself be fussed over. I petted her head, smoothing down her feathers. She leaned into my touches, and I couldn’t recall the last time I had smiled so broadly.

“You’re so strong and mighty, little one. I missed you dearly.”

She laughed, “I’m glad to see you up and moving again.”

“Where’s Wendy?” I asked, releasing her from my hug.

Shiloh flew into the kitchen, and I followed. She pecked at the leftover bread from lunch and took note of the wolves still lounging in the living room. She seemed pleased they were still there and gave a nod of approval to Taehyung. I chuckled at her antics.

“She’ll be back after her sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, wonderful!” I clapped my hands together in delight.

“Another pain in my ass,” Shiloh muttered.

And I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Transformation was always an adjustment. Even now, after all this time, I still felt disoriented by the process. On Taehyung’s first night here, he nearly broke down my bedroom door in his panic to check on me. If Jimin hadn’t reassured him, I was sure Taehyung would have been deeply traumatized. Tonight was the fourth night, and Taehyung slept soundly through my night terrors. Shiloh had gone to bed early, leaving Jimin as the only one awake when I flew in through the kitchen window.

He wore the same clothes he had for days—something I had hand-washed twice but he refused to part with. I had made clothes for Taehyung, but Jimin’s

 rejection of them stung. I never brought it up again, simply washing and magically drying them. Tonight, Jimin had removed his usual long cape, his socks and shoes were missing, and his belt was nowhere to be seen. His hair fell loose, cascading to his waist, and a simple headband kept his bangs out of his eyes. He sat at the kitchen island, engrossed in whatever he was writing.

“Hello,” he greeted, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He looked worn out, more so than usual, and Taehyung snored loudly on the floor, rolling over without a care. Jimin continued to scribble on the papers, unperturbed. I hopped closer and peered at the writing, recognizing the familiar scrawl.

It was the paper I had used during my visit a few weeks ago. Seeing it brought a wave of emotions, my heart swelling with affection. The fact that he had kept it, carried it around, left me breathless.

I’m feeling better.

Not if it’s something you like.

I love blueberries.

You did nothing wrong, Alpha. I promise.

“It brings me comfort,” Jimin whispered, his voice trembling in the dim moonlight. “Knowing that you’re out there.”

I turned toward him and saw the tears streaming down his face, illuminated by the pale, ethereal glow of the moon. For the first time since I’d known him, there was a clarity in my own heart. I fluttered my wings and landed softly in his lap, pressing my face against his stomach. The warmth within me radiated, and I could feel the tension in his body slowly dissolve.

He clutched me tightly, his sobs coming in ragged gasps. What sorrow gnawed at him, I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was clear it had something to do with the turmoil around us. I melted into his embrace, his openness a balm to my weary spirit. I found myself yearning for him to hold me as a lover would, but I pushed the thought aside. Greed felt like a bitter pill to swallow, especially when it came to the emotional exchange I saw before me.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I understand them both, know that neither of them are happy with the way they left things, but I can’t do anything about it. I don’t want to leave Taehyung, but I don’t want to watch my friends tear each other apart over a misunderstanding.”

And oh, how angry I was with Namjoon, how much I wanted to slam him against a wall and scream until my lungs bled. But the truth was, I didn’t wish him dead. We were friends, after all, even if it was a strained, bloody friendship. The alpha allowed himself only two minutes of tears before he wiped his face and set me gently back on the island. He apologized profusely, his voice hoarse and filled with regret before he left the cottage, seeking the solace of the night.

I wanted to follow him, but I knew he needed his space. I glanced at the letter at my feet, feeling a shift in my resolve. What if a letter was considered offensive? They had beaten Taehyung senseless, exiled him, and made his family think he needed to be challenged to keep the pack in line. If a simple letter was the spark that ignited their fury, then I was ready to be the villain. I knew the chances of someone else intercepting Namjoon’s letter were high, but I had to try. I couldn’t bear to see Jimin’s tears again. 

Resolute, I gathered paper and ink, and began to write.

“Y/N,” Auntie whispered, her fingers tangling gently in my hair.

The sun was just a whisper on the horizon, the sky still a deep shade of purple. I struggled to pry my eyes open, moaning as I rubbed my face. Another yawn escaped me, my eyes fluttering shut once more.

Aldara chuckled softly, “Wake up, sleepyhead. Let’s make breakfast together.”

I shook my head, flipping over the pancake on the stove. In the dining room, Taehyung, Jimin, and the witches discussed the best fishing spots in Bangtan. Seokjin and Yoongi had dropped by unannounced, and while I was puzzled by their sudden visit, I assumed it had something to do with Wendy. Jin looked surprised by the presence of the wolves and asked to speak with me privately once breakfast was over. I heard Taehyung questioning whether vegan pancakes could taste good, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I had adopted a vegetarian diet after Aldara passed. With the inability to leave my home, meat became a distant memory. Four years ago, after growing closer with the critters around me, I’d eliminated animal products entirely. It felt wrong to consume a creature I could have known.

“They’re not that different from ‘normal’ ones,” I explained, plating the fresh pancake. “I just use oat flour, bananas, and flaxseeds mixed with water. Everything else is the same.”

I could imagine Taehyung’s disgusted face, though it was hidden from view. His expressions of confusion, disgust, and anger were all shades of the same emotion. Yoongi laughed, and it brought a smile to my face. Yoongi and I shared similar lifestyle choices, though he indulged in fish with Seokjin from time to time.

“Why mix flaxseeds and water?” Taehyung asked, his bewilderment dripping from every word.

I handed him a plate, “It replaces the egg. You mix it with the banana and let it sit to thicken. A boy named Enver taught me. He lives in Moland and doesn’t have regular market access.”

Jimin’s curiosity perked up, “How do you get your supplies?”

“I go often,” Seokjin answered. “I always pick up things for Yoongi and Y/N when I go. Yoongi does the same.”

I nodded, “I have great friends.”

After breakfast, Yoongi invited Taehyung and Jimin for a walk in the forest. Taehyung’s newfound fascination with the local beings had piqued Yoongi’s interest, and he offered to show him a jackalope borough nearby. Jimin chose to join them to keep an eye on Taehyung. I could tell he was giving Seokjin and me the space to talk. As they left, I began clearing the dishes with Jin’s help.

We worked in silence, the rhythm of our tasks speaking volumes. Jin’s hesitation was palpable, a strange thing for someone so usually forthright. His mouth opened and closed as if he was trying to find the right words, but I remained patient. Wendy had a knack for throwing him off balance, and it was evident in his struggle to articulate his thoughts. 

Once the dishes were done, I wiped down the table and put away the toppings. Jin lingered, focusing on the dishes while I finished. Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence.

“Wendy wrote to me,” he said quietly.

I hummed, not quite ready to delve into the contents of her letter. Privacy was paramount, and I kept many things to myself. We were all too intertwined, and Wendy’s tendency to overshare made things complicated. Seokjin’s habit of spilling secrets didn’t help either. 

“She said she wants to be with me,” he continued.

I sighed, “How do you feel about that?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking lost. “It’s… complicated.”

I perched on the kitchen island, nodding, “I’m sure I can keep up.”

“For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve liked her in some way,” Jin said, his voice tinged with regret. “She’s never really felt the same about me, at least not as much as I liked her.”

Wendy had always looked away, said one thing and done another, never fully opening her heart to Jin. She admitted liking him, but her gaze often wandered to Yoongi. Initially, I thought Seokjin was reading too much into it, but the pattern was clear. Wendy’s infatuation with Yoongi had always overshadowed her relationships with others, including Jin. 

“I knew she meant it when she said she liked me,” he said. “But how can I be sure she’s serious this time? She’s been away, hasn’t seen anyone in months, and now she says she’s in love with me. What happens when she sees Yoongi again? Will her feelings still hold?”

I felt a pang of sympathy for Seokjin. His heart was true, but his seclusion had left him vulnerable. The world outside Bangtan was vast and filled with possibilities. Telling him there were other options wouldn’t help, though. 

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” he whispered.

“I know,” I replied, holding him gently. “I wouldn’t want that either.”

“How can I trust her words?”

I shook my head, “I’ve always seen you two as stubborn. You care deeply, but the toxicity is unbearable. If you want to try, see what happens. Maybe her time away or seeing her sister’s wedding changed her. Think about what she said and how it resonates with your own feelings.”

“She said she loves me,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice. “She said that after talking to you, she felt more confident to speak to me. It was the first time I felt her apology was genuine.”

Silence enveloped us as Seokjin looked down, deep in thought. After a moment, he asked to borrow paper and a pen. I obliged, hoping for a resolution that would bring him some peace. 

He sent off his letter soon after. I resumed sweeping and planning the day, knowing I had to address the supply chain blockage to the sea coven. With Shiloh still recovering from her trip, I would need to wake her for the delivery. Seokjin agreed to write to Cordelia to see if anyone could pick up the supplies. 

In the rare moment of quiet, I could sense Seokjin’s anxiety. I feared the worst but gave him the space he needed. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked.

“I rejected her,” he said.

“Oh, Jinnie,” I cooed, embracing him. “That was a hard choice, but I’m proud of you. You did what was right for yourself.”

“I can’t do it again,” he sobbed. “I just can’t.”

I understood his pain. Wendy’s emotions would simmer, and I’d deal with her later. Seokjin had alluded to remaining friends, but I knew it was a fragile hope. The past had carved deep scars, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe things could return to how they once were. Still, I hoped for growth and reconciliation, even if it seemed unlikely. 

“I know. I know,” I whispered, soothing him. “We’ll get through this.”

Seokjin clung to me, crying as if his heart would break.

For the next three days, Jimin and Taehyung began to drift further from the confines of the house, venturing into the outside world with an almost frantic urgency. I hadn't heard a word from Wendy or Seokjin, but Yoongi made sure to check in daily. He was obsessed with the idea that I might be facing another unexpected encounter with the wolves, a notion I couldn't entirely dismiss but was resolutely prepared for. It felt as if Hoseok was staying clear to maintain some uneasy peace, though Jimin hinted that he was trying to sway Namjoon. So far, that attempt had fizzled, with Namjoon remaining as grumpy and resentful as ever. Taehyung, on the other hand, was steeling himself for a potential clash, spending his evenings in intense sparring sessions with Jimin.

Shiloh's waking hours had been creeping earlier each day. It wasn't the ungodly hours I was accustomed to, but noon was a far cry from eleven at night. Taehyung and Jimin were still grappling with my late risings. My magic, potent yet taxing, was stretching my limits, and I could sense my body struggling to keep up. My childhood had taught me that magic was a draining force, especially defensive spells. The incident with Namjoon had thrown me off balance, making it difficult to regain my footing.

Aldara used to fret over my fainting spells after our lessons. She said it was unnatural for a witch to be so overwhelmed by their own power, but over the years, I’d come to understand that my magic was an endless well, ever-flowing and never entirely under my control. Unlike other witches, who could regulate their magic output, I was left perpetually vulnerable and weakened. The constant possession and lack of control were the harsh trade-offs of my power. Still, a small outburst no longer left me as depleted as it once did. The last time I’d fainted from magic was the night I discovered the cottage on fire.

As I thumbed through my grimoire, searching for the potion I’d made to reduce anxiety, frustration gnawed at me. Wendy was due back tomorrow, and Cordelia had asked if I could send some to Syrena. I’d only brewed this particular potion twice, and it was still too fresh in my memory for me to recall the exact details. Wendy’s luck would have it that I’d send a shifting potion instead of a mood stabilizer, but I trusted Griselda’s recipe.

My worry for Wendy was growing. Though it was normal to go weeks without communication, I feared she might be upset over the situation with Jin. She must have suspected we’d talked and perhaps thought I’d instructed him on what to do. Or worse, she might have convinced herself that Yoongi had something to do with it. Wendy had a tendency to skew reality, and while I empathized with her, I refused to choose sides between my friends. I loved and respected them both and wished desperately to extricate myself from this web of conflict. After all, Wendy was the one who’d divulged our conversation to Jin in the first place.

My search for the potion left me exasperated. The cluttered chaos of my notes and haphazard scrawl made me wish for a clean slate. Whoever would inherit this mess of a grimoire would need a Rosetta Stone just to decipher half of it. In frustration, I slammed the book shut and decided to write to Enver. He was the only witch I knew who might have such a potion on hand. Rolling the paper carefully, I chanted a spell I’d learned from Pippa’s grimoire and watched as the paper turned to ash and vanished.

Pippa was a true oddball, her methods unorthodox to the point of absurdity. Her spellbooks, filled with incomprehensible diagrams and bizarre ingredients, were a testament to her brilliance. Aldara had always teased me about my fascination with Pippa, calling me the next “nutcase” and mocking my own disorganized grimoire. Still, no one could deny Pippa’s talent. The spell I’d used was a favorite of mine—simple, minimal energy expenditure, and highly effective. I was grateful to be done with meteor powder, even if I had invented that one myself.

The front door slammed open, jolting me upright and sending my heart into a racing frenzy. For a split second, my vision swam in black and white, but I quickly regained my composure. I shot a venomous glare at Taehyung as he swaggered into the cottage, followed closely by Jimin, who offered a sheepish bow before entering.

“It’s such a beautiful day!” Taehyung announced, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic flourish.

My eye twitched.

“Try that again,” I said with icy detachment.

Taehyung’s confusion was palpable. Jimin stood in the doorway, an amused smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lingering on me. I struggled to keep my eyes from lingering on his toned back and refocused on Taehyung.

“Try what again?” Taehyung asked, genuinely bewildered.

“Walking into my house like a civilized person,” I retorted. “You act as if you’ve never been taught manners. First, you put your filthy, muddy boots on my counter, and now this? Thin ice, Tae. Thin ice.”

Taehyung scratched his head sheepishly and made the necessary adjustments, gently opening and closing the door. Satisfied, I hummed and returned to my grimoire, mentally cursing the disorganized mess it had become. I longed to slap the younger version of myself who had thought this system would work. Groaning, I stood up and decided to relocate my work to the cellar.

“What are you looking for?” Taehyung asked, his face lighting up with curiosity.

The wolf enjoyed accompanying me and peering over my shoulder, even if he barely understood the Latin script. Jimin hadn’t asked to join but I suspected his silence was his way of being considerate. I wished he would just speak up.

“I need to find a spell for a friend,” I said. “One I wrote when I was twelve. It’s hardly legible now, a testament to my childish carelessness.”

Taehyung laughed and followed me without hesitation. His curiosity was endearing, a stark contrast to Jimin’s restrained demeanor. I wondered about their own childhoods—Jimin had been brave and reserved when we first met, his innocence a distant memory now. Seeing him again, after all these years, was like rediscovering a forgotten chapter of my own life.

“May I join you?”

I paused and looked up at Jimin, who had already begun descending the stairs behind Taehyung. I nodded. The connection we had shared the other night was still fresh, unspoken but undeniable. Jimin’s presence felt like a gentle thawing of the ice that had previously encased him.

After lighting the sconces in the cellar, I found Taehyung curled up in a corner, absorbed in one of Aldara’s monster books. She had been a legend in her own right— the first to defeat a Quietus, the monster slayer of yore. Her stories had become folklore, tales of bravery and struggle. The book Taehyung was engrossed in was one of her own, a collection of short stories about her adventures.

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Jimin whispered.

“It grows whenever we need a new bookcase,” I replied.

Jimin didn’t press for more details, his restraint a byproduct of the alpha etiquette he’d been taught. Taehyung, however, was a novice in those lessons, having barely started them before his exile. I sighed, thinking of Namjoon and my unanswered letter.

“Who was the first Bridd?” Jimin asked.

I smiled as I recalled the tale. “Her name was Rosette.”

“How did this family tradition even start?” Taehyung asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Settling into my small desk, I gestured for them to sit. I remembered Aldara’s stories vividly, her hands large and comforting as she spoke of Rosette, the legendary Bridd. Rosette was a figure of beauty and resilience, her story a foundation for our lineage.

“Rosette came from the Foxglove Village, a place once teeming with shifters. She was the daughter of a merchant, loved and admired by all. Life was harsh in Bangtan, but relatively peaceful until the Quietus stories began spreading south.”

Quietus, those ancient air elementals, were the first settlers of Lustra, driven out by the Sarkans over a millennium ago. The attack on Bangtan was retribution for not aiding them, though they had soon reclaimed their territory.

“After the Century War with Etelin, the Quietus were reduced to living in swamps, their numbers dwindling. The few that ventured into the forest were either vengeful survivors or driven mad by starvation.”

Jimin’s expression showed recognition, while Taehyung remained enraptured. I continued, my voice carrying the weight of history.

“These creatures were unknown to the shifters, whose people had only arrived in Lustra after their island was destroyed. Their treaties were new, their numbers sparse. They had no knowledge of the siege until their village was ablaze.”

“The Quietus queen, Nerezza, had lost her youngest child to the Sarkan invasion. Her grief drove her to attack, wrongly believing the Reikans were complicit. In truth, the Reikans were skittish, lacking the courage for true conflict.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung interrupted, defensive of his ancestors.

“Yes,” I said, “your ancestors were strong, surviving the loss of their homeland and finding refuge here. But the Reikans were different, their settlers blending into your cultures, while the Quietus were formidable. Only one emerged as significant.”

“Rosette,” Jimin murmured.

“Yes, Rosette. A beautiful girl, her blonde hair and green eyes striking. She was a bird shifter in love with a fox. At just sixteen, she and a few others escaped the village’s destruction. Rosette, familiar with military strategies, directed them to safety.”

“She found herself in this very clearing, calling to the gods for aid. Despite the blizzard, she was enveloped in warmth. The gods offered her help in exchange for a solemn promise. She vowed to protect her sister’s life and, in return, her bloodline would become guardians of the forest.”

“And that’s when we lost our freedom,” I continued. “She woke up in this cottage, chained and imbued with new magic. After a century of solitude, she was given Jordana. We’re assigned a pupil and have sixteen years to train them before our transition to the spirit world.”

“Why can’t you shift freely, then?” Taehyung asked, curiosity piqued. Jimin smacked his arm, but I waved off the gesture.

No harm in asking.

“Our transformations are tied to the cycles of the sun and moon. The gods have a special fondness for watching us dance across the skies, like wayward comets caught in their eternal dance. We’re fortunate we managed to keep that part of ourselves as part of the bargain. Magic and shifting? They’re practically myths beyond these woods.”

Taehyung’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Is it the same for real werewolves? The sun and moon stuff?”

I let out a laugh, sharp and dismissive. “No, silly. Werewolves are shackled to the full moon. Their first transformation turns them into mindless beasts. They’re as good as dead within three months. Nothing like what you and I are.”

Taehyung seemed mollified by this explanation. He often referred to himself as a werewolf, much to Jimin’s annoyance. I understood why Jimin would bristle at that. Real werewolves were born into their condition, their bloodlines ancient and unbroken. Werewolves, on the other hand, were made, not born, and their kind was dwindling in the Ozryn Mountains, starved out and hunted down. The last outbreak had been decades ago, swiftly contained by the dwarves of Idris.

When the story ended, Taehyung returned to his reverie with Aldara’s book, and I resumed my fruitless search for that infuriating potion. I hadn’t heard back from Enver; his response times were always abysmal.

Jimin wandered the cellar, tracing the spines of the books. The sheer volume was staggering. Aldara had penned over forty grimoires in her lifetime, each a testament to her expertise in defensive magic. Rosette had authored 120, Jordana had 205, and Griselda held the record with 223. I could hardly fathom such productivity. I’d managed only three grimoires so far, and was plodding along on a fourth. My youthful exuberance for magic seemed a distant memory now, replaced by a more somber approach. Overwhelmed by self-doubt, I decided to take a break.

“Your aunt was pretty amazing,” Taehyung remarked.

“Yeah, she was,” I replied, the word "was" hanging in the air like a specter.

As the evening darkened, we had spent hours in the cellar. Jimin skimmed through books with the quiet diligence of a scholar, while Taehyung absorbed stories from Aldara’s collection. I flipped through Pippa’s spell books, making small talk with Taehyung. His constant chatter was a refreshing distraction from the oppressive silence of the house.

Taehyung had gone up for a nap over an hour ago, leaving Jimin and me alone. He was huddled over a book, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue sticking out slightly. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, though he remained silent about my furtive glances. It was a rare sight to see him so relaxed, so unguarded. Shiloh had mentioned she was visiting Morla to update her on Wendy’s situation. Mumbling to myself, I let the pen and ink I’d brought down write in my spell book. Sometimes it was easier to let magic handle the tedious parts.

Amid the grimoires and dusty tomes, I made notes of potential experiments. They might not be as thrilling as Pippa’s wild concoctions or as direct as Griselda’s precise spells, but they were my own. I was rediscovering the joy of magic, a pleasure Aldara would have appreciated.

“Bridd?” Jimin’s voice broke the silence, soft and inviting.

I looked up, noticing how his hair caught the candlelight, turning dark gray with stray wisps floating around. I wanted to smooth them down, but restrained myself. Jimin’s expression was a carefully maintained mask, a necessity for someone in his position. Yet, I glimpsed a fleeting smile, a rare crack in his stoic facade.

“Why don’t you have anything here?” he asked.

“Everything I own is upstairs,” I answered. “It’s too much trouble to haul it all down here every time I need to work.”

He chuckled. “So, you do have a diary?”

I flushed. “All of us do. It’s the best way to keep track for our successors.”

I wouldn’t let him read mine. It was filled with thoughts I’d long preferred to forget. During my more turbulent years, I’d penned five separate volumes of angst and sorrow. The idea of anyone reading them—especially Jimin—was mortifying. They were raw, unfiltered, a record of my darkest fears and desires. Thankfully, they had gone unnoticed until now.

“Yours must be very interesting,” Jimin mused.

I shook my head. “Not really. Mostly just teenage angst. Nothing worth reading.”

I tried to sound convincing, but Jimin’s probing gaze made me uneasy. I began tidying up, stacking grimoires, knowing it was nearing sunset. I needed to get back to my room soon.

As I turned, Jimin’s arms encircled my waist, surprising me. My heart leaped into my throat. He was so close I could count the freckles on his nose, see the length of his eyelashes, feel his warm, heavy scent envelop me. His proximity was overwhelming. I gripped the desk, struggling to speak.

“Jimin?” I managed, my voice trembling.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

Our bodies pressed together, his hands behind my back, though his grip remained on the table. I glanced at his hands, one resting on the other. Shaking with nervous energy, I forced myself to meet his gaze.

“Can I?” His eyes were as dark and intense as a stormy night.

A shiver crawled up my spine. I nodded, breath catching in my throat. Jimin’s smile was tender, almost ethereal.

“I enjoy your company.”

I could only manage another nod, my heart pounding, my throat dry. Jimin’s face inched closer to mine. I held my breath, searching for meaning in his eyes. This was not the man who had been absorbed in reading moments before. This was something different, something potent and unsettling.

“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely audible.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his breath barely brushing my lips.

I knew I should have resisted, should have acknowledged the impossibility of our situation. Our lives were too tangled, our paths too divergent. He had a mate somewhere, and he’d forget me soon. Yet, despite all that, I shook my head.

“No.”

The kiss was unlike anything I’d ever known. Jimin’s lips were warm and insistent, igniting a fire within me. The heat was searing, electrifying, igniting every nerve ending. I clung to him, his embrace all-consuming. Everything I had feared, everything I had regretted, melted away. It didn’t matter anymore. Jimin was here, and he was mine.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze was soft, full of warmth and care. He nuzzled into my hairline, his touch a balm against the chaos. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I was dazed but managed to nod. As if drawn by an invisible force, I sought his lips again. Jimin’s hands cradled my face, pulling me closer. Any gentleness evaporated when my tongue brushed his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled from him as he hungrily explored my mouth. His grip tightened, his leg gently prying mine apart, lifting me onto the desk. My fingers dug into his shirt.

A sudden chill shot through me, yanking me out of the haze of passion. I pulled away, and Jimin stepped back, understanding dawning in his eyes. I choked out a “go” and stood up from the desk. The first feather burst through my skin as Jimin fled the cellar, leaving me alone with my searing heart and the cold void of my own fear.

Translations:

Swîgian âstillian. - Be quiet.

Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow? - How dare you?

Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes? - Who do you people think you are?

Yfel am sorig. - I am so sorry.

Thither is êower hygd? - Where is your mind?

Belāda mē - Sorry.

Quare? - Why?

Putasne me stultum esse? - Do you think I'm stupid?

Sol a me auferre conaris! - You are trying to take Sol from me!

Quid irrumabo facimus? - What the fuck do we do?

Nescio. - I don’t know.

Recedite ab ea! - Get away from her!

Licuitne futura est? - Is she going to be alright?

Taglist: @greezenini​ @adventures-in-bookland​ @kthstrawberryshortcake-main​ @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin​ @yamekomz @chimthicc​ @michiiedreamer​ @amorieus​ @mima795​

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 23: Frost

Word Count: 1719 Rating: General Summary: You and Din wake up one morning to discover the volcanic planet you call home has been plunged into a deep frost. You are awestruck by the gleaming ground and the icy crystals that cling to every surface. You and Din decide to head out for a walk with Grogu, who is fascinated by the way his favourite pond has frozen over. Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Poor Grogu. I keep making him suffer, I promise I love him! He's just a funny little green gremlin. The last two entries will tie pretty closely to this one but wow, can't believe it's almost over. I've had so much fun writing this series and I'll miss it, but there are some ideas in here I'll expand on come January!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

Despite the lava flats dotted throughout its surface and the fact that it was technically a volcanic planet, Nevarro was not always sweltering and had different seasons. Throughout the year, it rarely rained; the climate remained mild throughout most of the year, but the temperature would drop towards the end of the year, particularly around Life Day. Although there was lava to be found on Nevarro, it was nothing compared to a planet like Mustafar, a volcanic hellscape. The entire planet was an angry red thanks to the lava that boiled on its surface. Surely it was a blisteringly hot, punishing environment. You had never been, but the planet was legendary, known throughout the galaxy.

There was an expression you had heard used often since childhood. When something was unlikely to happen, people would laugh and say: “Mustafar will freeze over first.” It was an amusing expression as obviously the thought of a planet as sweltering as Mustafar freezing over was ludicrous. Similarly, the thought of Nevarro freezing over was an idea that you thought equally ludicrous until, one morning, when you woke up to an empty cot and Din calling your name. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, wiping your bleary eyes with the back of your hand as you blinked rapidly to adjust to the light. There was a certain stillness and quietness; the light that filtered in was weak and pale. It appeared to be early morning. You and Din did not have plans and you had planned for a relaxing day, you wondered what had roused him from bed so early. 

Din was standing by the window in the main room of your little cabin, still clad in the cotton clothes he slept in with a curious look on his face. There was something out there that was clearly capturing his attention . As you made your way across the room to discover what it was, you wondered what he was captivated by. As soon as you moved to stand next to him, though, you understood perfectly. 

The usually ashen, grey-brown surface of the volcanic planet you called home had turned white. Every surface was glistening, reflecting the low sun in the sky. By some festive miracle, the entire planet was covered in what appeared to be a deep frost. You had never seen anything like it for all the time you lived here. You had encountered snow before, but frost was something different, the way the ice clung to every inch of the planet, the little icicles gleaming as they coated the plants by the pond just in front of the cabin. The pond itself had frozen, creating a pristine, glassy surface that you had a strange desire to skate across, even though you had no idea how deep it was. Besides, it had been years since you had ice skated. The rocks at the frozen pond’s edge looked like some precious jewel, the way they sparkled as you turned your head to take in the sights.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Din finally asked, breaking the awe-struck silence that the two of you had fallen into, utterly mesmerised by the frozen surface of the planet before you.

“I’ve never seen anything like this on Nevarro before,” You agreed, nodding in wonderment. 

“No, I wonder what caused weather like this,” Din pondered. “I don’t think this is normal.”

“It’s a miracle!” You exclaimed. “Just in time for Life Day, too,” You added, referring to the rapidly approaching holiday

Din looked around at you, raising an eyebrow, the corners of his lips pulled down into a slight frown. His eyes were shimmering in mirth though… you knew there was no genuine disapproval there. You conceded that perhaps your enthusiasm had been a step slightly too far for him. Considering Din had limited experience of the season’s traditions before he met you, he approached the traditions you introduced him to with as much enthusiasm as someone who had celebrated Life Day all their life. But you still got the sense that Din did not entirely share all of your festive merriment, so sometimes you liked to be a little cheesy to get underneath his skin. 

“We should go for a walk,” Din suggested, “After Grogu is awake and we’ve eaten, we should appreciate this frost while it’s here.”

“Sounds great, Din,” You sighed. 

You went to the fresher to prepare for the day while Din woke Grogu up and did the same. Din had already been to the kitchen and brewed a much-needed pot of caf, which you gratefully helped yourself to, given the early start to your day. You then placed some bowls, milk and cereal on the table in preparation for a simple family breakfast that would fuel you for the long frosty walk.

Din and Grogu eventually made their entrance. Din had dressed in his beskar’gam, save for his helmet. Grogu was clad in the red snow suit that Din had purchased before your little getaway in the snowy mountains. The garment was coming in surprisingly handy now as it would keep the little boy warm from the cold outside. 

The three of you enjoyed your breakfast together; you and Din continued discussing how surprised you were at the remarkable frost and memories of such frozen conditions at other times in your life. After cleaning away the dishes, it was time to head out on the walk. You laced up your boots in the hallway and pulled on the red coat that you had had such a stressful time finding, but were now delighted with. It fit you perfectly and matched Grogu’s red snowsuit. You were ready to head out.

“Are you warm enough?” You asked Din, wondering how warm his armour really kept him.

“Yes thank you, cyare,” Din nodded, his helmet now resting on his head. “The flightsuit can be insulating or cooling depending on the temperature, and my helmet is climate controlled,” Din explained.

You nodded, he had probably informed you of such functions before but this time, you had an ulterior motive for such a line of questioning. You just had one little addition to Din’s outfit though. You smirked as you grabbed the red scarf that you had bought for him from a local tailor on your snowy vacation to the moutains. You and Grogu were wrapped up from the elements in red items of clothing, so it only seemed proper that Din joined you. You put the scarf around Din’s neck, tying it gently and smiling as you stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“Much better,” You nodded. “Now we’re all matching.”

Din scoffed and shook his head. Then he grabbed your hand, holding Grogu in his other arm. The three of you headed out into the frosty winter wonderland. You delighted in the sound of the frost crunching underneath your boots, it was instantly comforting. It was a sound you had not heard for many years, believing that moving here to Nevarro would mean you would never experience such cold weather again. How wrong you were. Now, you had made memories in freezing temperatures in a picturesque snowy moutain village thanks to the trip Din had treated you to and, shortly after returning, there was this unseasonable frost on Nevarro.

Grogu was seemingly delighted by the freezing conditions too, his eyes wide in amazement as he took in his surroundings. You and Din had intended to go for a long walk, but you didn’t make it far before Grogu began chirping loudly. He gestured his little hands towards something. Din stopped and you looked at him questioningly. 

“The pond, perhaps he’s worried about his frogs,” Din shrugged.

“Awww, I’m sure they’re alright, little guy,” You reassured Grogu. “The surface is frozen, but they’re probably still swimming around underneath.”

Grogu nodded at your reassurances, but he continued gesturing towards the pond; clearly something was still on his mind. You and Din walked towards the edge of the pond and Din eventually placed Grogu down on one of the rocks so he could see the ice up close and watch for any of his frog friends beneath the surface. But Grogu was seemingly not satisfied to watch from afar; the mischievous little boy was soon pushing himself off the rock and making tentative steps towards the ice, before you and Din could do anything to stop him.

“Grogu!” Din exclaimed, moving towards his son as he stepped out onto the frozen surface. 

But before Din could scoop Grogu up, the child used the Force to leap into the centre of the pond, out of Din’s reach. Your heart was in your mouth as you watched him, fearing that you would soon hear the distinctive cracking noise of ice breaking. But mercifully, that did not happen. As Grogu took cautious steps across the frozen pond, his little feet were scrabbling against the icy surface and his arms were outstretched to keep him balanced. You and Din marvelled at both how cautious he was treading and how well he was maintaining his balance, given that he only had the red booties of his snowsuit on his feet, rather than any shoes made specially for ice.

“He’s a natural!” You commented in amazement at Grogu’s balance on the ice.

“He is,” Din said proudly. “We should get him some real skates.”

It seemed that you had spoken too soon. Everything was going so well, until there was a heartstopping moment where Grogu’s legs went from underneath him and he flopped down onto the ice. You waited with baited breath to see how Grogu would respond – was he hurt? But mercifully after a few moments, you heard the most wonderful sound: Grogu's laughter. It seemed that Grogu’s little tumble on the ice had not affected him too badly.

“You alright, bud?” Din asked as he leaned over to scoop Grogu up, fortunately the little boy was sufficiently close to the edge of the pond that Din could reach him.

Grogu gave a happy chirp and you reached over to stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers. You were relieved that he was alright and your walk could continue. You were eager to explore the planet that had been transformed into a frost-bitten paradise and make the most of such a rare occurrence.

With a spring in your step, you set off for a walk across the gleaming surface of Nevarro, holding hands with an equally shiny Mandalorian. Din's armour, too, was gleaming, save for the red scarf slung around his neck, a way to ensure the three members of your little Clan were matching. You sighed deeply and smiled at the sound of the frost crunching underneath your boots as you gazed around in wonderment at the deep frost.

[kiatheinsomniac]

.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ

──── 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓-𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ✧ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: aug. top supporter @gojohater101 ✧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Carlos Oliveira x Reader ✧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k ✧ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

You wake in the night and glance at the clock on your nightstand. Four AM. The window is open and it’s an early autumn night so a chill has filled the room even despite it being so hot in the flat when the two of you went to bed in the late evening. 

You turn over to look at your partner and the cause of your wakening. Carlos’ brow is pinched and he’s groaning, letting out noises that seem to want to be words but he is not conscious enough to form any intelligible ones. His head jerks from left to right and he’s tense, his legs occasionally kicking out and surely being what woke you just moments ago. 

He’s having a nightmare. 

You shuffle back and away from him, not wanting to startle him. You then reach your hand out and lace your fingers through his. Carlos has strong, calloused hands. They’re coarse from years of training though they’re now covered in a sheen of sweat, much like the rest of his body. You squeeze his palm in yours. 

“Carlos? Carlos, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up, my love.” You coax in a voice that’s loud but not raised, still worried about startling him awake and making matters worse. He’s clearly already suffering enough and the last thing you want to do is make this experience any worse for him. His hair, dark and with a fluffy charm to it, is damp and slings to his temples as his face scrunches in displeasure. You shake his hand a little and give it another squeeze, maintaining the distance between your bodies still. “Carlos, come on. I’m right here with you, wake up. Everything’s ok.” 

He sits bolt upright as he wakes, tearing his hand out of your grasp as he looks around the dim room. You reach behind you to the familiar switch where the lamp turns on upon your nightstand. The room is illuminated and it brings his attention to you, to the room that’s no longer obscured by darkness. Your room, the one you share. Not in Racoon City. 

You watch his body slacken and he relaxes when he gets a better sense of his surroundings and he takes in a deep breath before laying back down beside you and curling his strong arms around your waist, pulling you close and burying his face against the warmth of your chest. Despite him being covered in sweat, you reach a hand up and run it through his damp hair, wanting to help calm him from whatever horrors his mind must have conjured for him from real experiences he’s faced. 

“I don’t know where you thought you were but you’re home; you’re safe.” You murmur soothingly. He lets out a sigh and holds you tighter. 

“Yeah…” He replies quietly, clearly with a lot on his mind. But he knows you’re right and he couldn’t be more glad for it. You run your hand up and down his arm, giving his bicep a little squeeze. 

“Why don’t you get in the shower? I’ll put some fresh sheets on the bed and get you a warm drink.” You suggest. He just breathes deeply with you in his arms for a while before nodding and getting up to go to the bathroom. You watch him, concerned for his mental wellbeing but set on comforting him. Carlos isn’t much of a talker and you respect that. If he wants to talk, he will – it doesn’t happen often but when it does, he tells you everything and if that’s how he expresses himself then you’ll accept him as he is. 

You also get up and start stripping the sheets off the bed, throwing them into the laundry hamper and going over to the wardrobe to get the spare set off the top shelf, reaching up onto your toes to grab it. Once the bed is made with fresh sheets, you give it a little spritz of lavender spray and then head to the kitchen. You boil the kettle to make some tea and take out two little crepes in their packets, throwing them in the air fryer and grabbing a plate. It’s a small snack but you hope that something warm and sweet can lift his spirits. 

After about ten minutes when you’ve brought the tea and plate of heated crepes into the bedroom and set both down on his bedside, Carlos exits the bathroom with a towel hanging low on his hips. His body is always a sight to see: a perfectly toned physique that any classic scholar would have begged your lover to model for them, damp, shining tan skin and your eyes catch onto the trail of hair that dips down below where his towel is tied. But now’s not the time for that. 

You welcome him back into bed with open arms, propped up against the pillows. He sits down and leans back against you, the back of his head against his chest while his back and shoulders press to your belly. 

“I made you tea.” You press a kiss to the top of his wet head. “And heated up some crepes.” 

“Thank you, minha gatinha.” He turns his head and leans up enough to kiss your jaw and he reaches for the plate, resting it on his sternum as he picks up one of the warm sweets to enjoy. Meanwhile, you cuddle him with one arm and rub his shoulder with your other hand, cheek pressed to the side of his head. 

“There’s no need to thank me. Feeling any better?” 

“A lot, yeah. You’re the best.” He reaches for your hand that had been resting on his chest, embracing him from behind. He gives it a gentle squeeze. You kiss his temple in return for the affectionate gesture. 

“Do you wanna go back to sleep or should we watch some tv?” He seems to think about it for a moment as he picks up the mug of tea and takes a sip. 

“Yeah.. tv sounds good actually.” He agrees. He brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss and his voice becomes quieter: “Fuck, I’m glad I’ve got you… you always know exactly what to do.” 

“You’re no different, you know.” Your nose nudges against his head gently, “I just want to make sure you feel as loved as you make me feel.” You grab the remote and turn on the tv that’s in your room, letting the coloured light fill the room as you cuddle him with his back against your belly, leaning into you as he forgets about his troubling nightmare with the tenderness of your hair. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@danielle-marie @loopycorn1123 @batsyforyou @jofie-does-things

[mightystumpmachine]

patrick x female reader in pain so he pampers and snuggles with her

Heyyy! I had a blast writing this fic because I'm actually sick right now, so I wrote about how I'd love Patrick to take care of me :'(( Anyway, hope you enjoy it and come back soon with more ideas <3

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜・。。・゜★

Wrapped in Love on Sick Days

(Patrick stump x Fem! Reader)

Summary: You wake up sick, but Patrick is there to take care of you.

Warnings: Nothing more than this can be extremely sweet. fluff.

Notes: English is not my native language, so if there are any errors here, let me know :D

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜・。。・゜★

When you woke up that morning, a sharp pain throbbed in your chest. Breathing was difficult, at least today it was.

You were slightly trembling, and occasionally, you suffered from chills. You felt frozen, even a bit disoriented.

The sheets felt heavy on you and no matter how hard you tried to find a comfortable position, moving seemed to worsen the headache.

You decided to stay in bed, hoping the pain would pass. Patrick had gotten up early to do some things, but you knew he wouldn't be long in coming back.

After a little more than half an hour, you heard the front door close and immediately recognized Patrick's footsteps.

"_____, honey!" he raised his voice a little. "Are you home?".

"Patrick?" you asked, unsure if you had really heard his voice.

You heard the footsteps again, now approaching the bedroom hastily.

You could see him approaching the door frame, sliding towards the bed, and sitting next to you.

He smiled at you, but when he took your hands in his, he recognized that feverish warmth almost immediately.

Frowning, he brought the back of his hand to your forehead.

"Oh, love... how are you feeling?" he asked worriedly.

You groaned a little, shifting in bed. "Like I've been run over by three trucks".

Patrick smiled sideways and stroked your hair.

"No wonder you were so restless last night" he thought out loud. "I thought maybe you were having nightmares".

You shook your head. "I'm cold. Is the heating on?" you asked with difficulty.

Patrick looked at you with a pitying look; it broke his heart to see you suffer. He stood up and bent down to kiss your forehead.

"Love, it's not that cold, I promise you" he replied. "You're just running a high fever".

Whimpering, you pulled the blankets over your head.

Your boyfriend stood and slowly walked out of the room.

Peeking out from the covers, your hair and eyes visible, you watched him standing in the doorway.

"Don’t leave," you pleaded, voice barely audible and hoarse from illness.

"I won’t, just need to tell Pete we’re postponing band practice," he said while heading towards the kitchen, "I'll take care of you until you’re better."

You felt a little bad hearing that Patrick already had plans for today (but not that much, honestly). You needed him by your side because with him everything hurt less.

"I love you."

"Very convenient timing," he teased as he left for the kitchen.

You were left alone in the room, shivering slightly. You clutched the blankets to your body with the little strength you had and stayed that way, waiting for the cold to go away at some point.

you fell asleep when Patrick entered the room again, but this time with a tray carrying a cup and some toast.

"Sit up, ____," he said, placing the tray on the bed and sitting beside you, "My mom used to make this tea when I was sick as a kid. Hope it helps."

Sitting up slowly, Patrick supported your back with a gentle hand.

Accepting the tea, you took an immediate sip, wrinkling your nose at the ginger taste.

"Yeah, I know you hate ginger," he smiled, rubbing your back, "But it’ll help."

Nodding, you finally drank it before it cooled.

You only ate two slices of toast because you had no appetite at all, but you knew Patrick wouldn't let you go through the day with absolutely nothing in your stomach.

"If you're still like this tomorrow, I'll have to call the doctor" he warned, to which you only nodded.

"Thanks, Patrick" you whispered. "You're my angel".

Patrick helped you lie back down, adjusting pillows for comfort.

Ensuring you were well-covered, he stood.

"Maybe you should sleep a bit, darling," he suggested softly, clearly intending to leave the room.

Grasping his sweater sleeve, you pleaded, "No... don't go. Stay here... with me."

He looked at you tenderly and lay down next to you. You snuggled into his chest almost immediately, trying to absorb his body heat.

"Wow... you're affectionate today, huh?" he joked, wrapping his arms around you in an almost healing hug.

You laughed softly and shrank, feeling protected under him.

"Shut up" you reproached him, in a joking tone.

"We should do this more often" he whispered, enjoying the contact with you.

"Do you like seeing me suffer?" you feigned annoyance, to which he only chuckled softly.

"Let's say I like knowing you need me, baby" he replied flirtatiously.

You sighed and closed your eyes. You felt a bit of relief in Patrick's arms as you thought about what he had said.

You thought that you definitely should cuddle more often. You enjoyed every moment with him, but sometimes you had to admit you took it for granted.

"You know I love you, right?" you said suddenly.

"Yeah, ando I love you more than you could imagine" he replied immediately, looking for your face.

You looked at him with a small pout; he smiled tenderly and kissed you.

A kiss full of love and innocence that lasted only a couple of seconds.

When you parted, you hid back in his arms. Patrick only rested his chin on top of your head and pulled you closer to his body.

The only thing you could hear now was Patrick's heartbeat, beating right next to your ear.You smiled; those heartbeats had become the best melody Patrick could give you.After a while, both of you fell asleep. Enjoying only each other's company.

When you woke up, Patrick was still holding you. The first thing you saw was your beloved sleeping peacefully with his mouth slightly open, and you felt your heart melt with tenderness.

Incredibly, the headache had eased considerably, leaving only an echo of the former migraine.

On the other hand, you no longer felt the cold that had made you shiver just a few hours ago.

You didn’t feel completely well, but you had definitely improved.

You watched Patrick for a few seconds, enjoying the tranquility he emanated. He was breathing softly, and you could hear a very delicate snore.

You tried to move a little, trying not to wake him, but almost as if he was aware of you even while asleep, he opened his eyes.

He blinked quickly, trying to get his eyes used to the light in the room.

“Hi, beautiful” he smiled at you with a slightly hoarse and sleepy voice. “How are you feeling?”.

“Much better” you returned the smile. “Thank you for taking care of me, you’ve worked magic on me”.

Patrick sighed with relief and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s been my pleasure, though it seems you still have a bit of a fever” he said, stretching to reach his cell phone on the nightstand.

It was four in the afternoon. He opened his eyes in surprise to see that they had slept almost eight more hours since the morning.

“Do you want to eat something and maybe watch a movie?” he proposed, looking at you with curiosity.

“Sounds like a great idea” you said, trying to get out of bed.

Patrick gently took you by the shoulders, laying you back in the same place you had been a few moments ago.

“I'll take care of it” he said as he kissed the back of your hand. “You deserve to be treated like a princess, just wait a moment”.

You let out a nervous giggle and agreed, not very convinced. You felt better, but you knew nothing would stop Patrick from being so attentive, especially with you being sick.

He was always like that. He treated you like a queen.

He went to the kitchen and returned after about half an hour. Now the tray that once carried tea and toast, was filled with two ham sandwiches, some crackers with cheese, a small bowl of popcorn, and two freshly squeezed juices.

He placed it on the bed and returned to his previous position, right next to you.

“You outdid yourself with this” you laughed as you took a bite of the sandwich.

“Everything is too little for you, you know?” he replied looking at you. “I love you, you are the sunshine of my life”.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at that sticky and unexpected comment.

“I love you too, you're my hero, you make me feel better just by being here with me” you smiled at him.

He lunged at you, leaving kisses all over your face, finally focusing on your lips, where he stayed for a long time.

“Stop it” you laughed between short kisses. “You’ll get sick too”.

Patrick moved only a few millimeters away from you, bumping noses. “If that means more time by your side, I'm willing to take the risk”.

You laughed again, seeing how Patrick enjoyed making you blush.

Still beside you, he turned on the TV and put on a random comedy movie.

Both of you settled in, him wrapping an arm around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. The movie started, and although you weren't fully focused on it, you felt calm and happy. Patrick's laughter resonated next to you, and you found yourself more focused on him than on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, Patrick glanced at you and saw you struggling to stay awake.

Although you felt better, your body was still weak.

“You should sleep a little longer, you need it”.

“I don’t want to sleep anymore” you protested almost like a little girl. “I want to enjoy this time with you”.

He smiled, feeling a strong urge to hug and kiss you at that moment. “I love hearing that, honey. But let's make a deal, okay? If you sleep and feel better… tomorrow we’ll go for a walk together… it’s been a while since we went out”.

You looked at him for a few seconds, but finally agreed; it was a good deal. Patrick was very good at negotiating. Then you thought Patrick was good at many things.

Without saying anything else, you snuggled closer to him and closed your eyes, letting his warmth and voice lull you to sleep.

The last thing you were aware of was Patrick kissing your head softly. It took almost no time for you to fall asleep like a baby again.

Patrick turned off the TV once he noticed you had fallen asleep again. He stayed a little longer by your side, watching your calm breathing and just admiring you.

As the afternoon turned into night, Patrick covered you with another blanket and decided to let you rest. He got up carefully, making sure not to wake you, although he immediately noticed you were in a very deep sleep.

Before leaving the room, he whispered: "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you, hope you wake up feeling better."

He left the room, turning off the light and leaving the door slightly open so you could call him if you needed him.

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x OC.

Part 7! Here’s the link for the last part.

This chapter contains smut and mentions of nightmares/ ptsd.

Ron and Jenny have increasingly spent more nights together, delving in the comfort of each others arms. When Ron has a nightmare, fuelled with the trauma’s from war, he admits to finding comfort in staying with her. Smut ensues as the fondness grows between the pair.

GUYS THIS IS FUCKING FILTHY I REALLY SHOULDNT UPLOAD THIS I AM ASHAMED OF MYSELF ITS BEEN A REALLY LING TUME OK-

As Ron stirred from besides me, I’d let out a content sigh, smiling up to the roof of the decorated ceiling above. A room fit for a king huh? More like fit for a queen like me. I’d been awoken by Ron’s tossing and turning- I didn’t mind. Waking up during the early hours of the morning no longer bothered me so much now I was sharing a bed with him.

For the past four weeks we’d hardly slept alone. Whether that was him turning up outside my room or me sneaking into his, it had become a regular occurrence.

When he’d stilled, I’d settled back down into the comfort of the pillow, closing my eyes once again. A hum escaped Ron’s throat from next to me which caused me to turn back over, scanning over his expression. His eyes were still shut, indicating he was deep in slumber, but the frown tugging down on his face made him look troubled. Ron let out a soft pant again, almost sounding breathless as he shifted his hands. As he moved some more he began muttering words I couldn’t understand, breathing heavily as the pained expression on his face grew. Was he having a nightmare? He didn’t look to be enjoying himself, that’s for sure. “Ron.” I whispered after he let out another mumble. I ran my touch over the warmth of his shoulder, feeling his clammy his skin was. “Ron.” I muttered again, shaking him as he muttered again, this time letting out the smallest kind of whimper. It broke my heart, even the toughest of men could suffer such horrific night terrors after war. He shot straight up, sitting up and panting wildly whilst staring wide eyed ahead of him like somebody had a gun raised to his head. “Ron.” I whispered again, snapping him out of it as he stared back to me with the same frightened eyes. I I instantly felt my heart shatter when he turned back, kicking his legs off the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands.

“Are you ok?” I whispered, coming to kneel behind the worried man. My hand soothed over his back, glancing to see his face but his head was hung too low to see. “M’ fine.” His voice sounded rough as he shook my question off. He wasn’t fine, I could tell. I was at a loss of what to do as he sat there taking deep breaths on the edge of the bed.

“W- I can leave you alone if you need-“

“No.” A hand reached back to me, his voice breathless as he turned around, sinking back down into the bed and bringing me with him. “No, no, don’t.” His voice didn’t reach above a whisper, soft yet roughened by the huskiness of sleep lacing him. “Okay.” I muttered out, running my hand over his cheek as he swallowed. “Don’t leave.” He nudged his face closer to mine.

“I won’t.”

“No, don’t leave me.” Stunned by his saddened words, I didn’t have time to reply when he was pressing his lips up against mine. “I won’t, Ron.” I managed to add on against the kiss, his hands were running all over my bare back, gripping me close as I soothed down the back of his head.

When his lips fell into my neck, kissing and sucking, I was left a little confused. “Are you okay?”

“I need you.” He didn’t answer my question. “I need you more than anything.” His voice was gruff as he kissed me, harder this time. I couldn’t resist, if he needed me, he could have me, if that’s what helped him feel better then I would oblige fully. “You can have me.” I hushed as he was already burying his head into my collarbone, kissing and sucking deep marks into my skin. My breathing became heavier and I was stunned to feel his fingers dig under my underwear so quickly. I was still wet from the antics from the night before, so his fingers slid over my pussy with ease. “Kiss me.” He instructed as I opened my eyes again, looking back to his darkened eyes. “Are you sure you want to?” I pecked his lips. “Yes.” Ron nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips before licking over them seductively. Oh, what was he doing to me?

The kiss became deeper, our tongues moving against one another’s as his fingers pushed deep inside of me, making me moan out at the sensation. My legs spread wider and I moved my hand down to pull his already hard cock out of his pants. It was my turn to make him feel good, he needed it- he could use it as a distraction. Ron snatched mg hand back up to his mouth, licking over my hands and sucking on my fingers, dampening them before we both moved it back down to his erection. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, that alongside the obvious groans he wasn’t holding back, I couldn’t help but moan as his pace picked up. I felt his fingers twitching at an overwhelming fast rate inside of me, pumping them in and out as my wetness was evident from the noise filling the room. My hand began twisting around the end of his cock, pleasuring him as he ground his hips up into my hand. The only time I stopped was when the pleasure he was giving me was too much. “Give me one.” Ron growled, speaking into my ear as he pressed a sharp kiss to below my ear. I moaned in response knowing he wanted me to cum, little did we expect that his actions would cause me to squirt my juices over his hand and arm, wetting the bed as he groaned in sync with me. “Good. Good girl.” He seethed as my movements over his throbbing member continued. “That’s my good girl.” With a grip to my chin, he forced his two fingers that were inside of me, into my lips as I sucked seductively, using both hands to jerk him off now. Ron let out a broken groan, gasps leaving his mouth as my left hand cupped his balls, massaging them tenderly as his head dropped back. “Fuck- oh my god.” Hearing him out loud was one of my biggest turn ons, and despite the pleasure I’d just received my pussy was throbbing for more. His head was dropped back against the pillow, he laid on his back now, becoming somewhat submissive as I crawled over, replacing one of my hands with my mouth as I licked and sucked over his penis. He was leaking with precum, I sucked it all up, slurping and pushing my head down as I gagged over his length. Fuck it felt good, the way his hands were gripped harshly in my hair and spit was dripping down his cock. I hadn’t even questions how things had got so quickly to this point. “Make me nice and wet for you, that’s it.” Ron watched in awe, letting out a deeply vocal groan which caused my free hand to press in between my legs.

“Gonna feel so good when I fuck you.” “You like choking on my cock like that?” “You use your mouth so good on me…”

I’d come to figure when Ron was angry or sad or anything, sex was his outlet- and oh my god he was good at it. His hips bucked into my mouth wildly, snatching back my hair to take a look at the precum and spit that dripped from my mouth.

“Can you fuck me?” I borderline whinged as he watched me with widened eyes, yanking me up on top of him, holding his cock out for me to sink down on. I was a little sore from the sex last night, but he filled me up so well. Ron soothed his hand over my cheeks, lips parted ever so gently, the moment of softness replaced by his hips harshly thrusting up into me. I’d never rode him before, so the new angle felt insanely good. I felt like putting on a performance for him, thrusting my hips and circling over him as he groaned out in a manly manner. His hands gripped my ass, slapping them whenever I bounced on his stiff member. Ron tugged me down close to him, as I bounced my hips up and down, feeling his slap to my ass once again as I moaned out loud. “You’re so good at this aren’t you?” He hissed quietly, our faces were inches apart, but one hand in my hair held me back from kissing him. He was tormenting me, teasing me, milking every inch of pleasure out of me as he could. When I didn’t reply he tugged again causing a pained cry to escape my lips. “Yeah, fuck Ron.” I groaned, a panting sweating mess as he rewarded me by fucking into me some more. He thrusted once, testing the waters, before doing it again and again with the strongest thrust I’d ever felt. I thought I’d stop breathing it was that rough, fuck, he was good. I was meeting his thrusts half way, burying his cock deep inside of me as his fingers slipped over my ass and into unexplored territory. I let out a gasp, watching him gaze at me with inquisitive eyes. His finger grazed over my asshole, again, testing the waters as I fell into the trap of pleasure and stopped my movement.

“Don’t stop.” Ron reminded, voice more gentle now as I continued grinding over him desperately. His fingers were rubbing over my tight hole, before pushing one into me, using my wetness as lubrication. “Oh fuck!” The sensation was too good, Ron was a dirty fucker and I loved it. My hand snatched over his neck, scratching down his chest as he used his spare hand to move my hips, moving his finger in and out of me as both my holes were filled with him.

“You’re taking me so well aren’t you, oh fuck, that’s it baby.” Baby- oh god he had me moaning louder than ever before, my voice nearing a scream when he started fucking into me again. “Make yourself cum Jen, use your hands. Touch yourself for me.” His voice hitched with a groan when I began rubbing my fingers over my clit.

“I- I’m gonna cum.” I sobbed out as he pressed himself deeper in me. By the time I had reached my high I was wheezing, chest heaving and falling. Just as his cock threw me over the edge he’d pulled me closer into him, holding a hand firmly against my back whilst kissing me deeply. I was yelling against his mouth, shouting and crying out in ecstasy before I slumped back into the kiss, exhausted. “Oh god, Ron.” I gasped, feeling his finger slip out of me as he soothed down my back gently, holding me close. “Good girl.” He breathed as I came down, laid over his chest. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you?” He checked. “No.” I responded quickly as he kissed my cheeks, thrusting ever so slowly into me to remind me he was still inside of me. I could see he was holding back his pleasure, waiting until I’d fully come down and was okay to carry on again as he rolled my onto my back, keeping his thrusts to a minimal as we made out. It felt romantic, somehow the dirtiness of it all earlier relaxed into something more tender, something sweet. Ron stroked over the side of my cheek as his tongue danced against mine. Admiring the handsome man, I pressed kisses to his neck and jawline, sucking and kissing, careful to leave marks that were only reserved for the eyes of me. The noises he made above me were vulnerable and nothing short of pure ecstasy as he picked up the speed. I was beginning to feel the sore ache of down below and knew I needed Ron to finish fairly quickly. From my gentle whine and whimpers I think Ron could tell I was becoming tired. It was easily 3AM and despise all the excitement of the sex, my orgasm had tired me out. “I’ll stop.”

“No.” I insisted, pressing him closer into me by his ass. “You’re tired.”

“I’m not the one doing the work.” I smiled, my eyes heavy as he kissed me tenderly. “I’ll be gentle, ok?” He soothed as I hummed, nodding with a gentle smile as he gave me small thrusts, pulling me close as he continued a slow rhythm. It didn’t take long for him to build up to the point of finish. I could feel him sweating as he kept a focused face, jaw dropped and eyes locked with mine. “Cum for me Ron.” I whispered. “I need it.” My hand smoothed over his face, when I was about to let go he barely let out a ‘no’ before pressing my hand further to his face. His breathing increased against my lips, barely being able to keep the pucker of his own as he groaned into the kiss. “Fuck, shit, I-“ “Yeah.” I moaned as he grunted out, kissing me harshly. “I love you, fuck.”

————————————————————————

😳😦😵😲

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hai <333333333

I just wanna say i love ur writing style sm and you even inspired me to start!!!

I was wondering could you maybe do scenarios where the monster trio + law finds out that their s/o was a marine before they became a pirate?

Thanks so much :)

So I debated writing this, thinking it might be a little vague. However, I had a few ideas, plus, flattery will get you everywhere with me. I'm so glad you like my writing and that you'd started writing! I bet you'll be amazing!

Warnings: violence, Law being particularly mean, hurt/comfort, GN!Reader

Word Count: 1290

     You’d left a long time ago, or at least, it felt like a long time ago. At one point, you’d truly believed in them, believed that they were good people, but the corruption that seemed to permeate every level of their ranks, the destruction and concealment of knowledge, the blind eyes to the suffering of others, it sickened you. Perhaps it was unsurprising that you’d left, that you’d told them off as you threw your ‘justice’ jacket to the ground before storming out. A ‘dishonorable discharge’, like you cared. You’d heard of kind, helpful pirates, so you’d become one, hopping from crew to crew, trying to find your place. Some of them were great, some were okay, but you never quite clicked with the crew. Meeting up with your current crew, however, was a different story. There was just something about them. Maybe it was how sweet they were as a whole, maybe it was how they helped people, or maybe it was the man that you’d fallen for, whatever it was, you didn’t want to leave like you had in the past. Dating him only strengthened that feeling, only made you want to stay more. The closer you got to him, however, the more you feared him finding out about your past. You knew it was possible that he just wouldn’t care, that he’d shrug it off like he did with a lot of things, but you feared the worst, you feared him hating you for it, that for whatever reason, he’d see you differently, that he’d leave you. When you’d come face to face with your Vice Admiral commander, you’d frozen, this man knew you well, this man had been in charge of you, had trained you. Was the ringing in your ears from a bell or machine? Or was it from the words out of his mouth? The ones about your position as he laughed, mocking you.

Luffy

     He barely registered what the man had said and, quite frankly, didn’t care. All he saw was you freezing up, was your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks at the man’s words. Suddenly, the vice admiral was on the floor, holding his nose as Luffy’s arm retracted, his face filled with anger. Nobody hurt the love of his life like that and got away with it! It didn’t take long for Luffy to defeat the group of marines, hurrying over to you as you sat on the deck of the Sunny on your knees. The young man quickly began wiping away your tears, smiling at you, his usual sunny smile.

     “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t pay attention to what he said.” Luffy said, drawing your attention, how was he okay with this?

     “Luffy, I… how are you okay with this?” you asked, more tears taking the place of the ones Luffy wiped away. Luffy just cocked his head to the side in confusion.

     “What the guy said? Who cares what he said. You’re you, so that’s all that matters. He made you cry so I beat him up.” Luffy said, pulling you into a hug. In truth, he still didn’t really register what the man had said, only that he’d probably insulted you, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if it was true, didn’t care what may or may not have happened to you, all he cared about was you.

Zoro

     Was he shocked? Not particularly, but then, few things truly shocked the green haired man. Besides, it explained a few things that he’d noticed about you. Your strict training regiment, your early wake up and sleep schedule, and your desire to keep your clothes in ‘proper form’. He wasn’t particularly bothered by it either, he’d been a pirate hunter before becoming a pirate, so he didn’t see it as being that different, you’d both actively put pirates away, what did he care about how? What he was bothered by, was the marine mocking you, your body trembling as you stood there. You could take care of yourself most of the time and he didn’t worry about you getting a few scrapes, but this wasn’t some physical scrape that could be healed, this man was messing with your head. The crew barely even saw him move, standing near you one second and then standing behind the vice admiral the next. He could only hope that the man would have a permanent scar, a reminder to never mess with you or the crew again, a reminder of what he’d done and the strength that Zoro had. Walking back over to you, he kneeled down in front of your sobbing form, curled into yourself on the ground. 

     “Marine, pirate, civilian, it doesn’t change who you are. I still love you.” he said softly, picking you up and heading inside, letting the others take care of things while he comforted you.

Sanji

     The blond was furious. How dare somebody hurt you! He barely let you come to harm in a regular fight, this? This was personal. They’d hurt you and now they’d feel his full wrath. He honestly didn’t care about the holes he kicked into their ship, nor did he care about the fire that began to spread, the lower ranking marines scrambling to put the flames out as he faced off with the marine who’d hurt you. Sanji was a sweet, caring, loving man, a chef who enjoyed the looks on people’s faces as they enjoyed his food, and your gentle lover. Even towards his enemies, he was never vicious or cruel, so much so that the crew wondered if this was even Sanji as he devastated not only the vice admiral, but the crew, and their ship, a dark look in his eyes. Almost as soon as the last man fell, Sanji was rushing towards you, worry filling his eyes as he picked you up and headed inside. You needed comfort, hugs, your favorite snack, maybe a relaxing bath. Whatever would make you feel better, he’d gladly do for you. So you were an ex-marine, that didn’t change his feelings about you.

Law

     Stunned. That was the only word to describe his initial feelings towards the information. He’d had an… interesting past with marines. First Flavence, then Cora-san, he really wasn’t sure how to feel about the marines. Even still, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks, watching you stumble back in fear, he couldn’t let the vice admiral get away with this. Taking the ship of marines out was child’s play as he activated his room, while he wouldn’t destroy their ship just yet, he’d leave the marines to attempt to figure out how to put themselves back together as he turned them into a pile of limbs, torsos and heads. Almost like a doll shop of body parts, ready to be assembled. The vice admiral stood there, looking at the chaotic mess that was his crew before turning back towards Law, fear filling his eyes. Law had purposefully saved him for last, slowly walking towards the man. Had he been a little mean in the past? Yes, had he been outright cruel? Once or twice. But what he did to the vice admiral was dark even for him. Organs scattered about the deck, body chopped into pieces and hidden across the ship, left only with a pair of eyes sitting upon a barrel as Law walked back to the Polar Tang. He needed to have a talk with you. The vice admiral said ‘former marine’, meaning that you’d quit, so for better or worse, you were no longer a part of the scum that he’d just disassembled, but he was kinda mad that you’d hidden it from him. He thought you trusted him more than that.