#I moved my arm wrong and nearly passed out from pain

[souliebird]

[[dance of the little swans]]

Hi I wrote my silly Dex x Reader fic but from Matt's POV :)

Past!Matt x Reader , Dex x Reader. Angst. So much angst. It's all angst. Lots of talk about killing :) But it's Daredevil & Bullseye so. Panic attacks.

~3k

I'm taking this less seriously than other writing but I tried.

Summary: Weeks after a bad break up, Matt finds out you are Benjamin Poindexter's new North Star

It has been nearly five weeks since Matt last heard your voice.

You had been upset he had missed the opening night of the ballet you had been a dancer in and Matt had been angry you couldn’t understand his work as Daredevil couldn’t be scheduled into a planner.

He doesn’t remember the fight that much - it had been an extremely long and painful night involving the Hand and he had gotten a pretty decent concussion - but he does remember coming back to his apartment to find every trace of you gone and your key on his coffee table. It had been clear you had left him and Matt’s bitterness and anger at Everything had him making the decision that he wasn’t going to chase after you.

Maybe, if hadn’t been so stubborn and bullheaded, he would have let himself patrol by your apartment. He had avoided everywhere you liked to frequent and it was easy to not think of what he was doing. He hasn't had a moment's rest in months between his day life and nightlife. He kept himself too busy to let himself think about you.

Maybe, if he didn’t have the Devil in him he would have tried to call you. Foggy and Karen pestered at him until he snapped and threw his cell phone through a wall. They didn't mention you after that and he assumes they think you were avoiding them.

Maybe, if he wasn't such a fuck up.

Maybe, if he had done anything.

Check in.

Talk to you.

Maybe - just maybe - he would have realized your apartment has been empty for weeks.

That your phone goes straight to voicemail.

That you had dropped out of your production and hadn’t shown up to your gym since then. None of your friends had seen you.

He had filed a missing person’s report and it had been Mahoney who flatly told him you weren't missing - you had willingly decided to disappear. You weren't breaking any laws - all your bills were up to speed - so there was nothing to be done.

Case closed.

Maybe, if he had listened when Karen had insisted something was wrong he would have pushed more, but you Left and he could not take it.

Maybe, just maybe.

Matt stands frozen at the edge of Hell’s Kitchen with his heart in his throat, listening as your sweet, light laugh mixes with that of Benjamin Poindexter’s.

He knows you know all about Bullseye. Matt has told you all about Bullseye.

He knows you know his name, his face, what he did, what he does, and that the man should be locked away where no sunlight can ever reach him. Matt knows you know every detail about Benjamin Poindexter because he has sat up in bed with you countless nights telling you about his nightmares about the man.

That monster shouldn’t be walking down the street with you, with his arm slung around your shoulder like you have some sort of casual relationship with him. You shouldn't be smiling and leaning into his hold, talking about nonsense while holding boutique shopping bags while he hides various weapons under his clothes.

You shouldn't be so intimate with Benjamin Poindexter.

You shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

Matt wants to run to you and pull you from Poindexter, then beat the man to a pulp for daring to even look at you, but he can’t move. He can’t move because he doesn’t understand why any of this is happening. It feels like his brain is breaking - or like his body has just had a factory reset and he needs to reboot.

“Do you want a coffee?” you ask Poindexter - exactly like you used to ask Matt every time you passed a coffee shop. It is sweet and tempting and incredibly clear that you are the one who wants coffee. You always want coffee.

Poindexter lifts his arm - checking his watch, Matt thinks - before answering in his faux Civilian voice that hides the monster he is, “it’s almost nine.”

“Like that means anything,” you fire back, your voice so light and happy as you bump your shoulder against Poindexter’s chest. “Please?”

The man laughs, almost sounding genuine with it and Matt’s hackles raise. He wants to storm over and rip out Bullseye’s voicebox, but he remains rooted to his spot in his Rage.

“You know I’ll never deny you anything, angel.”

Poindexter pretends to be a gentleman - he opens the door to the coffee shop for you, and when you get to the counter, he asks for a medium drip coffee and your preferred order. He pays with cash while Matt tries to not let out a feral scream.

He shouldn’t know how you take your coffee.

He shouldn’t have his arm around you.

He shouldn’t be calling you ‘angel’.

Matt finally gets his body to listen to him and he crosses the boundary out of the Kitchen, racing across rooftops and trying to figure out how the hell to get you to safety. Poindexter would have no qualms about killing you and everyone in the area and he can't allow that to happen.

He needs to lure the danger away from you.

But you don't seem to get you are in danger because as you wait for your coffee, you press yourself against Poindexter’s side again.

“Do you want to finish watching that movie?” You ask softly and Matt can practically taste the sweetness in your voice. He lets himself growl at it.

“I don't know, are you going to stay awake for it?”

“Dex!”

Matt hates that he can hear you smiling. He hates he can hear Poindexter smiling.

Then so suddenly it all changes.

Matt's best guess is you see something on the TV that is playing in the shop, as you are facing that way. Your heart starts pounding in your chest while the rest of you tenses up.

Your lower lip wobbles as you shakily gasp out the most terrified sound Matt has ever heard in his life.

His heart shatters at the word that slips from your lips.

“Dex.”

Bullseye is already moving.

He grabs you by the arm before you finish saying his name and he's three steps already towards the door. The barista looks on with confusion as the both of you practically run out the door, leaving your coffee behind.

The Devil in Matt roars to life and he pushes body to move faster.

Whatever you saw on the television is driving you into a full blown panic attack. Bullseye is marching you down the street at a brisk pace and you are right at his heels, clutching onto him almost as tightly as he is clutching onto you.

You keep repeating his name quietly, pleading and begging - but not in fear of him. You are asking him to help you.

You want his protection.

And Matt doesn't understand. He doesn't understand how you could ever be in the same space as Benjamin Poindexter. How you could interact so easily with him.

What had he done to you?

Stockholm syndrome wasn't supposed to be real but he knows Poindexter is an excellent manipulator. He tricked the FBI all those years into believing he was a person instead of a monster.

“It's going to be okay,” Bullseye firmly tells you. Gone is the fake ‘aren't I charming?’ voice. This is the hard voice of the man who killed Father Lantom without blinking an eye. The hand that isn't holding you is already holding three throwing knives and his eyes are darting around, looking for any excuse to use them.

He will mow down anyone in his way.

And Matt's still too far away to stop him.

By The Grace of God, no one tries to intervene.

It's not uncommon to see people running down the street, especially in a busier area like this. To anyone who might be bothered by the running, you just appear to be in a hurry.

Matt follows you deeper into Midtown and - to his great surprise - an upscale hotel. With actual security. You have to flash your key card at the entry before they will open the door and he is honestly surprised Bullseye doesn't kill the guard.

He ends his chase in the building across the street. He will need to figure out a way in without causing a scene.

He can't let Poindexter kill more people.

You quickly end up in the elevator, and Matt just stands there as you go higher and higher into the sky. The suite you swipe your door key at is around the corner from the stairwell and Matt doubts that by chance. Bullseye probably has every centimeter of the place mapped and it isn't going to be easy to get in.

Matt becomes lost in his planning, forgetting to focus on the fact you and Poindexter are now alone.

He doesn't expect it when you rip his heart out by swirling around and throwing yourself at Poindexter.

He, of course, catches you because he was already reaching for you. He crushes you to his chest with one arm while the other buries itself in your hair. He presses his forehead to the top of your head, which is hidden against his neck.

He silently squeezes you in the tightest bearhug he can before without hurting you while you weep. You crumble apart the seams and Matt can do nothing.

He is rooted to the roof of some department store as the man who almost ruined his life cradles the lover who walked out on him.

He cries along with the both of you.

He cries because he feels betrayed.

He cries because he doesn't know how this came to be.

He cries because he doesn't know why you are crying, but Benjamin Poindexter does.

Only when your body starts to give out and your sobs slow does Bullseye speak. His voice is raspy - he has been crying as well but Matt doesn't give a fuck about that - as he begs, “Please let me kill him. Please. I'll be quick, I'll be good. No suffering. Please. Let me kill all of them. Please.”

The words jolt Matt from his own thoughts and his breathing stops, waiting for your reply.

“No,” you mumble, sounding so broken and exhausted. You dip your head and nuzzle yourself into his chest while he still holds you in a tight grip.

Matt can tell you've had this conversation before.

He’s starting to go numb inside. He doesn't understand what is going on. He doesn't understand why you are acting like this.

What had that monster done to you to desensitize you to death? Why didn't this bother you?

“Why?” Bullseye demands, his anger starting to become uncontrollable. His voice is getting hard and he still has blades in his hands.

Matt needs to move, needs to stop him.

But he just stands there and listens.

You sigh, then step impossibly closer to Poindexter - you've slotted yourself completely between his thighs and your head is tucked under his chin. It's almost as close as you can be with clothes on and without fucking. The monster responds by filling any missing holes by hugging you that much tighter.

You are going to be covered in bruises.

“It will hurt more,” you barely breathe out. “If he's gone, it will hurt more. If he's just…. If he's just there, I can.” You are nodding as you are talking, like you are trying to convince yourself of your words.

Matt doesn't understand why you are trying to reason with Bullseye why Matt shouldn't be murdered in cold blood.

This isn't who you are.

What did he do to you?

“I can,” you start again, “just ignore it. Hell's Kitchen just doesn't exist. That's what we said, yeah? It's not there.”

Matt’s weeping again.

What has happened to you in these five weeks that you sound so broken?

How could he have allowed this to happen? He was so sure he had been abandoned yet again that he let his Anger overshadow the fact that he was supposed to protect the people he loved.

He had purposefully ignored you and this was his sick punishment.

God had seen his wickedness and had sent the false Devil to punish him.

But it wasn't enough according to Poindexter.

“He deserves to be punished,” the man spits. “He hurt you. Let me kill him. I'll choke the life out of him. All of them.”

What did he do?

What did Matt do?

He missed a ballet performance - which is a little hard to follow without sight - so he could stop some lingering members of the Hand from getting dragon bones. He didn't deserve Death for that, however horrible he felt about it.

“It will hurt more,” you repeat softly and Matt does not understand this argument. You should be very clearly telling Bullseye not to kill Matt.

“If they are gone it will hurt more.” There's a beat of silence, then you ask in an almost sultry whisper. “Do you want me to hurt more, Dex?”

Matt understands what is happening.

You know how to manipulate Poindexter right back. You know you're his North Star and you know exactly what that means to him.

Morality won't work on Bullseye - he has no morals - but he is a practical slave to his obsession.

That's how you keep him from killing Matt.

Matt doesn't know if he should be grateful or if he should throw up.

This isn't you, this isn't how you act. Matt doesn't know what is wrong with you and that angers him and scares him.

You aren't pretending to be his North Star. You aren't saying the right things to keep him on the right path. This isn't an act.

Your words are true.

For whatever reason, you want to avoid Matt and cuddle up to Bullseye instead.

“N-never,” Poindexter stutters out, his entire demeanor shifting into something more submissive than aggressive. “They aren't going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” You are genuine in your words and Poindexter seems to sense that. He relaxes just slightly, and after a moment, pulls his head back so he can place his forehead against yours.

“Let me make you coffee. You go shower. We’ll watch your movie until you fall asleep on me. In the morning, we'll go anywhere you like.”

Matt's stomach turns as you start to pluck at Poindexter’s t-shirt. You've stopped crying, but your voice is still wet when you mumble, “I don't want to go out tomorrow.”

“Then we'll stay in.”

Matt drops to one knee as you pull away from Poindexter and head towards the shower. Your movements are sluggish and he's pretty sure you are starting to turn on auto-pilot.

Something about the idea of spying on you bathing doesn't sit well with him, so he focuses on the monster still in the bedroom.

Poindexter waits until the water starts before he moves. Then, in lighting fast steps, he's across the room and screaming into a pillow.

Matt doesn't care about his grief or rage. He just knows he needs to hurt Bullseye enough that he can be arrested and put back into a very deep hole.

Once the monster pretends to be a man again, Matt just keeps sitting there as Poindexter starts making coffee in the hotel provided pot. The grounds are store bought from a little bakery down the street from your old gym. They are your favorite.

Once the coffee is going, the shopping bags are unpacked - they had been dropped when you had entered the room. Poindexter shakes out everything, then neatly refolds it before setting all the garments in the laundry bag in the closet. His moments are precise.

Calculated.

OCD.

Your shower ends far quicker than expected. Less than five minutes from the door closing to the door opening.

You step out of the bathroom with your hair wet and completely nude. Your soap is scented like honey and oat. It's organic. It clings to your skin.

You haven't used it since you learned about Matt's senses.

The Devil in Matt's chest seeps down to his fist and they begin to shake as you walk towards Poindexter, who is openly oogling you. His eyes go right to your chest and he swallows like a nervous teenager.

“Can I have your shirt?”

The question is shy and hesitant and honest and Matt wants to break each and every one of Bullseye’s ribs.

Poindexter gives you his shirt like it was an order and he is a Good Soldier. You pull it on, and wearing only it, take the monster’s hand and lead him to bed.

There is no sex, despite what Matt was expecting.

You curl up, your head on his chest, and turn on a movie.

You fall asleep within minutes and Bullseye lays there and watches you sleep for the remainder of the film.

Matt sits and keeps his senses focused on nothing else.

After the credits roll, Poindexter rewinds the movie back to exactly the point where you fell asleep before turning off the TV.

He's surprisingly gentle as he moves you to be sleeping on a pillow instead of his bare chest. He tucks you in under the blanket, then after a moment of hesitation, runs the back of his index finger over your cheek. “Good night, angel. I'll keep you safe.”

Matt's going to make sure to cut off his hand the next time they encounter each other.

Poindexter turns off all the lights in the room then moves to stand in the most defensively strategic point in the room. He falls into the relaxed stance of an ever alert soldier guarding the most precious of treasures - like he expects someone to come and he is ready for them.

Poindexter stays at his post all night and only when the sun start to rise is when Matt's feet finally move.

As he returns to his apartment, Matt begins to question if Benjamin Poindexter is going to be the one to Damn him.

[thethingything]

okay so now we get to deal with that thing where as we stop dissociating as much we realise we might have gotten injured worse than we thought because now there's a burning pain in our shoulder that's radiating down our arm and it feels really similar to when I fucked up our wrist last august and that injury still hasn't healed properly

[frombookstoretobookstore]

In Sickness and In Health

Abbot x Sick!Reader (Platonic) Robby x Reader (Because who doesn't want to be cared for by this hunk)

Masterlist

You’re trying to listen to Robby as he gathers the day shift before things get too busy, you really are. However, you’re working harder to hold in the chest rattling cough that’s plagued you for the past 24 hours.

You lean against the nurses’ station, one hand on the counter the other on your knee as a pained cough finally rattles past your lips, another two or three escaping with it. 

You hear Robby pause slightly, him and Dana shooting you a look of concern.

“Wrong pipe,” you wheeze, pointing to the cup of crappy hospital coffee next to. You must be convincing enough as they both turn their attention back to the meeting.

Robby ends the meeting and people start to disperse. You offer him a small thumbs up as you drink the coffee, begging the warmth to sooth your throat.

“Don’t be stupid, I can see your forehead veins.” Dana mutters as you look up and glare at her, daring her to call your bluff. “Be a real shame if someone told Jack.”

Your eyes widen and before you can plead with her not to tell him, another fit of coughing doubles you over and makes your head swim.

“I think I’m about to eject my lungs out of my damn face.” You groan, sucking up a disgusting amount of snot before righting yourself, the world swimming slightly.

“You shouldn’t even be practicing medicine with the number of cold meds in your body, let alone be here.” She hisses over the counter, knowing how stubborn you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wheeze, placing your head over your arms on the counter, begging your body to pull it together.

“How the hell did you get this past Jack” Robby asks as he tips your head back, hand on your forehead.

You groan and bat his hands away. “I’m fine.” It comes out as a whine, your sinuses throbbing with each word.

What you don’t see is the silent conversation between Dana and Robby, both already knowing that you’re anything but fine. You stumble slightly as the world tilts, Robby supporting you by your elbow.

“Alrighty, let’s get you to South 4. Dana, fluids please.” You try to bat off Robby again as he guides you towards an open bed, Dana chuckling from behind.

You go to reassure him once again that you’re fine, that not even Jack noticed. But the world lurches and you stumble, your knees buckling.

“Alrighty kiddo, you’re done.” Robby says as he scoops you up, carrying you towards the trauma room. The world is swimming, and you try your best to stay awake, but the universe slowly closes in.

You wake to Dana sitting on her phone next to your bed, her feet propped on the edge of the bed. You groan and turn to fully face her, your body not responding quite as fast as you need it to.

“You move anymore, and I’ll put you in soft restraints. Nearly decked Robby when we put your IV in.” She doesn’t look up, her no nonsense tone enough to stop you from moving. A groan escapes your lips.

“Way to go. You’ve got influenza A kid. We’ve got you on fluids as you dehydrated yourself chugging coffee.” She laughs as she removes her feet from the bed and leans onto the bed, brushing hair out of your face.

“Please tell me you didn’t call him. He’ll kill me for not telling him and himself for not noticing.” You groan, your throat still scratchy and raw from coughing. Another cough rattles your chest.

“Going to work with a 100-degree fever, are you stupid?” Jack says as he rushes in, his hand on your forehead as he checks the saline bag you’re hooked up to. You groan, sending a glare to Dana. She holds up her hands in mock defense.

“If you’re going to shoot the messenger, aim for Robby.” She says as she pats your hand as she gets up to leave. “He barely got out that you’d passed out before this one freaked.”

“I didn’t pass out.” You say groggily as Jack takes a seat next to you, “I just got suddenly tired. Get that shit out of my face.” You bat at Jack as he starts shining his pen light in your eyes, his hands coming to put pressure on your sinuses. You groan at the pressure and pain.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you develop a sinus infection.” He’s gone full clinical as he assesses you, talking out loud to no one in particular. “Well, they’ve got you on fluids, we’ll get you on an anti-viral as well. Add in some fever reducers and rest, you’ll be fine.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you scrunch your nose.

“Get out of here, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I don’t’ get sick.”

You groan at his steadfastness, his unrelenting worry oozing from his eyes.

“Just discharge me and I’ll sleep it off on the couch, I’ll be fine.” You groan, pulling the blanket up to your chin, suddenly cold.

“You aren’t sleeping on the couch hotshot; I’ve got a full healing regiment I’m keeping you to once I get you home.” Jack smooths back your hair as you groan.

“I can manage.” You cough, turning away as to not cough directly in his face.

“Doesn’t mean you have to. You’re sicker than hell, let me help you out on this one.” He speaks. 

“Just get me home, and I’ll be fine.” You whine; another cough makes your tired lungs hurt.

“As soon as we finish hydrating you, be a good girl and finish that saline.” He laughs as you weakly put up a middle finger. “There’s my girl. I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and then you’re getting the full Abbot treatment once we get home. I don’t care if you don’t want to, you lost autonomy privileges when you snuck that sickness past me at shift change today.

You only groan at the pain in your head. “Stop talking, you’re hurting my head with your ego.”

“Love you to!” He says with a laugh as he goes to get you discharged so he can care of you at home.

-----------

Lmk what you think! This was purely self indulgent because I'm sick and love the idea of that man taking care of me.

[anashins]

Too Hot for Snow

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Jaemin

Genre: angst, drama, romance, smut, love triangle

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: There are two smut scenes with the same mc, but nothing that really needs a tw. If you aren't here for him, you can skip them without missing out on anything tho! The other mc won't come short in terms of romance either, trust the process! But it's a bittersweet ending.

Summary: When your husband decides to file for divorce, you find yourself back in the arms of your first love. After all, things are different now and you're not kids anymore. But after a weekend lost in heavy snowfall and wishful dreams, you come to the painful realization that some people don't want to change, and others change too much.

A/N: I wrote this inspired by my own experience from a time where I had to decide between my situationship and now-bf. I thought I could pass this message on to ones who need this as well. Sometimes, we make the right decisions, sometimes the wrong ones. Sometimes, it's too late, sometimes it's not. (Also, I miss Jaehyun :( D-497)

Three years. That was how long your marriage had lasted.

“I want a divorce.”

These words shouldn’t surprise let alone hurt you - but they still did. After all, nothing could prepare you for the day your husband decided to divorce you.

You had talked about it before Jaehyun had moved out and mutually agreed on seriously thinking about an official separation while taking this six month break from each other. 

Yet, hearing this final decision out loud from your own husband’s lips made it real. And even though it had been foreseeable and up to a point even inevitable, you hadn’t been prepared for reality, for the fact that now, this was indeed real.

Your husband didn’t want to be married to you any longer. 

How was that even possible?

We walk down the aisle, thinking it will be forever. Donned in our white gown, the veil in our hair and the flower bouquet close to our chest, we are full of hope, light and love for the person who awaits us by the altar. 

“Till death do us part” is considered the love line of our lives as we all desire to vow it one day to our partner.

But thinking about it, it sounds morbid. We stand in front of witnesses and promise to the heavens that it will literally take a terminal illness, a fatal accident or another forced act of nature to tear this love apart. 

The painful truth is that it takes much, much less.

It often takes minimal profound, heroic and inspiring reasons for two married people to never look at each other again. Oftentimes, love doesn’t get torn apart by death. It gets torn apart by pent-up arguments, lack of commitment and the belief that everything you already own still isn’t enough.

“What about Kang Kang?”

Your throat was so dry, you didn’t even recognize your own voice, and Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled, hair completely askew. 

There had been a time, back then in university, where on weekends, you both had looked like that, but for entirely different reasons. You were just staying at home, playing games and watching movies together. It had been the best and most carefree time of your lives. The strict business man Jaehyun had turned into throughout the years would have never left the house looking like this.

At this moment, you could see your past boyfriend in your husband again, who you had long deemed missing, and you wondered where you both had taken the wrong turn in your once fairytale-like relationship.

“He’s your dog on paper,” Jaehyun said nearly matter-of-factly. “You can keep Kang Kang.”

You bit into your bottom lip, so hard that you swore you could nearly taste something metallic. “Is this your final decision?”

In the break of the second that he needed to answer, you grew hopeful again. Hopeful that your husband would admit this decision was wrong, that he wanted to work on things for you two to be happy again.

Because this was the conclusion you had come to last night. You didn’t want a divorce, you didn’t want to give this all up. You wanted your little family, you wanted your husband and your dog, and children of your own in the future.

But instead, Jaehyun said with a tired, but determined voice,

“It’s my final decision.”

____

If Jaehyun were a season, he’d be summer. 

He was the feeling of getting woken up by sunshine tickling the tip of your nose. He was the salt on your skin when you emerged from the sea, the sand beneath your toes and the water dripping from your hair tips. He was the shade under a tree on sweltering days and flowers blooming in all colors.

He was everything good, fair and bright.

… Until summer vanished and you were left alone when seasons changed. It didn’t only become clear by change in weather, but also by the fact that Jaehyun had taken every last piece of himself out of your once shared apartment.

By the next week, he had officially filed for divorce. 

Summer had come to an end.

____

If Jaemin were a season, he’d be winter.

He was the feeling of thick sweaters when you got dressed on a cold day. He was the sound of snow crunching under your boots, the cup of hot chocolate you drank while watching the icebound lake. He was the snowstorm that came overnight and locked you in, causing chaos and destruction.

Jaemin was charming, tempting and dangerous.

But who, after a hot, sweltering summer, had never not anticipated a beautiful winter wonderland?

Luckily, winter came early that year.

____

“Why are you calling me at this hour?”

You stared at the skyline stretching in front of you. The few cars passing by were only recognizable by their headlights, but apart from that as well as a handful of windows reflecting some light in the building across from you, it was a quiet and dark night, the clock showing 3am.

“Why are you picking up?” you asked.

A light hearted laughter that made your heart jump followed. “I will always pick up when you call, you know that.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed by as you opened the balcony door and stepped outside, closing it again behind you. You turned your head to the sky and watched the moon, and you knew Jaemin was doing the same right now. 

“Did you already sign and send out the papers?” Jaemin questioned.

“Yes,” you answered, and as you spoke, you could see a small cloud forming in front of your face. “They are at my lawyer’s now to get checked. So perhaps, by next week, his lawyer will get them and send them out to him to sign too. Then, I’ll be a divorcée.”

“Don’t use that word.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds like you’ll be a lonely, sad woman.”

“Well, if anything, I’ll be a lonely, sad dog-mom.” Your gaze wandered aside to the balcony door from where you could see Kang Kang sleeping peacefully on this dog bed in the very corner of the living room.

“You’re neither going to be a lonely, sad woman nor a lonely, sad dog-mom. You’re going to be free. You should be happy.”

“I can only be happy with you.”

Jaemin let out a chuckle that came in unison with a cool winter breeze grazing your skin, and only now you noticed how icy it actually was outside, only dressed in your pajamas and a bathrobe. But right now, you didn’t mind the cold. You only tried to remember the last time you had felt so… like Jaemin had said… happy. 

It had been half a year since Jaehyun had come to you to file for a divorce and already a full year since you had actually started living in separation. That was enough time to move forward when you had been long unhappy before.

You could finally quit pretending, quit fighting, quit caring. You had finally reconnected with the man you had always referred to as your first love, willing to start all over again with him.

Then why, when you looked at the night sky, the only thing your mind wandered back to was still the night Jaehyun had proposed to you?

Back then, he had just graduated from university and you had been working in your job for two years already. He had saved up all the money that he had earned while being enlisted to buy you the perfect engagement ring that was now kept hidden in your drawer along with the wedding band. A very beautiful ring that had once been a symbol for a very beautiful relationship.

His proposal had taken place under the night sky too, in privacy like you had wished for, with only the moon and stars as witnesses. It had hurt to look at the night sky for a very long time after your separation. But it didn’t anymore now, it was more of a nostalgic feeling.

As though Jaemin could read your thoughts, he said, “Don’t worry, when we get married, we don’t have to go through a divorce, I’ll get you an even more striking ring.”

“Stop joking.”

“I’m not joking,” he obliged. “I mean it.”

“Jaemin…” You swallowed, hard. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying,” you overheard him taking a deep breather, “if I had done things right the first time, we would have stayed together after high school and you would have gotten married to me instead, and you wouldn’t need to go through all this now.”

You both knew that this wasn’t true. 

There had been grave things that had led to the downfall of your first relationship and you into the arms of your soon-to-be ex-husband. Things that had been totally out of your might to control as you had been so young. But that was long in the past and you had both grown enough as people to pick up where you had left off and do it better this time. 

After all, Jaemin was your first love. That meant something, that was something special.

You sighed. “We were only kids. But now we’re adults. We now have the chance to do it better than back then, Jaemin, and that means to always be honest with each other.”

“I mean every word I said.”

You felt your heart turn heavy. “But for me, it means that I don’t think I will be ready to get married again in the next few years. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that.” His light-hearted laughter took the weight from your chest at an instant. That was what had always fascinated you about Jaemin. Everything seemed so easy and carefree with him. “I’ll wait. One year, two years, five years, ten years… I’ll wait until you’re ready again.”

“Back then, you never wanted to get married and always dreamed about getting famous, moving to America....” You only then realized that it could be taken as an insult and wanted to correct yourself quickly, but he preempted, 

“Back then, I chose foolishness over commitment. But this time, I mean it and I will come get you next week.”

“Get me?” You raised a brow. “To where?”

“To Jeonju."

“To do what?”

“To be with me.”

“I can’t move to Jeonju so suddenly, Jaemin. I have a job here, my apartment, my dog, my family, especially my grandma…”

“Then only for the weekend. Bring Kang Kang with you. And the rest, we’ll figure it out together.”

Silence from your end, but he was being patient. “Do you mean it?”

“I mean it this time too. It’s been two weeks since we’ve last seen each other and we only met twice overall since back then. I know there is so much going on in your life right now, but I need more of you. And you could need a break from your daily life. So come to me.”

A romantic weekend in Jaemin’s home in Jeonju sounded exactly like what you needed right now. 

So you answered, “Okay, let’s do it.”

You were looking forward to winter.

____

The first family gathering without your husband took place two days later, the weekend before you planned on leaving for your short trip to Jeonju.

You had informed your mother about your separation two weeks after the official decision via a text message, very short and dry. You hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone as to why and when, ignoring all upcoming calls from every family member since the news had spread like wildfire. It had been hard enough the first time already when you had to explain why your husband had moved out. You couldn’t do this all over again.

Not because you were rude. But because you were still hurting and you feared that speaking about it stirred up feelings you had long locked up deep inside your heart. Only now, you were ready to face everyone again. Because half a year later, you were fine again.

Your big family adored Jaehyun so much, especially your grandmother, so you still met her with a heavy heart. To her, Jaehyun had been the perfect grandson-in-law, everything she had ever wished for you, and the feeling had been mutual since you had rarely seen your own relatives act with your grandmother as closely as Jaehyun had.

Whenever you had visited, he had brought her gifts, helped her with the chores and told her stories that made her laugh her heart out. Nobody else had done all this with such sincerity and continuity as Jaehyun, and it broke your heart to know that you had robbed her of this experience forever.

Your grandmother was celebrating her 80th birthday that Saturday, and with her declining health you didn’t know for how many more birthdays she could still be around, so you wanted to spend the remaining time with her, even if it was only you alone.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?”

You were sitting on the couch in her living room while everyone else was still dining, chatting and laughing.

“I think I’m doing quite fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

She reached out her weak, fragile hand and touched your cheek. You started to wonder when your grandmother had aged so much. The woman who had watched over you when you were still a child, had driven you to school, had made you food, and had let you spend the weekends with her. The one who had dried your tears when you had gotten your heart broken in school, who had picked up every single broken piece of you throughout the years.

She couldn’t do all that anymore, but she still could tell how you were feeling just by taking a brief look at you.

You couldn’t deceive your grandmother, so you just shrugged and her hand slipped from your cheek right into yours, squeezing it meekly. 

“It’s alright to still mourn him, sweetheart. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

You didn’t believe in the term ‘the one that got away’ which people would commonly use to describe a lost lover they were still thinking about all the time. You believed that you could grow to love someone just as much as you could grow to stop loving someone. If humans could never move on, how were they supposed to continue living?

“Your grandfather…” Around your grandmother’s thin lips played a mild smile that gave her face back something very youthful. “He was and will always be the love of my life. I married him young and I stayed loyal to him until he passed away. I loved him with my whole heart and he was the only person that had ever evoked such feelings inside of me.”

It tightened around your chest as it reminded you painfully of Jaehyun.

“But there was a time before our marriage,” your grandmother continued, and although the smile around her lips was still present, it wasn’t quite merry anymore, but rather pained, “where we were separated, because we didn’t know whether we should get married or not. There was still so much to see in the world, so many people to get to know. Why would we settle so early? So we decided we wouldn’t.”

“Grandma, you never told me that.” You squeezed her hand back to comfort her.

“I got back with my first ever love from when I was still a teenager. The timing was just right, we both seemed to have evolved so much. Maybe fate wanted us to take this path and meet again much later.”

Now, warmth grew in your heart as it reminded you of Jaemin. 

You had gotten to know each in the second year of high school when he transferred to your school, and the two years that followed was a whirlwind of ups and downs that, looking back at, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single second of. After all, it had forged you into the person you were now, and also into the one that had met Jaehyun and had now led you back to Jaemin. 

But you feared your story would separate from your grandmother’s at this point. “How did you then end up with grandpa?”

You now understood why your grandmother was wearing that expression. It wasn’t a fully happy core memory anymore, nor a completely sad one either. It was bittersweet. “It didn’t work out the second time around as well.”

“...May I ask why? You sounded so happy. What happened?” It wasn’t like you wanted to push her boundaries, you were genuinely curious as you secretly found yourself in a similar position now.

“When one day, I returned home, I encountered your grandfather by my house. Apparently, he had waited two days and nights for me and refused to leave unless I talked to him. So I did and he officially proposed. I wanted a week to think about this, and when I, following this event, wanted my first love to make a decision, he couldn’t.”

“He didn't want to marry you?”

“Even after all these years, he didn’t know whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And I wanted a man that knew.” 

You inhaled deeply. “And you never went back to your first love.”

“I never went back to him,” she repeated. “Not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew your grandfather would show up in ways he could never. And that was what I wanted.”

You were asking yourself whether your grandmother told you this story on purpose. But then again, she never did anything without a purpose. She wanted you to learn something from it, and it actually hurt you quite a bit that she was questioning your decision.

“I don’t regret it. Do you regret it, grandma?”

“I don’t regret anything either, sweetheart, absolutely not.” You were worried that she might conceal the truth from you, but from her voice alone and the way her mien changed to the one she was always wearing when she talked lovingly about your grandfather, you were assured that she was being honest and always had been. “Sometimes, I still think about him and wonder where he is, what he’s doing if he’s still al-... And it’s normal. Sometimes, I wonder what if. But if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have chosen differently.”

Your grandmother’s gaze wandered to the coffee table where you spotted something very familiar for the first time since you had arrived: a pink bouquet consisting of different summer flower arrangements. The one Jaehyun and you usually got together and brought over to your grandmother whenever you visited.

This time, you hadn’t had time to bring anything, and admittedly it had also slipped your mind completely. Yet, the very same bouquet was standing there on the coffee table.

“Jaehyun was here?” you breathed.

She nodded. “This morning.”

You weren't surprised. This was typical of Jaehyun. He always thought about others first, never missing an event, always reliant and considerate. With your own mind always wandering, you had very much relied on him and he had never complained about taking matters into his own hands.

“Grandma, I-” You didn’t know why your heart suddenly felt so heavy.

“I’m not telling you what to do, sweetheart. I’m just wondering if nowadays, before a couple decides to divorce, they have already given everything. There is a reason you were married in the first place. That’s all. That is something you should always think of.”

Yes, you had given everything, every day and minute of your marriage. 

When Jaehyun had stayed for work longer, then worked during the weekends and then rarely came home anymore. When you had started to feel lonely, not appreciated and unheard of your feelings. When, every time you had still seen each other, every minor thing led to an argument where one of you needed to leave the house. 

You had tried, over and over again. 

“I have given it my all, grandma. I have.”

“If you can confidently say that, then move on, sweetheart.”

____

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You followed Jaehyun into his new apartment, Kang Kang passing by you. He was jumping up and down, circling around Jaehyun like the happy labrador he was. As you had figured out, there were no dogs allowed in Jaemin’s apartment, so you had asked Jaehyun to take care of him this specific weekend.

You wondered whether it was selfish of you and quickly came to the conclusion that yes, it was, and cruel on top of that too. That was why you hid the truth from your soon-to-be ex-husband and had told him you had work in Jeonju this weekend and no other family could take Kang Kang. At least the latter was the truth as you had earnestly tried it everywhere before, but to no avail.

At least, you knew Kang Kang was in good hands, and he hadn’t seen his human dad in so long either. You put your dog’s belongings in the living room, which consisted of his bed, a few toys, his bowls and other necessities.

“Don’t you have to work this weekend, though?” you asked Jaehyun politely. 

You still didn’t know how to behave in front of him whenever you had to interact. This was actually the third time you met since your official separation half a year ago with the first two being the time he had to pack his stuff and move out completely. How did one interact with the person you were soon to be called ex-husband?

You were nervous and anxious, but also somehow happy to see him, because you hadn’t seen each other in three months. Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, he hadn’t changed. You wondered whether he was dating someone new now too, though.

“I actually requested time off this weekend when I knew Kang Kang would come,” he answered almost nonchalantly. “Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I only have water.”

You weren’t sure whether the water would help the lump that had built in your throat to disappear, so you declined. And just like that, Jaehyun had requested an entire weekend off when you had had begged him in the past to do so over and over again. You were hurt, once again, and it showed all over your face. 

“I’ve started a new job, actually,” he quickly explained, but you didn’t know whether it would make it all better, truth to be told. “Less salary, but since I’m living alone now, it’s fine. They still pay well enough and I have more time to myself.”

You deadpanned, “Good for you.”

It shouldn’t bother you anymore, it really shouldn’t. But you couldn’t shake off the fact that Jaehyun had changed his work and lifestyle almost so easily right after separating from you when he hadn’t been able to do exactly that while still with you. What had hindered him all this time?

Jaehyun, sensing already where this conversation would lead to since you had been there over and over again in the past, quickly changed the topic. “How is your grandma?” 

You unpacked Kang Kang’s stuff while he arranged the bed for him where he thought your dog would like it. 

“Quit playing, I know you visited her.”

He let out a shy laugh. “Did she tell you? I purposely told her not to.”

“She didn’t have to, really. I saw the flowers and knew immediately.”

You turned around to him, and even from the side, while he was kneeling down and petted Kang Kang, you perceived how shy he had gotten as his ears had turned slightly red. 

“I was worried about her since she hasn’t been feeling well these past months. So I wanted to check up on her. I didn’t want to break tradition, you know. Yet.”

“I know,” you admitted and quietly added, “Thank you for that.”

“I hope she’ll get better soon.”

He shifted in your direction and smiled, and this reaction made you longing for easier times where you didn't have to deal with the fact that this was the last time he had seen your grandmother.

Had you been too greedy, wanting too much that he hadn’t been willing to or couldn’t give yet? Had you pressured him too much and driven him away instead? Should you have been more patient with him and supported him, even though you hadn’t condoned any of his actions? Had it only been a rough patch and you would have come over it by now? 

Those were questions to which you would probably never get an answer. It was all too late now anyway. The papers were signed from your side.

“Jaehyun…” you whispered and wondered whether he had heard it as he suddenly interrupted you with,

“Ah, I’m sorry but you have to leave now.” He arose from the crouch and scratched the back of his head. “I actually have a visitor over the weekend and she’ll arrive soon.”

“She…?”

He nodded with a hint of reluctance.

You couldn’t explain why this revelation hurt almost just as much as the day Jaehyun had opened up about wanting a divorce. You were seeing someone else too, probably for longer than him, but you didn’t want him to be dating anyone else, giving her everything you had been asking of him for so long. 

You should be happy for him to have finally changed and wanting to make it better with the next woman he would grow to love. Yet, all you could think about was that he had never been able to give it to you.

You were so selfish.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly and grabbed your purse, moving to the entrance door. 

“Hey.” You heard footsteps, and before you could grab the handle, Jaehyun was already holding you back by your arm. “I’ve known you for too long to unsee the fact that you’re upset. And let me tell you, I understand why you’re angry.”

You lowered your head so that he couldn’t read your exact expression. But he didn’t need to. He never needed to. To him, you had always been an open book. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jaehyun…”

“You’re probably asking yourself why I couldn’t change my job to have more time for you too. Just like I’m asking myself why you couldn’t have been more independent and wouldn’t rely on me only. We’ve both come quite a way, haven't we?”

You took credit for the not independent enough part. After all, since freshman year, you’ve only had Jaehyun. He had been the center of your life, of your universe, and this view had shifted into a toxic direction you never wanted to look into again. You truly had turned codependent at some point, you owed that part. 

All that was left to do was not letting these negative traits affect your new relationships. That was a promise you didn’t only need to make to yourselves, but to your new partner, too.

“Do you think… Do you think we could have reached this point too if we had stayed together? This is what we have wanted, right?”

After all, it didn’t matter anymore. But you really wanted to hear this opinion, whether he thought the same. 

He admitted, “I don’t think we could have evolved like that if we had stayed together.”

“I think so too.” You shrugged off his grip and pulled down the door handle. 

“If you ever need something… I’m always here, okay? Call me, text me, no matter how late, I don’t care. I will always be here for you.”

After all, he was still so good, fair and bright.

It was unfair that you couldn’t offer the same kindness in return. Envy never looked good on anyone.

You switched to a cold business-tone. “My lawyer told me you received the papers already.”

“I did yesterday. I’ll sign them this weekend and pass them on on Monday.”

“See you on Sunday then when I come to pick up Kang Kang.”

And then, you left without another word.

____

“I have a gig tonight, but don’t worry, we can drop off your things first and head right there,” Jaemin declared. “I already told them to start the soundcheck without me.”

“Gig?” Jaemin had picked you up with his car from the train station and you were currently on your way to his house. “I thought we were going to spend the whole weekend… you know, at your place.”

“We will, we will!” he repeated and put his hand on your thigh while the other was still holding onto the steering wheel. “Don’t worry about that. It’s only tonight. Besides… you’ll get to know all my friends and bandmates too, so that’s gonna be fun!”

You should actually be excited about getting involved with his life right off the bat, but you couldn’t help but to feel more anxious about meeting new people when all you wanted to do was to spend a cozy weekend at Jaemin’s place, just the two of you. You wanted to take your sweet time, learning about each other, and only each other, again.

Jaemin had always been an extrovert while you were the complete opposite, and in all these years, this fact hadn’t seemed to have changed at all - just like him always forgetting how hard it was for you to come out of your shell. But you decided that you weren’t going to be hurt over this and see it as a compliment to get introduced to his friends and lifestyle so short into the relationship.

Perhaps, this was also a sign for you to break out of your shell that had only hardened throughout the years you had spent with Jaehyun as he was very similar to you. You couldn’t always live that way and accepted Jaemin offering to show you a new lifestyle.

“I’m looking forward to it!” you exclaimed and shifted your head back to the street, swallowing your anxiety and just hoping it wouldn’t resurface.

____

But it did later that night when you stood by the bar in that very small club, the crowd dancing and singing along to tunes you had never heard before, and you suddenly felt so alone and lost. 

Back in the days, Jaemin had also been in a band, just one of many self-formed ones in school, but his band had always been the most popular, because, well, he himself was so popular. And even now, he was remaining true to his image, flirting with the crowd through his mimicry and gestic, radiating a charisma that would have all girls on their knees in front of him if only he asked.

Since he was with you now though, you felt proud and a bit haughty that he was still so popular and you had him all to yourself. But also, on the other hand, you were questioning if the negative feelings from your teen years would resurface…

The irritation when he hadn’t looked at you even once during his performances. The doubts when he had always winked at another girl during his solos. The jealousy when he had eventually talked to said girls after his performances, treating you like air.

But this Jaemin… he was different. Just when he finished and you viciously feared that it all would be repeated again, he passed by the entire crowd, not sparing his female fans even a single glance, and walked straight up to you.

“How was I?” he asked with a beam and you fell happily into his arms.

“Amazing!”

He laughed. “I’m so happy you liked it! Here, let me introduce you to my bandmates.”

So many new faces, but you were feeling welcomed from the very first moment on. There was no need to be anxious about feeling left out and to be nervous about nobody wanting to talk to you. You were having so much fun and everyone wanted to talk to you, wanting to know more about Jaemin’s girlfriend.

You hadn’t known he had already introduced you as such and felt very honored.

“Let’s have a toast!” Jaemin then raised up his shot.

“This will be our fourth toast!” a band member pointed out. “What do we still have to celebrate?”

You felt Jaemin’s strong arm around your shoulder, claiming you in front of all his friends and his entire band. “We’re celebrating her divorce. I’ve waited many years for her to separate from her husband, and now I can have her all to myself, for my entire life!”

You blushed at his loud confession. That didn’t seem like your Jaemin who you had known for so long at all. He had always been openly flirty and charming, but love confessions were never really his thing. Until now, apparently.

“So you want to marry her and spend the rest of her life with her?” someone teased. “What happened to Jaemin and when do we get him back?”

You quickly shook your head and waved aside. “Please, he’s only joking!”

“I’m quite offended you think I’m joking!” Jaemin objected and turned to you to make the conversation more private. “I mean it. We will spend the rest of our lives together. No matter where.”

This had suddenly turned into such an intimate moment, and all of his band mates sensed it which was why they pretended to be occupied with each other.

“You can’t say things like that so casually here!” you chided. “You’re probably drunk.”

“I’m actually quite sober and can think straight, and these thoughts currently always lead me to one desire: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care if you marry me or not, I just want you to always be with me. We will make it work. With your job, your dog, and your family. Even if it means I will have to come to you and live in the capital.”

“The Jaemin back then wouldn’t have uttered these words at all. He was always talking about going to America, getting famous with his music…”

“Well, I can still go to America. But with you. And one day, when you decide that you’re ready, even if we’re old and grey, we can get married.”

He then kissed you, and you dared to daydream just a little bit. In one possible future, you actually saw yourself watching your husband, Jaemin, standing on the stage of a big stadium in America while the crowd cheered, but he only had eyes for you who stood in the first row. 

One faraway possible future, you didn’t dare to venture in further, because in this one, you were still married and it would take so, so much time until you could actually think of accepting a proposal ever again.

Forgotten was the toast still, and you and Jaemin called it an early night. You were surprised, because back in the days, he would have partied until the sun went up, and longer.

“I want to spend the remaining time with you,” he only said and led you out of the venue by your hand.

Maybe, just like you and Jaehyun, Jaemin had evolved too - to the man you had always needed him to be.

____

The next morning, it had started snowing.

The blanket slipped from your naked shoulder when you arose, the mattress giving in under you as a result of you bracing your hands against the surface. Jaemin was still sleeping soundly next to you. Of course, because a brief look at your phone told you that it was only 7am on a saturday.

Yet, you didn’t want to miss this beautiful, quiet hour and slipped out of the bed. Throwing on Jaemin’s t-shirt from the night before, you walked to the big window that offered a panoramic view of the landscape. 

There were only a handful of high rise buildings in his city and no skyscrapers were seen far and wide. The horizon was a bit cloudy, but the beautiful landscape was still recognizable through the falling snow. 

You had been to Jaemin’s hometown only once when you were together as teenagers. He had been sent to Seoul to attend a better school and eventually university, but had moved back after his degree.

You loved it here, it was the entire opposite of the bustling and ever lively capital. But living here, you wondered, would you get bored eventually? It was quite the contrary to your personality, but you had always enjoyed your environment being fast and never sleeping while you stood still. It gave you the feeling of never being alone while actually being alone.

A kiss on the back of your neck let you shudder, but in a good way. You giggled and turned around to Jaemin who had his arms wrapped around you now. His muscles were well-built and tense in your grip.

“Look Jaemin, it’s snowing!” you pointed out. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Mhhmm,” he muttered, but he didn’t look. “I know a more beautiful view, and it’s also in front of me.”

His voice sounded so sexy when he had just woken up. He embraced you tighter and kissed your temple. “You’re so charming as always.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Why are you up so early already?” he then asked you and gently rocked you in his arms. “You can still sleep.”

“I know, it’s just…” You shrugged. “I want to spend as much time with you here as possible.”

“Oh, does that mean I have to get up now too?” he seemingly wailed. “But what if I don’t want to get out of bed yet? Is there something we can do in bed together?” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, but let yourself get carried, with both of your legs hooked around his waist, back to the bed. Letting out a laugh, Jaemin threw you onto the mattress and then crawled on top of you. He was still naked from last night, his muscles flexing nicely in the dim morning light.

You stretched out your arms and placed them around his neck. Gently, you pulled him close to you so that your nose tips touched, and smiled. You wanted to stop time right here and now, and bathe in this intimate moment for a while longer.

Jaemin didn’t know the words ‘enjoy’ and ‘patience’ though as not much later, sweat droplets started to collect on his chest, making his skin glisten with every shift that he performed on top of you. Your breathing came in hitches and caught every time he pushed himself deeper into you.

“You like that?” he whispered into your ear, causing goose bumps to spread all along your neck.

“I lot…” A gasp passed your lips when his wet tongue licked your earlobe.

It had slipped your mind when you had last felt this deeply satisfied. What Jaemin was doing right now even topped the events from last night when you had returned to his apartment, even though you had thought that it was impossible to top that.

You stretched out your legs and placed them around Jaemin’s waist, pushing your hips up. 

“Hm?” He raised his head and locked eyes with you, revealing a sneaky smile that was accompanied by a cocked brow to emphasize his feigned surprise. “What’s that? You’re impatient already?”

“It’s you,” you said. “I just can’t get enough.”

Jaemin lowered his head again and started sucking on the side of your neck. You were sure you would be able to see a few faint bruises later on, but it was the time to wear scarves anyway and you wanted him to mark you in every way possible. 

Your fingers entangled in his soft hair that then slipped through the gaps between them, and after a few bypassing moments of absolute stillness from his side where you slowly grew even more impatient, Jaemin started to move inside of you again. 

When you were a teenager, you had lost your virginity to Jaemin after a few months of dating. He hadn’t been as insecure, nervous and awkward as you, because of course, the most popular boy from the band had already gained experience. And it seemed like he hadn’t lacked keeping to do so.

Or how else did he know to slip out with only the tip remaining so that you could quickly catch your breath, just to thrust back inside you with full force again? You couldn’t help but scream every time he penetrated that sweet spot, and he made sure to hit with every single motion.

The sheets grew wet under you as you were sweating so much, and in the peripheral of your blurry vision, you noticed that it had turned a bit lighter already in the apartment. God, for how long had this been going on, and how much more could you take?

You were already calling out, “Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin!”, mixed with dry screams that only grew more hoarsely, but you couldn’t seem to reach the anticipated release. Whenever you faced him, you only encountered his wicked, charming grin, and were assured that release was nowhere near yet.

Time and space blurred together for you and your mouth hung open, longing for air as he ripped you off it with his thrusts, again and again. The neverending string of a nearing orgasm was always graspable, but remained out of reach as each time, Jaemin took a brief pause by halting his motions and never pulling out entirely. 

“Please…”

You didn’t know why he was doing that or where he had even learned to be this skilful to drag it out for so long, and truth to be told, you also didn’t want to know. At this point, you were only worried that he was punishing you on purpose, for dumping him back in the days, and for letting him wait for so long. Fair enough, you accepted this kind of punishment over anything else. 

Jaemin drew his face close and licked over your dry lips. “I want to hear you beg.”

You didn’t care anymore at this point. You pressed him close to you, drawing your thighs even tighter around him. “Please, Jaemin!”

“Louder.” A low growl into your ear. But eventually, you felt him moving again.

“Please, Jaemin. PLEASE!”

“Louder!” he summoned.

“JAEMIN, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I BEG YOU, PLEASE!”

The next moment, it felt like a wave came crashing down over you after trying to swim away from it all this time. It only took Jaemin two more skilled thrusts at the right angle until you let out a long-lasting scream that was on the brink of waking all the neighbors up, but you didn’t care.

You felt your insides clenching around him, your legs shaking in the aftermath while your fingers simultaneously dig deep into his skin as though you were holding onto a lifeline, nails grazing along his back and leaving long marks that would also be visible for quite a time.

Jaemin followed almost directly after you. He was gracious and quiet about it, but you knew him well enough to see that he was still enjoying it a little too much as he revealed himself by a low whimper that he tried to hide in the side of your neck, followed by a long sigh. His arms were shaking as he lost all strength and limply fell on top of you.

Your fingers were still on the back of his head, slowly stroking and comforting him while he was coming down from his heights. Your sweaty chest heaved up and down with Jaemin’s head on top of it.

For a moment, it was silent, only your regular breathing rhythms audible. 

In that moment, you wondered when you had last felt this happy.

____

“Are you with Jaemin this weekend?” 

Jaehyun’s anger was palpable through the phone. You moved away from the queue, signaling Jaemin that you had to take this call while he was lining up to buy you octopus skewers.

“Uh… I-”

Your still-husband had caught you red-handed and you didn’t know what to answer, because you hadn’t been prepared for this kind of situation. Only now, you realized that it would have been better to not have picked up the call at all when you had seen his name popping up on the display - ‘hubby’ and a heart. You still hadn’t brought yourself to change it to his government name.

“Answer me,” he demanded when your stuttering slowly grew uncomfortable and you settled for a quiet corner to talk to him.

“Jaehyun…”

“Someone sent me a video of his stories from last night and you were in it. I should have known the first thing you’d do would be running to him.”

How was that possible? You didn’t have mutual friends anymore from back then who would have cared enough as all contact had started to dwindle down at some point. And as far as you knew, these two had each other blocked everywhere. Unless they didn’t anymore and Jaehyun was lying to cover up that he had been digging.

“Jaehyun, that’s not fair at all.”

You heard a snort, followed by dead silence, but he didn’t hang up. “When did you want to tell me you were spending the weekend with my best friend?”

Dead silence again, but this time from your side of the line. Eventually, you reproached, “You haven’t been best friends for four years.”

“You told me you weren’t in contact anymore since he tried to creep back into your life even shortly after our marriage and I had to nearly physically fight him when he suddenly stood in front of our door.”

“We weren’t in contact!” you defended yourself. “But he had gotten wind of our separation and then hit me up again. Initially, it was just small talk, how I was doing and dealing with the situation. This is only the third time we've seen each other ever since. I really wasn’t in contact with him all this time, Jaehyun.”

“You never blocked his number or his socials as you had promised or otherwise, how could he have reached you?”

“I did! I told you I did, and I immediately did so back then! He contacted me from another number as he had changed his phone contract. I’ve never lied to you throughout our entire marriage! Don’t doubt me now just for me to fit your narrative, Jaehyun.”

“Hm.” He always let out this sound when he was at a loss for words, but didn’t want to drop the topic just yet. “I see.”

Somewhere in the background you heard Kang Kang and suddenly felt so guilty. Yet, you shrugged it off. You were too happy to get dragged down by his double standards right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about why I wanted to go to Jeonju. But honestly, Jaehyun, you also have a female over this weekend, don’t you?”

“I told you straight-forwardly. Also, she’s not an ex or your best friend, and certainly not my first love.”

He was right. The way you had handled this situation was certainly not pretty or fair at all. Why hadn’t you told him the moment you asked him to take care of Kang Kang? 

Perhaps, because Jaemin had always been a threat to your relationship, long before your marriage and after it too. And it had always been your fault, even though you had complied with Jaehyun's requests about blocking and deleting him.

Somehow though, whenever Jaemin wanted to find you, he always did. And he was lucky to now have found you at a time where you had wanted to be found as well.

“Jaehyun…”

He let out a long breather and you imagined him shaking his head at this very moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m calling. I just thought… It’s not even my right anymore to know who you’re with and what you’re doing, but… really, him out of all people?”

“Jaehyun…”

He hadn’t been in Jaemin’s band, but in the same class. You had always seen him around, but never interacted as you had rarely hung out with Jaemin’s friends. He hadn’t wanted that. And when you had finally had enough of his shenanigans after suffering in your on-off relationship for two years, you moved on in university - with your ex’s best friend who had happened to be the complete opposite, and everything you’d ever asked for.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep it a secret, but eventually came clean with Jaemin after a few months, who had reacted in a very mature way. Or so you had thought. You didn’t want to be friends with him as you rarely saw him anyway, but you let them be friends. Eventually, you warmed up to this new dynamic as Jaemin had once been a huge part of your life too. Nothing had seemed weird at first and Jaemin seemingly was okay with it. 

Until it all went downhill.

“Do you remember the day you told him we were engaged?” Jaehyun then asked.

Of course you remembered. Jaemin hadn’t let his true emotions slip, he hadn’t thrown a tantrum, he hadn’t said anything more than,

“Good luck. But you won’t be married for too long, because she’ll be mine again.”

And ever since then, best friends Jaehyun and Jaemin had never spoken a word to each other again.

It was eerie and sad how this prediction had eventually turned out to be true.

“I chose you, because you are kind, dedicated and warm, Jaehyun. Jaemin was fickle, unreliable and unfaithful, yes, but we were almost still kids! He’s changed.”

“That’s what you also said when I was in the army and he tried to test the waters with you again. That he’s changed, when you went back to him shortly. And look how that ended.”

“Are you bringing this up again? We were never involved in that sense again! You were in the boot camp and could only text me for one hour on the weekend, I felt lonely and we wanted to meet up as friends! I was young and stupid, how many times do you still want to hear it?”

“... And he never turned up.”

You bit into your lower lip. If you didn’t know it better, Jaehyun was hurt and jealous. But there was seriously no room for him to feel this way anymore. You were separated and it was only a matter of days until it was official. You didn’t even need to talk to him right now, but somehow, you also couldn’t bring yourself to just hang up.

“This time, he did turn up. Among many other things.” 

Only then did you realize that tears were pricking behind your eyes. In your peripheral, you could watch Jaemin ordering the skewers already, he was not supposed to see you cry.

“And you know that from a day of spending with him?”

“You know, I don’t have to justify myself in front of you, Jaehyun.”

‘If you still love me, then say it out loud!’ that was what you wanted to tell him. You wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him and ask him why he hadn’t told you so earlier. Why Jaemin had to come in between you again for him to finally open his mouth. 

At the other side of the line, it had suddenly turned quiet. 

“Are you sure about it?” you whispered into your phone. “About the divorce.”

“What is this about?” Jaehyun almost seemed angry now. “We’ve talked about it over and over again. This is for the best.”

“Then stop bothering me!”

Finally, you hung up and took a deep breather. Wiping a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand, you turned your head against the sky. It was still snowing, and the flakes melted immediately on your hot cheeks.

“Everything alright?” Jaemin asked when he had reached you. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head and accepted the skewer he was holding out to you. “No, nothing. Let’s go.”

____

Jaemin rolled his head back, his mouth falling agape.

“Yes, just like that.”

You felt his fingertips grazing over the back of your head, and then, with a firm tug, he had your hair between his fingers, tightly pulling on it. You swallowed a pained squeal, but the discomfort passed quickly as you realized it even added up to the sensation of sucking Jaemin off.

You let it slip past your mouth, only trapping the upper part between your lips, and then halted. With the tip of your tongue, you pressed down into the slit where you already tasted his sticky precum. You smiled when you heard him groan.

This time though, Jaemin didn’t let you get away with teasing him so easily. He pushed your head down his length, and as you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for this sudden action, you almost choked at him hitting the back of your throat. 

You weren’t trained in deep throating at all, the only time you had tried, you had wanted to gag so badly. Even now, it wasn’t really a cakewalk for you to suppress the reflex. But as you turned your gaze up and caught Jaemin stretched out gloriously on the couch, enjoying it with angelic moans, you gladly complied, no matter the circumstances.

Jaemin set the rhythm with his fingers still entwined in your hair. He pulled on your strands and lifted your head up his length just to slam you all the way down again until you nearly met his pelvis with your lips. It took you three tries to get rid of the gag reflex and another two to adjust to this submissive act.

“Now, suck it.”

You happily did so as it meant having a break from the excessive motions earlier, and only dedicated yourself to the upper half, sucking him off like a lollipop. You also used your tongue with which you teased him again by letting it glide over the smoothest part, just passing the frenulum. The sound he let out as a result was the loudest you had ever heard pass his lips during an intimate act.

“What was that?” he asked almost breathlessly, and looked down at you.

“You like it?” you wanted to know shyly.

“I love it!” he exclaimed and laughed. “Do it again!”

You felt Jaemin releasing himself into your mouth without a warning not much later, though you felt it pumping past your circled lips. Patiently, you waited until he was done and only let him slip out of your mouth then, falling back into a crouch and wiping over your stained mouth.

With a smirk, Jaemin patted the top of your head, then dropped his hand and angled your chin with his index finger. You faced each other, and you observed his expression changing.

“Now, your turn?” he asked with a bit of danger in his voice.

You swallowed, but didn’t hold him back. You were in for a wild ride.

That was until Jaemin’s phone rang and he needed to interrupt your act. You wanted him to ignore it, but he had already told you beforehand that he was expecting an important call. Just talk about timing…

You wondered what it could be about when you arose after Jaemin had left the room to go to another and take the call. It was kind of a long conversation as you only remembered how you went on to lie in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and losing track of time. The next moment, when Jaemin came out again, it was already dark.

You were standing by the window now, the snow still hadn’t stopped falling. As a matter of fact, it was snowing even harder, and you wondered whether by tomorrow morning, the snow would have put a white blanket over the whole country.

“What happened?” you asked, unsure what to read out of Jaemin’s undefined expression.

That was until he broke out into a beam, closed the short distance between you and swept you off your feet. He had his hands placed under your ribs and swung you around with your feet dangling above the floor. 

You laughed and asked, after he had placed you down again, “Will you tell me what happened now?”

“Great news!” Jaemin declared with your hands remaining in his. “That was a producer who’s called me. I’ve been sending demos to different companies for years now, and finally this one is interested in my music! The producer wants to meet me tomorrow, isn’t it great?!”

“Oh, Jaemin! That’s amazing to hear!”

“I know, right?I have to prepare a few things for tomorrow since I have to drive to Gwangju where the company is located, do you mind?” He suddenly drew his brows together and looked very concerned. “I know we had dinner plans, but…”

You immediately shook your head. Of course, disappointment sank into your stomach as you had especially looked forward to this fancy dinner with him. It was your last night together as you were supposed to go home the next day, but another part, a bigger part, didn’t want to be so selfish. She knew that music had always been Jaemin’s dream, and if he could make it his main occupation, who were you to stop him?

“I’m gonna make up for it!” he immediately apologized, led your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Tomorrow, fancy brunch or lunch before you leave?”

You nodded, very well aware of the fact that knowing Jaemin for the passionate man that he was, neither brunch or lunch would take place tomorrow. Somehow, it was all high school again, but you were more mature now and there was no room for your own, selfish needs.

Jaemin let go of you and dedicated himself to his music station where he gathered together a few documents. “Imagine,” he then summoned, “if it’s really going to work out and I am really going to be big with my band, we could play so many shows or even do a tour - maybe internationally too! And I would take you with me of course! To America!”

“Jaemin, I have a dog to take care of and a job I’m really dedicated to, you know that. I cannot be on the road for months.” Had he forgotten the words from last night where he had offered to move to the capital for you? Had your wants been overshadowed by his daydreams once again like back in the days?

“Oh yeah…” He scratched the back of his head, but then beamed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a solution!”

Again, he was proposing something so far off into the future without asking what you wanted. Aside from the fact that you liked living a domestic life with a stable job and a routine, you didn’t want to be separated from your dog. Or your family, especially your grandmother yet.

And that was what Jaemin didn’t get… again. Just like the fact that you couldn’t think of another marriage already when you were still with one foot inside your current one.

He was impulsive, dreamy and so demanding. But this was what you had wanted, right? Someone to take things into his own hands and consider you in his future, whether you fit in or not.

“Yes, we’ll find a solution,” you eventually replied as he was expecting an answer. And who knew, perhaps you would really find one.

Jaemin turned back to this work and rambled on about how great of a life you two would have together.

Would you, though?

Your current life as it was, was already perfect for you. Just the man in it hadn’t been.

____

With shaking hands, you swiped over your phone screen until, from your blurry vision, you finally saw your husband’s name pop up. Hubby and a heart next to it. You still hadn’t changed it, and for now, you were glad for that as it had made finding his contact easier.

It was only 7am on a sunday, but you knew Jaehyun would pick up no matter how early or late, no matter what, regardless of your dispute from the day before. He had promised.

“Grandmother is in the hospital,” you cried into the phone the moment the ringing stopped. “And I- I can’t go back. I-I don’t have a car and I’m in J-Jeonju, the trains are not running because of the heavy snowfall and I don’t know how to get back, how to get to my grandmother. Jaehyun… C-can you-”

It was rustling on the other line and from your peripheral, you could see Jaemin watching you with a displeased face. 

No questions asked. Jaehyun’s voice was still so deep and raspy as you had just woken him up, but his head was as clear as ever. “Send me the address, I’ll take the car and come pick you up.”

“Th-there is snow everywhere! It’ll probably take hours.”

He didn’t ask why Jaemin wouldn’t drive you or why Jaehyun himself should do this even though you were separated. At this moment, none of this mattered except the fact that he needed to bring you to your grandmother. 

“I don’t care.” There was some noise on his end of the line, and you could have sworn you also heard a female whispering something, but none of this mattered. “I’ll get going now and will text you the estimated arrival time.”

He didn’t care about the weather, the amounts of snow blocking the streets, whether he would even get through the traffic, none of this mattered.

“Thank you,” you whispered through your sobs.

It was like he still wanted to say something, but only brought himself to end the call with, “See you.”

Jaemin waited for you to finish typing the address for Jaehyun first before he spoke up. “I wish I could change things.”

“You can!” you yelled at him, having suppressed your anger for an hour already.

At 6am, you had been unexpectedly awakened by a call from your mother that held unfortunate news you never wished upon anyone to ever receive: Your grandmother was in the hospital as she had fallen in the bathroom that night and had been unconscious for a few hours before she could call anyone for help.

And Jaemin’s reaction? 

He fell into silence again.

“You can change things, but you don’t want to,” you repeated through tears and fled out of the bed as you couldn’t physically bear being close to him anymore.

“That’s not it…” His feeble attempts to defend himself were all to no avail as expected. “It’s just a once in a lifetime chance, if I need to cancel, I might not be able to…”

“My grandmother can also live just this lifetime! I only have her for one lifetime,” you hissed, not sparing him a single glance as you started to throw your belongings into your bag. “She’s fighting for her life in the hospital and you think your music appointment is more important than driving me there? It’s only in the evening, and you’re worried you won’t make it back to your appointment on time, because of the snow?”

“We called your parents and the hospital already.” His voice got louder, more determined now, though it was nothing compared to yours. “She’s fine. You can probably take the train by midday, maybe even forenoon, anyway. I’m just being realistic.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you? Probably because no one has ever been this important to you.”

The moment you had spoken the words out loud, you already regretted it, but an apology refused to pass your lips as Jaemin only said,

“You are this important to me.”

“I don’t believe you as you cannot even do this for me.”

His music was more important, his career and everything connected to it. It would always, always come first, and this was something that was never going to change, and had never changed, you saw it clearly now. 

Your relationship in your adulthood was merely a projection of what it had already been in high school.

Nothing had changed.

____

Jaehyun picked you up from a nearby café four hours later. 

You had directly left Jaemin’s apartment the moment you had gathered all your belongings and hadn’t looked back - neither had he. He hadn’t changed his mind about the situation and he hadn’t tried to hold you back, no matter how much you had wished for it. 

You were standing in front of the café, still in your joggers and with tousled hair, freezing to your bones as the snow touched your naked ankles, but at least Jaehyun was here, regardless of the weather, his appointments and the time.

He was here.

He had always been here. 

You had just been too blind to see it.

The moment he opened the car door at your side, you broke out into tears again, unable to move, and it caused him to actually get out of the car himself to then approach you. 

Suddenly, it got so warm around you despite the weather, and even with your teary eyes closed you realized that Jaehyun had pulled you into an embrace. With his slender fingers, he brushed over the back of your head in a comforting gesture as you sobbed into his jacket.

“Your grandmother will be fine,” he whispered into your hair, unaware of the fact that you were currently not crying over your grandmother anymore, but over the fact that he was here regardless of how ridiculous it might sound.

He had made it through the snow chaos and traffic just to bring you home safely. If this wasn’t what your marriage vows had been about, then what was? Was that what your grandmother had been talking about?

You had two hours to think about it as you made your way back to the capital. There were many things you wanted to ask Jaehyun. How serious it was with that woman, if she was mad he had suddenly left her for his soon-to-be ex-wife and if he himself was mad that he was here now. But first and foremost…

“Why did you come?”

“I told you, you could always call me. No matter how late… or early in this case, I’ll always be there. Despite that, I care about your grandmother and your entire family, too. For a large part of my life, they were also my family.”

“They will always be, Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

His gaze was too focused on the street ahead of you as though it was taking him everything in his might to just keep his eyes averted from you. The majority of the snow had been cleared from the streets already so that cars could drive without many obstacles again. 

“Are you sure about it?” you repeated from your disrupted phone call the day before. “Are you sure about the divorce?”

“Why does it matter?” he asked back strictly. “Haven’t you moved on with my former best friend already, this time for good, because he’s changed so much?”

“That’s not an answer, Jaehyun.”

You had no reason to feel so attacked, but it still hurt, because he was wrong, even though Jaehyun didn’t know it yet. Jaemin hadn’t changed at all, and you were too proud to admit it. Perhaps though, you had overreacted as well. Perhaps, everything would have gone so well if only you had been calmer and more rational, and had actually listened to Jaemin. Perhaps, you had done Jaemin so wrong. 

But Jaehyun was now in the car, driving you back home, and not Jaemin, right? Jaehyun was here, and not Jaemin.

“On the way to Jeonju,” he started, “I had a few hours to think about everything. Have we given it all? Was a divorce really our last solution? What could I have done differently, what could you have differently for us to avoid this outcome. And I just… couldn’t come up with an answer. 

“Which means, on the contrary, perhaps a divorce was not a solution either,” you concluded. “But we’ve lived in separation for half a year at that point, Jaehyun. And we were fine with it. We’ve had many talks, so why are we here, ripping open this wound again? What’s the purpose? I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that it only took one weekend for us to doubt this decision.”

“Perhaps, there is none,” he said, and shrugged. “Perhaps, it’s all about what makes us happy, after all. And finding out you lied to me and spent the weekend with him, didn’t make me happy at all.”

Now that he was so honest with you, you could be honest with him too. “I also wasn’t happy when you told me you would get a female visitor this weekend.”

A long pause followed the conversation before you confessed,

“But you picking up the phone and being here with me now, makes me really happy.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “I’m also happy you called me and didn’t rely on him.”

He didn’t ask what exactly had happened with Jaemin, and you also didn’t ask him about the other woman when you arrived at his empty home much later that day to pick up your dog after having visited your grandmother together first. 

She didn’t get hurt except for a bruise by her hip and would be fine after being taken care of in the hospital for a few days. You visited her every day for one week straight, but on neither of these days did you see Jaehyun or Jaemin.

The fact that you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you were too caught up with everything going on at this point that you couldn't waste too many unnecessary thoughts in their behaviors.

____

A week later, you and your mother returned home with your grandma. Despite her refusing your offer, you had still insisted on taking one week off from work and living with her, just in case something could happen again and until she regained her health. 

Nevertheless, you as a family had all agreed on hiring a caretaker that would look after her half a day and who would start right after your week off with her. After a few attempted protests from your grandma’s side though, she had eventually given in as well.

“Where’s all the food I requested?” you asked in astonishment as you opened shelf after shelf in your grandmother’s kitchen, but each of them you found empty. “Didn’t father and uncle do grocery shopping? I made an entire list for them and they knew she’d return today.”

“Oh, they were busy last night,” your mother explained after she had taken your grandmother to her bedroom. “They’ll do it later today.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the wave of reproach against your family. “Busy with watching football all night long probably. What did they think would happen when we came back home with grandmother? There are no ingredients to make food for her and when I looked into the bathroom, she had also run out of toilet paper. What were they thin-”

“Honey…” Your mom placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but somehow, her not getting as heated up as you was making you even more disappointed. Were you the only one who cared? “Please be reassured that everything is going to be fine.”

“How?” you asked back, a tinge of anger in your voice. “We come back and the sheets are not washed, we have nothing we can make food of for her and we cannot even-”

Your mom exhaled deeply as she tried to convince you again, “Let’s just order the most important necessities online, okay? Then your father and uncle will bring the rest later today, it’s really not a big deal.”

“Sweetheart, will you come here, please?” you heard your grandmother suddenly disrupt your conversation. 

You let out a long sigh, threw another glare at your mom and then left for the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, grandma,” you apologized as you popped into her bedroom with your head first. “I will go to the store right now to bring you the necessities. You don’t need to worry about this, please relax.”

“I do not worry about this,” she reassured you. “I feel so fine here. And you do not need to worry that much either, it’s all going to be fine.”

“No,” you cried out and shook your head, tears welling up on the brim of your eyes. All your feelings came crashing down on you at once, feelings that you had tried to push aside for an entire week. “Nothing is ever going to be fine again!”

You sat down by her bedside and dropped your head. Her soft, warm hand found your fingers and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Is this about your husband?”

“Yes,” you admitted, and ‘no’ you wanted to say simultaneously as this wasn’t about your husband alone. Perhaps, now ex-husband on official papers even. “Why did he never show up again after going to the hospital with me the first day? I thought… he still cared, not only about me, but about you too. I’m so disappointed. I thought he was different.”

The last sentence was dedicated to both of them, though you confessed silently to yourself that you had never expected this from Jaehyun, out of the two. 

“But dear… he did come.”

You lifted your head and wiped away a tear that had dangled on the corner of your eye as you faced your grandmother with much surprise. “What are you saying, grandma?”

“He came every single day in the morning before work, we talked for half an hour when I was awake. I thought you knew?”

You had no idea, and looking at your grandma now, who was grinning widely and also a bit sneakily, made you assume that perhaps, she had kept it a secret on purpose - because the effect, when you found out, would be so much more impactful.

And it was.

“Grandma, I had no idea…”

“That’s why I asked you, before you decided to separate, did you really give it your all and tried everything possible to fix your marriage before moving on? Because, as far as I can see, you’re not the only one not ready to do so entirely.”

“I… I can’t say. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter anymore, grandma,” you eventually said. “Even if we both wanted it, it’s too late. He has probably already signed the papers and sent them out.”

“Fine. But don’t forget my words. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.” She leaned back into the pillows. “It’s almost afternoon, I want to sleep. Can you close the door behind you then, dear?”

“Of course.” You gave her a kiss on the forehead and quietly walked out of her room.

Back in the kitchen, you saw your mom sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. Why was she not up and about yet to do some grocery shopping or at least call your father to do the trip? You were fed up by now, fueled by your grandmother’s words too.

“Mom, I’m going to the store and I’ll take your car.”

“Okay.”

That was it. You knew she had had a lot on her plate too, but why did everyone not take this situation seriously enough? 

When you put on your jacket as it was freezing outside, you wondered whether you were overreacting and just putting all your time and energy into this situation, moving here and taking care of things, just so you didn’t need to think about how your own life was falling apart. As long as you could take care of someone else, you didn’t need to face your own problems. Hadn’t this been the root of your downfall as well?

After all, when you returned home after this week, you would get a call from your lawyer to confirm that the divorce was through. You had specifically requested for him not to call while you were here.

What then, after that? Then, you were a divorced woman, and you weren’t ready to settle with this term yet.

“Careful!”

You nearly ran into a tall figure when you opened the entrance door. A familiar scent touched your nose, strong hands holding you by your arms so that you could keep your balance after the impact. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked Jaehyun as your gaze simultaneously scanned his appearance, and you spotted two big bags of groceries to either of his sides on the floor. 

“I thought since your grandmother would come home today, you would need a helping hand,” he stated and pointed at the grocery bags. You saw toilet paper, rice, water, and other necessities peeking out. “I didn’t know what to buy, so I just brought a bit of everything. Is that… okay?”

You couldn’t help yourself but fell into his arms, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulder, and suddenly, this entire situation didn’t seem so difficult and hopeless anymore.

You had felt so left alone, like you had overreacted and that your feelings weren’t valid. But now your husband was here, having shown up in ways nobody else was. Your feelings were valid, they had always been to him.

Perhaps, your grandmother had been right all along. 

No, you hadn’t tried everything possible, because this clearance came way too late now, and you couldn’t apologize anymore for sometimes being a selfish, spoiled brat that had demanded much more from her husband than he was able to give. And always, you had wanted more and more.

Your views on life and the way you wanted to live it had started to take separate roads and you had thought this was not fixable anymore, but was that really what mattered after all?

It wasn’t about who was there for you all the time. Your problems couldn’t have been solved in that way either. That was why it couldn’t have worked out with Jaemin too. It wasn’t about this at all.

It was about who showed up during the times you truly needed someone. And it was always Jaehyun. When you needed support, a helping hand or someone to call during an emergency, he had always been there.

If you needed someone at all times, it could be anyone. But if you needed someone when times were hard, it was Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun. 

“Your grandma is going to be fine,” Jaehyun whispered and gently patted the back of your head.

But you weren’t crying over your grandmother anymore, but about your failed marriage.

Because yes, you regretted it deeply and had not given it your all.

Because now, it was too late.

Neither of you spoke about the divorce papers that day.

____

Jaehyun didn’t come over anymore and neither did you reach out to him during the week you lived with your grandmother. 

You were determined to make it on your own from then on. Very soon, you were an official divorcée and single dog mom, so it was better to start early with this new lifestyle. Knowing you too well, Jaehyun might have already sensed it as he was leaving you completely alone during that time.

You brought Kang Kang with you to live and thus your days started with walking your dog before helping your grandmother get ready and preparing breakfast that you eventually ate together just like the other meals. Even though your grandmother was still able to do most things by herself, you noticed how slower, shakier and sometimes disoriented she had become. 

Time was not stopping, for nobody.

During the day you were occupied with doing chores, taking care of paperwork as well as your grandmother and Kang Kang. At the end of each day, you fell into your bed, absolutely exhausted and tired. Your mind was always occupied as well and there was no space for other things except for those brief moments during nighttime when you were alone and neither busy in a physical way or in your mind.

Then, you stared at the ceiling and wept.

Because you missed Jaehyun so badly and wished for him to be with you. You would have done anything for him to be here right now, but your marriage was over and you needed to move on without him. 

Everyday with this realization was hard, but luckily, no day grew harder than the day before. Eventually, they would only grow brighter.

That was your silver lining. 

____

Realizing that you wanted to be with Jaehyun after all, meant in retrospect that you couldn’t be with Jaemin. And just because you couldn’t be with Jaehyun, didn’t mean you should be with Jaemin. That was not how it worked, unfortunately.

“Hey, it’s me,” you spoke on the phone, watching the skyline from your window the first night you had returned to your home. 

He had promised to always pick up when you called, but this time, he hadn’t. You were struggling to come to terms with the fact that he indeed didn’t want to be reached by you either this time. Perhaps, not anymore at all.

You remembered why you had married Jaehyun.

You had married him, because he took care of the people he loved, because he made things seem more bearable when they weren’t and because when he said he would pick up whenever you called, he actually did. That was not a void Jaemin could just fill.

You would always search for a Jaehyun in his eyes, and that was not fair, because he was not. He was Jaemin, an entirely different person. And there was a person out there that would be perfect for him, too.

“I just wanted to tell you that this is the last time you will ever hear from me.” Softly, Kang Kang was snoring in the corner, filling the pause that then followed.

Maturing was realizing that just because you wanted to be with someone, you shouldn’t be with them. Maturing was realizing that only because you didn’t want to be alone, you should be with someone. Maturing was realizing that even on the third try, some people still weren’t meant to be together.

Tears sprang from your eyes, but your voice gave no hint of it. “Truth to be told, I am very disappointed that you never showed up again… called me, or at least sent a message, asked me how we are. It was a very hard time for me and you just… weren’t there.”

But someone else had been. You dried your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“Yes, I could have messaged or called you too… but why should I have when I was the one suffering? Admittedly, I also didn’t need to. I handled it all myself very well. That made me realize… I wanted this, Jaemin. I wanted this so much, with you. But I didn’t need it. I don’t need you. And the past weeks made me realize that you feel the same. You don’t need me either.”

You could live without Jaehyun and you could live without Jaemin, you just had to be strong enough to make it on your own now that you had neither. 

And you would make it on your own. 

You had the drive, passion and strength all within you, you just had failed to notice for so long. After all, you had been able to take care of your grandmother, dog and everyone around you for the past weeks. So taking care of yourself wouldn’t be harder than that.

Had you broken down and experienced weak moments? Yes, several times. But that had only made you stronger.

“I’m strong and not afraid, I will always make it on my own. And you will make it too. Go out into the world, perhaps even travel to America where you always wanted to go, make your dream about music come true… I wish for you to achieve everything you’ve ever wanted, with my whole heart.” You swallowed hard and added, “It’s just not going to be with me. I don’t know where my place is yet, but it’s not by your side.”

For now, your best companion was yourself. And your dog. And actually, that was enough.

You finished speaking on the mailbox with, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You didn’t hesitate to delete his number and block him all across social media. This time, for good.

The fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night would be your own little secret to keep, but it would also be the very last time you would find yourself in a position to cry over Jaemin, ever.

The next morning, you felt free. The air was clear and crisp. It was cloudy, but not snowing. Thank god.

____

“I apologize for having to tell you this, but Mr. Jeong hasn’t signed the divorce papers.”

“Pardon me?” 

It had been a dreadful feeling to take the call from your lawyer the next morning. The more surprised you were about the actual message he had just passed down to you. Your breath caught.

“His lawyer told me he refuses to sign them and sent them back to me unsigned, that’s why I couldn’t send them to you yet.”

You frowned as you suddenly turned utterly confused. “But why? What did he say? Is there something he still wants to negotiate over?”

“They didn’t tell me, just that he refuses to sign them. I’ll resolve this for you, be at ease.”

“Don’t,” you held him back. “I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re not allow-”

But you had already hung up and were halfway out of the door, he didn’t even come to end his sentence.

____

Not even an hour later, you were standing in front of Jaehyun’s apartment door, ringing the bell like a maniac. He looked at you like he had expected you already as you stood in front of him with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“Took you long enough.”

“Care to explain to me why you sent the documents back unsigned?”

“Come inside,” he invited you calmly.

Your eyes narrowed. “Your girlfriend doesn't mind?”

“We haven’t seen each other since that weekend… and I rather want it to stay this way.”

Your heart jumped. That basically meant they weren’t together anymore, you concluded as you followed him into his apartment and took your shoes off in the corridor. 

“What about Jaemin?” 

“Same.”

It seemed that you both didn’t want to talk about your past lovers, and even though you were curious, if he had to elaborate, then you needed to as well, and there was no way you would ever want to live through the past weeks again.

“I was thinking about our conversation in the car back from Jeonju,” he began as he shifted around to face you the moment you arrived in the living room, “about what makes me happy. When we were separated, we didn’t see each other, and I was happy living a life I haven’t gotten a taste of before. I was happy doing new stuff, trying out new things, being untied from you. Because what made me unhappy… was you.”

Your eye twitched as you didn’t know whether you should feel offended now. But when you let the words sink in and contemplated them, you felt exactly the same. Seeing and spending time with your husband had dreaded you of all your energy and happiness as you two had forgotten how to be happy together anymore.

And you told him exactly that now.

“I agree.” He nodded. “And then I thought about what made me really unhappy. Because up until two weeks ago, I was really happy. And then came you, and you made me feel so miserable.”

You drew your brows together, not quite sure if you had heard right. But you had, and it stung. No, it actually hurt very much that it took all your might to refrain yourself from crying right now. “I… still make you unhappy?”

But Jaehyun’s facial expression didn’t match his words as he nodded. His features were soft, a slight smile playing around his lips. There was no way he could find this amusing?

“It makes me unhappy to see you unhappy. It makes me unhappy to see you suffering because of your grandmother and simultaneously getting mistreated by the guy who is supposed to make you happy. Because if he can’t do it, who will? I was just too blind to see this.”

You dropped your gaze. Jaehyun had. He had shown up in ways nobody else ever had. Just to… see you happy, because he couldn’t stand the thought of you being sad and miserable?

Knowing he was pushing so far, he didn’t wait for you to reply, but instead wanted to know, “What makes you unhappy?”

“When you’re not with me.”

With slow steps, he approached you until he stood tall and calm in front of you. You lifted your head and looked into his clear and sincere eyes.

“Please don’t ask me what will make me happy, Jaehyun,” you pleaded him straight-forwardly. “Because I’m not sure whether you’d like the answer.”

“What if I’d like to hear it?”

You furrowed in worry. “At all cost?”

Jaehyun inhaled sharply as though in tension, but his soft features remained. 

“What if you don’t like it?” you asked.

“You will never know if you don’t try, right?”

‘If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.’ You remembered your grandmother’s words too well.

He didn’t expect it though when you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. 

He still tasted exactly like in your memories.

____

“Are you excited, Kang Kang?” 

Your dog yelped and ran around in circles. You patted his head when he eventually came to a standstill in front of you and looked up to you with big eyes.

“Are you excited to live with your dad again?”

As though in response, Kang Kang started to whirl around again and you laughed. Lately, you found yourself laughing very often, and every time it came from deep within you with all sincerity and happiness. 

In the past two weeks, your grandmother had started to settle with her new caretaker so that you could cut down your visits to once or twice a week, because you were currently busy moving houses. But each time, Jaehyun came with you, and your grandmother was overjoyed.

You had decided to move into a new home together that wasn’t riddled with memories of a very unpleasant phase in your marriage that had almost ended it for good. It was just as big and beautiful as this apartment, but you had already agreed that that one would only be a temporary home as well.

Maybe, not too far in the future, you could move outside of the city where Kang Kang would have a garden to run around in and where he would have playmates, maybe both, a boy and girl.

You blushed at the thought and looked at the engagement ring and wedding band that you had been wearing again since the day you had found out that your husband had never signed the divorce papers.

Just because you could make it on your own didn’t mean you wanted and needed to. After all, you had given a vow to each other, because somewhere in the past, you were so happy, you had agreed on spending the rest of your lives with each other. And that meant something, so much more than anyone not married could imagine. 

You weren’t walking down the aisle thinking you’re going to get divorced. You got married, because this was supposed to be forever.

Yes, it was right that it took much less to turn “Till death do us part” into “Till your lack of time for me do us part”, but unlike the worst case scenario, everything else was fixable. 

The movers were busy carrying down the last boxes with your stuff while you put Kang Kang on a leash. Looking around your old apartment for one last time, you bid farewell to this home of yours that not only bore bliss, but also destruction. But you had come out of it stronger, better than before.

You wouldn’t say that all your differences were now solved by deciding to get back together. Love alone couldn’t magically make them disappear, that was not how it worked. But you had talked long about this, what you needed to get back to where you had once been.

You had thought of your grandmother’s words every so often. No, you had not given it all yet, you eventually had to admit to her personally too, and she had only smiled, as though in knowing. Jaehyun and you both still had, apart from love of course, the passion, the determination, the strength. And hope. 

As long as there was that, your marriage was fixable.

And this time, you would make sure nothing would do you part again.

“The movers are ready, so we should get to the car. Here, let me take Kang Kang.”

Your heart was full of love and hope too when Jaehyun appeared at your door with a smile and took the leash from you after giving you a kiss on your cheek. 

Jaehyun was a husband who took care of things, so that you wouldn’t need to. Wasn’t this what marriage was about? Making each other’s lives easier and happier, because life itself was already hard enough.

Your grandmother had realized this very early. What a woman.

You didn’t think of Jaemin that often anymore. Only every now and then, he involuntarily crossed your mind and tugged on your heartstrings as a strong memory that day by day slowly faded, too. His face became blurry when you tried to remember his exact features, and eventually, he would only be a flash of a picture among a string of memories when you thought back to this time. As it had always been.

The only difference was that you had shut down every possibility of reaching out on either side. When you caught yourself wanting to unblock him and look him up on social media, you put your phone aside and let the feeling pass. It really worked wonders.

And one day, even this urge would perish.

When you stepped onto the streets that were still layered with a thin sheen of snow and ice, you noticed that the sun was shining and a touch of spring lingered in the air. The temperature would start to get warmer soon as well.

Your husband helped Kang Kang into the back of the car before he circled it and opened the door for you. And that was it, the huge difference. So subtle, but so grave all at once, it nearly made your heart burst.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jaehyun asked.

And finally, you answered, “Yes, I really want to go home.”  

Winter was still here, but in your heart, it was already summer when your husband took your hand.

You wanted rays of sunshine, warm breezes, salt on your skin and the chanting of crickets.

You wanted it to always be summer.

You wanted your husband.

____

One month prior

Jaemin had followed you all the way back to Seoul that very same day your grandmother had been admitted to the hospital, ditching the biggest opportunity in his entire life after all.

After he had seen you so disappointed and sad, mostly because of him, your expression hadn’t left his mind for hours. When it dawned on him what he was doing to you, letting you down in a very crucial situation, he wanted to beat himself up for being such a selfish idiot once again and had directly made his way to the café where you had fled to. But when he had arrived, you were already gone. 

Following you all the way to Seoul, he had been thinking of all the ways he could make it up to you. He had booked a hotel in the city and prepared to stay there for as long as you needed him. But when he had arrived, he saw you in front of the hospital and you weren’t alone. 

You had been with your husband and he had held you close as you cried in his arms, he had seen it all from his car.

He was too late again, he had thought. But when he had looked closer, the way Jaehyun was holding you and consoling you, he knew that timing wasn’t the problem, it had never been. 

You couldn’t be hugged like this by anyone. Jaemin couldn’t embrace you the way Jaehyun did, and it turned out to be a painful realization for him. It couldn’t be him, it also couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun.

___

“May I come in?”

Jaemin stood in front of Jaehyun’s door later that fateful day after you had left with your dog, facing his former best friend in person for the first time in many years. 

Occasionally, he would look at his social media after he had found out on a random day that Jaehyun had unblocked him and vice versa. Somehow, they still wanted to know what the other was up to, who they were up to with. The irony of that.

Jaehyun remained quiet, but pushed the door open for him. 

“Why are you here?” Jaehyun then asked him when they reached the living room. “She’s not here.”

“I know,” Jaemin answered. “I came for you.”

“So?” He braced his arm against the table and leaned back. “The invitations for the tea party are not out yet.”

“There is no need to be so condescending.” At this point, Jaemin was just so tired and wanted to leave this all behind him. “After today, I will be out of your lives, forever.”

“Sounds tempting. But as you know, we will be officially divorced soon, so she’s all yours to have.”

“But I’m not the one she needs.”

Jaehyun drew his brow together. “You’re the one she wants to be with.”

He smiled mildly and repeated, “But I’m not the one she needs. We don’t need to be together a fourth time to figure this out. You show up in ways I will never be able to, you’re the one she needs, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

“Well… you’re too late.” Jaehyun shrugged. “I’ll sign the papers and will send them to my lawyer tomorrow. You think she’s some puppet you can toss around when you’re done playing just to pick her up again when it’s convenient for you? That’s not how relationships work.”

“I know.” Jaemin dropped his head in regret. “I’ve never wanted all of this. I’ve always wanted the best for…”

“...yourself,” Jaehyun ended the sentence aloud.

“... her,” Jaemin ended the sentence in his head.

And even though everything was different now, even though he had evolved and grown so much as a person, it was easier to let them believe that he was still the selfish, hard-headed Jaemin from the past. 

After all, he couldn't hold her like Jaehyun to make her feel so happy. 

It had to be someone particular. It had to be him.

And if he would be gone, then no one could make her happy anymore.

So Jaemin dashed forward and grabbed his former friend by the collar. Jaehyun was too perplexed to instantly react and just faced his opposite with a shocked expression.

“Listen up,” Jaemin growled, “if you send out signed divorce papers, I will come for you in the worst way possible. If you don’t rekindle this marriage with her, I will make your life a living hell. We might not like each other anymore, but we both love her, and if I ever see you making her sad again, you can dig your own grave. You will fix this marriage, no matter the cost, are we in the clear?”

He slowly let go of Jaehyun after luring out a reluctant nod from him. Latter cleared his throat and asked, “... but, do you think she even still wants to be with me?”

This time, Jaemin’s smile was sincere. “I’m absolutely sure about that. Show her again the reason why she was picking you over me, again and again. Remind her of all the traits that make you so much better for her than me, and she will choose you again. If she hasn’t already. Or do you not want t-”

“I do!” Jaehyun blurted out. “I absolutely do.”

Jaemin stretched out his arm and gave his former friend’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Very well.”

When he made his way to the door, Jaehyun stopped him with the words, “Thank you. Honestly.”

Initially, he wanted to turn around, but it was starting to burn behind his eyes, so Jaemin kept his back turned to Jaehyun and said,

“Don’t make me regret this.”

____

Jaemin threw his phone into the bushes on his way out.

So, what now?

He turned his head to the sky, and even though the tears started streaming down his face now, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and smiled through the blurriness. The wind was cold and burned his wet cheeks, and suddenly, it started snowing again.

This pain would vanish, he was sure of that. When you had fixed your marriage, got children and grew old together, his pain would eventually pass in this timeline. 

Yet, at that moment, it felt like it ripped Jaemin’s heart to shreds, even to the point where he wondered if he was actually tricking himself into believing that he would be fixed again or had to live the rest of his life with this ache slowly eating him up from the inside until there was nothing left of him anymore except for the frayed edges of his once so lively soul.

Jaemin took a deep breather and swallowed the next wave of tears.

He had no regrets, despite everything. And he still had hope. As long as there was that and he was able to hold onto these faint strings, he would continue on.

A fresh start, that was what he needed now as he trotted to his car. Far away from you and Jaehyun so that your paths would never cross again in this lifetime. That was the last selfless act he could still offer to you.

America sounded good.

[illbegottenfaith]

spend your cookie dough dough dough spend it on my heart

you have a hard time being spoiled by your boyfriend, even if it's the holidays (theo nott x reader)

a/n - I didn't want to do a full buy me presents fic again this year so this is just a quick funny lil drabble ft. THE most obnoxiously wealthy slytherin boy

warnings/tropes - fluff, established relationship, gift giving, (slightly) moody!theo, humour

word count - 1k

You didn't like surprises. Unfortunately, you had the bad luck of having a rather unpredictable boyfriend. You should have known it was a useless idea, making him promise to cool it with the gift-giving this holiday season.

It had been a peaceful enough evening. You were in the Astronomy Tower, looking out through your binoculars at the autumn landscape that was speedily approaching winter. You felt a pair of arms encircling you, and a familiar chest being pressed against your back. You dropped your gaze to where the extra pair of hands had settled on the railing, holding a slim black box adorned with a disgustingly festive red bow.

"Merry Christmas, tesoro," Theo whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. You giggled softly as you turned your head to kiss the corner of his mouth. He moved to stand next to you, watching your face as he handed you the gift.

You nervously opened the box. You stared at the gift inside for a good minute. You closed the box. There was a faint ringing in your ears.

"I thought we agreed to go easy on the gifts this year," you said, in a tight voice that sounded far too high-pitched even to your own ears.

"We did."

You looked at the box. Theo looked at the box. You looked at Theo. Theo looked back at you.

"This is you going easy?"

"Yes. I left out the six-piece band this time, see?"

Merlin, this boy was going to be the death of you.

"What? Is something wrong?" He straightened, turning the box towards himself and opening it to check. When nothing seemed amiss, he handed it back to you, confusedly searching your face. "Do you not like it?"

Like it? Your heart panged the second you laid eyes on it, with the joy that came with an almost-forgotten lover returning from a war. Forget Theo, this was your soulmate. Glitzy and delicate and dazzling and glamorous -

No. You had to keep your wits about you.

"Theodore."

"Y/N."

"Are you...absolutely mental?" Your voice didn't carry the heat of your words, but it was all you could manage, given how woozy the sight of the gift had made you feel. You pressed a palm to your forehead. People didn't pass out over morbidly expensive gifts, did they?

"I don't understand," Theo was saying. "What's wrong with it?"

You struggled with your words for a moment. "This is too much, Theo."

"Too much?"

"It's too luxurious of a gift." Your eyes fluttered shut, and although you had only briefly glanced at the gift, its every detail was etched into your memory. It was almost physically painful to think about it, knowing you couldn't possibly accept it. "And it's definitely worth far too much money."

"Y/N." Theo had sailed past impatience straight into annoyance. If you weren't careful, that vein in his forehead would be making an appearance soon. "I think I can decide for myself how much to spend on my girlfriend."

You opened your eyes. "That's where you're wrong."

You could see him fuming in the stubborn set of his jaw. "You've never had this kind of a problem before. I pay for our dates all the time."

You gaped at him, momentarily speechless. How was he keeping a straight face through all of this? Was he actually serious?

"Theo," you started, trying your hardest to sound patient, "there is a difference between buying me a drink and - and this."

"With how much butterbeer you drink? It comes out to about the same price, actually."

You scoffed exasperatedly, lifting whatever you were holding to smack Theo with it in the shoulder, as you were wont to do. Unfortunately, this time it happened to be the open box holding Theo's gift, making you shriek and nearly fall out of the Astronomy Tower in your bid to rescue it.

"Right," Theo said tersely, once he had planted you firmly back inside the tower, with a look that told you he thought you were being absolutely ridiculous, "I'll just give this to my other girlfriend, then."

"Theo -"

"No, no, I get it. Maybe I've misunderstood our relationship. I'll just shower all my love and affection on some other girl."

You frowned at him impatiently. "Don't sulk, Teddy. I love it, really, I do - "

"Then what's the problem? It's my money to spend as I see fit, Y/N. Maybe - maybe - it's a little pricey, but so what? A guy can't spoil his girl for the holidays?"

Ah. There it was. The vein. You chewed the inside of your cheek. The both of you could see you relenting, bit by bit.

"It's just - I can never measure up -"

"That's ridiculous." Theo gently removed the thin diamond bracelet from the box's velvety insides. "I buy you things that I want you to have. I don't care what you do or don't get me."

"You're a terrible boyfriend, Nott." Still, it was hard to stay upset watching your boyfriend tenderly latch the elegant, sophisticated bracelet around your wrist. "Impossible to shop for. Have I mentioned that?"

Theo paused to appreciate the way the diamonds glittered in the evening sun, before raising your hand to press a kiss to your palm.

"Seeing you wear this is present enough."

You pulled your hand out of his grip, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed by the ludicrous gift. It was obscene, really. Then again, it must be the only type of gift the obscenely wealthy knew to give. You shook your wrist experimentally. "What if it falls off?"

"I'll buy you another. Then another, and another, and another."

"I hope you realise what a dangerous philosophy that is. My clumsiness knows no bounds."

[astarionxhappiness]

Summary: Astarion gets badly injured in a fight, and you have to take care of him while waiting to be found.

Word count: 5,781

Warnings: Astarion being hurt.

It was just another fight.

That was what you thought, at least.

Just another day of danger and adventure.

Never for a second when you woke up that morning did you think you and your companions would be scrambling for your lives.

"Head for the cave!" You heard Shadowheart scream to you over the sounds of the exploding fireballs.

Smoke filled the air thickly, making it hard to see. The thick smoke filled your lungs, making it hard to breath.

Your eyes darted around, trying to find the location she spoke of.

You tensed as a large hand wrapped around your bicep, making you nearly drop your weapon as you were yanked to the left.

Your gaze snapped in the direction of the newcomer, relief washing over you when you laid eyes on Astarion, though he did not seem to share this feeling.

"Things are getting far messier than I care for. I'd say it is time we leave, darling."

He kept a firm grip on your arm, pulling you through the smoke that filled your lungs painfully.

You yelped as you were both suddenly thrown forward by a violent explosion landing not two feet directly behind you, sending both of you flying forward.

The vampire managed to turn himself to land on his shoulder instead of his face, though thanks to the grip on your arm, it made it far more difficult for you to land with similar grace, instead falling direction on top of him causing him to grunt in pain.

"Has anyone ever told you that you weigh far to much to be throwing yourself on people, darling?" He questioned rhetorically, winded from the impact.

"Well next time let's try it with you catching me without my weapons and armor, hm?" You retorted, making him smile.

"Well, so long as you're offering," He replied with a sly smile.

You couldn't help letting out a breathy laugh despite the adrenaline coursing through you, smacking his arm before moving to get off of him.

You yelped when a bolt of lightning suddenly struck right beside the two of you.

You moved instinctively to shield the vampire with your body, looking down at him questioningly as the dirt settled, as though scared something had passed through you to hurt him instead.

He was already looking up at you, seeming taken aback by this show of care, still not used to such acts of love and loyalty.

Neither of you were able to dwell in the moment, though, certain that the next mage would likely not miss.

You yanked him to his feet, grabbing his hand and starting at a blind sprint, squinting through the thick black smoke.

You did not bother looking back for the others as you reached the edge of the smoke cloud, listening to the sounds of battle still going strong in the distance.

"In here," You commanded when you spotted a small hole in the rocks up ahead that you could squeeze into.

His hand still in yours, you took off running.

You were close. so close-

A cry of pain coming from your left was the first indication of something being wrong.

Your head turned, the scene playing out in slow motion before your very eyes as you watched with horror as an arrow slid through Astarion's back, the tip of it shoving violently through the front of his shirt.

Your scream sounded distant to your own ears as you quickly turned to grab him just as he started to fall, his eyes giving away the shock of being impaled.

"Shadowheart!" You screeched, struggling to keep him on his feet.

Now he was heavy.

"No- no nononono-" You felt your stomach in your throat, your heart pounding as you watched blood leaking from the elf's mouth.

"Astarion, don't you dare faint on me! " You cried, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, adrenaline driving you, giving you the strength to practically carry him to the nook that promised you both safety.

You slipped between the narrow walls of stone, panting as you carefully sat him down.

"Star, hey, look at me," You pleaded as his eyes seemed unable to focus.

"I don't. . I don't feel well, love" he murmured distractedly, sounding dazed.

"Hey, hey--look at me! It's not that bad. It's not even that bad. Just breathe," You ordered through tears that started to well in your eyes, your dirty hands coming to cup his equally messy face as you pressed your forehead to his.

"Just focus, okay? You're gonna be okay. I have some healing potions, and Shadowheart is gonna find us" Despite your assurances, you couldn't stop the sob that left you, desperately petting his face before moving off to grab the potion. "Drink, okay? Just drink." You put the rim to his lips, a hand under his chin to help him drink, using your other hand to help tilt his head back.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He murmured distractedly when he finished, his head falling back against the rock behind him.

"Yeah," You whispered. "Of course I do." You went to looking at the arrow, whimpering as you listened to him cough, a small bit of blood and liquid from the potion coming up.

"You were so unsuspecting. . I never told you this, but I always felt bad for trying to kill you. . " You looked up at him, sniffling as you leaned forward to press your face against the side of his.

"No, no don't feel bad. You aren't supposed to feel bad. You're supposed to b-be unremorseful, and cocky and-" You cut off when your throat constricted too tightly for you to speak. "Please," You whispered, letting out a soft, helpless sob. "You're gonna be okay. I don't want you to be embarrassed telling me this when you're better because you are gonna be better." You grabbed another healing potion, though you knew it was futile. The arrow he had been hit with had a poison on it. And unless you could get him a healer, no amount of the potions or magic you could offer him would fix it.

he let out a soft laugh, grimacing in pain, brows furrowing.

"I won' be embarrassed," He replied dizzily. "I want you to know that. . That I care about you, okay?" he took in a deep breath, letting out a slight laugh before whimpering in pain.

The sound shattered your heart.

He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly against your soft skin, wiping away a tear.

You grabbed at his wrist with both hands, bloodying it in the process due to having been trying to mess with the wound to help it stop bleeding so much.

"I love you," You whispered. "You aren't allowed to leave me, do you understand? I won't let you. I'm gonna figure this out. We're gonna get you help." You could still hear the sounds of commotion outside, making your stomach churn.

The others could still be out there. In need of help, or dead. .

You pushed this thought away, knowing it would do nothing good to think about.

There was nothing you could do right now. You had no way to know where they were, and running back into the fight would only put yourself in danger, and possibly cause complications for the others.

You simply needed to have faith that they had made it to the cave Shadowheart had seen. Or, better yet, were heading this way now. .

"Star?" You whispered when his eyes started to lull shut.

"Astarion?" No response.

"Hey! Astarion, stay with me!" You grabbed at his shoulders as his hand slipped off your cheek, panic washing over you as you shook his upper half, careful not to cause more damage to his body as you did so.

You cursed, grabbing the knife you had from your boot and quickly cutting a line over the vein in your wrist before pressing it to his mouth, praying to god that it would give him enough strength to last a bit longer while you waited for help.

"Astarion, please wake up," You whispered desperately. "Please. . I need you."

It was a terrifying fifteen seconds before his eyes came open, having managed to get enough of the liquid down.

"Oh, thank god," You cried, keeping your wrist to his mouth, which he awkwardly adjusted around with a soft grunt

His eyes fell shut as he groaned, absently sucking, feeling far better with the strength it offered him.

"We need to get this arrow out of you," You said, looking down at it. "I'm going to need to break off the tip, and pull the sides out before I can give you the last potion. It should help with the bleeding at least."

He nodded dizzily, unable to respond verbally as he kept his mouth against your wrist.

"I'm sorry, but I am going to need both hands for this," You infromed him regreatfully, pulling away when you felt he had had enough to keep him conscious for the time being.

"Gods- Could you not have woken me up after you pulled the arrow out?" He complained as he felt you cutting into the end of the arrow sticking out of the front of his torso.

"No!" you replied heatedly. "Because I can't handle thinking I am going to lose you, and that means you are going to need to stay conscious, do you understand??" You looked up at him with what looked to be anger, but he recognized it to be pure and utter terror.

He couldn't help smiling. A truly unseemly sight due to the blood smeared over his lips, chin and teeth. Not to mention the greying notes of his skin as the poison started to take over.

Still, he was your unseemly sight. And you would do anything for the elf. Even if that meant whipping a miracle magically out of nowhere to save his sorry ass.

"Gods!" He cried out as he felt a sudden pressure on the wound when you managed to break off the arrowhead, careful not to touch it as you chucked it to the other side of the small nook.

"I know," You whispered. Pained.

"I am not entirely sure you actually do, darling," He retorted breathlessly. "I don't see an arrow sticking out of your rib cage!"

"It isn't in your ribcage, dear" You replied, pressing a rag to the wound, causing him to hiss.

" . . Regardless," He went on dizzily. "My point remains. ."

You looked up at him, frowning as you watched him try to keep his eyes focused.

You knew the blood wouldn't hold him for long. He was more lucid, but you could see the first signs of him already starting to slip away again.

"Just focus," You whispered.

"I am gonna have to lay you on your stomach. This is going ot hurt, I'm so, so sorry, Star." You took in a shaky breath, willing yourself to be strong for him. Doing your best to argue and keep him engaged.

"Wasn't I already?" He asked in confusion, making your heart sink,

"No, " You replied, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. "No, you're sitting up right now. . But I need you to lay down on your stomach. Just let me guide you, alright? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you" he retorted, feeling your hands come up to help him maneuver carefully onto the ground.

He grunted, face smushing into the dirt.

"What sort of question even is that, darling?" He continued on, your heart twisting.

"A silly question," You murmured, moving over to sit on the backs of his legs, knowing he was probably going to try and flail when you did this.

"I need you to stay as still as you can for me, okay, Star?" he simply nodded in response, letting out a soft, dizzy groan.

You grasped the arrow carefully with both hands, surprised when you found it to be slippery with blood, only then realizing you had never staunched the bleeding from your wrist.

You grabbed a cloth quickly to offer a better grip, taking a deep breath before slowly and carefully starting to remove the long length of wood from his flesh, listening with a sickened displeasure to the mewls of pain that left his lips, his body writhing beneath you as he fought to try and make the pain stop.

"I'm sorry," You cried, throat tight. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry- It's gonna be over in just a second, I promise- I'm so sorry-" You took in a shaky breath as your resolve to stay strong was crumbling listening to the tortured sounds leave him in an unfiltered stream.

"Please," He gasped, the plea desperate and weak.

"Please make it stop-" He cried out as the last inch of the arrow slipped suddenly from his back, the resistance it had been offering you having suddenly stopped, making you go faster than you had intended.

"Okay okayokay, it's done, it's gone," You whimpered, bending down and peppering loving kisses to his shoulder as he panted in pain beneath you.

"You're okay," You went on, moving off of him and grabbing another rag quickly to press it to the wound, making him grunt.

"It's okay. . Hey, let me help you sit up, okay? You need the other healing potion." You quickly wiped away the tears blurring your eyes, replacing it with a thin layer of blood instead.

He offered you his hand to take, allowing you to help him sit up before he promptly fell backwards against the rocks, groaning as he did so.

"This is no fun," He deduced, breath heavy and shallow.

You shook your head miserably.

"Not in the fucking slightest," You stated, moving to press into his side as you gave him the last potion.

"This is the last one," You whispered. "But you can feed on me, to keep up your strength, okay?" You flinched as a firebolt struck right in front of the opening to your hide away, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I think I'd just like to sleep actually, if tha's alright with you, darling" He murmured, finding himself completely exhuasted.

"No- Hey, no you have to stay awake- Astarion!" You gave his shoulder a stressful shake, making him open his eyes again.

"Come on. Drink" You held up the potion to his lips, helping him swallow it back.

It managed to heal his wounds enough that he would not die from them. But it did little good against the poison working its way through his veins.

he coughed as he choked on some of the liquid, bringing a hand up to wipe off his lips, bloodying it in the process.

"Good," You breathed, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in relief when you felt his stomach stop bleeding.

"Just feed, okay? The others will find us. I'm sure of it." You shut your eyes as you brought your still bleeding wrist up for him, feeling his fangs sink in to the skin tiredly, though he did manage to still find the strength to bring a hand up to hold the back of yours, keeping your wrist in place as he gently sucked, swallowing the crimson liquid gratefully.

You hid the grimace of pain against his shoulder, willing to suffer far greater if it meant your sweet vampire being okay.

Though after a time, you were beginning to feel quite light headed.

Astarion had gotten quite good the past few months with learning to control his feeding so as not to hurt you, but with the poison affecting his thoughts, and making him barely conscious, he was right back to being absent-minded with it.

You didn't care at the moment. If he needed it, you would provide.

You would offer every last drop of your being if it meant buying him enough time for someone to find him and help.

You felt tears absently leaking down your face as you stayed curled up against him, your free arm wrapped around his back, holding him weakly so his side was pressing against your chest.

"I love you," You whispered, praying to any and all gods that might have been listening, willing to spare him.

You shut your eyes tightly as twin tears dripped down your cheeks.

You hesitated when you felt his grip on your hand loosen, and he let your hand fall from his lips.

You looked up at him, sniffling.

You were relieved to find that he had not stopped due to losing consciousness, but rather of his own volition.

"I . . I love you too, you know," He murmured hesitantly, never having actually been brave enough to say the words back.

You sniffled again, cupping his cheek dizzily as you brought your head up to press against the side of his hair, eyes shutting tightly as you let out a quiet sob, leaving a long, tender smooch to the side of his head after a moment.

"I know," You whispered. "That is why I know you're gonna be strong, and fight through this." you put a hand over the wound, sniffling once more as you tried to control your tears.

He smiled slightly as he looked down at you, his eyes unable to focus properly as he did so, seeing blurry doubles.

"Is it cold in here?" He asked absently, feeling a bit chilly.

You frowned.

Though it was perhaps cooler than it was outside, it certainly was not a temperature that should have bothered the elf under normal circumstances.

You put the back of your hand to his dirty forehead, stomach twisting as your fears were confirmed.

"You're getting a fever, I think," You informed him. "Most likely from the poison. ."

"We can't start a fire, I'm sorry." If the poor ventilation wasn't a problem, the attention that the light of the fire could draw most certainly would be.

"That's well," He assured. "I can just use you as a blanket instead, my sweet." He smiled at you somewhat cheekily, making you bite your lip.

"Happily," You replied, shutting your eyes when he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

You laid him down carefully, watching him shiver unpleasantly due to the cold ground.

"Let me take off you shirt, okay?" You said, moving your hands down to work on getting his dirty, blood soaked armor off.

"As much as I love pleasing you, my love, I don't think I am in the shape for such activities at the moment," He replied breathlessly.

"Gods- It is to share body head, Astarion!" You objected, running a hand worriedly through the front of his hair to brush it off his brow.

"Hmm. . Sure," He replied with a sideways smile, eyes lulling shut.

You ignored him, working quickly to get his upper half exposed. You used rags to quickly cover the wounds with to keep out dirt before doing the same to your own clothing, the thin fabric covering your breasts the only thing between you two as you laid down and pressed your body against his.

You pulled the pile of clothing over the two of you for insolation, feeling him shiver as he wrapped his arms around you, coughing absently as he did so, his throat feeling a little flemmy.

You wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder as you laid halfway on top of him, acting as a human blanket as best you could.

You cursed yourself for having dropped your scrolls during the fight. You had had one or two that would have been rather handy to help keep him comfortable while you waited on the others.

You made him feed every hour or so. The second you started to feel that you wouldn't pass out if he drank, you let him.

His fever developed into something quite unpleasant as the hours passed, his shivering now constant, his coughing coming every minute or so as his body tried to fight off the invasion.

It should have killed him by now. By all rights, the vampire spawn should have been a full corpse in your arms as night fell. And yet, he was still with you. Fighting and struggling to remain conscious.

Though not without a great many complaints and a good stream of whining.

Still, you did not care. You would listen to him complain and whine the rest of your life, and be grateful for it so long as it meant he was still with you.

"The others will find us," You assured for the thirteenth time in the past ten minutes, the fever making him quite absent-minded.

"But how do you know?" He asked in concern for the eleventh time also in the past ten minutes.

"Because I do. I have faith." He huffed at this.

"faith. . Like Shadowheart has faith in her dark mistress? Or Wyll has faith we will actually free him from his contract?" You gave him a look.

"I don't put my faith in gods, or higher powers, Astarion. I put my faith in my friends. my family." you pulled closer to him as he sighed.

"You always were soft, darling," He lamented. "And I may very well die for it."

He grunted when you smacked his arm.

"The only way you are going to die is if I kill you, now shut up and be comforted." You pressed your body against him tighter, cradling his head protectively.

he smiled absently, chuckling as he allowed himself to press closer to you in return, feeling the comfort.

You were maybe optimistic and youthful in your faith in people, but you were certainly forceful and hard headed as well.

He whimpered as a particularly bad chill ran through him, eyes shutting as he tried to focus on your warmth.

You frowned softly to yourself.

He was burning up.

Well, for him, at least. For someone who was alive, it would have felt more like being a little overheated rather than feverish.

"I've got you," You cooed, running your fingers through his hair damp soothingly.

"Just focus on my voice, okay? We are going to get through this. And when we do, I'll take you to a nice tavern, hm? With a warm room and a soft bed. . And we can just lay there as long as we like, and enjoy ourselves, and drink fine wine. . " You listened as he took in a deep breath, relaxing as he allowed himself to latch on the to comforting fantasy.

"That sounds rather nice, darling," He murmured sleepily, another deep inhale coming and going before he coughed softly to clear his throat.

You kissed his temple lingeringly as you continued to smooth his hair back with your hand, listening for any signs of fighting or, hopefully, the sounds of a rescue.

Neither arrived however as you listened.

You swallowed heavily as you brought your hand up for him again, feeling your arm shake with the effort it took to hold it up to him.

You knew that your body was not making enough blood to replenish the stock he was taking, but you didn't care. you had to make it work.

You shut your eyes as you felt his fangs graze over the wounds he had already created the past few hours, though you looked at him questioningly when he grunted, shaking his head as he softly pushed your hand away.

"Star you need to feed," You said with a frown, looking down at him worriedly, unsure if it wasn't enough anymore to keep him going.

"No," He breathed, shaking his head, eyes remaining shut. "No. . I can feel your hand shaking. You sound weak. . I won't take anymore from you. . I will be okay without it for now, love." He turned to face you, coughing softly.

You stared at him silently, unsure what to do with that.

You felt you stomach twisting with love for him.

Even in a state of certain death, he didn't want to hurt you. . And yet, you needed him to, if it meant ensuring he would be okay. .

"I will be alright," You murmured reassuringly, shifting down tiredly to come face to face with him. "I promise. Don't worry about me right now, okay? I've got it." You brushed your nose over his. "I've got you."

He opened his eyes just a crack to look at you.

You were almost as pale as he was, and the weakness pushing you towards sleep was difficult to miss.

He shook his head softly, clearing his throat once more.

"No . . I will be fine," He replied, pressing his forehead against yours softly.

you sighed, knowing it would do little good to argue with him about it. Neither of you had the energy for it anyhow.

"Alright. . In a few minutes then, okay?"

"An hour," He compromised, though you frowned.

"Fine. . An hour." It would be the shortest damn hour that man ever experienced.

Ten minutes passed, and you nudged him again.

"Its time," You murmured. "You need to feed." You offered him your wrist, eyes shut.

"That was an hour?" He questioned in groggy confusion, shivering softly against you.

"Mhm, whole hour," You replied, with a tired nod.

"Hm. . " He did not offer anything more, finding himself unable to muster the strength to feed again.

He was getting less and less each time, and as the poison spread through him, it was becoming less effective as it grew stronger inside of him.

"Star, you need to feed," You murmured after a long silence, struggling to stay awake yourself.

"Star. . ?" You forced your eyes open when you realized his shivering had stilled.

Your heart stopped, your entire body going cold as you looked up at his unmoving form.

You brought a hand up to put two fingers under his nose to check for breathing.

"Oh, god," You whispered with horror.

"Astarion, love, wake up," You pleaded, sitting up dizzily and trying to force more blood down his throat.

It wasn't enough though, and you knew it.

Your heart was racing, making you feel like you were going to pass out.

There was only one thing you could think to do at this point.

You were out of time waiting. If he was to die anyway, then you were more than willing to risk going with him if it meant he had even a slim chance of getting help before it was too late.

You got up on shaky feet, stumbling with your hand guiding you against the rocks as you made your way for the exit of the alcove, mustering all the energy you had left inside of you to channel it all into your chest, your breathing picking up as your started to feeling it go into your shoulders and down your arms, tingling your hands with such power that it felt like it was going to consume your very essence.

The energy shot from you fingertips high into the sky as the words to cast the spell left you lips in a scream that released every ounce of your fear and desperation. The bolt of yellow energy tore through you, stealing every drop of energy you had left to offer.

It was, in a word, glorious.

People would have been able to see it for miles, the sound cracking like thunder, the force of it shaking the ground beneath your very feet.

A beacon that with any luck would offer a way for the rest of your party to find you.

You never even felt your body hit the ground, laying crumpled in a heap just outside the rocks where your beloved remained barely holding on to the last threads of life in him. .

Your eyes opened blearily, looking around you in a daze.

The first thing you recognized was the feeling of something warm curled against you, and the familiar scent that accompanied it.

You looked over, heart skipping a beat when you found your white haired elf snuggling against your side, passed out, but a normal, healthy temperature and complexation.

You felt your breath hitch as tears welled in your eyes with relief.

"There she is," You heard Wyll's voice from the entrance of the doorway.

You looked over, wiping the water from your eyes as you gave him a smile, letting out a breathy gasp.

"That was quite the scare you two gave us," He said as he moved over, sitting down by your bedside.

"We found you with mere seconds to spare," Another voice added, and Gale appeared to lean in the doorway with a smile.

A scoff followed, and you couldn't help smiling more as Shadowheart appeared.

"Hardly," She corrected. "Ignore Gale's exaggerations, Tav." She gave the wizard a look, who merely returned it with a smile, his arms loosely crossed in a relaxed position over his chest.

"Allow for the dramatic every once in a while, will you? "Either way, you showed quite the surge of power back there," He went on, sounding proud. "I shudder to think what you'd be capable of if you ever agreed to study under my teachings." You smiled a little more, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Perhaps after things settle down a little," You replied fondly.

Shadowheart moved to kneel beside the bed next to where Wyll sat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, looking concerned.

"Tired," Was the honest response, "But I'll be fine." Though you cared little about your own state.

You looked over to Astarion. Wyll read the questions of worry immediately, and took your hand reassuringly.

"He will be just fine," He promised. "There is no need to worry about him. He is back to his normal self, more or less. He fought three separate nurses to lay in bed with you. Though perhaps now that you are awake, you might convince him to bathe and allow for his own treatment of care."

You bit your lip, looking over at the warlock and nodding, taking in a deep breath as you lovingly squeezed his hand.

"He does smell a bit, doesn't he," You whispered emotionally, letting out a quiet laugh as Shadowheart joined in.

"I suppose even vampires need a bath now and again to remain fresh," She replied playfully.

You laughed again, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Thank you," You said, looking between the three of them, throat tight.

"I don't know what I would do without all of you." You sniffled as they quickly moved in on you, crowding you for a suffocating hug, getting Astarion in the process as well.

"Can't a vampire get some bloody rest with his beloved anymore?" The grouchy creature objected as the action of their affections woke him from his much needed nap.

They retracted their affections quickly, allowing Astarion to see that your eyes were finally open, your body moving. .

"Come, I suspect these two are going to want a moment to themselves," Gale commented with a smile when Astarion's expression changed when he found you to be conscious.

You gave the three a farewell, looking back to Astarion who was already staring at you as though you had been brought back from the dead.

You did not even get the chance to speak before two cool hands cupped your face, and his lips smashed against yours in an emotional, adoring kiss.

You shut your eyes dizzily, winded from the sudden passion.

Your hands came up to mimic the hold he had you in, running your thumb tenderly against his sharp cheekbone, your stomach twisting with relief and joy.

You gasped when he finally allowed you air once more, your hands remaining on one another's face, staring silently into each others eyes for a time.

"I thought I'd lost you," He whispered, sounding choked. "Don't you dare think about doing that to me again," He added with angry vehemence, kissing you again before you could speak.

"You are one to talk," You retorted when you were finally allowed to do so, grabbing his waist and pushing him from on top of you to instead lay facing one another.

"You- God, Astarion, I thought I had lost you!" You felt your throat tighten, pressing your forehead against his as you shut your eyes tightly, a leg slipping to rest between his.

"That is apparently something I'm completely incapable of handling. So you are just- You are going to have to avoid doing anything like that ever again, do you understand?- No, forget that- You are never leaving our camp again!- No, never mind- I'm making Gale make a bubble for you, and you will just live in that bubble, safe for the rest of your life!-" You cut off to the sound of his laughing, the sound making your heart swell.

"Stop laughing at me, I am dead serious!" You said, doing your best to stay forceful despite his laugh being utterly contagious.

it was positively turning your insides to mush.

"Very well, darling," He said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. "But only if you agree to live in this bubble of yours with me." You smiled, bringing your fingertips to run over the side of his face tenderly.

"Deal," You murmured, soothed by his tender touch and calm voice.

He sighed softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently before pulling away again.

"But honestly, darling, if you ever sleep for two days straight after creating what the others described as 'the most powerful burst of energy they have ever seen in their lives' ever again, you will be answering to my wrath. Are we clear?" You grinned as he pulled you closer.

"We're clear," You murmured fondly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Good," He murmured, putting a hand on the side of your head as he left a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, your eyes shutting with blissful relief.

"Now, what do you say to a bath?" You questioned, putting a hand on his chest. "The others are complaining about your . . intoxicating scent." You grinned as you spoke.

"Hmm. . Five more minutes," He decided, pulling you ever closer and shutting his eyes.

You took in a deep breath, more than content with this decision, happy to lay with him longer than a mere five minutes should he decide he desired longer. . .

A/N Thank you my lovies for reading! If you have interest in being notified when I put out a new fic, shoot me a message and I will tag you as I put them out. :)

[pretentious-blonde]

realisation

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: it’s a feeling he hasn’t touched in years—something selfish and dangerous and impossible to let go of

warnings: therapy, big big feelings from steve, migraines, anxiety

a/n: soft steve always has my heart <3

series masterlist

Steve never liked the quiet, that’s part of the reason he loved his job. The noise in his classroom was gentle, filled with curiosity—excitement. It was an odd definition of peace, but he never questioned it. Kids brought out something within him he thought was lost, he liked that about them.

That’s also why he never enjoyed going back to his own place. It was the kind of quiet that felt too suffocating. When he first signed the lease after leaving his parents' house, he thought the isolation would be a blessing—a sanctuary where it was just him, no drama, no outsiders.

No threats.

But as time went on and memories resurfaced, that same quiet began to feel heavy.

He found himself remembering what it was like when he first moved here, when progress was just beginning—because in a way, it was again.

Slashed, back to fucking zero.

He could no longer move forward. Couldn’t talk about it anymore—not in the way he needed to.

He couldn’t safely open up in his therapist’s office, couldn’t make you understand now, not really.

All he had left was Robin—the same Robin who had nearly fallen apart trying to hold him together at the start of all this—and he couldn’t do that to her again. Wouldn’t.

That is why he has to do this. 

It’s late afternoon, and he’s got one sock on, one sock half-off, pacing across the tiny stretch of kitchen linoleum with the phone pressed to his ear. His free hand scraped through his hair, again, again—like maybe if he does it hard enough, he’ll comb away all the thoughts circling in his head.

He hasn’t slept. The therapist’s words from yesterday rattle in his mind, reverberating through every breath. 

Intervene. 

He’s replayed the warning all night, half expecting someone to burst through the door and threaten him again. It churns in his stomach. All the guilt and fear—he can’t figure out which is louder. 

He just knows he’s been lying in bed, eyes wide at the ceiling, again. 

The excuse he comes up with is a simple one, not really a lie. Because in a way, his head does ache. It’s not the blinding kind of pain that used to knock him off his feet after a particularly bad episode, but the pressure’s there, right behind his eyes, throbbing in time with his pulse. 

He might as well call it a migraine if it keeps you at arm’s length—keeps you safe from whatever might be going on inside his mind. But that’s not really true anymore.

The threat is, once again, in the real world.

He closes his eyes the moment he hears your voice on the other end of the line. He tries to answer in a steady tone.

“Hey,” he begins. “I—hey. Um. I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

It’s quiet as he waits for your answer, like you're feeling out the tone of his voice. 

“Why?”

Didn't take much to sense something was wrong. You were observant. 

Too observant. 

That’s why he had to create this distance. 

“I’ve got a migraine coming on,” he manages, voice unsteady. “Just… sort of crept up on me. Thought it was gonna pass but… doesn’t feel like it.”

He can picture the worried fold between your eyebrows, the way you’d tilt your head if you were standing in front of him. 

“Is it bad? Y’know… like last time?” 

You ask it so gently, and he bites the inside of his cheek. 

Last time.

The last time—when he nearly lost everything you had built together.

The last time he left you scared.

The last time he really fucked up.

“No,” he speaks quickly. “Not that bad. Just a bit of pressure. Thought I should stay home—sleep it off.”

He hears you exhale, a soft sigh that says you’re not convinced. 

“Steve…”

“Sweetheart,” he counters, trying to keep his voice light, “I’m alright. I just… need a quiet night.” He punctuates it with a half-hearted laugh, like it might sell the story better.

“Okay.” There’s a pause on your side. “Well—I’m coming over.”

His chest constricts. 

Of course you are. 

He knew you would. It’s one of the things that scares him most about letting you in: you show up. 

Always. 

“No—no, you don’t have to,” he blurts. “Really. I’ll just be in bed. It’s not exactly good company.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for thrills,” you tease, voice warmer. “Let me take care of you a little.”

He almost loses it right there. The phone cord wraps around his wrist as he paces in a tight circle, sock skidding on the tile. 

He thinks you’re too good for him. So he says it out loud, in a voice that cracks just a bit. Hopefully he can blame it on the “pain.”

“Maybe,” you answer, and he can practically see your small smile, the tilt of your lips. “But I like you. So that’s kind of your problem now.”

He can’t fight it anymore. He'll say it's his lack of energy.

“Okay,” he concedes. “Door’s unlocked.”

He hangs up too fast, like if he stays on the line a second longer, he’ll give up the entire game. The phone slips from his hand onto the receiver with a dull clack.

He just stands there in the fading sunlight, staring at the pattern of the kitchen countertop. He can’t figure out if he’s more relieved that you’re coming, or more terrified that you’ll see the cracks he knows will soon show. 

He moves into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The cushions sink under his weight like they’re trying to swallow him whole. He feels like an idiot as he scrubs his hand over his face. He should’ve just faked the entire day, come up with an ironclad excuse—maybe said he had to run errands or something. 

But then you’d ask questions, you’d want to help him, and he’d buckle anyway because he can’t say no to you. Not when you sound like that. 

Not when your first instinct is to care.

He glances at the stack of second-grade spelling tests on the table and pushes them aside, annoyed at the very sight of them. He was trying to keep busy, to put a pen in his hand and shut off his brain. But the weight in his chest is too big, too heavy to ignore, and nothing about marking a dozen attempts at the word “elephant” is going to clear the images swirling in his mind.

Last night was bad. 

Worse than usual. 

He’d tossed and turned for hours, drifting into shallow snatches of sleep that delivered him into the Upside Down, or a half-memory of it. The vines. The pulsing lights. And you, off in the distance, looking at him like he was a stranger. 

He’d woken with a jolt, drenched in sweat, heart hammering. Spent the morning sipping lukewarm coffee with no music, no TV, no noise at all—just the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in his ears.

He knew this would happen, especially after his last appointment, but it still hurt all the same. He hadn’t had a dream like that in weeks, proof that all of his progress feels like it’s been ripped from under him. 

Everything about this is too much and not enough. He’s tiptoeing on a razor’s edge of fear and yearning, wanting to protect you but also wanting to crash into your arms. He doesn’t deserve how you look at him, the way you always ask if he’s okay. 

And now you’re on your way over, and he can’t stop you. 

Doesn’t truly want to stop you.

Because in the back of his mind, he knows this feeling. He knows it all too well.

Knows what it does to a person.

It always starts slow—just a ripple, a toe in the water—until suddenly the tide’s pulling you under and there’s no surface left to reach for.

He knows what it means to drown—in both senses of the word. But this time, it’s worse. This time, it’s not his choice whether he comes back up.

This time, it’s yours.

And all he can do is hope that if it comes down to it, he’ll be the one sinking. 

Not you.

The front door swings open quietly, you don’t bother waiting for an invitation. By the time Steve looks up, you’re already stepping inside with that urgency in your eyes—like you’ve come prepared to handle any crisis he’s trying to hide. 

He hates that he can read your body language. Hates that he can see how cautious you are, bracing yourself for whatever version of him you’ll find.

And he hates even more that you’d still come anyway.

For a moment, he just stands there in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do with his hands. He was halfway through tidying up, something to move his stiff body. Make you think that your boyfriend can at least seem to hold his life together. 

He’s in his usual knit jumper and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms, hair a little mussed from the nervous nap he never took. The lighting softens him, makes him look more fragile than he feels, it traces the curve of his jaw and the soft downturn of his mouth. 

He’s tired. You can see it instantly—the weighted slump of his shoulders, the slight effort in his exhale. Maybe there’s a pang of guilt in his chest at being so transparent, but he can’t quite fix his expression into something more reassuring. 

Not tonight.

“You look rough,” you say, raising your eyebrows in that gentle, teasing way.

He can tell you’re worried. It’s there in the careful tone of your voice, the way your gaze flicks over him like you’re scanning for damage.

“Yeah…” His lips twitch in what might be an attempt at a smile. “I know.”

Before he can stumble out a courtesy greeting, you close the distance, slipping your arms around him and drawing him into a hug. The warmth of your body presses flush against his chest, and he stiffens for half a heartbeat—like he’s not quite sure he has the right to accept this comfort. Then instinct kicks in, and he melts. The tension drains from his shoulders, and he drops his head to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. The one he never knew he would crave so deeply. 

His arms rise to wrap around your waist, palms splayed against your back as if to steady himself.

“Hi,” you murmur into his hair, voice muffled against his temple.

He breathes you in, a tired sigh slipping out. 

“Hey,” he answers, almost inaudible.

The quiet in the room no longer feels suffocating—it feels like a shared breath, something that belongs to both of you. Your fingers slide into his hair, combing it back gently, and his eyes flutter shut. 

He thinks about how a hug like this might’ve been a luxury in another life—before nightmares and secrets twisted everything into shadows. 

But with your arms around him, he lets himself believe it could be simple. 

Just for a moment. 

He’ll give himself a moment. 

When you finally pull back to look at him, there’s a softness in your expression he’s not sure he deserves. Your attention drifts over his shoulder, landing on the small table behind him. Paper after paper is scattered there—spelling tests, wobbly handwriting, even a few crayon doodles. You tilt your head, curiosity nudging your brow. 

“What’s all that?”

He steps out of your hold, just enough to glance at the mess over his shoulder. Reluctance flickers across his face. 

“Just… some papers I needed to get through,” he says, swallowing. “It’s nothing. Spelling stuff.”

“You can’t possibly do that when your head’s hurting.” 

He’s dealt with worse. 

He shrugs one shoulder in a half-hearted gesture. 

“It’s not so bad,” he tries, though the hesitation in his voice betrays him.

You don’t buy it. He can see the resolve in your stance, the way your chin sets. 

“Trying to concentrate on eight-year-old handwriting is not how to cure a migraine,” you say flatly, giving him a look that shows your playful exacerbation.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” he insists. But even as the words leave his mouth, they sound weak. 

He’s still holding onto that white lie, and guilt gnaws at him from the inside. You’ve already started marching past him toward the table, your gaze determined. 

“Why don’t you sit down and relax?” you say, lifting one stack of papers. “I’ll do it.”

He follows, hand raised in a weak protest. 

“No—hey, that’s my job,” he says, trying for a laugh that doesn’t quite land. “Like, my real actual job.”

The one he needs to keep. 

Your grin appears, brightening the mood without effort. 

“I think I can handle some spelling tests,” you retort, eyeing the pages in your hands. “Pretty sure the complexities of second-grade grammar won’t defeat me.”

He sighs, a smile finally curving his lips for real. It’s small, but it’s genuine. 

“Am I gonna convince you otherwise?” he asks, half-rhetorical.

“Nope,” you say simply, lips shifting smugly as you slide into one of the dining chairs. It’s a look that tells him you won’t budge on this. 

Stubborn as always. 

He stands there for a second, torn between wanting to help and wanting to give in. There’s this warmth building under his ribs, relief and something else—something so dangerously close that he daren’t name. 

“Okay,” he finally murmurs, stepping back. The tension in his spine eases a fraction, and he can almost feel the exhaustion settling in now that he isn’t forcing himself to keep going.

“You gonna stand there or go lie down properly?” you ask, not looking up from the first spelling sheet you’re scanning.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck and drags his feet over to the couch, sinking down into the cushions with an exhale that betrays how tired he truly is. 

“Here’s fine,” he says quietly. 

The idea of vanishing into his bedroom feels unbearable right now. 

Too far. 

Too alone.

It’s selfish—how much he needs to stay near. Near enough to hear your voice, the soft scratch of your pen, proof that you’re there.

He rests his head against the arm of the couch, turning just enough to watch you from across the room. You spare him a glance, understanding flashing in your eyes. 

“Okay,” you accept. .

You stand abruptly and move to the lamp in the corner. A soft click and golden light spills into the room, bathing the scuffed hardwood floors in a gentle sheen. The overhead light blinks off with a flip of the switch, and suddenly everything feels softer, quieter—like you're tucked away in a little sanctuary, a space carved out of the world, just for two.

He shifts, propping one arm under his head, blinking against the change in light. 

“Hey now,” he jokes, words a bit slurred with fatigue, “it’s bad for your eyes.”

“Maybe,” from over by the lamp, you look at him and shrug. “But your head.”

His mouth twitches—he can’t help it. The weight in his chest lifts, just a little. 

“Right,” he mutters in agreement, the fight slipping out of him. 

He’s not sure if he wants to keep up the migraine ruse anymore, but it’s too tangled in everything else. Better to just let you have this small comfort. 

You deserve it.

You’ve been way too good to him—and because of that, he’s dragged you into this mess.

And the worst part? 

He knows he won’t be able to let you go, half-truths are going to have to be enough to compensate for his carelessness. 

You go back to the table, pulling out a chair and settling in with the stack of papers. Your face furrows in concentration as you pick up a pen—his red marking pen, the one he’s been avoiding all day. The faint sound of your writing tip against paper is a soothing background lull.

He watches you, eyelids heavy. He just lets his gaze linger on the shape of your face in the lamplight, the slope of your shoulder as you lean over a misspelled word. He breathes, in and out, feeling a tug in his chest every time you shake your head in mild amusement or scribble a little note in the margin. He closes his eyes, so filled with longing he cannot figure out where to put it all. 

Just let him have tonight.

Let this be all he feels tonight. 

Seconds bleed into minutes, and he’s not sure when his breathing slows, or how his tense muscles start to loosen. Eventually, he feels the calm settle over him, the quiet that used to feel like a noose around his neck. Now it’s more like a blanket—soft, encompassing, safe. He exhales as his eyelids droop.

His mind drifts in a liminal space between wakefulness and the pull of sleep, cocooned by the low lamplight. 

You clear your throat and tap the tip of a red pen against a test paper, amusement lacing your words. 

“One of your kids spelled kitchen like kitchin. I kinda like it,” you say, a small laugh escaping. “It feels… softer.”

He murmurs a response, voice thick from exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” he manages, eyes fluttering open just enough to find your silhouette at the table. “Bet that’s Jackson. He says breakfirst too. I never wanna correct that one.”

His words slur slightly, and he barely registers that he’s smiling. You lift your attention from the paper, your own playing at the corner of your mouth.

“Breakfirst makes sense,” you tease, the pen still in your hand. “It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up.”

He chuckles softly, shifting against the pillow. The motion tugs at his shoulders, reminding him how tight his muscles are. 

“Mhm,” he drawls, eyes sliding shut again. “He told me last week he wakes up thinking about pancakes. Said it just… appears in his brain.”

You snort a laugh, then set the test paper aside, leaning back in your chair. 

“I think I’d like him,” you remark, mock-serious. “He’s got the right idea.”

It’s so easy for him to picture Jackson—a scrawny seven-year-old with an overbite and an endless supply of energy. The image floats into his mind and settles there, a soft spot in the midst of his own troubles. 

He can almost see the bright classroom, the crayons and the whiteboard, the echo of little voices calling him. It feels like a life unshadowed by therapy sessions and the secrets choking him from within.

He lets the moment linger, a comfort in the back of his mind. Then a memory surfaces—one he rarely shares: his mom, the aroma of melted butter, the slowness of an early morning without his dad. It nudges at him, stirs something bittersweet in his chest.

“My mom used to make pancakes when my dad was out of town,” he hears himself say, the words spilling out so softly he almost isn’t sure he’s speaking aloud. He feels you pause. You don’t respond right away, giving him space to unravel the memory if he wants to.

Like you always do.

He swallows, blinking slowly at the ceiling. 

This is a safe one to share.  

“He traveled a lot,” he continues, voice quieter now, each syllable steeped in nostalgia. “Work stuff. Sales, I think—always sounded vague. But when he was gone, it was like… things relaxed a little. She’d let me sleep on the couch, and we’d have pancakes in the morning. Not the box kind, either. She did the whole thing—batter from scratch, butter in the pan, bubbles on top when they were ready to flip. Real old-school.”

Your pen lands gently on the table. He can feel your eyes on him across the distance. He knew you’d appreciate another piece of his past, no matter how small.

What scared him was how much more he wanted to give you.

How easily he’d hand it all over—just from the look on your face.

“That sounds nice,” you say, your voice subdued, maybe to match the mood he’s set. He wonders if you can tell how vulnerable he feels, laying this out for you. 

“She’d put bananas in them sometimes,” he murmurs. “I hated it—but I never told her. Didn’t wanna mess it up. It felt like… I don’t know.” His voice wavers, and he breathes out carefully, as if exhaling might scatter the memory. “A good thing.”

For a moment, all he hears is sound of his own breath. Your voice comes softly across the room. 

“You didn’t want to change it.”

“Yeah.” He nods, eyelids heavy, almost speaking more to himself than to you. “Exactly.”

He slips deeper into the cushions, a sort of melancholy peace settling in his bones. Remembering those mornings—milk and flour and eggs whisked in a bowl, the hiss of the stove, his mom’s rare, relaxed laugh—feels comforting and too big to hold onto. 

It reminds him of being a kid, back before entire worlds twisted into nightmares and scars. Before he had to figure out how to keep people safe by keeping them in the dark.

Outside, the sky is darkening, casting shapeless shadows across the walls. You rustle the papers again, returning to your marking with diligence. That rhythmic scritch, pulls him back from the edges of old memories.

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again, barely conscious, his words filled with drowsiness. A little piece of anxiety wells in him suddenly—intrusive. 

It’s about the kids—about whether they notice the days he can’t quite summon his usual energy. The way he knows he’ll be tomorrow, when the smile won’t come as easily, no matter how hard he tries.

He hates asking you this. It’s the kind of thing he’d usually save for Dr Avery, but that isn’t an option now. It feels cruel—testing the waters just for his own peace of mind, leaning on you to give him the direction he can’t find on his own.

His voice is small when he finally asks. His eyes half-lidded, drifting toward you, too tired to stay open all the way.

“D’you think the kids…"

Fuck, this is hard.

"D'you think... they know when I’m having a bad day?”

You pause for a moment, shaking your head as your eyes meet his, looking at him like he just hung the moon. It undoes him utterly, the way you let out a gentle sigh,

“I think…” you speak slow, perhaps to allow his exhausted mind to keep up, but the words end up hitting him twice as hard. 

“I think they know you’d still show up for them anyway. It’s… just who you are, Steve.”

It's just who he is...

Is that how you see him?

He absorbs the statement slowly, like it needs time to settle in his bones. There’s a kind of weight to it—the raw honesty behind every word you offered, like you handpicked them with care, laid them down gently just for him.

It loosens something deep in his chest. A knot he didn’t even know he was carrying starts to unspool.

He doesn’t feel like he’s a failure.

Maybe he is a mess. Maybe he’s always been a little broken, stitched together with stubbornness and guilt and whatever scraps of hope he can still find—but he’s here. 

He’s trying. 

He’s still showing up.

That has to count for something.

His eyes drift shut at last, sleep too heavy to fight. Maybe he can let himself rest a little. Just for now, with you close by. He breathes out, chin dipping into the pillow, and finally gives himself permission to fall.

As his consciousness fades, he holds onto one stubborn wish: later that evening, when he opens his eyes, you’ll still be there, still close enough to chase the doubt out of his mind—at least for a little while longer.

When Steve’s eyelids flutter open, it takes him a second to remember where he is—or why everything suddenly feels this peaceful. 

The living room is draped in darkness, the overhead lamp turned off in favour of a single warm light coming from the kitchen. For a disoriented moment, he hears nothing. Then a soft clink of metal on ceramic reaches his ears, followed by a faint hiss and the gentle scrape of something in a pan.

He pushes himself upright, blinking the last traces of sleep from his eyes. The couch creaks and the fabric of his jumper feels slightly rumpled from dozing. He rubs the back of his neck, rolls his shoulders, wincing at the dull ache there. 

A quick glance at the window tells him night has fully settled over Hawkins—streetlights glow faintly outside, their beams catching on the air.

The heaviness he’s carried around for days has receded, at least for the moment. His head doesn’t throb. His chest feels looser, the anxiety dulled. 

That sure as hell isn’t just from the nap. 

Slowly, he stands, letting the blanket slide off his hips, and runs a hand down the front of his jumper. His bare feet touch the floor with soft thumps as he pads toward the kitchen, one sleeve pulled over his hand like a restless kid, not even realising he’s doing it.

The closer he gets, the more the smell of butter wraps around him. He’s struck by how surreal it all seems—like stepping into a memory. Except it’s not some dusty recollection from his childhood. 

He stops in the doorway, half-hidden by the frame, and sees you standing at the stove. You’ve rolled your sleeves past your elbows. There’s a mixing bowl on the counter, a spatula in your hand, and the sizzle of batter hitting hot butter is the only real noise besides his own breath. 

Plates are stacked on a small portion of the counter you’ve managed to clear. A current of tenderness runs through the space—through him—that has little to do with the heat of the stove.

“Hey,” he says softly, still a little groggy. His voice is low, reverent, like he’s afraid speaking too loudly will shatter the spell.

You glance over your shoulder, a quick smile flicking across your face as you meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” you answer, tone hushed not to hurt his head. “How’re you feeling?”

He swallows, stepping into the kitchen a bit more, hand trailing against the wall. 

“Much better,” he admits. 

And he realises, in that moment, it’s true. 

The tension in his spine has eased. When he looks at you, all sweet in his space, the last of his fears feel like they’re retreating into the corners of his mind. 

“What’re you doing?” he adds, voice soft, curious.

“Making dinner,” you reply with a casual shrug, turning back to the stove.

You slide the spatula and lift it, revealing a perfect golden underside. As you flip, the batter sizzles, sending up a little puff of fragrant steam. You nod toward the mixing bowl. 

“Figured something simple might do the trick,” you say quietly. “And, y’know, you mentioned them.”

He lingers a step longer, breath catching in his chest as he’s catapulted back into the memory he shared with you earlier. The smell of a hot pan threads nostalgia through his core, tangling with the gratitude he feels in this moment, watching you do something so unexpectedly thoughtful. It renders him speechless.

“Pancakes,” he manages finally, the word falling from his lips, soaked in wonder.

You glance back, giving him a small smile. 

“Don’t worry,” you say, catching the weight of that memory in his eyes. “You don’t have any bananas.”

You really were something else. 

He exhales a shaky laugh through his nose. It’s almost real—almost. It slips out unsteady, because there’s something about the simplicity of it all. The way you act like the world could be set right with just this—this one small, human thing.

And what floors him, is that for a second—God, maybe longer—he believes you.

Believes it could be that simple. 

You gesture with the spatula toward the small dining table. 

“Go on,” you suggest, “sit.” 

There’s a gentle command in your tone, like you’re used to looking after him—even if, not so long ago, he would’ve insisted he didn’t need it.

He obeys, walking over on slightly unsteady legs. 

Obeys.

The word sounds strange, but it’s accurate: you speak, and he follows. Not because he’s weak, but because you make him feel safe. You make him feel seen. And in that safety, he allows himself to lean on you more than he’d ever planned.

Drawing a chair out, he settles into it with an exhale, placing his elbows on the tabletop. The wood is cool through the knit material, and he can feel the faint vibration of your movements through the floor. Figures form in gentle arcs along the cabinets, as if the night outside has pressed its nose to the windows but hasn’t dared to intrude.

He’s spent a lot of time alone here, pacing the small perimeter while his mind churned with old memories. 

He wonders if this is what normal looks like. If other people get moments like these all the time—moments where the person they trust wanders into their space, rummages in their cupboards, whips up something simple that tastes like childhood. 

If so, he thinks he’s missed out for too long. 

Please let him keep this.

Just for a little while.

He’s not sure how long he watches you. He’s content to let the seconds stretch, your quiet movements hypnotising him. The whisk tapping the side of the bowl, your gentle footstep shifting weight. 

When you finally switch off the burner and turn to face him, plate in hand, he’s still staring. You serve the pancakes on the two most similar plates you can find—he doesn’t exactly have a matching set. You slide one in front of him, the other in front of you, the only sounds are the dull scrape of forks cutting through soft batter, the occasional drip of syrup pooling on porcelain.

He lifts a bite to his mouth, nodding in faint approval as he chews. His jaw still feels tense, like it’s absorbing some leftover stress. Beneath the table, his leg bounces with restless energy, but outwardly, he tries to keep calm. You watch him, noticing the slight furrow in his brow. Neither of you speak until you finish the first few bites; the tension in the air is subtle, but it lingers.

“You going into work tomorrow?” you ask, casual enough that someone who didn’t know him might think it an idle question. But he senses the concern under your tone. 

You’re not prying, exactly—just checking in.

“Yeah.” He nods, quickly swallowing. “I’ll drop you back home after this, don’t worry.” 

The words come out automatically, as if he’s already set a plan for the day: take you home, show up, teach the kids. Everyone safe and accounted for.

You carefully set your fork down, the faint clink slicing through the atmosphere. Your gaze holds him a second longer than normal. 

“I’m not leaving,” you say softly.

“What?”

“What if…” Your voice takes on a cautious edge.  “What happened last time… happens again?”

Last time?

Oh.

Angel, don’t do this to me. 

He goes rigid. The memory knifes through his mind like a jolt of cold water: the flash of your startled eyes when he’d woken gasping, his fingers clamped around your arm before he even registered he was awake. The shame of your worried face as he stammered an apology, trembling with leftover panic from the dark corners of his sleep. A strangled feeling clutches his chest, and he drops his gaze to the plate. 

“It’s not gonna be like that,” he murmurs, his voice guilty.

“I already packed my pyjamas.”

He sits back in the chair. 

The effect you have on his is downright dangerous. 

A part of him wants to argue—he doesn’t deserve this level of care, not when his baggage bleeds into reality and threatens to drag you with them. 

“No, seriously,” he presses, voice quieter now. “I’m gonna be just fine.” 

There’s a self-loathing edge to the words because he knows it’s not true. You sense it in an instant.

“I’ll take the couch, alright?” you say. That softer note creeps into your voice, the one that tells him you’re not afraid of him—you’re just concerned. 

“Won’t be able to sleep if I’m worried about you.”

Something clenches in his throat, and he drops his head into his hands. His fingers thread through his hair, gripping it lightly as if that might keep his thoughts from spiraling. Another ragged breath escapes him. 

“You’re not taking the couch,” he mutters, muffled behind his palms. The image of you spending the night curled in discomfort while he’s holed up in his bed feels all wrong.

“If you’re feeling rough,” you insist, “you need your own bed. Please just… let me stay.”

He can’t look at you right away, eyes still trained on the dark space between his knees. The weight of everything squeezes his stomach. He drags his eyes up. And there you are, watching him with genuine concern—no pity, no judgment. 

He sees it in your eyes—there is no budging on this.

“Okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

A small smile crosses your features, one he has no right to feel pride at. You pick up your fork again, like this decision was the easiest thing in the world. 

He glances at the swirl of syrup pooling around the edges of the plate, but he can’t bring himself to take another bite. 

All along, he thought he was the selfless one.

He lies in bed, sheets tangled around his hips, trying to convince himself that stillness might bring sleep. 

One arm is flung over his eyes, pressing down as if he can block out the cacophony of thoughts that refuse to be quiet. The dark presses in, broken only by the light of the clock—each minute passes in silence, ratcheting up his restlessness. 

He rolls onto his left side, then back onto his right, shutting his eyes as hard as he can. 

Come on, breathe in, breathe out… 

His therapist’s voice echoes in his memory, urging him to focus on his heartbeat, to ground himself. But his brain crackles with tension, refusing to comply.

The advice feels fake now, anyway.

He flips again, this time onto his stomach. It doesn’t help. His jaw is clenched so hard he can practically feel the ache up into his temples.

When the sheets start to feel suffocating, he snaps upright and shoves them away. His legs swing over the edge of the mattress, feet meeting the cool floor. A hiss of breath leaves him—everything feels too loud despite the silence. 

He drags a hand over his face, scrubbing at his chin like he’s trying to scrape away the anxiety. He stands, letting the duvet pool behind him as he pads barefoot out into the hallway.

The living room is dim. He notices the lamp's still on, a small puddle of light that silhouettes your form on the couch. You’re curled up, fast asleep under an old throw blanket, one arm tucked beneath your cheek. Your breathing is gentle, the rise and fall of your shoulders almost imperceptible. 

You looked so soft.

He tells himself he should go back to bed, not disturb you, let you have your rest. But there’s a stronger voice in him—the one that urges his forwards. 

It’s a jarring realisation that knocks something loose in him.

You’re becoming the next point of call when things get rough. The person he turns to now, instinctively, without thinking. And what unsettles him most is knowing you’d be glad to hear that. You’d take it as a sign of closeness, of trust.

But it feels cruel.

Cruel that you’d take pride in being his safe place when you still don’t know the full extent of what you’re stepping into. Cruel that he’s letting you play nurse to wounds he hasn’t even shown you yet.

He shouldn’t need you like this.

But he is going to be cruel, just for tonight. 

He brushes a strand of hair off your forehead. The small touch makes you stir, and your eyelids flutter open. Confusion flickers across your features until you register it’s him crouched there, face etched with concern.

“Steve?” You mumble, voice foggy with sleep. “Are—are you alright? Did something happen?”

You’re panicking because of him, and it makes it ache even worse.

“Hey—hey, it’s alright,” he murmurs, voice soft as he tries to soothe you. “Nothing happened. I promise.”

You start to push yourself upright, the blanket sliding off one shoulder to get a better look at him. The shape of your arm emerges, goosebumps prickling from the cool air. He swallows, feeling another wave of guilt that you even have to sleep out here. 

On the couch for God's sake. 

“I just… can’t sleep,” he admits, voice dropping. The confession tastes vulnerable on his tongue. 

It sounds pathetic—like a kid who never figured out how to function.

“Bad night?” you ask, still blinking sleep from your eyes. Your hand finds his forearm, thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Even that tiny touch feels like a lifeline.

“Yeah. I don’t know.” He nods as he lets out a shuddery breath. “Everything feels… loud.”

His request is simple, but the desperation laced in his voice betrays just how badly he needs the answer.

“Will you… come to bed with me?”

You still. The air between you tightens. He can see the caution in your eyes, the trace of a memory of the time before. He hates that he’s the cause of that worry. 

“Steve, I—I don’t know.” Your gaze drops to your lap as you recall his grip on your wrist, the way he shot out the door without so much as an explanation. “Last time, you were so out of it, and I didn’t know what to do, and you—”

“I know,” he interrupts, leaning in just enough that you feel the warmth radiating from him. “I know. And I’m sorry—I really am.” His voice wavers, and he takes a shaky breath. He wants to reach for your hand but forces himself to keep still, give you space. 

“But—but it’s not gonna be like that tonight. I’m okay, I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You search his face, like you’re checking for any sign of doubt. Your gaze wanders over the weariness lining his eyes, the way his shoulders slump, the vulnerability in his expression. 

“...Are you sure?” You ask softly, a thousand questions and concerns pooling behind the simple words.

He’s sure. 

He wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger. 

“Yeah. I just—please.” 

He doesn’t care that it sounds like begging. Right now, he is begging. 

Your eyes dart between his, and you sigh softly. In the low light, he looks worn down—like that earlier nap had only skimmed the surface of whatever’s been dragging him under. 

It doesn’t take long to decide. The fact that he’s asking at all tells you everything. He wouldn’t, not unless he was sure. This isn’t casual. It’s something close to desperate.

“Okay.” Another short pause, your hand still on his forearm. “Okay. Just give me a sec.”

You shift the blanket aside and stand, the couch springs creaking as you move. He rises too, unfolding himself from his crouch. There’s an awkward silence where neither of you speaks. He feels like he should apologise—but where to start, he isn’t quite sure yet.

He extends his hand, fingers itching to hold your own. He leads you down the hall, every step slow. At the threshold of his bedroom, the air cools, and he can feel your hesitation in the slight drag of your feet. It sparks another pang of guilt. 

He nearly drops your hand, ready to say it’s okay, you don’t have to do this. But you tighten your grip, an assurance that you’re choosing to stay.

The bed is still rumpled, blankets half on the floor from where he stormed out. Silently, you both gather them up. You toss one over the mattress, smoothing it down just enough to make room to lie on.

When you finally slip under the covers, he follows, gingerly settling next to you on the mattress. He keeps to his side at first, giving you space.

The moment stretches—two heartbeats, three. 

The tension is palpable, and he regrets getting up in the first place. You turn onto your side, facing him, catching his eyes with your own. They’re wide, and beautiful. 

So fucking beautiful. 

There you go, looking at him like that again 

You look weary, and he bets he does too, so he can blame the sleep when he reaches out. He slips an arm around your waist and waits—just waits. Allowing you to choose how close to him you will get. 

He doesn’t let out his breath until you nestle closer, allowing him to tuck his chin over your head, the long exhale that seems to pour into the darkness. 

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers.

He hopes he will be. 

He senses your small smile, lips curving upward against his jumper, a subtle shift in your posture as you settle down. 

“Get some sleep,” you murmur, reaching curl your arm around his waist, mirroring his position. 

“I will, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. 

He will, but not yet. 

First, he waits for your breathing to slow, for your shoulders to uncoil, for sleep to settle over you. Guilt weighs on him for putting you through this—sleeping beside someone you believe isn’t okay. 

He isn’t, but there’s a sick sixth sense inside him that warns when a night will be rough. Tonight won’t be, though. 

He’s sure of it.

What he’s just done feels like a trial, a test of whether you’d follow him, stay with him. It troubles him the more he thinks about it, but there’s no other way to explain it. 

He needed to know if you would—because if you did, it’d mean you feel for him what he feels for you.

He might be hopeless when it came to saying how he felt—couldn’t talk to his parents, had to be cornered by Robin, nearly let it all slip through his fingers just trying to name what was going on. 

But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

Steve felt things—deeply, messily, all at once. Always had. He’d felt this particular emotion before, or thought he had, in flashes: in borrowed bedrooms, first relationships, and soft pink roses. Young and dumb, sticky and sweet, like he saw in the movies. 

But it was never like this. This was bigger than him, something that carried a risk—like most things now did. 

Everything in his life felt more intense now. 

This was no exception. 

He felt it in every part of him. For the first time in years, he was glad he could still feel that much. That he hadn’t gone numb to it.

He held you, a secret he needed to keep. Even if he couldn’t give you every word of it, Steve Harrington knew what this was.

He knew what love felt like.

He’d fallen into it.

He knew better, but he chose to anyway—damned the fallout, and damn the cost.

It meant he could keep you to himself, just a little while longer.

taglist: @daisy-is-a-writer @chiliwhore @kvroomi @just-lilita @negomi123 @catluver02 @tinythebunni @everythinghasafacee @irrelevantbutembarrassing @almostfullstarfish @aurora-austen @yourgirlfriennd @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles 

[boosandbirds]

Hey ches, I saw your post asking for prompts how about this:

Ship: dead on main (Jason Todd X Danny Fenton)

Prompt: Wing Au, Jason has only one wing left/one wing and a half left from the explosion even lazurus pit could not heal them, Danny's wings are unusable since the accident, only hanging down he can't even fold them to his back, as phantom he has only the skeleton of wings and can fly with them, how about a meet cute or one of them has a bad day (phantom pains) and the other helps them (with cuddles and such)

Thanks in advance

By the time Jason gets back from patrolling the Alley, it's long passed two in the morning.

Not the latest he's gotten back, not by a long shot, but he still feels the ache in his muscles and bruises refusing to be ignored. Jason swears his wings weight at least a ton, missing chunk and all, and he wants nothing more than to peel off his gear and sleep for a week.

But there's a wing thrown over the couch, and he catches a glimpse of another one on the floor. Jason's tired, but even during his worst days, he hadn’t been heartless.

If there's anyone that understands this kind of tiredness, it's Danny.

His boyfriend might not be a hero anymore -- hates the idea of it, really, and goes deathly pale at the mention of it -- but it's not something you forget. Jason doesn't think it's something anyone can forget. Being a vigilante does things to you, and there's no going back from it.

Jason will never back the missing parts of his right wing. In his human form, Danny can barely move his wings at all.

"Oh, Spaceboy," Jason sighs, stepping around the corner. "I've told you not to wait up for me."

Danny groans, propping himself up on his elbows. It can't be a comfortable position, wings sprawled out across the furniture, wood digging into feathers and not providing nearly enough support for how much they weigh. Danny’s wings aren't small, after all, not when you take his short stature into consideration, and this isn't the first time Jason has found him like this. Still, if it bothers him, Danny doesn't let it show on his face.

He smiles like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Yeah, well," Danny says, wearing a mock pout, "You’re not the boss of me."

Privately, Jason doesn't think anyone's the boss of him unless Danny let's them be. Danny might be looked down upon -- it's shitty for people to judge his broken wings, but Jason has long since learned not to make a big deal out of it -- but he's as free as can be. Doesn't give a shit what people tell him not to do, because if he thinks it's right, Danny will happily do it anyway. The only exceptions may be Jazz Fenton and Sam Manson.

Jason pushes the thoughts away with a quiet laugh. He closes the remaining distance between them, then carefully wraps his hands around Danny’s upper arms. "Up we go," Jason says, lightheartedly, and Danny laughs as he's helped to his feet. "The bed is big enough for both of us to stretch out."

And he's not exaggerating.

Perks of being one of Bruce's kids, Jason can afford the biggest bed on the market. He'd originally gotten to sprawl out after patrol, but after starting to date Danny, it truly became a luxurious thing. Two birds fit on it perfectly, and there were few things Jason more than wrapping his ghost up in his wings.

"I can't see the door from the bed, idiot," Danny mumbles, "I wanted to ask how your patrol went, but hypothetically, I fell asleep and forgot to change forms. So hypothetically, I might have gotten stuck on the couch."

"Hypothetically, of course," Jason says, smirking, "because the great Danny Fenton would never get stuck on a couch."

Danny glares at him playfully. "Fuck off," he says, "maybe I was waiting for my knight in dirty leather."

Jason grins, and just for that comment, he makes a show out of sweeping Danny into his arms. "Well, your Highness, your knight has arrived."

"Dick!"

"Wrong bat," Jason says, and he leans in to press a kiss to Danny’s lips. Then, careful that his wings aren't dragging, he starts walking towards the bedroom. "Now, I don't know about you, but unless Gotham’s about to explode, the rest of them can fuck off. I'm taking my ghost to bed, and not moving an inch until morning."

Danny pokes his face. "Sure," he says, "whatever you say, Zombie Boy. Whatever you say."

[buckyalpine]

I'm in a angsty, fluffy, sensitive babie mood. You know that silly prank people do where they text/talk to their partner all serious about having to confess something serious just to tell them "I'm Batman". So imagine Bucky does that but he has no idea how badly it would trigger you.

"Y/n" Bucky entered your shared bedroom quietly, letting his heavy duffle bag hit the ground with a thud. "There's-there's something I have to tell you"

"What is it, is everything okay baby" You set down the book you were reading, growing worried seeing his fallen expression. He sighs, slowly approaching the bed and taking a seat by the edge next to you. You move to see if he's injured anywhere but he stops you, resting his hand on your leg.

"I'm fine. It's just-something I've been meaning to tell you. Probably something I should've told you a long time ago" He bites his lip contemplating his next words, itching to burst into a fit of giggles. "I have to tell you the truth"

"Tell me the truth?" Your stomach drops and your throat starts to tighten. "You can tell me Bucky, anything" You struggle to keep your voice steady, holding your breath, waiting for his next words.

"It's just-I can't believe I kept this from you and it isn't fair to you at all, you know?" He runs his hand through is locks while keeping his blue eyes cast down. "It's been going on for about a year now..."

If you weren't already sitting down, you would've passed out. All the pervious anxieties you'd had in past relationships, all the deep insecurities and worries you had came pouring out at once, your deepest fears coming true.

Of course Bucky was seeing someone else.

Of course you weren't good enough.

Of course he cheated on you just like the last guy, why did you think you deserved someone to love you, obviously-

"I'm bat man!-baby? baby, what's wrong" Bucky went from giggling like a madman to feeling pure dread within a matter of seconds seeing your tear streaked face. His nervous act was no longer just an act, anxiety filling his chest seeing you so distraught. "Oh God, baby don't cry, I was joking, c'mere"

"W-what?" You sniffled, trying to swallow down a hiccup while Bucky scrambled to scoop you in his arms, wiping away your tears.

"I was just kidding around with you doll, I said I was bat man, I didn't mean to upset you babygirl" Bucky cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while you slowly got your breathing under control again. Bucky truly thought you would've whacked him with a pillow or playfully shoved him off the bed, never in a million years did he think you'd take actually any of this seriously. You whimpered in his arms as he squeezed you tighter, continuing to give you soft, sweet kisses.

"Baby-do you-do you really think I'd ever cheat on you?" He spoke softly, keeping you cradled in a ball, close to his body. A part of him felt hurt that you felt that way, that he'd ever given you room to think he would do such a thing. He thought he was going to cry, the very thought of being with anyone else made his heart hurt.

"I thought you were seeing someone else" you whispered, old pains of coming in second resurfacing. "Maybe you found someone better-

"Never" Bucky moved to cup your cheeks firmly in his hands, making you look at him, "I would never. I love you so much angel, so much it fucking hurts. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't even dream of someone else. I couldn't, I-fuck, you're everything to me" His own voice nearly cracked with emotion, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I love you like I've loved no one else, you have my heart sweet girl"

"Promise?" You toyed with his dogtags while he pressed his lips firms to yours, sealing every bit of his feelings with that kiss.

"I promise baby" He pulled you down to lay with your head resting on his chest, his hand gently playing with your hair, "So back to what I was confessing - Ow"

...

"I deserved that"

[lovelettersfromluna]

⋆ ★ Once again, for the first time ⋆ ★

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Being in love with your best friend has got to be one of the most emotionally exhausting things someone can experience, so it’s time you put your foot down and moved on….at least, try to move on

an: God it almost feels wrong to just come back after so long without a continuing chapter to what I’ve been working on, pls don’t be mad at me 😵‍💫. I’ve been really busy you guys! I just got home yesterday and while I know you’ve all be asking for other things, I just haven’t been feeling super inspired to continue them RIGHT NOW, and I feel that’s why I’ve been MIA for so long. While I say I’m not inspired to continue them right now, that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning them! I will be coming back to them don’t worry! For now, I hope this little angsty fic is enough for you all, and I hope you’ve stuck around to read it, and if you haven’t, that’s okay too. Anyways, I’ve missed you all so much, and I hope you like this one 🖤🖤🖤.

Warnings: ANGST!!! Eventual smut in future chapters, Ellie is an oblivious idiot, Quiet!reader, momentary alternative love interest (it’s just for the story I promise 😉), jealous!Ellie, possessive!Ellie, Please let me know if I missed anything!

Part 2 can be read, here!

The warm glow of your tv screen became blurry with each passing second. You could barely make out the erratic movements of the video game characters beating each other to a pulp as Ellie’s fingers tapped away at the buttons on the game controller, soft huffs leaving here lips ever so often. “Fucking dick..” She mumbled under her breath, eyebrows knit in deep concentration, eyes almost growing watery from her lack of blinking.

You on the other hand, you were nearly fast asleep. Cuddled into your sofa, resting your head against a pillow that was propped up against the arm of the couch, a plush blanket draped over your body as you watched your best friend control a scantily clad character to violently fight the opposite person.

This was tradition for you and Ellie. She’d come over, you would force her to study with you because she was often too stubborn to do it without you, you’d order shitty take out, watch her play video games, and then you’d fall asleep. It always ended with her dragging you to your bedroom, staying with you for a bit before she left, and then in the morning, she’d be waiting for you outside your apartment to go to school together.

And that was life, life with your best friend that is. It had been that way since you were practically babies, your routines changing and adapting to whatever phase of life you were both in within that moment, but it was always more or less the same. And you couldn’t complain, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Not even if you were given the chance to have her as something more.

Ellie had always been a charmer, and unfortunately, the extent of her charming demeanor had made its way to you. It was something you noticed early on, as soon as you were able to decipher feelings of love, you were able to link those with Ellie. When people would explain love to you, or you’d see it in others, you thought of Ellie. You realized quickly after that though, that Ellie was your best friend, and feelings would greatly complicate the long history that you two had together.

And so, you swallowed them down.

It wasn’t like it was painful or anything. Sure, seeing Ellie with other girls wasn’t great, but you coped. Life went on, and you promised yourself you’d never let your feelings get in the way of Ellie’s life, your life, or your friendship.

“Man…I’d let Mileena rip my head off any day…” Ellie sighed out, the girl never a stranger to gawking at the make believe video game characters in her favorite games. You let out a sleepy hum, giving her a nod as you cuddled further into the couch, not fully able to comprehend your friends words due to your sleepy state.

The sounds you made caught Ellie’s attention, causing her to sit forward a bit so she could catch a glimpse of your nearly sleeping face. She chuckled softly, shaking her head a bit as she reached forward for the controller, turning off the console followed by the tv before she stood up, taking your hand in hers and pulling you slightly.

“You have the energy of a seventy year old woman…come on, let’s get you to bed grandma” she teased, and it only causes you to whine softly. The couch is so comfortable, and you’re more than happy with sleeping there for the night just so you didn’t have to move and lose the blissful drowsy feeling that came with the sounds of Ellie playing Mortal Kombat lulling you to sleep.

“I’m fine here…” You tried, knowing that she wouldn’t settle for you sleeping there on the couch all night. And she didn’t need to be told twice, she let out a soft hum, one that almost sounded like she’d leave you there, but suddenly you’re being lifted off of the couch, into Ellie’s strong chest, even stronger arms wrapping around your body, which once again caused you to whine.

No matter how tired you were, how close to sleep, you can’t ignore the burning fire in your chest when she holds you like this. Even though being Ellie’s friend was the furthest thing from painful, it was times like this that it got a little too hard. Ellie was always a very affectionate person, especially with people she was close to, and you happened to be at the top on that list.

So, when she’d do things like this, pull you up into her arms and carry you to bed, or slip her arms around your waist and spoon you from behind when you were watching movies together, or when she’d pull you close to her when you were in a crowded room, it was easy to imagine how things would be if it were different, if you were able to have her in the way you wanted.

Only for a moment though.

Ellie hummed softly as she gently rested you on your bed, making sure to pull your socks off because she knew you’d kick them off in your sleep anyways, and pull the blanket, not the duvet, over your body because it was how you preferred to sleep. She knew exactly what to do with you, and it always made your heart tug.

She smiled softly down at you, watching as your heavy eyes grew even heavier once your head hit your soft pillows. She gave your elbow a gentle nudge before she turned off the lights in your room, closed the door, and left your apartment.

And even though you were already falling asleep, you couldn’t ignore the urge you had to ask her to stay. The urge you always had to ask her to stay with you.

You let out a soft yawn, rubbing your eyes a bit before you began writing down in your notebook again. Your headphones played soft music into your ears, the blessing of a noise cancelling headset always making it easy to study in your college library, for a moment, pretending as if you were the only one there.

Until Ellie showed up.

She gently pulled one side of your headset up, her lips close to your ear as she approached you. “Hey stranger” she giggled softly, causing you to whine as you pulled the headset down to rest against your neck. You gave your friend a soft smile as you set your pen down, watching as she promptly took the seat next to you and tossed her bag onto the table.

“Hey yourself…came all the way to the library to see me?” You teased her, propping your elbows onto the table and resting your head against your hands as you watched her slump down into her chair, oversized hoodie hanging on her broad shoulders, light washed denim jeans hanging loose on her hips, short hair lazily tugged up into her signature half up half down ponytail, pretty strands falling down and framing her face perfectly.

God she was a fucking dream.

Ellie groaned softly, her head falling back as she blew air past her lips, staring up at the ceiling of the library. “I have time between classes…so I came to bother my favorite little scholar” She hummed out, giving you a lazy grin as she turned her head back towards you, causing you to roll your eyes at her words.

“You know, you could use this time to study” you try, narrowing your eyes at her playfully, which causes her to roll her eyes right back at you. “Ahhh, please. You’re probably the only one here that actually does that shit” she hummed out, which causes you to shrug, closing your books and stacking them upon one another. “True, but I have the grades to show for it” you nod to herself before you push your things to the side, turning back to your friend and giving her your attention.

“So? What’s happening. You look like you’re just itching to tell me something” you smirked softly, knowing your friend all too well. Whenever became fidgety, or absolutely needed to find you, there was something on her mind.

Ellie smirked softly, staring down at her ring clad fingers before she let out a soft hum, purposefully keeping you waiting with anticipation before she began speaking.

“Do you think Sofia is into girls?”

For a moment, the twinkle in your eye, and the soft smile on your lips as you watch your best friend drops completely. You’re glad she isn’t looking, because you’re sure anyone would be able to see the visible disappointment written on your face as soon as she says it. You only let it fall for a moment though, because you’re immediately collecting yourself, picking yourself up off the ground and giving your friend a soft, reassuring nod.

“Has being straight ever stopped a girl from being into you Ellie?” You tease her, recalling the frequent times girls claimed they were straight, yet somehow always ended up chasing after Ellie after they’ve had one too many drinks.

Ellie groans softly, shaking her head as she sits forward a bit. “No man…I don’t wanna just hook up with her..or..or be her fantasy or something. I wanna…ask her out or something” she mumbled out, cheeks burning red as she toyed with the shiny rings on her fingers. You blink a few times, trying to find the right words to encourage your friend to do it, to pursue whoever it was that she wanted.

No matter how much the words tasted bitter on your tongue.

“Well…ask her, or you can ask around? A close friend of hers would definitely know if she was interested in girls or not” you tried again, watching as your friend frowned in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, green eyes narrowed.

Whoever this girl was, Ellie was doing her head in over her….

It almost bothered you that this was your first time hearing about her.

“You think? I’ve just…I’ve had my eye on her for a while and I think I’m ready to finally make a move, you know?” She sighed out, and you nod slowly, giving her a soft smile paired with a reassuring nod.

“Then go for it, Els. The worst she can say is no, and even then, there are plenty of other fish in the sea” you assure her. Because it’s true, Ellie never stayed single for long. There were always girls interested in her, or her them, and it wasn’t long until she was introducing you to a new, pretty girl that she’d have on her arm for the next however many months.

She smiled softly as she nodded, your words clearly getting through to her, as they always did. She gives a determined nod, moving to stand up from the chair she was sat at. “You’re damn right there is…hey, I’m gonna try to find someone to talk to, but I’ll catch you later, yeah?” She nods, slinging her bag over one of her shoulders, already walking away from the table as her eyes never left yours.

You give her a soft nod, eyes lingering on her form as you let out a low hum. “Always” you confirm, knowing that it was true. You’d always be there when Ellie needed you.

She beamed back at you, giving you a nod. You could practically see the excitement shining off of her body, seeping through her pores. “And I’ll catch you this weekend! Your place!” She shouted, causing your eyes to widen at her volume, the other students instantly shushing her. You give her a quick nod, your hands fanning away as you shoo her out of the library, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

You ignore the little cracks in your heart, because the smile on her face makes up for it. You know it’ll pass, you know this is merely a phase of your life that you’ll look back on and laugh at once you’ve found the person that was right for you, one that filled up the little holes that Ellie left in your heart.

And oh how you couldn’t wait for that day to come.

You don’t see Ellie that following weekend.

In fact, the last time you actually saw her was that day in the library, with the few times you saw her in and out of classes that the two of you shared.

Ellie ended up talking to Sofia that same day, and it turns out she was interested in girls. From the texts that she sent you that night, she was raving about the day that they had set up after hours of talking out in the courtyard. She tells you she’s sorry, that she can’t make it out to your place for your routine weekend together, and you tell her it’s fine, to have fun and tell you all about the date the next morning.

And suddenly, you can’t remember the last time you spent more than five minutes with your best friend.

You text here and there, and she catches you outside of class when you happen to make it there at the same time sometimes, but you don’t really have lunch together anymore like you always do, you don’t sit outside in the courtyard to kill time between classes together, she doesn’t visit you in the library, all of those things just suddenly stop.

And then she tells you, she’s dating Sofia.

She tells you they made it official after the first four dates, and at first you feel it’s a bit fast, but you realize they spend all of the time that you and Ellie used to spend together, with each other instead, and it suddenly makes sense. Ellie had a girlfriend now, and it was the explanation for the sudden lack of her presence, the absence of your best friend on weekends. While you stared at your tv screen alone, she was with Sofia.

And you were happy for her, of course you were happy, why wouldn’t you be? She was your best friend and she had gotten the girl she wanted for so long, just as you expected she would…

But the happiness you felt for her lived alongside the sadness that you felt. The two emotions becoming tenants in the home that was your heart, sitting across one another, glaring at each other as they battled for control of you, controlling how you dealt with the situation, how you coped with the sudden disappearance of your best friend.

So, you didn’t give either one control, you ignored them both after a while, and you simply carried on as if nothing had ever happened.

Ellie really was the only person you occupied any free time with, opting to be with her rather than anyone else, because it felt good. You liked it when it was just you and Ellie, it was easy, and it was easy to not overthink things and simply be, rather than worry about how you were behaving.

So without her, you simply did all the things you did with her, just on your own.

Ellie tried to make time for you, while juggling the escapades that come with the early stages of a relationship, you couldn’t take that away from her, but you saw how hard it was. You didn’t want her to feel bad, or feel like she was neglecting you, or her friendship, even if she sort of was. You convinced her it was fine, that she deserved to enjoy her new relationship, and that it needed more attention than your friendship ever would, not right now at least.

And Sofia was great. She was beautiful, and kind, and sweet, and after meeting her a few times, you considered her to be somewhat of a big sister figure. Seeing her made it clear to understand just why Ellie was so keen on taking her off the market as soon as she could.

But that seemed to make it even harder to deal with.

It was on days like this one where it hit you a bit harder, Ellie’s absence. You didn’t mind being alone, but walking to and from classes without her constant banter and jokes definitely wasn’t the best, and heading out to the cafes for lunch was far too quiet on your own, but, you prevailed.

You were making your way out of your third and last class for the day, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder. The week was finally closing in, and you couldn’t be happier. You yearned for the warmth of your home, your cozy little bed, your favorite mug filled with your favorite hot chocolate, it called to you as you pushed past the large doors of your college building, making your way out to the brisk outdoors of your campus.

The sound of quickening footsteps behind you was almost drowned out as you took your headphones from behind your neck, and began setting them onto your head. A hand suddenly pulled them down, forcing them back around your neck, which caused your eyebrows to furrow as you turned around to see who in their right mind would try to fuck with a girl and her music.

You almost passed out when you were met face to face with your best friend.

Seeing her made you realize just how long it had been since you saw her. You tried convincing herself it had only been a few weeks, but you found it hard to remember the last time you were staring up into those big green eyes, and not imagining them instead.

Your frown was quickly replaced with a soft smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you stared up at Ellie. “Ellie…god…I was ready to start throwing punches” you joked, pulling your headset from around your neck and pushing them down into your beg before you looked back up at her.

Ellie chuckled softly, watching as you went about putting your things away. Her smile was so bright, eyes twinkling, cheeks red, all signs that pointed towards the same thing.

Ellie Williams was properly smitten.

“I’ve been looking for you, dork…you’re always hiding these days” she groaned out, which caused you to hum softly, giving her a slight shrug. “Been busy studying Els…I’m sorry” you tried, giving her a half smile.

Knowing that your studying was not the cause of the divide in your friendship, and neither was it you hiding.

She pouted softly, stepping forward so that you two could walk together. “I miss you…” She hummed out, staring down at the Nikes on her feet, nearly swallowed up by her baggy jeans. Her words make your heart tug as you stare up towards the large trees, swaying with the autumn wind, sun peeking in between the thick foliage of the leaves.

“How are you And Sof? Things going well?” You questioned, opting to ignore the way you heart beat faster when she said she missed you. You were also genuinely curious, you wanted to hear more about Ellie’s relationship, you wanted her to confide in you and trust you as anyone else would trust their best friend with their relationship.

Ellie instantly smiled bashfully at the mention of the girl, a soft hum leaving her lips as she nodded. “Fuck…she’s amazing, man. She’s like a fucking dream, I swear, I’m honestly not sure what I’ve done to deserve her” she sighed out, voice sounding so dreamy and love sick, you can’t help but smile.

“You like her…don’t you? I mean…you’re my best friend, your approval is one that’s pretty fucking important to me” she chuckled out as she looked over at you, head dipping down a bit to try and her a glimpse of your down casted face, her hands shoved into her pocket.

Her words make you hum, and you’re giving her a soft smile as you look up at her. Her expression is written with one that is concerned, concerned that you approve of her relationship, that you think she’s making the right move with Sofia.

And you know in that moment, you have the power to break it all. You have the power to rip things to shreds, just by telling Ellie you think Sofia isn’t the right girl for her, because you know she’ll listen to you. You know she’ll take your feelings into consideration, because she trusts you.

“I think she’s perfect for you, Ellie” you breath out, giving her a reassuring smile.

Because just as much as you know you have the power to be horrible, and rip everything away from them both, Ellie doesn’t deserve that, and neither does Sofia. They don’t deserve to hurt for the sake of your feelings, at the expense of what you feel for Ellie.

And the smile you see your best friend shoot your way makes it all worth it, because it’s like she’s been waiting for those words to leave your lips to go all the way, to give herself to Sofia completely and give into her as she wanted to this entire time.

“Fuck…you don’t know how happy that makes me” she sighs out, looking up towards the sky and letting her eyes flutter shut as she takes a deep inhale, and you know she’s truly happy.

And that makes you happy.

“Hey, are you busy next weekend? There’s a party Sof and I are going to, you should come with us” she says as she looks down towards you. You know it’s a bad idea, because it means you’ll third wheel the entire night, tucked away in a corner to avoid watching them make out all night long until it’s time to go home, where you’ll be just as miserable there as you are in your house.

But you know Ellie won’t take no for an answer.

You let out a soft sigh before you give her a nod, paired with a half smile, and she’s already cheering loudly, causing people around you to stare, and you groan softly as you give her a gentle shove, urging her to stop.

“I’ll text you the details! Sof and I will pick you up” she confirmed, and you give her a soft giggle before you nod. “Get out of here…I’ll see you then” you promise, and she’s smiling brightly as she begins walking away.

And despite the fact that it’s the first time you’ve talked to her in far too long, and it was mainly about her girlfriend, you can’t ignore the way your heart ignites for that small interaction on its own, and the excitement you feel knowing you have plans with her in the near future.

It’ll be fine, you remind yourself. It always has been, and it always will be. And with that, you made your way home.

The following week, is when you met Alex.

You were making your way to your first class of the day, the early morning sun shining down on you, giving you only a bit of warmth from the brisk air that swirled around you and the other students scattered about within the large courtyard that served as a main point sprouting out to all other campus buildings.

Your eyes were trained on your feet, a habit you had that had caused you to run into many people, many times. It was an easy way for you to stay deep in thought, focusing on the way your shoes sounded hitting the pavement with each steps, watching as they crunched against leaves.

“Excuse me?” A soft voice broke you away from your locked gaze on your feet, your eyes blinking a few times as you looked up to figure out who it was that was trying to get your attention.

When you laid eyes on the person looking at you, you nearly passed out.

It was a girl, she was tall, with pretty eyes and a charming smile. Her jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, bag draped over one of her arms, a paper in one of her hands. Her features were strong, yet soft at the same time, mixing together both masculine and feminine and almost making your mind go completely blank as her beautiful eyes stared into yours.

“Um…could you help me? It’s my first day and I’m sort of lost” she chuckled out bashfully, her hand reaching up to run through her hair as she tried handing you the paper in her hand. You simply blinked a few times, watching the girl almost in awe as she stared down at you, before you realized you were in fact gawking at this woman.

You cleared your throat, giving her a quick nod before you giggled. “Yes! Yea…sorry..I…can I?” You question as you gestured towards the paper, which caused her to chuckle softly and nod as she handed it to you.

Your eyes scanned over the paper, furrowing a bit in concentration before you zeroed in on the first class she has in her schedule, and it made you smile.

“Oh, that’s where I’m going! You must be the new transfer student the professor was talking about” you explain, your heart beating a bit faster as you come to the conclusion that not only is this insanely hot girl speaking to you, but she’s also in your first class of the day.

She smiles brightly, pearly white teeth flashing your way as she raises her eyebrows. “No way…would you mind if I walked with you then?” She hums out, eyeing you carefully before you look up at her from the paper, giving her a shy smile as you nod. “I wouldn’t mind at all…come on”

You learn that her name is Alex, and that she was supposed to start the semester with everyone else, but there were issues with her documents so she had to transfer instead. The entire way to class, you take your time together, strolling along the pathways and hallways of your school, getting to know one another. You realize that although it’s your first conversation with her, you feel as comfortable with her as you do with…

As you do with Ellie.

When you realize that, you realize that you’d gone the longest without thinking about Ellie than you had in a long time. Alex takes her off your mind completely, because she’s pretty, and her smile makes you swoon, and being with her feels comfortable.

And you reckon you could get used to it.

When you both finally reach your classroom, there are students scattered about, waiting for the professor to arrive and for the lecture to start. You hum softly as you look over at your usual seat, turning around to look up at Alex. “I sit over there…there’s an empty right next to me if you want” you suggest.

The empty seat used to be taken up by Ellie before she started dating Sofia.

Alex smiles brightly as she nods before you can even finish your words, and that alone prompts you to grab her hand and drag her along through all of the seats to get to the two seats tucked away in the corner, the ones you used to look forward to making your way to almost every day that you had class.

When you two are settled, you fall into a comfortable conversation, your head resting against your hand as you listen to her speak. She tells you about her old school, about her favorite books and movies, her favorite music. You’re so caught up in the conversation with Alex…

That you don’t even notice Ellie walk into the room.

She walks in as she usually does these days, laughing softly at something Sofia said, her arm draped around the girls waist, keeping her close. Had it been any other day, she would’ve made her way down to the usual seats in the front that she has recently taken with Sofia, but the sound of our laugh quickly catches her attention.

At first, she realizes she hasn’t heard the loud sound in quite some time. The only thing she’d received from you in the small moments she shared with you were tiny giggles, or small hums, but never that deep, belly laugh that she loved so much.

Then, when she looks at you, head tilting back as you cover your lips, laughing loudly at something she was oblivious to, her eyes finally fall on the person your body is turned towards. A head of short hair and a leather clad, broad back is turned towards her, and suddenly Ellie is frowning.

Because that seat, is hers.

Ellie gives Sofias waist a soft tap, mumbling for her to wait for her at their seats as she presses a soft kiss to her cheek, green eyes never leaving you and Alex as she continues to make you laugh uncontrollably.

She doesn’t think about much, other than the annoyance she feels that someone is in her seat, regardless of the fact that she’d left that seat empty, leaving you alone for weeks on end. All she knows, is that she doesn’t like that someone is sitting in her seat, she doesn’t like that this is the first time she’s heard you laugh in weeks…..

And she sure as hell doesn’t like that it’s this mystery person that is causing that laugh in the first place.

“I know! I can’t believe you like that show too, I was convinced that-“ your words are cut off by the dark, looking presence that is suddenly hanging over you and Alex. It makes you frown softly, looking up to find a very angry Ellie standing in front of both you and Alex.

“Ellie? Hey! What are you doing here?” You question softly, unable to remember the last time you’d seen Ellie up there at those seats with you. The question is genuine, and for a moment you assume something might be wrong, but Ellie’s expression seems to be even more annoyed than when she first got there.

Instead, Ellie completely disregards your question, the girl annoyed with how innocent and genuine your words are, your big eyes blinking up at her with a twinge of worry as you await her reasoning for being there with you. She looks at Alex, her tongue pressing against her cheek before she nods her head towards the seat she’s sitting in. “That’s my seat” she deadpans, not leaving any room for argument.

Alex raises her eyebrows, staring up at Ellie before she turns to you for a moment, humming casually as she gives a half shrug. “I was told no one sits here anymore” she hummed out, staring up at Ellie in a challenging manner. It causes Ellie to scoff softly, rolling her eyes before she inhales deeply, and you know it’s because she’s trying to control her temper.

“Well I do, so you should find a different seat” she barks back, her tone progressively becoming more and more irritated with Alex. Alex simply chuckles softly, clearly taking Ellie for a joke as she sighs out. “Doesn’t have your name on it…so I’m not going anywhere” she finishes off, clearly done with the conversation with Ellie. Ellie raises her eyebrows, finally looking over at you as if to silently ask if you’re just going to let someone speak to your best friend that way.

And it annoys you to no end.

It annoys you because Ellie didn’t care about the seat for the past however many weeks since she’d been dating Sofia, you were sure it had been a good month at least, and suddenly she cares about it when someone is taking up the spot.

Taking up her spot.

You frown softly, staring up at your friend before you let out a soft sigh. “I think Sofia is waiting for you, Ellie” you try, giving her a slight nod as if to remind her that her girlfriend was in fact waiting for her down at the bottom of the sea of chairs. You hope it’ll clear her head, and whatever this sudden urge to come and check up on you with it. You see a flash of something ripple across her face, something you can’t quite make out for a moment, but once you do, it’s clear as day.

Betrayal.

She inhales deeply, eyes never leaving yours, only when they dart over to Alex. She wants to stay and say more, try to get the idiot next to you to sit somewhere else, anywhere else, but suddenly you’re turning your attention back to Alex, a soft smile on your lips as you fall back into conversation with her as if Ellie wasn’t standing right over the both of you. Ellie feels like she could burn a hole through the floorboards with how much it makes her seethe.

And the worst part is? She couldn’t even understand why it made her feel that way.

Soon, she’s stomping off like a child, down the stairs of the lecture room towards Sofia. She gives you an apologetic look from her spot at the bottom where she sits with Ellie, and it makes you so confused because why is she even looking at you that way? As if she was to blame for her girlfriends behavior? You give her a small smile back, and she turns around towards Ellie, her small hands rubbing the girls back gently as she bent her head down and pressed a soft kiss to her head.

You eye them for a moment, but your eyes don’t linger like they used to. You’re quickly looking back at Alex as she speaks to you, making you forget all about the very strange behavior your best friend just exhibited.

“Sorry about that…she’s…she’s great, I promise. I’m sure you two would like each other” you nod, giving Alex a reassuring smile. Alex hums in response as she looks down at Ellie, her eyes narrowing down at her for a moment before she nods. “I’m sure we would” she smiles out, and you can tell despite the rude interaction they just had, she’s genuine, and she seems to want to know more about Ellie.

But you save that for later, because you’d much rather get to know Alex than talk about Ellie.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey girly, love ur writing!!! could you do a leon x fem reader and they are doing the deed and there are other people there are they are tryna stay quiet 🤭🤭 like i lowk imagine leon being kinda needy but idk! thank u girl!!

thank you so much and ofc, here's a little drabble for this <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, exhibitionism (someone else in the room)

"Leon. Be quiet. He's gonna wake up," you whine, taking extra care to keep your voice lowered.

"I'm trying, baby. Not my fault you're so fucking tight," he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You had picked up your boyfriend and his friend Chris from the airport earlier that day. It was a long drive. Apparently their sectors of the government didn't have the competence to drop them a little bit closer to where you lived. You had insisted on just driving through the night, but Leon and Chris were exhausted. They wanted to stretch out on a bed and pass out for the night. Even if the hotel you'd come across only had one available room left.

You feel another moan about to seep from Leon's lips. In an effort to prevent this, you dig your nails into his forearm which was over your chest. His hand rested on your throat, giving him leverage to continue plowing into you from behind.

The little crescents do nothing to silence him and only serve to turn his low pitched moan into a needy whine.

"Leon, shut up!" you whimper.

Your eyes are locked on Chris as your boyfriend ruts into you. His hips smack against your ass, but he's not going fast enough to make any disturbing noise.

"Hush, honey, he sleeps like a fucking rock, trust me," he whispers.

He aims to reassure you with some wet kisses behind your ear. You knew this was wrong and that you should've protested. If Chris did wake up, you'd be humiliated and guilty. But fuck, he just felt so good.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked cunt just right. Each stroke hits another mark of pleasure. It was a miracle you were able to keep some semblance of composure. To keep yourself quiet, you clutch the blankets in your fists though, so hard it nearly pains you. Leon didn't have the same discipline. This entire time his panting and whimpering drips right into your ear. The noises were among your favorites in the world, always guranteed to make you squirm.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he coos upon hearing no further protests, "Just relax for me, babydoll."

The thought was a persuasive one. You could feel yourself beginning to melt into the crisp hotel sheets just like how you would in your own bed at home. Half of your face presses against the pillow case. His hips never stop moving beneath the blankets. He couldn't get enough of your velvety warmth wrapped around him.

As you feel yourself starting to build to that sweet release, you see Chris start to shift. Your eyes had been locked on him the whole time, preparing for this exact scenario. Panic floods your mind. Had he been awake since the beginning? Had he been watching? Was he pissed?

Your heart pounds even harder against your ribcage as your fingers release the blanket and return to his arm.

"Leon!" you gasp.

He can tell from the infliction in your tone that it's not a gasp of ecstasy. His thrusts come to a screeching halt. His eyes that were half-lidded with a combination of lust and fatigue open a little more. He spots the same movement you did.

Fairly certain it was some usual tossing and turning, he pulls you closer to his chest and nuzzles the side of your head.

"Stay quiet, babe. We're gonna be fine," he whispers even quieter than before.

The two of you do exactly that. You stay still and silent. It was kind of nice, the calm feeling of just being full without any sparks of pleasure. But Leons arm begins to move.

Your eyes dart down and watch his limb slither below your t-shirt and up to your breast, taking one of the warm mounds in his hand. He just rests it there as the both of you continue to pretend to sleep as if he needed to feel more of you. Being buried inside of you just wasn't enough to sate his desire.

As soon as Chris has settled facing the opposite direction and you're both confident he's fast asleep, Leon begins pumping his hips again. And with the return of the movement, comes the return of his noises. He grunts, groans, mewls. Anything he needs to in order to spur on his own release.

You just let him this time without any complaints, figuring he may finish and get you to finish a bit faster with the lack of bickering.

His cock begins to pulse within you. As his thrusts get sloppier and a bit more erratic, you know the end is near. Your hand delves down between your legs, pads of your fingers rubbing at your clit a little to give yourself that extra friction needed to join him.

He cums first. His hips stop, pelvis flush against your backside. At first, you're sure he's gonna wake someone. His noises are only a little louder, but they're much more frequent. You feel him spill every drop within you as he shoots rope after rope. You're not far behind and cum a few seconds later. Your legs twitch as your walls clamp down around his already sensitive length, drawing more needy sound from him.

While the two of you come down, he murmurs into your ear. His words are all breathy from the bliss that had just entered his system.

"Christ, angel. So perfect for me," he says with a small kiss to your head.

You reciprocate the affection, but some anxiety still lingers within you.

"You really think he didn't hear?" you ask, looking up into his eyes for reassurance.

"No way. We're clear," he says, granting your wish before grinning at you, "Besides, if he did, I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

Your eyes widen at his little clip and you lightly pinch his bicep. "Shut up. For real this time," you tease.

"You got it, boss," he says, planting one more kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes but still get comfy in bed as he pulls out and fixes the two of you. After falling back into position, it's not hard to fall asleep. You fit against each other perfectly. His chest is so warm against your back. Everything just feels right, especially since you were sure you'd just pulled off the heist of the century.

You fall asleep on cloud nine but are quickly brought back to reality the next morning when the three of you check out. You're carrying your bags out while Chris holds the door for you. Leon's putting things in the trunk already, eager to get home and have some true alone time with you.

As far as you knew, you were in the clear. That was until Chris gave the room one last glace and then turned his gaze to you.

"The next set of people better hope they clean the sheets really well," he says with a teasing smile.

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweet Relief | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is extremely self-indulgent. I moved to a new house today and I was on my feet for hours. It hurts to bad. I only got a chance to sit down and relax half an hour ago. And thus, this was born.

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you fell down onto the couch, propping your feet up onto the plush cushions. You closed your eyes and laid your head back, basking in the feeling of relief that flooded through your body at finally being able to get off your feet. Working for hours, hoisting dozens of heavy boxes and crates onto a truck with little to no breaks in-between, and then having to get them down and into the pantry, was no easy task. Everything in your body ached from the exertion that had been placed upon them, but nothing ached as much as your feet.

It was surprising. You had fully expected your back to experience most of the pain, but that had not been the case. Your feet—more specifically, the heels of your feet—nearly had you in tears from the suffering they exuded whilst you had walked to your home. Thankfully, you were home and could finally take a breather. You only hoped the throbbing in your feet went away after a few moments of rest.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention. You didn’t even have to look to realize it was Daryl. You knew the sound of his footsteps by heart. You simply remained with your eyes closed, trusting the archer to find you soon enough. And sure enough, he did.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted you, his own exhaustion evident in his voice. Daryl had stayed a bit longer to help with the last few things that needed to be done, and he was about two seconds away from collapsing on top of you. However, with only a mere look, he could see that something was up. “Ya alright?”

You shook your head. There was no need to lie to your partner. He would see right through it, anyway. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” he inquired in concern, walking closer and sitting down on the arm of the couch. “Anyone I need’a kill?”

You snorted and shook your head. “Not unless you can kill my feet,” you replied, opening your eyes and lifting your head slightly to look at him. “But you can go ahead and try.” You closed your eyes again, dropping your head back against the armrest.

An idea popped up into the archer’s mind. With a simple hum of acknowledgement to what you had said, he gently took a hold of your legs, lifted them up so that he could slip under them onto the couch with you, and allowed them to rest on his lap. Taking one of your feet into his work-worn hands, he softly yet firmly began applying pressure to your aching feet, setting a steady rhythm.

Without even really realizing, a soft moan of pure, sweet relief left your lips, eliciting a laugh from Daryl. “Good?” he questioned, his blue eyes sparkling with the satisfaction that he was able to bring you a semblance of relief.

You nodded. “Really good,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

“Ya dun’ never gotta thank me,” he told you, a small smile on his face as his hands worked their magic. “But yer welcome, sweet girl.”

As Daryl’s hands continued working at the aches in your feet, you let out a sigh, although that one was of relief. “I love you so much right now.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Ya dun’ love me as much on other occasions?”

“I worded that wrong. I appreciate you so much right now. I always love you, Dar. I love you so much.”

Daryl smiled softly to himself. A few beats of silence passed until he spoke up. “Me too, Sweetheart. Love ya too.”

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Can you write something about Jamal Musiala. Sad. Maybe the reader is sad and he’s there for her. Plz (anonymous)

Word Count: 742 words

(author's note: hope the jamal fans enjoy xoxo)

Y/N was having the most disastrous day at work ever. All the notes she had typed up the day prior hadn’t saved, she had forgotten to bring food and she was too late to grab lunch from the lunch hall so she had to go hungry and to top it all off her boss made her work overtime to finish a project she wasn’t even supposed to be working on.

By the time she left work and got in her car to drive home, it was well past 7pm. She knew her boyfriend Jamal would be wondering where she was, but she could barely muster up enough energy to drive home, let alone call him.

When she finally pulled into the driveway of her boyfriend’s house, Y/N got out of her car, collected her bags from the backseat, and walked over to the front door. She pulled out her keys, unlocked the door, and walked in, dumping her bags onto the floor.

“Y/N? Is that you, baby?” Jamal called out from the living room.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go get changed, I won’t be long.”

Y/N went upstairs into the bedroom she shared with Jamal. Opening her dresser drawer, she pulled out a fresh pair of pyjamas and slipped out of her work clothes. She put the pyjamas on, already feeling much better than she did 20 minutes ago.

As she headed into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, she heard Jamal’s quiet footsteps walking up the stairs.Y/N heard him enter the bedroom and open a drawer, assuming he was getting changed.

Once she had removed her makeup and washed her face, Y/N grabbed her toothbrush to squeeze some toothpaste onto it. By this time, being awake was becoming harder and harder for Y/N to do. Painful reminders of her day continued to flood her mind, and she was just desperate to go to sleep.

Jamal came into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s waist. He nestled his head into her neck and pressed a gentle kiss to her skin.

“How was work?” Jamal mumbled softly.

The soft tone of Jamal’s voice and the sincerity of his question made Y/N stop dead in her movements. Before she even realised what she was doing, she began sobbing. Jamal removed his arms from her waist and moved so he was standing facing her.

“Don’t cry, baby, it’s okay. Talk to me, what happened?” Jamal urged, desperate to stop his girlfriend’s tears.

But Y/N couldn’t stop. She felt silly for crying because of a bad day at work, but everything had just built up, and the floodgates had opened. Jamal gently took her toothbrush out of her hands and led Y/N out of the bathroom. 

As he sat her down on the bed, Jamal grabbed some tissues from the bedside table and used them to dry his girlfriend’s tears. He then passed her a clean one so she could blow her nose when she needed to. They sat in silence, Y/N’s cries being the only sound in the room as Jamal’s hand rubbed her back comfortingly, hoping to soothe her.

Eventually, Y/N stopped crying and took a deep breath. She used the tissue in her hand to wipe her nose and then turned to look at Jamal, who was staring back at her with worry in his eyes.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, my love? Did you have a bad day?” Jamal asked.

Y/N nodded, “Everything just seemed to go wrong today and I guess when you asked if I was okay, everything just hit me at once. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise for your feelings. It’s okay to have bad days, and I’m sorry it got you so upset.”

Y/N hugged her boyfriend, “Thank you,” she whispered so quietly that Jamal nearly missed it.

“What do you say we brush our teeth and go to bed? It’s getting late.”

“Okay.”

The pair finished getting ready for bed, and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when her body was finally burrowed beneath the plush sheets of her and Jamal’s bed.

“Good night, baby, tomorrow will be better, I know it.”

Y/N smiled at Jamal’s words and cuddled into his side. They lay nestled together until sleep overtook them, all stresses and worries of the day finally forgotten.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Look What You Did 6

Jey Uso x Black OC

Summary: After meeting Joshua, Jalisa embarks on an emotional journey, navigating the vulnerability and joy of an unexpected connection.

Four months passed.

Jalisa’s belly grew rounder, heavier, and her heart alternated between quiet resolve and aching hollowness.

She went to appointments alone.

She cried sometimes, out of nowhere, without warning.

But she endured.

The nausea came and went. The insomnia stayed. Her joints ached. Her feet swelled. And still, she made it through each day.

And strangely, through the silence, she found a friend in the most unexpected person: Trinity, Joshua’s sister-in-law.

They met by chance at a prenatal yoga class, of all places. Trinity recognized her immediately and approached with warmth instead of judgment.

“I know you probably hate everyone connected to him right now,” Trinity had said gently, “but you shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Jalisa had blinked at her through her exhaustion. “You’re Trinity, right?”

“Yeah. The only one in the family who doesn’t think silence solves everything.”

Jalisa had smiled faintly. “You can sit with me. Just don’t expect conversation.”

But over the weeks, conversation bloomed.

They traded baby name ideas. Laughed about cravings. Whispered in yoga class like middle schoolers sneaking notes.

And one quiet afternoon, as they sat under a park pavilion sipping herbal tea, Trinity looked over at her and said, “He’s trying, you know.”

Jalisa’s heart skipped.

“What?”

“Joshua. He’s trying to win you back. He’s been going to therapy. He quit drinking. He gave up his car, said it didn’t feel right fixing it. He’s… different.”

Jalisa stared into her tea, fingers tightening around the cup.

“I don’t know if different’s enough.”

“You don’t have to decide today,” Trinity said softly. “But he hasn’t stopped fighting since the day you walked away.”

Jalisa blinked hard, jaw tight.

She wasn’t ready.

But she was listening.

A week later.

It started with pressure.

A strange, deep ache low in her back that throbbed like a warning bell she couldn’t ignore. Jalisa shifted on the couch, adjusting the pregnancy pillow, thinking maybe it was just the babies settling again.

But then came the sharp twist in her abdomen.

And then another.

She gritted her teeth, one hand instinctively going to her swollen stomach.

“Not now,” she whispered, eyes flicking to the clock. She was only twenty-seven weeks.

Too early.

Too dangerous.

A cold sweat broke out on her skin. Her breathing quickened. The pain didn’t stop, it came in waves, strong and sudden, stealing her breath each time. She reached for her phone and nearly dropped it.

Her sisters or her children didn’t answer.

Neither did her OB’s emergency line.

She stared at the screen through blurry eyes, panic rising like a tide in her throat.

And then she did the one thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t.

She scrolled down.

Tapped his name.

Joshua.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Jalisa?”

Her breath hitched. “I think something’s wrong.”

“Where are you?” he asked immediately, voice shifting from shocked to urgent.

“At home. I—I’m cramping. It hurts. Bad.”

“Stay where you are. I’m on my way. Don’t move. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line went dead, and within minutes, tires screeched outside.

Joshua burst through the front door without knocking. His eyes locked on her immediately. Her weak face, her hand pressed to her stomach, the quiet tremble of her body on the couch.

He crossed the room in seconds.

“Hospital,” he said, scooping her into his arms before she could protest. “Now.”

She clutched his shirt, gritting her teeth through another wave of pain. “I’m scared.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I swear to God, I’ve got you.”

At the hospital, everything moved fast from the nurses, to the machines, and the questions she could barely answer through the pain. Joshua never left her side, even when the doctors ordered tests and scans, even when they wheeled her into the exam room.

She heard words like preterm labor and irritability and monitoring contractions.

She saw the fear on Joshua’s face but he never let it show in his voice.

“You’re okay,” he kept saying. “You’re strong. You’re gonna get through this.”

After what felt like hours, the doctor came in with good news: the contractions had slowed. The twins weren’t coming, not yet. But she needed rest. Monitoring. No more stress.

Stress.

That word lingered.

As the room quieted and the monitors beeped softly in the background, Jalisa looked over at Joshua, who was still sitting beside her, still holding her hand like she might break apart without it.

“You didn’t have to come,” she whispered.

“Yes, I did,” he said, voice hoarse.

She searched his face. “Why?”

“Because I still love you,” he answered. “Because those babies are my world. And so are you, even if you don’t believe it right now.”

She looked away.

“I was scared to call you,” she admitted. “But you were the only person I wanted in that moment.”

“I’m always going to be that person,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Even if you hate me.”

Jalisa didn’t answer.

But she didn’t let go either.

The days after the hospital scare unfolded like tissue paper, delicate, slow, and prone to tearing at the lightest touch. Jalisa’s world had shrunk to the confines of the downstairs guest room, sun-drenched and sterile. The doctor’s orders were strict: bed rest, no stress, no movement unless necessary. The twins still so small in her belly depended on her stillness now.

Each hour passed with the maddening tick of the old wall clock. Time didn’t move so much as it hovered, a constant reminder that she could not. The ceiling became a canvas for her thoughts, which churned in endless, looping patterns, half fear, half memory. The silence used to comfort her. Now it pressed like a weight on her chest.

But she wasn’t alone.

Joshua hadn’t left.

At first, she convinced herself he was only staying out of duty. After all, it had been his hands that caught her when she collapsed, his voice calling the ambulance, his arms cradling her swollen frame in the hospital. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the weight of shared responsibility.

He moved quickly into a routine. She woke each morning to find him already busy sorting laundry, returning emails from his phone on the arm of the couch, and arranging her medications in neat lines on the nightstand. He brought her food on a tray and carried her to the bath when the cramping made walking unbearable. His hands, once tools of discipline and structure, had softened. They rubbed lotion into her belly, cooled her forehead during night sweats, and tucked her in with quiet reverence.

And yet… he didn’t push.

He didn’t probe her with questions or apologies. They talked little. But there was a language between them now, unspoken but understood.

Healing didn’t always come in declarations. Sometimes it lived in the in-between.

Until it didn’t.

It was a Thursday morning when the illusion began to splinter.

Jalisa woke to the sound of old music wafting in from the kitchen, Anita Baker’s voice curling around the doorframe like incense. The air was laced with the smell of cinnamon and ginger. Something nostalgic. Something sacred.

The guest room, normally dim at that hour, was alive with soft light. Jalisa shifted in bed, trying to pull herself up, only for a hand to steady her.

Joshua was already there.

He adjusted her pillows with the same precision he used on her medicine. “French toast,” he said, placing a tray on her lap. “And that weird herbal tea you like. The one with nettle and something else I can’t pronounce.”

Jalisa blinked at the plate. Then up at him. “You cooked?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, not unkindly. “You need to eat.”

And for a moment, the wall between them cracked. The smallest fissure. She picked up the fork, chewing slowly. He sat beside the bed, not too close, but close enough for her to see the stubble lining his jaw, the faint tiredness in his eyes. The silence felt different today, it was thick and waiting.

The tea burned her throat on the first sip.

Maybe it was the warmth. Maybe it was the hormones. Or maybe it was the quiet. But she couldn’t stop the question from rising.

“How long have you known?”

Joshua stiffened slightly.

“Known what?” he asked, too carefully.

Jalisa’s voice dropped, sharp with restrained fury. “That Charles was the one. The man Mia had the affair with.”

Joshua’s mouth parted, but no words came.

“So that’s what all this was about, right? Getting close to me. Staying near my kids. Making yourself look like a saint.” Her hand trembled slightly as she set down the tea. “Revenge?”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped, eyes wet now, not from weakness, but from betrayal. “You knew. And you fucking played me.”

He stood quickly as if the movement would somehow diffuse the tension, but she kept going.

“Was I just some pawn to you? A way to hurt him back? All that concern—those sweet little gestures—was it all part of the show?”

“Jalisa—”

“I let you in, Joshua. Into my house, my bed, my body. And the whole time you were using me to settle some ancient score?”

He moved toward her. “It wasn’t like that—”

She hurled the teacup at the wall. It shattered on impact, spraying amber and porcelain across the wood. She followed it with the tray, the food tumbling to the floor, her breathing fast and shallow.

Her hand pressed to her abdomen.

The cramping returned.

Sharp. Persistent.

Joshua rushed to her side, panic flickering across his face. “Hey—hey, easy, don’t move. I’ll call someone—just breathe, okay?”

But she pushed his hands away. “Don’t touch me!”

He froze.

“Go home, Joshua,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’re done. Me and you? Done.”

His face folded inward like collapsing cloth. But he didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” he said.

“You already did,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of it. “The second you made a fool of me. The second you looked at me and saw her and saw him. You used my pain. My home. My body. You lied.”

“I never lied—”

“You withheld! You let me fall for you, knowing all of this!”

Joshua knelt beside the bed, his hands open. “I stayed because I care about you. Because I love you. That doesn’t change just because we both have a mess of a past.”

She turned her face away.

He didn’t touch her again. He just stood and looked at her like someone watching their last hope fade.

“I just want to help you,” he whispered.

And for the first time, she saw what he meant.

He had stayed. Through the bleeding. The terror. The guilt. He had made tea and folded blankets and called the night nurse at 2 a.m. when she cried out in her sleep. He had been there.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because the seed of betrayal, once planted, didn’t stop growing. It rooted deep, choking out every act of kindness with suspicion.

“I don’t need your help anymore,” she said softly.

He left that evening.

The house felt heavier after he was gone.

Even though she’d banished him. Even though every breath without him felt cleaner. The silence didn’t soothe. It throbbed.

Charles brought the kids back two days later, concerned but respectful. He asked nothing about Joshua, and Jalisa offered no explanations.

She smiled at the kids. Painted her lips with color and laced her hair with ribbons again. She read bedtime stories from the bed and let her oldest daughter braid her hair, even though her scalp itched with tension.

The twins were safe, the doctors confirmed at the next appointment. The cramping had eased. But the emotional storm had not passed. It lived just under the surface, threatening to rise at the smallest tremor.

And yet, Jalisa endured.

Because she always had.

A week passed.

Then two.

And then on a rainy Sunday, the kind that painted the windows gray and made everything smell like earth. Jalisa heard a knock at the door.

Not the sharp, confident kind.

A hesitant, lingering knock.

She didn’t answer it. But she watched from the window, hidden behind the curtain. Joshua stood there. No umbrella. No bag. Just a soaked hoodie and eyes that looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

He stayed for two minutes.

Then left.

He didn’t come back.

The ache didn’t hit her all at once.

It came in waves.

When she made tea and remembered the way he used to over-steep hers. When she heard Anita Baker on the radio. When her younger daughter asked if “the nice man who made cookies” was coming back.

She didn’t cry.

Not until she was alone one night and found one of his sweatshirts in the dryer, missed somehow in the chaos. She pulled it to her chest and sat on the floor for an hour, breathing him in, even as the scent faded.

It would take time.

Time to forgive herself for trusting him.

Time to make peace with the fact that sometimes people come into your life with hidden maps, old wounds still bleeding under the surface. And sometimes, they hurt you not out of malice but out of their brokenness.

Jalisa knew what it meant to carry pain. But she had children and more on the way. She couldn’t be swallowed by bitterness.

She had to rise.

Not for him.

For them.

And one day, when she no longer flinched at his name, she might even be able to see the truth buried beneath all the lies.

That he had loved her.

Flawed and fractured.

But real.

Next: Look What You Did 7

Tag: @theusotwinzcom @baybehkay @purplementalitybluebird

[psychesalcove]

i have emotional motion sickness, somebody roll the windows down.

♡ tyler hernandez x fem. reader

sypnosis. tyler knew that the phantom realm wasn't a friendly place. it didn't have mercy on anyone—including his girlfriend, you. he knew he should never let his gaurd down, but the one time he did, it ended up harming you.

tw. tree incident just with reader instead of tyler lol, i used google translate for spanish so it's prob wrong (i apologize my spanish speakers😓), blood gore things as usual, not proofread :`(, shitty writing lmao

"jesus christ," tyler heart ashyln mutter from a couple feet in front of him. that wasn't the first bad sign. tyler was already close to an anxiety attack—he could feel the quickening of his breath and heart, and the buzzing feeling in his head.

he knew, he knew that he should have been more careful with you. he didn't want to seem to protective; you could handle your own out here. but this time—the one time he wasn't paying to much attention to you, the worst situation happened. he saw just the last of it; taylor screaming your name as you flew out of the car.

he should have been there to save you.

right now all he could do was walk up to where ashlyn was, hoping that whatever she was seeing wasn't the senario he was playing out in his head. as soon as he layed his eyes on you, his past made up situation didn't seem to bad.

it looked like you were still alive, coughing up blood, creating an awful gurgling sound from your throat. tyler held back a sob as he started running over to you. "what are you doing idiot?!" he yelled behind him, where ashlyn was still standing. at his voice, ashlyn jumped into action, following tyler up to the tree where you (and hopefully not just your body) was.

first and hardest step: getting you off of the tree. he tried to be as gentle with you as possible, but going slow seemed to only create more pain for you. "tyler." ashlyn stated, overwhelmingly calm for the situation they where in. he didn't trust his voice, so he simply nodded while still staring at your bloodied face. "we need to lift her up faster," she explained simply, as if she was just giving directions for a presentation project.

he guessed that's why she was the leader—she knew how to stay calm in these types of situations, whereas tyler was near hyperventilation territory. he nodded again, moving his arms to your back as ashlyn did the same for your other side.

"sorrysorrysorry.." tyler muttered as they started lifting your body. hearing your broken whimpers and whines from the pain nearly broke him, but his priority right now was getting you safe; he could deal with his emotions later.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

they laid you onto the ground, your coughing still persistent and not letting up. tyler then allowed his eyes to roam over your body, now seeing the extent of your injuries. "santa mierda..."

he didn't have much time to do anything before ben was gently pulling him away from you; causing tyler to glare at him. "the hell are you doing?" he asked, not moving away from you. ben only looked at him with sympathy.

taylor came up grabbed his hand. "let ben help her," she said gently, though she looked terrified while saying it. he surprisingly listened to her, but he was as close to you as he could be without getting in the way. "she'll be fine," taylor whispered to him—though he wasn't sure if it was for his comfort or hers. he didn't respond, but he held onto taylor's hand tighter. he could only hope that you'll be okay.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

after what seemed like hours, ben finally stepped away from you. tyler immediately rushed up to you—dropping to the ground in record time. the rest of the group decided to stay back, wanting tyler to get collected before they approached the two of you.

it seemed that you had passed out; which wouldn't be to suprising, considering the injuries you has sustained. tyler put his hand under your neck, supporting your head so it wasn't at an awkward angle. "m'so so sorry cariño.." he muttered lightly, head still swimming with anxiety.

he was usually better at managing his attacks, but without you there, it definitely made an impact. "you're safe now. i promise." tyler countined—his head still had the buzzing sensation of dizziness due to his short intake of breath.

"im so sorry i wasn't there. ill try harder next time, i promise." he finished, bringing his free hand to grasp your limp hand. "you'll be okay. you'll be fine—"

"tyler, we need to start going; phantoms will start being attracted to this area." ashyln said, walking up to tyler and putting a hand on his shoulder. "we'll all keep her safe." she added, noticing tyler's hesitation with getting up.

he nodded to her again and silently got up, ever so gently carrying you with you. taylor smiled at him from where she stood by aiden. 'she'll be okay,' she mouthed to him. he didn't have it in him to say anything back, but the words swirled in his head.

"i'll never let something like that happen again to you." he whispered into your ear, praying that in your unconscious state you could still hear him. "i promise."

title: motion sickness — phoebe brigers

ALSO! I got this idea from other fics that are the same premise, so creds to them for the plot of the fic 😛😋