#Sorry if I tagged you twice in this I don’t remember who I tagged last time

[rqnarok]

LINGER | 4,3k

old man!logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Being another mutant who survived Charles’ seizures, you are forced to live alongside Logan. The things between you and Logan goes on and off, fragile and indefinite—yet it always lingers.

TAGS AND WARNINGS: smut, mdni! mentions of blood, death, and grief (not logan), lots of angst but lots of fluff too, old man!logan x mutant!reader but unspecified mutation so it’s up to you! minor injuries, nightmares, miscommunication, kind of slow burning (?), pining, logan calls himself ‘old man’ several times, petnames, reader being called ‘kid’ by logan, unrequited love but actually requited (just angst all over…), logan howlett is bad at feelings, love confessions, virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, p with little plot, fingering (f receiving), insecure!reader and insecure!logan, logan loves reader, unprotected p in v.

NOTES: not proofread! bello! ‘m not new to writing but new to writing fan fictions hehe! old man!logan is kinda my everything and this fic is kindaaaa self indulgent. listened to “linger” by the cranberries while writing this :0 feel free to send reqs and feedback to my inbox. this was mere my writing practice and my attempt to gain motivation in life. oh, sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, eng is not my first language! hope this isn’t my first and last fic.. see u all <3 or not....:p

'Shamed what happened back in the East. 

A saying you heard but don’t know where. Even who said it. Still, you remember all of it—their cries of death, their pain, their suffering. 

A haunting vivid memory in X-Mansion, where all of your friends are lying on the ground, in pain—and you could not do anything. You just watched. In pain, too. There was a thought which you think that it was the end. You were already accepting it with open arms, welcoming your exit.

Then your mutation saved you from your fate. Your survival, at the price of grief. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Jolted by his comment, you dart your eyes away from the road and into your lap. “Do what?” You mutter quietly, not sure if he even hears it. 

But he always does. “Never mind.” Logan sighs in the damp air. You both know it is better not to talk about what exactly happened back then. Talking is not what you two are best at either. “I asked you a question earlier, you hungry?” 

“A little, yeah. Yeah.” Your gaze sways to his driving figure: how his right hand grips the steering wheel way too tightly, how his soft blue shirt is all wrinkled, how his tired eyes look with those heavy eye bags, and the grey hairs all over his untrimmed beard. He looks worn out. But so are you.

The two of you have been doing this for God knows how long. Wandering from one place to the other with Charles in the backseat. Looking for a place to settle but not really looking for it either. It’s simply a suicide travel. 

He makes a turn towards a cheap-looking diner on your left. 

Northern Mexico. 

A place where you both decided to settle indefinitely. Alongside Charles, who lives in the abandoned smelting plant not so far away. Logan takes up a job as a limo driver in El Paso and every time you tell him you don’t want him to be so far away during the daytime, he always says: One of us has to earn the money, kid.

Kid. 

To this day, after time living together, you aren’t sure of the nature of the relationship between you and Logan. Companions? Friends? Strangers?

Well, one thing you are sure of is you are not his adopted child and he does not see you in that way, either. He sees you in the same way he sees Charles, as his responsibility. 

Before all this, you were aware of him: what he looked like, his mutation, his reputation. But you do not know him personally. You passed him once or twice in the hallways after your studies. That was it. 

All of a sudden, he’s all you have. The only other sane mutant you are fully sure, survived Charles’ seizure. Still, you two weren’t friends before and sure aren’t friends now. In this shared house, you and Logan are strangers—forced to live together on the sole base of sentimentality.

Deep down, you know there is something more. Something vulnerable, down there. Something fragile. There are moments like where-

Your thoughts are frozen by the sudden creaking sound of the front door. The sight of Logan all bloody and bruised entered your wandering vision. The book you were reading is now abandoned as you get up from the comfortable sofa. 

“W-what happened?” Rushing into him with quick movements, this is not the first time he returns all beaten up but it is still a blow to you every single time. You can’t stand the thought of losing another person in your life, even if you convince yourself that he is a mere stranger. 

His white shirt has reds in many parts, and he’s bleeding all over the house, “Some fuckin’ kids tried to mess up with the limo. F-fuck.” With the blood smeared all over his hand, he managed to get into the shared bathroom, his breath coming out short. 

“Wait!” You rushed to his figure with an aid kit in your trembling hands. He slouched forward, cursing himself. Gently, you wrap your arms around him before he falls and help him lean his back on the white tiles behind. 

He shakily opened the buttons of his shirt and you could see everything. While you grab all you need and start cleaning his wounds, he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes. The intense gaze that always makes you want to shy away from him—you are not so sure why. 

After a while, you kneel beside him and break eye contact, “Did you kill them?” you question him carefully as you tread his wounds. Not sure how he would answer tonight. 

Logan grunts when you touch one of his nasty wounds, still looking at you,  “No. But you should see them.” 

You feel uncomfortable at his reply, retreating your hands and facing the mirror, looking down at the sink, “I don’t want to see them, Logan.” At some point, as you search around for more supplies to treat his injuries that still haven’t healed by his mutation, you break down crying. Out of your realisation, you have been holding back your worries and sobs since you saw him. 

Logan, who notices this, pulls you abruptly into him and seats you on one of his thighs. “Hey, hey, why y’crying huh? Hm?” 

You hate this. You hate how you suddenly cry at the sight of him, at the reminder that this is all finite. His big calloused hand starts rubbing up and down your back, gently shushing you. You hate how he knows you all too well by now. 

“I told you to stop doing the job. I-I told you that this… this would happen. I’m always scared. I thought— ” You let out one big sob or whimper, you’re not so sure. Not when he’s cradling you in his arms like this. “You can’t heal like you used to, you can’t barely–”

“Hey, shh, pretty girl,” Pretty girl. You blush at that. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters.” He shushed you oh, so tenderly. Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. Logan forces himself to smile, “Aren’t I? Come on, feel me up.” Logan sits you up straight on his lap. 

He always does this. Giving out, you delicately place both of your hands on the sides of his face, feeling him up. He watches you brush around his greying beard while holding your waist in place, drawing circles on your skin. “There ‘ya go. I’m here.”

When you feel calm down and tired, you rest your heavy head on his shoulders, “Maybe I should take a turn going to town–” 

He cuts you off while lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes that you were trying so hard to dodge. Without him saying any words, you know he is saying no. Your assumption is confirmed when he shakes his head slightly, looking down at you sternly. 

“It’s just me and you, Logan.” You say meekly and defeatedly. 

“Exactly. That's why it’s gotta be me, baby.” 

Moments later, you continue mending his cuts. And moments after that, you’re both lying together on the bed. Holding each other in slumber. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back. 

Through these delicate moments, you know him. That he is not simply a stranger to you. That this means something more. 

But he does not talk about those moments. Which makes you feel like your perspective is an illusion that you made by yourself, untrue. A false memory that you created in your head because you do feel something for him. 

In the morning, you wake up alone. Logan is nowhere to be seen around the room. Only traces of his scent are left on the white sheets wrapping around your figure. 

When you open the bedroom door, there he is. Sitting on the kitchen chair, his slouched back facing you while he sips on his black coffee which he secretly hates. He likes the coffees that you frequently make for him more. You don’t know that. He never told you. 

“Logan?” you call out to him. But he didn’t budge away from reading the newspaper. As if you weren’t there at all. As if moments like last night never happened. As if it’s true that you are merely a responsibility to him. A burden, even. You hang your head low at his ignorance and retreat to your room.

Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. 

Other moments happened too. One afternoon, his phone suddenly rings while he is out visiting Charles. With all the self-control you have, you try to ignore it, ignore everything that connects to him because it upsets you. But your curiosity gets ahead of your mind and you pick his phone up. 

“Hello?” you place the thing on the side of your left ear. No sound, nothing, nada. Before you know it, you feel a presence behind you and Logan is looking down at you with that look again. 

Snatching his phone away from you, not so gently, he mutters, “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff, huh?” The way he remarks and the way he looks at you makes you feel small and embarrassed. These are the moments where he is not going to cradle you in his arms–you know that. 

Your eyes darted to the floor. The lines on the wood oak floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “I’m- Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. So I thought–” 

“You thought? What? You have the right to?” Logan cuts you off before you finish your poor excuse of explanation. “You have your own pile of shit and I have mine. Stay out of my shit. You understand?” 

Sometimes there are sparks of rage inside of you that make you gain bits of confidence, “Well, we technically live in the same place, so–” 

Though, Logan quickly dims off that spirit by not letting you finish, “Understand?”

You limit yourself to a nod in agreement because you don’t trust your voice. Confusion often fills up your body to the brim. These are the moments you hate. How he treats you differently at one time and another. You hate how he makes you so weak. You hate how he has you wrapped around his fingers. You hate that you don’t have the same effect on him. 

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Charles reasons you one time when you visit him for weekly check-ups. “That man has issues! Even after all these years, I still could not fully understand him and his... complexities.” You force your lips to quirk up a little and pretend as if you justify that, too. But you're in so deep.

Weeks after weeks, it went on like that. You, confused. Logan, indifferent all the time. You miss his touches. Was it just a game to him?

Paralyzed, the color red clouded your vision. You see bodies lying everywhere, dead bodies. The room smells like dread. With what is left, your power manages to slow down the pain that rushes in you. Protect you from the incursion. 

Here, there is no way to hide. Their cries echo through the halls. Their screams still haunt you. 

If you could have saved yourself, you could have saved them too. But you watched them die.

You watched them die. 

You watched them die. 

Inside the dark of your room, you did not realize that you had been thrashing and screaming in your sleep. The nightmare came to you again. Grief shows through in the form of tears, flowing into your cheeks as you open your eyes in fear, “I let them die, I let them die, I let them die–” 

“Sweetheart?” a voice comes from outside your room. Near but so far away.

You kept repeating those words until a figure finally came up in front of you, Logan. He calls out your name, “Hey, no, no–” Now he is touching you all over, trying to stop you from moving rapidly and hurting yourself in the process. Sitting you in front of him and making you face him. Closing your eyes for a brief second, your chest heaving up and down, you remember again and you panic, “I-I watched them die–” your voice wavers. 

“No, shh, keep those eyes open. You’re okay. I’m here.” His hands hold your face and his thumb brush off some of the hair in your wet cheeks. 

“I could’ve saved them. They were dying, they were in pain–” You cry out as the scene on that day played out again. Daunting and haunting you without your consent. Always lingering around on the back of your neck. Only one person knows what it feels like.

Logan’s eyes soften while he remembers that bitter memory too, “So were you,” His voice coaks out, soothing you, “So were you. ‘s not your responsibility.”

At this, you put your arms around his neck and grip him tightly, finally comprehending what is happening. “Calm down, baby. Logan’s here. ‘M not leaving.” He hushed you back to your senses. 

After minutes of him comforting you in silence, his eyes dart to your bleeding lips which you bite to stifle your sobs. With much surprise, Logan parts them and caresses them. Looking at them then back at your eyes, then at your lips again. Your foreheads are now touching and you find yourself nose-to-nose to him.

In your chest, your heart beats so loudly that you fear he may actually hear it. Then with that look that he gives you again, every logical thought and pride you were trying to build, collapses inside you, making you putty in his arms. As you always do. 

But tonight, something more is happening, “Logan.” You managed to call out his name in a whisper, begging for something. He feels the same way too, “I know, baby. I know.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he starts to kiss each one of your cheeks. He tells himself repeatedly in his mind, “No, not her. Anyone but her, you dipshit. You’ll lose her if you do this.” A belief that he has been telling himself every day.

What you don’t know about Logan, after all this time, is how he is afraid that if he touches you, if he shows you his feelings, you will be gone from this world. If he cares about you, he will lose you. He is in fear that the cruel world will take you away. As it always does to people he cared.

Bad shit happens to people I care about. And he managed to hold onto this thinking and compose himself every time.

Until now. 

Your whimpers and pleads get to him–he cannot hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He peppers your face with kisses, everywhere but where you need him the most, your lips. “L-Logan…” you feel your face getting hotter every moment. “Ah, p-please–”, you greedily grind your lower body onto his thighs. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groans while breathing all over your face, “You have no idea what I would do to you, the shit I’d do for you.” One of his hands gets under your nightgown and he succeeds in squeezing your tit. “Ah!” you squeak in surprise and quickly get embarrassed when he chuckles at the noises you make. 

When your gaze meets him, the force can no longer be stopped. What you both try to bury deep down, what you two were locking away in a box, is bolting itself abruptly. The thumps of his heart match yours. There is no going back now.

While breaking a promise, he makes a new promise to himself: that he’d protect you before all the bad shit happens. He will not let any of it get to you. 

After a brief staring contest and lingering doubts, he loses himself, mutters ‘Fuck this shit’ under his breath, and locks his lips on yours, melting you completely into his embrace. You gasp into his mouth and tighten your hug around him. His tongue finds yours sensually as he cradles your head to deepen the kiss. It was the first time he kissed you. 

“It’s just you and me, kid.” He blurted out against your mouth and you could not conceal your smile. Whatever you both were trying to suppress, it’s now roaming free in liberation. 

His mouth grins at your reaction and before he can stop himself, he confesses, “‘M sorry for how I acted these days. This old man was so fuckin’ afraid of how things would turn out.” 

You were about to say it’s okay but he continues, “But he will try his best from now on. What d’ya think? Hm?” Logan looks over at you hesitantly, afraid of what you’d reply. His ‘confession’ does sound way better in his head, when he practiced beforehand. You didn’t know that, of course. 

A giggle went out of your lips, “I think I’d like that.” you say breathlessly before kissing him again. 

Our brain is meant to be effective. It is not designed to be right at all times. Well, sometimes we are right, but we experience the wrongs more. What we thought we knew, we don’t. What we thought we didn't know–maybe we do. Especially about another person and their feelings. Similar to what you thought Logan Howlett feels. 

Following that night, things had changed between the both of you. The ‘boundaries’ separating you two are torn into pieces, in a good way. Now you are reminded by the nature of your relationship through everything. When he comes back home to you every day, when he puts his arms around you while you are cooking dinner, when he kisses the crown of your head before sleeping, when he fixes your favorite kitchen chair, and many other whens. 

Including now, when he kisses you so roughly and gently at the same time, fueled by the desire he kept while he was still stubborn back. Logan hiked up your dress until he could feel your breasts, pinching one nipple.  “Missed you– missed you so much today.” He says while kissing down between your chest and your stomach, “Missed this,” somewhere in between. You are not so sure. 

“Tell me, did you miss me too, Little Missy?” Logan, who is kneeling before, tilts his head upwards so he can see your face. You cover your blushing face, shying away from him and his question like you are used to, “You know the answer.”

He picks you up from the kitchen with one hand and puts you down on your shared bed, “Oh, you don’t wanna say it?” You shake your head in an attempt to tease him. Lying down on your back and with parted legs, you can feel his rough beard while he kisses your inner thigh. “Aight' then, we may just see it.” 

By seeing it, he means ripping your white underwear, the one you adored the most and has a pink ribbon, “Shh. I’ll buy you another one.” Logan quickly says before he can hear your protesting remarks.  

“Really liked that one... ah!” The tip of his tongue probes your entrance without much warning, lapping up and down your cunt. “See, baby? You missed me so much. She’s dripping here.” 

You feel embarrassed with how he is looking at you down there as if he is inspecting you. Unconsciously, you try to close your legs slightly. Logan does not like this as delivers a soft spank to one of your butt cheeks. “So shy all the time when it’s just your old man.”  

Now, his rough hands are gripping each one of your thighs and keeping you in place. His tongue lapped at your pussy—from your hole to your clit, circling and sucking until you can feel his beard slicked up by your juices. Whimpering, your hands desperately pull at his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if he isn’t already eating you up. 

He chuckles darkly when you whine pathetically at the movement of his one thick finger entering your wet hole. “Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He huffed and looked up at you with pure animalistic need as his fingers worked your walls, hitting that gummy spot that had you crying.

“Please! P-please—Logan. Want you inside,” This plead makes Logan stop his actions and glance up at you, questioningly. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, but you are sure about this. “‘M ready, pleaseplease…”  

Logan has been denying you his cock for who knows how long. All this time, he gets you off by his mouth, thighs, fingers, anything except his cock. He always has an excuse, “You’re not ready for me, baby.” Or “This ain’t about me, kid.” Or “My old bones are too tired today. Next time, yeah?” Each one of them frustrates you. 

Your virginity is making him hold himself back. You know this, he knows this. Deep down, he still thinks he is a filthy man who does not fully deserve you and that he is ruining you. He thinks by not penetrating you by his cock, he gains some sense of decency but he really is just unsure. Not about you, no, never. About himself. 

But when you look at him with those big eyes while sprawling yourself bare to him, how could he deny you? “Are you sure? Fuck. Can’t hold myself back anymore.” Logan takes off his crumpled white shirt, undoes his belt, and tosses them away, making a clinking sound that echoes through the room. His eyes grew dark with raw desire as he brought down his pants and fists his large cock in his hand. All while looking at you. 

“Yes! Please, please, give it to me. ‘Can take it!” You snapped with excitement and lean up, pressed a kiss to a part of his greying beard—the older man grins at your eagerness. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.” Logan lifts both of your legs and puts his mouth on your mound once more, making sure that you’re ready and you haven’t changed your mind.

Between his hunger licks on your pussy and the probes of his thick fingers, he mutters, “I fuckin’ love you.” And that statement itself makes you cry out his name and come all over his fingers and tongue, “L-Logan!”

“Atta girl.” You arch your back in a euphoric state of your orgasm. He could smell you. Every part of you. “So beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

He helps you remove every fabric you had on, your pretty white sundress, your bra, your socks—everything that is separating you and him. Now you and he are completely bare, “All this for your old man, huh?” He mumbles the rhetorical question into the chilly air, his hands ghosting over your perked nipples and pinching them softly, then kisses each one of them. He goes down on you again and kisses your clit one more time. 

The sight of him makes your breath caught in your throat. You swallow your spit at the look of greying bread glistening with your cum, at the sight of his thick cock springing against his stomach. “Is my baby ready for me?” You nod your head eagerly at him, assuring him that this is what you want. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself between your bodies, “Use your big girl words, darlin’” He nudges at your already wet entrance, waiting for your response, taking his time with you. 

“‘M ready..! I want this, want you.” You pamper kisses all over his face the same way when he comforts you during your nightmare. His forehead meets yours and he kisses your lips gently as a form of understanding your needs. “Hold on t’me, my sweet girl.” 

Then his tip slips inside and you gasp into his mouth, “Good girl. My good girl. You can take it.” You tighten your grip around him as he pushes himself deep inside you, “D-Doing so good, baby. Just a little more,” down to the hilt—his cock bottoms out, “There ya’ go, princess.” Logan coos at your trembling state. 

He swallows your moans with a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. “Feel so fuckin’ good. I fuckin’ love you.” There he says it again while he pulls himself all the way out to just the tip, then all the way back in—making you throw your head upwards.

Logan growls and kisses your bare neck, leaving some marks on it but you don’t care, in fact, you want him to. “I love you too, Logan.” You utter those words to him as he rams into you, his thrusts going faster and faster as he loses himself watching you. The friction of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt is addictive, the pleasure makes the older man grunts. 

He thrusts harder, his hips slamming into home, the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, alongside your little ah ah ah's . 

"Cum for me, baby. Come for your old man." With one final, powerful thrust, he releases inside your tight heat, his warm seed filling you as he curses and lets his head fall onto your embrace.

"Ah!" You shudder as you clench tight around him and milk his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body giving out of control as you experience another release of the night. 

Logan lifts his head to scan over the scene before him. He had never seen anything like it and he had seen a lot of shit. Your figure is all fucked out and filled. He didn’t think anything could be more beautiful than what he has right now. And he says it again before bringing his lips into yours, “It’s just you and me.” 

You tiredly return his kiss and look at him with a soft smile, “It’s just you and me.” 

His meaningless and plain life becomes something again because of you. You are the anchor of his life and his reason not only to stay but to fight and protect. 

Logan knows there are things that can be stopped, but then there is love.

He is in so deep too. This time, the both of you willingly let it linger. It’s just you and him.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Five

A/N: First Sunday without a new hotd episode, how are we feeling? Hopefully, this fic can help fill that hotd void. Once again, thank you so much for all of your comments, likes, and reblogs on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one, too <3

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Synopsis: In Jace's absence, the reader contends with their feelings, finally coming to the realization that these feelings aren't going away.

Tag List: @rinisfruity14, @gaiaea, @rexorangecouny, @burningwitchobject, @brckenmemories, @thenotesapppoet, @elleclairez

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tension hangs in the air throughout the entire Keep the next morning. As you walk down the halls towards Rhaena’s room, you hear hushed discussions, spot worried faces, and fear slowly creeps over you.

The first thing you hear when you get to Rhaena’s room is her hushed tone saying, “He’ll be fine.” You feel as though you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be, and try to walk back out, but Baela spots you and waves you in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say.

“You didn’t,” Baela says.

“Is everything alright?”

“There is unrest in the Iron Islands,” Rhaena says. “It seems the Lannisters and a few lords of the Iron Islands have been fighting over territory.”

“It is an uprising,” Baela corrects. “And the queen has sent Jace to attend to it.”

“Tend to it?” you ask quietly, panic icing your body.

“He’s going to be fine,” Rhaena says, looking to her sister.

“I know,” she says softly.

“He might not see any battle,” she says. “We don’t yet know what the status is.” They both look equally concerned for Jace, and you hate that you can’t share your own concern with them.

He had come to your room last night, and with a horrifying realization, you know he was coming to tell you goodbye. He had been trying to tell you he was leaving, and you had denied him.

“He’ll be fine,” you agree aloud, because he is your prince and that’s what everyone must say when the heir is in danger; but also because you need to believe it for yourself, too.

In the coming days, rumors spread. Some claim there is absolutely no warring in the islands, just quarrels between land-hungry lords. Others say it is bloodshed comparable to the peaks of the war. And there are those who declare it is all a ruse to solidify the crown's position.

None of it makes you feel any better. There is, however, the bitter hope inside of you that Lord Blacktyde is somehow involved and might be taken out by an arrow or swing of a sword, if fighting has indeed broke out. But your thoughts can’t rest there for long, so stuck on Jace are they.

You keep playing over what happened in the Dragonpit, how you left things. It seemed the right thing to do, albeit painful. There was no future for you and Jace, giving in to it for even a day would doom you for the rest of your life.

You try to throw yourself into other tasks. You embroider a dress for Jeyne, go to the coast with Rhaena to watch her bond with Morning, and keep your meetings with more suitors.

There is one such suitor, a Ser Swann, who you have met with twice before. He is kind, can sometimes make you laugh, and is by far the best candidate. But when he looks at you, when his hand brushes yours, you feel nothing.

You remember how you clung to Jace in the Dragonpit, the easy way he held you and made you feel safe. Even just the feeling of your hand in his sent a spark through you. You hate to compare the two men, but every interaction with Jace, even just a passing meeting in the hallway, left your heart racing.

During your date with Ser Swann, these thoughts never leave you. Everything he does, you imagine from someone else's lips, someone else's hand. That night, as you lay in bed, you toss and turn. It has been five days since Jacaerys left, and still, you cannot get him out of your thoughts.

Why did you refuse him entry? Why did you drop his hand? Why didn’t you kiss him, just once?

Jace had created plenty of opportunity for the two of you to kiss. He had sat next to you in this very bed, taken care of you, seen you at your lowest, and still he wanted to kiss you. He brought you to spar with him, clearly seeing the way you were longing for him, and kept you close to him, to see if you would finally act. In the gardens and in the Dragonpit, he had held your body to his, kept you safe, and yet, you pushed him away.

What was wrong with you?

He will return from the Iron Islands, you know. You have to believe. But the chance you might have had with him, you fear is quickly dwindling away.

You had told him he would ruin you, if you gave into your desires. But the truth was, he already had ruined you. You know that now. Ser Swann was a perfectly fine gentleman, and you could have been happy with him, if you didn’t know that there was better.

You are ruined for any other man, because every other man is not him.

You get very little sleep that night. When Brigitta comes in the next morning to wake you, you are already up, exhaustion written over your face.

“My lady,” she says, slightly in chaste, but also in concern.

“I’m fine, Brigitta. Nothing a cup of tea won’t fix.” She is silent as she prepares the tea for you, but when she brings it over, there is a note left next to the mug.

“He left that for you,” she says. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to read it or not, but I think you better.”

“Thank you,” you say, forgetting the tea altogether as you rip open the seal. Brigitta gives you a moment's privacy and goes about getting your outfit ready for the day.

Y/N – I am sorry to leave without saying goodbye. Do not worry for me, I promise I will return safely. I hope that the time I am gone will be enough space for you, as I would very much like to continue our conversation from the Dragonpit, if you’ll grant me such leave.

Yours, Jace

“Are you ready, My Lady?” Brigitta asks. You aren’t sure if she's referring to something in the note, the dress she holds in her hand, or something else, but the letter has given you a new sense of purpose.

“I am.”

As she gets you ready, Brigitta lets you know that the flowers in the gardens have bloomed and recommends that you see them for yourself today. You had forgotten to find a task for the day, and you’re thankful for her idea.

You are making your way towards the gardens, when he comes around the opposite hallway.

“Prince Jacaerys,” you say, stopping abruptly in the hallway. Your knees wobble, nearly knocking you to the floor, seeing him in one piece. “I didn’t realize you had returned.”

“Just,” he says. You take a moment to look him over, checking for any visible injuries.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see you that night,” you say, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your gown. Jace frowns at you, frowns at the movement. He glances at the guards following him and nods them away. You watch them slip into the nearest door.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, “You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did say that,” you say, “But if you are heading into dangerous territory, of course I would want to know, want to hear you out,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Needless to remind you, Y/N, I’m a prince,” he says, “Often I am sent to do dangerous things.”

“Of course,” you say with a tight-lipped smile. Sudden frustration fills your bloodstream at his cool demeanor. He has never acted this closed off with you and you aren't sure how to navigate through it. The courage you had felt when you left your room seems to be fading quickly.

“I got your letter,” you say weakly.

“Good,” he says, glancing down at his boots. There is a strange silence, that is so unlike the two of you. He is nervous, angry with with you, or just over his feelings? This behavior from him is so unexpected, you want to run away before you do something embarrassing.

“Well, welcome home, Your Highness,” you say stiffly.

“You sound as though you were worried for me,” he says, before you can turn from him. You meet his eyes, and somewhere in them, you see the Jace you know.

“You are the future of the realm, of course I worry for you,” you say. Jace lets out a tut of laughter, closing some of the distance between the two of you.

“Of course,” he says to himself. “Is that all?” he asks, his eyes locking with yours again.

“What?”

“Is that the only reason you worried?”

“Jace,” you say, your voice barely a breath.

“I hate it when you call me anything other than Jace,” he says with a smile. At the sight of that smile, ridiculously, your breathing turns shallow. You watch Jace’s eyes fall to your chest, watching the rise and fall of your breasts. You realize how close he has gotten to you, how close you’ve allowed him to get.

“I could have died, I very nearly almost did,” he says lowly. Your eyebrows scrunch in worry, and Jace brushes your hair out of your face, his hand cupping your cheek. “Because I know you, I know you must have thought about if I did. You must have thought about regrets, what you would do if you ever saw me again.”

“Jace,” you try again, putting a hand on his chest, partially to push him away, and also to feel him, feel his beating heart. He is right and he knows it. He has grown to know you so well in the last weeks. Every night, you played this moment over in your mind again and again, what you would do when you saw him again.

“Y/N,” he says, just as soft.

“I didn’t worry too much,” you whisper, lying, “You told me you’d return.” Jace’s eyes flick between yours and your lips.

“You believed me?” he asks lowly.

“Yes,” you say, realizing that it was easy. You trust him and believe in him. Up until the Dragonpit, you had truly thought that his feelings were based purely on attraction. But seeing him now, looking into his eyes, you know he was telling the truth. It’s love in his eyes, and a weight lifts off you when you realize the same feeling is inside you, too. You love him, and in that moment, you know that no matter what comes, you want him, for as long as you can have him.

“Was this enough time apart?” he asks with a smile, “I’m not sure I can—”

“Yes,” you say, and before Jace gets the chance to say anything, your lips finally, finally meet his. His lips are soft, and it only takes a moment for him to shake his shock and take control of the kiss. You very nearly moan as he does, seamlessly pinning you against the wall.

Your hands are on his face, in his hair, anything to pull him closer. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you do moan. The sound elicits a similar one from Jace, and he presses you firmer into the wall. His rough hands trail down your sides, gripping your waist, holding you flush against him. In that moment, you would have let him touch you anywhere and everywhere, just to keep him close to you, keep him alive.

A throat clears at the end of the hallway, and you snap back to your senses, breaking away from each other. You take a healthy step back from him and adjust your dress. Jace is breathing heavily, a beautiful smile on his face.

A glance down the hall reveals a white cloak, just a shoulder standing outside of the doorframe. You assume it’s Ser Harrold, thankfully bringing you both to your senses.

You look at Jace and both laugh when his eyes meet yours. He moves closer to you, and takes your hand, placing a gentle, but far too long to be proper, kiss to it. You take a shaky breath at the look in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“I love you,” you say gently. Jace’s eyes widen, and he looks to be in physical pain that he can’t kiss you again. He just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Lady Y/N,” he says.

“I’m just happy you’ve returned.”

“As am I,” he says. He nods down the hallway, holding out an arm for you. You take it, your pulse quickening at the closeness of your bodies. You look up at him, seeing the smile on his lips, the slight pink tint to them from your kiss.

“I need to see my mother, tell her about my journey,” he says, continuing the walk down the hallway, “But I want to see you as soon as possible. Will you join me for supper tonight? In my quarters.”

“Jace,” you start. He looks down at you, a smile growing on his face.

“Please.”

You can only nod your head. He smiles and breaks from your side, leaving you cold. He kisses your hand once again.

“My chambers, just after sunset,” he says.

“Yes.”

It is dark in his room when you arrive. This shouldn’t surprise you; he invited you after sunset. But in the dark, you aren’t sure what you’ll do. You broke all conduct and kissed him in daylight, with several guards within earshot.

Candles are strewn about his room. Soft light illuminates Jace in the corner, adjusting his shirt nervously in the mirror. In the reflection, he sees you, and a smile grows on his face.

He crosses the room in two strides and rest his hands on your waist. His lips are gentle when they meet yours. You push him off at the first brush, looking around the room anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tugging at your waist slightly to have you face him. “I dismissed all the servants. Ser Harold is the only one at the door. He has already promised his secrecy.” You let out a sigh, smiling at him as you trace his jawline with your finger. He closes the gap between the two of you again, and you don’t pull away this time.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, resting his forehead against yours when he breaks away.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh. Jace kisses you again before taking your hand and leading you over to his table. A small feast is laid out before you. Jace pulls out a chair for you, pushing you in with ease.

“I hope wine is alright,” he says, pouring some into your goblet. “I know the mead we had before didn’t agree with you.”

“Wine is wonderful,” you say, “And I don’t think it was the mead that made me sick.”

“What then?” he asks, sitting across from you.

“Feelings I was trying to fight,” you say.

“You don’t seem to be fighting them anymore."

“I don’t think it’s a battle I can win. Or even want to win," you say, taking a sip of the sweet wine.

“And you came to this realization while I was gone?” he asks, drinking from his own glass. Your eyes watch the movement along his neck greedily.

“Before you left, I said that you would ruin me, if we gave into this feeling between us.”

“I remember,” he says, setting his jaw. You reach across the small table and take his hand, your thumb brushing against his skin.

“But while you were gone, I realized you already had ruined me. Ruined every other man for me. You infiltrated my mind and my heart, Jace. If I can only have you for a day, I’ll take it, rather than live my life with regret.”

“It won’t be just a day," he says, gripping your hand firmly, his eyes wide with emotion.

“I hope so.”

“I am still talking with my mother. We will find a way to keep us together.”

“I believe you,” you say, “But I don’t want to talk about the future anymore, uncertain as it is. I just want to be here with you tonight.”

Fuck, he could stay like this forever: his hands wrapped around your waist, yours on his shoulders, your soft lips locked with his. The evening had progressed to a couch in his chambers – neither of you ready to move to the bed just yet.

He had wanted this for so long, had imagined it a hundred times over. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you wanting him just as much. Never did he believe you would love him, too. And never did he imagine that kissing you would feel this good.

Your hand cups his jaw, drawing him closer. Your chest presses against his. He wants to pull you in, wants your bodies to become one, but he reminds himself that this is just the first night. There will be more to come.

“Jace,” you say, breaking away to catch your breath. He is not so eager to break contact. His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you into his lap.

“Yes?” he says against your neck, his mouth traveling down the slender column. You breathe shakily, your body pressing into his when his tongue glides over the sensitive skin at your collarbone. He hums happily, exploring which parts make you press into him, which make you whimper.

“Jace,” you say again.

“Yes, Y/N?” he says, smiling against your molten skin.

“It’s getting late,” you say, whining when he bites softly, careful to not leave a mark. “I need to get back to my own chambers.”

“But there’s so much I’ve yet to explore,” he says, looking at you. Your pupils are blown wide, a sight that fills him with male satisfaction. He tastes your lips softly, in between smiles.

“Like what?” you ask. A wicked look passes over his face.

“Well,” he says, “Here.” He kisses the hinge of your jaw, relishing the arch of your back at his actions.

“Here.” He bites gently on your ear lobe.

“Jace,” you gasp.

“And I didn’t even get to these,” he says, his hand cupping your breast. “You have no idea how much I love these.”

Despite what you said, you kiss him again, falling back onto the couch as he continues to palm your breasts. His hands move down to your hips, gripping tightly, and holding you flush against him. But never any further than that.

You stay there for a long while. Each time you suggest that you need to leave, Jace manages to convince you to stay. Eventually though, you extract yourself from underneath him. For a moment, you just look at each other, the flushed skin, the clothes that hang awkwardly.

“I love you,” he says, smiling at you as you try to bring some semblance of order to your unruly hair. You look over at him, a soft smile on your own face.

“I’m glad for it,” you say. You stand, tugging at your dress, before presenting yourself to Jace. “How do I look?” you ask.

“Gorgeous,” he says, taking your hand, kissing up your arm.

“I mean,” you say with a laugh, pulling your arm from him, “Do I look presentable?” He stands and looks you over for a long moment, making you shake your head. He snakes his arm around your waist.

“You do,” he says, kissing your lips softly. Your arms wrap around him again, and for a second, he thinks he might convince you to stay. But you hum against his mouth and pull away. Your hand rests on his chest as you catch your breath.

“Stop doing that,” you say with a laugh.

“Doing what?”

“Making me want to stay.”

“Maybe,” he says, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. He knows you can feel how much he wants you, how much he has wanted you all night. “You should just stay.”

“It’s late,” you sigh.

“Another reason to stay.”

“Brigitta will be expecting me.”

“Maids are good at keeping secrets,” he says, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him gently. It’s the millionth time you’ve kissed him today, but still, each time feels like the first. Like it’s air, like it’s a touch he's waited for his whole life. “I have to go.”

“Let me walk you to your chambers at least,” he says as you pull from his grasp. His hand reaches for yours and trails out of it as you keep moving.

“I think I can make it on my own.”

“It’s late, you never know who might be prowling around the castle.”

“All the more reason to keep you protected, Your Highness,” you say, back resting against his door. Jace smiles, the title now feeling like a joke between the two of you, instead of propriety.

“I really can’t convince you to stay, can I?” he asks. You shake your head at him, a small smile on your face. “Very well.” He makes to open the door, but his hand instead rests against it, the other wraps around your waist, bringing your lips to his again. You gasp into the kiss, the sound making Jace practically feral with need. He holds you for a long while before you put a hand to his chest, bringing you both back to the present moment.

“Goodnight, Jace,” you say.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, reluctantly opening the door for you. Ser Harrold is stationed there still, and Jace feels a modicum of shame that the knight probably heard the last bit of your conversation. You exchange a look with him, your cheeks red with embarrassment, and you both laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

“I look forward to it, My Prince.”

[pensandsliverswords]

thankssss for the tag! <3

Last song - Puddleglum’s Anthem by Sarah Sparks favotite color - woad blueee and mustard yellllowww last movie/tv show - Prince of Egypt/Hogan’s Heroes currently watching - Castle sweet/savory/spicy - sweeeeet! relationship status - single current obsession - Star Wars (but that’s nothing new) last thing googled - images of swallowtail butterflies

@chaotic-bumblebee-agenda @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @bookdragon1811 @pepperonyscience @offendedteaspoon

9 people I would like to know better

Thank you for tagging me @drewstarkeysbae!!

last song? Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

favorite color? Red

last movie/tv show? The 100

currently watching? Invasion

sweet/spicy/savoury? Spicy

relationship status? Talking

current obsessions? Jack championnnn

last thing you googled? Jessica Lord (bc Matt Rife is dating her lmfaoo)

No pressure tags: @reychvmpion @runningfrom2am @rvfecamerons @serial444killer @corpsebasil @heavensghost @heavenhillgirl @11133 @polishlolita

[kennahjune]

Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part four

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

[sixosix]

END NOTE | THAWED

a little love letter to my readers

to start off, i know that the series is based off the entire reputation album, but i like to think that this whole series was written around call it what you want.

how it started LMFAOOO

This was previously titled ‘melt’ before i was like ‘nah ill make it, like, thaw” and earthtooz went, “Thawed?” little did earth know,, that name would literally take over my docs,,, my tags,,, my ENTIRE account

A message to my readers: From the bottomest bottom of my heart, if you have reached this series until the very end, thank you so, so much for reading. Read that sentence again. And again, until you realize how grateful I truly am as a writer. Thawed is such a big project that I still can’t believe I was able to even start. I genuinely never thought it would garner this much attention, and in all honestly, I was intimidated by it, because I had no idea what I was doing, and I was afraid I would disappoint.

This entire project was intimidating, and I considered so many times to just drop it and end it on chapter five. I struggled so badly to write after I introduced the characters, and I thought: “well, that’s it. I guess it was fun.” I even told my friends that I would do that; and yet 14 chapters later, look at where we are now 😭

Writing it was so exhausting. Working on a series while studying as a student really makes it difficult to remember details about my own story T__T I had to reread Thawed so many times to the point where I don’t even like it anymore.

But I know the reason why I decided to continue it! It sounds so horribly cliche, but it’s true. It’s thanks to all your overwhelming support :( Each ask, comment, reblog—they all fueled me more than you think. All those replies of even incoherent gibberish made me realize that, ‘hey, someone read it and liked it enough to send an ask about it. Maybe I am doing something right!!!!’

some thawed extras for readers who are interested

If you haven’t noticed, the chapter titles aren’t actually accurately about the chapter. Those titles were taken from the songs in the Reputation album, in order. And the chapters are loosely based around them!

reputation is, like, widely known as the edgy album from taylor, but in reality its such a big love letter and i know that other people noticed that, too! i think it’s very fitting to the story of thawed: it’s dark and messy, but at the end of the day, it’s a love story. do you get what i mean hehe. i hope that’s how the series came across…

im sorry if aether doesnt appear in the last chapter :( in my head, mc is coming home. and by then i dont think aether would be in fontaine at all! but rest assured they definitely have met up twice or thrice while in the other regions heehee. Also aether will ofc be there for their weeding. 🙏

i have nothing much else to say aside from thank you for reading! i hope u enjoyed thawed as much as i did

[f4riedimples]

teachers pet

Pairings: katniss Everdeen x fem!reader

warnings: slight age difference(you can determine how much older katniss is than you for now),teacher/student relationship, affairs, talks of past trauma, g*le(1 mention)(no smut in this one sorry!)

summary: it was fucking beautiful, until it went too far.

wc:1603

a/n: I am not promoting anyone to do this irl, don’t let this flop, changed the og summary(I can tag u in the og ss)

This was never how it was supposed to happen.

At first you just came in and it was innocent practice.

How did it become more?

You never thought that this would happen and you felt guilty about it. But you didn't wanna tell anyone because not only did you not wanna rat out Katniss but you still enjoyed everything she did those days and nights as well

Just last week you lied about having to stay longer for "extra practice" to someone. In reality you were doing something you weren't meant to be.

You were sleeping with your teacher.(bow and arrow instructor)The mockingjay.

Katniss Everdeen.

Were you proud of it? Not completely but did it feel good for both you and Katniss? Hell yes.

And shamefully you were starting to feel something deeper for Katniss. But you knew you couldn't express it. She had peeta. And besides. She's older than you.

She would probably just try to dismiss it.

But you'd still go back. Out of love and out of the shameful way you would moan underneath her and twitch as she gave you what you wanted.

That was good enough. For now.

Right now instead of where you both usually practice which is in the woods or at a training center she's told you to come to her house.

Once you knock you know there's no point of even pretending to train. She was gonna take you.

She opens the door with a warm smile that turns into a small smirk once she sees you.

"Hi there Girl Scout. Looking for someone?" She jokes before chuckling. You can't help but giggle before she makes room for you too come inside.

You take a look around the house you've only been too once. Or twice. Or three times If you can remember. It's been a few months since you and Katniss started this but you haven't been able to come over her house that much.

"Hey Kat." You speak before looking down with a certain look in your eye. Katniss can't tell if it's just a soft look or if you want her.

At the end of the day you know you're here to do more than just hang out.

She takes a seat next to you. "Well hi there." You turn your body and look Katniss up and down as if you're asking if she's ready.

She's been through so much because of gale, the capitol, president snow and coin. Maybe she needs a stress relief. Although she's never really brought it up it still makes you think she deserves this.

Especially when she's rough. She needs to get her anger out.

She simply gives you a light kiss on your jaw then cheek before finally giving one on your lips. You moan as she slips her tongue into your mouth and gets a taste of you.

You, of course, immediately kiss back. Why wouldn't you? You both love this after all.

You run your fingers through Katniss' hair as she

puts her hands on your waist to pin you in place. Oh, the ideas that are coming to your pretty little head.

Just before you and Katniss can actually get down you both hear a knock on the door and immediately separate.

You instinctively whisper. "Who the hell is that?"

You ask with wide eyes before she speaks with a non whisper.

"I dunno." She shrugs casually and calmly before getting up with a sigh. She walks to the door but stops midway before turning around and speaking with a lower voice.

"Oh, and just so you remember, I don't think anyone would think anything If they saw me with a younger girl. Even if you're my student." She reminds you casually before turning around and walking back to the door.

She opens it and sees Johanna. "Well hey there brainless."

You see the smile on Johanna's face before she notices you and squints hers eyes slightly. Could she already be suspecting what's going on?

If she did you wouldn't be surprised since Johanna is pretty smart. As they talk you head to the bathroom and when you're out you get a bit of curiosity.

You decide to head to Katniss' room and go inside.

It's of course empty since she's downstairs with Johanna so you take opportunity to be nosy and look around.

You decide not to look on her dresser because that might have some precious things from her family but you do decide to look around and move towards her bed ready to take a seat.

Before you can however, you hear someone open the door and immediately turn around almost scared that it's Johanna or haymitch came over. Even worse:peeta.

Once you turn around to the person ready to explain you see it's just Katniss with a slight smile. "Hey baby. What are you doing in here?" She asks a little confused.

"Oh- I just didn't wanna interrupt what you and Johanna were talking about." You say with a nervous chuckle. Before you can apologize Katniss puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Oh that's no problem. You're always allowed in my room as long as you don't snoop around." She says calmly which you reply with a head nod. "Okay!"

And before you know it Katniss pins you against the wall. She of course had no intent on actually doing anything with you exactly at this moment but she liked seeing you nervous.

"Um- well this seems fun." You reply starting to shake the nerves off. Katniss gives a light hearted chuckle. "That's a good girl." She says before giving you a kiss on the head.

It was gentle and sweet which is something you liked about Katniss. She's didn't make you feel pressured into anything but she also didn't make you feel like a child.

It felt like a normal relationship.

"Now cmon. I think Johanna wants to see you." She says before taking your hand and leading you down

stairs. Once there you both immediately have a seat.

"So how've you been brainless junior?" Johanna quips mockingly. But not seriously at the same time.

It was an insult that she didn't care if you fight like but she also wasn't her intent to make you possibly upset.

You laugh at the nickname usually meant for Katniss. "Doing just well hothead." You spoke the half truth.

This was gonna be an interesting ride.

You and Katniss weren't getting to do anything which internally made you nervous and a little irritated not just for yourself but mostly katniss since you know that's probably the main thing she cares about doing with you.

You could tell by the look in her eyes she was upset especially when Johanna made a comment about inviting haymitch.

You saw the time and realized that your "lessons" were about to end. You get up from where you rested and head towards the door, followed by Katniss.

Katniss turns you around and looks at your face realizing that you're on edge. "What's wrong?" She asks as if she doesn't know.

You whisper trying not to feel any certain way.

"Because what do you think? Why didn't you tell me Johanna was coming over?" You ask trying to keep your composure. It's not like you mind Johanna's presence but this wasn't the time.

Katniss sighs before whispering back. "I didn't know okay? Besides you're acting like I'm upset we didn't have sex. I'm just upset we didn't get to spend a lot of time together." Katniss speaks pretty honestly causing you to sigh in a mix of relief and guilt.

Maybe you should've came quicker. (Something both you and Katniss have said before)

"I just- i thought that was the plan today." You say causing Katniss to roll her eyes at the idea. "Yeah."

"I did want sex. But I also wanted to see you just to see you." This wasn't one of the days Katniss just wanted to see you out of horniness which surprises

you.

"Oh..." Katniss softens up a bit. "We don't need to

have sex twenty four seven. Some days I really just wanna spend time with you." She speaks truthfully but you can't help but remember a thought just as

you were gonna smile.

"You have peeta. You don't need some random girl, someone you're training on the side." You whisper almost as if you're really getting upset now.

Katniss doesn't get mad immediately and actually seems a bit concerned and like she's trying to calm you down. Maybe just so Johanna won't hear or her suspicions.

"Listen, I know that. But I wanted you too. Why is that such a problem? We have each other now." Katniss says, developing a bit of attitude.

"So what? This is stupid. I can't keep doing this to myself Katniss. I might never be able to be with you like I want to not only because of my age. But because you're with peeta." You whisper your argument to Katniss. Trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Katniss starts with her feathers a bit ruffled. "It's it fucking stupid. I want you both. That's what I'm gonna get. Because you're perfect. I love you."

Katniss ends soft. She had never said this before.

Maybe she was just as deep as you knew you were.

There might be no going back on your emotions. You look up a bit stunned. "Okay.." you say a bit confused. Could this be true? "I- I love you too."

You spoke then giving Katniss a smile. Then you left.

Too blinded to turn back.

[sturnina]

Showtime

Matt Sturniolo x actress!reader

— tags;; resolved angst, relationship angst, jealousy, arguments, happy ending

— wc;; 2.8k

— author's note;; based on this ask, i changed the setting to a theatre performance since that's easier for me to relate to, i hope that's okay <3 + the ending sucks, sorry for that

The energy backstage is unmistakable. The air is buzzing with excitement, garments are rustling, and you can hear the faint whispers of people rehearsing their roles one last time before it is time to step on stage.

You’re standing at the end of the room, arms crossed over your dress, and trying to ignore the nervous pit in your stomach. This is not the first time you’ll be standing on a stage in front of hundreds of people, far from it. It will also not be the last time, hopefully far from it as well. It’s also not your first time having a huge role, so that’s not what you’re worried about either.

What makes this premiere such a big thing for you is that your boyfriend of a few months will be watching. You got Matt and his brothers first-row tickets, and the way you know him he forced them to leave early so he could guarantee that he’s on time. It’s the first time he’ll be seeing you on stage, and you refused to tell him anything about the play or your part — except that you might just have got the main role (and are very proud of that fact).

You must’ve looked absolutely frozen because your friend walks up to you and lays a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s gonna be alright,” she promises, an encouraging smile on her lips. “You rocked the rehearsals.”

Grinning, you quickly shake your stiffness off. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great,” you agree.

“Your boy Matt, he’s coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, even just the thought of him lighting your face up in a smile.

“And he’s okay with… you know, that scene with Oliver?” she asks, nodding over to the guy who plays your love interest, aka Odysseus, the Greek hero lost on the sea for a decade. He‘s standing in front of a wall, staring at it intently, challenging the plaster as if it were Poseidon keeping him from returning home. He’s locked in already.

Smacking your lips, you nod. “He’ll know it’s not real,” you say, nodding, almost as if to convince yourself. “It should be fine.”

“Girl… you didn’t tell him?” your friend asks, clearly doubting what you said.

“He knows nothing about the Odyssey, so I didn’t tell him,” you justify yourself. “Especially not a major spoiler like that.”

“I don’t think that was a good idea,” she sighs, “but you do you.”

Someone claps twice, and everyone immediately turns around. “Alright, it’s time,” the boy responsible for time-keeping says, his voice awkwardly loud in the sudden silence.

All you can hear is the audience, even through the thick doors to the dressing rooms. It’s barely there, even the whirring of the lamps above is louder, but it immediately multiplies your nervosity as you remember how many people will see you tonight. The tickets were sold out only two weeks after the performance was announced. Sold out. You can still barely fathom it, even after so many years of theatre.

“Break a leg,” you whisper to your friend who squeezes your shoulder one last time before hopping off the table and joining the group leaving the dressing room.

You follow her silently, well aware that the audience is slowly calming down, the lights are tuned lower and an almost electric atmosphere fills the room. It finds its way into your lungs, too, but you keep breathing steadily, nonetheless. You got this.

It‘s already there, the well-known feeling of slipping into a role. The person who walks on stage isn‘t you, it is Penelope, waiting for her husband to return home and tending to his land and wealth.

The murmurs behind the curtain eventually stop completely. Anticipation floods the room and replaces the pit in your stomach. The light changes. The actors and actresses are behind the stage. Except for you. And slowly, the curtain opens, revealing you, alone, in the middle of the stage. In the spotlight. Showtime, baby.

Time passes quickly when you‘re on stage. With your thoughts constantly ready for the next costume change, the next scene, the next text, you can hardly focus on the now, and yet that’s the only place where your consciousness lies. You show grief, desperation, hope, and most importantly determination every second you‘re on stage. And every time you look at the audience, you can see Matt‘s eyes looking at you with utter fascination and wonder, making your heart warm with confidence.

And then the last scene arrives. Odysseus, clothed as a poor beggar, reveals himself. Oliver tenderly takes your face in his hands. You look up at him, lips parted in awe and shock, just as you rehearsed.

“Odysseus,“ you stage-whisper, running a hand along his temple. “Is it truly you? Or have the gods deceived my eyes and feasted on my hope?“

“Penelope,“ he whispers back, the name falling so sweetly from his lips. “It’s me.” And then he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. You can‘t see Matt‘s stiffness or the bitter tug that lies around the corners of his mouth after that single movement. 

The audience sighs collectively, so much pent-up tension releasing. It‘s almost palpable as you melt into Oliver‘s- no, Odysseus‘ arms and rest your head against his chest while the curtains slowly close.

The room explodes with people cheering and clapping while the other actors and actresses quickly hurry onto the stage. With a euphoric grin on your lips, you lay your arms around the shoulders of Oliver and whoever happens to be on the other side of you, waiting for the curtains to open again. And then you bow and bow again, and run off the stage, and run back, and bow, and look for Matt in the audience, and almost trip over your own feet, and bow again, and everyone‘s laughing and cheering…

Backstage, the room is buzzing with energy as everyone hurries to change out of their Greek dresses and clean up their makeup. No one‘s actually talking, the air is filled with rustling and clinking and occasional questions like, “Can you help me open my dress?” or, “Where‘s my blush?” And then the director enters and congratulates everyone, and everyone is smiling but no one is listening.

You’re the first to leave, unable to wait any longer before seeing the triplets. But especially Matt, you can‘t wait to see his reaction.

The cold air bites your lungs, but you can‘t bring yourself to care about that as you run across the pavement, heading to the front doors of the building. With rosy cheeks and out of breath, you stop before the entrance.

But there‘s no trace of the triplets in the crowd. Assuming that they only needed to use the toilet or something, you lean against the wall, making sure to keep the doors that swing open regularly in your peripheral while you let your gaze wander over the crowd. Every time someone walks out, your head snaps back in their direction, but it‘s never a familiar face.

It takes you at least ten minutes before you realise to check your phone. The second you pull it out, a sense of dread washes over you. Nick sent you a message, a quick, “Matt wasn‘t feeling well, we needed to leave soon. Absolutely loved your performance tho, you crushed it!!” You respond with a nervous, “Okay, and thanks!”

Matt isn‘t feeling well. Now you‘re feeling ill too, the pit in your stomach coming back even worse than before the performance.

The others are going to party all evening, celebrating the premiere. You wanted to invite Matt, but now you‘re torn between going home to him or staying with a bad feeling for the rest of the night. The choice isn’t difficult, and you order an Uber.

The second you walk up to the porch of the house, Nick has already whipped it open, running to hug you first.

“Oh. My. God. That was a-maz-ing!” he exclaims, almost lifting you from the ground with his embrace. You giggle, another rush of blood flooding your cheeks as you relish in his compliments.

“Like girl, I know nothing about Greek mythology but I just know that that was exactly what Penelope felt all that time!” he continues, guiding you to the house. “So vulnerable and yet so strong. Unbelievable.”

Not knowing what to say except for thousands of thank you‘s, you just grin and sheepishly look away until you enter the house, looking for Matt. But he isn‘t here, not even as you enter the living room. Chris is lounging on the couch, lazily scrolling on his phone. He looks up as you enter, and all you can see is his slightly tense expression.

“Matt‘s in his room,” he says, just a bit too quick for your taste. And then he adds, “Great performance, by the way. I really liked… everything about it.”

You chuckle slightly at his cluelessness. Muttering a quick, “Thanks,” you proceed down the hallway to Matt‘s room.

He doesn‘t react when you knock the first time, so you do it again, even fiercer.

“Matt,” you say before you open the door and enter the room. He‘s lying in the dark on his bed, staring at his phone screen. He doesn‘t even look up.

Not that you expected him to shower you with compliments—well, you kind of did, but was that so wrong of you?—but at least something would‘ve been nice. Instead, he just keeps ignoring you. You cross your arms in front of your chest, the hurt obvious in your eyes. But he can‘t see it because his back is turned to you.

“Matt,” you say again. The air in the room is thick, but not because it smells bad. It just feels bad.

The adrenaline after the show has disappeared by now, leaving you completely drained. If you could just have this one thing—have one performance to be happy about. But no. Your boyfriend won‘t even congratulate you.

Tears dwell up in your eyes and you don‘t even try to suppress them. Everything was so much half an hour ago, and now it‘s nothing, worth absolutely nothing. The euphoria before and after the performance has dissolved, and you miss it already.

You know this feeling and hate it so, so much. Every time you get time to think after a play, everything feels like shit. You feel weak. Empty. And Matt is ignoring you. People have often wondered why you still have so much energy after acting for two hours. This is the reason: if you let go of the energy, it will absolutely wreck you.

A strained sob finally escapes your lips. Matt tenses up immediately, and he turns around to face you in the darkness of his room.

“Baby?” he whispers. “Are you crying?”

A thousand and one answers lie on your tongue, but you have the energy for none of them. Instead, another weak sob claws its way out of your chest.

Matt bites his lower lip, obviously hesitant about what to do.

“Why did you… why are you ignoring me?” you ask, feeling pathetic for the tears and sobs and choked-out words. But you don’t care to pull yourself together.

“C‘mere,” he mutters, patting the bed beside him. He‘s avoiding the question, but you don’t care. The exhaustion in your movements is obvious as you flop down next to him.

The silence is thick, despite your occasional laboured breaths and sniffles while Matt awkwardly keeps his arm around your shoulder. Eventually, when you have calmed down enough for his measures, he clears his throat.

“You didn‘t tell me.” Your heart drops.

“Tell you what?” you ask and immediately regret it.

“About… him.”

“Oliver,” you say, and he nods. “I didn‘t think there was anything to tell.”

He pulls his arm back, and you know that if there were light in the room right now, you‘d see his hurt expression.

“What do you mean, there wasn’t anything to tell? You made out with him in front of hundreds of people!” he exclaims.

“I didn‘t mean it obviously,” you try to reason. “It‘s my job, remember?”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it better.” The bitterness in his tone, the way you already know he won‘t give in, makes you grind your teeth.

“You apparently don‘t know, if you‘re behaving like this now,” you snap, scooting away from him slightly.

You just spent the entire day with last-minute rehearsals and the final play. You‘ve been up since six in the morning, working hard for it all to be perfect, for it all to work out, and all he can think about is a moment that lasted less than three seconds? Your exhaustion is gone again, blasted away by another wave of adrenaline which your body apparently can‘t get enough of.

“I can‘t help it,” he mutters, “I don‘t want to see you like that.”

“Like what?” you demand. “Doing what I love? Making it my job? Properly fulfilling my dreams?”

“That‘s not what I meant-”

“But it‘s obviously the only thing you can remember.”

“Can you stop?” he groans, running a hand over his face. “I‘m just saying, you could‘ve warned me at least. I wasn‘t expecting… that.”

You sigh, laying back on the bed. “I‘m sorry, okay? I just wanted to keep the entire thing a secret because you didn‘t know the Odyssey. I didn’t think it‘d be that big of a deal.”

He stays silent for a second, staring at his hands. “But it is,” he finally mutters. “Next time you kiss a guy, I want you to tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” you mutter, looking up at him. But the hurt and disappointment don‘t recede. “Next time I have a play, I‘ll just tell you everything about it so you can‘t complain.”

“Don‘t say that,” he says sternly. “The play was great, I just…”

“You just can’t remember any of it because you got fixated on one single moment.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Putting words in my mouth.”

“But I‘m not, am I? I‘m just reading between the lines,” you scoff.

“You‘re making me sound like an asshole who can‘t appreciate…” Your eyes snap up to meet his, and his voice slowly trails off.

“Yeah? Tell me more about this asshole I‘m making you be that‘s definitely not you.” Your voice is sarcastic and relentless.

“Fuck, I didn‘t mean it like that.”

You look at him. One eyebrow arched, arms crossed, and not going to let go of it soon.

“I‘m just jealous,“ he mutters, avoiding your gaze. “No one should get to see you like that, much less be the one to kiss you.“

Your gaze softens, but you keep looking at him. “I know. But it meant nothing. It was just for a job, and you should know that. You need to trust me.“

“I do,“ he says without hesitation. “I just don’t trust him.”

His voice is bitter again, and his eyes are focused on his hands, the fingers on his right hand twisting his ring around. You lay a hand over his, stopping the anxious movement.

“He’s an idiot,” you say firmly, “I’d never voluntarily spend time with him. But he’s a good actor, and we work well together. I promise you that all there’s ever going to be between us is respect for the others’ acting.”

The conviction in your tone seems to calm him, but he’s still not looking at you.

“God,” he eventually whispers, “I’m such a dick. I ruined your evening, didn’t I?”

“No, you…” you quickly reply, but then you hesitate. “Well…”

“You should be out celebrating with your friends because you did great at your performance, but you’re here, making sure I don’t feel bad about it, that’s not fair…”

“I’m not gonna argue against that,” you mutter, “but I get it. I should’ve told you.”

“You wanna go out?” he offers, but you shake your head.

“Next time. ‘m too tired now.” Sighing, you lean against him. He immediately stretches his arm out and lays it around your shoulders, pulling you closer again and leaning back until you’re lying in bed next to him.

“I know that I didn’t make it clear enough, but I loved it. You’re such an incredible-”

“Matt,” you interrupt him. “Not now.” Not after he refused to think about anything but the scene with the kiss.

“Okay,” Matt whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll come watch again tomorrow, and then I’ll say all the beautiful things you deserve.”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle. “It’s sold out,” you say, shaking your head. “But…”

“But?”

“I could get you in from the back, so you’ll meet Oliver as well,” you say. He visibly cringes at the thought, but then he seems to think about it.

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” he says hesitantly, pulling you flush against his chest.

A small smile is painted on your lips for the rest of the evening.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

I Remember pt. 3

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Jimin is insecure and anxious so he does things that don’t make a lot of sense :(

Word Count: ~15,500

(A/N): I don’t usually write angst so bear with me y’all 😭 Also, sorry this took so long, I started taking classes again this year and things got crazy. Hope you enjoy!

Tag: @13-manggaetteok

The sight of Jaebeom at your door makes you sick to your stomach as you realize he’s just seen Jimin standing behind you. But you try to play it off and act casual after slamming the door shut at your back, greeting him as usual.

“Jaebeom! Hi!” Forcing a smile.

“Good morning!” His smile returns and you nearly sigh in relief at his laid back personality. 

“So… what brings you here this early in the morning?” You would have liked to sleep in a bit longer, but now you have a situation to deal with before you’re even fully awake, still wiping sleep from your tear ducts. 

“Well, I was cleaning out my car and I found your jacket in my backseat so I thought I’d deliver it to you.” He offers it to you with a dramatic bow of the head, presenting it with both hands like it’s an important artifact, and you would have laughed if you weren’t so disturbed by his presence. You’d been avoiding him because you have yet to figure out how to tell him that you no longer want to see him, so this meeting is less than ideal. Especially with Jimin here. “I felt bad that we haven’t been able to see each other these past few weeks and I missed you, so I really just needed an excuse to see you. I hope I’m not intruding on anything.” He finally starts looking bashful as he reaches up to rub his neck, looking back at the closed door behind you where you assume Jimin is still near. Knowing him, he’s probably still standing there trying to eavesdrop on your conversation to see who this mysterious new man is because Jimin just simply cannot ignore drama. Even when it somewhat involves himself. 

Catching your wandering thoughts, you feel horrible for having strung Jaebeom along like this. He came here because he missed you. Missed how you used to talk and text almost every day and go on dates. And now it’s practically radio silence from you and he has no idea why. Well, he might have a clue now after seeing the man in your home. 

“That’s… really sweet of you Jaebeom.” You can’t find anything else to say. He is intruding if we’re being honest, but you don’t want to give him the wrong impression. But then again, maybe having him think Jimin is here for that type of reason will push him away and he’ll break things off with you first so you don’t have to do it to him.

“So, may I ask who that is?” He gestures past you and you’re surprised by how straightforward he’s being. 

Jimin watches from a few windows over, making sure not to press his face to the glass so you and your mysterious visitor can’t see him. Just as you thought, he is far too nosy to pass up watching this interaction. You look very uncomfortable talking to this man, body facing slightly away from him, arms crossed protectively over your front. Your eyes shift back and forth as you shift your weight to your other foot, taking a long time to speak after his last question. Jimin wonders what the man said to you to make you look like this. Were you talking about him? He’s pretty sure he made eye contact with the man when you opened the door so that is completely likely. 

Finally, you say something back to him, speaking slowly, and Jimin wishes he could read lips. The man blinks once, twice, swallowing deeply before nodding. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but it doesn’t seem like he does, closing his lips again and processing your words. You frown at this reaction, facing him head on as you give a lengthy explanation, he assumes. The guy at your door doesn’t say anything for a long while and Jimin can practically feel your anxiety through the walls. Were you telling him about him? Who is this man to you in the first place? Jimin can only assume this is the one you were talking about when you went out to dinner that one night, where you said your relationship wasn’t that serious and you could “drop him” whenever you felt like it. But watching you interact now, it seems that you value his opinion at least a little bit and are maybe a little closer than you let on originally. Jimin’s not sure how to feel about that just yet.

“So that’s Jimin.” Jaebeom trails off. “Is he living with you now?” 

“No, he’s not.” You reply stiffly. “He’s-“ For some reason you feel the need to explain yourself to him, even though you’ve determined that him getting the wrong idea would be to your benefit. But you just can’t stop yourself. “We were only hanging out. As friends.”

“As friends.” He repeats, taking in the information and digesting it, processing it with a nod of his head. You can’t decipher what he’s thinking and it’s beginning to frustrate you that he’s so unreadable. Though, you still don’t sense any jealousy from him. He never did come off as the jealous type anyway. He takes a step back from you with a half smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and doesn’t say anything until you question it. 

“What’s that look for?” You don’t try to hide your confusion.

“Oh nothing, just looks like I’ve got some competition.” This time there’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he walks away, bidding you farewell with a wave of his hand and commenting that he’ll see you later. You kinda hope he doesn’t see you later because it seems that things just got a little more complicated for you. 

Even though Jaebeom didn’t stay long, it feels like that conversation lasted hours. All you want to do is curl up under your sheets and hide from everyone as you try to figure out what to do now. He’s obviously not going to give you up easily it seems but you wonder what he plans to do moving forward. Sighing, you watch as his car drives away from your home before turning around and entering your house again, only to be faced with problem #2. Jimin.

He’s still standing a few steps from the door, not even hiding that he had been watching you talk to Jaebeom, feeling brazen due to his curiosity. You stand there staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, neither of you knowing what to say, until you break the unbearable silence finally.

“I’m guessing you want to know who that was?” Pointing a thumb behind you at the door. 

“I mean… you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s your life, you have a right to privacy.” He states, which you find funny because he was just eavesdropping not even seconds ago. You call him out on it.

“Says the person who was just standing with an ear pressed to my door to listen to my conversation.” You sass with a click of your tongue, letting a tiny smile creep up your cheeks so he doesn’t take your sentence as being hostile. He rolls his eyes at you, countering that he was not “listening in” with his ear to the door, but he does admit that he was watching from the window. “Just admit it, you were curious.”  You say with a laugh.

“Fine. But who wouldn’t be when a mysterious and handsome gentleman comes to your door in the middle of the morning to hand you- what is that, a jacket?” Jimin gestures down to your hands where you’re still holding your jacket, prompting you to walk into your bedroom to put it with the rest of your dirty clothes in the hamper. He follows closely behind you. “So, is that the guy you’ve been seeing?”

“Yeah, his name is Jaebeom.” You concede, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “But like I said before, it’s not that serious. He just came to give me back this jacket I left in his car. Don’t think too much about it.”

“It’s not serious but he drove all the way over here at the crack of dawn to give you back something as trivial as a jacket?” He questions, giving you a look.

“I haven’t been able to see him in a while so he just wanted to return it in case I needed it, you know, since he doesn’t know when or if he’ll see me again.” Your voice starts to take on a defensive tone, it going up in pitch with every word. You idly begin to tidy up, walking around to the other side of the bed to fix the sheets and put some distance between you and Jimin. He doesn’t buy your explanation, shaking his head.

“I can tell you right now that that’s not true. I bet he just missed you and was using that as an excuse to see your lovely face again. It’s what I would do.” You pause at his subtle compliment and at how spot-on his assessment of the situation was. Sure, he’s always been perceptive like this, but it catches you off guard every time. You don’t have anything else to say to him, so you continue to make your bed. “And what do you mean by ‘if’ you see him again?” He uses air quotes with his fingers for effect. “Are you not planning on seeing him anymore?”

You sigh again, moving to the other side of he bed to finish your work, pulling at the sheets more aggressively than necessary at his line of questioning. “I don’t know, Jimin. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well why not? He seems like a nice enough guy, do you not like him anymore?”

“I don’t know.” It’s not that you don’t like him, it’s just that you’ve been distracted by someone else for the time being.

“How long have you been seeing him for?”

“A few months.”

“A few months is a long time to not know if you like someone or not, (Y/n). It’s obvious you do like him.”

“So what?” He’s starting to annoy you.

“So, you have no real reason not to see him again.” Jimin steps a tiny bit closer to you.

“Okay?”

“What I’m saying is, if you like him then you should continue seeing him.”

“That’s not really your call to make, Jimin.”

“But you’re already practically dating.”

“No we’re not, it’s just casual.” The thought of dating anyone else that isn’t him sends a chill up your spine for some reason.

“So you just casually like each other and have been seeing each other for months?” When he puts it like that it does sound like you should be dating. And your chemistry with Jaebeom is undeniable. But you both decided to take it slow and go at your own pace to see how things turned out. And it just so happens that things took a drastic turn when Jimin returned so of course you wouldn’t know how to feel about him yet. You don’t say any of that though.

“It’s- complicated.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“It’s not for you to understand, it’s not your relationship.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re not throwing away an opportunity here. If you like him, you should keep seeing him. If you didn’t like him that would be different, but I can see how awkward you got when he saw me. You clearly didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, which means you care about what he thinks of you.” He’s completely right and you know it, but it really isn’t his place to say any of this to you. He doesn’t know anything about you and Jaebeom. And why does he care so much in the first place? It’s almost as if he wants you to date Jaebeom instead of him. You can’t, for the life of you, figure out why he would want that though and it hurts to think that he isn’t planning on being in your life in the way you want him to be. Your sadness then turns to anger.

“Can you please just drop it?!” You hate to raise your voice at him but he’s pissing you off. “It’s actually making me uncomfortable to talk about this with you. And no offense to you but I didn’t ask for relationship advice.” You say this as neutrally as possible and Jimin knows you truly didn’t mean it in a hurtful way. But somehow it seems to hurt worse when you say it like that. He drops the subject immediately.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to… sorry I overstepped.” He looks down at his feet when you turn to look at him. He can hear you take a deep breath. “I should probably go soon, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You could at least stay for breakfast.” You offer quietly, trying to show him that there were no hard feelings after your mini argument. Of course, you expect him to reject your offer now that you’ve told him he made you feel uncomfortable. You prepare yourself to say goodbye to him earlier than you’d like. But surprisingly, he agrees to stay, possibly because it’s a free meal and he’s excited to eat your cooking, though you warn him that you’re no master chef. 

He helps you cook a simple breakfast then you both sit at your small dining table in silence. It feels so domestic and familiar eating with him like this in your own home. What makes it feel even more like your old relationship is how you two can have a disagreement then turn around and go back to normal like nothing happened. Eating with him now reminds you of your last dinner together, when you cooked together and sat across from one another at this very same table, discussing his work trip and you trying to convince him not to go. The air was tense back then, all of your stress bubbling to the surface as he did his best to ease your nerves. You’d raised your voice at him then too, accusing him of invalidating your emotions and not taking you seriously, but he remained calm and tried to listen to you more actively, hearing you out genuinely and even expressing that you were starting to make him nervous with how serious you were. But ultimately, his response was that he couldn’t skip this work trip just based on your bad feeling alone since his boss already had it out for him and would almost certainly fire him if he skipped out. None of his coworkers were available to go on the trip so it would damage the company’s reputation if they didn’t send someone out to the conference. He explained all of this to you and you shook your head with every word he said, pointing out that his job wouldn’t matter if he’s too dead to attend the conference. You remember him sighing, thinking hard, but concluding that he simply couldn’t miss it. In hindsight you were absolutely right, and a cloud forms over your head when you think of this.

Noticing your unexplained change of mood, Jimin clears his throat and speaks. “Jungkook mentioned you the other day.” You look up from your plate.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He said you didn’t keep in contact after I disappeared.” Biting your lip, you look back down, pressing your lips into a line. 

“I didn’t keep in touch with anyone after you disappeared.” You mumble, picking at your food. Another minute passes.

“You went through a tough time after losing me, didn’t you?” Jimin’s eyes meet yours and there you find sincerity, sympathy, and a tad bit of guilt. Shocked by his sudden statement, flashes of those three long years play back in your mind, almost sending you into a spiral. Looking away, you try to force your eyes not to get glassy. It takes you a while to find your voice.

“It was… hard. Really hard.” Is all you can say. The low that you hit after losing Jimin was something that you never thought you’d come out of alive. But you made it anyway, so you try not to think about the worst of it. “It took a lot of work for me to get to where I am now. Or at least to where you found me when you first came home. Which, admittedly, still wasn’t a great place. You would not have wanted to see me back then.”

Your eyes tell a story of a million words and he can see the pain still fresh in them even as you lower your head. He nods in understanding, taking a shaky deep breath before addressing you again, something changing in his face. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this before, but I’m so sorry you had to go through that. And I’m so so proud of you that you made it through.” His hand reaches across the table to find yours and this time a tear rolls down your cheek before you can catch it. You use your shoulder to wipe it, apologizing for getting so emotional. 

“No, no one has ever said that to me before. Thank you, Jimin.” You muster a smile, tightening your hand in his.

This is the kind of intimate moment that you missed having with him. He’s always been amazing at giving reassurance and encouragement, at telling people how he feels regardless of the reaction it gets from them. Sometimes it sparks arguments like the one you just had. Other times they can be really touching. He’s always had a way with words and you don’t think you’ll get to have moments like this with anyone else but him. Jaebeom at least has never said anything like this to you. He did show sympathy when you told him about Jimin initially, but it wasn’t the same. Could you be with someone who wasn’t like this when you needed them to be? Could you be with someone who isn’t Jimin?

After the moment passes, Jimin lets go of your hand in favor of picking up his utensil to continue eating as if he hadn’t just said the most impactful thing you’ve heard in a long while. You blink away the rest of your tears and stuff another mouthful of food in you cheeks, hoping it will make the lump in your throat go away. 

You found processing the events of last week to be challenging. You went through a rollercoaster of emotions from the moment Jaebeom appeared on your doorstep and now you have to deal with the aftermath of it. Jaebeom apparently took you having Jimin over as a sign to try even harder to win you over, and it has been an interesting few days to say the least. 

You currently have an audit at work and your boss has been working you to the bone to make sure everything is perfect, so you haven’t had much time to do anything but eat, sleep, and work. Again, you are struck by a mix of emotions because you feel relieved that you have a real excuse not to see Jaebeom, but at the same time you feel guilty and anxious about not having time to see or talk to Jimin. Jimin has been acting strangely ever since your encounter with the other man. You found out that his old friend Namjoon helped him get a corporate job that he seemed excited about (which you find funny because he always used to say that he never wanted to work in corporate), so he’s been just as busy as you settling into his new job. But that doesn’t excuse him from not responding to your texts and being standoffish when he does respond. He seemed fine when he left your home last week, but after that he’s been… odd. You get the feeling that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore and you have no idea why. Maybe he took offense to something you said during your argument. The line about not asking him for relationship advice was pretty harsh and Jimin is a sensitive guy so that could be it. But then again, why didn’t he show that he was hurt while he was at your place? Why would he wait an entire week to be upset? You just can’t seem to wrap your head around it and it’s been driving you nuts.

Speaking of driving you nuts, Jaebeom has been the exact opposite of Jimin. He’s been more interactive with you than ever, sending you good morning and good night texts, checking in with you throughout the day, offering you a space to vent after you told him you’ve been stressed (though you haven’t taken him up on his offer because you really shouldn’t be talking to him anymore in the first place), and writing you cute little paragraphs to encourage you with your audit even when you don’t respond. He really would be the perfect boyfriend, but all his efforts do is annoy you at this point.  Everything that he does to win you over is a mirror image of the things Jimin used to do when you were together, so even when he is right in front of you, all you can think about is Jimin and how badly you want to be with him instead of with this other man. The longer you’re away from Jimin, the lonelier you feel, and you think you’ve spent enough time without the man that you love. Jaebeom is nice and all, but he’s just not the one that can fill the void in your heart, no matter how hard he tries. Not when Jimin is still around. It’ll be a tough pill to swallow for him, but you’ve decided you’ve dragged this out long enough. Plus, your level of irritation grows with every romantic gesture he attempts.

When you walked into work this morning there was a bouquet of flowers on your desk along with a teddy bear— flashy and oh-so-embarrassing. All of your coworkers (the sons of bitches) were crowded around you as you opened the card attached to see who they were from, and instead of your heart soaring from the gesture, it sank. The flowers were from Jaebeom, of course, and they also contained a short message that read:

“I tried to find flowers as beautiful as you, but it was impossible so I just got you your favorite. See you tonight at 6pm, your place ;)”

What. The. Hell.

First of all, he doesn’t know if you’re even available tonight so he’s got some nerve planning a spontaneous date like this. Second, nearly everyone in your office has now seen his invitation and are gushing over how you have a hot date, asking you a million questions about who this person is and how you got so lucky. They’re all assuming that this is your new boyfriend after getting over Jimin and you’re too embarrassed to correct them, silently moving the flowers and bear aside to start your tasks for the day. At the end of the day you give the stuffed bear to the wide eyed intern and leave the flowers in the break room to wilt in the dark.

Six o’clock sharp rolls around and you get a knock at your door.

You’re still dressed in work clothes, bags under your eyes from working an overtime shift, and no patience to deal with the man at your front door. You’re going to have to break the news tonight before this goes any farther; he doesn’t deserve to be strung along. 

“Good evening, madam!” Jaebeom greets, presenting you with a basket as soon as the door is opened all the way, filled with candies and snacks. Immediately you’re hit with flashes of memories of Jimin doing this exact thing, showing up at your old home before you moved in together with a basket of your favorite goodies “just because” and showering you with love and affection after you told him about the shitty day you’d had. You’re forced to blink the memories away and you’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to tell this other man that he’s wasted his time and money on you because you just simply cannot get over your past. 

He seems to get embarrassed by your silence, lowering the basket when it becomes apparent that you have no intention of taking it. The air around you becomes awkward but he shakes it off, still sporting that handsome grin. He really is good looking, and if Jimin didn’t exist you would have been dating him by now. In another universe you probably never meet Jimin. Never get to fall in love with him or get to know what an amazing person he is. In another universe Jaebeom probably doesn’t meet you when you’re at your lowest, broken almost beyond repair and he doesn’t have to work so hard to get you to like him. He probably does all of the things he’s doing in this timeline and you crumble into his arms at every gesture, at every text, at every smile. In another life you end up with Jaebeom and you live happily ever after. But in this timeline, in this life, you don’t want him the way that he wants you. You long for someone who you thought was out of reach, but has returned to you once again out of thin air like magic. They say if you love something you have to let it go, and if it comes back it’s meant to be. Well, you let Jimin go once, albeit unwillingly, and he came back from the dead to be with you again. You’d be wrong not to take the opportunity to get him back, even if that means losing the man that’s standing right in front of you. Ready and willing to give his heart away to you if you’d only have him. You can’t have them both so you have to break someone’s heart to have what you really want. That thought makes you a bit sad and you try not to show it on your face, steeling yourself for what you have to say.

“I’m kinda surprised you actually showed up.” Is the first thing you say to him, wiping your hands on your pants.

“Of course I showed up, I’m the one that planned the date!” He laughs, but you don’t do the same, only offering him an awkward smile. “How was work?”

“It was fine.” Your answer is curt and he notices immediately that something is off.

“You sure? You seem a little down.” He steps closer, expecting you to move aside and let him into your home, and when you don’t move his eyebrows lift in surprise. “May I come in?” He tries, starting to get nervous. Well that makes two of you.

“Um, sure. But I- can we talk?” You’re stuttering now and you clear your throat to get the nerves out of your shaky voice. He nods solemnly like you’re about to tell him that someone died, dread filling your gut as you try to prepare your words to make this go as smoothly as possible. Finally, you move aside to let him into your home, and he hesitates for a moment before stepping inside.

Jimin has been thinking of you all week. Thinking about all of the things he’s learned about you over the past few months and feeling that ache in his heart from missing you. He’s been a bit cold to you recently because he felt like he was in the wrong for pursuing you since you had already been seeing someone, and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that if you truly want to be with that other person. He’s also been distancing himself because of the heavy guilt that he’s been feeling after grasping how tough losing him was for you. He knows it wasn’t his fault but deep down he feels like it was. He’s the reason you struggled during those 3 years, and even though he doesn’t know all of the details, he can sense that you are still struggling in some way. His biggest fear is hurting you and he’d rather lose you than hurt you so deeply again.

So why is your place the first place he thought to drive to after getting his drivers license today? He’s got his GPS out and is turning the corner onto your street with no real goal in mind, simply wanting you to be the first to know that he passed. And also because he missed seeing your face. Of course he feels terrible for being so stand-offish to you too and wants to apologize in person. He just can’t sort out his emotions between you seeing Jaebeom, him being the reason for your poor mental health, and his heart wanting him to just confess his feelings to you, everything is all jumbled up. But seeing you tonight might clear some things up for him and he knows that once he sees you he’ll make up his mind on how to proceed.

Pulling up to your house, he can see a car that isn’t yours in the driveway. He’s seen it before, recently, and it doesn’t click whose car it is until he sees the man standing outside your door. There Jaebeom stands, basket in hand, dressed nicely like he’s going on a date. And you are in the doorway talking to him, dressed in a lovely pants suit with your hair pinned up, stepping aside to let him into your home. As Jimin gets closer he sees Jaebeom nod, then take a step forward to enter your home and his heart sinks. Again he feels like he’s intruding on something and his face gets hot in embarrassment. Of course you’re going to continue seeing Jaebeom, you never said you would stop seeing him even though you denied that you were dating. And he’s the one that was encouraging you to continue seeing him in the first place, so there’s no real reason for him to be upset. Except he is upset. But more than that, he’s disappointed. It hurts more than he thought it would to see you with someone else, and it feels like his world is crumbling apart at the thought that you might end up with this man instead of him. 

He continues driving past your house with stinging eyes, feeling silly for feeling the way he does. Like he said, you shouldn’t throw away the opportunity to be with someone you like just because of him, and part of him still feels that way, but the bigger part of him wishes you would ignore his words and still choose him.

Inside your home, Jaebeom sits awkwardly on your couch playing with his fingers as you take your time locking your front door and trudging over to him. You sit next to him, turning your body slightly towards his and it is a lot like the last time you had him over, except the air is much more tense. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” He asks, though he probably has an idea of what you’re going to say. Swallowing hard, you wrack your brain for the right words to say.

“I don’t really know how to say this so I’ll just cut to the chase. Jaebeom,” you start, talking with measured words. “Getting to know you over these last few months was truly a pleasure. You’re smart, handsome, funny, and all around one of the most patient people I’ve ever met, and I am really attracted to you, truly. But-“

“You’re still in love with him?” He cuts you off with a quiet voice, a whisper so quiet you almost don’t hear it. 

You pause with a frown, nodding slowly, and he lowers his head. Your voice takes on a deeper tone, soft and almost as heartbroken as his. “I know how much effort you put into trying to make me happy. When we met, I was a shell of who I used to be and you were one of the main people that stayed patient with me and helped bring me back to life. Even though you never saw who I was before… everything that happened… you still had faith that I was more than that lifeless lump of flesh that couldn’t even muster a smile at the nice gentleman who offered to pay for all of my groceries when I forgot my wallet at home.” You half laugh at the thought, recounting how Jaebeom had been in front of you in line at the store, packing away his things into his cart when he overheard you talking with the cashier about how you had left your wallet and would have to abandon the small cart of items you needed. You didn’t have much, only about 10 items, and Jaebeom graciously walked over and paid for them after hearing the sadness in your voice. You thanked him profusely without making eye contact and he admitted that he found it cute, finally causing you to look up at him. His smile was almost blinding and it only caused your heart to ache as you remembered another blinding smile that you thought you’d never see again. He asked for your number when you asked how you could repay him, and selfishly you gave it to him, knowing it was only because his smile reminded you of Jimin, and even now you feel guilty about it because you’ve roped him into more than he bargained for just because you were looking for a replacement to pull you out of your grief. You feel like a terrible person. And maybe you are. “And even now, you continue to bring me gifts and wear your heart on your sleeve for me even knowing there was a possibility that Jimin coming back might change things between us.” You gesture at the basket of goodies sitting on your coffee table. “You plan spontaneous dates and send flowers to my job and show up to my house all dressed up— you do all of this for someone that you aren’t even sure likes you the same way, and that just tells me that you are so, so genuine and thoughtful, and it’s crushing me that I can’t reciprocate. I do like you, it’s just that my heart is pulling me in a different direction. And it is totally not fair to you that you did all the work to get me back to a place where I can accept love again and you don’t even get to reap the rewards of your labor. But it’s also not fair to you to be strung along like some toy. I’m so sorry that I wasted your time, you deserve so much better than me.”

Looking down, you end your monologue and wait for his reaction, a little scared of how he’ll respond. Jaebeom doesn’t seem like the type to lash out, but with all that you’ve just said who knows what his response will be. What you don’t expect is to feel his hand gently on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You look up to find him giving you a sad smile, not an ounce of malice in his gaze as he looks at you.

“Why do you look so sad, beautiful? It’s not your heart that’s being broken.” He gives you a half smile and you nearly burst into tears, feeling so yucky for rejecting this sweet man. He removes his hand from you, running it from his forehead to the back of his head with a sigh. “I kinda knew this was coming, you’ve been dodging me for weeks.” Your face goes pale and he laughs. “Yeah, I noticed, but don’t feel too bad. This is a hard conversation to have so I don’t blame you for putting it off.” Your wide eyes cause him to grin, lifting his head to look at the ceiling. “I wasn’t sending you flowers and bringing you gifts solely to win you over. Partly, it was because I love seeing you smile and I hoped it would brighten your day at least a little. You always seem so conflicted when we see each other. Like you’re battling with yourself in your head about something no one else would understand. First it was with grief, now it’s love, but it seems like two sides to the same coin to me. I understand that it’s probably so hard on you to be between the idea of moving on from your past and going back to what you know, and I commend you for actually coming to a decision about it. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t know what to do and I would probably keep both options in limbo for much longer than you did. But, man, it really sucks being on the losing side.” He sighs.

“I’m sorry.” You find yourself apologizing before you can stop yourself.

“Don’t apologize, you had to choose someone. But just know, I don’t regret anything that I did within these past months. I don’t regret meeting you or getting to know you. Or being a part of this love triangle and trying to win you over. Though I have to say, it wasn’t a fair competition.”

“What do you mean by that?” Your eyebrows knit in an adorable way and he has to look away from you before he can let his heart flutter.

“I mean, how could I possibly compete with someone who brightens your life that much? Ever since you told me he came back you’ve been so much happier. I can see it in your entire demeanor, with how you carry yourself now, with how your eyes look lively and free. I was only able to bring out glimpses of that in you, but- Jimin, was it?- he is able to change your entire world. So how could I be upset when in the end you’ll get to be yourself again after all these years and live happily ever after? I only want the best for you, and if you are your best self with somebody else, then who am I to get in the way of that?”

Feeling your eyes well up with tears, you close them and take a shaky breath. Jaebeom is just too good to be true. You never thought you’d be the one brought to tears in this situation, but here you are, crying at the heartfelt words of the man you didn’t choose. You tell yourself that that other version of you in another universe is happy with him. Running into his arms and accepting his love instead of crushing it under the heel of her foot like you are right now. That picture of the other version of him stays with you as well, hugging you and pouring all of his love and adoration onto you instead of swallowing it down like he’s doing now, putting on a brave face to save your feelings even when you’re trampling all over his. 

Opening your eyes, you spread your arms to ask silently for a hug, and he scoots closer to accept. Nuzzling your face in his shoulder, you let a few tears slip free. The hug you share communicates all of your remaining emotions that you don’t have the words for, and you hope he hears them loud and clear. The way he squeezes you tells you he does, and it’s a long minute before you’re pulling away, wiping your eyes with a smile and observing how his are now glassy too. 

“So this is it, huh?” He asks, looking at you longingly.

“Yeah.” You frown.

“I… guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” You choke out.

He sits there for a second longer, staring at you as if committing your face to memory, before getting up from your couch and heading to the door. You don’t follow him and he lets himself out, leaving you staring into space with a heavy heart, listening to the sounds of his footsteps getting farther away until you hear his car door shut, the engine turn on, and the sound of his wheels leaving your driveway. 

The ache in Jimin’s heart grows every day that he doesn’t talk to you. It wouldn’t be too far off to say that he’s pouting by not texting you back, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to reply after what he saw that night. Plus, he’s been caught up with his new job and things have been hectic as he looks for a place to move out of his parent’s house to. No, that’s an excuse. The reality is that he has all the time in the world when he’s not at work, and he has chosen to use that time to sulk about not being with you instead of trying to continue your friendship or even ask you for answers. But even if he were to ask you for answers, he’s almost positive that he won’t like the answer to the question “why did you invite Jaebeom into your house that night?” You would probably only break his heart more by saying that you decided to be with Jaebeom instead and that you were inviting him in to make sweet love in his absence. That thought makes him frown deeply, a pit of jealousy forming in his gut. 

But that’s what he wanted, right? You should have the chance to move on with someone else after the pain you’ve endured. You should be with someone that makes you happy and if that person is Jaebeom then he has no right to speak against it.

Blazing white shines through his window and angles right into his already open eyes, no need for an alarm as he’s already been awake all night. One cup of coffee, black, and a bowl of his favorite cereal. His mother is in the living room crocheting as he walks past to use the restroom, watching him as he drags his feet with eyes half open. A fleeting thought of you crosses his mind, of how you told him you used to find it so funny that his eyes barely open in the morning when he’s still sleepy and how you found it so endearing how clingy and cuddly he used to get. He’s still like this, craving the warmth of your body this morning, but you’re not here to supply him with cuddles or love and affection because you’re giving it to another man. His mother watches as he nearly runs into the doorframe of the bathroom on his way out, still locked in his heartbreaking daydream of you snuggled up with that handsome stranger.

“Jimin-ah,” his mom calls, concerned by how disoriented and sad her son looks. “When is the last time you left the house, honey?” 

“Hm? I leave every day to go to work…” he replies back quietly.

“That doesn’t count. When is the last time you left the house for something that wasn’t work?”

Since he saw you at your house about 5 days ago. She already knows the answer so he doesn’t have to say this out loud, and she forces him to call up Taehyung and Jungkook to spend some time with them to raise his spirits. And hopefully they can talk some sense into him.

Jimin sits uncomfortably at the table as his two best friends stare back at him with blank looks of disbelief, looking at him as if he were stupid after he explains what he saw that night. The boba shop buzzes with people on this busy weekend afternoon, somehow making their silence that much more unsettling.

“What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?” He whines after an excruciating minute passes without them saying anything. He can’t read either of their thoughts from their expressions and it’s making him nervous. 

“I’m so sorry to say this, but that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Jungkook states, shaking his head in dismay at his friend’s stupidity. “So you just assumed they were going on a date and drove off without confirming?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Go knock on her door and ask her “hey are you going on a date with him right now?” just for her to laugh and say ‘yes’ and slam the door in my face?”

“Could it be possible that she didn’t set up the date and he was just coming over to surprise her? You know, since he’s kinda competing with you to earn her affections?” Tae asks, trying to wrap his head around Jimin’s thought process.

“I mean, that could have been what was happening, but I think it’s much more likely that he came over to go on a date with her.” Jimin pouts, taking a sip of his boba drink. 

“Okay, say that was what happened and they were going out on a date. That doesn’t mean that she’s made a decision to date him instead of you. Wasn’t (Y/n) going out on dates with this Jaebeom character at the same time that she was seeing you?” Jungkook tries to reason, earning a frown from Jimin.

“Yes, but this just felt different. It looked like there was some tension between them when he was walking into her house, like something was about to happen between them.”

“I mean, tension isn’t always sexual, she could have been about to break his heart and tell him she doesn’t want to see him anymore. Were they smiling or was the vibe serious?” Taehyung swirls the liquid in his cup, watching as the tapioca pearls spin around the bottom, seeming half uninterested in the conversation.

“It was more serious, but I don’t really know because I didn’t get a clear look at their faces.” Jimin admits, trying to think back to what you looked like. He definitely doesn’t remember you smiling or anything though.

“Then there’s a possibility that I’m right and she was inviting him in to have the breakup talk with him. Well, it isn’t really a break up if they weren’t actually together.” Jimin doesn’t say anything to this so Taehyung continues. “The way I see it is, it doesn’t really matter what they were doing or talking about that night, what matters is your response to it. Are you just going to roll over and let this other guy steal your girl from you when she’s clearly still into you?”

“Tae’s right, are you really going to just let him have her?” Jungkook adds, both of them looking at Jimin expectantly. He lets out a deep sigh, looking sadder than ever. 

“The thing is, she’s not my girl, I don’t own her and she doesn’t owe me anything. I can’t just treat her like I’m entitled to her heart when she clearly has feelings for someone other than me.”

At this, both men laugh, causing Jimin to look up at them, confused. “Yeah right, tell that to her.” Jungkook says through a snicker, taking a sip of his boba.

“Huh?”

“Dude, the way you’ve got her heart in shackles is ridiculous. I’m not sure if she even knows you don’t literally own her, I haven’t seen her even glance at another man since she met you.” Taehyung laughs.

Jungkook nearly bounces with excitement as he recalls something from the depths of his memory, nudging Taehyung with his elbow. “Hyung! Remember in high school when that guy from her class confessed to her in front of all 3 of us and she told him she had “feelings for someone else” while making direct eye contact with Jimin?” 

“Yes! And she didn’t even know his name! She called him “Daehyun” when his name was Doyoung.” Taehyung laughs uproariously, slapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Man, we teased her about that for years after you two finally got together,” He addresses Jimin, who looks lost as usual. But he’s gotten used to being the odd man out when people reminisce, simply wanting to know more about the story, especially if it involves him. “And just like you are now, you were completely clueless to how she felt.”

“I don’t know how you didn’t catch on after that, she was literally staring you down when she said it. I could almost see the cartoon arrow sign above her head pointing at you saying “it’s YOU, Jimin, I have feelings for YOU”. I still can’t believe it took you almost 2 months after that to ask her out.” Jungkook sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah, because he was “unsure” if she liked him back.” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes as Jimin looks between the both of them.

“How can you be unsure if someone like (Y/n) likes you back? She’s not the most subtle, at least not when it comes to you.” Jungkook is right. You have never been able to hide your expressions around Jimin, or stop yourself from getting shy, or stop the word vomit that comes with being nervous and oversharing things about yourself because you don’t want Jimin to misunderstand anything when it comes to you. Jimin has seen the word vomit first hand, when you were trying to explain Jaebeom’s relationship to you, desperately trying to get him to understand just how insignificant Jaebeom is to you. 

“Thanks for bringing that up, Kookie, I’m now 100% convinced that (Y/n) doesn’t even know that other men exist. She’s only ever had eyes for you, Jimin.” Sounding completely certain, Taehyung leans back in his seat as if to say that that’s the end of the conversation. But that nagging voice in the back of Jimin’s head reminds him of how nervous you looked when Jaebeom came to your door that day and saw him standing there. And how stiff you got when he started questioning you about Jaebeom.

“But she clearly does know other men exist, she’s been dating one for months.” Jimin says quietly, crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. “Things have changed since high school. Both of us have changed so it’s not impossible to think that she grew to have feelings for someone else.”

“Even if she does have feelings for this guy, her feelings for you obviously outweigh her feelings for him. I’m not sure how you don’t see that.” Jungkook is starting to get irritated with the back and forth resistance that Jimin keeps giving them. Why is it so damn hard to get him to see that you want him and only him? “Wasn’t she the one who kept saying that the two of them weren’t dating when you were asking her about it? That doesn’t sound like someone who wants the other man.”

“Right. Plus, she waited a whole 3 years before even attempting to date. She wouldn’t even think about breathing in another man’s direction after your disappearance because she didn’t want to be disrespectful to you and also because she still had such deep feelings for you that it was sickening to even think about anyone else. You think those feelings just disappeared overnight because some other guy came into the picture?” Tae tries to reason, but it only makes Jimin feel worse. He’s already held you back so much, he’d hate to be the reason you give up on finding love elsewhere. 

“I- I don’t know.” Jimin buries his face him his arms, a headache forming behind his eyes at the rushing thoughts running through his mind. He’s torn, and even though his friends tell him otherwise, he can’t help thinking that your feelings reside with someone else. He’s frustrated with himself that he just can’t accept that you want to be with him, and he doesn’t know how to convince himself that it’s true.

“Well, we’ve said all we can say to convince you. Now it’s up to you to decide whether or not you’ll pursue her.” Jungkook concludes, finishing the rest of his drink and using his straw to suck up the remaining pearls at the bottom of his cup, nearly choking as one flies up the straw and down his throat.

“But just know,” Taehyung starts, patting Jungkook on the back as he coughs, “if push comes to shove, we’ll be on (Y/n)’s side so you better not fuck up.” His ominous warning sends a chill up Jimin’s spine as Jungkook nods in agreement. He sounds like a protective older brother threatening his little sister’s boyfriend, and there’s a flash of familiarity in the feeling it gives him. As if Taehyung has said or expressed the same sentiment to him before. He wants to ask if he’s said that before, but Jimin is far too intimidated by Taehyung’s deep voice to ask.

Jimin goes home with a lot to think about, both of his friends having made valid points. His room feels empty and large and he cuddles up with a pillow to try to replace the warmth that he craves from you, thinking about how he could have you all to himself if it wasn’t for Jaebeom. He picks up his phone and begins typing, wanting to let you know that he didn’t mean to ghost you, that he’s been missing you like crazy, and that he wants to see you soon if you’ll let him. But he ends up deleting his message when he thinks back to your face, how you’ll probably be upset with him for reaching out to you after all this time. Or maybe you’ll be nervous and hesitant to reply because you don’t know how to tell him that you’ve chosen Jaebeom instead and only want to be friends moving forward. Or worse, you’ll leave him on read just as he’s done to you and block him and he’ll never get the chance to talk to you again because you no longer want him in your life and he has to respect that. Jimin is spiraling, the bad thoughts mixing with the good: your beautiful smiling face followed by thoughts of you kissing Jaebeom, the feeling of your warm hands cradling his face like you did the first time he saw you, followed by his name being blocked in your phone. He starts to feel a bit nauseous and stands up from his bed, dragging his feet on the way to the shower where no one can see the tears that begin to drip from his eyes as he runs hot water over his face. 

It’s the next day and you wake from a dreamless sleep, not feeling rested at all. In fact, you haven’t gotten a good nights sleep since Jimin stopped responding to you almost a week ago. You’ve always known Jimin to be a stubborn one, but this is just too much. It has been far too long without hearing from him and you’re starting to get nervous. Did you do something to make him angry? You’ve barely spoken to him in the past 2 weeks, with him not even bothering to reply beginning about 6 days ago, so you doubt you’ve done anything wrong. Has he simply given up on you? You sure hope not. Jimin is a lover, not a fighter, you know this, but you desperately hope he hasn’t been intimidated by Jaebeom to the point that he’d stop chasing after you. But maybe that’s exactly what happened. He told you he wanted you to move on, to find happiness with the opportunity right in front of you, but you had no idea he would completely take himself out of the running by ghosting you. Just the thought of him doing that pisses you off and you are 5 seconds away from calling him up to ask for an explanation before another thought pops into your mind. 

Taehyung has always been on your side with these types of things. In the past, when Jimin would do something to piss you off or if he was being unreasonable, it was always Taehyung who played the middle man and talked some sense into him. Maybe that’s what he needs to do now.

You: Hey, I need your help with something

Taeddy Bear 🧸: If this is about Jimin then I’m in

You: …You don’t even know what I’m going to ask

Taeddy Bear 🧸: I’d even be down if you said you wanted to murder him for ghosting you

Taeddy Bear 🧸: Cuz honestly? Same

Taeddy Bear 🧸: What is it?

You: So he told you he’s been ghosting me?

Taeddy Bear 🧸: Basically

Taeddy Bear 🧸: He seems torn between talking to you and giving you space

You: Space? Why the hell would I need space???

You: We didn’t have an argument or anything

Taeddy Bear 🧸: 🤷🏻 but it seems like he convinced himself that you’ve chosen the other guy over him

You: No??? Why would he think that?

Taeddy Bear 🧸: He saw him at your house last week and assumed you were going out with him

You: 😐

Taeddy Bear 🧸: Hey don’t shoot the messenger

You: I literally told Jaebeom I don’t want to talk to him anymore that night! All he had to do was wait a day 🙄

Taeddy Bear 🧸: I tried to tell him! He was convinced that something spicy was happening between you two

You: Spicy how 🤨

Taeddy Bear 🧸: He thought you were *inviting him in*😏

Taeddy Bear 🧸: Not inviting him in to talk

You: 🤦 God he’s such an idiot 😭😭

Taeddy Bear 🧸: Yeahhh but you love him

You: I do 😫😭

Taeddy Bear 🧸: So we have to do something about this!!

Taeddy Bear 🧸: What do you need me to do?

Just as you thought, Taehyung is as helpful as ever in devising a plan for you to confront Jimin. You both agreed that if you told him to just meet you that he’d either say no, or say yes and be extremely anxious about it to the point where he’d almost be in tears from stress, so you decided to surprise him with your presence at a neutral place.

The doorbell rings at Taehyung’s place, the weekend finally here again and the boys lounging around together. Taehyung’s ears perk up at the sound like a dog, struggling to hide his mischievous grin as he knows exactly who is at the door. 

“Jimin-ah, can you get that?” He asks politely, motioning for Jungkook to sit when the younger man begins to stand. The muscle bunny looks confused, but Taehyung gives him a look that says he’ll explain later.

“Why can’t you get it? It’s your house.” Jimin yawns, not loving the idea of getting up from his comfortable position. His eyes are fixated on the tv screen and he whines when Tae hits pause and the action stops.

“You’re closest to the door.” Tae bickers back, throwing a piece of candy at his best friend. The doorbell rings again and this time Jimin shifts to get up, groaning like an old man as his knees crack when he stands.

“Fiiiiine.” He sighs, dragging his feet to the door, unsure of what to expect on the other side. Maybe there’s another one of Taehyung’s friends coming over that he has yet to meet. Or maybe it’s a package or food delivery. Whatever Jimin is thinking, he sure doesn’t expect to see you on the other side of the door, standing there picking at your fingers nervously, glancing up at him with almost as shocked an expression as him.

“O-oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to open the door.” You stutter out, having expected to have a little more time to prepare before seeing him. His face goes pale at the sight of you and he takes a step backwards. His heart jumps because all he’s wanted to do for the past few days was see your face, but now that you’re here he doesn’t know what to say. Was this a set up? He looks behind him in the direction of his friends, though he can’t see them from the doorway, and silently curses them in his head. “Can we talk? Please?” 

He takes a deep breath, the consequences of his own actions and cowardice looking him right in the face with those beautiful eyes, so deep and genuine that he has no choice but to agree. “Sure. But let’s go in the back.” He suggests, not wanting any of Taehyung’s nosy neighbors to intrude on your conversation. The sound of his voice sends a shiver through you and you hide it with a nod. He moves aside to let you into his friend’s home, cutting his eye at the two men as they wave at you on your way to the back door, giving Jimin a thumbs up when you look away. 

The thought of having to talk to you makes his stomach twist because he has absolutely no idea what to say to you. You don’t even know the reason why he stopped responding, and knowing you, you’re probably thinking you did something wrong to deserve this treatment from him, when in reality, it’s his own cowardice that’s kept him from seeking the truth. But at the same time, he doesn’t think he’s prepared to hear what the truth is. He knows how shattered you are without him, but he has no idea just how shattered he’d be if he found out for certain that you won’t be his. 

He swallows hard when the back door finally shuts behind you, the two of you alone and staring at each other, almost daring the other to speak. He decides to take the lead when he sees that your lips remain in a fine line, swirling thoughts not coherent enough to speak yet despite you having practiced what you were going to say all night.

“I’m assuming you and Taehyung came up with this brilliant plan to corner me, huh?” He starts, turning his attention to the spider web that rests between the posts of the railing of Taehyung’s small deck. There sits a spider toward the center of the web, swaying in the wind and waiting for its prey to fly into its trap. Dark clouds roll overhead, the threat of a storm brewing.

“I’m not cornering you. You can leave whenever you want.” He makes no motions toward the door so you continue. “I only wanted to have a conversation with you and get some things off my chest, and since you’ve been ghosting me, this is the only way for me to do that.” Your pretty lips form into a small frown and all Jimin can think about is the way they look stretched into a smile. He’s the reason you aren’t smiling now, and he feels absolutely terrible about it, a knot forming in his stomach at the guilt he feels for not contacting you. “So, why the hell have you been ghosting me?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard it from Taehyung already…” he mumbles, looking away from you again. 

“Yeah, but I want to hear it from you.” You respond immediately, not letting up.

He takes a deep inhale, letting it out slowly as he thinks of what he saw at your place and all of the terrible nightmares he’s been having of you with Jaebeom and him ruining your happiness with him. “I… saw Jaebeom at your place last week. I know you’ve been seeing him for a while and that you like him so it’s only natural that you’d still be going on dates and inviting him in. It just felt like I was being a home wrecker by interjecting myself into your life while you were already seeing someone, and seeing you invite him into your house made me feel like I was intruding on your relationship. I mean, you guys would be practically dating at this point if it wasn’t for me showing up out of nowhere, so I decided it would be best for me to take myself out of the equation and let you be happy with him.”

“So you made the decision all by yourself to walk away based on an assumption that I had chosen him?” When you put it like that it sounds like he made a bad call. He nods regardless. “Why do you even think I chose him in the first place? Because he was at my house?”

“Because he was dressed up like you were about to go on a date, bringing you gifts and you were inviting him into your house. It didn’t seem like you were rejecting him.”

“So you decided to ghost me after seeing 5 seconds of an interaction with no context?” Your voice raises in volume just slightly, starting to get pissed off.

“What else did I need to see? Did you want me to sit outside your window and watch you have sex with him to determine if you were still seeing him or not?” He snaps back, looking irritated himself. He ignores the way your face contorts. “Listen, it’s fine if you want to be with him, just tell me. I was wrong for ghosting you, and I’m sorry, but I thought it would be easier for you if you didn’t have to decide between the two of us. I have feelings for you but I don’t want you to throw away your relationship with him because of me.”

“What relationship?!” Just listening to him say so many incorrect things at once is making your blood pressure go up. “Jimin, I invited him inside to reject him. I told him that I didn’t want to see him anymore and that I had chosen you!”

At this he blinks, taking in the meaning of your words. You think he’s going to have an epiphany moment where he realizes just how dumb he was acting and apologize to you for assuming incorrectly, but instead he seems to get angry, which perplexes you.

“You broke up with him for me? But he’s literally the perfect man. You deserve the world and he looks like he could give it to you. Why would you throw away that for me?”

“I did not “break up” with him— for the millionth time— we were never together! And Jaebeom is a great guy and all but he is not the perfect man. You know how I know that? Because you are the perfect man. You are the perfect man for me.” You take a step closer to him, trying to get through to him. He’s always been like this, doubtful of himself and his worth. 

“How can you say that so confidently? I’m not the exact same person I was when we were together, (Y/n). I can’t remember any of the time we spent together before the accident so our relationship wouldn’t be the same if you do go back to me. You barely even know me anymore.” He looks down at his feet, feeling so insecure that he almost wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you would choose him, someone with his memory and identity in shambles, over another man who has his life put together and memory intact, who is settled and has a great personality with an equal desire to make you happy. Your eyes squint at him at his last statement as if that was the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard in your life and the look on your face makes him take a step back. You look like you could strangle him for being so stubborn and thinking so lowly of himself.

“I do know you, Jimin! I probably know you better than you know yourself. I know that you like sleeping in on weekends but feel guilty if you sleep past 11am; I know that when you laugh too hard, your eyes shut and you can’t see until you stop laughing; I know that you had a friend in 2nd grade that made fun of you during show and tell and that’s why you don’t like speaking in front of crowds.” He looks at you incredulously, not expecting your word vomit. “I know that you like to drink! You can hold about 4 or 5 shots before you really start feeling it, but you prefer wine or whiskey on most nights. I know that you pride yourself on being meticulous and neat, and that you love when people notice and praise you about it! I know that you cry every time you watch “Inside Out” because Bing Bong was your favorite character.” 

“But that’s all surface level-“

“I know that you’re an overthinker that tends to doubt his self worth when it comes to other people, just like you’re doing now. I know that you haven’t changed from the person who proposed to me and cried his eyes out when I said yes because you had convinced yourself that I would say no. I know you value your friends and family more than anything in the world and would do whatever it takes to see them happy, even at the expense of yourself. I know that you’ve got a thick skull and won’t let anyone tell you otherwise once you’ve got your mind set on something, whether it be for work, relationships, or fun. And if it’s something negative about yourself that you’re struggling with, I know that you need a lot of reassurance to feel comfortable because you hate being an inconvenience to others.”

The entire time you ramble on, you don’t notice his flickering resolve. It both fills and breaks his heart because of how well you know him, and it only confuses him more. He should run from you and let you move on, he was your past and you deserve to step away from him and continue with your future. But at the same time, he hasn’t changed at all and your rant is proving that. Everything you say about him is true, and it shouldn’t be difficult to rebuild what he lost. Maybe he’s just afraid he won’t live up to who you once knew. But everything you say proves that he is still that person, and you still very much know him. 

Dropping your voice, you draw closer. “I know how amazing you are at listening to other people’s problems and offering emotional support, yet you find it hard to express your own feelings verbally sometimes. I know that you think you’re holding me back. And most importantly, I know that we once loved each other with all our hearts, and that I still love you just as much— if not more— than I did before.” Taking a breath, you stare at him, trying to understand what’s going through his head. “The point is, I don’t want you to distance yourself from me. I don’t want a new life with a new person. I don’t even want our old life together because even then we weren’t perfect! I just want you with me; the one that’s standing in front of me right now looking clueless and dumbfounded,” He closes his mouth, embarrassed. “The one that doesn’t remember our past but was willing to follow me around the city making new memories anyway. Who you are right now is more than enough for me. So please, let me choose you. I’ve already made my decision, it’s up to you to accept it.”

Heart in your throat, you wait for him to say something, anything, but he stays silent. The longer the pause the more you worry, wondering what he’s thinking. Scratching his neck, he struggles to find the words, opening and closing his mouth as he fights an internal war. 

“I just- I need some time to think.” He finally speaks up, not meeting your eyes.

“What do you still need to think about? You either want me or you don’t, you accept my confession or not.” When he stays silent again your frustration reaches a fever pitch and you have to remove yourself from him before you say something you don’t mean. “You wanna know what I also know? That you’ve always been oblivious when it comes to me, so I’m just going to say this plainly for you: I love you and I can’t imagine living without you again. I don’t want Jaebeom, I only want you— so you get back to me once you figure out whatever is going through your head. I’ll wait for you, even if I have to wait forever. But I’m really hoping you don’t take forever because I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a little at the end of your sentence and you turn toward the door quickly, opening the sliding glass and making your escape before he can see the tears welling up in your eyes. You leave without saying anything to Taehyung and Jungkook, your scent wafting after you, filled with sorrow and despair. 

Jimin stands there, sucking on his lips and wondering if what he did was the right thing. He takes his time coming back into the house, finding his two best friends staring at him in anticipation. “How did it go?” Jungkook asks, looking back at him with doe eyes.

“Judging by the way she stormed out I’m guessing it didn’t go well.” Taehyung surmises, pausing the tv and turning his full attention to Jimin as he sits back down on the couch with his head in his hands. He explains the conversation/argument he just had with you and waits for his friends to respond.

“Jimin what the hell!” Jungkook is almost in tears for you, face getting hot from the second hand embarrassment he’s getting from the way you put yourself in such a vulnerable position for this imbecile. Jimin blinks at the anger the younger man is displaying on your behalf. “I should hit you for putting her through this.” 

Taehyung does the honors and slaps Jimin on the back of his head, not saying a word. 

“So let me get this straight. You disappear for three years, (Y/n) is miserable. You return and she’s happy. Then you ghost her because you think she’s chosen to be with another man, making both of you miserable. She breaks things off with the guy she was seeing to be with you, giving both of you the chance to be happy again, and you tell her you need to think about it? What else is there to think about, hyung? Do you not want to be with her?”

“It just feels selfish of me to want to get back with her. I’ve hurt her so deeply before by almost dying and I’m just really scared of hurting her again. And what if I’m not good enough for her anymore? What if I can’t love her the way she wants to be loved and I end up disappointing her? I can’t remember all the things I used to do, nor do I know her well enough now to know what she wants. Jaebeom seems like such a good guy and I can see her being happy with him, it only feels right to let her move on from me instead of selfishly trying to keep her for myself.”

“And you don’t think you’re hurting her by doing this?” Taehyung’s voice seems to get deeper as he finally speaks up, trying to control the volume of his voice. “You don’t think it was selfish to make the decision to stop talking to her on your own without consulting her first? I think it’s very arrogant of you to think you know what’s best for her without even considering how she feels.” His harsh words cut deep and cause Jimin’s eyes to sting. Taehyung has never been one to mince his words, unafraid to tell his friends when they are in the wrong. And Jimin can tell that you and both of his friends were— and still are— very close by the way they defend you in your absence.

“I’m with Tae on this one,” Jungkook says when Jimin looks in his direction. “All this time she’s been telling you how much she loves you and how much she missed you and you’re still saying this? She told you point blank that she doesn’t want to be with Jaebeom and that she wants you and you are completely disregarding her feelings by forcing her to be with him. Do you think it’s fair to her to have to lose you all over again? You didn’t see her while you were gone, you don’t know the suffering she went through without you, do you think she deserves to go back to that? (Y/n) is the sweetest, most caring, patient person any of us has ever met and here you are playing with her heart like a toy. She said she would wait for you, but I doubt she’ll wait forever. I wouldn’t if I was her. So you better figure out what you want before she moves on for real. Do you really want to see her with someone else?” Both of Taehyung and Jungkook’s words strike a cord in Jimin’s heart and he thinks about how utterly depressed you’ll be if he decides to leave you again. He thinks back to everything he’s heard from the people around him, how they all said you struggled alone and separated yourself from the world, how you said you had to claw your way up from the depths of hell to become a functioning human again after those 3 long years of misery. He can’t imaging causing you that level of hurt again, and he hadn’t even thought about that when he was spiraling. Plus, he doesn’t think he can stomach the thought of seeing you around town with someone else, hearing about how well you’re doing with another man through your mutual friends. 

“This insecurity about yourself that you’re feeling is completely unjustified. I know she loves you more than anything and I’ve seen you love her before. That’s why I’m confident that you’ll be able to make her happy, whether you remember your past or not.” Taehyung says, sounding more encouraging now after seeing Jimin’s change in demeanor. “Do you want the chance to love her again?”

Jimin swallows, thinking about how badly he’s missed you over the past few weeks and how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms. Despite the fear he holds in his heart about not being able to live up to who you think he is, he still desperately wants you to be his. “Yes.” He chokes out, scared that he’s ruined things by not telling you this a few minutes ago. 

“Then if you have feelings for her the way you say you do, I suggest getting off your ass and chasing after her.” Jungkook concludes, pushing Jimin’s back and forcing him to stand from the couch. “Now!”

The sky is dark as it begins to drizzle. You find yourself jogging from your driveway and fumbling with your keys to get into your home before the sky opens up and starts raining buckets. As soon as you get inside you speed dial your friends, plopping down on your bed with a forearm covering your eyes. The entire ride home you managed to control your emotions by cranking up your music so high you couldn’t think, but now that you’re alone in silence, everything comes bubbling up to the surface.

Joy and Mina both answer your group FaceTime call, having been told about your plan to meet Jimin in person, and they expect you to be squealing in excitement, so when you stay silent on the other end for more than 2 seconds they know something is up. 

“Oh god, what happened?” Mina asks, looking at your ceiling as you place your phone on the bed. “Did he reject you? Because I swear if he did I’ll drive over there and kick his ass myself, just say the word.” Always the fighter, Mina would go to bat for you anytime you needed and you’ve always been thankful for that.

“No, he didn’t reject me.” You mumble, frowning at how weak your voice sounds. When you don’t elaborate, Joy finishes for you.

“But he didn’t necessarily accept your confession either, huh?” There’s empathy in her voice and it causes a cascade of tears to flow down your face, the dam breaking and destroying everything you’ve built. You try to cry as silently as possible, embarrassed for your friends to see you like this for some reason. They’ve seen you worse than this, seen you at your lowest and helped to drag you out of it, but this hurt feels different. You’re not mourning or grieving the loss of anything and you haven’t been flat out rejected so it almost feels like your pain isn’t justified. 

“He said he needed time to think.”

“What is there to think about? He either likes you back or not, it’s simple.” Mina scoffs, balling up her fist behind the camera.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Joy drawls, frowning when you finally pick upon your phone and reveal your tear-stained face. “Do you need us to come over? We can bring alcohol and watch a movie or trashy reality tv until we get sleepy.” She offers, knowing exactly what you like.

“Yeah, I can bring some of that plum sake you liked last time and we can get fucked up and cry our eyes out singing love songs.” You want to crack a smile at the memory of you and Mina singing “Love” by Keisha Cole several years ago when she got her heart broken by a guy she was seeing. They were just friends with benefits and he apparently didn’t see her as anything more than that, so she was left completely shattered when she hinted that she had feelings for him and he broke things off with her shortly thereafter. You spent two days at her place, just the two of you, watching horror movies, ordering food, drinking, and scream singing heartbreak songs until her neighbors came banging on the door for you both to shut up. It made her feel slightly better to have that catharsis, but you aren’t sure that would fix you this time.

“I don’t know… I don’t really feel-“ You are cut off by the sound of your doorbell, followed by a few knocks. At first, you consider not answering it and letting whoever was at the door think that no one was home, but then you remember that your car is out front and it is possible that whoever it is saw you come him. Sighing deeply, you get up and trudge to your door, annoyed when a few more frantic knocks echo throughout your home. Wiping your eyes, you pause before opening the door, mentally preparing yourself to talk to a neighbor or solicitor or even a door-to-door salesperson, but what you don’t expect is to see Jimin standing there in the pouring rain, hair wet and sticking to his forehead, panting as if he was out of breath. You blink at him, instincts telling you to slam the door in his face. Sensing this, he puts his hand on the door beside your head, standing closer than you were prepared for. You stiffen up, but he doesn’t move an inch away from you. Water drips from the ends of his hair and you can’t help but remember the way he looks after a shower, your chest tightening as the visual of him alone is enough to steal your breath away despite your best efforts to be upset with him. 

“Wh-what are you doing here, Jimin?” You manage to stutter out, unable to make eye contact with him when he’s staring at you so intently. You hear a small gasp from your forgotten phone that is now dangling at your side, Joy and Mina sporting surprised looks not unlike yourself.

“Please, just hear me out.”He says, taking in how you glance up at him with innocent eyes, and it is then that he sees how red and puffy they are, sure signs that you had been crying. It breaks his heart and before he can stop himself he’s pulling you into a hug. 

It’s sudden and this is the most physical contact you’ve had with him up to this point, so he isn’t sure how you’ll react, especially after the heated conversation you had not even 30 minutes ago. You don’t say anything, but you haven’t pushed him away and locked him out of your home yet, so he takes that as his sign to continue.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry, I’ve been such an idiot.” He starts, and those words are music to your ears. Because yes, he has been a complete idiot, but you want to hear him say why. His arms drop from you and he takes a step back, hand reaching up to push back his hair. Rain continues to fall on him, soaking his clothes and dripping down his face, but he doesn’t seem to care as he forms his thoughts.

“Go on.” You prompt, letting him know that you’re willing to hear what he has to say. He visibly relaxes at this, genuine eyes meeting yours with an almost pleading stare.

“I know you probably hate me right now for not saying this sooner, and I’m nervous as hell to say it, but I drove all the way over here to tell you this so I’m just going to come out and say it.” He sounds like he’s trying to hype himself up, despite all of your feelings being out in the open for him. You brace yourself for what he’s about to say still, already feeling like crying because Jimin seems so sincere at this moment, reminding you of when he first confessed his feelings for you all those years ago. 

“What is it?” You ask quietly, praying that this is headed in the direction you’re hoping it is. He takes a deep breath.

“(Y/n). It hasn’t been that long since I’ve known you, but it’s been long enough for me to know that I don’t want to lose you. I feel so connected to you in this inexplicable way, like my soul knows you even if my brain doesn’t remember, and it’s made being without you hell. It felt like I was going through withdrawals when I wasn’t talking to you, but I couldn’t bring myself to face you when I thought you had chosen Jaebeom because I was scared you wouldn’t want me in your life anymore, even as a friend. And if we were just friends, I wasn’t sure if I could handle seeing you with someone else all the time, so I decided it would be easier to just let you go without knowing all the facts first or consulting with you to see what you wanted. I was just playing the hero, thinking it was so noble of me to let you go and be with someone else instead of listening to how you felt and letting you actually be happy. And I was ignoring my own heart that was telling me to go after you because I didn’t want to seem selfish by overshadowing your feelings with mine if what you wanted was to be with somebody else.”

The tears welling up in your eyes begin to fall and he reaches up to wipe them, wet thumb grazing your skin in the gentlest way possible that makes your heart do somersaults. 

“But now I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s okay to be selfish sometimes and it’s okay to follow what I want. (Y/n), I know what I want now. I want to fall in love with you. I want the chance to be in love with you again.” A small sob escapes your throat and you cover your mouth with your hand, turning away from him as you are overcome with emotion. His hand slides down to the side of your neck, caressing it gently as you cry. “I can’t imagine my life now without you. You’ve been there ever since I came home; and even when i was being a dick, you checked in on me and asked if i was taking care of myself. I haven’t done anything to earn your love so far, but I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to make you as happy as possible, because that’s what you deserve. I’ll be your knight in shining armor if you need me to be, I’ll be your pillow and shoulder to cry on, and I’ll try my damndest to make sure to never make you cry sad tears because of me again.” You collect yourself enough to turn toward him, eyebrows arched sadly as the unstoppable tears continue to fall. Even though you’re crying, he still thinks you look absolutely stunning, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he doesn’t need his memory to know that. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Both in the past and now. But I promise I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it. So please, will you give me the chance to love you again?” He pleads, trying to read the expression on your face. 

You take your time answering, ingesting his words and feelings as he stands there getting drenched by the wrath of the skies. If you’re trying to sweat him out it’s working because Jimin feels a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach the longer you take to answer. You’re still frowning, wiping your face and sniffing when you finally look back at him, almost looking more upset than before. For a spilt second he thinks you’re going to reject him. Tell him that you don’t actually want to be with him anymore because of everything he’s said and done up to this point. But then you crack a small smile, almost imperceptible, and his heart soars.

“Of course, Jimin.” Is all you say, and he breaks out into the widest smile you’ve seen from him in a very long time. The only other time you’ve seen him smile like this is when you said ‘yes’ to his proposal, but that seems so far away that it feels like it happened in another lifetime. In this life, however, Jimin is reaching out to pull your face to his before you can register what’s happening, pulling you into a kiss that makes fireworks go off in your brain. He holds you close to him, moving his mouth against yours, and it is the single best kiss you’ve ever had. It feels like you finally got your man back. Oh, how you’ve missed him. 

Cheering from your phone causes you to break the kiss, both of you startled by the noise. You bring the phone up to see Mina and Joy clapping and cheering as if they were watching a live show, causing you to laugh.

“Is that Mina and Joy?” Jimin asks, having heard about them from you, but not having met them yet recently.

“Yeah,” you chuckle, telling them to quiet down.

“Oh god, did they hear that whole thing?” You can see his cheeks turning red out of embarrassment, not expecting to have an audience.

“Unfortunately, yes.” You nod your head, watching the embarrassment grow on Jimin’s face.

“You should be saying “fortunately, yes” because I was 5 seconds away from going over to Taehyung’s house to beat your ass for making my girl cry.” Mina rolls her eyes, earning a disapproving shake of the head from you.

“Alright, well now that you’re in our good graces again I think it’s time for us to hang up and give you some privacy, right Mina?” Joy asks, though it’s less of a question and more of a command. Mina lets out an exaggerated sigh followed by an “I guess” and they both say goodbye to you and Jimin before your phone goes silent. 

“Speaking of privacy,” Jimin starts wiping water from his face. “Can I please come in now?” Not even noticing that he was still half outside of your doorway, back still getting soaked with rain, you gasp and pull him inside. The door closes behind the two of you and a warm feeling washes over him as you escort him to your bedroom to get him some dry clothes. It feels familiar and domestic, like he’s finally home again.

(A/N): Part 4 will contain smut!! But this concludes the main story. Thanks for reading!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

His for Eternity

kai parker x reader | requested 

summary: alaric steals a gemini grimoire, summoning you and kai back to mystic falls. trying to get it back proves to be a challenge with a risk kai’s not willing to take. | heretic!kai x witch!reader

tags: hurt / comfort, smut, violence / blood, blood drinking, kidnapping / minor torture, eventual smut, blowjobs, vaginal sex, dom!kai but also soft!kai

word count: ~8.2k (lmao whoops)

a/n: I’m not sure if this is yandere enough, bc come to find I struggle with writing yandere for some reason. also, i am so sorry it took me forever to write & edit. but it was very fun to write :) i hope this finds the person who requested it, and i hope you like it!

“I don’t like being back here,” you mutter to your boyfriend, whilst stealing a fry off his plate. “We’re supposed to be on the run from these people, not strolling back into their town.”

“I know, but I just need that book back, and then we’ll be out before they even know we were here,” he whispers. 

You glance around the room, unconvinced. 

“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, princess.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. You’re the one that Damon wants dead.”

“Let him try. In case he forgot, I’m a heretic now.”

“Trust me when I said he’s probably thought of a way around that,” you sigh. “Kai, is it really that important? I can’t live without you.”

“It’s not that it’s important, but it’s the fact that Alaric is the one that stole it. The only reasons he would go all the way to Portland just to steal one of my father’s grimoires is if he’s trying to bring Jo back, or if those twins survived somehow. I can’t have him stealing centuries worth of Gemini knowledge that could possibly take me down.”

You hate it, but know he’s right. Kai is the leader of a nearly extinct coven, but he is still the leader. If Alaric has access to any of the grimoires, he could do some serious damage. 

“Okay. I understand. What do you need me to do?”

He pops a fry into his mouth. “Sit tight and let me do all the dangerous stuff.”

“Kai.”

His teeth clench. He hates putting you in harm’s way. 

“Fine. If you could do a locator’s spell on the book. That would help.”

“Okay,” you give a small smile, “let’s go find this missing grimoire, shall we?”

Cloaked under a simple spell, the two of you make your way back to the motel just outside of town where you planned to stay for the duration of this trip. Kai hated the idea of staying in a motel, but you knew it would be the least conspicuous place to be in case anyone caught wind of your return.

Ever since the night of the wedding - aka the night of Jo’s death, aka the night Kai turned, aka the night Elena was cursed - the two of you have been on the run. It was a horrible day for you, having to watch the sister of the man you loved get married, while he was rotting away in another prison world. But then, right before her vows, he came back. In the blink of an eye, the wedding was turned upside down. Gentle cries turned to begs for mercy, but of course, none received it. They didn’t deserve it. You smiled as the members of the Gemini Coven died off one-by-one. You remember spitting in Joshua’s face when he pleaded for his life. 

Right after, you watched your boyfriend drink his father’s own blood to become immortal. You kissed him hard, then, and felt the blood of his enemies seep from his suit to your dress, seemingly binding you for eternity. The last thing Joshua saw were his two greatest regrets coming back together as one. There was nothing he could do to stop you. 

But despite Kai’s success in killing his coven, he almost died in the process. Well, almost died twice. He did die on purpose once to turn himself into a heretic - a species you didn’t know existed until Kai came back to life, craving blood. (When he initially stabbed himself, you let out a blood curdling scream that turned heads towards you. You had never felt more relieved than when he woke up, and he apologized profusely for scaring you.) Though after Damon learned of his payback curse on Elena, the older vampire almost took him out for good. A blood boiling spell muttered from your lips gave Kai just enough time to escape the man, and the two of you bolted from the massive crime scene. 

Since then, you and Kai have been exploring together. Damon nor Bonnie ever came after you, and they instead stayed in Mystic Falls, for reasons you don’t know, nor care to know. Alaric, on the other hand, is the one stirring the pot. And now, his actions have consequences, because Kai is back and determined to take what rightfully belongs to him. 

“Got a location.”

Your boyfriend finally stops pacing the room to look at the map. “I’m going.”

“Wait, Kai! Shouldn’t we, like, have a plan or something?”

“I do. Break in, take it, sneak out. He’ll never know.”

“Unless he’s there, wherever this is, right now.”

Kai hesitates. 

“Let me be a distraction.”

“No.”

“Let me cause a distraction.”

He stares at you. 

“What other options are there? None. I’ll just juju up something outside of the location and he’ll wonder what it is, giving you a little bit of time. He won’t even see me, just a cloud of dust.”

“Can you do that from here?”

“Well no, I have to be somewhat in the proximity.”

“Then no.”

“You’re not doing this without me. I’ll cloak myself.”

“And if you get distracted, you’ll be out in the open for anyone to see.”

“I won’t get distracted.”

“Princess,” he gives you a look that already tells you you’re not winning this argument, “you’re staying.”

“Then you better come back. Unharmed.”

“I promise. Just a quick in and out.”

“Be back in an hour or I will come looking for you.”

“Two.”

“No.”

“Fine. One hour. Don’t leave this room.”

“Be safe, Kai.”

◇◇◇◇

In one hour, he does come back. But not as he promised. 

Kai takes a deep breath before unlocking the motel door. He knows you’ll immediately sense something went wrong, even though the gash on his forehead has healed. Besides, he didn’t even get the stupid grimoire. 

“It’s me, princess,” he announces as he opens the door. 

You hurry over to him quickly. “Did everything go alright? Did you get the book?” You pause, noticing the signs: sweat beading on his forehead, a racing pulse. “Kai, what happened?”

“I didn’t get the book.”

“What. Happened?”

“The book is in Ric’s house,” he says slowly. “Unfortunately, so was Ric.” You sigh, full of worry, but he’s not finished. “And so was Damon.”

“You ran into Damon?!”

“And Bonnie.”

“Kai! Baby, you told me you wouldn’t get hurt! This shouldn’t’ve happened! Now they’re gonna come for you, angrier than ever. We should’ve never come back; we should’ve just-”

“I know, I know. Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for putting you in harm’s way, I’m sorry for-”

“Never mind that, are you hurt? Did they get to you, or just…?”

He hesitated for too long and you know that’s a yes.

“Where?”

“Damon plus a lamp, which he threw at my head. Then Bonnie held me down with magic when I was down and he decided his fist was a better weapon. Luckily something distracted us all long enough for me to escape.”

You take his head in your hands gently, kissing the spot where he got hit. It’s completely healed, yet you can tell exactly where it happened. 

“But as shitty as this is, I did learn something useful.”

“What?”

“The twins survived.”

“What?! Jo’s? How?”

“I have no idea, but in the midst of my screaming and their yelling, I heard a baby cry.”

“So what now? Are you gonna…”

“I don’t know. But something tells me Ric stole that book because those kids are producing magic that he doesn’t know how to control.” Kai then laughs, “you should’ve seen the look on their faces when that happened. I swear the blood drained from Ric’s face, it was priceless!” 

You try to laugh, but you’re too worried about the situation. Kai senses this and gives you a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m okay, princess. It’s going to be okay. I should’ve listened to you about the plan.” 

“Just… can we stay here for the rest of the night?”

The clock reads seven. 

“I-,” he looks at your face, and knows he can’t say ‘no’ to it. Besides, he gave you a hell of a scare earlier and you deserve the comfort. “Alright.” His heart flutters when a huge smile takes over your face. You make grabby hands towards him, coaxing him to come next to you on the bed. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, successfully getting him to cuddle with you. You bury your face in his chest, arms wrapped around his waist, and a leg hooked with one of his. He couldn’t escape your grasp even if he wanted to. 

“I love you, princess.” He melts into your hold, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. 

“I love you, too.”

◇◇◇◇

“So Kai is back,” Damon slouches onto the couch, sighing deeply. 

“And back with a vengeance,” Ric sits opposite of him.

“Yeah, and he found out about the twins.”

“I know… there was nothing I could do, Bonnie. I’m cursing myself by the minute.”

“Do you think his girlfriend is here, too?”

“Definitely. He probably made her stay wherever they’re hiding out.”

“Unless she ditched him like a smart person would.”

“You didn’t see them at the wedding, Bon,” Damon, who witnessed the whole thing, sighs, “she would do anything for him.”

“What do you think made him come back?”

“That might be my fault,” Ric admits, raising a hand. 

“What did you do?”

“I may have gone to Portland and stolen a grimoire.”

“You did what?!” The witch stares at him. 

“I’m raising two Gemini twins without any living, sane, relatives, and I have no idea what I’m doing! I want to be prepared for when they start producing magic.”

“So you stole a grimoire from one of the most powerful covens in history?!”

“They’re all dead! What are they gonna do with them?!”

“Dead or not, Kai is still their leader. He can sense when a grimoire leaves its resting place. You put your daughters and all of us in danger.”

“I didn’t know that! Maybe if my Gemini born wife was still alive, I would. Oh wait, Kai killed her!”

“Alright, enough of the yelling,” Damon shushes, “we’ve already woken up Ric’s kids with it once.” He smirks in a way that’s playful, yet everyone knows it’s a jab.

“Man, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will-”

“Where did you put the grimoire, Alaric? Maybe if we give it back, he will leave.”

“No! I’m using it. Kai doesn’t need it, he’s not raising kids. I-”

“It’s his family’s property.”

“And he hated his family.”

“But it’s still a powerful book that can be used as a weapon. So hatred aside, he will fight to get it back.”

“I-”

“If you don’t return it, you’re putting yourself, your daughters, Caroline’s, ours, the whole of Mystic Falls' lives in danger. He will kill anyone to stay in power, was the wedding not enough proof of that?! If you have a book that teaches you to raise Geminis, they will live long enough to see their twenty-second birthdays, and take his place. If you want your kids to survive, give that grimoire back right now and figure it out yourself.”

“Bonnie, I can’t have two magical kids running around the town untaught.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“Hold on,” Damon interrupts again, “I have a plan. What if we just kill Kai?”

“He’s a heretic now. He can’t be killed.”

“Please, we said the same thing about the originals. There’s always something that’ll kill ‘em. Kai’s a normal vampire, just stake him in the heart. Done.”

“He’s a heretic, Damon,” Bonnie reiterates, “he’s got the advantage of magic.”

“Then we’ll kill Y/N.”

“She’s immortal. And a witch.”

“Something’s got to kill her.”

“Not something that we know of.”

“Then we’ll hurt her. Scare Kai out of Mystic Falls. She will only be freed once he promises to leave.”

“That sounds like playing with fire, Damon.”

“And yet, it’s our best plan.” He looks at Ric, then Bonnie. 

“Whatever, I’m in. Bonnie?”

The witch thinks about it. She doesn’t like the idea of hurting a female witch - she should be trying to make an ally out of you. 

“C’mon, Bonnie,” Damon urges, “he cursed Elena. Killed Jo. She stood by and let it all this happen. She’s just as guilty. Deserves every bit of this.”

“Okay. I’m in.”

◇◇◇◇

“‘Kay, we need a new plan for getting that grimoire back,” you say, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper.  Kai watches you from the edge of the bed in admiration.  “And since people know we’re here, it has to be good.”

“I’m still against any plan that could put you in harm’s way.”

“I know. Which is why I can cloak myself and draw out Ric, while you sneak back into his house. Similar to my first plan, but this one also involves a second distraction. Happening in the square, I’m going to spell up something gnarly that will for sure keep Bamon’s attention long enough for you to get in and get out.”

“Bamon?”

“It’s so much easier than saying ‘Bonnie and Damon’.”

He grins. “And you’ll be sure they won’t see you?”

“As long as everything goes according to plan, yes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll bring a vervain grenade and toss it at them?” You suggest. 

“Not good enough, Y/N.”

“I’ll think of something. I promise.”

He sighs unhappily. “I’ll be fast.”

“I know you will.”

Unfortunately, the trio think of something, too. Unbeknownst to you, Bonnie’s done a locator spell, and is tracking your exact location. You successfully set up your traps before she finished it, but they know you’re in the town’s square. Kai is cloaked, so they don’t see him, and Bonnie can’t track two people at once, but they have a sneaking suspicion about where he is. They must act fast if they are to exact their revenge. 

Despite it still being the earlier hours of the morning, there’s a number of people in the square. Runners, mostly, and a few couples sipping coffee. Big enough of a crowd to cause a panic if something were to scare them. You mutter a fire spell onto the fountain, taking extra energy to put the two opposing elements into combat. People start to gasp and stare as the fire engulfs it, yet the water doesn’t give. In a matter of seconds, a child’s scream sets off the rest of her company. 

Once it causes a big enough scene, you duck from your hidden position and make off to Ric’s house. Even if Damon doesn’t care about the townspeople, some riled up screams will have him at least checking out what happened. And then Bonnie will get involved, probably talking about the situation with Caroline, so you expect to have at least a minute to distract Ric. 

Your plan for Ric is to conjure up a faceless shadow-y figure. You make it move and wave at him with your own body, cloaked from sight. Whether or not he thinks it’s a threat, he’ll at least be confused enough to take a closer look.

As soon as he sees it, he rushes towards it, shouting for it to stay away from his kids. Not the reaction you really expected, but one you’ll gladly take. You stand still, but step back when he starts getting close. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kai sneak into his house behind him. 

But then everything goes wrong. 

The next time you step back, you bump into something large. You furrow your eyebrows and try again, a little to the left, but the wall is still there. You didn’t think you had moved that far; you were standing in the middle of the street. Alaric comes closer to you - too close - and you have to breathe deeply to not panic. Then, you feel magic fighting against your own. Distracted by Ric, you feel yourself weakened against your will. Ric’s grimace turns to a smirk when he realizes it’s just you behind the shadow. As fast as you can, you try to conjure up something new, but then a pair of hands grab your shoulders. 

“Yeah, no more of that. Good try though.” Damon. Dammit. “Where’s Kai?”

You say nothing. 

“Let’s try that again. Where is Kai?”

You stand as still as a statue, giving nothing, saying nothing. 

“Alright, we’ll find him ourselves. Bonnie?”

Immediately, the witch binds your wrists with a spell. You could have fought her off, but you were taken off guard. Ric then throws a bag over your head, before Damon slings you over his shoulder and races off. 

The sound of the back door slamming alerts Ric and Bonnie, and then dash into his house without a second thought. Ric nearly trips up the stairs to check on his kids, while Bonnie searches for where Ric said he hid the Gemini grimoire. One sighs in relief while the other is filled with dread. 

“The girls are okay,” says the relieved one. 

“The book is gone,” she says at the same time. 

For a second, they just stand there, evaluating how bad their mistake was to let Kai get a hold of the book again. As much as Bonnie just wanted to give it back, now he’s going to want revenge on Ric for taking it in the first place. And as soon as he realizes they’ve kidnapped his girl, too, she can tell things are only going to get uglier. 

“Okay, well, the important thing is that the girls are safe.”

Ric nods, “god, but what if he saw them? What if they saw him?”

“I don’t know, but he didn’t hurt them, so that’s all that matters.”

“I need that book back. I need to know how to raise them as Jo would’ve wanted me to. As her coven would’ve.”

“You mean raising them to kill each other in twenty years?”

“Not that,” Ric grimaces, “but training them to control their magic.”

Bonnie understands, but she also knows if Ric had that book any longer, the twins would not have survived today’s encounter with Kai. She decides not to say this, though, and focuses on the new bigger issue. “We need to find Damon. Kai will be after him soon.”

◇◇◇◇

Kai reaches the tree lining where you said you’d be. When you’re not there, he panics immediately. He rushes around the area, calls for you, but has no luck. Something went wrong, like he knew it would. Someone hurt you. Or worse, someone is currently hurting you. Anxiety bubbles in his stomach, threatening to make him sick. He curses, hitting himself repeatedly, and as hard as he can.

Suddenly, he feels your soft hand on his face, stroking his cheek. Shhh, you whisper, you’re okay.

He looks up, but you’re not there. Anger turns to sadness. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, spilling quickly. Even in your absence, you’re there for him. You never let him hurt himself. 

But now someone’s hurting you. And he’s going to make them pay. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s like a flip switches in his brain. You’ve softened him, made him vulnerable to emotions, unafraid to let himself feel. But the minute you’re gone - worse, in danger - the flip turns on and he recognizes his old behavior is out to play. What kept him alive; what sacrificed his sanity for survival. 

He wastes no time getting back to the hotel to do a locator’s spell. Sure, your kidnapper (Damon, probably) has you cloaked somehow, but his coven had ways around tricks like that. In fact, when he was trapped in 1994, he was there with all of the coven’s old grimoires, and could finally read them. You would let him siphon and help him practice the magic he was never taught. Then, in 2013, when the two of you were running from Mystic Falls, you stopped at his old house. All the grimoires you couldn’t access before, Kai now could as the leader. You did the same as you did in the prison world, now learning even more powerful spells. (The two of you would joke that Joshua Parker was yelling up at you from hell whenever you’d let him siphon. The whole reason he sent you to Kai’s prison world when you showed sympathy for the boy is so that he’d hunt you down for your magic and siphon you to death, over and over. Never did he expect the two of you to fall in love and become more powerful than he could ever imagine.)

The memory makes him smile, but also fuels his rage. He needs to find you. Kai spills a small vial of your blood to track you. You both have one of each others’ in case of emergency. A revelation spell and a locator spell at the same time is tough magic, but he is more than capable. It takes longer than he’d like; the revelation spell eats away at the captor’s magic so that a location can be found. If the captor senses their spell weakening, they can fight it. Kai can sense Bonnie’s attempts, but she is no match for an angry, sociopathic, powerful, coven leader who’s looking for the only person he’s ever loved. His eyes darken when the blood moves across the paper, signaling the spot where you’re being kept. He tucks a knife into his boot strap, just in case, before heading out with a vengeance. 

“Kai broke the cloaking spell. I don’t know how, but he’ll be here soon, I’m guessing.”

“How on earth could he have done that?” Damon throws his hands up, “I’ve barely gotten to do anything with her.”

“His magic is strong. He must know a spell that I don’t.”

“Coven spell, no doubt. If only you were part of the less useful coven, we’d be in the clear.”

“Let’s not ruin our half-working team-up with your bitchy comments. And don’t forget who’s saved your ass more times than you could probably count,” Bonnie snarks back. 

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Now, can we go back to torturing Y/N for all the shit she let happen to Elena? If Kai’s getting here soon, I need to get in a couple more punches.”

“Fine. I’ll be down in a second.”

Damon retreats to the dungeons immediately, while Bonnie texts Ric to make sure he’s at home. Last thing they need is for Kai to have a second chance at those twins because their father is feeling bloodthirsty. When he responds, she goes down to give you her own two cents. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s not long after that Kai reaches the Salvatore Boarding House. His stomach churns at the sight of it. He tests the entryway, but walks in with no give, letting him explore the seemingly uninhabited house. That, or they’re hiding somewhere. If the Salvatore house has a secret basement, Kai’s about to find out. He treads lightly, not wanting to let anyone know he’s there, and listening for anything that might be you. It’s eerie. There’s no screaming, no yelling, and no fighting. Almost like you’re gone. Like they found a way to… no, he can’t think like that. You’re alive. You’re just saving your strength. You’re immortal; they can’t kill you. Kai repeats this over and over in his head. Then, when he listens harder, he finally picks something up. The faintest rustling of chains far below catch his ear. He stiffens, then races around the top floor to find the basement door. 

At the sound of a vampire up ahead, Damon goes to confront it. His jaw tenses when he’s faced with Kai once more. 

“You,” he spits. 

“That all you can come up with, Damon? I thought in two years, you’d be able to come up with something better.”

“You’re not the one doing the talking here, I am.”

“Great. Good for you. Where’s Y/N?”

The man only smirks. 

“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

“What’s this? Kai Parker showing affection? Nah. You said it yourself - you’re not capable of feeling those emotions.” Before Kai can answer, he continues. “Me, on the other hand, I am. And you’ve put my girlfriend in a coma and I can’t see her. So you’ll never see Y/N again if you don’t-”

“What? Bring her back? I already told you I can’t.”

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave town if you ever want to see her again. I never, ever want you in Mystic Falls again.”

“I’m not going anywhere without her.”

“Fine. Leave, and in two days’ time, I’ll drop her off outside the town border. You can come get her there and fuck off to wherever you want.”

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’d leave her with you. Where is she?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.”

A new voice enters the room, “just promise you’ll leave, Kai. We’ll give her to you now if you promise you’ll never come back.”

“You guys act like I even want to be here. I don’t. We only came back because Alaric stole my family’s property. If your idiot friend had a couple more brain cells, none of this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that. You were just bored,” Damon strikes back. 

“Actually, I was enjoying my time away from you people. And I didn’t want Y/N anywhere near you guys, either. But she wouldn’t let me come back alone, and I needed that book.” Kai shrugs. “Well, I’ve got the book. Give me my girl, and I will never bother you again.”

“Y’know what’s funny?”

Kai sighs with a roll of the eyes, not wanting to know, but knowing Damon will tell him anyway. 

“I want my girl, too. Yet you’ve put her in a magical coma.”

“Just my revenge for you crossing me. Which, by the way, I thought would be enough of a lesson for you to not do it again, Clearly, I’ve been mistaken.” He cocks his head. “Does BonBon here need a magical nap, too? Or maybe one of those twins that seem to have survived?”

“Do not touch those girls!” Bonnie snaps, taking a step forward. 

“Ooh, I’ve hit a nerve! Yeah, um, that could totally happen. Or I could just kill them. Children are weak. They can barely defend themselves. Trust me, I would know.” The woman is fuming, which is only encouraging Kai. “Especially now that I’m a heretic. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Alright, enough! Just get out.”

“I’ll be on my way shortly. Point me to your secret dungeon, will you?”

With the twins’ lives on the line, Damon knows he shouldn’t push Kai any further. Ric would never forgive him if something happened to them. Which is saying something, because Ric has forgiven Damon repeatedly for his shitty actions. However, that doesn’t mean Damon can’t taunt Kai about the shit he’s put you through in the span of just a couple hours. 

“I’ll bring you to her, but I understand if you’d want to leave her behind. She isn’t very pretty anymore.”

The threat has Kai’s heart racing. His comedic chat with the pair is officially over, and he’s now dead set on getting you out of wherever he’s keeping you. He’s down the stairs and yelling for you as soon as Damon opens the basement door. “Y/N? Are you down here?”

Another small rattle of chains is heard in the darkness. He flips on a light, and finally sees you at the end of the hallway. 

“Oh my god.” He races towards you, choking back a sob at your mangled state. Your hands, bound in chains above your head. Your exposed neck, bleeding from a bite wound, with blood seeping down your shirt. Your hair is matted and eyes are heavy. It takes you a second to recognize him. 

At first, you flinch, thinking the person beside you is your captor. “Don’t,” you mutter. 

Kai’s heart shatters. “It’s me, princess.”

Instantly, your demeanor changes. Your head lifts so you can look him in the eyes. “Kai?”

He puts his hands on your face. “Yes, baby, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He leans in to give you a quick kiss, but then pulls away to break the chains holding you still.

You reach for him the minute your hands are free, and immediately begin to sob. “You found me,” you repeat over and over, “how did you find me?”

“Couple spells. I’m sorry they took so long. Fuck, here, sit up.” 

As soon as you do, he bites his wrist and feeds you his blood. You drink willingly and feel yourself already starting to heal. 

“Awww, how touching. Kai’s learned how to show love.”

“Damon, get the hell out of here,” the man warns, already pissed. 

“This is my house. You get out.”

“She needs a moment to heal first. Since you hurt her!” 

The switch is turning back off, you can see it in Kai’s eyes. Not his humanity switch - he doesn’t even need that one - but something much more dangerous. 

“Kai,” you start to warn, just wanting to leave. 

Damon eggs him on, “oh please, it was deserved. Actually, she deserved a lot more, considering how she’s defended you through all the fucked up shit you’ve done.”

“Just let us go, Damon. We won’t come back,” you try to argue. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Except, I like my original plan over Bonnie’s. Kai, you leave, and in two days’ time, I’ll deliver her back to you. Because I haven’t quite gotten my revenge, and I need to take my anger out on someone.”

“There’s no way in hell that that’s happening.”

“Then I could just lock you both up. That would work.”

“You’re not getting either of us,” he insists. He throws one of your arms around his shoulders and begins to guide you out the door. You stumble a little from the way your heels were slightly off the ground in the way you were bound. 

Damon blocks the door. “Nice try.”

“Get out of the way, Damon.”

“Fine. Your funeral.”

Kai’s not sure what he means, but he doesn’t really care. He helps you up the stairs and towards the door. 

Unfortunately, the main exit is blocked by three huge men. When Kai makes an attempt to get close, they hiss at him, veins in their face turning purple. 

“Oh yeah. Like my little surprise?”

“What is this?” Kai asks through clenched teeth.

“Just an extra challenge for you to fight your way through. See, you could leave without her, and not have to fight three massive vampires compelled to kill you, or you could die at their hands trying to save a girl. Imagine that,” Damon snorts. Kai then realizes Bonnie has joined his side. “Big Bad Malachai Parker dies in the Salvatore house in an attempt to save a girl. That would be quite the headline, I can see it already.”

“What happened to the days you used to kill for sport?” Bonnie pipes up. 

“I would never hurt her, you idiots should know that by now. We’ve been through hell together. She would never abandon me, and I sure as hell won’t abandon her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember your love story. Five years in the prison world together because she just had to piss off Joshua Parker. Was it worth it, Y/N? Talking back to his dear old daddy and getting stuck in the same hell? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if you secretly hate Kai for all the shit he’s pulled.”

Despite your abused state, you manage to straighten your posture to look him in the eye. “It was worth every second, Damon. I love Kai, and I would do it again and again to be with him.”

“That’s some blind devotion, I’d say.”

“Well what’s the difference between us and you and Elena? You both are a complete menace to the world, and yet continue to think your relationship is more valuable than anyone else’s life. I’d think you would agree with me, Bonnie.”

The girl hesitates to answer. Damon snaps, “don’t listen to her bullshit, Bonnie. She knows what to say to make you doubt yourself. Remember the wedding. Remember Elena. Your best friend, comatose, in a coffin. You’ll never see her again.” He smirks as he sees his manipulation working. “Go ahead, BonBon, show her she’s no match for your power. Do it for Elena. Do it for revenge.”

Revenge is the only word she needed to hear to suddenly fire a spell at you. It hits you square in the chest, knocking you off balance. Kai loses his grip on your shoulder at the unexpected move, and in that moment, Damon grabs you. His teeth threaten your neck on the side he’s not yet bitten. Any more blood loss and you might end up in a temporary coma. 

Kai’s eyes darken in pure rage and he shoots his own spell at Bonnie. It stuns her only for a second, but it’s long enough for him to push Damon off of you. You stumble out of the way as they tussle on the ground, both throwing punches like young boys rather than vampires. The method keeps Kai on top, though, more used to fighting this way. In one of his punches, Damon grabs his arm and bites down, but your boyfriend has become blind to pain and doesn’t even react. He pulls a knife from his bootstrap and doesn’t hesitate to plunge it into the man’s stomach. Damon releases a guttural scream of pain, seemingly waking Bonnie from a trance.

When she regains her bearings, she positions a spell to shoot at you. “Phasmatos I-”

Kai leaps up at the first syllable and attacks her. A punch hard enough to blacken the eye lands on her face. He then gains control of her head, locking it in his arm, while exposing her neck. “One more word,” he breathes heavily, out of breath, “and you’re dead.” He nips her skin, drawing a small bit of blood as a warning. 

“Kai,” Damon groans from the floor. “Don’t touch her.”

“You fucking hurt my girl. I told you not to do that.”

Under his grip, Bonnie sweats in fear. She holds back a whine.

Across from him, you hold onto the bookshelf to keep yourself on your feet. “Kai, don’t,” you mutter, coughing. 

He looks up at you, expressionless. “If I don’t hurt them, they’ll hurt you again.”

You look at Damon, rolling on the floor in pain. “I think they’ve learned their lesson this time. C’mon, baby, we have a chance to escape.”

“Princess, they need to pay for what they did to you.”

“And they are. Kai, you’ve beaten them. Beaten them at their own game. They thought they could take me from you? Wrong. Thought they could convince you to leave me? Wrong. Thought they could overpower us? Also wrong. We’re two of the strongest beings on this earth; they’re like ants compared to us. So let’s show them they can’t stop us, can’t control us, and get the fuck out of here. Let them wallow in their misery that you beat them not once, not twice, but three times. And let them think about how you protected me the entire time, despite whatever they think about me, or you, or our love. How’s that sound?”

Kai’s softened by your words, but his grip on Bonnie doesn’t let up. You smile at him, encouraging him to leave with you. Then, with a deep breath, he drops the witch to the ground and races towards the vampires guarding the door. Adrenaline rushes through him, making him able to kill them one-by-one with almost no fight. Their attempts to defend themselves are feeble and pointless. He strikes at their bodies, feeds on their blood, and throws them to the floor. 

When the last is bleeding out on the Salvatores’ expensive carpet, he finally looks up. Your boyfriend’s covered in blood and his eyes are black with rage, but you feel no fear. Instead, you rush towards him and collapse in his arms. The blood from his clothes drenches your own, and you smile at the parallel. 

“Kai,” you mutter.

“Yes, princess?”

“It’s just like the wedding. You, fighting for us. Me, so, so proud of you. Us, bound together in blood.” You pull away to kiss him deeply. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too, baby. Let me get you to safety, okay?”

You nod and let him pick you up bridal style. The last thing you see before he races off is the entryway, decorated in blood and fallen bodies. You lock eyes with both Bonnie and Damon, their faces full of anger and defeat. A smirk forms on your lips, and then you’re gone. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s nearly two days later that you wake up, your body exhausted from everything that happened. Your capabilities as an immortal witch unfortunately don’t include vampire-quick healing, so after Damon’s tricks and torture, you needed time to recover. 

Kai’s right there beside you, though, when you do open your eyes. He’s perched on a chair, watching you intently, with his knee bouncing at a rapid pace. The moment you come to your senses, he leans forward to cup your face in his hands. 

“Princess? How are you feeling?”

It takes you a second to reply, but after a yawn, you smile up at him. “Good. Nap was much needed. How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

“What?! Are we still in Mystic Falls? Has anyone come looking for us?”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Yes, we’re still here, but no, no one’s come. We’re safe.”

You listen to him and calm down a little, but your mind is still racing. “But isn’t Ric going to come for you? Or Damon? Or-?”

“No, baby, I think you scared them off,” he smirks, “reminding them that we’re two of the most powerful beings? That letting them live is a mercy? They won’t be bothering us anytime soon.”

“Well it’s the truth,” you relax, “you could’ve easily killed them, Kai. I’m proud of you that you didn’t.”

“I would have if you didn’t convince me otherwise,” he admits. 

“Don’t beat yourself up for it. I can see your improvements.”

The words are touching to him. So badly does he want to be good for you; more in control of his rage and less likely to make choices without thinking about them. You started encouraging the healthy behavior when you started dating, and have helped him with it ever since. The wedding was an exception of rightful anger, though. The Mystic Falls’ gang’s betrayal was severe, and you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for his outburst. But in smaller situations where a better option is available, Kai’s learning to take it instead of the more vicious route. 

“I, um, I was worried there for a second, Y/N.” You sit up straighter on the bed to give him your full attention. He licks his lips before continuing. “When I got to the house, it was completely silent. I was afraid they’d… I don’t know, found a way to, y’know… or hurt you so badly that you couldn’t get out, or escape, or…” 

“Hey, hey, baby, come here,” taking his hand, you guide him into the bed. He curls up beside you, head on your chest. “There’s no amount of hurt they could’ve done to me that you wouldn’t’ve been able to undo. Like I told them, they only got us because they caught me by surprise. But when it comes down to it, we will always win.” You run a hand through his hair and feel him relax. “This is why it was so quiet, Kai. I knew you’d find me, and I knew you’d give ‘em hell. Was just saving my strength so I could help in the end. That’s all.”

He presses a feather-light kiss to the exposed part of your chest. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“I always will. I trust you with my life, because I am yours.” Despite your boop on his nose, you hope to rile him up with the words. 

A moment later, he shifts. “Say that again.”

“I am yours, Kai.”

He swallows audibly hard. For a second, it’s silent, and you wonder what’s going through his head. Right when you open your mouth to speak, he jumps up to straddle your waist. 

“Hi,” you say, surprised. You can’t hold back the giggle, nor the blush, at seeing him on top of you. 

“Hi, princess.” Lips attach to your collarbone, kissing along it. A fluttering feeling begs for more and you dig your hands into his hair. He picks up on your needs immediately. Hands grip your sides as he starts to suck the skin until it’s purple. You buck your hips up into his, rolling your eyes in pleasure when he lets out a moan. Finally then does he kiss your lips. With a hunger, he kisses you deeply. He bites your lower lip and tastes the blood produced from it. 

“Kai!” You giggle.

He smiles down at you, a drop of your blood on his mouth. You swipe your finger along it, then let him suck it off. The fluttering grows, and your heart is thumping out of your chest. 

“I need you, Kai.”

He teases, “what was that?”

“I said I need you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over your giggling, baby girl. What did you say?”

“Malachai! I need you to fuck me!”

His eyes darken and jaw tenses. You know you got to him. Whether it was the full name or the language you used, you’re not sure, but there’s no going back now. 

You breathe deeply as he moves his hand from your waist to your mouth, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He slips two fingers past your lips and nods for you to suck, then dips his fingers below your panties, finding your clit. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, and you buck your hips again for more. 

“Who do you belong to, princess?”

“You.”

“Good girl.”

In one fell swoop, he uses his vampire speed to undress you. 

“C-can I?” You stutter, grabbing at his shirt. 

He nods. You waste no time pulling it over his head, then fumbling with his belt. Kai lets you shrug his pants down as far as you can, before he kicks them off himself and sends them to the floor. You make a grab for his visible bulge next, but miss as he sinks his body down onto yours, grinding into your leg. A quiet moan soon becomes vulgarly loud when he licks a stripe up from your navel to your breasts. In a frenzy to hold onto something, your hands find his hair again, fingers digging deep. He teases your nipples with his tongue, always loving the way they bounce. He does this every time you have sex, but you’re not complaining. His mouth upon your soft skin is a heavenly feeling. It relaxes both of you. 

But this isn’t the time for relaxing. You need him to fuck you. 

After a minute, you take charge. You suddenly flip him over so you’re on top, then waste no time stripping him of his boxers. As soon as he realizes what’s happening, Kai tries to fight. He tries to gain control again, but fails when you grab his cock in your hands. You spit on it and watch his head fall back on the pillow. Your victory is cut short when he sees the smirk on your lips. 

“I thought I owned you, princess.”

“I thought you did, too. But it was pretty easy to take over,” you challenge. 

“You’re playing with fire.”

“Come on, put me in my place, then.” 

You put your mouth on him the second he tries to sit up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. 

Kai is rendered unable to fight you with your mouth around his cock. You start at the tip, teasing and sucking the slit, before taking him a little deeper each try. With one hand, you’re holding him down, while the other tugs on his balls. Used to his size, you only gag the first time that you take him fully. He moans every time your tongue runs along the thick vein on his underside, or whenever his head hits the back of your throat. 

It isn’t long before you can tell he’s close. Small tears escape the sides of his eyes and he’s a blubbering, begging mess. You debate making him wait to cum - making him fuck you first - but then his cock twitches and you know he’s not going to last that long. Besides, he’s a heretic. He’ll be hard again in two minutes tops. 

You pull off just for a minute. “Cum for me, Kai.” Then go right back to it, humming to send him over the edge. 

The vibration moves through him at the exact time he releases, shooting down your throat. He pants heavily when he’s finished, and you can’t help but to lean forward and kiss him. 

“I’m the only one that’ll ever get to fuck you,” you whisper against his lips. “Because I’m yours. Now show me how you feel about that, hm?”

Kai doesn’t know if he’s ever been more turned on in his life. He flips you onto your back immediately and holds you down by your shoulders. His tip teases your entrance, hardening again already. 

“I’m the only one that’s ever gonna fuck you, too. You’re mine. No one can look at you. No one can touch you. You’re all mine.” He slips into you without warning, making your eyes roll back in your head. “I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you again. Never gonna be away from me. You’re not gonna be two seconds out of my sight.” He’s pounding into you, finding a rhythm quickly. “Fuck, Y/N. I fucking love you.” Every emotion is seemingly pouring out of him, and you let him say what he needs to say. You love it, and love that he’s finding an outlet in you in this moment. “You’re so fucking sexy under me, and on top, and the other day, fighting for me without hesitation. Putting them in their places, and then letting them live with the fact that they lost. And you’re so hot when you’re covered in their blood. When your eyes are dark with rage. Everything you do is hot.” 

Underneath you, the hotel bed is shaking. Kai puts his arm under your neck, stabilizing you in the off-chance it breaks. His other hand finds your clit again, rubbing how he knows you like it. You can feel him deep inside, and even see a bulge in your stomach. He takes a break in his praise, leaving the only noises to be obscene sounds of sex. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeats, getting sloppy. His kisses are wet and messy all over your face. He’s close again, and you are too.

“I love you, too. Kai,” you moan out, “I fucking love you. I belong to you, and I always will.”

Kai repositions his body to try and gain back control. Being close to the edge seems to give his cock a mind of its own. In the midst of this, he hits a spot that sends pleasure throughout your body. A loud moan escapes your parted lips. He’s quick to press a kiss to them, silencing you. 

“I’m the only one that gets to hear you moan,” his breath hits your face at the proximity. You’re so close. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all you need to lose control. Your body shakes throughout your orgasm, and you would’ve moaned again if he weren’t kissing you. Your hands grip his shoulders, the sheets, his hair, anything that you can grab in the moment. They finally land on his waist, and you sigh heavily at the feeling of his soft skin under your fingers. 

Kai cums a second later, groaning into your mouth. He keeps his cock buried inside you as he fills you up, preventing any of it from spilling. Sweat beads at his forehead. He won’t be able to keep himself upright for much longer. As soon as he finishes, he collapses beside you, panting heavily. 

You feel his cum leaking out of you, and can’t help but to swipe a fingerful into your mouth. His eyes are on you the whole time, offering you a lopsided smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he praises. 

“I love you, Kai.”

“I love you.” He turns to you. Effects of his high are still there, but you can tell his mood has changed to something softer. “You’re mine, Y/N, but you’re also your own person. Like you taught me, people are something we love, not own.”

If it’s even possible for you to fall more in love with him, you just did. “I know. But it’s why we love each other so much that we belong to each other.”

He kisses you again, completely satiated. “Princess?”

“Mhm?”

“We’ve got each other. We’ve got this stupid Gemini book. What do you say we get the fuck out of Mystic Falls for good?”

“I’d like that very much. I’ll go anywhere with you, love.”

[moralesmilesanhour]

baby's breath and burnout. 01

summary: a flowerbyte florist x tattoo artist au. wc: 1,800

Margo had been working at Jessica Drew’s flower shop for four years now.

The tall, dark-skinned black woman’s face was smooth and shiny in the way that soon-to-be mothers’ faces tended to be when the younger entered her shop for the first time. One hand rested just below her stomach, while the other adjusted and re-adjusted the arrangement of hydrangeas sitting in a green vase by the cash register. 

Margo had her hair freshly slicked back with what must’ve been a pound of gel, ending in one big puff at the back of her head. Her eyeliner was winged sharply at the edges of her eyes, the only sharp thing on her face with her rounded cheeks and gently-sloped nose. 

“Margo, right?”

A tooth-gapped smile spread across her face when Margo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Your friend told me you were coming.”

“I gotta warn you, I don’t know much about flowers, but I can work a register.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure you learn a thing or two about flower arrangements,” Jess waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll have you shadow me for a little bit, then you’re on your own.”

“Sounds intense.”

She shrugged.

“If you can cut flowers and put ‘em in the right order, you’ll be fine. Most people just get roses anyway.”

Margo laughed, revealing a smile that mirrored the other woman’s.

a new customer.

The bell above the door rang to welcome a new customer. Margo was in the middle of getting the last hydrangea settled into the middle of the vase, her back to the entrance.

“Welcome to Jess’ Flowers, how can I–”

“Hey, you!”

She stopped dead in her tracks when she recognized the man who had tattooed her two weeks ago. He wore a white graphic t-shirt instead of a hoodie, the sleeve just short enough that Margo noticed unintelligible lines of dark ink peeking out from beneath it.

She couldn’t remember what had been written on his name tag (something starting with an ‘M’), but he seemed to remember hers.

“Margo?” 

“Yup,” Margo replied as she abandoned her vase to get behind the counter. “I remember you had an ‘M’ name too, right?”

She hummed the ‘m’ sound, waiting for him to complete it. “Miles,” he said with an easy grin. “My last name’s Morales, so I’ve actually got two of ‘em.” 

Margo had her sleeves rolled up, so the new ink on her forearm was visible once he approached the counter.

Miles pointed to it, “Can I see?”

“Sure.”

She held her arm out, not expecting him to gently take it as he had at the tattoo parlor to examine his work with a furrowed brow. He ran his thumb across her wrist as Margo watched his face for any sign of error. It looked perfect to her, but you never know, right? 

She was frozen in place until Miles let go and nodded approvingly.

“It healed up really nicely, you did a good job.”

“That’s a relief. The way you were lookin’ at it, I thought I might have to get it removed,” she laughed.

“Nah, it’s just that I’ve had clients come back with all types of infections,”

He began counting on his fingers as he rattled off bits of advice, clearly no longer focused on Margo.

“I tell everybody ‘keep it clean and dry’, ‘don’t scratch it’, but then they don’t, and come back asking me to re-do it–”

Miles stopped himself before he went on a tangent about proper tattoo aftercare. He lowered his hands.

“...Thank you for following directions, is what I’m saying.”

“No problem! It’s one of my many talents,” Margo said. 

She stood there, hands primly folded behind her back as she smiled like a doofus.

A silence took over for a few seconds before she suddenly remembered her job.

“Uh, right. Did you want anything?”

Miles blinked twice before it came back to him.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, sorry. I had just walked past and saw y’all had roses?”

 “We do,” Margo said carefully, her smile faltering.

“Who’s…the lucky lady?”

“They're, uh, for my mom,” he corrected, scratching the back of his neck. “I'm visiting my folks’ house for the first time in a while.”

“Oh,” Margo nodded slowly as her face heated up with embarrassment.

“Well, that’s real sweet of you. The flowers are in the back, just–um–gimme a second!”

She rushed out from behind the register and to the back of the shop, where a pile of un-trimmed roses lay waiting. She was supposed to get that done half an hour ago, at any rate.

If you worked there long enough, putting a bouquet together became as mundane as taking orders at a drive-thru: Cut the dead leaves, snip a couple inches off of the stems at a 45-degree angle, just so. Rinse and repeat.

After doing this, Margo wrapped the blooms tightly with pink paper.

Had she not been so frazzled by Miles’ sudden appearance, she would’ve told him that there were other flowers that moms liked. Men always came in with only roses in mind, for any and every occasion. Yet another thing Jess had been right about.

Margo wrapped the bouquet neatly in a bright red ribbon, after adding bits of baby’s breath in between the roses as filler. Creative liberties.

“Here you are,” she held it up proudly like a newborn. “Hope your mom enjoys these.”

“Me too,” He joked as he cradled it just as gently in his arms. He was careful to not wrinkle the paper too much or ruin the flowers. A hopeful look crept onto his face.

“See you around?”

Margo reclaimed her spot behind the register and waved. “Maybe.”

She would bury her face in her hands for saying this as soon as he left, but it made Miles laugh.

the day in question.

Margo fiddled with her sleeves as she entered the tattoo parlor a couple blocks from her workplace. It was sandwiched between a pet shop and a boutique, and the slightly uneven entrance gave you the impression that it was being crushed between two invisible hands. 

A brown-skinned Indian man with a full head of wavy, mahogany locks stood behind the front desk. He had it cut into choppy bangs in the front, with slightly longer bits peeking out from the nape of his neck. The bangs were held up by a bright blue headband, which stood out against his orange hawaiian shirt. He smiled at her, though it didn’t reach his wide eyes. The slight bags beneath them made him look happier than he was regardless. 

“Here for an appointment?”

“Yup, tattoo.”

“Do you have a sketch or a picture of the design with you?”

Margo reached into her tote bag and pulled out the sheet of paper that Gwen drew on. 

“Cool. He’ll be here in a second.”

The cracked and peeling leather of the waiting bench squeaked beneath Margo’s weight as she bounced her leg up and down, her nerves mounting by the second. The designs crowding the wall across from her were all flaming skulls that gnashed and snarled, or stoic samurai surrounded by dragons that curled tentatively around them, all shaded with dark hatched lines. She had all but forgotten Gwen’s advice to check at least one of the artists’ social media before going; she had just up and left the house with the feverish excitement of doing something drastic. 

Margo tried to imagine what her tattoo artist would look like, but couldn’t conjure up anything more creative than a pale hipster wearing a black beanie and a t-shirt with the name of a band she had never heard of written on it. The thought dissipated when a man’s soft voice caught her attention.

“Margo? Margo…Kess?”

Margo had to crane her neck to get a good look at the lean black man standing by the front desk. 

She got the beanie part right. Pale, not so much. 

He wore a bright red hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to reveal an expanse of deep russet-brown, completely devoid of any ink whatsoever. This would’ve invited the possibility that he was there to take her to the room where her assigned artist actually was, if he wasn’t in the middle of removing white gloves stained with ink at the fingertips. 

The man looked around the room for a good minute before locking eyes with Margo, and it was then that she remembered to answer.

“Oh, that’s me, sorry!”

She shot up from her seat with an awkward grin plastered across her face. This made him burst into short, breathy laughter.

“Then why you ain’t say nothing? Had me looking around an empty room like a dumbass.”

The light, easy tone of the man’s voice softened his crass language. His smile dazzled her when he held out a now-gloveless hand for her to shake.

“I’m Miles.”

“Margo–ooh, wait, you know that already. My bad.”

This made Miles snort and laugh even harder.

“I think we’re gonna be good friends, Margo. Follow me.”

Margo held her breath, trying to remain stock-still as Miles pressed the cold stencil to her forearm. She didn’t so much as speak until he was finished applying it.

“Sorry for not bringing that in beforehand. I kinda did this on impulse, y’know?”

“That’s alright, it’s just a flash,” he rose to his feet from the stool he was sitting on. “It’s cute.”

He held her gaze with warm brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief when they caught the light. She averted her eyes to look at one of the drawings on the wall behind him.

“Thanks.”

The hum of the machine had made Margo nervous at first.

“How much will it hurt?” she asked with a false air of humor. “Scale of one to ten.”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now,” he looked up briefly with a grin. “It’s on your arm, and the needle’s not that big, so…I’d say about a two.”

“How do you know?”

The question gave voice to the thought she’d been holding onto since she walked in.

Miles chuckled softly. “I got ink, just not where you can see it. You ready?”

With this new-found assurance, Margo relaxed into the big leather armchair as Miles went to work. He was right; she only felt a tingling, bordering-on-itchy sensation as the needle traveled across her skin. Gwen hadn’t colored in the sketch she brought in, which meant that there was no shading or coloring to be done. Margo had a monarch butterfly on her arm before she knew it.

“You like it?”

Miles flashed another smile at her as he spread a cool gel over the tattoo. He already knew what she would say.

“Are you kidding?” Margo lifted her arm and held it up to the light. “I love it.”

[allymcfee]

Fun Facts About Your Tav

Thank you for tagging me @emmy-dekarios-bg3 , @pinkberrytea , @andromedaancunin , and @xxnashiraxx ! I loved learning about your tavs 💖💖💖 This game is so amazing for letting us have such different characters. So for my evil run Durge…

Jynx

1. Is Your Character Good, Evil, or Neutral? (Makes some good decisions, some bad ones?)

Jynx is straight up evil. She just likes to see what will happen with no regard of the consequences for others. All that matters is that she and Astarion are safe. She will turn on the other companions if the need arises. Right now, they serve their purpose. Shes like a pissed off, wounded cat that’s been backed into a corner. She’s been hurt before by those closest to her (papa Bhaal, Orin, and Gortash to a lesser extent) and she’s never letting that happen again.

2. What Hobbies Do They Partake In?

Astarion and Jynx like to play a hunting game where they hunt each other kind of like a fucked up hide and go seek. If Astarion wins, he gets to caprisun Jynx until she’s drained dry (don’t worry they have so very many revivify scrolls). If Jynx wins, well let’s just say someone’s getting a spanking.

3. Do They Own Any Heirlooms From Their Family or Ancestors?

Her runic neck tattoos. She doesn’t remember their significance yet, but they allow Bhaal to control her through the urges. The tadpole mitigates the urges somewhat, but the runes are even more powerful magic. He put them on her neck because he was worried if they were anywhere else, she would just cut off that limb to escape. Kind of hard to live without a head - just ask Karlach.

4. Can Your Character Cook?

Hahahaha. No and I wouldn’t suggest you try anything she is eating either. Gale already caught her trying to sneak dwarf into the camp stew. He now places wards around the camp cooking pot which she’s already activated twice.

5. Does Your Character Have a Best Friend?

This is normally where I would list Karlach. RIP Mama K. For Jynx, if she can’t pick Astarion, she would choose Shadowheart. She is the female version of Astarion after all. Shadowheart is a Way of Shadow Monk and she and Jynx have a friendly competition on who can kill the most people in each fight. Jynx even gave Shadowheart her Death Stalker Mantle to make it fair.

6. Their Biggest Fear?

Losing herself to the urges or losing Astarion. All of the worst things that can happen to her have happened already. Like Gortash, instead of rising above, she’s going to lean in and become the baddest bitch in Faerun. She thinks if she is all powerful no one can ever hurt her or Astarion again. She doesn’t care who gets hurt in the process. No one looked out for her except Astarion; so he’s the only one she will protect.

7. Name One of Their Red Flags.

I mean she’s kind of all red flags. Her only green flag is that she loves someone and wants to protect him. Otherwise she’s making everyone around her worse and killing everyone else.

Thank y’all again for tagging me! Sorry for the delay. I was on a business trip all last week and just got back late last night. I just want to say “Fuck Trump” because well fuck him.

My no pressure tags are @onlyancunin , @atsadi-shenanigans , @preciouslittlebhaalbae , and @marlowethebard .

[fairyhagmother]

13 Books

Thank you @gellavonhamster ! This was really fun :)

The last book I read: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. A decade late to the party and my verdict is that I preferred the film. Sorry don’t kill me. 

A book I recommend: We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. I always reflexively call this my favourite book and I re-read it recently and it was as brilliant and as chilling as I remember. Merricat truly is a masterclass in writing unreliable narrators. 

A book I couldn’t put down: Anyone who follows me on my main blog knows I am deep in my hunger games era. I read the prequel over a week-end when I was in Berlin with work and now the whole trip is sort of a surreal blur. Highly recommend reading a book about violence and commemoration while walking around the haunted city that is Berlin.

A book I’ve read twice (or more): Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. I read it every Christmas! 

A book on my TBR: Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire.

A book I’ve put down: Intercepts by T.J. Payne. It’s about an underground government lab that experiments with sensory deprivation. I love horror actually! but I get really upset when anything bad happens to pets and as soon as I sense that something may happen to a beloved animal I check out. 

A book on my wishlist: I recently read Scorched by Wajdi Mouawad, and it was incredible! So I would like to find the time to read the rest of his ‘inheritance’ cycle of plays.

A favourite book from childhood: La Douane Volante by François Place, which is the story of a young boy from 1914 Brittany who finds himself in a sort of parallel universe based on a fantasy Belgium / the Netherlands and trains to become a physician. 

A book you would give to a friend: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.

A book of poetry you own: Hm. Does my anthology of Middle-English lyrics count?

A non-fiction book you own: Chernobyl by Serhii Plokhy.

What are you currently reading: Betty by Tiffany McDaniel, a family chronicle about a young girl growing up in rural Appalachia. 

13. What are you planning on reading next: The new Julia Armfield novel, Private Rites! I love Armfield so I am so excited.

I tag : @persephoneprice @coryo @the-tenth-arcanum @readingloveswounds @hrimceald @laminacore

xoxox

[baronessblixen]

I'm doing the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge that msrafterdark posted!

Day two: Mulder plays Santa

Summary: Mulder offers to play Santa for Bill Jr.'s son. What could possibly go wrong? (wc: 1,827)

Tagging @today-in-fic

Santa Mulder Is Coming To Town

He tries not to, but it’s difficult not to watch Scully talking on the phone. They’re at work, but she excused herself, saying she needed to take this. So far she’s bitten her bottom lip, sighed twice, and rubbed her eyes. Whoever is on the phone with her, is testing her patience. He should know; usually, he’s the one causing these reactions.

A part of him is amused, but the other is worried. For once, he’s not the root of her problems. But someone – or something – is making her upset. And a few days before Christmas, too. For once, he wants her to spend a Christmas without any kind of hiccup. He’s tried to make last year special by taking her to a haunted house. That almost backfired on him. This year all he’s doing is dropping her off at her mother’s. No cases or ghosts for her. His only Christmas wish is that Scully gets to spend a few peaceful days with her family.

“Is everything all right?” he asks her once she hangs up the phone and joins him again.

“It’s just my family,” she says, taking a new set of latex gloves to put on. Mulder’s eyes are still on her, waiting for her to explain. He won’t pressure her for details, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t curious. “Well, it’s Bill.”

“Ah, my favorite Scully. What did he do this time?”

“He and Tara decided to hire someone to play Santa for my nephew Matthew this year. And the guy canceled on them last minute and now they can’t find anyone else so close to Christmas.”

“I can do it.” The words are out before he has a chance to think about it.

“Mulder, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m offering,” he says. “Let me do this, Scully. Or do you want to explain to your nephew why Santa decided not to visit him this year?”

“Mulder, he’s two. I doubt he cares. You really don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he says, taking one of her hands into his. “Please.”

“Under one condition,” she says and he nods, trusting her implicitly. “We’re not telling Bill until the whole thing is over.”

Mulder grins and says, “deal.”

There’s not much time, but Mulder does his research. Scully assures him that there’s a Santa costume at her mother’s house that he can use. No need to worry about that. He asks Scully a million questions about Matthew on their way over to Mrs. Scully’s house. She’s the only other person who knows about this scheme. Even through the phone, Mulder could hear the other Scully woman smile when her daughter told her. At least that’s one more person on his side. It all depends on how Matthew will react to him. If he’s at all like his father, this could turn into a disaster.

Mrs. Scully is already waiting for them when they arrive. She quickly hugs each of them before she ushers them inside.

“I sent Bill and Tara on an errand. Matthew is taking a nap. You need to hide, Fox.” He’s never seen Mrs. Scully so much in her element. She’s pushing him towards the basement. A place he’s all too familiar with. It makes him smile.

“The basement is the safest option,” she says. “Oh no, I think I heard their car. Dana, show Fox where everything is. I put the Santa suit down there. See you later.” Maggie winks at them and Mulder finds himself chuckling as Scully takes him down to the basement.

“I’m sorry,” Scully says as she switches on a light. “They want this to be perfect for Matthew. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“Scully, I’m in your mother’s basement. It’s too late to change my mind. And anyway, I don’t want to. I offered to do this, remember?” She nods and worries her lip again. If she keeps going like this, she’ll bruise it. He touches her shoulder, hoping to distract her from whatever is troubling her. It works.

“I haven’t thanked you properly.”

“You have,” he says, inspecting the Santa costume and pushing a finger into the belly made out of jelly.

“No, I haven’t.” She grabs his shirt and he turns to her, a questioning look on his face. He can’t read her, her expression a mystery. One he’s curious about. For a moment, she just stares at him, as if trying to find the right words or find her courage. He bites his tongue, determined to wait for her. He sees the moment she makes her decision, whatever it ends up being.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she says, her voice quiet and hoarse. Then she does what he hadn’t dared hope. She gets on tiptoes, her hands on his chest, and kisses him softly on the mouth. His eyes flutter shut and even as she lets go, he doesn’t want to open them again. He wants to bask in this moment and keep it forever.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Scully jokes, prompting him to crack open one eye. She’s wringing her hands, so he takes one into his.

“I should thank you,” he says. “For letting me spend the day with you. For letting me be here.”

“Mulder, you’re doing us a favor.”

“Dana, are you down there?” A voice asks from upstairs and they both startle.

“I better get up there,” Scully says, as reluctant to leave as he is to let her go.

“One more for good luck?” He shouldn’t press his luck but she smiles at him and presses another quick kiss to his lips before she runs back upstairs. Now all he can do is wait.

And wait he does. Scully texts him every few minutes, updating him on what’s going on upstairs, and warning him that his big moment is coming on. He gets ready and puts on the suit, wishing Scully were still here to help him. The beard goes on last and there’s no mirror, so he can only hope he’s disguised himself well enough.

His heart is racing as he makes his way up the stairs. He can hear chattering and what is clearly a very excited child. He has to do this right. Matthew probably won’t remember this in the years to come, but his parents will. His grandmother will. And his aunt. He takes one last deep breath before he cracks open the door.

“Are you excited to see Santa?” The gentleness in Scully’s voice makes Mulder melt momentarily. The kiss they shared runs through his mind, but he has to push that thought away. He can ruminate on that later.

“Santa!” Matthew exclaims and Mulder decides that this is his moment.

“Ho, ho, ho.” He steps forward and there’s little Matthew, crawling out of Scully’s arms and walking toward him on his small toddler legs. He stumbles once and almost falls, but Mulder catches the boy who stares at him with wide, curious eyes and an open mouth.

“Santa,” he whispers in awe.

“Hello, Matthew.”

“It me! It me!” he says excitedly, turning to his parents, who are clinging to each other with matching faces full of love for their little boy.

“Were you a good boy last year?” Mulder asks and Matthew nods his head enthusiastically.

“Pesants,” Matthew says. “Pwease?”

“Matthew,” Bill chastises and Mulder is careful not to look directly at the man, afraid he might recognize him after all.

“I have presents for you, Matthew. You asked me for a big bag of building blocks, is that right?” Again, Matthew nods, peeking at the bag Mulder brought with him. There are several presents in here, but Scully pointed out the one Matthew is to be given now. He takes it out and hands it to the small boy, whose eyes are shining.

“Do you need help, sweetie? Let your daddy help you,” Tara says and Mulder shoots a glance at Scully. But when Bill comes over, he only has eyes for his son. Bill is gentle with Matthew as he helps him tear the wrapping paper. The boy squeals when he sees the colorful building blocks and demands to play with them.

“What do we say, Matthew?” Bill says, pointing at Mulder, who is still hoping that the other man doesn’t look more closely.

“Tank you, Santa!” Matthew turns to him and throws his arms around him. His beard gets out of place and he quickly rights it, hoping no one saw it.

“We have cookies for you… Santa,” Scully says. “Say goodbye to Santa, Matthew.”

“Bye.” The boy is no longer interested in Santa now that he has the toy he’s been waiting for. The adults chuckle and Mulder feels their eyes on him. He bows and waves before he runs a hand over Matthew’s soft hair.

“I’ll show you the, um, cookies.” Scully follows him out of the living room. Once they’re in the kitchen, he rips the beard off, grinning at her.

“How was I?”

Scully doesn’t answer him and just puts her arms around him as well as she can with his protruding jelly belly between them.

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“You already said that,” he reminds her, trying not to think of the kiss they shared earlier.

“You were amazing.”

“Keep talking.”

“I’d rather not.” And her mouth is back on his. He’s so surprised that he gasps into her mouth before he reciprocates. He forgets where they are and doesn’t really care either way. He’s kissing Scully. And she’s kissing him as if there’s no tomorrow. This is the best Christmas he’s had in years. Or maybe it’s the best Christmas he’s ever had.

“What the hell is happening here?” Bill’s boasting voice makes them jump apart. “Why were you kissing Santa, Dana? Who is he?”

“No one you know,” Scully says, trying to shield Mulder and he’d laugh if Bill’s eyes weren’t narrowed at him.

“What are you doing here?” he growls.

“Bill.” They all turn to Mrs. Scully, who appears behind her son. “Think about your son and how happy he was to see Santa. Fox did that, didn’t he?”

“But he’s leaving now,” Bill says, his eyes darting between his sister and Mulder. “Right? Santa can’t stay.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Actually,” Mrs. Scully says. “It’s up to Dana. She gets to decide. Now come on, Bill. You go play with your son. You don’t want him to come looking for you here and find Santa, do you?” Bill grumbles but does as he’s told. Mrs. Scully grins at them and Mulder gives her an appreciative nod.

“I love your mother, Scully.”

“I want you to stay,” she says quickly, turning to him. “If you want.”

“What do you think?” He leans down and kisses her again, softly this time. “I need to change out of this costume.”

“Do you need my help?” Scully smiles at him and he doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

“Always."

[psychopomp-recital]

hi I just wanted to ask: what drew you to death magic specifically? and, if your comfortable, how do you deal with grief (both yours and others) by being a death witch? (plz don't feel obligated to answer if it's too invasive /gen)

Oh not too invasive at all! Thank you for being so polite, this response is very long I’m sorry you asked a rather deep question 🩵 CONTENT WARNING IN TAGS

What drew me onto this path?

TLDR; I have always been surrounded death and it has been an ever present part of my life. I hated the idea that when someone died they were gone forever that’s it. Because regardless if you believe in spirits, I hope we can all agree that we’re all collections of the ancestors who make up our bodies & the ancestors who make up our personalities, we are who we are because of those passed on. And I can all but hope that someday someone will remember me and my stories the same way I remember these folks.

I want to be a good ancestor someday.

THE LONG ANSWER

I was raised in the Southern United States. The culture of this area is that surrounded in death. Everywhere you go there is haunted places and cemeteries. There’s also a strong sense of family there, this feeling that everyone is woven and interconnected.

I was raised Mormon and by a folk magical family who taught me the importance of ancestor work. I understood that these folks are part of me, by blood or otherwise they have made me who I am.

I was raised holding hands with my ancestors chronic illness. I looked it in the face everyday. Haunted by the idea that someday my body would rot away the same way I saw theirs rot, reminded everyday that illness could rip my mother from me without warning.

I eventually realized I could continue to ignore death, pray I have time on this earth to do what I want to do and run from it. Or I could embrace its role in my life and welcome it like an old friend.

I found comfort in the idea that I could help those who have passed on. The families who never got to say goodbye now had an opportunity to at least send the message. I could do my part to calm the fear these folks feel when they slip further into deaths grasp. I found a purpose for the pain I was experiencing.

If I could learn all I can while I’m alive, perhaps when I die I’ll be able to leave behind my knowledge and someone can keep this practice going. In that way, they keep me alive too.

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name.

How do I handle the grief of others and the personal grief I experience?

I think I actually made a post on this! I’ll link it below!

But honestly it just comes down to boundaries, and being kind to yourself. It’s okay to cry and be upset and miss those lost to us. It’s okay to mourn for the dead you work with. YOU ARE STILL HUMAN. Don’t loose sight of that.

Also if you check out #MyPsychopompJournal you’ll see some entries on grief and my raw experiences with it. The one below in particular is a pretty good example;

Let me know if you are interested in a more in depth post about how I handle grief personally because I don’t want to ramble more than I already have!

ASK MY ANYTHING ASKS ARE OPEN!

[starlightswitch]

Lost: Heirloom Ring

@flashfictionfridayofficial I did this sort of story years ago for Writer's Month and to my surprise it got more interest than normal for me; I wonder what will happen this time?

10:27PM You didn’t tell me you got home so I’m hoping that means you forgot and not that you were in an accident or something.

I got home

Okay

10:38PM I don’t even want to tell you this.

What?

10:50PM I lost the ring – It could literally be anywhere – What am I going to tell Grandma?

Okay don’t – Sorry I didn’t mean to hit send there. I mean this in the nicest way possible but don’t be dramatic. It couldn’t literally be anywhere.

I mean basically – I made the most stops possible on the way home – I got gas twice because the first place was expensive and I got a coffee so I needed an extra bathroom stop – It could be any of those places – I should have left it on my finger. Then I would at least know when it went missing

Or it could have fallen off your finger and rolled down a storm drain. Breathe, okay?

Grandma is going to kill me

Grandma is not going to kill you

She might disown me

Uh, no

She might hate me for the rest of her life and then come back and haunt me

Oh my god. Get back to me when you’re calm enough to remember what Grandma is like.

Ha ha ha ha – Can you at least kind of sympathize? I LOST THE RING

Yes I got that. I have an idea. Where were all those places you stopped?

The usual. The Wawa halfway, that Little River Coffee Co, the usual rest stop, and that last Sheetz before home. Don’t tell me to go back to all of them and look

Of course not

Grandma would call that a fool’s errand

That much driving? It would be a fool’s *quest*. Nope, I’m going to post about it and tag them all

Oh – How are you going to tag a rest stop?

I’m going to tag the Department of Transportation

Jess Kalin Monday, 8:15AM Yesterday, at brunch with my little sister Ella at the amazing Back Door, my grandma gave each of us a piece of jewelry that belonged to our mother (who you may know passed away a few years ago). To me, the pearl necklace she wore for her senior picture and graduation. To Ella, a gold ring studded with tiny emeralds– green being Mom’s and Ella’s shared favorite color. The ring was a tiny bit big for Ella, so she tucked it in her pocket.

After her seven-hour drive home, Ella found the ring was gone.

We are hoping against hope it can be found where she stopped along the way. I’ll drop the exact locations in the comments. @Wawa, @Sheetz, @LittleRiverCoffeeCompany, @VirginiaDepartmentOfTransportation can anyone help us?

Virginia Department of Transportation Not Responding to Comments About Missing Ring Monday, 3:51PM The Virginia Department of Transportation has turned off comments on a post on their Facebook page asking if they will help in the search for a missing ring.

Yesterday afternoon, the Department was tagged in a post by Facebook user Jess Kalin. Kalin’s sister, Ella, apparently lost a ring, a family heirloom that had just been passed down to her, on an interstate drive. The now-viral post led Facebook user Lisa Kowalski to post on the Department of Transportation’s page requesting they help with the search for the ring. The post garnered dozens of comments in a few hours…

7:16PM Hey, isn’t the Back Door the restaurant you really like with the pierogis on the brunch menu?

Yeah, why?

There’s this article about this whole thing with a missing ring and the DOT. I just thought it was interesting the ring apparently got given to the person in the first place at the Back Door (link)

Oh my god

Back Door Restaurant Monday, 8:27AM FOUND: Ring. By the table one back from the window on the wall by the parking lot. (Pic is of the table we mean.) Describe to claim. Please spread the news if you know someone who was here yesterday, it’s a beautiful ring and we’re sure the owner wants it back!

Missing Ring Safe and Sound, “Most People Want to Help” Tuesday, 12:01PM A ring thought to have been dropped somewhere on the long drive from eastern Virginia to western North Carolina has been found.

The ring was given to Ella Kalin by her grandmother, Betty Sorochman, at popular brunch restaurant the Back Door on Sunday. When Kalin arrived home that evening, she discovered the ring was missing and assumed she must have lost it on the drive, prompting her sister Jess to take to Facebook.

Jess Kalin’s plea for help went viral. The manager of the Wawa where Ella stopped contacted Jessica, promising to alert her if the ring was found there. The Virginia Department of Transportation’s Facebook page received an influx of comments asking them to search for the ring at the rest stop where Ella Kalin stopped; the Department did not respond.

However, the ring had never left the restaurant. Employees at the Back Door found the ring Sunday and made a Facebook post Monday morning asking their followers to spread the news to help find the ring’s owner. Marya Logan is the follower who recognized the possible connection to the viral post about the missing ring. She contacted Jess Kalin and sent her the Back Door’s post. Jess confirmed the ring must be her sister’s.

Betty Sorochman went to the restaurant to reclaim the ring, which she will return to Ella. The ring originally belonged to Sorochman’s daughter Kimberly, Jess and Ella’s mother. Kimberly (Sorochman) Kalin passed away in 2019. Sorochman says she would love the story of the lost and found ring. “Kimmie loved a good story, so it’s only fitting now there’s one about her ring,” Sorochman says. “And she always said most people want to help, so if she found out how many people stepped in to help find her ring, she’d say, ‘See, I knew it’.”