#all i know is that it was long and frustrating and the word makes me shudder years later

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 this is awkward..

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r and james speaking is 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝔂 inspired by gilbert confessing that he wants anne so effing bad bc he 𝓯𝔀 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂, lowkey dont hate me for making the “dreams” u want so like…. I just didn't know what to do bc like idk smh i set back women 50 years by that

a/n: tysm for all the love on this series!! y’all are NOT ready for the next chapter, writing it rn and 😭🙏 BUTTT tysm for 300🫶🫶 also I finished the last chapter... do y'all want me to post it today or edge y'all and post it tomorrow

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It was now nearing the end of the school year—even if there was still a month to go. James could now be in the same room as you without glaring daggers at whoever you were talking to. Though he told himself he was over you, he knew deep down that the feelings never faded.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he was fine. And yet, every time he caught sight of you, every time your laughter reached his ears from across the room, it was as if someone had set fire to his resolve.

He wanted to talk to you so badly it was almost pathetic. But it was like the universe itself was conspiring against him—or, more specifically, like Finn Laurier had developed some sort of sixth sense for James’s intentions.

Because every single time James gathered enough courage, every time he braced himself to walk over to you, Finn would appear out of nowhere. Whether it was in the Great Hall, the library, or even during Quidditch practice, Finn always seemed to materialize by your side at precisely the wrong moment, stealing away your attention and leaving James feeling like the outsider in his own story.

It was infuriating.

“Mate, you’re grinding your teeth,” Sirius remarked casually one afternoon as they sat under the beech tree by the lake.

James startled, realizing with some embarrassment that Sirius was right. He quickly unclenched his jaw and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m just…”

“Just what?” Sirius prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” James lied, though his voice betrayed him.

Sirius gave him a knowing look. “If this is about her again, just—”

“It’s not about her,” James interrupted quickly, though he winced as the words left his mouth. He knew Sirius wouldn’t believe him, and he wasn’t sure he even believed himself anymore.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “Prongs, you’re going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up. Just talk to her already.”

“I’ve tried!” James snapped, louder than he intended. He lowered his voice and added, “I’ve tried, but every bloody time, Finn shows up. It’s like he’s got a bloody tracker on her or something.”

Remus, who had been quietly reading nearby, finally chimed in. “You know, maybe you’re overthinking this,” he said, not looking up from his book.

“How could I possibly be overthinking this?” James demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Maybe Finn’s not doing it on purpose,” Remus suggested calmly. “Maybe it’s just bad timing.”

“Bad timing?” James repeated incredulously. “Bad timing doesn’t happen this often, Moony. This is a pattern.”

Remus gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue further.

James leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He hated how much this was bothering him. He hated how much control this entire situation had over him.

But most of all, he hated the thought that you might actually be happy with Finn.

It wasn’t that he thought Finn was a bad guy—quite the opposite, really. Finn was charming, talented, and annoyingly good at everything he did. He was the kind of guy parents adored, the kind of guy professors went out of their way to praise. And worst of all, he was the kind of guy who could make you smile in a way James had only dreamed of.

James opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. “Maybe I should just give up,” he muttered.

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all day.”

“I’m serious,” James insisted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius quipped, smirking.

James groaned, throwing a small pebble in his direction. “Not the time for jokes.”

“Fine, fine,” Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, you’re not giving up. You’re James Potter, remember? Stubborn, arrogant, never-takes-no-for-an-answer James Potter. You don’t give up on things you care about.”

James hesitated, staring at the rippling water of the Black Lake. He wanted to believe Sirius. He wanted to believe that there was still a chance, that you weren’t as far out of reach as you seemed.

But as he watched you across the courtyard later that day, standing beside Finn and laughing at something he said, James couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was too late.

But his doubt soon melted into something far more unsettling when he noticed your gaze shift. For the first time in what felt like forever, your attention wasn’t on Finn Laurier—it was on him.

James felt like he might throw up.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his robes as he quickly looked away. In fact, he didn’t just look away; he turned his entire body in the opposite direction, hoping to mask the flush rising to his cheeks.

“C’mon, James, you’ve got a Quidditch game to win today! Channel all that anger you’ve got towards Laurier into winning us the Cup!” Sirius said, clapping a hand on James’s shoulder with his trademark grin.

James gave a faint nod, trying to let Sirius’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had to admit—focusing on Quidditch might be better than brooding.

As the match began, Sirius’s advice started to help. Flying through the air, the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins almost made him forget the mess he was tangled in. Quidditch always had a way of making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter.

Almost.

At first, he wasn’t paying much attention to the game. His mind wandered back to you, back to everything that had gone wrong. He thought about what he would say, how he could even begin to fix things. And, like always, he couldn’t resist scanning the crowd for you.

Even in the middle of a fight, even when he swore to himself that he was done, James always looked for you in the stands.

And he found you—right where he didn’t want to.

You were sitting with Finn Laurier, your hand clasped in his. James’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight, and he forced himself to look away, though the image burned into his mind.

Of course. Finn fucking Laurier.

He sighed, his grip tightening on his broomstick. There was no point in hoping anymore. Whatever chance he’d had—if he’d ever had one—was gone now. Maybe he’d already been downgraded in your life: a friend at best, a stranger at worst. The thought stung, and James shoved it down, refusing to dwell on it any longer.

And then, something golden caught the corner of his eye.

The Snitch.

For the first time all game, James’s focus snapped into place. He leaned forward on his broom, his heart pounding—not from heartbreak this time, but from the sheer rush of competition. If nothing else, he could still win this. He could still bring home the Cup.

James shot after the Snitch with everything he had, the rush of wind against his face only fueling his determination. The crowd roared, but their voices blurred into the background. His world narrowed to one thing: the golden glimmer darting just ahead.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was hot on his trail, but James barely registered them. This was his moment. The Snitch veered sharply to the right, and James followed, his reflexes razor-sharp. He could feel the weight of his emotions—anger, heartbreak, frustration—all pouring into this chase.

The Snitch dipped low, skimming just above the grass, and James dove after it, his fingers outstretched. The Hufflepuff Seeker was closing in fast, but James didn’t care. He pushed his broom harder, faster, his body leaning forward so much it felt like he might fall off.

And then, his fingers closed around the Snitch.

The Gryffindor stands erupted into cheers, deafening and jubilant. The sound echoed across the pitch as James pulled up, the Snitch held high in triumph. For the first time all week, a genuine smile broke across his face.

He’d done it.

Back on the ground, his teammates swarmed him, yelling and celebrating as they lifted him off the ground in a flurry of hugs and pats on the back. Sirius was the loudest, of course, laughing as he shouted, “That’s my best mate! Did you see that dive? Bloody brilliant!”

James grinned, allowing himself to soak in the moment. But as the initial adrenaline rush faded, his thoughts drifted back to you.

Through the crowd, he spotted you walking toward the castle with Laurier. You looked happy—laughing at something Finn said, your hand still in his.

James’s chest tightened, the pain creeping back in.

Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders. “Oi, don’t let that git ruin your moment. You just won us the Cup, Prongs. Focus on that, yeah?”

James forced a nod, plastering a smile on his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

But deep down, as the team carried him back to the common room, the ache lingered. Winning the match had been a distraction, but it wasn’t enough to erase what he felt for you—or the sting of seeing you with someone else.

Still, James promised himself one thing: he’d get through this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. And who knew? Maybe, someday, you’d see him the way he saw you.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

The Gryffindor common room was a chaotic blur of red and gold, filled with triumphant cheers and laughter. The moment the team returned from the pitch, the party was already in full swing. Someone had charmed a banner to flash "Gryffindor Wins the Cup!" in shimmering letters, and butterbeer bottles floated around the room, courtesy of a cheeky charm from Sirius.

James stood in the center of it all, grinning as his teammates and housemates patted him on the back and congratulated him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in the glory of the victory, letting it drown out the knot in his chest. He’d won the game, and Gryffindor had the Cup—he deserved to enjoy it.

“Prongs!” Sirius yelled over the noise, shoving a butterbeer into his hand. “You’re the man of the hour! You better milk this for all it’s worth, because Merlin knows you deserve it.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let me hear you say that too often, Padfoot. I might start believing it.”

Sirius gave him a devilish grin. “Oh, you will. Now, c’mon, let’s make some noise!” He climbed onto a table, raising his bottle high. “To Prongs, our Quidditch hero!”

The room erupted in cheers, and James couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of his butterbeer as the noise washed over him. For the first time all day, he felt lighter.

As the party went on, James moved through the crowd, chatting and laughing with his housemates. But no matter how loud the celebration got, his eyes kept drifting to the door, half-hoping, half-dreading to see you walk in.

And then, you did.

James froze mid-conversation, his heart doing that familiar stutter-step it always did when he saw you. You looked radiant, wrapped in Gryffindor colors, your cheeks flushed from the cold. But his chest tightened when he noticed Laurier trailing behind you, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.

James quickly turned back to his conversation, forcing a smile and pretending not to notice. He wasn’t going to let Finn Laurier—or his own stupid feelings—ruin the night.

“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius said, appearing at his side again. “Stop moping and do something fun. We just won the bloody Cup, mate! At least pretend you’re having the time of your life.”

James forced another grin. “I am having fun, Padfoot. Loads of fun.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You’re staring at her again, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” James lied, taking a long sip of butterbeer.

Sirius groaned, grabbing James by the shoulders. “Look, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stop torturing yourself, and you’re going to have a bloody fantastic time tonight. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll prank Laurier so hard he won’t know which way is up. Deal?”

James couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Alright, deal.”

Hours later, the party was still going strong. Someone had turned the music up, and the common room had transformed into a dance floor. James found himself dragged into the middle of it by Lily Evans, who gave him a pointed look.

“Stop sulking, Potter,” she said, smirking. “You just won the Cup. Act like it.”

“I’m not sulking,” James said, though his half-hearted smile gave him away.

Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she tugged him into the rhythm of the music, and for a while, James let himself get lost in the moment.

It wasn’t until he caught sight of you again, laughing at something Laurier said, that the knot in his chest returned. He took a deep breath, plastered on another smile, and decided that, for tonight, he’d keep pretending.

He watched you from across the room as you and Laurier continued talking, laughter bubbling between you two. He could see the way you looked at him now—so different from the way you looked at him before. It was like there was a barrier, a wall that hadn’t been there when he first met you.

“Prongs,” Sirius appeared at his side again, his voice low and concerned. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is ridiculous. You’re letting Laurier ruin your night—and you just won us the Cup, for Merlin’s sake. You’re allowed to be happy tonight. So go talk to her. If you don’t, I swear I’ll do it for you.”

James frowned at him, irritated. “I’m not talking to her, Pads. Not now.”

“Then at least get out of here and enjoy yourself,” Sirius pressed. “We’re celebrating, mate. You’ve earned it.”

James looked over at you one more time, and for a second, he almost gave in. But the knot in his chest was still there, tightly wound, and it made everything feel so much harder than it should’ve been.

But maybe... maybe he could find a way to feel better. Maybe he could lose himself in the celebration.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally muttered, glancing at his friends.

Sirius didn’t seem convinced but let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go off and brood in some corner. The whole bloody school’s celebrating with you tonight.”

James smirked faintly, feeling a little lighter. Maybe he could pretend to be okay, at least for tonight. He could let the victory, the laughter, and his friends drown out the ache for just a little while longer.

But as the night continued, and as the music played on, James found himself once again looking toward the doorway, hoping—just hoping—that you’d look his way.

For the first time in forever, the world was finally on his side as he saw you quickly leaving Finn and walking straight to him.

“May I speak to you, please?” James nodded, Dumbfounded. 

You quickly grabbed his hand and went outside the common room and into the corridors. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers twisting nervously. “James… I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

James’s throat went dry, his pulse quickening as he struggled to find his voice. “Yeah?”

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “I—I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what he had expected. Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his head, an apology hadn’t been one of them.

“For what?” he asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice.

“For everything,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “For avoiding you. I was confused—about what I did that made you ignore me. And I guess I wanted to get back at you for ignoring me, so I decided to do the same to you. And… I’m sorry for whatever happened between us that made things so weird.”

James stared at you, your vulnerability hitting him like a Bludger to the chest. His heart ached at the uncertainty in your voice.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quickly, shaking his head.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the tears welling in your eyes.

“No, you don’t,” James countered, his tone soft yet resolute. “It’s not fair to put all of this on yourself. You’ve always been there for me, and I—well, I’ve been a terrible friend lately. I was practically acting like you didn’t exist.”

James faltered when he saw the blank expression on your face. Panic flickered in his chest—had he said too much?

But before he could say anything more, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

“Oh, James,” you murmured into his shoulder. “It’s okay. I—I was acting like you didn’t exist too, but only because you were doing it to me.”

He blinked, caught off guard, before slowly relaxing into the hug. He looked down at you, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush away a stray tear trailing down your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You shook your head, a small, watery smile breaking through. “We’re both sorry. Let’s just… not do this anymore, okay?”

James nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Deal.”

“It feels so much better having my best friend around again.” James’ smile faltered again, he never liked the word “best friend” when it came to you, he always wanted more.

“Definitely”

You two let each other talk for what felt like hours even though it was barely fifteen minutes. He enjoyed every second though, until you brought up Finn and future plans they may include him. He couldn't believe it, when had your parents met his? He remembers your dad telling him how much he was rooting you and him to be together, now he's okay with you dating some other dude? And worst of all, your father was okay with that same dude wanting to marry his daughter? James felt like throwing up.

“Then he said that my father laid it out on a silver platter.”

“Laid... what out on a platter?”

“My future! Gave him the blessing to...to propose. I don't know what to do.”

“You told me you don’t mind being married straight after Hogwarts if you truly loved the man. That being a wife and mother... is your dream. Finn is.. nice, and both of your guys’ parents are supportive. I don't understand. What's holding you back?”

“Just… one thing.”

“What am I supposed to do? Everyone else is just... moving on, and now you’re... and I’m still... We never even... And he’s there, and you’re—Merlin, you’re never going to find someone who—” James stopped, his voice cracking. “I know that much, so how... how am I supposed to... I can’t... I— We...”

Before you could speak–a drunk Sirius somehow found you two. “Woah James you're really speaking to her? Atta boy, now, let's get back to the party, cmon, we are going to do something cool, have you heard of ....” Sirius rambled on, tugging on James’ arm to drag him back to the party.

“I’ll be off, then.” You said, voice quivering as if hesitant to leave.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

All James could think about was the previous night—the talk you two had shared. Your words, your voice, the hesitation in your eyes—it all replayed in his mind like a haunting melody. What would’ve happened if Sirius hadn’t barged in, if James had told him to leave, if he’d been brave enough to stay in that moment with you?

“I think…” James began, his voice breaking as he paced the Gryffindor dormitory, “I think she might’ve been asking if I love her. And—and I think I told her to marry someone else.”

Sirius, slouched in the chair by the window, looked stricken. “Mate…” he started, his tone heavy with guilt. “If I’d known—if I knew what was happening—I wouldn’t have gone looking for you. I—I practically ruined your chances. Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”

James stopped pacing, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she meant it. She said so much without really saying anything, and now I don’t know if I imagined it all.”

“‘Sure, take option two,’ when option one is all she wants for her future?” James muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

“What is option one?” Peter asked, his curiosity breaking the tension.

James scoffed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “It’s Finn, obviously.” He paused, his anger flaring. “But both their parents support it, and she told me that! Before she spilled all of that on me, we were talking and laughing like nothing was wrong. But now…” He exhaled sharply, his voice softening as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Now it feels like I’m being asked to explain the rest of my life on a bloody ticking clock. And if I make the wrong decision, I’ve either ruined my life—or hers.”

The room fell silent. Sirius and Peter exchanged uneasy glances, while Remus seemed lost in thought, unsure of how to respond.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Meanwhile, you had confided in your mother about your plans the night before: to finally tell the man you truly loved how you felt. You hadn’t wanted to bring it up while you and James were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, but you knew if you didn’t seize the moment, you’d never say it at all.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to turn you down. To tell you—calmly, almost dismissively—that you should marry Finn.

Your mother was waiting for your response. You knew she expected good news, a letter confirming that you and James were finally together. Instead, you sat at your desk, penning words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Dear Mother,

I did what you told me to do, but I fear I shouldn’t have. We were talking just fine, and then I told him everything. I told him how I felt. And he told me to marry Finn.

Finn is lovely, yes—but he’s not James. I asked James if there was any chance for us, and he said no. At least now I have clarity on where I stand with him. And I know it sounds awful to compare Finn to James, but... maybe knowing what I know now, I can learn to be happy with Finn. Father and Finn’s family are all thrilled, after all. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done if James had said he felt the same.

You sighed, folding the parchment carefully and sealing it in an envelope. The weight of your words sat heavily on your chest, but you couldn’t dwell on them any longer. You needed to send this letter immediately.

Pulling on your cloak, you found yourself heading for one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade—the ones you and James had used so often. The memories stung, but you pushed them aside. This time, you’d be using the passage alone.

The quickest way to deliver your letter was through the owlery. You knew exactly which owl was the fastest.

As you walked, you let your mind wander to James one last time, allowing yourself the quiet ache of what could’ve been. You would never speak to him again, not like before. That part of your life was over.

Finn was your future now. And while it hurt to admit, deep down, you knew it was for the best.

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[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi can you do a fic where y/n buckys fiancé who is also a winter soldier but has telepathic powers and teleportation abilities gets kidnapped and reprogrammed again and they have to fight her to snap her out of it and it ends with smut and y/n finding out she is pregnant with twins a boy and girl?

Forever After » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Fiancée/Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to be planning a wedding, but you get kidnapped and reprogrammed again. Not too long after Bucky gets you back, you two find out you’re pregnant with twins.

Warning: Fluff, little bit of Angst, Smut (18+), language, Winter Soldier!reader, pregnant!reader, enhanced!reader, HYDRA, kidnapping, sweet/dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Hey. Have any of you seen Y/N?” Bucky asks as he walks in the lounge room.

“Not since this morning. Why?” Steve says.

“Her and I are supposed to go over more details of our wedding, but she’s not answering any of my calls or texts.” He says.

“Her phone probably died or something.” Natasha says.

“Probably. I hope that’s all it is.” He says.

Meanwhile, you regained consciousness in the lab where you first developed your telepathic powers and teleportation abilities. You already know this couldn’t be good. HYDRA is the ones who tested those powers and abilities on you. Since you can’t call or text Bucky with your phone, you decided to try to send a signal to him by using your telepathic powers. You took a deep breath and gave it a try.

“Bucky, I’m in trouble. HYDRA found me and kidnapped me. Please hurry.” You said.

Bucky stopped in his tracks when he felt something. It was the signal from you, telling him that HYDRA kidnapped you and you need help. Bucky’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He quickly changed into his mission suit and got his gun and knife.

“I’m on my way, doll.” Bucky says to himself.

You were tugging at the restrains to get free, but it was no use. They were too tight and there was no way you were getting out of them any time soon.

“You’re awake!” A familiar voice said.

You looked up to see the HYDRA scientist who tested on you. Your eyes widened.

“What do you want from me?” You asked.

“To reprogram you.” He answers. “I see you haven’t been using your powers and abilities to how I programed you.” He says.

“I’m not using my powers and abilities to do your dirty work anymore.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Not yet, but you will.” He replies. “Starting with your fiancée, Sergeant James Barnes who’s also known as the Winter Soldier.” He says.

“No. Please don’t make me do that!” You begged.

“Too bad. You don’t have a choice.” He says.

He sat down at the table across from you, opening up your file. Your eyes widened. You tugged at the restrains again.

“There’s no use in tugging at the restrains. You’re strapped down good.” He says.

You groaned and huffed in frustration, tilting your head back. The only thing on your mind is if Bucky is on his way to you.

Your head shot back up when the HYDRA scientist started reading the trigger words that turns you into the person you aren’t anymore… the Winter Soldier. You’re not the same Winter Soldier as Bucky was. You’re a Winter Soldier with powers and abilities.

“No!” You shouted as he continued reading the trigger words. “Please!” You begged.

You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your hands into fists. No matter what you tried to do, you couldn’t get out of this. After he read all of the trigger words, your eyes glowed blue. The scientist smiles in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to know that those words still work on you.” He grins.

The scientist pushed your file aside and stood up, grabbing a piece of paper and the key to the restrains. He unlocked the restrains and took them off of your arms and legs. You slowly stood up in front of him.

“Ready to comply.” You said obediently.

“This man is your mission.” The scientist says, showing you a picture of Bucky.

“Yes, sir.” You replied.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. I’m assuming you contacted him with your telepathic powers earlier.” He says.

You nodded your head.

“You know what to do when he gets here.” He says.

As if it were on cue, Bucky busted down the door. He felt relieved to see you. He immediately walked to you, stopping in his tracks when he saw your eyes glow blue and your signature grin form on your face. His eyes widened. He hasn’t seen that grin in a while and you haven’t used your powers and abilities in a while either. Bucky grabbed the scientist by his white lab coat and slammed him up against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to my fiancée?!” Bucky growls.

“Reprogrammed her for what she’s meant to do.” The scientist says, grinning evilly.

Bucky growls again and knocked him out with a punch to his face. He dropped him on the floor and turned his attention to you.

“Doll…” Bucky’s voice sounded calm and cautious. “You don’t need to do this.” He says softly.

“Don’t do what?” You asked, tilting your head a bit.

Bucky already knew this wasn’t going to end good.

“Doll, please.” He pleads softly.

“Doll isn’t here anymore. The Winter Soldier is though and she’ll like to have a little talk.” You say.

Bucky’s breathing got shaky for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Please don’t make me fight you.” He pleads.

“Too bad you don’t get a choice, Soldat.” You say, walking towards him.

Bucky cringes when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a long time.

“You look scared, Soldat.” You say, playfully pouting at him.

“I’m not scared.” Bucky says.

“So if I read your mind, you won’t be lying?” You asked.

“No. I have nothing to hide from you.” He says honestly.

“Oh yea?” You raised your eyebrows. “What about a certain mission you did in 1991?” You asked.

Bucky gulped and his jaw clenched when you said that. You rose your hand up to his head so you could read his mind, but he grabbed your arm before you could.

“Stop it.” Bucky almost whispers. “I don’t want to fight you.” He says.

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna lose?” You tauntingly asked.

“I don’t lose.” He says confidently.

“Then fight me.” You say.

“No.” He says.

You chuckled lowly before throwing a punch at him, hitting his jaw and catching him off guard.

“C’mon, Soldat. It’ll be fun.” You say.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says again.

“Ok then.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

You opened a teleportation portal and stepped in it, turning around and waving at Bucky. The portal took you to a different room in the base. Bucky jumped in the portal before it closed, tackling you to the groan. You groaned when you hit the ground. He pinned your arms to the floor above your head so you didn’t try anything.

Bucky knows if he keeps denying you, you’ll keep provoking him into fighting you. He doesn’t want to fight you, but he has no choice. He thinks if he fights you, he might be able to break through the programming and get your normal self back. He might as well give it his all.

“You wanna fight, doll? Let’s fight.” Bucky finally says.

“That’s more like it.” You say with a grin.

You kneed him in his stomach to get him off of you. You stood you as Bucky groaned in pain. He stood up a few seconds after you did. You approached Bucky, tilting your head slightly.

“I know what you fear.” You whispered.

“I don’t fear anything.” Bucky says.

“Oh really?” You asked, putting your hand against his forehead to read his mind. “You fear that if you don’t get me to break through the programming, you’ll lose your fiancée forever and you won’t get you forever after with her.” You say, reading his mind.

Bucky growls and smacked your hand away.

“Stop it.” Bucky growls, gritting his teeth.

“Loosing your fiancée is your worst nightmare and you’ll slip back into your old ways as the Winter Soldier.” You say.

Bucky’s jaw clenched when you said that. He grabbed you, slammed you against the wall. You yelped in surprise.

“Shut up!” He shouts. “Never fucking say that again.” He says.

Loosing you is his worst nightmare, but he wouldn’t slip back into his old ways as the Winter Soldier.

“Did I touch a nerve?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

Bucky put his vibranium hand around your throat, but didn’t squeeze. He just stared in your eyes, searching for any sign of your normal self. His hand let go of your throat. What he did next surprised himself. He kicked your feet out from under you to the ground, his eyes widening when you hit your head on the wall. You didn’t go unconscious so that’s a good sign, but you did have a confused look on your face. He didn’t want to do that to you. He just wanted the taunting to stop and for you to break through the programming.

“Doll, I-I-I didn’t mean to do that.” Bucky stutters, crouching down next to you.

“I-I’m fine.” You said softly, followed by a small whimper. “Can you take me home please?” You asked.

“Of course.” He murmurs, picking you up bridal style.

Later that day after you and Bucky got back to the Avengers compound, you two took a shower and put comfortable clothes on.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized in a whisper.

“You don’t need to apologize, doll.” Bucky says softly.

“Yes I do. I tried to use your worst nightmare against you and I brought up that one mission.” You say.

“It’s completely fine, doll. I understand. You weren’t your normal self.” He says.

Your eyes flickered down to Bucky’s lips. You leaned toward him, kissing him softly and passionately. Bucky’s right hand caressed your cheek gently. Your hands grasped onto his shoulders. He gently laid you back on the bed and hovered over you. His vibranium hand went underneath your -his- shirt. You shivered, feeling the cool vibranium against your skin.

“Bucky…” You say breathlessly.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky asks, moving his lips down to your neck.

“I want you.” You tell him.

Bucky pulled away from your neck to take off your -his- shirt, revealing your braless breast to him. He dipped his head back down, kissing your neck again. His teeth nipped at your skin, marking you up. He repeated those same actions as he moved his lips down your body.

Bucky’s hands gently caressed your curves. His lips pressed soft kisses down your body, stopping just above the waistband of your sleep shorts. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips so he could pull them down, pulling down your panties and shorts down in one go.

“My doll is so gorgeous.” Bucky murmurs softly, making you blush.

Bucky stood up, taking off his clothes. His cock is hard and leaking with precum. You voluntarily spread your legs. He got in between them, his hands gently rubbing the top of your thighs. Bucky leaned down, kissing you passionately.

Bucky reached a hand down in between the two of you, wrapping his hand around his cock. He stroked it a few times before lining it at your wet entrance. He slowly slid his cock in your pussy. Soft and satisfied moans left yours and his lips.

Bucky put his forearms against the bed on either side of your head, caging you in between his strong arms. You reached your hands up to hold his. You intertwined your fingers with his.

His thrusts were soft and loving. Your head rolled back against the pillows, enjoying the feeling of your fiancée’s cock inside of you. Soft moans of his name left your lips.

Bucky dipped his head down and kissed along the column of your throat, not leaving any part of your skin not kissed. A soft satisfied hum left your lips when his stubble scratched your skin. That’s one of your favorite feelings from Bucky.

“Bucky…” You say more in a whine.

“I got you, doll.” Bucky whispers softly.

“More please.” You begged softly.

Bucky increased the pace of his thrusts. His thrusts are still loving. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together against his back. Your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the pleasure you were receiving from your fiancée.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You said breathlessly.

“I love you so much to, babydoll.” Bucky whispers.

You managed to get your hands out from Bucky’s hands and gently grabbed his face, pulling him down for a passionate and hungry kiss. You two moaned against each other’s lips. Your hands found their way to his head, carding your fingers through his soft dark brown hair. Bucky moans against your lips. He loves it when you play with his hair in any way. Your fingers tugging on his hair urged him on. Bucky thrusted faster, his cock immediately finding that one spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You moaned.

Your moans are like music to Bucky’s ears. You tucked your face against the crook of Bucky’s neck. You kissed his neck and nipped at his skin, marking him up.

Bucky wrapped his right arm around your waist while his vibranium hand held the sheets tightly. He increased the speed of his thrusts once more. That made you want him even more. Your hands grasped onto his biceps, digging your nails in his skin and the vibranium.

“Fuck, doll…” Bucky moans. “Such a good girl.” He praises softly.

You moaned at his praise. You love it when he praises you.

Bucky’s right arm left your waist and went in between the two of you. Your hips jolted against his hips and his hand when you felt his fingers on your clit. His fingers rubbed your clit in circles.

“Oh god, yes, Bucky!” You moaned, throwing your head back against the pillows.

Your orgasm began to build up faster than you liked. So did Bucky’s. His thrusts became sloppy, but he regained rhythm.

“I can feel you getting close, doll.” Bucky said breathlessly. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks.

“You hummed and nodded your head in response.

“Cum for me, babydoll. I’m close too.” He pants, rubbing your clit a bit faster.

The coil inside of you snapped. You moaned Bucky’s name loudly as you came. Bucky gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm.

“That’s a good girl.” Bucky pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He moans.

Bucky came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a stop and he pulled out of you, laying down next to you. You moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest and putting your thigh on top of his. Bucky’s vibranium hand held onto your knee, rubbing his vibranium thumb against your skin.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” You murmured softly, caressing his stubbly cheek.

“I can’t wait to marry you too, doll.” Bucky says softly, kissing your hand.

———

You’re standing in the bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test that has two pink lines on it. You and Bucky have been married for a few months and you’re finding out you’re pregnant with yours and his first child.

“Holy shit…” You mumbled in shock, staring at a positive pregnancy test. “Bucky, babe! Come here!” You shouted.

Bucky ran to the bathroom as fast as he could, almost tripping over his own feet.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Bucky asks frantically.

You didn’t say anything. You smiled widely and showed him the positive pregnancy test.

“Holy shit…” He mumbles in shock. “You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby? We’re going to be parents?” He asks.

“Yes!” You confirmed.

Bucky picked you up, hugging you tightly.

“We’re going to be parents!” He said happily. “Let’s go tell everyone!” He says.

Bucky held your hand as you two walked to the lounge room where all of the Avengers are.

“We have amazing news.” Bucky says with a huge smile on his face.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to you and Bucky, waiting for you guys to tell them what the amazing news is.

“I’m pregnant!” You tell them, holding up the positive pregnancy test.

Everyone cheered and congratulated you two, giving you two hugs.

———

“Would you two like to know the genders of your babies?” The doctor asks, looking from you to Bucky.

“Babies?” You and Bucky say in union and surprise.

“You’re having twins!” She smiles.

Yours and Bucky’s eyes teared up. Bucky leaned down, kissing your lips softly. Bucky looks in your eyes and nods at you, wanting to know the genders of yours and his twin babies.

“Yes, we would like to know the genders of our babies.” You tell her.

“Twin A is a boy and twin B is a girl.” She tells you two. “Congratulations!” She smiles, giving you and Bucky the ultrasound pictures.

You and Bucky had smiles on your faces the whole car ride to the compound. You two were so excited and happy that you guys had to tell everyone.

“Hey! How was the doctor’s appointment?” Steve asks.

“We’re having twins!” Bucky tells everyone, holding up the ultrasound pictures. “Twin A is a boy and twin B is a girl!” He says excitedly.

Everyone stared at you and Bucky in surprise and gave you two hugs, congratulating you two.

“Can I tell Steve the other amazing news?” You asked, whispering to Bucky.

“Go ahead, doll.” Bucky smiles.

Steve looks from Bucky to you, waiting for the other amazing news.

“Me and Bucky have been talking about it and we want you to be the godfather to our twins.” You tell him.

“Wh-What?” Steve asks, making sure he heard you right.

“You’re the godfather of our babies, punk.” Bucky tells him, patting his shoulder.

“I’m honored to your babies’ godfather.” Steve says, hugging both of you.

Later that day, you and Bucky went home and spent the rest of the night trying to come up with baby names for yours and his twins.

“I feel like the names we’re coming up with are too basic.” Bucky says.

“Yea.” You agree. “What about we name our son after you and our daughter after your sister?” You suggested, tapping your fingers against your pregnant belly.

“You want to name our babies after me and my sister?” He asks, tearing up.

You smiled and nodded your head yes.

“I would love nothing more than to name our babies James Jr and Rebecca.” He says, smiling widely.

“It’s settled! James Jr and Rebecca will be our babies names!” You say happily.

Bucky kisses you passionately. You two smiled against each other’s lips.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky whispers against your lips.

“I love you too, sweetie.” You whispered back.

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, looking in your eyes with the look of adoration in his eyes. You two finally have your forever after.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[burningembers91]

The Baby Shower - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare Gunpowder and Lace Like a Dog Three Little Words

Synopsis: While attending your friend's baby shower, The Salesman can't help but think about what it would be like to have a family of his own. But how could he be a loving father, when the only person he's ever cared about is you?

He disliked social events, detested having to made idle conversation with people he didn’t have any interest in. The mindless small talk drove him to the brink of insanity, the idea of having to talk about cars, jobs, and how much people paid for their watches was enough to give him an aneurysm. He’d managed to avoid needless social interaction for most of his life, but now that he had you, necessity required he dip his toes into the world of dinner parties, social gatherings and idle chit chat.

As much as he loathed talking to anyone who wasn’t you, he loved you more, and he’d walked across broken glass if you told him to. “It’s only for a few hours,” you smiled, zipping up your form hugging dress. “I know you hate these things, but she is my bestfriend after all.” You knew how much he hated attending parties with you, and you felt bad for making him go. You told him that you didn’t mind if he stayed at home, but staying at home wasn’t an option for him. He needed to be close to you, a loyal dog sticking by his mistress. He couldn’t stand to be away from you, even for a minute, so he’d brave the party, just for you. Everything he did nowadays was all for you. “When we get back, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you whispered, smirking at him slyly in the mirror.

He was instantly hard, the list of desires he had too long to play out in his head. You always let him take charge when you got home from a party, always allowed him to punish you for the mundane torture he’d endured surrounded by your friends. “You’ll regret saying that,” he smiled, coming to stand behind you, his hands trailing up your body to the delicate curve of your neck. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, a small moan of pleasure escaping you as his hand gently closed around your throat. “I’ve never regretted letting you punish me,” you whispered, you hand snaking behind you to gently grip his growing erection. You were locked in a stalemate, both you desperate to tease the other, to see who would break first.

“Why don’t you let me punish you now,” he growled into your ear, his teeth grazing the soft, sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I could let you attend the party with my handprints on your ass. Maybe I’ll make you walk around with no underwear on while I drip from that pretty little pussy of yours.” You were so close to relenting, to letting him have his way. But you didn’t have time to play now, you were already late. “You’ll just have to be patient,” you smiled sweetly, squeezing his aching bulge between your grasp a little tighter. He moaned into you, his face buried in your hair as your fingers worked him through his suit. Your touch was his drug, the one thing he craved more than anything in the world. “More,” he grunted, pushing himself further into your touch. His hips bucked against your hand; his eyes fixed on yours in the mirror as he chased his high. “Later,” you whispered, pulling your hand away. He groaned in frustration, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. “We need to get going,” you told him, grabbing your purse from its hook on the back of the bedroom door. “I can’t be late to my best friend’s baby shower.”

The party was just as dire as he’d expected, everyone laughing and chatting about the prospect of their friends’ becoming parents. He’d never felt paternal before, had never understood the fascination with bringing a child into the world. He did his duty, plastering a smile on his face, asking your friends about their jobs and their families. But then he noticed you, your hands proudly cupping your friends growing baby belly, the two of you lost in conversation. Something stirred within him, some carnal desire he’d never felt before.

He pictured you with a growing baby bump, your hands pressed to your lower back as you looked lovingly down at your belly. He imagined his hands cupping your bump protectively as you fell asleep each night, of placing soft, sweet kisses on your stretchmark covered stomach. You’d be a wonderful mother, so caring and kind. But what kind of father would he be? He wasn’t capable of loving anyone or anything other than you. He tried to push the thought from his mind, convincing himself it was just residual desire leftover from the moment in the bedroom. And yet the thoughts persisted. Thoughts of you bringing a baby home, of cradling the tiny life in your hands as you sat by the window. He was getting angry now, the incessant images of you caring for his baby weaving their way into the fibres of his brain. He couldn’t risk bringing a baby into the world, not when he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love it.

That night, he was extra rough when he punished you. He forced you to your knees, fucking your throat with his aching, hard cock until tears streamed down your face. He bent you over the bed, spanking you until your skin turned red. He fucked you into the mattress, your face buried in the pillows as he took his frustration out on your tight, dripping core.

But after the punishment, when he’d returned to being your faithful little dog, the thoughts resumed. Thoughts of you growing his baby, thoughts of walks through the park with a stroller, of nighttime feeds and days out at soft play. The baby would be part of you both, your combined DNA. But he couldn’t choose what parts of him the baby inherited. Would they be as cold and callous as he was? Would they get kicks out of torturing and taking the lives of innocent people? Would they grow up to be just as evil as their father?

He didn’t sleep that night, his mind whirling as his thoughts consumed him. He stared down at you as you slept, your soft body pressed against his. He had no doubt you’d be a great mother.

But what kind of father would he be if he felt nothing for the life he helped create?

[melosliving]

I have a request. First real hook up session with Aaron. Just sexy sexy making out, grabbing and etc. Both breathless. Nothing much

so sorry for the delay !!!! I felt free to begin the ask with an argument, I hope you’ll like it bb !

Aaron pierre x reader

warnings : argument, heavy make out session, sexy sexy

The argument had been brewing all day, and you’d finally had enough. Aaron leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders tense, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. He hadn’t said much during dinner, just short responses and sharp glances, and you could only take so much of the passive-aggressive energy.

“Do you have a problem, Aaron?” you snapped, slamming the cabinet door shut after grabbing a glass. You filled it with water, taking a moment to steady yourself before you turned to face him. “You’ve been in a mood all damn day. If something’s wrong, just say it.”

He scoffed, a short, humorless sound that immediately set your teeth on edge. “It’s Aaron now ? It’s not like you’d actually listen, though, is it?” His British accent made the words sound calm on the surface, but the sharp edge in his tone cut deep.

You froze, your glass pausing halfway to your lips. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what I said,” he bit out, his eyes narrowing as they met yours. “You’re always so quick to jump in with your opinions. Can’t ever just let me talk without getting defensive.”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. “Defensive? Aaron, you barely talk at all. You shut down, brood, and act like I’m supposed to read your damn mind. And I’m the problem?”

“Because every time I try to tell you something, you act like it’s my fault for even bringing it up!” His voice rose slightly as he pushed off the counter, his tall frame towering over you now. “It’s exhausting. I’m trying to have a real conversation with someone who won’t even meet me halfway.”

Wow. Your eyebrows shot up, your anger rising with every word. “Meet you halfway?” You slammed the glass down on the counter. “You never say what’s on your mind, Aaron! You hold everything in, and then when you finally let it out, you act like you’re doing me a favor.”

“And you don’t make it easy!” he shot back, stepping closer. The heat in his voice was matched by the intensity in his eyes. “Every time we argue, it’s like you’re trying to win. You don’t even stop to think about what I’m saying. It’s always about proving a point with you.”

“Because you make me feel like I have*to,” you fired back, the words coming faster now, fueled by the frustration bubbling over. “You walk around with this whole ‘I’m too cool to care’ act, and then the second I call you out on it, you flip the script and make it about me!”

His nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling as he stared you down. The air between you was thick, electric, like a storm about to break. “You think I don’t care?” he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I’m just walking around here not giving a shit about you, about us?”

“You sure as hell don’t act like it!” you shot back, your voice trembling now. “Half the time, I don’t even know what you’re thinking. You just shut me out, Aaron. And then you stand there and blame me for not knowing what’s going on with you.” There was a long pause, the two of you locked in a silent standoff. His jaw ticked as he stared at you, and you could feel your pulse pounding in your ears.

“You drive me mad,” he said finally, his voice rough. He took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on yours. “You push every single one of my buttons, and then you wonder why I can’t just sit here and smile like everything’s fine.”

“Maybe if you didn’t bottle everything up until you exploded, we wouldn’t have to argue like this,” you shot back, but your voice lacked the venom it had before. His presence was overwhelming, his warmth radiating off him as he closed the space between you.

“And maybe,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur as he stepped closer, “if you stopped trying to control every damn thing, you’d see how much I’m trying.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get a single word out, his hands were on your waist, pulling you into him as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hard, almost bruising, and it stole the breath right out of your lungs.

You froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then your body melted into his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened. His tongue slid against yours, hot and demanding, and a low groan rumbled in his chest when you tugged on his curls.

His hands slid down your waist to your hips, gripping tightly as he backed you against the counter. His body pressed firmly against yours, and you could feel the heat of him, the hard lines of his chest and the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Baby,” you whispered when his lips left yours to trail down your jaw and to your neck. The soft scrape of his beard sent a shiver down your spine, and your head tilted back, giving him more access.

“I’m baby again now ? What do you want ?” he murmured against your skin, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to grip the bare skin of your waist. His thumbs stroked slow, teasing circles, and your breath hitched as you arched into him. “We’re still arguing,” you managed, though your voice came out shaky.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rough in your ear. “Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear before biting down gently.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he lifted you onto the counter, his body slotting between your legs. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing your legs apart as his lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, like he had all the time in the world.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, his forehead resting against yours. His hands stayed on your thighs, warm and steady, grounding you.

“You make me crazy,” he admitted, his voice soft but raw. “You’re the one making me crazy,” you shot back, though your voice had no heat left.

His lips twitched into a small smile, his teeth still appearing as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your lips. “Guess we’re both mad, then.”

And as his lips met yours again, softer this time but no less consuming, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the heat of the moment and the undeniable pull between you.

@ melosliving 2025

[jaethaone]

Numb

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black F! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Some Suggestive Language, Angst.. That’s All, Slight Asshole Roman

A/N; It’s Honestly Taken Me Forever To Put Something Out Because I Haven’t Been Feeling My Writings 🙈, But I Hope You Guys Enjoy 🫶🏽

You and Roman had been together for four years. Four years together that had been a whirlwind that was exhilarating and heart-wrenching, sometimes simultaneously. The intensity of your relationship mirrored the explosive nature of the WWE universe itself. For a long time, you had embraced the chaos, the thrill of being as much in love with a superstar as you were with the man behind the persona. But love requires reciprocity, understanding—things that felt increasingly absent.

You felt as though you’re now walking a tangled path woven with love, pain, heartbreak, and an insatiable hope for change.

The air in the locker room felt heavy with unspoken tension, a tightrope stretched thin between You and Roman.

You felt like you were spiraling downwards. You were secretly proud of his achievements, but it felt like a parallel world now—a reality you could barely touch.

You sat on the edge of the bench, your fingers digging into the edges of the metal seat the only thing keeping you grounded, glancing up at Roman every few seconds.

Roman leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression a mask of indifference. The faint sounds of the arena buzzing beneath them seeped in, but it was a distant hum, like a memory of laughter he no longer cared to recall.

“Roman,” you started, your voice trembling slightly, “we need to talk.”

“Talk?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “What more is there to say? We’ve been through this.”

A sharp breath hitched in your throat. “You can’t just act like this is normal! You’ve cheated on me—again! How can you just stand there, arms crossed, like it doesn’t matter?”

He shrugged, a careless smirk playing on his lips. “You’re still here, aren’t you? You could have left anytime.”

“Stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife. “Just stop with the games. I’m done being hurt. I can’t keep doing this.”

“No, there’s no stop, because you know I’m right sweetheart.” He replied, the nickname that once gave you butterflies now making your stomach ache “You could have left the first time, I knew you were going to leave the second time, but where are you now… right here. So can we stop with the theatrics and just move to the part where I bend you over this couch and you forgive me.”

“No Roman” your heart racing as you fought back tears of frustration. “I can’t do this anymore! I’m done being hurt. You’re nothing but toxic, and I’m leaving … for real this time”

He rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall to close the distance between you. “You think you’re going to leave me? You’ve said that before. It’s just words.”

You stood, heart pounding like the crowd at WrestleMania, but this wasn’t a show. “ No! I’m done, Roman. I can’t keep doing this. I’ve stayed through the hurt and heartache, but you never learn. You always come crawling back with excuses, and I—a fool, am always here,” you spat, the words feeling both liberating and terrifying.

A fire ignited in your chest, anger mixing with hurt. “I mean it this time. I’m done. I deserve better than this.”

“Better?” He laughed, a deep, mocking sound that echoed in the small space. “You think you deserve better? Look around, Yn. You’re not going anywhere. You need me.”

“Need you? Or need the idea of you?” You shot back, your voice rising. “You’re not the man I fell in love with. You’ve become someone I barely recognize.”

Roman leaned into your space more, arms crossed, an unsettling indifference etched on his face. “You say that now, but we both know you’re not going anywhere,” he replied coolly, not even attempting to mask the boredom in his tone. It was a statement devoid of remorse—no pleas, no arguments. Just a calculated, toxic dismissal.

And You felt it; the hollow truth twisted within you despite your words. He was right. You had faltered before; in your heart, you had acknowledged the struggles countless times. Underneath all that bravado, this blow struck and you felt your heart splinter, the walls that had once protected it crumbling down. He was right, and the realization twisted like a knife in your gut. Why hadn’t you left?

This was a question not only you asked yourself countless times, but your friends also. Bewildered by your loyalty to someone who had brought you so much pain.

“You're better than this, Yn,” they urged, their concern evident in their voices.

“You deserve someone who respects you!”

Each time, you brushed it off, offering excuses for his behavior. But as you replayed the moments of hurt in your mind, the love that had once enveloped you had grown bitter, tainted by betrayal and neglect.

Numbness began to settle in, creeping over you like shadows at dusk. Each betrayal was a stone you carried, and you had grown accustomed to the weight.

With a shaky breath, you said nothing else, and walked past Roman, leaving his locker room. Tonight would became the silent goodbye you’d never vocalize.

Throughout the rest of the night, his words replayed over and over in your head, highlighting how his tone was almost dismissive, as though your pain held no value to him.

And In that moment, something inside you shifted. It was as if his words had stripped the very essence of your determination, leaving behind a cold, desolate emptiness. You felt numb, suddenly aware that he was right in a way. After enduring so much, you had lost the strength to fight, and He didn’t even know it.

As days went by & then days turned into weeks, you pulled away. You went through the motions of your daily lives, but the light in your eyes faded. You laughed but didn’t feel the joy. When you had the time to be home you cooked meals that went uneaten, and when you and Roman shared the same space, you were there but not really there—your laughter a façade, your smiles mere echoes of the person you once was.

You bid farewell to the emotional connections that had held you hostage all this time. You continued yourbroutine—getting ready for work, attending wrestling events, living your life in the background. But the spark was gone. You were here, physically, but mentally, you had withdrawn. The vibrant glow you once had was snuffed out, leaving a shadow of your former self.

For Roman, the change was palpable, but he mistook it for a development of maturity, perhaps a stoic acceptance of the realities of your guys tumultuous relationship. His world revolved around the ring, where battles were fierce and triumphs celebrated. He didn't realize the significant emotional loss he had endured until he caught glimmers of your stifled laughter, absent from its usual exuberance.

“Something’s off,” he confessed to his cousin Jimmy, one night backstage.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, “You mean besides the fact that you keep screwing things up?” Roman brushed off the comment, irritation sparking within him. “No, I mean… she’s not the same. She’s withdrawn. It’s like I’ve lost her.”

“Maybe you have Uce.”

Weeks turned into months as Roman tried to break through the wall you had built around your heart. He watched you at the events—your smile forced, your laughter distant, your once vivacious spirit now a mere shadow. He tried to connect over shared memories, but every attempt was met with a steely indifference.

One evening, after a show you guys were sitting in silence across from each other when he finally spoke.

Yn… we need to talk.”

He Sighed when he was met with nothing but silence, but he still pushed on.

“You’re… different.”

“When did you start caring?” You replied, your tone flat, the hurt etched into your very being. “It’s too late for that.”

“What’s going on with you?” He studied you intently for the first time in a long while, something almost resembling concern darkening his features.

“I’m just tired, Roman. I’m tired of being hurt and ignored. I thought you’d care more about us.”

You met his gaze, and for the first time, your walls slipped just a fraction, revealing the vulnerability beneath the numbness. “You have no idea what you’ve lost, do you?”

Realization washed over him like a cold wave. He had taken you for granted, always believing you would stay no matter how far he pushed you away. His heart sank as he understood the truth: he was losing you.

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I... I do care.”

“Caring isn’t enough anymore. You don’t even see me anymore.” You fought the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, refusing to show the brokenness you felt inside.

The weight of your words struck him like a harrowing realization. This was the point of no return. This wasn’t just about the betrayals or his toxic habits; it was about your irrevocable decision to shield your heart from further wounds.

In that moment, something shifted within Roman. He was finally confronted with the urgency of your pain, the reality of what his actions had wrought. For the first time, he felt the real weight of losing you—a loss that could break apart his seemingly unshakeable world.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though it felt inadequate. Because in the end, “sorry” had never been enough for you , and now, amidst the wreckage of your fractured love, he realized the true cost of his indifference.

“I just .. i can’t keep doing this” you said as you stood up to leave the room, Roman felt panic rising within him. “Yn, wait. Please don’t go. Can we try again?”

“It’s too late”

You turned to walk away, a single tear trailing down your cheek, carving a path through your mask of indifference. You were still standing with a semblance of strength, but deep down, you were fragile, teetering on the edge of release.

In that moment, you both understood: the man who had once held your heart now stood as a weary ghost in your closed-off world.

And as you walked away, fully embracing the numbness, your heart echoed with a mix of sorrow and relief. The door closed behind you softly, and the sound signaled the end of your tragic love story, one that had been thrilling yet, ultimately, unfulfilling.

Roman sat alone, enveloped in the chilling silence of the room, staring into the void of what he had taken for granted, He was lost, and as the echo of your absence reverberated through the air, leaving him with a profound emptiness he was left grappling with a painful truth—he had taken the love of his life for granted, and he may have just lost you forever ,—a lesson learned too late in the WWE universe where nothing was ever guaranteed

TAG LIST

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[starsturni]

later*- chris

analysis: when your nerdy tutor chris tries to help you study for your upcoming history exam, you have different ideas.

song: whatever song you like!

wc: 1.7k!

warnings: smut, riding, oral (m receiving), cursing, praise kink, sub!chris, dom!reader, over stimulation, edging, unprotected p in v (wrap it UP!!), and reader is bratty.

i let out an annoyed groan, throwing my head back in frustration at the tough problem. my hands shoot up to cover my face, brushing back the loose strands left behind from my messy bun. "chris, this is way too hard. did we ever even learn this shit?" by now, chris and i have been studying for hours on end and have made zero progress. "c'mon y/n. i know you can get this. we learned it last year in mrs. watt's class."

i shoot him a sidelong glance. "and you believe anyone paid attention? her voice was so annoying." he shakes his head. "i liked her." i smirk softly, seeing the perfect opportunity to tease chris. "if you like her so much why don't you marry her." he rolls his eyes at my corny insult, a small pout appearing on his lips. "she was sweet. plus, she taught some awesome stuff. like, i learned that the shortest war recorded in history was 38 minutes! like, how in the hell did it last so shortly?"

i remove my hands from my face, dropping them onto my thighs that were covered by my white pajama pants. i look at chris as he speaks, not really listening to what he's rambling about, just observing his looks. i always thought chris was cute.

no matter how nerdy he was, or those stupid clear glasses he wore that never stayed up fully on his face, he was always attractive. his features were just perfect, they seemed to just draw me into his world of clumsy and dorky behavior.

his sharp jawline, his long fingers, the way his tone always changed whenever he talked about something he enjoyed. it made me feel all tingly. i feel a heat start to grow between my legs, it slowly starting to ache.

i subtly shift, becoming more restless by every second. "hello? y/n, did you hear even a word of what i said?" he says, a frown creasing his face, an expression of concern taking over. i nod, slowly taking my bottom lip in between my teeth, gently gnawing. "yeah, i'm fine..hey chris, how about you go over problem 'a' again? i wanna make sure i really get down the material."

he nods, letting out a soft sigh, tilting his head downwards. as he looks down at my notebook, he lifts up two fingers, gently pushing up his glasses as he searches for the problem again, flipping through the pages and scanning them thoroughly.

i can't help but look at the fingers, the two so long and slim. as he searches through the pages to find the equation, i reach out, placing the palm of my hand on his inner thigh. his head whips towards me, his eyes widened with shock. "y-y/n, what are you doing?"

i smile softly at his naive worry. "shh, chris it's fine. aren't you tired of studying? we've been at it since like-" i let out a soft scoff of amusement. "what, 4 pm?" he looks at the desk, too nervous to share our gaze. "well, yeah, b-but-"

my lips smash onto his, cutting off his nervous rebut. the kiss is what you'd expect from a single, lonely and horny teenager; our teeth mashing against each other, his hands anxiously gripping and fidgeting the plastic of the spinning chair he was sitting in.

as we pull away from the kiss for a breath, he tries to say his reasoning. "i-i got hired to help by your parents y/n, you have to pass this quiz!" he whisper shouts. i roll my eyes, continuing the kiss. i slip my tongue into his mouth, in reaction to that he lets out a surprised gasp against my lips.

my left hand trails up chris's chest, gently feeling chris's body through the thin layer of his button up. he mumbles against my lips, not wanting to pull away. "w-wait, y/n." i hum softly against his soft pink lips. "y/n." he gently pulls away, leaving only a small amount of space between him and i.

"what?" i answer, looking in between his eyes. he clears his throat, glancing behind me to my door which was cracked open. "uhm, we-we should close the door." he mumbles, standing up and speedwalking to the door. he shuts the door, but not without locking it.

click.

he comes back over to my desk, to which i stand, trailing my left hand up from his collarbone to the back of neck, pulling him in for another kiss. as my lips land on his, this time around the kiss is much gentler and more passionate. his hands shakily rest on my waist, his thumbs rubbing sub conscious circles and shapes on my stomach.

i lead us to my bed, parting our lips to gently push him down to sit on the bed. i drop down to my knees, my hands reaching up for his belt when he stops me once again. "i've never done anything like this before.." i smile softly and his innocence. "so i'm your first?" he nods shyly, a light coat of blush shooting through his cheeks.

i slip the belt out from the loops of his jeans, him unbuttoning them and lifting his hips to take them off. once off, i can see his eager erection through his grey boxers.

holy shit.

my eyes widen at the sight, not expecting such a shy kid like chris to be packing such a length. chris swallows hard, on edge from my reaction. "is-is that bad?.." i look up at chris, shaking my head. "no, not at all. i'm just really surprised." he nods, a sense of pride inflating his chest.

i smile at the sight of his leaking tip as i tug down his boxers. he whimpers softly as the cold air from the fan hits his shaft. i gently wrap my hand around him, holding up his girthy length.

he whines softly, his head thrown back against the sheets, eyes shut with anticipation. i gently press soft kisses amongst the prominent veins running along his shaft. he lets out a soft moan, twitching in excitement from any sort of touch. "f-fuck, please don't tease me, wan' it so bad." he rambles.

i can't help but want to grin at how pathetic it is, how he's begging. i wrap my lips around his red needy tip, dipping my tongue out to swirl around his head. he moans out before clamping a hand over his mouth, trying to hold back noises as his hips try to thrust up into my mouth, desperate.

"o-oh, shit." he mutters. he tilts head forward and off of the bed, wanting to get a better look at the sinful scene. his hands gently tangle up into my hair, to which i remove almost immediately, pinning his wrists to his sides.

i lower my head, taking in as much as i can, feeling tears prickle down the corners of my eyes as his tip hits the back of my throat. he lets out small whimpers, his hands fighting the urge to thread throughout my hair. i pull off, his head whipping up at the loss of contact, a moan of neediness eliciting from him.

"wha-why'd you stop?" he says, a small pout covers his wettened lips. i smile condescendingly, standing up and slipping off my sweatpants, watching the way his eyes follow the whole time as the clothing falls down my thighs and to my ankles. "cause i don't want you to cum that quickly baby."

he swallows hard, looking back up at me, finally meeting my gaze. "i-i wan' see you.." i hum softly, teasingly slipping off my panties at a slow pace. "be patient baby, know you can.." he whimpers at my sweet manipulative tone.

god he's so pitiful.

i straddle him, his hands gravitate up to my waist. i quickly take off the sweater that i stole from chris' closet at one of our earlier study sessions. his hands immediately fly to my covered breasts, groping the light-colored fabric of my bra, his mouth open and eyes wide.

i reach down, positioning chris to line up with my dripping cunt. i slowly sink down, a stifled moan barely escaping my lips as the slight burning sensation fills my insides. chris' eyes slam shut, moaning soft pretty moans that is like music to my ears.

i continue sinking down, finally bottoming out. i take a minute, trying to adjust to chris' lengthy shaft.

i gently rock against him, rolling my hips. he grunts, his thumbs drawing sub conscious circles onto the skin of my hips. i begin to bounce, letting out soft whimpers.

he almost immediately moans out, his eyes tight with pleasure. "fuuuck, y/n, shit that feels so good." i let out soft moans, observing the way his facial expressions contort in pleasure with every bounce.

"oh chris, you fucking like that right?" he nods, his eyes rolled back in pleasure as he desperately grips the bed sheets. i lean forward, planting my hands onto chris' chest for balance as i bounce vigorously, the sinful noises of our bodies connecting against each other repeatedly filling the room could make me cry out in pleasure.

"s-so fucking, ugh tight." he whines. i lean forward, kissing chris hungrily. my hand trails up to his jaw, caressing the stubble littered on his face. "so wet, oh fuck, it feels too good y/n, oh my god," he whimpers softly, "i-i'm close."

i nod, whining softly. "oh yeah? fuck baby, cum. let go f'me, cmon i know you can." he groans loudly, his hands move to my ass, gripping me tightly. "g-god, cumming!" i feel his dick twitch inside me as his impending release washes over in a bliss. he moans as his thick white spurts of cum coat my insides, the warm feeling of fullness pushing me over the edge, releasing on his dick. he helps me ride out my waves of pleasure as we catch our breath, my head tucked into his neck as i pant heavily.

after minutes of laying still, i gently lift my head. i see the thin layer of sweat that coats his forehead, his brown strands of hair sticking to his face, his expression tired.

i smile softly, holding back a giggle. "..are you ready to go over the material now?"

sorry if the ending is rushed, i didn’t know how to end it!

-love, starsturni 😌

currently tagging:

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[wrttenbyhan]

dear future husband..

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :

annoyed!fem reader x soon to be fiancé!han jisung

𝐚/𝐧 :

my first oneshot 🤍

“love, you're making this difficult,”

a groan lingers in the back of han's throat, although he stifles it inside for his sake.

your heels tap on the ground with a fierce pace, eyes narrowed, keeping your back turned on him.

“nessa, come on, baby,”

he hesitates to pull you back, but he decides to grab onto your purse's string, stopping you in your tracks.

“why are you like this? what'd i do?”

you spun around,

“you're late! this isn't the first time you've done this to our dates, han.”

well, how would you not be frustrated? you dolled up for hours and he shows up an hour late.

“i’m sorry, angel, something.. came up at work,”

han internally curses at himself. he got too carried away looking at rings and flowers, thinking it's only six o’ clock. how's he gonna propose when you're mad at him?

you sigh and repeat his last word out loud.

han can immediately tell from the tone of your voice that you clearly don't believe him. he hesitates to respond further, knowing damn well you'll get more annoyed.

“yeah,”

he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“i had something to do urgently, and i got held back.”

truthfully, he wanted to ask the florist on which bouquet's the best to give to you and the jeweller on the right ring, but you don't need to know that yet.

“you say that all the time,”

you say, before tugging onto your purse so your boyfriend lets go,

“i can't believe you anymore.”

han grits his teeth at your comment. you weren’t wrong though, he does say that excuse a lot..

“i really did, i swear. we had a meeting about our latest album.”

he knows you wouldn’t believe him either way, but he tries to sound convincing. he just needed to make you believe him somehow so that you and him can go on your date and end the day on a good note before he proposed on the next day.

“but this isn't the first time this has happened.”

“i know.. i-”

han heaves a long sigh. he knows how frustrated you are, and he's frustrated at himself too. why couldn’t he have just double checked the time?

he takes a few steps closer to you, gently rubbing comforting circles around your arms.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to make you this mad..”

“are you cheating on me?”

you say, the question just spilling out of your mouth. you audibly hear han gasp,

“what?”

his mouth drops at your question, eyes widening.

“of course not! i’d never do that to you..”

he’s completely shocked that you'd even ask that. it’s the last thing he would ever do to you, cheat on you. even the thought of it just sickens him.

“then what are you doing that’s making you late all the time? because it’s not work.”

“i-”

he hesitates and internally panics. he can’t just tell you yet, he has to come up with a random excuse.

“it’s just work, i swear!”

he knows it’s a terrible excuse, but he has no choice. if he told you the real reason, it’d ruin the surprise.. and ruin his proposal for tomorrow.

“fine..”

you sigh, before dragging him along to the car. han takes your hand in his, intertwining fingers, and heads out of his apartment and into the car. he helps you into the passenger seat before hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the vehicle.

the entire car ride was pretty silent, a comfortable one though. he glances over at you from time to time. you still look mad, and he mentally curses at himself.

“han, you idiot, make her happy,”

is what he said to himself in his mind.

as he stops the car at the parking lot, he immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. he hurries around the car to open your door for you.

he helps you out of the car and shuts the door close before taking your hand in his again.

“come on.”

with that, he slowly walks beside you into the restaurant, still holding onto your hand.

as you both entered and were escorted to a table, han quietly pulls back your chair from the table before gesturing you to take a seat. he pushes the chair back closer to the table before sitting down into his own seat across from you.

he grabs the menu and looks over the options, although he’a not actually thinking of what to order. he’s too focused on your mood instead.

he sneaks a few glances at you as you scan your eyes over the menu. he’s still upset over the fact you thought he’d cheat on you. how could you even think that? he loves you more than anything in this world, and he could never, ever do that to you.

han notices you set the menu down and fold your arms across your chest, now looking out of the window. you still don’t look too happy, and it breaks his heart seeing you like that. he hates himself for messing up this date with you.

he sighs, folding his own menu and setting it beside the other. he reaches a hand out to take yours on the table, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“can you look at me?”

he asks gently,

“please.”

“hm?”

he pouts at your emotionless response, and he continues to rub your knuckles.

“please, look at me..”

he repeats, a slight desperate tone in his voice. he just wants you to look at him. you ask him why, and he only just sighs louder. that stung. he’s not expecting that response. he tries his best to keep his calm, although that comment hurt him.

he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“i want you to look at me because i hate it when you’re mad at me..”

you look anywhere but at his eyes. you end up staring at the menu, saying,

“i’m not mad at you.”

yet it was clear you were annoyed with him because you said it with sass and attitude. han raises an eyebrow at your comment, not believing you. you’re still not looking at him, and he knows you’re definitely mad.

“love, you’re definitely mad. you just won’t admit it.”

you look up at him, groaning and rolling your eyes. he almost let out a sigh of relief when you finally looked at him. the sight of your eyes made his heart skip a beat.

he holds your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours and rubbing circles around your knuckles.

“finally..”

he smiles, trying to act casually and hide his relief.

“there’s that pretty face of yours,”

he mutters quietly as he looks at you, staring into your eyes.

he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles,

“and there’s those beautiful eyes i love seeing..”

he looks at you expectantly, studying your expression closely. he can tell you’re still upset with him, but he doesn’t want to mention anything that might worsen the mood.

“are you.. still mad at me?”

he asks in a hesitant tone, afraid of your response. you shake your head and he grins, and you find yourself grinning back.

his heart flutters in relief and he lets out a breath as he gently massages your knuckle, feeling overjoyed that you’re no longer upset.

“good..”

he mumbles blissfully. curious, you ask him what he's going to order.

“hm?”

he glances at you, surprised by your random question.

“oh uh, i’ll just have the steak, rare.”

he answers, his thoughts elsewhere. he’s wondering how he’s gonna propose later.

“how about you?”

you hesitate, knowing that he'll probably tease you for choosing yet again,

“the pasta.”

as expected, han scoffs and chuckles, his hand squeezing yours.

“you’re getting pasta again?”

he teased you since you always ordered pasta when both of you went to a restaurant. you blush in embarrassment and nod. you then looked at the menu again, trying to see if there was anything that piqued your interest.

“i could have the fish.. or the potatoes.”

he hums, trying to picture you eating fish or potatoes.

“you know you’re gonna end up ordering pasta again.”

he comments, and he’s correct, most likely. after a good two minutes, you sigh and look up at han, who was still smirking from ear to ear.

“can.. can i just have the pasta?”

“if that’s what you really want..”

he grins, knowing you’d never ever change off the pasta.

“at least you’ll be happy with your decision.”

he lets go of one of your hands and motions for a waiter. a waiter makes his way to your table, the man smiling politely as he pulls out a pen and notepad.

han turns to the waiter and says,

“we’d like to order now.”

“i’ll have the steak, rare. and she’ll have the pasta.”

he tells the waiter.

they nod and jots down the orders, looking up at both of you.

“will that be all?”

“yes, we’re done for now,”

he replies, nodding slightly at the waiter.

they smile once again.

“your orders will be ready in a while. thank you.”

with that, the man walks away.

he turns back to you, looking at you again. he takes your hand in his again, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“you know i’m right.”

he points out, a hint of a playful smirk crossing his features.

“you’re not gonna change your mind, because you always choose pasta.”

you giggle and tell him to shut up. but then your attention immediately goes to a man going down on one knee to his girlfriend. he watches the couple from the other table in a corner of his eye, seeing the man taking out a small velvet box and holding it out to his girlfriend. han feels slightly envious of their moment, as it’s only a matter of time before his own proposal begins.

he hums, still watching the couple in envy. He’s wondering how he’s going to pull off his own proposal later at night.

“they look happy,”

he comments quietly, still studying the couple. the man is now holding the girlfriend’s hand as he slides the ring on her finger.

“aww!”

you mumble, while the man embraces the now-engaged woman, both of them sharing a soft kiss.

han’s heart aches slightly in jealousy of the couple as he watches them. he suddenly wonders how you’ll react to his own proposal.

you whisper to han,

“she’s crying, that's so adorable!”

he nods his head in agreement with your statement, focusing on the engaged couple.

“it is cute,”

he muses, continuing to watch their moment. He looks at their happy faces and wishes for his own proposal to be a success.

“i wonder if you’ll cry too when i propose to you…”

he mumbles to himself, watching as the man helps his newly-engaged woman up from her chair and holding her in his arms.

“or maybe you won’t cry, and you’ll simply just look at me in shock.. like how you did when i first confessed to you..”

he smiles slightly at the memory of your surprised face when he confessed to you.

it was now the morning of the big day. han was going to propose to you today.

he was woken up by the sunlight streaming through the curtains. he blinks his eyes open, the sunlight slightly blinding him. he sits up in the bed, the sheets pooling around his lap. his eyes scan around the bedroom, landing on you, who was still asleep.

he takes a moment to admire you in your slumber, seeing your peaceful face and your slowly rising chest.

he then glances at the digital clock on the bedside. six am. another hour, and he’ll propose to you. he can already feel his heart rate quicken in anticipation.

he lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm down his racing heart. he looks at you once more, seeing your eyes still shut.

quietly, he slowly slips out of bed and pads across the carpet to the bathroom. he flicks on the light and closes the door softly.

he turns to the mirror, his eyes landing on his own reflection. he takes in his appearance, seeing his disheveled hair, and his slightly swollen eyes.

“you look nervous,”

he thinks to himself, trying to compose himself. he splashes cold water on his face and tries to calm down.

he grabs a towel off the rack and starts drying his face. he takes a few more breaths, taking the time to calm down from his nervousness.

he’s nervous, but he’s also excited to finally make you his fiancé and future wife.

the thought of what is to come floods into han’s mind.

“what if she says no? what if she hates the ring? what if she doesn’t want to marry me yet?”

his brain is suddenly filled with negative thoughts, and he tries to get rid of them. a cold feeling washes over him at the thought of you saying no to him.

“calm down,”

he tells himself, don’t overthink it. he glances at the mirror again, looking at his reflection once more.

he looks a little shaky and a bit pale, so he splashes his face with cold water again. he’s trying to calm down, but the thought of you rejecting him is constantly looping his mind,

“you’re just overthinking, he reassures himself, she’s not going to say no. you both already talked about getting married someday..”

he tries to stop his anxious thoughts but just the mere idea of you saying no is eating him up inside.

he lets out another shaky breath, trying to push the negative thoughts away. he forces on a small smile and tells himself everything will be okay.

“you’re going to propose, and she’s going to say yes. you’ll get engaged that night, and she’ll love the ring. it’s gonna be fine. you’ve been together for years, and she’s madly in love with you..”

han slowly steps out of the bathroom, his mind still racing with thoughts.

he approaches the bed and sits on the edge, looking at your sleeping form once again.

“babe,”

he calls out quietly, gently shaking your shoulder. he continues gently shaking your shoulder, trying to wake you up.

“babe..”

he repeats, his voice soft so he doesn’t startle you. your eyes flutter open and you sit up, rubbing your eyes and squinting. han couldn't help but smile at how adorable you were, your messy hair all over the place and how you struggled to get up.

“morning, love,”

he says gently.

“sorry to wake you,”

he apologizes as his words register in your sleepy head. you smile tiredly and puckered your lips at him. he chuckles and obediently pecks your lips and buried his head into your neck.

“i have a surprise for you,”

he suddenly whispers it into your ear, gently biting the crook of your neck, arms slowly wrapping around your waist. his breath feels heavy and hot.

without a word to protest, han pulls you towards the balcony, your steps following his as he guides you.

the night breeze was fresh, a little chilly. the sky was clear and a hint of the moonlight seeps into the balcony.

he slowly tugs you by the railing. you feel han behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. he rubs your sides and you look behind yourself, seeing his beautiful face. he smiles and you ask him,

“what’s the surprise?”

“just.. stay still and just close your eyes,”

he softly kisses your cheek as he gently commands you to shut your eyes. he's being strangely careful,

“no peeking..”

he flips around so that you're facing him. he gently places your hands over your eyes and whispers,

“keep still, honey.”

he hugs you from behind for a few seconds, rubbing your hips to relax you, but mostly to relax himself.

he moves away, letting his warmth leave your body, going in front you. you can hear his ragged breathing, and a whisper. a click of his tongue.

then, you feel his presence before you. he was knelt down on one knee, facing you now.

“you can open your eyes now, angel..”

his voice was soft. your eyes were met with his, his soft brown hues staring into your soul, a smile playing in the corners of his lips. a shaky breath leaves his lips.

he's holding a small black velvet box, holding on to it anxiously. you gasp and han chuckled at your reaction, taking a shaky breath, fiddling with the box.

“i didn’t think it would take me so much courage..”

he slowly opens the box, revealing a diamond ring to you, sparkling under the moonlight.

“i..”

he can feel his heart hammering against his chest, sweat coating his skin. he can’t find the words, but he tries anyway, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ve been in love with you since the day i met you. i don’t ever wanna lose you. i can’t live.. and i don't want to live without you,”

he can feel nervousness bubble up within him, his body tense.

“i don’t want to be just your boyfriend anymore.. i want more..”

he gently grabs one of your hands, holding it tightly, his thumb stroking the back of it.

he takes another shaky breath in, his brown eyes locking with yours intently.

“i want to marry you…”

he lets the words hang in the air, the night suddenly falling deadly silent. it was only you and him, alone. he nervously awaits your response, breath caught within his throat, his eyes filled with desperation.

“will you.. marry me, angel?”

you find yourself choked up in tears. you sob and han was taken aback by your sudden reaction, watching a tear roll down your cheek, your hand slightly trembling within his grasp.

his eyes widen a little bit, his heart suddenly aching, as he waited for your answer. he says to himself in the back of his mind,

“please say yes..”

you stare at han on the ground for you. he looks up and you, concerned, awaiting your answer. you nod and blurt out,

“yes!”

a sigh of relief escaped his lips. a shaky breath.

a genuine smile slowly pulls its way up and takes over his features, his eyes lighting up, his lips trembling. he gingerly takes the ring out of the box and slowly slides it onto your finger.

“you’re mine..”

he whispers, his voice cracking a little. he stood up and pulled you into his chest, his arms caging you.

he could hear your cries against his chest, his hands gently tracing over your back, his chin resting on top of your head.

“you’re crying.. why are you crying, angel? every time i see you cry, i..”

he softly mumbled, his own tears stopping him from finishing the sentence. he embraces you firmly against his frame, his warmth enveloping you. you choke out,

“i’m just so happy..”

han held you a little closer, his nose nuzzling against the top of your head, his hand gently caressing your back. He lets out another shaky breath, a sigh of relief.

“so you really are mine now.. my fiancé..”

the word falling off his mouth was like honey to your ears.

[animamii]

lockedup!toji calling you as soon as he gets his first call. fuck calling a lawyer or anyone else, he has to hear his baby girl's voice so he knows everything will be okay.

"Heyyy, princess," he'd say with a soft chuckle, his deep voice filled with affection. He could almost picture the way you’d frown when you heard it—he'd made this mistake before, calling from jail, and you’d always been frustrated with him.

"Again, Toji??" you'd reply, your tone exasperated but not entirely without love. It was the kind of playful scolding that only someone who had been through this more times than they could count would give. "How many times have I told you not to do this?"

Toji grinned to himself, the familiar warmth of your voice easing some of the tension in his chest. "Baby girl, I’m not callin’ no lawyer or anyone else. I needed to hear your voice first. You know that."

A soft sigh escapes you on the other end, but he could feel the underlying affection in your response. "You’re lucky I still pick up. Every damn time you do this, Toji. What are you thinkin'?"

“I’m thinkin’ I just wanna make sure you’re alright. That you’re okay. I’m sittin’ here, and all I can think about is you.” He speaks low, his voice smooth and almost tender. "I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just... needed to know you’re good, princess. Needed to hear you tell me everything’s gonna be okay."

You hesitate for a moment before responding, your tone softening. "Of course I’m okay. But you, Toji… you keep doing this. Keep putting yourself in these situations. You’re gonna get yourself locked up for good one day, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that."

Toji’s smile fades, and the sound of a deep sigh echoes through the receiver. He knew you were right. But he’d always been a man who lived in the moment, dealt with the consequences after. Still, hearing the concern in your voice hit harder than he wanted to admit.

"I know, princess," he says, voice quieter now. "But I swear, if anything happens... if I’m stuck here longer than I planned, just promise me you’ll be okay. Promise me you won’t let this mess with you too much."

You were silent for a moment, and in that silence, Toji could almost feel your arms around him, holding him together in the way you always did. Finally, your voice came through, low and steady.

"I’ll be okay," you say with a soft sigh, the words filled with that kind of certainty only you could provide. "But I need you to be, too. You can’t keep doing this. We’ll figure it out, okay? I'll call your lawyer, do what I always do for ya. Just don’t lose yourself in there, Toji."

His chest tightens. He had always been so careful to never rely on anyone, but with you, it was different. You had a way of making him want to fight harder, hold on longer.

"I’m not gonna lose myself," he promises, his voice firm again. "Not as long as I know you’re out there waiting for me. I’ll make it through, princess. I’m comin’ home."

"Yeah... I know. I better not find out it's anything too bad that you're in there for more than a week. I still wanna go to Kyoto this month." Toji had already planned a weekend getaway to Kyoto, just a small lil baecation away from Tokyo.

"Just call Shiu and tell him to get me out of here pronto, baby girl."

[f4irycoven]

bubble bath encounter | jsc

pairing: head boy & gryffindor! sungchan x head girl & slytherin! reader

summary: wizarding world au in which after a chaotic night of patrols, you and sungchan find solace in the prefects’ bathroom.

word count: 1.9k+

warnings: sexual content, characters of age, making out, fingering, clit play, handjob, slight nipple play (?), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, etc.

the clock tower chimed faintly in the distance, signaling the end of another long night at hogwarts. the castle’s ancient corridors were silent, save for the faint rustle of your robes as you made your way to the prefects’ bathroom.

being head girl wasn’t easy—especially when it felt like half your time was spent cleaning up after the weasley twins’ latest antics or dodging peeves’ relentless pranks. tonight had been no different. a trail of enchanted canary creams had sent a flock of unsuspecting first-years squawking through the great hall, and peeves had decided to unleash an entire cabinet of dungbombs in the charms corridor. by the time you and sungchan managed to restore order, you were both utterly exhausted.

now, all you wanted was a moment of peace. the prefects’ bathroom was your sanctuary, its lavish design and endless supply of bubbles the perfect antidote to a stressful day. whispering the password, you slipped inside, greeted by the familiar warmth of the marble room.

the enormous bathtub sparkled invitingly, its many taps ready to pour out a rainbow of water and bubbles. you turned on a few taps, letting streams of lavender and gold fill the tub, the scent of chamomile wafting through the air. shedding your robes, you sank into the water with a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing with every passing second.

for a while, you simply enjoyed the quiet, the troubles of the day melting away. but your solitude was interrupted by the creak of the door.

“busy night, huh?”

your eyes snapped open to find sungchan standing in the doorway, his gryffindor tie slightly askew and a familiar sheepish grin on his face.

“sungchan?” you sputtered, sinking deeper into the bubbles. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugged, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “same thing you are. long patrol, lots of chaos, and an overwhelming need to unwind.”

“there are plenty of other bathrooms in the castle,” you pointed out, crossing your arms under the water.

“true,” he said, unbuttoning his robes, “but this one has the best bubbles.”

before you could protest, he was turning on a few taps, adding streams of emerald and sapphire to the already colorful water. he climbed into the tub, settling on the opposite side with a contented sigh.

the room was filled with the sound of water sloshing as you both tried to find comfortable positions without invading each other’s space. for a moment, it was awkward—neither of you quite sure what to say. but as the steam filled the room, softening the edges of reality, the tension began to dissolve.

“you look as exhausted as i feel,” sungchan said, breaking the silence.

“long night,” you replied, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “if i have to chase down one more enchanted firework, i might scream.”

he laughed, the sound rich and warm. “tell me about it. the twins practically live to make our lives harder. and peeves… don’t even get me started on peeves.”

you groaned in agreement. “i’m convinced he has a personal vendetta against us. did you see the way he laughed after dropping those dungbombs tonight?”

sungchan nodded, his expression one of exasperated fondness. “he’s a menace. honestly, i don’t know how he hasn’t been exorcised by now.”

for a while, the two of you commiserated over the trials of being head boy and head girl, sharing stories of the pranks and chaos you’d had to deal with over the years. despite your house rivalry, you found it surprisingly easy to talk to sungchan. he had a way of making even the most frustrating situations seem a little less terrible.

eventually, the conversation shifted to more personal topics.

“have you thought about what you’ll do after graduation?” sungchan asked, his voice soft.

you hesitated, the question one you’d been avoiding. “not really. my parents want me to follow in their footsteps and work for the ministry, but… i don’t know if that’s what i want.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “same here. my dad’s pushing for me to join the auror program, but part of me wonders if there’s something else out there for me.”

there was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder that beneath his confident exterior, he was just as uncertain about the future as you were.

“you know,” you said, swirling your hand through the water, “it’s funny. we’ve spent so much time at hogwarts enforcing the rules, but we’ve never really broken any ourselves.”

sungchan raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “are you saying you want to break the rules, head girl?”

“maybe,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your tone.

he leaned closer, his gaze playful. “what kind of rule-breaking are we talking about here?”

before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a bold, unexpected kiss. for a moment, you froze, your mind racing. but then you found yourself kissing him back, the warmth of his lips chasing away any hesitation.

the kiss was slow at first, tentative and sweet, but it quickly deepened, a spark of passion igniting between you. it was reckless, exhilarating, and entirely unlike anything you’d ever done before.

as the kiss deepened, you found yourself pressing closer, the cool marble of the bathtub contrasting deliciously with the warmth of sungchan's body. his hands skimmed up your sides, tracing the curve of your waist, and you shivered at the contact, the sensation sending jolts of electricity through your veins.

"tell me to stop if you want me to," he murmured against your lips, his breath mingling with yours.

but you had no intention of stopping. your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer as you parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. he obliged eagerly, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance that made your head spin.

sungchan's hands continued their explorations, trailing lower until he reached the swell of your breasts. he cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from your throat. you arched into his touch, craving more of the delicious friction.

"i want to touch you," he whispered, his voice low and rough with desire. "i want to make you feel good."

you nodded, your cheeks flushing at the intensity of his gaze. "please," you breathed, the word barely a whisper.

he smiled, his fingers trailing down your body until they reached the apex of your thighs. you widened your legs instinctively, granting him access, and he groaned softly as he felt the slick heat of your arousal.

"fuck, you're so wet," he growled, his fingers teasing your folds. "is this all for me?"

you bit your lip, nodding as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with maddening precision. your hips bucked at the sudden sensation, a moan escaping your lips as he began to move his finger, stroking you in a way that made your toes curl.

"does that feel good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"y-yes," you stammered, your head falling back as he added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. "oh god, sungchan..."

he chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "i love hearing my name on your lips like that. say it again."

"sungchan," you whimpered, clenching around his fingers as he pumped them faster, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

your hands explored his body in return, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the defined abs, until you reached his hardening length. you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him in time with his movements, and he groaned, his hips jerking forward.

"fuck, just like that," he panted, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "don't stop."

you didn't intend to, your grip tightening as you increased your speed, feeling him throb against your palm. the bathtub water sloshed around you, droplets cascading down your bodies as you lost yourself in the sensations.

when sungchan pulled his fingers out, you whined at the loss, only to gasp as he lifted you effortlessly, positioning you above his lap. his hard length nudged against your entrance, and you looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, silently pleading for more.

"do you want this?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "do you want me to fuck you?"

"yes," you hissed, lowering yourself onto him with a moan. "i want you inside me. please, sungchan..."

he groaned as you enveloped him, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. for a moment, he remained still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. but as you began to move, rising and falling on his length, he lost himself to the rhythm.

his hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you rode him, the water providing just enough resistance to make each thrust delicious. you leaned forward, changing the angle, and cried out as he hit that spot inside you again, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"that's it," he encouraged, his hips snapping upward to meet your movements. "take what you need. use me."

you did, losing yourself in the primal dance of your bodies, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the bathroom. your moans mingled with his groans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to rise with the steam.

one hand slid up your body to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as you rode him harder, faster. you could feel the coil of tension in your lower belly, winding tighter with each thrust.

"sungchan," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i'm going to... i'm going to cum."

"cum for me," he demanded, his thumb finding your clit again and rubbing tight circles. "let go."

that was all it took. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body spasming around him as you cried out your pleasure. he followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside you with a low growl.

for a moment, you both remained still, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your pleasure washed over you. then, slowly, you collapsed against his chest, your heart beating in time with his.

"that was... incredible," you murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

he hummed in agreement, his arms wrapping around you as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. "i never thought i'd say this, but being head boy has its perks."

you laughed softly, swatting his chest before snuggling closer. "don't let it go to your head. this doesn't change anything between our houses."

he grinned, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. "of course not. we'll keep this our little secret."

and so you did, stealing moments together whenever you could—a stolen kiss in a deserted corridor, a lingering touch during patrol. it was dangerous and thrilling, a forbidden connection that only drew you closer.

but for now, as you lay in his arms in the now-cool water, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the moment. tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges—responsibilities and expectations that neither of you could avoid. but tonight, in this stolen moment of passion and vulnerability, nothing else mattered.

you were simply two people, drawn together by an undeniable attraction and a mutual desire for something more. and as sungchan pressed a final kiss to your lips before slipping out of the tub and reaching for a towel, you couldn't help but smile at the possibilities that lay ahead.

©️f4irycoven

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

SKZ getting cheated on (Hyung Line + Han)

(How long it’ll take them to find out on their own, how they’d react, if they’d break up or not)

Chan

Honestly, it'd probably take him a while to realize. Because, for one, he'd probably feel very stable in his relationship and his place in his partner's life. He has that "They'd never because they NEED me" kinda mentality. The longer they've been together the less likely he is to find out organically unless he full-on catches them in the act. He also feels like his relationships are very solid at their core. Another big issue is to be entirely sure his partner is cheating, he needs to break free of delusions. It would also just be far too much for him if he did suspect it because he'd be afraid he'd lose his partner for even daring to think something like that. I think he'd also...Take things for granted? Like, "I have you there's no way you'd ever leave or want anything more/else" type of thing. Everything's familiar. And he doesn't take into account that anything could possibly happen.

If he finds out he got cheated on, he'd immediately tell his friends and seek comfort in them. I'm also getting he's the type who'd cheat on his partner to get his lick back or something. Cheating is something Chan can't get past, so he'd definitely leave them. He'd feel hopeless, and his entire life would probably momentarily crash and burn. I think he'd also be really frustrated and it'd ruin his trust in everyone in his life. He'd also push down and suppress a lot of things. Because of that, the feelings of hurt and anger and resentment can easily fester because he didn't allow himself to acknowledge them or hash them out.

Lee Know

Idk why I immediately thought of ice spice

Specifically that like "You think you the shit, bitch? You not even the fart." I don't even like her or that song

BUT ANYWAYS

He'd know quickly. You can't HIDE that from this man. Trust he'll find out ASAP. Because, one, his intuition is on a whole other level. Two, he'd immediately know if something's off. Whether that be your location being off or somewhere it's not supposed to, etc. Even if you think you're slick he'll FIND a tell one way or another. I'm also a firm believer he goes through phones. I'm talking every nook and cranny of that phone including your EMAILS. He's finding that shit one way or another and you're lucky if there's a 24 hour window of time where he doesn't know about it. He'll find a way to figure it out.

In terms of how he'd react...He'd definitely find out on his own, so there'd be this 'Aha!' moment. Because he knew he wasn't going crazy. He's going to figure out every nitty gritty detail of the cheating with PRINTED OUT laminated receipts with copies just incase. He's definitely gonna confront his partner. And trust he's going to have a boost of confidence figuring it out. Definitely not the type who blames himself. He's also probably telling everyone and their mother. And YOUR mother. He sees it as a battle won and everyone needs to hear about the victory.

He has a 50/50 chance of leaving, though. On ONE hand, while trust is very important to him he'd also feel a sense of...I don't want to say ownership but that's the only word I can think of over his partners. So, he simply wouldn't want to let them go. I feel like the love would also linger a lot because he feels very deeply. So, he may just stay with his partner and fall into some toxic habits of keeping them on lockdown, being all hovery...The type who's calling his partner every 5 minutes, showing up to their job to make sure they're there, getting their Apple login so they can receive every single message and notif they do...He's keeping them on LOCK. But on the other hand, he could very well just...Fall out of love in an instant. It's very contradictory. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and he has a very large capacity for hate, especially when betrayed. Probably just moved onto the next. So yeah, he's either dumping you rather cruelly then moving on like you never existed, or keeping you uner lock and key.

Changbin

He'd probably FIND OUT fairly quickly, because he'd kind of have this gut feeling. But he'd suppress those feelings and convince himself he was insane until he finally catches his partner red handed and realizes he's right on the money. Because he's very passionate about his relatinship and doesn't want to be imposing on his partner or doubting them for no reason. That's not his intention nor something he's comfortable with doing. He also wants to trust in his partner. He'll probably lose faith in himself and just be very on edge until he realizes he's right.

His entire life would fall apart when he finds out. He falls into destructive tendencies. Probably self-sabotages a lot. He feels like a failure, and he's so afraid of being made fun of or looked down on because he got cheated on. He'd probably fall into a depression and just be very negative. He'd feel like he wasn't enough, and couldn't be good enough. And feel he just couldn't be all his partner needed so they found it in someone else. But he'd also regain some of his trust in himself. Because he realized his intuition was right and he wasn't just losing his mind. Would definitely need a lot of kindness and comfort from friends and family, and a lot of self-expolration. May fall into delusions to help himself cope.

He'd also definitely break up with his partner if they cheated. Because they're obviously not his person, and he'll find his person.

Hyunjin

I haven't even pulled yet and I already know this'll affect my mental wellbeing

But also...MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN I haven't read on him in a while (I'm saying this because he's my bias not because i'm delusional enough to think he'd want me don't @ me)

FIRST OF ALL, he'd believe he's being cheated on long before he actually is. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already been in a situation where he dreamed of being cheated on and then a few weeks later got cheated on and was convinced he was a prophet or something. Not literally but you catch my drift. But I also feel like the amount of time it'd take to figure it out is considerably lengthened by the fact that he looks at everything through rose-tinted glasses of hopeless romance. He has a love for life and is more focused on that than anything else. Plus, he's near perpetually convinced he's about to be cheated on or is being cheated on so once he genuinely DOES see the red flags it's less...Impactful? To him? Because he sees them in everything. He's sensitive, though, so i feel like he'd sense it if something was off. Like, if his partner was cheating because of lost feelings he'd realize the lost feelings. And then, his imagination would take the wheel and suddenly it's a joyride off a cliff and into a mental spiral. I feel like deep down he'd also know like "Oh shit, this is different. They may actually be cheating for real." I feel like he has the emotional maturity to know that other times he was overreacting and being delusional. But this is more than that. I feel like the moment he open his eyes, he'll immediately know.

And he's getting the hell up out of there.

He'd be CRUSHED if he found out he got cheated on. He'd probably throw his money away doing stupid shit with it, fall into certain bad habits. He'd feel hopeless, and feel like everything he worked so hard for during the relationship was a waste. Like he's failed. But he'd also 100% publicly expose his partner. I also think he'd drown his sorrows in another relationship or fling or whatever. I'm talking within the hour of finding out he's under someone else for the sole purpose of distraction. He'd also 100% use this to fuel his general anger/crashoutery for the next few months. Like he'll be another level of volatile and emotionally unstable. He'd probably reflect a lot on the relationship. He'd withdraw from a lot of things and just want to be by himself and recover from the pain. Definitely would avoid anything that could potentially stress him out.

He'd also break up with his partner. Surprisingly. I was honestly expecting him to stay. But I feel like his energy has changed? He has more trust in himself and his value and he's not just content sticking around through mistreatment anymore. Good for him.

Han

Shawty bae

I don’t think he’d notice? He’d just very much be blinded by everything. He idealizes his relationships, and he’d be so happy he just genuinely wouldn’t notice if something was amiss. He’s also just generally an overthinker and has a very scattered mind, so I think if he did pick up on something he wouldn’t notice AT ALL he’s not being delusional.

I think he’d still love them if they cheated. But I also think he’d be the type to…Cheat back? If his partner were to ever cheat on him. He’d definitely also get closer with friends and family for emotional support and find happiness there. Mask the sadness with more happiness and drown himself in pleasure. I think once he finds out everything will suddenly connect. All the puzzle pieces will fall into place and everything will suddenly make sense.

I think he would want to but I don’t think he would. It’d be a big inner conflict and he’d really have to force himself to. He’d need to think on it and his friends and family would have to push for it. Because he’s like “Well I’ve put so much effort into this why throw it away?” And just values the stability relationships and having his ‘other half’ brings to him.

[w1w2]

From Shadows to Sunlight

Hwang Yeji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 9k

Synopsis: As Y/N’s world begins to fall apart, she forced herself to make hard decisions while struggling to navigate life’s challenges.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The kitchen was alive with chaos. Pots clanged, utensils cluttered, and the aroma of something distinctly burnt wafted through the air. Yeji stood at the stove, furiously waving a towel at the smoke detector that blared overhead. Her apron was speckled with flour, and a determined pout pressed her lips together. Y/N leaned against the counter, her arms crossed and a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeji, I think the pasta is supposed to boil, not incinerate," Y/N teased, her voice lilting with laughter.

"Hey! I’ve got this," Yeji shot back, glancing over her shoulder with mock indignation. Her eyes flashed with determination, but the blackened edges of the pan told a different story.

Y/N picked up her phone and snapped a quick photo of Yeji’s disaster zone. "This is going straight to the group chat. ‘Yeji’s Kitchen Nightmares.’"

Yeji turned, waving a sauce-covered wooden spoon at Y/N. "Delete that! Or else no burnt pasta for you."

Laughing, Y/N dodged out of reach, her bright smile lighting up the room. "Oh no, how will I survive without your gourmet creations?"

Despite the teasing, Y/N moved to help. She grabbed the nearly scorched pan and dumped its contents into the sink, turning on the faucet to quell the smoke. Yeji groaned, leaning against the counter and smearing flour across her forehead as she wiped away sweat.

"Why am I like this?" Yeji muttered, her tone half-joking but tinged with genuine frustration.

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Because you’re passionate and refuse to give up. Even when the universe tells you to just order takeout."

Yeji’s pout softened into a sheepish smile. "Takeout it is, then."

They ended up sprawled on the living room floor, surrounded by takeout containers and soda cans. The TV flickered with the glow of a rom-com they half-watched, both too engrossed in their playful banter to follow the plot. Y/N reached over and stole a bite from Yeji’s noodles, earning a dramatic gasp of betrayal.

"Y/N! That was my favorite piece!"

"It all tastes the same," Y/N replied, smirking. "Besides, you owe me for that near-death experience in the kitchen."

Yeji leaned in, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "Oh, it’s war now."

She lunged, chopsticks aimed to snatch a dumpling from Y/N’s plate, but Y/N was quicker. The two dissolved into laughter, their playful tussle spilling soy sauce onto the rug. It didn’t matter. In that moment, nothing could overshadow the joy they felt in each other’s company.

The evening ebbed into quiet comfort. Y/N’s head rested on Yeji’s shoulder as they sat together on the couch. Yeji’s fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on Y/N’s arm, their unspoken bond evident in the way they fit together. Neither had said “I love you” yet, but their actions spoke louder than words. The television droned on in the background, but neither paid attention, too caught up in the quiet peace of being together.

Y/N let her eyes close for a moment, soaking in the warmth of Yeji’s presence. She felt safe, as if nothing in the world could touch her as long as Yeji was by her side. Yeji turned her head slightly, her lips brushing Y/N’s hair as she murmured softly, “You know, I could stay like this forever.”

Before Y/N could respond, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, jolting her from the moment. She glanced at the screen and saw her mother’s name.

“I’ll be right back,” she murmured, gently untangling herself from Yeji and placing a light kiss on her forehead. Yeji nodded, watching her leave with a curious tilt of her head.

In the bedroom, Y/N shut the door and answered the call. Her mother’s voice came through immediately, strained and trembling. "Y/N, we… we need help. The bank… they’re threatening to take the house if we don’t pay soon."

Y/N’s heart sank. "What? Mom, what happened?"

Her mother explained in rushed, panicked tones. A failed business venture had drained their savings, and mounting debts had spiraled out of control. Collectors were calling daily, and the family’s financial future hung by a thread. Each word cut deeper, the enormity of the situation hitting Y/N like a wave.

"I’ll figure something out," Y/N said firmly, though her voice wavered. She gripped the phone tightly, as if the physical act could keep her mother from hearing the fear creeping into her tone. "Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got this."

When the call ended, Y/N remained still, leaning against the wall. Her cheerful facade crumbled as she clutched her phone to her chest. The weight of her family’s crisis pressed down on her, suffocating and inescapable. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, willing herself to stay strong. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now.

After a few moments, she squared her shoulders and forced a smile back onto her face. Rejoining Yeji in the living room, she sank onto the couch beside her.

“Everything okay?” Yeji asked, her almond eyes filled with concern. She tucked a strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear, her touch gentle.

Y/N plastered on a smile. "Yeah, just my mom checking in. Nothing serious."

Yeji studied her for a moment longer, her gaze searching, but she didn’t press. She simply rested her hand on Y/N’s, squeezing lightly. The gesture should have brought Y/N comfort, but it only deepened the ache in her chest.

That night, as Yeji drifted off to sleep beside her, Y/N stared at the ceiling. For Yeji’s sake, she had to pretend everything was fine, even if it tore her apart inside.

The days that followed were different. Y/N’s usual bubbly energy gave way to quiet distraction, like a light dimming slowly over time. The spark in her eyes that once shone so brightly seemed muted, her laughter more subdued. It wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know her well, but Yeji noticed. She always noticed.

Y/N started spacing out during conversations, her gaze fixed somewhere far away, as if the weight of unseen worries had pulled her into another world. When Yeji tried to engage her, the replies came slower, her words peppered with half-hearted chuckles and vague reassurances.

One evening, they sat on the couch, sharing what was meant to be a peaceful moment. The TV murmured in the background, but neither was watching. Yeji glanced at Y/N, her almond eyes scanning the face she adored. There was a tightness in Y/N’s jaw, a faint crease between her brows as though she was carrying something too heavy to let go of.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Yeji asked softly, her voice laced with gentle concern. She turned toward Y/N, folding one leg beneath her and giving her full attention.

“I’m fine,” Y/N replied quickly, too quickly. Her tone was light, but the edges of her smile trembled. “Just work stuff. You know how it is.” She waved a hand dismissively, avoiding Yeji’s gaze.

Yeji studied her, her expression thoughtful and searching. She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t want to push too hard, not yet. Instead, she reached over and squeezed Y/N’s hand, offering quiet support. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to pour everything out, every fear, every sleepless night, but the words stayed locked inside. She forced another smile, the gratitude genuine even if her expression didn’t fully reach her eyes. “I know. Thank you.”

But Yeji’s worry lingered, settling in her chest like a stone.

Over the next few days, Yeji began noticing the little things. Y/N’s playful teasing, the way she used to nudge Yeji’s shoulder or steal a bite of her food, had grown rarer. Her bright, affectionate energy felt muted, like the sun hidden behind clouds. Even her hugs, once warm and full of life, seemed restrained, as though she was holding something back.

At first, Yeji chalked it up to stress, but it became harder to ignore the growing distance between them. One evening, as they sat eating dinner together, Y/N barely touched her food, pushing it around her plate with a fork.

“Y/N,” Yeji started, her voice hesitant, “you’re not yourself lately. You’re… quieter. Distant. Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She reached for Yeji’s hand, shaking her head emphatically. “No! Yeji, of course not. You’re perfect. It’s just… life, you know? Things are a little overwhelming right now. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The sincerity in her voice was real, but Yeji couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story. She held Y/N’s gaze for a moment longer before nodding, though her unease lingered.

That night, as they lay in bed, Yeji noticed Y/N’s breathing was uneven. She turned over to see Y/N staring at the ceiling, her expression tense.

“Can’t sleep?” Yeji whispered, brushing her hand gently along Y/N’s arm.

Y/N startled slightly but quickly composed herself. “Just thinking,” she murmured.

“About what?” Yeji asked, her tone soft and inviting.

“Nothing important,” Y/N replied after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned toward Yeji and kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep, Yeji. I’m okay.”

Yeji wanted to believe her, but as she drifted off, she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something was slipping away between them.

Meanwhile, Y/N sat up, pulling the blanket around herself as the weight of her family’s financial troubles pressed down like an iron cage. Tears pricked her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. For Yeji’s sake, she couldn’t break. Not yet.

Few days later Y/N paced the length of her small apartment, her footsteps echoing faintly against the hardwood floor. Her mind raced, thoughts colliding like crashing waves. She couldn’t unhear her parents’ voices from the earlier phone call, the tremble in her mother’s tone as she begged for time they didn’t have.

“The bank isn’t waiting anymore, Y/N. If we don’t pay by next month, they’ll take everything. I don’t know what to do,” her mother had said, her words heavy with despair.

Her father’s voice had been quieter but no less desperate. “We hate asking you for help, but we don’t have anyone else.”

The weight of their words pressed down on her now, suffocating and inescapable. Her chest tightened as she replayed the conversation, the enormity of their situation looming over her like a storm cloud.

There was no relief in sight. No miracle solution. She’d gone over the numbers a hundred times, scoured job boards, researched financial assistance programs, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Her heart clenched painfully as her thoughts drifted to Yeji. Sweet, wonderful Yeji, who had been nothing but supportive and loving. Yeji, who deserved someone who could give her everything, not someone drowning in personal burdens.

Y/N’s stomach churned as she thought about what she was about to do. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if trying to hold herself together, as if willing her heart to stop breaking. But it was no use.

She glanced toward the couch, where Yeji had sat just the night before, her eyes filled with concern as she asked, “Are you happy?” The memory twisted the knife in Y/N’s chest.

How could she ever make Yeji understand? That this wasn’t about love, it was about protecting her.

Y/N crossed the room and sat down at her small desk, pulling out an old notebook. The pages were filled with doodles and random notes, remnants of brighter days. She flipped to a blank page and stared at it for a long moment, the pen in her hand trembling.

She started writing, the words jagged and uneven as they poured out of her.

She needs to hate me. It’s the only way.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she forced herself to keep going, jotting down half-formed ideas. She couldn’t simply ghost Yeji, that would only hurt her more. It had to be clean. Final. No room for reconciliation, no lingering doubts.

But how? How could she push away the one person who had always been her light, her safe haven? The thought of Yeji’s smile fading, of her warmth turning cold, made Y/N’s chest ache. She paused, the pen hovering over the page, and buried her face in her hands.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, her voice breaking. “You have to.”

Hours passed as she agonized over her plan. She scribbled ideas and crossed them out, each one feeling crueler than the last. Insults? Too transparent. A fake betrayal? Too complicated. No, this had to be simple and believable.

Finally, she decided. A clean break. She would tell Yeji she couldn’t love her. That she’d tried, but her heart simply wouldn’t allow it.

Y/N’s stomach churned as she wrote down the words she would say, each one slicing through her like a blade. When she was done, she stared at the page, her vision blurry with tears.

“I can’t love you. I’ve tried, Yeji, but I can’t.”

The lie sat heavy on the paper, stark and final. She hated it. Hated herself for even thinking about it. But she knew it was the only way.

She sat back in her chair, her head falling into her hands. Her shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked her body. She cried for the love she was about to lose, for the future she had dreamed of but could no longer have.

When the tears finally stopped, she wiped her face and squared her shoulders. She had no choice. Yeji deserved to be free, to find someone who could love her fully without reservation.

Standing up, Y/N glanced at her reflection in the window. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, but there was a steely resolve in her gaze.

“This is the right thing to do,” she whispered, as if saying it out loud would make it hurt less.

But as she turned off the lights and climbed into bed, her chest felt hollow. She lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with what-ifs and maybes.

Morning came too soon, and with it, the unbearable reality of what she had to do.

Y/N invited Yeji over the following evening, texting her with a simple, “Can we talk?” The message was short, neutral on the surface, but her hands trembled as she typed it. Her heart felt heavy, every beat a painful reminder of what she was about to do.

She stared at the screen for a moment after sending it, wondering if she could still take it all back. But the knot in her chest tightened, and she reminded herself why this was necessary. This was for Yeji.

When Yeji arrived, she was dressed in a loose sweater and jeans, her casual outfit doing little to hide her natural beauty. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Y/N, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“Hey,” Yeji greeted, her voice full of affection as she leaned in for a hug.

Y/N stepped back, avoiding Yeji’s embrace. The small gesture was enough to make Yeji pause, her smile faltering slightly.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, her voice tight, the word catching in her throat. “Come in.”

Yeji frowned slightly but didn’t comment. She stepped inside, taking a moment to glance around the apartment. It was unusually tidy, too tidy. The cushions on the couch were perfectly arranged, the countertops wiped clean, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

“Everything okay?” Yeji asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern. She turned back to Y/N, her eyes searching for answers. “You sounded a bit off earlier.”

Y/N couldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, she busied herself with small, pointless tasks, adjusting a picture frame on the counter, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles on her shirt. She felt Yeji’s gaze on her, steady and patient, as if waiting for her to gather the courage to speak.

Finally, Y/N turned to face her, forcing herself to keep her expression blank. “Yeji, we need to talk.”

Yeji tilted her head slightly, her smile dimming. “What’s going on?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, each beat a desperate plea to stop, to rethink. But it was too late now.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” she began, her voice steady but cold. “And I realized… this isn’t working for me anymore.”

The words felt foreign, like they didn’t belong to her. They tasted bitter on her tongue, and she had to clench her fists to keep from trembling.

Yeji’s smile vanished completely, replaced by a look of confusion. “What?” she asked softly, her voice barely audible.

“I’ve tried, Yeji,” Y/N continued, forcing herself to hold Yeji’s gaze. Her chest ached with every word, but she didn’t let it show. “I’ve tried to love you. But I can’t.”

Yeji stepped closer, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for Y/N. “What are you talking about? Everything’s been fine… hasn’t it? Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N flinched at the raw vulnerability in Yeji’s voice. She wanted so badly to close the distance between them, to take Yeji’s hands in hers and tell her the truth. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted Yeji to move on.

“No,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “It’s not about you, Yeji. It’s me. I just… I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”

“You’re lying,” Yeji said, her voice trembling. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she stepped closer again, refusing to back down. “I know you, Y/N. I know something’s been bothering you. Just tell me what it is. We can work through it together.”

Y/N’s resolve wavered, cracks forming in the icy wall she’d built around herself. She wanted to crumble, to let Yeji’s warmth melt away the pain. But she reminded herself why she was doing this.

“There’s nothing to work through,” Y/N said, her voice colder than she thought possible. “We’re just not right for each other. You’ll see that eventually.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Yeji stared at her, the confusion on her face slowly giving way to pain.

“Y/N,” Yeji said again, her voice breaking. She reached for Y/N’s hand, but Y/N pulled away, the motion sharp and final.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her gaze dropping to the floor. She couldn’t look at Yeji, not when she knew she’d see her heart breaking.

Yeji took a shaky breath, her shoulders trembling as she fought to keep her composure. “I love you, Y/N,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you want me to leave… I will. I just hope you know that this hurts more than anything.”

The words were a dagger to Y/N’s heart. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Not yet.

Yeji waited for a moment, as if hoping Y/N would stop her, would say something to take it all back. But when Y/N remained silent, her expression unreadable, Yeji nodded. Her face crumpled as she turned and walked toward the door.

Each step Yeji took felt like another crack in Y/N’s resolve, another piece of her heart breaking. When the door clicked shut behind her, Y/N collapsed onto the floor, the sobs she’d been holding back finally breaking free.

Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her knees to her chest, her entire body shaking with the force of her grief.

“I love you,” she whispered into the empty apartment, the words finally escaping her lips. “I love you too much to drag you down with me.”

The days after the breakup blurred into a relentless haze for Y/N. Her once-vivid world had dulled, the colors of her life now muted by an oppressive gray. Her apartment, once filled with warmth and laughter, now felt suffocatingly quiet. It was the kind of silence that didn’t comfort but weighed down on her, pressing into her chest like an unbearable weight.

Every corner of the space was a reminder of Yeji. The faint scent of her perfume still lingered on the couch cushions, a cruel ghost of her presence. The half empty bottle of soda Yeji had left in the fridge mocked Y/N every time she opened the door, its bright logo a jarring contrast to the void inside her. Even the mismatched mugs on the counter brought back memories, Yeji had always insisted on using the chipped one because she thought it had "character."

Y/N buried herself in work, throwing every ounce of energy she had into taking on as many shifts and freelance gigs as she could find. She told herself it was for her family, that every sleepless night, every skipped meal, was a step closer to fixing the financial mess they were in.

But deep down, she knew she was running. Running from the memories that clung to her like shadows. Running from the ache in her chest that never seemed to lessen, no matter how much she distracted herself. And running from the sound of Yeji’s voice that echoed in her mind, the words she could never forget.

“I love you, Y/N. I don’t know what’s going on, but if you want me to leave… I will.”

Those words haunted her. They played on an endless loop in her head, a cruel reminder of what she had lost. She had wanted to scream at Yeji that night, to beg her to stay, but instead, she’d let her walk away.

The mirror in the bathroom startled her one morning. She’d been so lost in thought, so accustomed to moving through life like a ghost, that she hardly recognized the person staring back at her.

Her eyes, once bright and expressive, were hollow, rimmed with dark circles that spoke of too many sleepless nights. Her skin, once glowing with life, was pale and dull, her cheeks sunken from skipping meals. Her hair hung limply around her face, unstyled and unkempt.

She leaned forward, gripping the edges of the sink as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.

“This is fine,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking. “I’m fine.”

But the hollow echo of her words in the empty bathroom only made her feel worse.

She forced herself to leave the mirror and shuffle into the kitchen, where the countertops were cluttered with empty takeout containers, coffee-stained mugs, and unopened letters. Somewhere under the mess was her phone, buzzing incessantly.

She found it wedged under a stack of overdue notices, the screen lighting up with a message from Ryujin “Haven’t heard from you in weeks. You okay?”

Y/N stared at the text for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She could almost hear Ryujin’s voice, firm, no-nonsense, but tinged with the quiet worry of someone who cared.

She wanted to tell the truth, to pour out everything she’d been holding in. But the thought of admitting how far she’d fallen felt unbearable.

Finally, she typed back, “Just busy. Everything’s fine.”

She hit send and set the phone down, ignoring the knot of guilt twisting in her stomach. It wasn’t fine. She wasn’t fine. But admitting that felt like a defeat she couldn’t afford.

As the hours blurred into days, Y/N continued her descent. Her world became a monotonous cycle of work and exhaustion, her once vibrant personality fading into something barely recognizable.

Her apartment grew more cluttered, the piles of laundry and empty wrappers a physical manifestation of the chaos she felt inside. The scent of Yeji’s perfume had faded now, but Y/N swore she could still feel her presence sometimes, a phantom warmth on the couch, a ghostly echo of her laughter in the quiet nights.

Every so often, Y/N caught herself reaching for her phone, her thumb hovering over Yeji’s contact. She wanted to check in, to make sure Yeji was okay. But she always stopped herself. What could she say?

“I miss you.” “I lied, and I’m sorry.”

None of those were options. So instead, she buried herself deeper into work, into the cycle of distraction that kept her from falling apart completely. But no matter how hard she tried to run, she couldn’t escape the truth.

She was a shadow of herself, and the weight of everything, her family’s struggles, the breakup, the loneliness, was dragging her down, piece by piece.

It was only a matter of time before Ryujin and Yuna showed up at her door. Y/N hadn’t expected it to be that Saturday afternoon, when she was hunched over her laptop at the kitchen table, trying to stay awake. The screen displayed a spreadsheet of her finances, neatly organized columns of expenses and income. Despite her meticulous budgeting, the numbers never seemed to stretch far enough.

She had just finished transferring most of her paycheck to her parents. Rent, utilities, and her phone bill were covered, but the little that remained was hardly enough for groceries. She had grown used to eating less, instant noodles and black coffee had become her staples. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a small price to pay to keep her parents afloat.

The knock at the door startled her, pulling her from her thoughts. She froze, her heart racing as she debated pretending she wasn’t home.

“Y/N, we know you’re in there,” Ryujin’s voice called through the door, firm but tinged with concern.

“Open up,” Yuna added, softer but no less insistent. “We just want to check on you.”

Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and letting it sit among the clutter on the table. There was no point in pretending.

Dragging herself to the door, she unlocked it without bothering to tidy up. She barely had the energy to stand, let alone put up a front.

Ryujin and Yuna stepped inside, their worried expressions immediately shifting to shock as they took in the state of the apartment. The cozy space was unrecognizable, empty coffee cups and crumpled wrappers littered the table and counters. A few unopened letters sat neatly on the counter, but the rest of the apartment felt lifeless, almost as if no one lived there.

But it was Y/N herself that alarmed them the most. Her clothes hung loosely on her frame, her posture slouched with exhaustion. Her cheeks were hollow, her complexion pale, and her eyes were dull and rimmed with dark circles.

“Y/N…” Yuna began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. Her hand covered her mouth, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Ryujin, less inclined to mince words, didn’t hesitate. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded, crossing her arms. Her tone was sharp, but her eyes betrayed her worry. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N replied flatly, her voice devoid of emotion. She sank onto the couch, the motion slow and heavy, like her body was weighed down by invisible chains. She waved a hand dismissively, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Just busy. Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t give us that,” Ryujin snapped, stepping closer. She gestured around the room, her frustration growing. “You’ve been avoiding everyone. Your apartment looks like this, and you look like… like you haven’t slept in weeks. This isn’t fine, Y/N. Not even close.”

Y/N looked away, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. She wanted to tell them to leave, to insist again that she was fine, but the words caught in her throat.

Instead, she muttered, “How’s Yeji?”

The question hung in the air, the room falling silent. Her voice had broken slightly as she said the name, betraying the emotions she had tried so hard to bury.

Ryujin and Yuna exchanged a glance, their concern deepening.

Yuna moved closer, kneeling beside Y/N. She placed a gentle hand on Y/N’s arm, her voice soft and understanding. “Y/N, what’s really going on? Is this about Yeji?”

Y/N’s carefully constructed walls crumbled in an instant. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head, her words tumbling out in broken sobs. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to let her go. She deserves better, someone who isn’t constantly… constantly stretched thin, someone who can give her everything.”

Her voice cracked as she continued. “I send almost everything I make to my parents. They’re drowning, and this is the only way I can help them. I barely even buy groceries anymore, I can’t justify spending the money when they need it more.”

Ryujin’s expression softened as she exchanged a glance with Yuna. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped.”

“I couldn’t,” Y/N whispered. “I didn’t want anyone to know. And I couldn’t let her know. She was so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that. I thought… I thought if I made her hate me, it would be easier for her to move on.”

Yuna wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug as she cried. Y/N clung to her like a lifeline, her body shaking with the force of her sobs.

Ryujin sat down on the couch beside them, her jaw tight with frustration but her eyes filled with sympathy. She reached over and placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Y/N,” Ryujin said, her tone softer now. “Why didn’t you ask for help? You didn’t have to do this alone. You didn’t have to push her away.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her voice a whisper. “I couldn’t. She deserves someone who can take care of her. Someone who isn’t like this.”

Ryujin frowned, her gaze hardening. “You don’t get to decide that for her. Or for us. You’re tearing yourself apart, and for what? To protect her? To protect us? You think we don’t care about you, too?”

Y/N shook her head, unable to respond. The weight of her choices pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless.

Yuna brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, her voice gentle. “You love her, don’t you?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and she nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face. “More than anything,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But it doesn’t matter. She deserves more than I can give her.”

Yuna tightened her embrace, her heart breaking for her friend. Ryujin leaned back against the couch, exhaling deeply as she tried to rein in her emotions.

“We need to do something,” Ryujin muttered, her tone resolute. “This can’t go on.”

Yuna nodded, her hand still resting on Y/N’s arm. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For the first time in weeks, Y/N didn’t feel completely alone.

When they left Y/N’s apartment later that evening, the weight of what they had seen lingered heavily in the air. Yuna turned to Ryujin as they walked down the dimly lit street, her steps purposeful.

“We need to tell Yeji,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Ryujin hesitated, her brow furrowing in thought. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone cautious. “She’s still hurt. What if she doesn’t want to hear it? What if it just makes things worse?”

“She deserves to know the truth,” Yuna replied, determination in her voice. “Y/N’s falling apart, and it’s clear she still loves her. If we don’t do something, they’ll both keep hurting. And I’m not just going to stand by and watch that happen.”

Ryujin sighed, running a hand through her hair as she considered Yuna’s words. She hated the idea of reopening the wounds, but she couldn’t ignore the reality of Y/N’s condition. After a few moments of deliberation, she nodded.

“All right,” she said.

That night, they texted Yeji, asking to meet up. The reply came quickly, a simple “Okay. Where and when?” but the tension behind it was palpable.

The next day, the three of them sat at a small table in a quiet café. The atmosphere was subdued, the faint hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups filling the space.

Yeji arrived last, her entrance marked by the soft jingle of the doorbell. She looked striking as always, but there was a guardedness to her expression that hadn’t been there before. Her eyes were sharp, her shoulders set in a posture that said she was ready to protect herself.

She slid into the seat across from Ryujin and Yuna without a word, her gaze flicking between them. “What’s this about?” she asked, her tone clipped, though it lacked the bite it might have carried weeks ago.

Ryujin and Yuna exchanged a glance before Ryujin took the lead. “It’s about Y/N,” she said, her voice steady but serious. “She’s not okay.”

Yeji’s eyes flickered with something, concern, maybe, but she quickly masked it, her jaw tightening. “She pushed me away,” she said, her voice sharp with lingering hurt. “What do you expect me to do? She didn’t care about me anymore.”

“She didn’t push you away because she stopped caring,” Yuna interjected gently, leaning forward. “She did it because she thought she had to. Her family’s in serious financial trouble, Yeji. She’s been working herself into the ground trying to help them.”

Yeji’s eyes narrowed slightly, her posture stiffening. “Why didn’t she just tell me?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

“She thought she couldn’t give you what you deserved,” Ryujin said. “She thought you’d be better off without her, so she lied. She said she couldn’t love you because she thought it would make things easier for you.”

Yeji froze, the weight of their words sinking in. Her hands clenched into fists on the table as she looked down, her jaw tight. She had suspected there was more to Y/N’s behavior, but hearing the truth laid bare felt like a punch to the gut.

Yuna’s voice softened as she continued. “She’s killing herself trying to fix everything on her own. She barely eats because she’s sending most of her money to her parents. Her apartment’s a mess, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks.” Yuna paused, her eyes searching Yeji’s. “But she still cares about you. The moment we walked into her apartment, she asked about you.”

For a long moment, Yeji said nothing. Her emotions warred within her, anger at Y/N for lying, guilt for not seeing through it sooner, and a deep, aching love that she had tried to bury but couldn’t.

Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t she just tell me?” she repeated, her tone quieter now. “We could’ve… we could’ve figured it out together.”

Ryujin sighed, her gaze steady. “She thought she was protecting you.”

Yeji let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She blinked them away quickly, as though refusing to let herself fall apart. “I don’t know if I can forgive her for lying to me like that,” she admitted. “But… I need to see her.”

Yuna reached across the table, her hand covering Yeji’s. “Just talk to her,” she said gently. “If nothing else, you both need closure. And maybe… maybe she needs to hear that you still care, even if it doesn’t fix everything right away.”

Yeji hesitated, her eyes flicking to the table. Her fingers tapped nervously against her mug.

“I don’t even know what I’d say,” she murmured. “I’m still so… angry. But I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Ryujin leaned forward, her voice firm. “Say whatever’s on your mind. Be angry if you need to. Just go. She needs you, Yeji, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yeji nodded, her resolve hardening.

“I’ll go,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing within her.

Ryujin and Yuna exchanged a look of relief, but neither said anything.

The knock on Y/N’s door came late in the afternoon, shattering the eerie stillness that had wrapped itself around the apartment like a suffocating blanket. Inside, Y/N was barely conscious, slumped on the couch with her head resting on a pile of disorganized papers. Her laptop, still glowing faintly, hummed on the cluttered coffee table, its screen frozen on an unfinished document.

Yeji knocked again, this time with more force. Her voice, sharp with worry, cut through the silence. “Y/N! Are you in there?”

The sound registered faintly in Y/N’s fever clouded mind. She stirred weakly at the sound of her name, her eyelids fluttering but too heavy to fully open. Her head pounded relentlessly, and her limbs felt like they were made of lead. The fever that had been simmering for days had finally overtaken her, sapping what little strength she had left.

Yeji’s heart pounded in her chest when no answer came. Her worry deepened, her mind racing through worst case scenarios. She dug through her bag, her fingers trembling as she found the spare key Y/N had given her months ago, back when they were inseparable and such gestures were effortless.

Sliding the key into the lock, Yeji opened the door and stepped inside, bracing herself for whatever she might find.

The sight that greeted her knocked the air from her lungs.

The apartment was in complete disarray. Empty coffee cups and crumpled containers were scattered across the table and counters. A jacket was draped carelessly over the back of a chair, and a mountain of unopened mail had spilled onto the floor near the door. The faint smell of stale food hung in the air, mixing with the faintly metallic tang of fever sweat.

And there, on the couch, was Y/N.

She looked impossibly small and fragile, a pale shadow of the person Yeji remembered. Her skin, usually glowing with vitality, was ashen and glistening with sweat. Her hair clung to her damp forehead in messy strands. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, and her face, slack with exhaustion, was framed by dark shadows under her closed eyes.

“Y/N!” Yeji’s voice cracked as she rushed to her side, her heart racing in panic. Kneeling beside her, she pressed the back of her hand to Y/N’s forehead and immediately winced at the searing heat.

“God, you’re burning up,” Yeji muttered, her voice breaking.

She didn’t waste a second. Dropping her bag to the floor, she hurried to the kitchen. Her movements were frantic as she filled a bowl with cool water, her shaking hands splashing it onto the counter. Grabbing a clean cloth from a drawer, she returned to Y/N’s side, her stomach twisting at the sight of her still form.

Kneeling again, Yeji folded the damp cloth and placed it gently on Y/N’s forehead. She smoothed Y/N’s damp hair away from her face, her fingers trembling.

“Y/N…” Yeji whispered, her voice heavy with emotions she didn’t have the strength to untangle.

Y/N stirred at the cool touch, her lips parting as she croaked weakly, “Yeji…?”

The sound of her name on Y/N’s lips was both a relief and a dagger. Yeji leaned closer, her voice steady but firm. “Shh, don’t talk. You’re sick, Y/N. Just rest.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed again, her head lolling to the side. Yeji stayed beside her for a long moment, her chest aching as she took in every detail of Y/N’s fragile state.

“How long have you been like this?” Yeji murmured, her throat tightening. The thought of Y/N struggling like this, alone, pushing herself to the brink, made her chest swell with a mix of anger and heartbreak.

She forced herself to her feet, looking around the apartment. The disarray was overwhelming, but it was nothing she couldn’t fix. Rolling up her sleeves, Yeji got to work.

She cleared the clutter from the table, tossing out the trash and empty containers. She stacked the unopened mail neatly on the counter, her eyes scanning the envelopes for anything urgent. She folded the jacket draped over the chair and straightened the cushions on the couch.

Her movements were quick and purposeful, but every action was fueled by a swirl of emotions, frustration at Y/N for letting things get this bad, anger at herself for not seeing the signs sooner, and a deep, aching love that made her want to take all of Y/N’s burdens onto her own shoulders.

As night fell, Yeji stayed by Y/N’s side, checking her fever and swapping out the cloth on her forehead. Forcing Y/N to take medicine, her voice gentle but insistent.

“You need to drink this, Y/N,” she murmured, holding the glass to Y/N’s lips. When Y/N managed a few sips, Yeji set the glass down and tucked the blanket more securely around her shivering frame.

Sitting back, Yeji brushed a hand over her face, exhaustion creeping in. But she refused to let herself rest. Not when Y/N needed her.

Her eyes softened as she watched Y/N’s sleeping form. “You’re not doing this alone anymore,” Yeji whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “I won’t let you.”

The words hung in the still air, a promise she intended to keep.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting warm streaks of light across the living room. The golden rays fell on Y/N’s face, coaxing her from a restless sleep. She stirred groggily, blinking against the brightness, her head pounding less than it had the night before but her body still heavy with weakness.

Her surroundings were unfamiliar, not in the way of being somewhere new, but in how they felt transformed. The cluttered mess she had grown used to was gone. Papers that once spilled over the coffee table were neatly stacked, and the floor was now spotless.

Y/N sat up slowly, her movements sluggish. Her blanket slipped to the floor as she swung her legs off the couch, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor. Confusion settled in her chest, her groggy mind struggling to process the change.

Then she heard it, the faint sound of clanging pots and soft muttering coming from the kitchen.

Her heart skipped a beat as recognition hit her like a jolt. She would have known that voice anywhere.

“Why is this pan sticking? I swear it’s supposed to be nonstick…”

Y/N pushed herself to her feet, her body protesting the movement, but she didn’t care. She padded slowly toward the kitchen, her breaths shallow, her pulse racing.

When she reached the doorway, she stopped, her breath catching in her throat.

Yeji stood at the stove, her back to Y/N. Her hair was tied back in a loose, messy bun, and she wore one of Y/N’s oversized sweatshirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The sight was achingly familiar, yet it made Y/N’s chest ache with a mix of disbelief and longing.

“Yeji…?” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, weak from days of fever and exhaustion, but it carried a note of wonder, as if she couldn’t believe her own eyes.

Yeji froze for a moment before turning slowly, the spatula in her hand forgotten as her eyes met Y/N’s.

“You’re awake,” Yeji said softly, her expression shifting from surprise to relief. She set the spatula down on the counter and crossed the room in a few quick strides, her hands reaching out to steady Y/N. “You should be resting.”

Y/N let herself be guided to a chair at the small kitchen table, her mind spinning as Yeji helped her sit. “Why are you here?” she asked, her voice trembling with confusion and vulnerability.

Yeji’s jaw tightened slightly, her expression flickering with something unreadable. “Because someone had to be,” she said simply, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. “You scared me, Y/N. Do you even realize how bad things have gotten for you?”

Y/N looked away, shame pooling in her chest. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, avoiding Yeji’s gaze. “I was fine,” she murmured weakly.

“Fine?” Yeji repeated, her voice rising slightly, incredulous. “You call this fine? You’re sick, your apartment was a disaster, and you’ve been running yourself into the ground! This isn’t fine, Y/N! It’s self destruction!”

The sharpness in Yeji’s voice was like a slap, and Y/N flinched. She opened her mouth to respond, but Yeji didn’t give her the chance.

“You didn’t fall out of love with me, did you?” Yeji asked, her voice breaking as she stepped closer, her eyes locked on Y/N’s. “That’s what you said when you broke up with me. That you couldn’t love me. But it wasn’t true, was it?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Yeji, please…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“No,” Yeji said firmly, her voice trembling with emotion. “I need to know, Y/N. I need to hear the truth. Did you ever stop loving me?”

Y/N’s carefully constructed walls crumbled under the weight of Yeji’s words. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as sobs tore through her. “Do you think I wanted to?” she cried, her voice raw with anguish. “I love you, Yeji. I love you with my whole heart.”

Yeji froze, her own eyes filling with tears as she watched Y/N fall apart in front of her.

“I didn’t want to let you go,” Y/N continued, her words tumbling out between sobs. “But my family… they’re drowning, Yeji. I’m the only one who can help them. I didn’t want you to be dragged into my mess. I thought if I pushed you away, it would be easier for you. Easier to move on.”

Yeji stepped closer, kneeling in front of Y/N as she gently pulled her hands away from her tear-streaked face. “You didn’t have to do this alone,” she said softly, her voice shaking with emotion. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Y/N. I love you. We could’ve faced this together.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve better. Someone who isn’t struggling like me, who can treat you right, who can spoil you. Not someone who sends almost every penny away.”

Yeji’s expression softened, but there was a fierceness in her eyes, shining with unshed tears as she reached for Y/N’s hands. She held them tightly, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “Stop. You think I care about being spoiled? I don’t need perfect dates or expensive gifts. I need you. You’re not broken, and you’re not less because you’re helping your family. You’re human. And I love you for all of it, for who you are, for the way you care so much, even when it hurts you. So stop pushing me away. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The words hung in the air, a fragile but unyielding promise. Y/N stared at Yeji, her breath catching as the weight of her guilt and loneliness began to lift.

“You… you shouldn’t have come,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling.

“But I did,” Yeji said, her voice steady now. “And I’m staying. You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Y/N. Let me help you.”

For the first time in weeks, Y/N allowed herself to believe in the possibility of something brighter. She leaned forward, her forehead resting against Yeji’s as fresh tears fell silently down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “For lying, for pushing you away. I thought it was the only way—”

“Shh,” Yeji soothed, pulling back just enough to cup Y/N’s face in her hands. “It’s okay. I understand. But you don’t have to protect me from your struggles. I want to be there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from guilt or sadness, it was from the overwhelming warmth of being truly seen and loved.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other as the morning sunlight filtered through the room. It was a quiet, unspoken promise between them, to be each other’s strength, to share the burdens and joys of life together.

Over the following weeks, things began to change. Slowly at first, small, hesitant steps but with Yeji by her side, Y/N started finding her footing again. It was like the heavy fog that had clouded her life was gradually lifting, letting in rays of light and warmth she hadn’t felt in months.

Yeji approached Y/N’s struggles with quiet determination. She wasn’t overbearing, she was patient and steady, offering her support in a way that felt natural and unforced. Together, they tackled the chaos one piece at a time.

The unopened mail was their first challenge. Yeji sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through stacks of envelopes while Y/N, still hesitant, hovered nearby.

“Bill,” Yeji said, holding up one envelope. “Bill. Junk mail. Ooh, a coupon for a free coffee, score!” She grinned, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile faintly in return.

Bit by bit, they made progress. They created a detailed budget that balanced Y/N’s own expenses with the money she sent to her parents. Yeji even joined Y/N on a call to her family, offering gentle but firm suggestions for ways to ease the financial strain. Y/N’s parents were initially hesitant, but Yeji’s calm reassurance helped them see the bigger picture.

“It won’t solve everything overnight,” Yeji had said after the call, her hand resting on Y/N’s shoulder, “but it’s a start. And that’s enough for now.”

The weight that had once seemed unbearable felt lighter now that Y/N wasn’t carrying it alone.

One evening, as they finished tidying up the apartment, Yeji surveyed their work with satisfaction. The chaos was gone, replaced by an airy, comfortable space that felt like a fresh start.

“I’m proud of you,” Yeji said, turning to Y/N with a warm smile. “You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the compliment. She hadn’t felt proud of herself in a long time. But looking around the apartment and feeling the steadiness in Yeji’s gaze, she allowed herself to believe it.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Y/N said, her smile growing into the first genuine, carefree expression Yeji had seen in weeks.

They worked as a team, their combined strength shining in every step they took. Y/N started eating regularly again, encouraged by Yeji’s gentle persistence.

“Two meals a day,” Yeji insisted one afternoon as they browsed the grocery store aisles. “Three if I can sneak in breakfast.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but relented. “Fine, but only if you don’t burn everything we buy.”

“I make no promises,” Yeji replied, grinning.

Cooking together became a new routine. Y/N stuck to simple meals, while Yeji attempted to assist, often with mixed results. Once, while trying to stir a pot of soup, Yeji accidentally splashed tomato broth onto the counter.

“Is it supposed to look like this?” Yeji asked, staring dubiously at the lumpy consistency of her attempt at mashed potatoes.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “No, but it’s fine. You’re charming enough to distract me from the disaster.”

Their laughter filled the kitchen, a sound that had been missing for far too long.

Y/N slept better, too. The nights, once filled with restless thoughts and self-doubt, became moments of peace. Some evenings, Yeji would sit beside her, running her fingers through Y/N’s hair until her breathing evened out.

Together, they also found small moments of joy amid the challenges. They spent lazy afternoons cuddling on the couch, watching movies neither of them paid much attention to because they were too busy whispering to each other.

Evening walks became another ritual. They wandered the quiet streets, hands brushing together until Yeji finally linked their fingers. They talked about everything and nothing, about their dreams, their fears, and the silly, inconsequential things that made them laugh.

“You know,” Yeji said during one such walk, her voice teasing, “if this whole cooking thing doesn’t work out, I could always become a professional pancake flipper. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

Y/N burst out laughing, leaning into Yeji’s shoulder. “If by ‘getting the hang of it,’ you mean traumatizing every pan in my kitchen, then sure. You’re practically a chef.”

Their mornings were filled with similar laughter. Yeji insisted on trying her hand at breakfast, and Y/N often sat at the table, nursing a cup of tea and watching the chaos unfold.

“Why does this toaster hate me?” Yeji grumbled one morning, glaring at the device as it stubbornly refused to toast evenly.

“It’s probably afraid you’ll set it on fire,” Y/N teased, grinning over the rim of her mug.

Yeji shot her a mock glare, but her smile betrayed her.

Every small moment, every shared laugh and quiet embrace, brought them closer. They weren’t perfect, there were still challenges to face, and Y/N’s family’s financial situation remained an ongoing concern but they were stronger together.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just surviving. She was living.

[dylansfavwife]

୨ৎ theodore nott x fem!reader

୨ৎ summary : when you haven’t been feeling too well but theo’s there to comfort you

the loud hum of music did nothing to drown out your constant thoughts. you were consumed by meaningless worries as you overthought any interaction you’ve had your entire life.

with a sigh you turned to lay on your other side. and then switched sides again, still lacking any comfort in which your bed would normally bring. it was there to wrap you in warmth as you lost yourself in sleep and daydreams but instead you were trapped in a nightmare of your own thoughts.

your life was great. you had friends who you cared for deeply and your studies were going well which is why you couldn’t understand this feeling itching away at you. it was burning you up from the inside but you didn’t know why you felt like this.

you had no reason to be upset yet the feeling stayed persistent no matter how much you tried to shut it down. something was wrong, you just wished you knew what it was.

this feeling had been creeping behind you for weeks, weighing you down as you tried to carry out your daily tasks. it felt exhausting as you held a smile and laughed with your friends before spending the night tossing and turning.

you heard a knock on the door, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. it wasn’t too late in the afternoon and none of your friends had yet to return to the solace of the dorm. then you heard it again, rapid knocks and back and forth pacing.

“please, open the door”, you froze hearing theodore’s voice. it sent a familiar comfort to you as you realised how long it had been since you two have had a proper conversation. it wasn’t like you were purposely ignoring him, but when you felt yourself being wrapped in constant anxiety and frustration, you had instinctively pulled away from those you were closest too, not wanting them to know how lost you’d been feeling.

“i know your there, i mi- i wanna talk and see how your doing, please open the door” theodore sounded desperate as he rushed his words out, his tone snapping you back into reality as you quickly got up, and unlocked the door.

you sighed preparing yourself for a lecture but were surprised to see theo in a huge mess, his hair was unkept from constantly brushing his hands through it, his eye bags were prominent and shade of purple and his eyes were instantly searching you with visible concern.

then something even more unexpected happened. you felt him pull you into a tight embrace. you were still for a moment, shocked, knowing how much he despised hugs.

quickly though, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck as you allowed yourself to hide away from your own feelings and drape yourself in the comfort he gave you. his rough hands were gently wrapped around your waist as his thumb mindlessly grazed your skin back and forth, the small touch grounding you.

much too soon you both were pulling away and you felt amused noticing the embarrassed look on his face, unsure how to act after that simple act of gentleness because you both knew it meant more than you’d admit.

you moved to sit down on your bed as theo looked you over curiously, “are you okay?” he asked, sitting down beside you.

you forced a smile on your face as you replied, “of course i’m fine!” he eyed you skeptically, not believing your words.

“you’ve been acting really off and i want you to know you can talk to me” he admitted, his voice so soft in a way you’d never heard before, he was looking at you so desperately wanting to make sure you were okay that it pulled at your heartstrings.

you sighed knowing that theo has always been there for you and there isn’t a single thing you can’t tell him. “i- i’m not even sure what’s going on, everything just feels so weird and i can’t stop feeling upset all the time” the words started falling out your mouth as you spilled in slurred sentences how you had been feeling recently.

you hadn’t even noticed that tears has began to fall till theodore’s thumb was wiping them away, so gently. once you’d finished your rambling you met his eyes which were looking at you so intensely, his relaxing deep caramel eyes that made you feel so protected like no bad thoughts could get you while he was here.

he leaned in and left a delicate kiss to your forehead whispering “i’m here always” over and over, till you really believed that no matter what happens he’s always going to be there to protect and comfort you. just that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“next time you better tell me that you’re feeling like this so i can be there for you”. you nodded instantly “i promise”

he smiled knowing you would as he pulled you in his embrace once more. the smell of pine trees and other earthy scents was inviting as it flooded your senses, leaving you feeling serene.

you knew the pain would come back but felt soothed knowing that theo would be there to help ease your thoughts and care for you when you ached.

a.n : i wish i had a theo fr, i forgot how much i love writing fluff

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[averillaratargaryen]

‘The Bitter Bond.’

Chapter XV

“So what should we do” Aegon asks, as he was now stood in a room, beside both, Aemond and Daerlyssa.

“You have no choice, but to marry” Aemond responded.

“No. I can’t” Aegon shook his head.

“You have no choice” Aemond responds, “this wedding must take place.”

“Is no one listening to me? I do not want to be coming to a bed with a woman in it” Aegon then looks towards Daerlyssa, “with no offence.”

“Aegon, you are being selfish” Aemond scoffs, “Daerlyssa does not like you, yet she is marrying you for her family’s sake. The least you can do is accept it, for Daerlyssa’s sake.”

“And what if they ask for us to have children?” Aegon asks, “what then?”

“You will just..” Aemond swallows away his feelings, “you will have to make do.”

“I’m not sure I can even..” Aegon looks at himself in disgust, “.. i have never- with a woman, I mean- it’s impossible.”

“Aegon you are acting like a child” Aemond sighed.

“Am I? Or perhaps I am worried of the fact that we will end up just as our sister, Rhaenyra, birthing bastard children!” Aegon shouts out in frustration, before taking back his words when he notices the look in Daerlyssa’s eyes.

“Daerlyssa, I-”

“It is cruel of you to judge my family, Aegon” Daerlyssa responded, “Who is not to say they aren’t, given that both my grandmothers hold not only Baratheon blood, but Arryn blood too.”

“I didn’t mean to-!”

“But you have no right to judge, if my brothers are bastards. The legitimacy of my brothers’ birth should not be put to question, and certainly not by you” Daerlyssa responded, not letting Aegon apologise for his words, “just as their father Ser Laenor, he and you both suffered the same fate.”

“You mean-?” Aemond looked at her, slightly shocked but still confused.

“My mother and him tried. Many times, they had tried, yet it was not possible. My mother needed to birth heirs, and with my father married to Laena, my mother was given no choice” Daerlyssa explains.

“Look- I’m sorry, Daerlyssa. I spoke out of turn, I am just stressed” Aegon sighed.

“Is marrying me truly such a degrading act?” Daerlyssa asks, “if you can not give me children, then that is all well, we will not have children. I can make do without birthing.”

“But that is what is expected of us” Aegon looks at her pleadingly, “try to understand.”

“We will marry, as stay married until my grandfather has passed. Once the throne is given to my mother, I will leave” Daerlyssa explains her plan.

“Leave to where exactly?” Aemond interrupts, “you have no dragon, no guards, where will you go?”

“It does not matter. As long as it is believed I am dead, it will free Aegon from having me as his wife” Daerlyssa responds.

“So that is it then? We marry, into a loveless marriage, and whilst I’m out with the man I love, you will stay home in our chamber pretending? Is this what you truly want, Daerlyssa?” Aegon asks.

“I will make do” Daerlyssa responds, “now, if you do not mind, I shall like to leave. It is getting late, and I must get to bed.”

Before Aegon could speak another word to her, Daerlyssa had hurried past him, out the back door of Aemond’s chamber.

“Was it necessary?” Aemond asks his brother.

“I apologised” Aegon shrugged.

“Sometimes, it is hard to remember you are older than me, given that you lack such sense of maturity” Aemond responds.

Turning away, Aemond sighs, holding his head in despair, feeling far too under stress.

“Aemond.. do you really think that ought to happen?” Aegon asks.

“What?” Aemond turns back to face his brother, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“Would they have me usurp the throne?” Aegon asks.

“I do not know” Aemond shrugged, “of course, you are the first born son, it makes much more sense to have you be king, but father had already named his heir.”

“What would be the need of a usurpation then?” Aegon asks, “I don’t understand- we’re meant to be a family.”

“As father states, quite a lot, this family is divided. If you both marry, I suppose it puts at ease, that our sister Rhaenyra would have you to a sword, for the throne. It makes it easier for us all to accomplish what we need” Aemond responds.

“But what if..?” Aegon sighed, “what if I wanted to be king?”

“Do you?” Aemond asks, a slight scoff escaping him.

Aegon nods, understandably, as his brothers reaction, “right right. I am not suited to be a King, I’m aware. I do not even have the taste for such duties. But to think of being King, it would make my life much easier, given my nature.”

“It will make it much harder” Aemond corrects him, “being King does not mean you can do as you plead. You will have to continue to sneak around, as you do now.”

Aegon stared at him blankly.

“The idea of being caught as a prince is terrifying. Now imagine as a King” Aemond responds, seeing the realisation then hit his brother, “Rhaenyra is the heir. I’m sure she will make a fine Queen, and if not, better than our father.”

Aegon nods, “yes. Yes, I suppose you are right.”

-

As the afternoon came, to the following day, Daerlyssa was sat on a bench, within the gardens.

It was a windy afternoon, not many around, leaving her sat, isolated by herself, as she plucked onto the rose in her hand.

“Mind if I sit?” Daerlyssa looks up, after hearing her brother’s voice, to find Jacerys stood, looking down at her.

“Are you sure?” She asks, before turning her head away, “I thought by now, Daemon would have disowned me, and you all follow in his steps.”

“Do not be ridiculous” Jacerys sat himself beside her, “no matter what Daemon says, you are still my little sister.”

“Everyone is angry, for my acceptance to this alliance” Daerlyssa sighed, “I do not doubt you are too.”

“Surprisingly, no. I am not” Jacerys shrugged, having Daerlyssa turn to face him.

Looking back at her, he leans forward, towards her, “I am just shocked. I did not expect it, I mean, what of Lord Stark?”

“What of him?” Daerlyssa asks.

“Well, I- well all of us, thought you’d accept to marry him. Not Aegon” Jacerys explains.

“What good would it do, to have me marry Lord Stark?” Daerlyssa asks, “he is a grown man, who sees me to be just.. this little girl. Marrying him, I would have moved North. I would have no family with me.”

“I mean, you would make your own family” Jacerys mumbles as he shrugs, “but that is not my point. My point is, are you happy?”

“I am content” Daerlyssa responds.

“But are you happy?” Jacerys asks.

“What difference does it make?” Daerlyssa responds with another question.

“Daerlyssa, if you are not happy, then you should not marry Aegon. You should marry for love. Not for an alliance. I’m sure we can find many different ways to form an alliance” Jacerys responds.

“The family was divided the moment Alicent opened her mouth to her children about you being a bastard” Daerlyssa’s response had Jacerys taken back a bit, seeing that it was the first time he had seen her respond so harshly.

“And Lucerys then cutting out Aemond’s eye” Daerlyssa let out a sigh, “nothing easy can solve this matter. No easy alliance can come out of this.”

“Whatever had happened with us men, we are capable of sorting it out between us. You do not have to accept to marry Aegon, in order for us to get along” Jacerys responds, “besides, just the other day, me and Aegon both had a training session together, and it went well. We didn’t try to kill each other.”

“That is a start” Daerlyssa chuckled.

“But that is what I mean” Jacerys smiled back at her, “this marriage will not be necessary, if it is solely based on having our families connect with one another.”

“It is not that” Daerlyssa shook her head, “that is not my reason for marrying Aegon.”

“So answer me truthfully. Are you happy? Do you feel loved?” He asks.

Daerlyssa nods, “I am happy. The decision I have made, I am happy with it.”

“Then that is all that matters” Jacerys had bought himself closer to her, gliding one arm behind her shoulders, and the other around her, as she laid her head against his shoulder.

“Do you think Daemon hates me for my decision?” Daerlyssa asks.

“I don’t think he hates you. I just think he hates this family” Jacerys let out a soft chuckle.

-

Rhaenyra, that same afternoon, spent quite her time, searching for her daughter, in hopes of speaking to her.

Not realising Jacerys had beat her to it.

“Oh- Aemond!” Rhaenyra called out with an awkward smile, as she found her brother walking past.

“Yes?” Aemond looked at her confused.

“I’m sorry, I-? Have you seen Daerlyssa?” Rhaenyra asks.

“Jacerys was looking for her not too long ago. I suppose she is with him” Aemond responds.

“Right” Rhaenyra whispered.

As Aemond turned, to continue walking on, Rhaenyra had stopped him, as she stood in front of him, “i was hoping- we should speak, about Daerlyssa.”

“What of her?” Aemond asks.

“I know” Rhaenyra sighed.

The look on her face causing Aemond’s heart to sink.

…

“How long has it been, that the two of you have been.. invested in one another?” Rhaenyra asks.

“I’m not sure” Aemond responds, “I least expected it, just as you.”

“And is she aware? I mean, does she know of your feelings towards her?” Rhaenyra asks.

Before Aemond could speak the truth, he remembered the promise he made to Daerlyssa, and therefore, denied the truth, “no. That is why she is choosing to marry my brother.”

“No doubt, Aegon is a good man” Rhaenyra nods, “I am just worried for her safety.”

“Well, with guards around, you have nothing to worry about” Aemond shrugged, wishing to leave the conversation as he stood up.

“Aemond-!” Rhaenyra called out, watching him turn to look at her with displeasure.

With a sigh, she spoke, “I know, that you are not very fond of me, nor my children, given what had happened to you.”

“Hmm” Aemond looked at her, weary.

“But all I ask, if if this wedding takes place, that you take good care of my daughter” Rhaenyra pleads.

A plead that had Aemond’s eye soften.

“You are one of the strongest I have seen, here. Despite being the youngest, you are much more mature than your brother, and it occurred to me, that you are well aware of Daerlyssa. All I ask, is you do not fault her for what had happened to you, and that you take care of her” Rhaenyra explains.

With a soft smile, Aemond nods, “I wouldn’t plan to let harm come to her in the first place.”

-

The evening had come, as everyone was sat for dinner.

A much quieter dinner than usual.

“So” Viserys cleared his throat, “perhaps we should talk of wedding arrangements?”

“Nothing will be arranged until I’ve spoken to my daughter” Daemon spat out in response.

“What is there to speak of? She has accepted?” Viserys asks.

“That she is happy, for this to take place. That it was truly her choice, and not forced upon her” Daemon turns to glare at his brother, “you had forced your daughter, I do not see why wouldn’t try to do the same.”

“Rhaenyra was hardly forced, Daemon” Alicent spoke.

“It is a family matter, this does not concern you” Daemon responded harshly, before looking back to his brother.

“I did not force this upon her. The two of you forced it upon yourself, when you chose to engage improperly” Viserys responds.

“And I asked that you wed me to her, yet you denied” Daemon reminds him.

Rhaenyra looking at Daemon, confused, before looking towards her father, “is that true?”

“You could not marry each other, she was a child” Viserys looks towards Daemon, “and you were hardly man enough to cater to her.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, looking down at her plate, the realisation hitting her, of such a fued, wedged between the family, that all could have been avoided, if only her father accepted Daemon’s proposal.

“No. What your problem is, was yourself being manipulated by the words of your Hand. A man you put too much trust in, to not realise he will fuck you up” Daemon slammed his hand against the table.

“Daemon” Rhaenyra whispered, wishing for him to not create a scene, in front of her children nonetheless.

“He does not look happy” Lucerys points out.

“I do not see why he would be” Aegon mutters.

“Why? Are you not happy?” Jacerys asks.

“Of course I am” Aegon let out a smile, after being glared at by his brother, “I wished for this alliance to take place, but I chose not to speak on it, considering I did not know what Daerlyssa truly felt.

Daerlyssa, who was sat beside Aegon, as she quietly played with the food in her plate.

“Daerlyssa” Lucerys called out.

“Yes, I am happy” Daerlyssa responded, without looking up from her plate.

“You do not sound it” Lucerys scoffed.

“Perhaps due to Daemon’s anger” Aemond pointing out, having them all fall to silence again.

“I suppose it would be nice to have a sister” Helena then cleared her throat, “one that will be living with us, of course.”

“Yes. Braid each others hair, and pick out lavender bar soaps” Aegon scoffed.

“What is wrong with you?” Helena nudged him harshly.

“Nothing” sighed, rolling his eyes away from Helena, to meet Aemond’s glaring face again.

“Your awfully quiet, Daerlyssa” Helena rolled her eyes away from her brother Aegon, towards Daerlyssa.

Looking up, Daerlyssa played a smile on her face, yet again as she nods, “it would be nice for me to have a sister too.”

She was quick to turn her head away, looking forward to meet Aemond’s eye, who once glared at Aegon, now looked towards her, softening up the moment it caught her eyes.

-

“So, Daerlyssa” Rhaenyra cleared her throat, as she stood before her daughter, within her chamber, beside Daemon.

“I know what you wish to say” Daerlyssa nods, “I made this choice. The more I got to know Aegon, the more I have realised he makes a great husband.”

“The man is a drunk fool” Daemon points out.

“He hasn’t been drunk for over a month. You would have noticed, if you had come past your hatred for him” Daerlyssa responds.

Realising her rude tone, she sighed, “I have made my decision, there is nothing more to it.”

“Daerlyssa, if you marry him, you are alone in this marriage. Not I, nor your mother, will accept it” Daemon threatens.

“I know” she nods, slightly hurt by his words, “but I-?”

She clears her throat, trying her best to keep the facade up, “I love him. Aegon, I mean. I love him, and I am sure he loves me. I am happy.”

“Does he love you? Or are you his only chance to not get caught on the ways god has made him?” Daemon asks.

“Daemon, please” Rhaenyra pleaded, “we spoke about this.”

“You know?” Daerlyssa asks.

“That he is in love with men, yes!” Daemon shouted back, “we are not blind, Daerlyssa.”

“Well, I believe to bought out the best in him, as has he. So, either way.. this wedding will take place” Daerlyssa continued to hold her ground confidently.

“This wedding will not take place” Daemon shook his head.

“Yes, it will” Daerlyssa responds.

“No.”

“Yes!” Daerlyssa shouts back, before letting out yet, another sigh, “I am tired, father. I am tired, of you treating me like I am a child. As though, I can not make decisions for myself, that I must confide in you. I am marrying Aegon, and nothing you say will change that!”

Her outburst caused Daerlyssa to then begin breathing heavily, out of panic, as she looked at her parents with softened eyes.

“Once you are Aegon’s wife, you are no longer my daughter” Daemon stated.

“Daemon, stop” Rhaenyra glared at him.

“No” Daemon shook my head, “I have made my decision, and that is final!”

Daerlyssa nods, letting out a scoff, “fine. Be it that way. So much for a father’s love, when you can not be happy for your own daughter.”

Turning away to leave, Rhaenyra grabs a hold of her.

“He does not mean it, he just worries about you!” Rhaenyra explains.

“Worry? Disowning your own child is for worries?” Daerlyssa questions, “no. He just wishes to control me, as it gives him power as a man.”

“Don’t you dare” Daemon mutters.

“Is it not true?” Daerlyssa asks, “you control mother, as she listens to you, given that she has no choice. You can not be trusted, but because you are married to her, the rest of the family seem to put up with it!”

Daemon, having enough of Daerlyssa’s taunt, walks towards her, in angry strides, his eyes glaring down at her.

“Daemon, don’t-!”

Rhaenyra shouts out, before Daemon had got a hold of Daerlyssa’s throat.

“Daemon, let go of her” Rhaenyra tries to push him back, but to no avail, the sound of her daughters choked up breath, causing her to panic.

“You will eat up your words, after this family tries to kill you” Daemon whispered.

“Daemon, enough!” Rhaenyra managed to push him away, his hand slipping off her throat.

Pulling him back, Rhaenyra looked towards him with fury, “what has gotten into you? She is your daughter!”

Daerlyssa stood back, holding her neck as she coughed, gasping for air.

Looking up at her father, she noticed the regret in his eyes, but she found it too late for him to even apologise.

“The only person who’s tried to kill me, is you” Daerlyssa spoke her last words to Daemon, before turning around to walk out, slamming the door behind her.

Rhaenyra watches her leave, before turning to face Daemon.

“My anger took over me, I don’t-?” He stuttered, looking at the disappointment on her face.

“If anything is to happen to our daughter, you will be responsible” Rhaenyra spat out at him, before turning away from him.

-

Daerlyssa walked around frankly, through the corridors, her eyes teary as she held her chest.

Whilst she believed to have her brother on her side, she couldn’t help but feel hurt, not being able to bare the thought of losing her family, all due to a marriage that she believed would save them.

Her breath became heavier by the minute, as she felt herself threatened to fall to her knees, bursting into tears.

“Daerlyssa?” Aemond called out, as he was stood a couple of feet away, opposite her.

Looking up from the ground, to Aemond’s worried face, he had noticed that she was not her normal self, causing him to rush towards her.

“Hey hey” he called out softly, cupping her cheeks in both his palms.

Daerlyssa, trying her best to avoid looking into his eyes, knowing she’d become vulnerable, had found her breath continuing to get heavier and rapid.

“Star” Aemond whispered in fear, to the sight before him.

Hearing those words, Daerlyssa had caved in, turning her gaze towards him, her eyes no longer containing her tears as she sobbed before him.

Aemond was quick to comfort her, as he embraced her tightly, yet gently, as he left her little pecks against her head.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[twst-drabbles]

A choice!

I love the pet au Silver/caretaker cuteness, what does it look like in sanctuary au?

Or

How do the Dia Boys act around silver in the sanctuary au after all the drama?

Diasomnia 5

Summary: You witness a few precious moments between the now grown familiars and Silver.

(Originally was going to choose just Silver but ideas come in and eventually this Silver focused piece ended up becoming like this. Sooo here you go!!)

Lilia, lately, has been touching Silver's face. Hold it just to squish his cheeks like he was still a cherubic child, poking and pinching the wrinkles that formed between his brows over the years, and just patting it whenever his hands could reach, clean or not.

"You grew older," you heard him say only once, during a moment you know you weren't meant to intrude upon, "you have more wrinkles than me now."

It was almost impossible to take him seriously when Lilia's in that small bat form of his, but his words weighed all that same, even if you weren't the the recipient of them.

"I'm not that old," there was humor in Silver's tone in comparison to Lilia's rather quiet self, "I still have many years left to spend."

You're very sure that Lilia knows you've heard, otherwise why would he start squeezing your own face whenever the two of you would pass by each other.

Sebek was of a different variety, as he always is. For one, you couldn't have missed his interactions with Silver even if you tried. He could be quiet, but whenever Sebek experiences anything emotionally complicated, he'd clam up, then explode. It's a continuous pattern, even when he's training with Silver.

Such a moment happened when Sebek managed to knock Silver's practice sword out of his hands. You were setting water on the tree stump near them when Sebek clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. By this point, he'd usually be glowing, gloating, or correcting any perceived wrongs he spotted. Fast learner, that Sebek.

…but no, instead, Sebek's face turned sour, frustrated.

"…your grip weakened," Sebek managed to push past his clenched jaw, "how long as it been like this?"

Silver looked to you, as if you had any say in this. You just nodded, just in case.

"For a while, now, actually," Silver stretched out his hands, and you looked away from the ring finger that refuses to rise all the way with the rest of them. "I was… impatient, for a time. So much so that I tore something in my hand, and it hasn't been the same since. I can still train with you, though. It doesn't bring me pain. Though, I suppose I'm not as fluid as I was before."

When you heard Sebek take a deep breath in, you knew to cover your ears and simply walk away. All you heard was "Humans like you should take better care--!" before you went to the kitchen. You'll make a little snack for you, Silver and Sebek to munch on. Sebek will grumble about not letting him help you make them, but he'll inhale them all the same.

And Malleus was… well you can't quite say he's being himself. You can't say that about any of the others either. Malleus has always had an odd grasp of time, mind wandering off for hours at a time as he wanders about.

He and Silver are similar in that way, you've noticed, hours slipping right through their fingers even though they never mean to, especially when they don't want to.

"Your spells have gotten worse," Malleus said suddenly, just as you were about to drift off into a nap, "They're more frequent, and last longer now. I can't begin to imagine how much this must frighten you."

Silver's awake now, it seems. You can hear him shuffling on the grass behind you. You didn't get up. You kept your eyes closed and let Malleus's shade you from the sun.

"…I don't fear it as much as I used to. If anything, I worry about all the time I've lost. It's worrying, and frustrating." Silver gave a breathy laugh, keeping quiet probably because he thought you were still sleeping. "I wouldn't worry about me. It doesn't look like it, but I am getting better. It's only been two hours, compared to the previous six."

Mm-hmm. He's improved so much that you two have been talking about him moving back home. Of course, you'll always keep his bedroom clean anytime he wants to come over again. You like his company.

"Is that so?" You heard an extra weight settle around you. You took a peek and saw a long, black-scaled dragon tail loosely circling around both you and Silver. "Then, I should endeavor to help, both you and myself, if only not to waste the time I have left."

…it's fine to let yourself sleep just a little bit, right? Just a small nap, and afterwards you'll get up and take a walk around.

[go-to-two]

In the Dark - CPD 9x04 Triptych

Hello! I mentioned recently that I had an old one-shot from season 9, episode 4 that I was tinkering with again. I landed here, with what are essentially three different scenes that make up the bulk of the story. They take place in the district bathroom after the panic attack scene, when Jay gets home after confronting Voight, and at home in the middle of the night. In that order. This might not ever see AO3, so we'll consider this a Tumblr special for anyone still hanging around this place. Under the cut. No warnings beyond what would apply to the Roy Walton storyline.

PART 1

"Hey..." Jay's voice is soft, pleading. He locks the door and crosses the women's bathroom towards her. The shower she never got to step into is running while she stands motionless in her jeans and sports bra. His eyes track over her frail frame, worry lining his every feature. "Hailey, talk to me. Please." Jay takes a gentle approach, hoping this will be the one that finally works. 

It almost did, minutes ago. Before Voight walked in the room with a stone-faced glare, she was about to tell him everything. She is out of strength. For weeks, it came and went in waves. One minute she had the resolve to take this to the grave, and the next she was gripping his hand until both of their knuckles turned white just to keep herself together. 

Now, Hailey can't speak. The words have been pushed so far back from ever escaping her mouth that she can't find them anymore. Even if she decided to tell him everything right here, right now- her brain goes blank. She is beyond exhausted and the steam from the shower is still filling the room. She thinks her vision might just go black and for a moment, she feels relief. It would give her an out from standing in front of him at a loss for words while he begs. 

She gets her wish. Her vision does go black, just for a split second. She feels his arms around her when she stumbles forward, and he reaches into the shower stall to turn off the water. "Alright, you're alright," he assures. Jay walks her over to sit on the long benches in front of the lockers, and he takes a seat next to her. "It's okay. It's just us here. Just me. I want to make this better for you, but you have to tell me what's going on."

"Jay-"

"-Don't." He cuts her off before she can say "nothing." He knows that tone. That dismissive tone he has let slide for weeks while he gave her the space to figure this out. "Don't you dare try to tell me there's nothing going on." He turns to straddle the bench and leans closer to her. "Not after all this. I know this started the night Kim went missing. I know it involves Voight." 

He lists off the pieces he does have. It's enough to paint a bad picture, but he's missing the details that fill in the blanks to explain why his fiancée is falling apart in front of him. 

"What am I not seeing here?" He pleads.

With her last bits of resolve, Hailey puts her hands over her eyes and shakes her head. 

"What are you so afraid of?" Jay pushes backwards on the bench, away from her, and smacks his hands down on the hard metal. The gentle approach wasn't working. Frustration, helplessness, pressure. Nothing worked. The only thing he has left is anger. "Do you think I won't be able to help? I won't understand? I'll stop loving you? Do you really think I would lock myself in the bathroom with you like this if I didn't love you with everything I have? I do, Hailey, I do." 

Jay's voice breaks on the last words, and his posture crumbles. He is supposed to be making that promise to her at an altar, but he can't see them walking down an aisle with something like this between them. "How can we get married, if you can't talk to me?" He finally whispers.

The voice in Hailey's head always warned her that she'd lose Jay somehow, but she never guessed she would be the one to tell him to go. She'll do it. She'll cut him loose before she drags him down with her. "Is that an ultimatum?" She finally asks. 

"Would it really take one for you to be honest with me?" His voice is thick, heavy with the realization that she's keeping everything from him. It's not just that she's keeping something from everyone or she's covering for Voight. She's keeping it from him, and that's when he understands how bad this really is. "I'm going to find out," he says simply.

"Jay, don't." 

He stands from the bench and shakes his head. "I'm done asking you. I'm done pretending I don't notice you getting up in the middle of the night. I'm done watching you push the food around on your plate enough to make it look like you ate something." Jay has made his decision, and they both know he'll find what he's looking for if he looks hard enough. He could have done this weeks ago, and the only regret he'll have when he gets his answers is that he didn't do this sooner. "You can be mad at me, that’s fine. At least you'll be alive. I'm going to find out." 

PART 2

It didn't take long for him to find his answer. Hailey isn't surprised at that, but she is startled when she wakes from a restless sleep to find him standing in their bedroom doorway, staring. Heartbreak is written all over his face and she knows then, everything she was trying to avoid is there on her doorstep. They say no good deed goes unpunished. She still isn't sure if her deeds have been all that good, but she's being punished at every turn so it doesn't seem to make much difference in the end. 

She doesn't move for a few seconds. She knows that he knows, but she waits for him to make the first move. In her waiting, Hailey forgets to breathe. She is like a bottle with its lid screwed tight, shaken and ready to implode at the first release. 

Quietly, Jay crosses the room. He picks up the half-empty glass of whiskey she had left on the nightstand, studies it, and sets it back down. Time stands still, until he sits on the edge of the bed and wraps her up in his arms. "Take a breath," he says evenly. "You can take a breath now." 

Her first breath is a gasp buried in his shoulder, and everything speeds up again, making impact after impact against her chest as she releases everything she has been holding in for so long. He holds onto her for several minutes- five, ten. She loses track. It's dark in their bedroom and for as long as he'll let her, Hailey cries in his arms.  

She cries until she can't anymore. She has exhausted all the emotion she can, but she doesn't dare move first once she has calmed down. He feels when her breathing evens out and the tears stop, and Jay lets go to scoot away from her. He eyes the glass on the nightstand again. "Are you drunk right now?" He asks calmly. No accusation. 

"No."

"Okay. Then let's go out there," he nods his head toward the kitchen, a more neutral space. "I don't want to do this all in here." 

They end up at the kitchen counter. Hardly neutral- it's where they signed the paperwork making this place home, where he lifted her up onto the hard granite to celebrate, where they ate, talked, laughed. There is no neutral space at home. He sits on one side and she pulls a stool around to sit on the other, and she finally tells him everything. 

Every last detail. She starts with figuring out that they were given bad leads, then making Adam leave to care for Makayla, and finding Voight and Roy Walton in that warehouse. He knew the basics already, but his eyes get darker with every detail Hailey assumes Voight left out. 

She gets through it through stutters and long pauses, and Jay sits quietly. If Hailey were a betting person, she would bet on what his first response is, because it was hers too. 

"We have to tell the team," he says.

Hailey understands his motivations. His guilt. It was the first decision she had to make in the wake of Roy Walton's death- to walk away and not radio the team- and she'll spend the rest of her life playing out every scenario in her head, wondering if she made the right one. "We can't," she answers him. 

"It's the right thing to do."

"Jay," she says slowly. "I have wanted to tell them time and time again, but this case is already too far ahead of us. They didn't ask for any of this." She wipes her eyes and rakes her fingers back through her hair. "If this gets out- and we both know it could- we'd all be implicated. We could all lose our jobs, all go to jail. We would have ruined their lives and robbed Jordan, Vinessa, and Makayla of the only family they have. I couldn't live with that. I don't think you could, either. At least this way, if it comes to it, I can sit on a stand and say they had nothing to do with it." 

He sits back and scrubs his hands over his face in frustration. Voight once told him he was wired through the heart. He jumps head first into what he thinks is right without looking at the consequences the truth can really have. 

"You wanted to know," Hailey says, "so now you have to think about the realities of it all." 

"I did want to know," Jay says coldly, but she didn't tell him. She was going to let them fall apart before she did. "So what about me? I did ask for this, and I still had to find out on my own because you wouldn't talk to me. Do I not deserve a better answer as to why?"

She looks up at the ceiling, tears and the bright kitchen lights blurring her vision. That's a much more complicated answer than simply giving him plausible deniability. "You watched me struggle for months," she admits. "I crossed lines that I said I'd never cross. I was lost. But then the one time I finally found my way again... this one time I did the right thing- this is what I got. So, if I had come home that night and told you I shot Roy Walton, would you have doubted me?"

"No."

"I did. I doubted." Hailey shrugs with tears tracking down her face again. "I see it all play out again every time I close my eyes, and I wonder if maybe I pulled the trigger too early. If that were anyone else other than Walton, would I have waited a few more seconds before firing?"

"Were his hands on Voight's gun?"

They were. She knows without a doubt they were, but it's easy to let black and white blend into grey when that is all they've known for years. 

"Were his hands on the gun?" Jay repeats, expecting an actual answer. "Close your eyes if you have to, and tell me. Did Roy Walton have his hands on Voight's gun?"

"Yes."

"Then it was a good shoot, Hailey. It's a shot every single one of us would have taken. I don't doubt that, okay? I don't doubt you."

"Would a jury?" She challenges. "If you gave this case to the right prosecutor who looked into Intelligence's history and spun the right story, I'm not so sure it'd go my way."

Hailey leans forward with her arms crossed on the kitchen counter. Jay still looks at her like he's waiting for an answer that will satisfy him, but there will never be one. "You're looking for a simple answer where there isn't any, Jay. There was never one moment that I decided not to tell you. There were a lot of individual moments, and each time I'd find a different reason, something I hadn't considered before, that told me it was better if you didn't know." 

She pauses, and she tries to come up with the words that she thinks might give him the most peace. "The way you look at me matters. So yes, I was afraid you'd never be able to look at me the same way, but more than that- I figured that if I didn't tell you... maybe you'd hate me, maybe you'd leave me, but you wouldn’t lose everything you've worked for. I could sit on a stand and say you didn't have anything to do with it, either. And now..."

Hailey trails off as an all-too-familiar weight settles in her chest. She was willing to lose him to keep him away from this, but they're here all the same. She has to worry about his fate like she worries about hers, and somehow their hope lies in Hank Voight's ability to bury a body.

PART 3

Hailey wakes up at 1:30am, barely a half an hour after going to bed. Jay isn't next to her anymore, but she figures maybe he needed some more time to wind down. She wakes up again at just past 2am, and he still isn't there. She doesn't see him, but his watch and phone are still on his nightstand, so she gives him space. She doesn't wake up again until almost 4:45am, and his side of the bed is cold and empty. 

She sits up while her eyes adjust to the low light. Hailey finally spots his silhouette far across the apartment in the living room. He sits on the hardwood floor facing the glass balcony doors, his legs drawn up to his chest and his fingers hooked around his knees. Shadows cover his face so Hailey can't see if he is angry or crying or just staring off ready to walk out into the night and leave all of this behind. 

She slides from the bed. She doesn't bother trying to be quiet since he is up anyway and she wants him to hear her footsteps to know she is coming. His chin dips in her direction as she gets closer- not fully looking at her but at least acknowledging that she is there. 

Hailey sits in front of him with her back to the window. "What are you looking at?" She asks weakly. 

Jay shrugs. "Just thinking." 

She nods, biting her lip to keep from responding. She feels like she has forfeited her right to ask what he is thinking about tonight. This is uncharted territory for them. They've always been each other's person, and now they sit across from each other in the dark wondering if any two people have ever felt this far apart before. 

Jay finally meets her eyes. "The night..." he has to clear his throat after being quiet for so long "...the night everything happened is when you said we should get married." 

"Yeah."

"Did you mean it?"

There is only so much guilt she can take, and the hollow look in his eyes might be the thing that finally breaks her completely. She pushes off the floor and walks closer to him on her knees. Gently, she unclasps his fingers and moves his hands to make room between his legs. He doesn't reach for her like he usually would, but he lets his legs fall flat on the ground when she kneels between them. 

Hailey reaches out to hold his face. There are one million ways she loses Jay in all of this, but it won't be because she let him doubt how she feels or because he feels like some hail Mary on her worst night. Not when he is the best part of her every day. His stubble is coarse under her fingers, and his jaw works when he swallows thickly. 

"I meant it," she promises. "We can wait if we need to. If you want to ask again when this is done, when things are better- my answer will be the same. I meant every word I said to you." 

He sniffles sharply and nods, but the conversation ends there. He never reaches for her. "You were finally getting some sleep. You should go back to bed," he whispers. 

Hailey tilts her head and traces her thumbs over his jaw. "Why don't you come with me?" 

Just like before, he agrees wordlessly and follows behind her into the bedroom. He lays down facing her. Open, but still not reaching out. Hailey falls asleep again to the feeling of him close by but when she opens her eyes to her alarm at 6:30am, he is already gone.