#also they get me my angsty content BUT NEVER DISAPPOINT

[jjmorelikeotp]

Thank god I have shandrews cuz I need something happy after this miserable experience of a netflix show lol

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - vu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 1

wc: 4512

a/n: lmk if u want a pu ver pls <3 if there's part i forgot to make gender neutral pls lmk!!

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan had no idea what to do. he'd never been in this position before. he prided himself in being a good friend and specially boyfriend. nothing in this world mattered to him more than his loved ones, which was why he was extremely disappointed in himself at having disregarded you and hurt your feelings in such a careless way. he knew it was your birthday, and he had wanted so badly to be with you, but he had been an idiot and let it slip his mind. there was no other way to put it. it made him sad more than anything, to know that you had spent the night worried over him only to wake up to zero communication from him, having spent a good 14 hours into your birthday without any word from him. he needed to fix this, he just didnt know how.

this was so unlike him. jeonghan had always known himself to be an attentive person. he noticed any time you changed your hair almost immediately, he'd notice new additions to your recipes, he'd take note of any time you switched things up in your apartment, he'd remember any and every important date. even now. he had remembered it, except he had skipped over it due to his idiocy, which really only made it worse.

after getting mocked by joshua for ten minutes as he racked his brain to find a solution, he decided to just improvise. he'd go to your apartment and see if you'd at least let him in to try and explain his way through an apology. he would pull all the dramatics if he had to. there was not a single care for his dignity in his mind right now. nothing would prevent him from showing you his utmost remorse.

only thirty minutes later and he was now outside your apartment window, looking up from his secluded spot inside the complex's garden. he pondered about calling you, but decided that going for a more unconventional route might do the trick a bit better. spotting some pebbles nearby, he grabbed a few, beginning to chuck them at your window. okay, kind of corny, but knowing you, he knew you'd appreciate the thought. he spent an unfortunate ten minutes throwing pebble after pebble until you finally opened your window, sticking your head out as soon as you spotted him down below.

"jeonghan. what the hell are you doing?", you seemed and sounded pissed. but, hey! that was a good sign. at least you were acknowledging his presence.

"my love!', he clutched at his heart, 'let me come see you. please. i want to apologize."

"fuck you, yoon jeonghan. why dont you go treat your hangover somewhere else?", you went to close your window, only to stop in your tracks as he yelled out again.

"wait! do you want me to beg? i will. i love you. i dont care what i have to do. i'll climb to the roof and profess my love for you for all of seoul to hear," yes, he was being overly dramatic, but he was also being genuine. if you actually wanted him to scream out to the world how much he regretted his stupidity, he would. you didnt even have to ask.

but he also knew public displays were a huge no for you, dating an idol and knowing the controversies being known as the significant other of the yoon jeonghan would bring. he was putting you in a bit of a spot. you could either let him up to apologize, or wake up to some ominous article stating yoon jeonghan of seventeen might be taken.

fortunately for him, you chose the former, which now placed him in your living room as you crossed your arms and huffed at him. okay, one step at a time. it was time to put jokes aside and get serious.

"angel ... i'm so sorry," he cooed at you, stepping forward a bit.

"jeonghan, dont talk to me like im a baby. im not in the mood."

"but you are my baby," he pouted at you, "you're my angel, my everything. i'm sorry. i didnt show you how much you mean to me last night. all i want to do is love you and take care of you. you can punish me all you want. i deserve it. but please let me sleep in your arms. im already away from you most of the time. dont deprive me one more day," and he meant all he said. you were his favorite form of comfort, and the thought of you being angry or hurt by him made him scared. he never wanted to risk you being ripped away from his arms, specially not due to his own doing.

"jeonghan ..."

"no, wait. i'm sorry. i shouldve never forgotten. i dont know how it happened. all i ever want to do every day is come back home to you, but i did the opposite on the worst day possible. i'll apologize over and over until you forgive me if that's what it takes. please just let me be with you on your birthday. i dont want you alone. i dont want you sad. i want you happy and content in my arms. please? i love you."

he mustve broken you down, as you landed in his arms immediately after he finished his speech. he couldve sworn he saw you eyes puffy and swollen before he wrapped his arms around you. his suspicion was confirmed just seconds later when he heard you sniffle against him.

"aigooo, no angel. dont cry. didnt wanna make you cry. you're making me look like such a bad guy, baby, making you cry on your birthday," he cooed at you as he held you as tight as possible.

you separated yourself from him, finally looking into his eyes while he caressed your cheeks, wiping any lone tears in them, "im so sorry, angel. forgive me? let me stay, please."

"yes, hannie. i love you."

"i love you so much more," and he'd spend the rest of his life the day showing that to you.

joshua -

joshua had not been this hungover in a while. he wasnt sure how this happened. last thing he remembered was his manager rushing him into a car right after the award show, letting the group know they'd been invited to an after party, and the company had deemed it smart to be in attendance for public image purposes. all members agreed enthusiastically, excited to mingle among their peers and maybe make some new connections in the process. joshua had been the lone member to be skeptical, knowing he had promised he'd be back to the hotel at an appropriate time in order to get on the phone with you and celebrate what was remaining of your birthday with you despite the current distance between you. however, he did not want to get in the way of his members' fun, so he kept any objections to himself and joined them with matching enthusiasm.

his original plan was to roam the party for an hour or so, which wouldve allowed him to get back to call you on time, but ironically, time got away from him. the next thing he knew, he was waking up at 11am in the morning in mingyu's hotel room, head pounding and phone full of unread notifications. he wasnt sure how this happened. the last thing he remembered was being at the party, margarita in hand as he and his members drank their souls away in celebration of yet another successful award show season. it was around three margaritas in that joshua had begun to disregard his phone, and with that you as well. as soon as he saw the dejection in your messages upon waking up, he spammed you with texts and voice memos expressing his regret, but received no response from you. he had hurt you and now you were ignoring him. and with good reason.

joshua knew that there wasnt much he could do from his current location, specially while you were (justifiably) icing him out. so he committed to his next best option. he immediately booked a ticket back to korea, letting his manager know that he'd just be returning home two days in advance to the rest of the members. all they had scheduled left was an interview tomorrow, so his absence would probably not have that big of an effect. five grueling hours later and he arrived to korea, exhausted and still slightly hung over, but with a whole speech planned to beg for your forgiveness.

in the process, he had tried calling you again and again, still earning no response. this disheartened him, making him think that maybe his grand gesture would only be taken negatively. he picked up some flowers on the way, gift he had bought in japan a few days ago in hand, ready to knock on your apartment door. despite the exhaustion, he was here. a day late to celebrate your birthday, but still here nonetheless.

your face upon answering the door had been of surprise, not anger like he feared, but that only lasted for a few seconds until you started to berate him.

"joshua? what are you doing here?"

"baby, i'm so so sorry. can i come in? please?"

you moved aside without further words, gesturing for him to continue talking.

he suddenly remembered the flowers and boxed gift in hand, signaling to them before handing them to you, "oh, these are for you," he felt extremely inadequate, something that was very rare for him. he had practiced a whole speech, a whole profession of love and regret, but now his mind was blank. you just looked so. disappointed. he couldn't stand it.

'i'm sorry. i- i have no good excuse. the party got the best of me and i completely spaced out on our plans. i never meant to forget about you. please believe me.'

"joshua ... this was your idea. you had me waiting all night just to ghost me. you spent my birthday partying without even thinking of me."

he grabbed onto your hands, placing the flowers and gift on the table before doing so. he held onto you as he began to get exasperated in his speech, "there's no world in which i wasn't thinking of you. you're all thats ever on my mind. i didnt even wanna go to that stupid party, but i didnt want to inconvenience anyone. please, i- i wanted to call you. i ... yeah, i got drunk and distracted. and thats my fault. im sorry. i came back early to be with you. to make up for being a dumbass. please let me make it up to you. please? i'll serenade you like i promised. i'll get on my knees. do you want me to get on my-"

you interrupted him as he began to kneel halfway through his speech, slapping at him lightheartedly as he began to get more dramatic by the second. he knew it was hard for you to get angry at him when he started pulling all stops like he did. he came back and begged on his knees, even offered to express his love to you through song. he was making you hold in your laugh. these were all good signs, right?

"you .. you're such an idiot, hong jisoo. i hate you," but he knew you didnt mean it. he could hear and see the smile on your face, knowing he had been successful at wearing you down.

"if you ever do this again, ill date jeonghan instead."

"ouch!", he dramatically grabbed onto his chest, as if you'd just wounded his heart, causing you to laugh, "hannie? okay, can't blame you. he's pretty cute," he chuckled, "but for now ... let me spend the day with my love? hmm?", he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose against yours as you feigned annoyance at him.

"fine," you rolled your eyes, "i'm still mad at you, though."

yeah, he had a lot of making up to do, but this was a start.

jihoon -

jihoon had not stopped beating himself up over his actions ever since you hung up the phone. he had spent the entirety of the day rethinking all his choices leading up to this. he had wanted to go running to you and apologize, but you had specifically asked him to stay away, so he wanted to respect your wishes. still, he felt like complete and utter shit at the way he disregarded you so easily. he wished he could go back in time and slap some sense into himself.

he had always been scared. scared that his job would someday get in the way of your relationship. it had been so hard for him to find someone to love; someone who loved him just as much. and the moment he found you he treasured you more than anything, but now his stupid workaholic tendencies had gotten in the way. he was terrified right now that you'd start to see the error in your choice to be with him. that you'd want to find someone who wouldnt so easily put his job over everything else.

it was now 11am of the following day, and you had not called him yet. he was beginning to get worried. were you icing him out? had he hurt you that badly? he could never blame you for feeling hurt at his neglect, but he could also not help his own feelings of dejection at you ignoring him due to your anger. alas, he still gave you all reason; this had been his own doing.

he waited a couple hours before giving up on waiting, instead choosing to confide in a few of his members to inquire as to what they'd do if they ever pulled something like this with their own significant others. after being scolded for a good few minutes due to his carelessness towards you, they told him that maybe showing up to your apartment as a demonstration of his affection to you (joined by a sincere apology, of course) would make you look his way again.

so now he was here, about to knock on your door with your favorite flowers in hand. he was terrified. the two of you had never fought. there had never been a single time in which you'd hurt each other's feelings. it had all been nothing but love and tenderness in your relationship thus far. he was your best friend, and you were his. yet he had no idea how to communicate to you how much you meant to him, and how much of a stupid mistake his slip up had been.

before he could think further, he forced himself to knock on your door, hoping you wouldnt immediately throw him out. to his surprise, you opened the door and even wordlessly gestured for him to enter. you looked ... sad. you looked the way he'd feel had you ghosted him on his own birthday. yeah, he didnt care much for his birthday, but your absence would wound him nonetheless. he imagined it felt the same for you.

"i ... i'm so sorry. i dont know what to say .. i- i fucked up. so badly. i have no idea how or why i forgot. there's nothing i can do to make up for it, but please know im so fucking sorry."

"jihoon ... how? you picked my birthday of all days to lock yourself in your studio? i've never judged your busy schedule. i understand your career. i respect it. i get that you cant help being busy. your job is too demanding of your time, but for you to ignore me when you had full control of your free time? why?", he could see how disappointed you felt at his neglect; how hurt you felt at him, not only through your words, but through your closed off body language. you were hugging yourself with your arms, not holding eye contact as you stared anywhere but into his eyes. despite your confident words, your demeanor was deflated. and it was his fault.

"it was- it was a mistake. it was all my fault. i cant argue my way around it. but i love you. i didnt .. i didnt mean to neglect you. you're all i think about. every song ive ever written, even before meeting you, was about you. you're everything. i'm just an idiot. i dont know how to do this ... ive never loved like this. i have no idea what to do when i fuck up. all i can do is promise you to be better. please give me a chance to be better. i'll be more attentive. i know i'm cold, and im not too affectionate, but i love you. i'll make it up to you. please, just dont let this be the end. i'll keep you in my studio with me whenever i lock myself away. won't ever go a day without letting you know what im doing, how im doing. please. i'll do anything to show you."

he worried his ramble mightve been too much, feeling to scared to even hold eye contact with you as he went on and on about how much he loved you. unexpectedly, upon looking up, he found your reddened eyes, with a stuffy nose to match. fuck. had he hurt your feelings again?

"jihoon ... i- i love you. i'm sorry. i cant believe you could ever think i wanted this to be the end. i was hurt and mad- i am hurt, but i love you," you sniffled your way through your short speech, but jihoon heard it perfectly fine. these were the words he prayed to hear from you all of last night as he stayed up thinking about you.

"fuck. thank god," he couldnt help himself in hugging you, holding you tightly against his arms, and sighing in relief at your reciprocation, "i love you. i'll take the week off. let me take you away and show you how much you mean to me. please? will you come with me?"

"yes, jihoon. i love you."

"i love you. you have no idea."

seokmin -

seokmin felt extremely scared. you weren't answering any of his calls. he knew you were physically okay, but he also knew your feelings were hurt, and you were probably extremely angry at him. you had all reason to be angry at him. he ditched you and kept you in the dark all day. on your birthday! seokmin had never been in a situation like this before. he had always prided himself in being the best boyfriend that one could ever be, even sometimes introducing himself as your boyfriend instead of with his own name. except today he had disappointed both you and himself beyond belief.

he knew you'd asked him to stay away for the night, and he'd usually respect your one and every wish, but today he needed to go against the current and go and beg for your forgiveness.

in very non-seokmin fashion, he exited the event just as quickly as he'd arrived, not even caring to say goodbye to his friends. you were his number one priority, after all. specially today of all days. he had his driver stop by a flower shop on the way, hoping the innocent gesture would maybe have you show some mercy on his stupidity.

he showed up to your apartment immediately after, having mentally prepared a whole speech for you on the way there. he was going to tell you how much he loved you, and how this was just a completely stupid slip of his mind, that this would never happen again, but all these thoughts left his mind as soon as you opened the door, eyes swollen and glossy. every rational thought went out the window upon spotting your saddened state causing seokmin's eyes to match your own as he felt himself begin to tear up. he couldnt help himself in immediately embracing you in a tight hug, thanking god when he felt you hold him back.

you two sniffled against each other for a bit, neither of you full on crying, but still being overly emotional at the situation. seokmin mumbled endless apologies against your hair, running his hands up and down your back as if to soothe you. he was over the moon to hear an 'i love you' from you in the middle of your sorrowful mumbles against his chest, doubling the sentiment as he cried to you how much he loved you and how badly he regretted letting you slip his mind for even a second. when he pulled back, he expressed the same sentiment all over again.

"my baby ... i love you so much. please let me make it up to you. i- i brought you flowers!", he finally recalled the flowers he had dropped as soon as you closed the door behind him ten minutes ago, "i know it doesnt make up for anything, but please let it be a start. i'll do anything you want. just want you to never cry over me like this again, baby. i love you too much to make you cry," he wiped at your tears as he said this, caressing your cheeks while he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

"minnie," you pouted at him, "stay the night? please? want you at least for the bit that's left of today."

"today? oh, baby. i'm giving you my whole week. told you i was gonna make it up to you. i'll do everything you want, my love. now let me take you to bed, yeah? wanna hold my beautiful angel to sleep."

he slept soundly that night, knowing you had somehow forgiven him and even given him the privilege to hold you in his sleep, also knowing he'd do anything and everything necessary to make up for his stupid mistake.

seungkwan -

he had put literally everyone else above you. on your birthday. there was truly no other way to spin it. he had never felt more guilt in his life, and it was all completely on him. having even thought of going out with his friends on your birthday shouldve given him the first red flag in his stupid plan. why didnt he just bring you along? god, he was such an idiot. and then allowing mingyu and dongmin to entice him into a two hour long live broadcast just to secure some fanservice was just the nail in the coffin.

he knew he hurt you badly. he had promised you he'd be there, but had just left you in the dark all day. he couldnt blame you for not wanting to see him today, but now he was stuck tossing and turning in his bed as he itched to hold you in his arms. he had called the company immediately after your call, letting them know he'd be skipping the usual dance practice and recordings in favor of being with you, which is what he should've done all day today.

it wasnt long until he grew too restless to simply stay in bed while he knew you were probably in a similar position, except most likely sad and angry. he couldnt help himself when he decided to head to you, feeling bad at calling up his driver at such late hours of the night. the journey to your apartment was a short one, which left him with little time to think over what he'd say to you in order to convey his regret. he didnt care much for what he said, he just wanted to alleviate your hurt somehow.

just as he expected, you were awake, now standing in front of him as you opened the door to your apartment. your eyes were puffy, a huge indicator that you'd been crying. your eyes also wouldnt meet his, with your eyebrows lowered in clear sadness. seeing you and knowing your current state was his fault felt like a kick in the gut. he had never made you cry before, so he was extremely disappointed in himself. worst of all, seeing you cry made him start to tear up a bit himself.

"baby ..."

"what do you want, kwan? i thought you were busy all day," your words carried venom behind them, but your delivery was still of someone who had been hurt.

"no, baby. you know that's not true. i'm never too busy for you. i'm so sorry. i was such an idiot. there arent enough apologies i could give you. i- i never meant to hurt your feelings."

"you still did."

"i ... i know. i'm sorry. i love you. the last thing i ever want is for you to be hurt by me. i never shouldve gone out with my friends to begin with. you're too understanding of my busy schedule, and i dont deserve it. i shouldve made time all day for you today."

"was ... was it that important? being gone today specifically?", you seemed insecure in your question, which only made seungkwan's heart soar at making you feel insecure around him in any way.

"no! no, of course not. i wasnt thinking. i shouldve told them id go with them next time, or taken you with me! i was so stupid, i'm sorry. you're my priority. i need you to know that."

"it's- it's fine, kwannie. i understand. you dont see your friends that often, you-"

"no! stop. dont try to rationalize it. i made a mistake. you dont have to cover for me. i hurt you and i made you feel unimportant when you're the most important person to me. im so sorry. please never doubt that. i get you all to myself so little, and staying away from you was such a stupid mistake."

more tears had started flowing down your cheeks the further the conversation went on. he wasnt sure if it was because you were touched by his words, or because he was failing at making you feel better. as he neared you enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs, he hoped it was the former.

"baby .. don't cry over me. please. i'm just an idiot. you should never cry over me. i only ever want you to feel good things when thinking of me. i- im so sorry."

"kwannie ... i love you. i understand. i know you dont want me to understand, but i do. you have to make your choices when you're as busy as you are, and .. even though it did make me feel unimportant, i get it."

"it'll never happen again. i'll- i'll keep you by my side day and night. let me- please let me keep you to myself tomorrow. just wanna be with you. please?"

for the first time in the night, he saw you shoot him a small smile, uttering the words he wanted to hear most, "yes, kwannie. will you .. will you stay? please"

"you don't even have to ask."

a/n: thank u to everyone who enjoyed this lil series aaaa i hope it was realistic enough T-T sorry if the reconciliation seemed rushed, i just didnt want any of them to end up with an angsty ending hehe also sorry for seokmin's being shorter than anyone's i just cannot imagine that man ever hurting anyone's feelings.

[lilgoblinbitch]

Gossip 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

part two here

a/n: i based this fic on this post here! i might make a part 2 because i have some ideas in the back of my head of how i think this story could end up going eventually, but idk if i will write it yet. we'll see! also i made up the two random alexandrians in this story :)

summary: rick overhears you and some alexandrian women gossiping, and he decides to confront you.

warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk).

wc: 1.5k

MDNI

“Spencer does not like me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You scoffed, taking another sip of the pinot. This was your second glass, and your head was starting to buzz.

Two Alexandrian women became well acquainted with you, offering you a bottle of wine and some dinner after your first week in Alexandria. You decided “why the hell not.” You never really had great friends before the apocalypse and the only ones you had were the group you came in with, so it wouldn’t harm you to make more.

“Oh honey, did you not notice the way he was ogling you at Deanna’s party?” One of them asked — her name was Shannon. The other woman, Vivian, slightly chuckled, taking one last swig from her glass. She nodded, muttering something in agreement.

You sighed. “Even if he was checking me out, it’s not like I care anyway...”

The two women paused simultaneously, looking up at you with ‘bitch, HUH?’ written on their faces. “Y/n, Spencer is a beautiful man! He’s tall, handsome, and he’s around your age I believe,” Vivian gushed. You scowled, displeased at the comment.

You took another gulp from your glass, emptying the contents down your gullet and then setting it on the kitchen island. After licking your lips clean, you said, “Well, frankly, I don't really care if I’m being quite honest.” Your mind swirled with inebriated thoughts; you sort of had a love-hate relationship when it came to alcohol — it either made you perfectly giddy and sociable or very angsty and erratic. But that’s what it did to most people, anyway. Right now, it was making you angsty. “I have someone else on my mind.”

“Oh, my! Okay, who is it?” Shannon asked, her and Vivian both on the edge of their chairs anticipating what you were about to say — well, what they expected you to tell them, that is.

You thought for a moment; should you tell them? It seemed like they lived for that kind of gossip. But that could mean that they might spill your secret, and you weren't exactly ready for that. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m tired, gonna head to bed,” you stated, yawning as you got up from the stool you were seated on. The two women groaned in disappointment, like children who failed to convince their parents to take them to disney world.

After your friends left you strutted out of the kitchen, about to head upstairs when you heard a door open and shut. Instinctively you ran back to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend yourself from a possible intruder or walker, but before you could your body collided with something, or rather someone.

You cursed and looked up at the culprit; it was none other than Rick Grimes. “Rick, what the fuck! I could have stabbed you!” You scolded him, picking up the knife that clattered on the ground. 

“You forget we live together?” He teased, taking a step back to get a good look at you. Your eyes were glassy and eyelids heavy — a telltale sign that you were drunk. Rick had experience pulling over a few drunkards back in his day as a cop, so he knew immediately without even having to smell the alcohol oozing from your breath that you weren’t sober.

You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, swallowing the excess saliva forming in your mouth. You mentally scolded yourself for drooling over a man, but this one was just too beautiful to not gawk at. The sound of Rick clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and brought you back to reality. “No, no. I didn’t forget. I just…”

“You’re just drunk, right?” He chuckled, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of your lip while trying to think of a plausible excuse. 

“Look, I only had two glasses. Shannon and Vivian from a few houses down brought us a casserole and some pinot. Girls’ night. Sue me, Rick.” You slipped past him and headed to the kitchen, Rick hot on your tail. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, if you or Carl want any,” You said without turning around. When you got to the kitchen sink you started washing the dishes, but you frowned slightly, looking back up at Rick with worrying eyes. 

“Shit. Did I wake the kids? Is that why you’re down here?” You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands hastily on a dry towel. 

Rick shook his head. “No. Only I heard you. But you weren’t very quiet, and when I heard them leave that’s when I came down here,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Your heart picked up its pace. ‘How much did he hear?’ You wondered. You pursed your lips and your eyes floated around the room, quite obviously avoiding his intense stare. He made you nervous. That sheriff always made you nervous, and part of the reason was because you were so utterly attracted to him. 

Finally you brought your eyes back to his icy ones, which were studying your body. You blushed and bit your lip again — it was a nervous habit you could never seem to break. “You got a stain–” Rick pointed to the red stain on your shirt, just below your breasts, “Right there.”

You looked down at the stain, it was wine — dark red wine, at that. And you were wearing a white tank top. How convenient.

You looked back up at him, snorting in slight amusement. “Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, showcasing his pearly smile. God, he was pretty. “Thought you knew better than that, Y/n,” he joked, standing back up fully to make his way over to you. Okay, now your heart was really beating fast. 

When he was finally in front of you, face to face, you gulped. He smelled like the forest after a rainshower, and somehow he always did; it engulfed you like a tsunami. You berated yourself for getting so worked up over the smell of him, and just him in general. He was your leader, your friend. And he asked you to live with him and his children because he trusted you. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? ‘It’s the alcohol’, you convinced your mind, it had to be…

The silence was too loud. You had no idea what Rick was thinking right now; frankly, you never did. His poker face was always unreadable. But your tipsy brain gained a few confidence points, letting smugness wash over you.

“Whatcha thinking about, Grimes?” You shifted your weight to one leg and batted your lashes at the man in front of you. He only grinned, then glanced away momentarily only to stare back into your eyes. 

“Y’know, I overheard the conversation,” Rick started, his chest steadily moving up and down as he breathed. One of his hands gripped the counter while the other was glued to his hip. Your eyes trailed up and down his tanned veiny arms, taking in his manliness.

“Mhm. And?” You kept your composure, not wanting to let Rick taunt you; you knew you talked pretty loud when you were tipsy or drunk but it’s not like you said anything negative about him or anyone.

“You girls like to gossip, huh?”

“Well, yeah. We’re women,” you joked, cracking a smile and trying to ease the tension a bit. “What are you trying to get at?” Rick never bothered to indulge in any girl gossip you, Rosita, and Maggie used to partake in, so why was he so invested now?

Little did you know, he was always invested in literally anything you had to say.

Rick licked his lips and exhaled through his nose. “Heard you talking about liking someone. Is it anyone I know?”

He smirked when he noticed how red you turned. Your face would have matched the stain on your shirt if it was a few shades darker. “I– I don’t…” Of course now was the time to choke on your words, right when you were using every fiber of your being to keep your poise in check. But goddamnit, Rick just had to be a sly and cocky bastard.

“I don’t remember even saying anything about that, Rick.”

His smirk never faded. You wanted to slap it off his face, then kiss the hell out of him. 

He tilted his head to the side a bit, furrowing his brows as if to challenge your statement. “Really?”

You nodded and crossed your arms right over the stain. ‘Deny, deny, deny,’ You repeated in your head.

But he didn’t buy your bullshit. He brought his hand to your cheek, fingers barely grazing your skin as if he was afraid he’d scare you away. Your breath hitched in your throat and subsequently dropped your arms to your sides, separating your lips to say something. However, nothing came out.

“Well, I think I know your secret, Y/n. Answer seems pretty clear to me.” His voice almost came out as a growl from how low and raspy it was. Goosebumps awakened all across the surface of your body. You were tongue tied. 

“I’m the one on your mind, aren’t I?”

[assriels]

here i go again

pairing: cassian x reader x azriel

summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst

a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise

(banners by @/cafekitsune!)

part one

When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.

Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.

Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.

Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.

Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.

The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.

And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.

He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.

Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.

Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.

And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.

But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.

It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.

But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.

As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.

It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.

Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.

Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.

So, you decided to test the theory yourself.

It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.

(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)

You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.

Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.

You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.

Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?

The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.

If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.

You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.

Azriel.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.

You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.

You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.

In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.

You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.

You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.

You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?

Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.

So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.

One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.

The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.

And that it wasn’t him.

You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.

However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.

The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.

“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.

Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.

He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.

“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.

You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.

Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.

He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.

You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.

But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.

“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”

He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”

After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”

You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.

“Az…”

“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”

His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.

“I love you.”

Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.

It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.

A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.

Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.

Cass…?

Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.

Hey, you.

He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.

Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?

Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.

Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.

You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.

He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.

Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.

Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.

You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.

Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”

You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.

“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”

An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.

“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”

Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.

You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and…I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”

Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.

Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.

Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.

“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.

“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.

What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.

Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.

So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—

“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”

He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?

The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?

Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.

“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”

Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.

You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”

You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.

Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.

In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.

As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.

“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."

[mythicmanuscripts]

oh my goodness! okay, first and foremost -- thank you for all the stuff you write, it is SO hard to get good sub!HOTD boys content, you are literally an oasis in the desert. i've binge read and then reread all you stuff and it is FANTASTIC!!

what about sweet, sensitive sub!jace already in subspace or even in subdrop? maybe you find him that way when you walk in, and you give him all the cuddles and comfort and touch him how he needs with all the love?

I love this idea!! I’m so so glad to hear that you like my stuff, I started this blog specifically because I was struggling to find sub!hotd characters content so I am very happy to hear you’re liking my stuff.

This idea is brilliant and I definitely would love to discuss Jace in subspace and subdrop more so if anyone has any ideas let me know!! For now I’m gonna write you walking in on Jace in subspace and teetering on the edge of subdrop. So angsty NSFW sub!jace below the cut! But I don’t worry, there’s a happy ending!!

So firstly, as we’ve said before, Jace wouldn’t like jerking off at all. Sure it felt good and he went through being a horny teenager, but he didn’t like it because of how sensitive and overwhelmed he got afterwards. Jerking off always resulted in him crying himself to sleep and trying desperately to make sure nothing touches cock.

Of course this all changes when he meets you and he experiences how good things can feel and how safe he can be when there’s someone there to help him. He can hide in your chest every time he cums and you’ll hold his hand afterwards and you’ll never ever be disappointed in him for not being able to continue.

All of this is to say that after he married you he masturbated even less than before. Now that he knows how it is with you, he never wants to experience it alone again.

So even if you were away for weeks, I don’t think Jace would be able to bring himself to do more than grind against your pillow until you return.

However, I think this scenario could happen if you get called away? Like maybe you and Jace are spending the morning in bed, having a very rare relaxed moment together. You’ve been kissing for a while, hands wondering all over each other’s body. Jace is so plaint in your arms, letting you do whatever you want and trying his best to actually kiss you back instead of just whining into your mouth.

You start to palm him through his briefs then, listening to the way he whimpers your name. You’re gentle with it, because you don’t want to overwhelm him. You stick to just softly palming his bulge and praising him for being so so good for you.

He’s starting to get really worked up when a messenger knocks on the door. You know it must be serious because Jace told everyone not to either you two that morning unless absolutely necessary. You go talk to the person at the door, and they tell you something has happened that needs you or Jace, or preferably both.

Jace is in absolutely no state to be in public whatsoever, so sending him or coming with him are both out of the question. But you can’t avoid this, someone needs to handle this.

So as much as it pains you to do, you go back to Jace and explain what happened, telling him that you’re going to go sort it out and that he doesn’t need to move or do anything at all. Jace, bless him, is as understanding as he can be. He knows this is a war and any of you could be called upon at any time, but damnit he was so enjoying the slow morning make out session.

You give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him that you’ll be be back as soon as you can. You also tell him that he can cum on his own or just jerk off on his own because you don’t want Jace to become too desperate to stop himself and then he feels like he’s done something very bad even when he really hasn’t.

So with all that done, you race off to handle the chaos, and when you rerun the sight that greets you is heartbreaking.

You realise pretty quickly that Jace jacked off and came, not only because of how you found him but also because he didn’t have his underclothes on anymore.

He’s curled up on the bed, hugging your pillow with tears down his cheeks. Every now and then his hips will twitch and his poor cock will be subjected to even more stimulation, causing him to whine and shake even more.

When you call his name, his head shoots up and instantly he’s sitting up and holding his arms out to show he wants you to join him. You can see by the look in his eyes that he must have gone into subspace at some point.

You were sure he wasn’t in subspace when you left, but you realise he must have been on the brink of subspace when you had to leave and that jerking off is probably what made him go into subspace.

Jace is always needy in subspace, and just feels everything so much. He’s so sweet and giggly and playing when he feels safe in your arms, but he’s prone to spiralling if you aren’t there.

You’re quick to sit on the bed and motion Jace to sit with you. He all but dives into you lap, his legs dangling over your lap with his torso leaning sideways against you.

You just stroke him and kiss his head not promise him that you’re right here. When he calms downs, he looks up at you and whispers that he touched himself while you were gone. By this point there’s no point in trying to remind him that you gave him permission to do it, right now he won’t listen to reason and just needs comfort.

He’s so close to subdrop and he’s so overwhelmed and he feels so so bad that he couldn’t even wait for you today to finish your duties and instead had to touch himself when you left because he was too worked up not to.

You manage to just about keep him in subspace and not in subdrop by ensuring he knows you’re not angry with him and he’s still so so so good for you.

In the end he ends up sliding down the bed to eat you out, and just floats there for a while.

[zoeykallus]

Dearest Queen, a simple request from me

A Tech and his s/o fem one. So s/o is somewhat upset with Tech cause he’s too busy to notice that she has been VERY neglected by him and very single. Time.

So as somewhat payback to him, s/o has been very focused on her stuff (or whatever she’s doing currently) and has been very neglected Tech’s needs (Aka being horny) and the icing on the cake is when Tech caught s/o playing herself. Without him.

Aloha!

Tech... 👀

Unrelated AC: *clears throat,* I really want Tech! *Jumps out of window*

*Not proofread*

Tech x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Neglected

Warnings: SMUT/Strongly Suggestive/Angsty/Fluff/Sexual Content/Consensual Sex/PIV/Cunnilingus/Touch Starving/18+

_________________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Tech has been busy for several weeks now. There are some technical problems with the Marauder that require his full attention. No matter how much you ask him, he keeps pushing you off until another time, completely absorbed in his work. The problem with Tech is that he can be hyper-focused, so that he is oblivious to the circumstances, atmosphere and mood around him. He then finds himself in a tunnel where it's just him and his task. Slowly, you get tired of it. When Tech finally finishes his work, and he awakens from his tunnel vision, he feels it very clearly, it hits him like a sledgehammer. He is touch-starved, and very much so. The moment he finally finishes his work, the longing for your closeness rolls over him like a tidal wave. Hastily he goes to your cabin. The Marauder has now been upgraded and expanded, and there are several private cabins, in addition to the old bunks. You're sitting on the bed in the bunk you've shared for almost a year, reading something, when he comes in, a smile on his lips.

He sits down by you and wants to pull you into his arms, but you push him away, not even looking up from your reading material. "Not now, I'm reading," you grumble. Tech blinks. This is new. Until now, you've never rejected an advance from him, no matter when or of what nature it was. "Can't I just snuggle up to you while you read?" he asks cautiously. With a sigh, you get up sit down in a chair at your desk where he can't sit next to you and say, "No." Again Tech blinks, you still haven't looked at him. "You're mad at me," he states quietly. "You don't say" Tech sighs softly and says, "I've been a little busy the last-" Your hand flicks up, a silent gesture that interrupts him. He looks at you expectantly. Finally, you turn in your chair to look at him. But the expression on your face makes his guts tighten.

You are really angry, very much so, also disappointed and neglected. Very controlled, keeping your anger in check as best you can, you calmly say, "Eight weeks, Tech, it's been eight long weeks this time." Tech's eyes grow huge behind the lenses of his goggles. That was really long and he hadn't even really realized it. You continue, "We've talked about this several times, about your hyperfocus, about me not being able to take it. You promised me several times that you would work on not neglecting me for so long at a time." Tech nervously tugs at the sleeves of his Blacks peeking out from between the armor plates. "I'm sorry" he says meekly, "I didn't realize how much time had passed". You shrug and say, "I can't do this anymore. This doesn't feel like a relationship, Tech. I'm not a toy you can put in the closet and pull out and put away as the mood takes you" "Of course not!" says Tech, startled, "You know I don't see you that way." "Really? Do I? Right now, not so much," you say somewhat cynically.

Tech looks at you with his saddest puppy dog eyes and asks, "You're not planning on ending our relationship, are you?" With a sigh, you shake your head and say, "No. But I'll give you a taste of your own medicine. Let's see if you're more inclined to learn then." Tech frowns. "My... own medicine?" You cross your arms in front of your chest and nod. "So how does this work?" he asks cautiously. "No sex. No kissing. No cuddling. And for as long as I see fit." Tech swallows and tugs at his collar like it's suddenly way too tight. He clears his throat carefully and says, "I see, so no cuddling today." "Not tomorrow either," you say sternly, to which he flinches a tiny bit. You add, "I guess we'll start with you sleeping in your old bunk tonight." The look he gives you almost breaks your heart, it's hard for you to keep up appearances and remain steadfast. But you do it. With his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped, both hands clutching his datapad as if he needs to hold onto it, Tech finally leaves your cabin.

After the first week he almost begs you on his knees to be allowed to sleep with you in the cabin again, at least to be allowed to be near you, in some way. Your heart is in your throat as you refuse, saying, "Tech, that was only a week, you've been doing this to me for eight weeks". Tech looks downright choked up as he says, "That was only a week.... Seven more weeks. I'm not going to survive this." You roll your eyes and close the door in his face. Behind the closed door, the mask falls away. You try to take a deep breath. You feel downright sick. You know how much you're tormenting him right now, but it's time he really understood what you go through every time he just focuses on work and you fade into the background. You don't want to go through this anymore.

Another night alone in your bed is dawning. In your sleep you are haunted by an erotic dream. You wake up with swollen clit, wet panties and an urgent desire. Your hand wanders under the fabric of your panties, deftly searching for the little swollen pearl, the bundle of nerves that demands your attention. A soft, moaned sigh leaves your lips as you stroke yourself, thinking of nothing but Tech's gently curving, thick cock. Suddenly, you hear a soft rustling sound and tear open your eyes. "Who's there?!" you ask into the darkness, your voice far too timid and frightened to be threatening. "It's just me," you hear Tech say softly, and you see his slender figure step out of the shadows. "I locked up! How did you get in here?" You turn on your bedside lamp and see him standing in the middle of the room. He's wearing only his goggles and his pajama pants, which are suspiciously bulging at the crotch. You suspect he was watching you when you touched yourself. The rustling must have been his hand reaching into his own pants. He stands there, ears and cheeks flushed. You caught him, and he's ashamed. For having crossed boundaries you drew and for not being in control.

"I couldn't resist. You know that a simple lock can't stop me." Your gaze still hangs on the bulge in his crotch, which Tech finally notices. With a smile, he says, "I see the hunger isn't leaving you untouched" "Well, it's been nine weeks for me Tech". "For me, too, in theory," he interjected. You shake your head, "You weren't even aware of the first eight weeks of deprivation, but I was." Tech's eyes light up, as they always do when he has an idea he himself is excited about. "Then let me do something good for you. You know how good I am with my tongue and fingers" The words, just the thought of it makes your clit pulsate and your pussy get even wetter. You are excited by the idea, but you don't quite want to admit it. In fact, you still want him to understand exactly what you're going through every time he pulls away from you. A small smile appears on his lips, he's already figured you out. Tech comes closer to the bed, carefully grabs your thighs, turns you around to face him and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed.

You don't resist, but you say softly, "I haven't agreed yet." His fingertips that have just gently grabbed your panties pause at this point. He looks at you expectantly. Tech slowly gets down on his knees in front of the bed in front of you, his fingers still just below the waistband of your panties. He tilts his head toward one of your thighs and kisses it gently. "Please, love, let me make up for what I've missed in the last few weeks". You blink, barely able to get a clear thought, you just want him to touch you, yet you say, "That wasn't just about sex, Tech". He nods, kisses your thigh again and says, "I know, I'll make it up to you, I promise" You look at him smiling and ask, "And you'll start by making me feel good?" Tech smiles back and nods in agreement, "I'd love to, if you'll let me" "Go ahead"

His fingers grip the fabric of your panties a little tighter and finally pull it down. The feeling of the fabric brushing over your skin, leaving your body, is almost like a release. You exhale deeply, and you feel tension escape your body, something else takes its place, heat. But the panties are not carelessly tossed aside, not by Tech. He places them very neatly on a chair near the bed, within his reach, before turning back to you. You watch this little gesture, again fascinated by how carefully he handles everything that has to do with you, even your wet panties. You know he loves you, these moments in which he more or less neglects you, they never happen out of malice. But you still wish he would learn to handle it better. His lips moving along your thigh, tender and slow, pull you out of your thoughts. He murmurs close to your skin, "Forgive me my darling". You have actually already forgiven him, but you just smile at him and say, "You are well on your way to forgiveness." He knows you love him, he knows it's part of your little game, he doesn't feel humiliated, quite the opposite, he feels invited.

His mouth comes closer to your expectant center. Tech is tender, sensual. A little flick with his tongue here, a little prod at your sensitive entrance. He's testing you, teasing you. "Tech, please," you whisper. He kisses your velvety folds and murmurs, "I know, I got you, honey." His deft tongue finds your pearl, circles it, applies pressure. The next moment his tongue dances so skillfully over your clit that your whole abdomen seems to vibrate, tense. At the same moment as your pussy contracts expectantly, first one, then a second finger slides carefully between your slick walls, while your clit continues to be massaged by his tongue. Your moan almost catches in your throat, your body reacts immediately, an intense pulse building in seconds. Your fingers partially claw into sheets and bedspread, clawing what they can get. Tech senses your reaction, increasing the pressure while his hard cock pulses impatiently. His hand grips one of your thighs, pushing it further to the side, his mouth getting wilder. You bite your tongue as you feel an excited cry brewing. He hears you moan, knows that he is on the right track.

His tongue becomes even faster, even more targeted. Techs fingers move gently pumping in your pussy. The intensity is almost unbearable. From one moment to the next, you teeter over the edge. Vibrating, pulsing, your orgasm rolls over you. Your thighs tremble, a deep moan comes from your throat. Release. He gently lets go of you. Kisses your thighs again. You breathe heavily, your heart races. Then a smile spreads on your lips. You know what's coming and spread your thighs even wider to welcome him. Tech looks at you, sees the smile on your lips, and a storm of emotion goes through his body. Affection, attraction, arousal, anticipation. He pulls his pajama bottoms down a bit, freeing his hard length. "Are you ready for me, my love?" Your smile widens. "Very," you say breathy. He brings his tip to your wet entrance, applying pressure. You can feel him parting your folds, slowly advancing inside you, stretching you. It's as overwhelming as ever. Very slowly he penetrates deeper and deeper, until he is completely immersed with his cock in your pussy.

Tech looks down to see him inside of you. A shaky breath leaves his lips before he grips your hips and slowly begins to move inside you. He pulls back and thrusts into you again, very gently at first, almost languidly, enjoying the sight. It feels good to merge with him, you've missed him, all of him. You are so happy and relieved to have him back, so overwhelmed that you almost have to pull yourself together a little. "I love you," he says rapturously, half whispering, hoarse with arousal, overwhelmed with relief and affection. "Show me," you whisper to him. You feel the tension in his body as he moves faster, his thrusts more determined, his cock sliding faster through your slick walls. His hands slide to the back of your knees to hold your legs apart. Tech watches in fascination as your fingertips seek out your once again pulsating clit and begin to play with it. He smiles because he knows you are enjoying yourself. You are so wet that his cock makes lewd noises with every movement in your pussy. He licks his lips, you can see that he is a little tense. You realize that he is also starved and yet he tries to hold out for you as long as he can.

With a smile, you tell him, "Love, let go." He blinks. "Are you sure?" You nod, "Quite sure. Cum inside me." His eyes grow wide for a moment, then he throws his head back, his thrusts quickening for a moment, a little harder. You're not there yet, and yet you're enjoying it, enjoying what he's feeling right now. You feel his fingers grip tighter, the tense trembling in his body. Tech moans, half-suppressed. You feel him pulsing inside you, cumming inside you. Your smile becomes a grin, satisfied, happy. He breathes heavily, slowly releasing your legs from his grip, stroking your naked body with shaky fingers. "Give me a few minutes, I want to make you happy a few more times tonight," he says determinedly.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

[kairiscorner]

KAMUSTA POO I LOVE UR MARRIED SPIDERNOIR X READER FICS SMM??? 🫶🫶 I hope you dont mind if i request for something angsty, hurt/comfort 👀 like the reader finds out she’s infertile- had a miscarriage and is upset because she knew how much her and spidernoir husband rlly wanted to have children so he goes out his way to comfort her and stuff huhu 😭😭 and she’s also worried that this issue might cause a strain in their relationship but noir’s like “NOOO, i love u no matter what’

talking abt this prompt reminds me from the movie ‘UP’ by disney hehe (P.S i was also the one who req for that criminal prt 2 of x spidernoir!! I LOVED IT SMMM THANK UUU FOR FEEDING MY DELULUNESS, HAVE A GOOD DAYYY)

HIII POOOOO omg thank you too, so glad you loved it <:DD AND RGHHHH THANK YOU FOR PUTTING ME IN THE MOOD TO WRITE PAIN <33 I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSS

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

even if we can't have that, i'll always have you — spider noir x reader (angst)

summary: you felt so inadequate, like such a disappointment when the doctor informed you that you could not bear fruit, you would never be a mother. though what made you feel even worse was the fact that your husband, peter, yearned for a family--and you couldn't even give him that. but does that mean he'll stop loving you? word count: 527

you mindlessly cut away at the vegetables, looking at them but not paying attention. your mind was empty except for the doctor's words that rang in your ears endlessly, echoing into the abyss that once was filled with dreams and love for little ones that will never be anymore: "ma'am, you cannot bear children. you are... infertile." the only sensation that brought you back to reality was the stinging pain of a cut you inflicted upon yourself by accident, with small drops of blood pooling on the cutting board and staining the vegetables.

you breathed in through your teeth as you washed off the blood, though you kind of wish the pain remained, so you wouldn't be reminded of how inadequate of a wife you felt when you heard the doctor's news for you. peter came home and was greeted to the sight of you bandaging your fingers. "oh, welcome home..." you muttered as peter rushed over to you and whispered a "what happened, love?" to you.

you couldn't bring yourself to face him, how could you? you were betraying him and going back on your promise with him to have a beautiful family together, which can never happen anymore because you can't provide him with that luxury. "peter... i'm sorry." you uttered as peter put your hands in his and gazed up at your eyes, which were filling with tears. "i'm not enough... it's... it's my fault we can't be happy..." you murmured as the tears fell and peter shushed you, wrapping his arms around you, kissing and wiping your tears away.

"beloved... what do you mean? that's just not true..." he said as he brushed your hair out of your face. you wiped away at your tears and sobbed out the news to peter. "i can't get pregnant... we can't have... children... i'm sorry, peter..." you choked out through your sobs as peter's face fell as he took in the news. he breathed in deeply, unsure of what to say to assure you, because this hurt him badly, too. though... peter wasn't going to leave you all because he couldn't have a family with you.

he held you closer and kissed your cheek. "my love, it's not your fault. i know we've both dreamed of having our own little ones, but even if we can't have that dream come true... i'd want nothing more than to at least have you in my life. you are the sweetest dream i've ever dreamt of, my perfect woman, and you... you made all my dreams come true already by letting me be yours." he said as he kissed the crown of your head and caressed your arms. you cried even more at his confession, asking him in broken cries if he means it, to which he nodded and kissed your lips that were being stained with your tears. "i promise." he said as he leaned his forehead against yours.

even if you couldn't fulfil his dream of fatherhood, you've already fulfilled all his other dreams, dreams he believed were impossible to attain before you married him and settled in with him, making all his dreams come true already.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @k4tsu3 @thee-fantastic-mrfox @fiannee @arachnoia @ophanimgold

[gayashawol]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Ships: Kim Kibum x Male Pastor!Y/N

Genre: Smut, Angsty (It’s kinda hurt but also comfort???)

Word Count: 4000+ words

Content Warning(s): Past Child Molestation (There’s a flashback part, but it’s not very detailed), Dealing with Trauma, Sex, Dark Religious Themes, Religious Trauma

Author’s Notes: Yes, I know I said I don’t allow any sort of rape in any of my stories, but a friend suggested me to do this sort of thing and made me realise that I’ve gone through something similar where I wanted to do something again. So pretty much, this is what the story is going. It is a bit of a weird one, but I hope I was able to convey Key’s emotions well. Also, Key is in his 20s and the Pastor is about in his 40s.

I still think about what happened, the way he touched me, the way he went about it, and even the way my parents reacted when I finally told them.

While I did feel some sort of guilt, I also had this strange feeling inside of me that would admit that I liked it. Maybe I was in denial, or maybe I was being serious. I didn’t know how to feel, or how I could go about my life without pinpointing exactly the feeling I was getting.

Nonetheless, I knew I wanted to do it again.

—

It was something I thought about for years on end, and I hadn’t been able to tell anyone. I was just ashamed, or maybe people would assume that I was lying for clout.

I knew that it was something that truly happened to me, I even had the very clothes that I wore on that day. I remembered what I ate for breakfast, what my mother was planning on making me for dinner, and even down to a couple of minutes before the incident.

I never went to therapy for my pain, nor I ever went back to church. My parents were disappointed, grounding me every time I missed one day for a week until I went. It was at that very moment that my faith was crippled.

I tend to cry when I think of my emotions, but this time was different. A part of me wanted to move on, even though I didn’t know how to. That was when I was on the phone with my parents, explaining about the pain that I’d been going through. They suggested me to go back, but I wasn’t sure.

My parents hated the fact that I was an atheist. The amount of screaming matches I had to go through, just because they wanted to force the bible on me. Every single time I tell them to stop, they get louder and louder. I had no power over them, and I would feel trapped within myself.

However, this was the first time I agreed with them. I was in my 20s, surely he would change. I shook my head, before cutting off to process exactly what I was about to do.

I planned my trip to my hometown, packing up clothes I would know they would approve. I knew I had to look as manly as possible, especially when I go to church. I took in a crisped grey suit and pants, with a bow on them.

A couple of days later, I finally made that trip and was at the front door of my parents’ house. They seemed so happy to see me upon opening and letting me in, but the facade broke away, and their strictness was back.

“Kibum, if you’re staying here, you will need to go to church with us every Sunday.” I sighed, face-palming while contemplating why I thought it would be a good idea to come back home. I knew I’d only be here for a week, but just the memories coming back made it ten times worse.

I saw my childhood room, thinking about all the times I cried alone in my bed that day. I just wish I could speak to my past self and comfort him. Everything here was filled with horrible thoughts, and not even the TV was safe. The amount of Christian content that I had to watch was concerning. I used to be made fun of at school for not watching shows that all the kids were watching simply because it wasn’t allowed.

I saw a picture of my younger self, in a suit ready to go to church. Right next to it, there was another picture of me, but I was being baptised. It was the happiest day of my life. I thought that I was going to love Jesus forever and be a Christian for the rest of my life. Sadly, that wouldn’t be the case.

I woke up to my parents knocking on my door to get ready to go to church. I was very nervous, yet I put on a brave face as I took a shower to clear my mind. Maybe, this was going to be fine, right?

When I got ready to go into the car, I saw my father waiting outside while my mother walked slowly down the stairs. We didn’t live that far from our local church, but my parents always insisted on walking together like a family. I never understood that, even now as an adult.

I was finally at the place where I feared, the hall. Everyone was walking in, chatting to one and another while I sat alone. Seeing how “lonely” I looked according to my mother, as she was chatting to one of my childhood friends, she introduced me to him, causing me to awkwardly wave my hand as the both of them stared in my direction.

I’ve been an adult for some time now, and even listening to the pastor speaking felt like a bore. But then, he stared at me — and we locked eyes for a whole second before turning back to the crowd, and the service suddenly got somewhat interesting. He seemed happier now that I was here, which felt sweet on its own but weird. How did he know who I was even though I was 10 when I last saw him?

My mind was puzzling in my head, and before I could even process what just happened, the church was over. I didn’t even realise the time until my mother tapped me on the shoulder for food.

I sat down at a table alone, not wanting to sit next to my parents. I had a plate full of rice, bulgogi and kimchi, and ate slowly but steadily. As I was just forgetting about what just happened, I saw Pastor Y/N walking towards me. My eyes widened, and I was still in shock by the time he reached me.

“Is this seat free?” He asked. I shook my head and he sat by me. He still had the same scent 10 years later. He hasn’t even changed a thing at all! As a matter of fact, he looked even better!

“Kibum… you’ve grown so much! I’m so glad you decided to come by today!” He seemed polite in nature, and didn’t seem to have any malicious intentions. I mean, it was normal for him to go up to people and speak to them.

But then, the incident started playing in my head. I stood as still as a rock, looking down so he couldn’t see me. I wanted to ask but was nervous. What if he wasn’t the same guy anymore? Surely he could do me one last time…

“Hey, Kibum… can I invite you to dinner tomorrow?” I quickly agreed, nothing trying to take time to think about what I was getting myself into.

Tomorrow felt like a breeze, I didn’t even remember what I did when I was going home. I did remember my mother pulling me into a corner away from my father just to ask me if Pastor Y/N did anything to me. I kept quiet, shaking my head as I looked back at Mother to see if my answer was verified.

“I saw him chatting to you today. He told me he misses you after all these years, and wants to see you in Church more. He could help you build your relationship with God again.” I tried not to roll my eyes for the 8th time, but I wanted to keep the lies going… unless I wasn’t.

I was invited to come for dinner at Pastor Y/N’s. I knew it was something I didn’t want to share with my parents, as I knew that it would come with something more than just two consenting adults meeting in a house.

That very night, I made sure to buy some condoms and lube to bring with me in case anything escalated. I planned out an outfit that seemed masculine enough so he wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at me — even though I was sure that he knew for a fact that I was not a heterosexual man.

I fell asleep, seeing the man that I always dreamed of being close to — but was unsure how to feel about it. As an adult, I felt like a kid again. He held my hand like he was crossing the road, reminding me to look both ways before walking. I saw the road form around me, seeing each sparkle and star create the world around us, seeing familiar people appearing one by one.

It was then that I was brought into the Church, people were singing while praying at the same time. There were too many people, so Pastor Y/N took me backstage where the changing rooms were. At that point, my heart started pounding. This was the moment that it happened, his hand landed on my thighs so he could stroke them. His hands were rough and scratchy, they were also huge enough to cover the whole diameter of my legs from my thighs to my ankles.

My dress pants were pulled down, revealing bright blue underwear with thunderbolts on them. I’d thought he would stop right there, but he continued on and removed the very thing that was hiding my genital area. Everything was a blur after that, having my head facing the wall and feeling the action happening from my rear end.

I woke up almost feeling like I wanted to cry, so I lay there at 5 am while waiting for me to fall back to sleep. I then felt something hard underneath my pants, which meant that I had a wet dream as well.

This was how it was for over a decade. I get flashback dreams, I wake up crying, I get hard, I masturbate, I fall back to sleep. It never failed me. It remained the same ever since. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how I process things, but everyone that I told was quick to say how unnatural it was for me to act the way I did.

I woke up with my pants still down, unable to recall what happened last night. I got into the shower, thinking about everything I wanted to say to that man. My stomach was growling like I was hungry, but deep down inside I was a nervous wreck.

I had to awkwardly eat breakfast with my parents since my mother filled out the whole table with all sorts of fruits, a tray for the tea set and some other drinks, and bread with some sandwich toppings on another tray. All the trays that were displayed made it seem like there was way more stuff than expected. I rarely ate — only trying to take as little as possible so I could excuse myself into my room to get ready.

I sat in my room, waiting for his name to pop up on my phone. He gave me the green light, prompting me to get dressed and walk out of the house. It was noon and my parents were a bit concerned as to why I was leaving at this time. I thought of a quick lie of me walking around my childhood city as an excuse and they accepted it — surprisingly.

I ran off, walking towards a train station that would lead me to his place. He called me a couple of times to ask me if I was coming, but I was underground and had to wait until I arrived to reply to him. He picked me up at the train station, pulling me into a warm embrace which felt imitated.

“Kibum… how have you been doing? Was the journey alright?” He said in his soft voice, possibly softer than he was at the church the day before. He held my hand as we walked out of the station, walking towards what seemed to be his neighbourhood. He lived in a nice little penthouse that seemed small, but it had all the view he could have.

We entered from the entrance, before going onto the lift to the very top. He unlocked his door, opening it to showcase a very warm atmosphere that I could get at any pub or restaurant. Everywhere seemed neat but messy at the same time, while also looking expensive looking. It was a sight I didn’t want to miss, especially with the fact that every single glance was something worth noting, like the gramophone sitting at the corner of the room.

“Make yourself at home, Kibum.” He patted the couch, indicating him asking me to sit down. I eventually did, while he was searching around the room for something catching up to our conversation. “So Kibum… tell me what you have been doing ever since you left Church.”

“Well…” I started. “I moved out and so I couldn’t afford to come all the way here.” I went with the conversation, knowing that he was going to say something very cliche.

“Kibum…” He stopped what he was doing to sit next to me, with his hands on mine while they were on my lap. “Listen to me… Jesus will always love you, regardless of that.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to continue with that talk, yet it was my fault for agreeing to go to a literal pastor’s house. Sure I didn’t want to go through a whole lecture on how God is good and great for the millionth time, but a part of me just wants to see what would happen… between us.

“I always felt like I had to go every Sunday… but the moment I couldn’t… I feel fake.” I lied, even giving him the puppy eyes that I mastered since I was a kid.

“Kibum, don’t say that…” I felt his hand on my back, the adrenaline of the conversation was causing me to go on and keep the lie going. “I always knew your love for Jesus is real, even since you were a boy.”

He was starting to get close to me, having his other hand stroking my crotch area. I was horrified, but I was also excited that I was going to get with Pastor Y/N again after all these years of craving for his touch.

“Kibum…” He was checking me off through my clothes, and I could see a small spark in his eyes. He saw something that he was looking for, and that was me. My young body that he wanted to use again. “…Please… may I pray for you?”

Suddenly, my mind went blank, unsure how to feel or to respond. Was he going to use me again, or was this bait created by my imagination which was so desperate that I generated my suffering by my thoughts?

After all the thoughts that ran through my mind, I agreed, holding both of my hands while we faced each other. His eyes closed, and so did mine. This used to be my everything as a child, being able to picture God clearly with his white-washed face and his gown. Nowadays, I see nothing. It was impossible to convince myself to see otherwise.

“Father in heaven, I thank you for being brother Kibum back into the Church.“ He started praying, in which he started becoming more preachy as every sentence occurred.

I felt his every nudge, every poke, and all the attempts he made to touch me in any way or form. He even managed to place his hand on my thighs while it was spread apart, causing me to be unable to close it.

He was getting deep into his prayer, and I was feeling slightly uncomfortable, but excited at the same time. This was what I was waiting for, or at least that was what I thought I needed. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Did I accomplish anything? Did I make things worse? Oh god… did I make anything worse?

But then… he slipped his hand under my pants, and all those thoughts left my mind.

It was just pure… silence. I was horny, I needed this, and I wanted this. It was exactly what I was looking for at this very moment… someone using me for their benefit. That was my guilty pleasure.

“Wow… your penis barely has changed!” Pastor Y/N went close to me, and I gulped as loudly as I felt like a cartoon character. I could feel that lust in his eyes, doing something that he shouldn’t have.

Then… his lips touched mine. There was no noise, just the sound of smooches and hums in between. He laid me down on the couch, kissing me more like I was a drug. He wasn’t afraid to use his tongue, which made him look attractive to me.

He pulled out, looking directly at me. “I know you’re a homosexual, Kibum.” That threw me off guard, but I owned my identity, so I claimed it as it was. He told me that we could pray again later, but he wanted to feel my gorgeous boy body.

Boy body…? What does he mean by that? Why would he exclaim that my body was one of a boy? Could it be that he still sees me as the kid he used? Either way, my vision of myself was still that young me, but with more clarity and less confusion. With my big age, I would’ve learned how to say stop. Nonetheless, it has been locked away in a treasure chest, and thrown out the window.

I didn’t feel a single guilt throughout all of it. He kept stripping off my clothes, showing my bare body to him, feeling our skin against each other’s. I knew it was Pastor Y/N, but a part of me was starting to gain some sort of attraction to him.

It was like… he wasn’t a Pastor to me… he was a childhood crush.

“Mmm yes… You’ve always been such a good boy…” He caressed my cheeks, while I felt his finger rubbing the lip of my anus.

“I’ll go and get the lube… I’ll be right back.” He kisses me on the forehead, before walking away to his room. I looked down to see my clothes on the floor, including my boxers that I had worn when it happened to me. I kept it after all this time since no matter how many times I tried to wash them, it still smelt like him…

Wait… why did I decide that this was a good idea? I mean, I knew I needed to get over it eventually, but was I doing too much?

It was a line that I didn’t know existed — at least for me anyway. I didn’t see a problem having sex with Pastor Y/N. In fact, it was my dream to have sex with him as an adult now that I know what he has done to me. Unfortunately for me, the fear and guilt came back to bite me in the ass, and now I was unsure of what would be the right choice for me. I felt like a mom nagging to myself and hating it because I had to wash the dishes.

Well, I already went this far so it would be far too late for me to give it up and go home. The least I could do would be to suck his cock and call it a day.

“Kibum, do you want to come to the bedroom?” He called me, to which I immediately complied regardless of any prior thoughts. I walked over to his room, where I saw a very neat room with a comfortable-looking bed and antique-looking pieces of furniture with fake plants around them.

“Come and sit here! I won’t hurt you!” My body began to vibrate, but was unsure whether it was a bad thing or not. But either way, I crawled over to him, with my butt facing him. I could tell it aroused him since he would open my butt cheeks so he would lick me there. Or… at least he would’ve due to my butt plug was in the way.

“I see you’re prepared for me, Kibum! Should I remove that for you?” I nodded my head quickly, and he did what he needed to do. He slowly pulled out my plug, in which I felt everything from the stretching to the rubbing on my prostate. When it was out, I could feel cold air going inside. That stopped when he put his warm fingers inside of me.

It… did feel good, and the way he was very gentle with me this time made me convinced that he might be in love with me. From the way he would lick me, to the type of treatment he was giving me. I knew that it wasn’t something that I wanted to take away from myself.

It was time for him to go inside me, and I opted to go into a missionary position so I could see him the whole time. My legs had to go all the way up to my shoulders, but it was still enjoyable. The moment he went inside, my moans started. He still felt very big inside, just like how it was before. The way he grabbed my legs when he wanted to go faster was something that was unexplainable.

“Mmm… you’re so amazing, Kibum. You’re so tight… you’ve always been tight… that amazing boy hole…” I didn’t take notice of what he said, but the way he gave me praise overpowered any outright creepy comment he might’ve said during the session.

His grunts were something I’d hear in a hentai. If anyone heard him for the first time, they would’ve assumed that he was a toxic top, when he was really a nice person who looked out for his bottoms. Meanwhile, I sounded like I was meowing. My voice may go from low to high, slow to fast, and quiet to loud very quickly. I could also be overstimulated, so curling into a ball would be something I’d do. A typical bottom.

The way he thrusts inside was something I could explain in detail. I could feel it every time he went deep, so much that we grunted at the same time. But when he goes faster, that would be when we go out of sync and I get crazier.

“Ahhh yes… your moans are so cute, Kibum…” I just love it when he says his name. It would always gives me goosebumps whenever he reminds me of my presence and how much it drives him insane.

I want this feeling to last forever, and I want it to be with him. He seemed so into me, that I forget about everything that happened before that very moment. It felt like this was a hookup date and that I met him on a gay dating app. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been on there for at least once. And even if he had sex with other boys like me, somehow he realised that I was the boy he needed.

He needed me more than anything. And I wanted him too.

“Yes…yes… I’m about to cum…” I begged him to place his manhood in my mouth, and he did just that. His white juices went all over my face while some went into my mouth.

He laid me down onto the bed, making me relax beside him. He was still cuddling me while he went soft. He kissed me on the cheek, before falling asleep. I glanced around the room like a lost child, and my sense of my mind slowly started coming back. A part of me couldn’t believe I agreed to have sex with Pastor Y/N, while at the same time, I was glad I did.

I don’t know… but I’d say that it was this strange feeling that always gets to me whenever I look back at this very moment.

—

dividers by @cafekitsune

[silenthearts]

Hello! I know I have not posted writing in ages! I also know that I have many requests in my inbox but Ive just need really disappointed with my writing so I have refrained from writing anything. However this is just something that popped into my mind! I may add to it if you guys wanna continue reading ☺️

Drug dealer Ellie (this is quite angsty tbh so prepare for feelings 🧷)

Warning: this includes sensitive topics like drug dealing, gang fights, weed, alcohol,death, implied sexual content, please read at your own risk.

"There's no way." you tell her as you move hastily throughout your apartment. You've been searching for your keys for at least half an hour and they seem to be nowhere to be found. You wonder if you've left them in your car or in the library, maybe the coffee shop but right now, Dina's proposal is fully occupying your brain. You aimlessly continue to look through the same places you've definitely looked before.

"Look, it's just one party, it's not gonna kill you" she tells you as you flip all the pillows on your couch for maybe the 4th time since you started looking.

"That's not the point-" 

"Then what is!" She cuts you off and you stop on your tracks and sigh.

"Listen, you need to have some fun, all you do is work and study, work and study, it's time you have a little break!" She gets up from her awkward position on the couch and holds you by the shoulders "for me?" She pouts and tries to meet your gaze even if you're trying to avoid hers.

Your eyes finally meet her pleading ones, you give her a big eye roll and and finally find yourself giving in as she exaggerates her pout even more. 

"Fine" you sigh "Yes!" She squeals and pulls you into a tight hug, which you begrudgingly accept. 

You would rather not go to this party. Not that you don't like partying or anything, you kind of enjoy them a bit too much, but not this one in particular. You can admit that you have been mostly focusing on work and studying, and cleverly avoiding anything to do with Frat Parties. Or specifically, anything to do with Ellie. 

"Oh I found your keys" she says as you're about to start looking again. She startles you by grabbing them from underneath her on the couch and chucking them at you.You barely manage to grab them and with a huff you quickly make your way through to the front door. 

XXX

You sit awkwardly on the very far side of a black leather couch. The brim of the old coffee table digs into your exposed knees as the couple beside you continue making out. You wonder if they're going to do it right there next to you. You scowl at the possibility and scan the busy living room around you. 

Dina had long left you for Jessie who dragged her immediately up the stairs. Dina shot you a 'sorry but not Sorry' look as Jessie held her hand and pulled her urgently up the steps, snaking through the people speckled around. Of course, you'd end up in an awkward corner with your peach iced tea holding steady in your hand as the pair next to you dry humps each other, her elbow sometimes digging onto your back and spilling just a little more of your drink. You didn't drink, you weren't a drinking person, not unlike someone you knew. 

The faces around you were mostly unknown, with the knowledge of a few of Ellie's clients. You knew she'd been lurking around tonight. Mostly because of the drunken jock doing lines of cocaine in front of you. 

You hope she would never find you in the main room of the house, she likes lurking around wherever the whisky and weed are. So you force yourself to sit in the busiest, loudest rooms of the house, all to avoid her. People dance around you in the huge space, a disco ball spins and different renditions of 2000's pop music dubstep remixes play loudly through the massive speaker set. 

You wonder how anyone could live in this house. 

Suddenly you feel the couch pillow under you disappear as you lose your balance and finally after so much bouncing and pushing and shoving, you end up falling in the middle of a group that stood next to you. 

Xxx 

You find the garden after mortifyingly leaving as the group of rowdy drunken people laughed at you. Maybe running into Ellie wouldn't be so bad now.

"You seem to be having a good night" Shit. 

"Yeah, I was" you sigh, your wet striped t-shirt clinging to your damp torso and showing the old ratty sports bra you refuse to throw out. She sighs and takes a drag out of her joint, offering it to you as a habit. And as a habit you take it and take a drag before your mind can say no, the habit of your normal ritual sipping into your muscles. You hate that your body acts before your mind does, it's how you got into this situation in the first place.  

"I haven't seen you in a while… you don't answer my texts" she says sadly. You nod as you exhale through your nose, the weed already calming your brain and letting your mask fall slightly. 

"I know. I'm busy" you confirm taking another drag of the joint, she has her hands in her hoodie pockets, sleeves slightly pulled up, her tattoo peeking from underneath the black fabric. 

The silence hangs between you for a little while.

 Ellie tries to let the silence hang longer, but it's too much. She wants to tell you, bloody hell she NEEDS to tell you. "Look, I'm sorry -" she starts but you quickly interrupt " I'm tired, Ellie." 

"Oh… I just… what happened the other night, I'm sorry, I really am-" 

"Sorry?? Ellie…" you sigh, tears already making their way to your eyes but you blink them away quickly as you finally turn to face her directly, she looks rough. Her left eye bruised, her mouth still has that massive cut that stretches onto her cheek. Her bruised knuckles bring the joint to her lips, one of her nails is still broken in half. 

"It was nothing okay? I was safe, it was just a deal-" 

"I don't care why it happened Ellie. We know why it happened. How safe could you have been when you look like that. When you showed up at my work like that. You could barely talk! For fucks sake you could barely stand!"

Ellie let's your words hang between the two of you, your teary eyes peering deeply into her own. 

"I don't want you to get hurt anymore…" your voice breaks " and unless you're willing to stop dealing drugs and getting yourself into gang fights, I can't do this." 

"That's not fair." Ellie says anger rising, enveloping her broken voice like a blanket "You know I have to do this, I have no choice!" She throws the half smoked joint onto the grass and stomps it with her foot. You really don't want to cry, but tears spill down your cheeks. 

"You know Abby is not going to let me off that easy-"  

"Ellie!" Someone waves their arm from the other side of the lawn and beckons her to go to them. Ellie waves and looks at you one last time. 

"This conversation isn't over" she says. She wants to hold your hand, she wants to explain that she was beaten up because she tried to stop. She tried telling them she was done. But she has debt, and debt with Abby needs to be paid off. She's ashamed she had to borrow money from her in the first place. But when Joel died, and his debts amounted onto her, Ellie had no choice. 

"You know what, I think it is" you storm off in the opposite direction, pushing yourself through the crowd of people until Ellie couldn't see you anymore, her heart hurt more than the bruises and cuts on her body. 

____

I hope this made sense haha, I did not proof read it. Hope you have enjoy, send me a message and I'll write more drug dealer Ellie!

[crisalidaseason]

Hey it’s me again with the platonic asks,do you happen to have any platonic headcanons for Reiner and Marco x reader?(separately)if you write for Reiner and Marco that is lolol and thank you so much for doing my previous reqs I rlly appreciate it,also I hope I’m not being a bother with all these requests.

Hello again! Don't worry, I love requests and I write pretty much everything sooo here we go! I've been really low on requests so I am very glad you're bringing such wholesome ones. Also, I've been working non-stop so forgive me if this seems rushed or not so good. Enjooy love <3

Platonic!AOT character x reader

Characters: Reiner, Marco Content Warnings: fluff, bit angsty, gn!reader

Reiner

Big emotional man. Reiner is charismatic, helpful and attentive out of pure need to be loved and accepted, because of that he is full of insecure thoughts and also neglects his own needs. He constantly thinks you'll get tired of him, or that he will eventually disappoint you. It takes time for him to build confidence.

Protective but also extremely annoying. Likes to tease and joke with you, in a brotherly way. Also, he is suprisingly good at giving advice or just being a shoulder to cry on. Reiner molds himself for others, he will be whatever you need without a second thought.

Loves to spend time with you outside. He loves to go hiking with you, training or just going out for a swim in a river/lake. He is a very enegetic person and he likes companionship in those moments. If you are not so into physical exercise, just be there with him and talk. Reiner likes to talk about silly things, but also serious topics.

He fixes everything. If you have any sort of broken item, he will go to the end of the world to fix it or replace it for you. Reiner is a big man with big hands, but he is surprisingly soft handling your broken things and trying to restore it to the former glory. He also likes to do handmade things to gift you on your birthday or other festivities.

He is a very social person, despite his difficulties being vulnerable, Reiner is extremely mangetic and that means you end up being known by proxy. Random people will talk to you just because you know Reiner.

He is not known for self care, but if you join him he will start to implement it more. He surprisingly likes to take his time shaving his face, talking to you in the process. Reiner has a bit of separation anxiety and does not like to be alone for long periods of time.

Overall, he is a very nice friend. A bit clingy and insecure, but extremely protective and helpful.

Marco

A sweetheart, perfect little boy. He is the friendliest person ever, he exhales trust and calmness. He has a way with words and advices that quickly breaks people's walls and it's not different with you.

Marco is a very observant person, which means he notices fast if something is not right with you. The thing is, Marco is also completely respectful, if you don't want to talk about something he will not insist. He is confident you will come to him when needed. He let's you figure things out alone, but with a watchful eye.

He feels like his likes/dislikes and opinions are secondary. Marco was always praised for being the one to give and give, and he associated this with his worthyness. It takes time until he understands that a friendship is a two way street, he has to give and also receive. He still is surprised when peolpe ask about his interests and passions, wondering why the person wants to know about him.

Protective, but in a quiet way. He is discrete and also calculative. If someone tries to harm you, Marco is already two steps ahead. And believe me, he is very intimidating. Marco has height and a relative strength, which he does not like to flaunt unless necessary. He never resort to violence, but he sure uses his tall frame and firm voice to scare somebody.

His favortie activity to do with you is eating. He loves talking over tea or coffee, even eating rations in missions, he likes to have this moment of interaction, feeding both his body and mind. And Marco is quite philosophical, he loves to discuss whe 'whys' and 'hows' of the world. Sometimes he is such a silly man, but it's endearing to see.

Jean is an inevitable part of your friendship, since him and Marco are extremely close. You and Jean had a small jealousy moment, on Jean's part, but it soon faded. Marco became extremely sad when his two friends did not get along, so Jean decided to let go. You honestly thought that the tall blond had some unresolved romantic feelings, which prompted the jealousy.

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2- pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, jun's has one brief suggestive mention, fluffy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3232

a/n: tysm to everyone who read and enjoyed the whole series <33 it was rlly fun to write angst with a fluffy ending hehe

masterlist

jun -

against his better judgment, jun sat in silence for a while as he contemplated what to do. you were likely not only mad, but also disappointed at him ditching you like that. except he hadnt meant to! he truly had no idea he would sleep through the entirety of the morning. he had been so excited to spend his favorite day with his favorite person, but now he was left as a complete asshole while you believed him to have carelessly put you aside with no warning

after a few more minutes of self-pitying, he decided to get up. it was better to try and make amends and explain himself than to let even more time pass. he knew you'd be out by the time he arrived to your place, but at least that way he could fix something up for your arrival. he decided against calling you. it didnt feel personal enough, plus, the least he could do was surprise you.

without further thought, jun headed straight to your place, but not before inquiring his mom about a few recipes he knew you liked. his current plan was to make you a romantic dinner upon your return. in order to allow you to enjoy your day in whichever way you wished to, he continued to not contact you with his new plan. he knew it might've been dumb to not even answer the multiple messages you'd left him while he slept, but he wanted to apologize face to face with a romantic gesture.

preparing the meal had been easy enough. he followed it by creating a nice ambience with the lights and a few candles, along with some mellow music and incense. the next step in his plan was to offer you a massage and his wholehearted company for the rest of the night to do whatever you so wished.

luckily for him, your outing did not extend into the night, meaning his meal would become either a brunch or an early dinner. but that didn't matter to him the moment you stepped in and spotted him in suit and tie waiting for you in your apartment, eyes wide as saucers at the unexpected intrusion.

"jun?"

"wait! dont say anything. i rehearsed this, okay? let me say my thing first."

you were already used to his shenanigans, so you gestured at him to continue before voicing any questions.

"i'm so sorry. i know i promised to be here. and i was planning to be here on time! but i, uh, i fell asleep. i know how stupid that sounds, trust me! i didn't plan on this. i was so exhausted and i didnt realize that id sleep through all my alarms and your messages. my phone died last night too, so i didnt even realize you had called me. i'm just ... im sorry. i know im an idiot. please forgive me? i made you a romantic dinner to make up for it! i hope you like it, they're my mom's recipes," he paused for a second before continuing, "i love you! i wanted to spend the whole day with you, i swear. i know it didnt go as planned, but id you let me, id love to spend what remains of it doing whatever you want. im sorry i left you alone. i never meant to."

"junnie ..."

jun immediately noticed your lip begin to stick out in a pout, with watery eyes to match.

"oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry," he rushed you into his embrace, "i didnt mean to make you cry! i- how can i make it up to you? i'll do anything, just say the word."

you halted him before he could continue, remaining in his hold but disconnecting yourself enough to look into his eyes.

"no, junnie. it's just ... fuck, im sorry if my texts were harsh. i thought you had just ditched me for no reason. you must've been so exhausted, baby, im sorry. i understand why you weren't here, and ... god, thank you for the dinner. you're so sweet, junnie, im so so-"

"no! dont apologize. you're not allowed to apologize on your birthday. in a perfect world i wouldve made it home and fallen asleep in your arms instead. will you have dinner with me? then i can take you to bed," he interrupted himself upon realizing what he said, "oh, wait! not like that! but well, if you want too ... it's your day, anything you say goes. happy birthday, by the way," he pressed his nose to yours, "i love you."

you couldn't help but giggle at his panicked state, appreciating the sweet words nonetheless.

"thank you, junnie. i love you."

soonyoung -

soonyoung wasn't too sure where he was going.

it's not like be was blackout drunk, he was just drunk. period. he still had some sense of reason. he was almost 85% sure he was in minghao's car. but there was no way to be completely sure from the angle in which he was laying down. that's when his friend decided to inquire his name to check on him, thus confirming soonyoung's current whereabouts. that was also when soonyoung fell right back asleep.

next time he gained consciousness he was being dragged out of the car and being directed to follow minghao. he could recognize his new location anywhere. he was standing right outside your apartment. when you opened the door, he couldnt help but instantly let himself fall atop you, attacking you with a hug as you were forced a few steps back due to his body weight being dropped on you. you held him back, patting his back as you spoke to minghao about something. he wasn't too sure. the familiar scent at the crook of your neck had him too distracted to care.

finally minghao left, allowing you two some alone time. you left him on the couch and got him water, telling him he needed to sober up before you could talk, because apparently you had something to say to him. it was odd. you weren't cooing at him as you usually did. you also weren't stuck to his side, giving him his daily dose of physical affection like he'd always demand. he decided to shrug it off, allowing himself to fall into deep slumber on the uncomfortable space of your couch. he'd figure it out tomorrow.

when tomorrow came, soonyoung was hit with two things. one came after the other.

the first was his headache, which almost went away on its own at the mere aight of the aspirin you had left on the coffee table in front of him. he made a mental note to give you a thank you kiss the moment he saw you.

the next thing he was hit with was realization of how uneven this relationship seemingly was.

as he got up to seek you out, he stopped just before entering your bedroom, realizing you were on a phone call. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he was also really nosy by nature, so the math did itself.

"yeah. im sorry for cancelling on you yesterday ... no, i know ... it's not like that .... he just forgot .... yeah ..... he came home drunk .... i dont know. i think i'll just let him figure it out on his own .... i am hurt. we made plans and he just blew me off to drink with his friends, of course im hurt .... i'll just see you tomorrow, i gotta go take care of him .... yeah, i know im an idiot, but i love him .... okay, bye. love you too."

soonyoung could only hear your side of the conversation, but that had been enough for him to clue the pieces together. your birthday was yesterday. which was something he knew, but had completely left his mind at the mention of free drinks with the guys.

after that realization came many others.

you had shown him no type of anger upon his arrival, even making sure take care of him in his drunken state. you had changed him into his pjs as he slept, tucked him into your couch, given him medicine. even after he blew you off. on your birthday. fuck.

he gave himself no time to think before he barged into the room, immediately kneeling in front of you as he grabbed onto your hands. he paid no mind to your shocked state as he started babbling apologies to you.

"im so sorry, i- i dont know how i forgot. baby ... im so fucking sorry. i cant believe you took care of me even after i forgot. you shouldve punished me. you should punish me. i dont deserve you. im so so so sorry. i love you so much, i swear i never meant go forget. im just an idiot. that's not an excuse! you're just too good for me. I'll make it up to you! how can i? anything! please, i love you."

his rambling could only be blamed on his still buzzed state, as that had only been half of his apology. he kept going for ten minutes, allowing you no room to respond. he was surprised when by the end of it you'd instructed him to get up, almost tackling him in a hug as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he might've been an idiot, but he'd accept any affection from you he could get. always.

"soonie ..." you pulled away to look into his eyes, a sweet softness behind them. them you decided to slap his chest, making him wince at the unexpectedness of it, "you fucking idiot! i waited for you all day, and you ditch me for alcohol?"

"baby, i-"

"no! i cant sit through another ten minutes of apologies. im pretty sure you're a little drunk still. i forgive you. but you have a lot of making up to do, understand?"

he felt like a scolded puppy, but agreed regardless, telling you that he would swear off alcohol if that's what it took. he enjoyed your giggle as he suggested ridiculous ways to make it up to you, knowing he'd genuinely do anything to make up for ever making you upset.

minghao -

if he hadn't felt immediate regret the moment the words came out of his mouth, he sure felt it now, hearing you cry through the door to your shared bedroom.

he had no idea what had gotten into him. never had he ever even entertained the idea of disrespecting you like that, much less ever making you cry. he could take his job too seriously sometimes, making him a bit too irritable when his work ethic was questioned in any way. although this was true, he knew it was still just a cheap excuse for his behavior. no matter what had been going through his mind, he knew he had no right to speak to you in the way that he did, dismissing you so coldly on a day that was meant to celebrate you.

he was unsure what to do. he wanted to comfort you so badly, but he knew that he had been the sole cause for your pain. he felt himself get emotional at the mere thought, with your sobs making him weak at the knees in regret. he sat himself down on the other side of the door, knowing from the proximity of your cries that you must've been on the opposite side as well. he kept quiet, simply torturing himself as he heard the love of his life cry because of him. there was only so much he could take, however, before finally interrupting.

"my love ..?"

your cries seized a bit at his interruption, but your sniffles and heavy breath could still be heard, breaking his heart bit by bit.

"angel ... im so sorry ... i- i don't know what came over me. you're right. i should've called you. there is no world in which i wouldnt want to be with you to celebrate the birth of the love of my life. you're my everything. i want to shout it from the rooftops. i want everyone to know who my entire world is; who makes my heart beat," he took a pause to breathe, allowing himself to think of how to properly apologize to you, "i should never speak to you the way i just did, i ... im disgusted with myself. you're the most important thing in my life. being the source of your sadness makes me lose my mind. my one purpose in this life is to love you with all i have. im so sorry ... my love, please dont cry over me. no one deserves your tears."

by the end of his speech you had begun to cry harder, making his heart crumble even more.

"angel ... let me see you, please. i need to hold you, need to- need you in my arms. cant stand not taking away your pain, please, i-"

his words were interrupted by a sudden opening of the door. by the time he'd gotten up, you had already walked further into your room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you made yourself as small as possible, looking down while he approached. he knelt in front of you, grabbing your hands as he held them against his own, kissing at the back of your palms as he professed his love for you once more. he then got up and made it so you'd stand up with him, allowing him to cradle you in his arms.

"please forgive me ... i adore you more than anything."

you finally looked up at him, bloodshot eyes as he looked down at you with both worry and adoration.

"did you mean it? do you really not care to ditch me for your career? did you-"

"no! never. you're everything to me. there's nothing i hold more dear to my heart than your own. i'll never make you cry again. i'll grow old with you and give you nothing but happiness. please, please forgive me."

he knew his words could only get him so far, being fully aware that he had purposely hurt your feelings in the heat of the moment. he simply hoped that this would not cause a strain in your relationship; that you would somehow look past it and give him the forgiveness that he didn't deserve.

his thoughts were fortunately interrupted by a soft meeting of your lips, allowing him to melt into you before you pulled away.

"hao ... i forgive you. i- i never thought you'd just disregard me like that," he physically winced at the thought, "but you've shown me nothing but love and respect otherwise. i understand you were stressed, and i love you, so i forgive you."

"thank you, angel. i'll take tomorrow off, okay? let me keep you all to myself so i can show you how sorry i am; how badly i love you."

he then spent the rest of the night attached to you, waxing poetic at you as he told you of all the plans he had for the two of you tomorrow, even eventually progressing into talking about his night at the fashion show. your enthusiasm at his rambles made him realize how fortunate he was to have you all over again. he made a promise to himself and to you that he'd never lose his temper around you ever again.

chan -

"wait, what? ah! don't hit me!"

"you idiot! you're dating a literal angel and you forget their birthday?! what is wrong with you?"

"it's not today! it's, uh, wait. fuck. today?!"

checking his phone really quickly he realized that today's date was in fact your birthday. he hadn't bothered to write down a reminder for your birthday anywhere, knowing there was absolutely more way he could forget. except that the days had begun to blend together at some point, rendering him into a machine as he just went to his schedules without much thought. what he hadn't accounted for, however, was for your birthday to get lost in the mess also.

chan hadn't planned for his day to go like this. he 100% was not expecting to be berated by seungkwan the moment he stepped foot into the practice room, being scolded over being a careless boyfriend. even as annoyed as he was at his friend, he knew he was right. he hadn't meant to, but ultimately he had forgotten about you. it sucked to think about how he had bid you goodbye just this morning with not a single care in the world, now realizing that you were probably alone and feeling disregarded by him. i mean, for fuck's sakes, he had told you to take the day off a few weeks back. promising a fun afternoon together after he got off work. and now he had completely forgotten about it.

he needed to fix this, and quick.

like any lovesick guy (such as chan, who was immensely down bad for you), he ran to leave practice. he knew soonyoung would have his ass on a silver platter the moment he arrived and noticed chan's absence, but after weighing his options (hurting your feelings vs. being berated by yet another one of his older brothers), he decided you were the clear priority.

ran might've been an overstatement, but he did rush as much as he could. he wanted to account for the extra time he'd need to spend to stop by a flower shop on the way in order to beg for forgiveness in a more heartfelt way.

after picking a bouquet of your favorites, he instructed the driver to take him to your address, which led him to his current predicament as he stood outside your apartment door, breathless due to having ran up the stairs in very dramatic fashion. what could he say? he was just a boy in love.

the moment you opened the door to his knocks, he rushed in, rambling endless apologies to you as he handed you the flowers, professing his love to you while also whining (mostly at himself) that seungkwan of all people had been the one to remind him of the love of his life's special day. it was funny, really, how he didn't seem to run out of words when expressing his regret at his mistake.

you interrupted him halfway through his fourth apology, giggling at his widened eyes. okay, this was not exactly the reaction he was expecting.

"chan! jesus, breathe," you interrupted, "i'm not mad. i mean, i was. but you literally only left an hour ago, i cant believe you're back already."

"i headed back the moment kwan told me. baby. i'm sorry. i had planned to take the day off and surprise you, it just slipped my mind, i swe-"

"chan! it's fine! i'm not- i'm not mad, i promise. the fact that you came back running is so ... it's funny," you giggled again, "but its also very sweet. you have nothing to apologize for, okay? i'm just happy you're here."

he hugged you after that, disregarding the flowers in your hands as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.

"remind me to thank kwannie for reminding my bad, forgetful boyfriend about my birthday."

"yah! you're not allowed to hang out with him anymore, okay? he's a bad influence," he complained against you, enjoying the vibration of your laugh in return.

a/n: sorry some are way angstier than others ;-; i wanted to vary them a little. anyways tysm if u read the entirety of this mini series <3

[theclearblue]

Can I ask your top 5 favorite moments each from Dungeon Meshi and Blue Lock? And your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from each series? Thanks 🌷

For Dungeon Meshi I am just currently watching the anime (which I do love very very much) but idk if there's enough content yet to elaborate on top five moments :( If I had to choose a favorite character, it would be Marcille (second place to Laios) and my favorite moments so far have been the fight against the living armor, Laios mimicking a siren song (lmao), and of course Falin's resurrection! I can elaborate a little bit more on Blue Lock though (under the cut)!

Favorite Characters (no order really)

Honorable mentions: Oliver Aiku, Nagi Seishiro, Hyoma Chigiri, Rensuke Kunigami, Michael Kaiser (he's probably the most likely to move into the top 5 in the future tbh)

Yoichi Isagi

Big thing for me in every series is to make sure that the main character is someone I want to follow, and Isagi is one of the strongest characters in Blue Lock. I think it's fun to see his two sides where he's so sweet and genuinely kind to the people around him, but he also doesn't let people walk all over him, especially when it does come to soccer. Barou, Kaiser, Rin, even with the very first conflict with the kid that he entered Blue Lock with (forgot his name, the guy that gets eliminated first lol), people consistently underestimate him, and that usually follows with him crushing them lmao. Both of those sides are real and genuine, and I like how they don't really conflict with each other too, there is a time and place for kindness, but also a time for him to achieve his own goals and feed his own ego. Never disappointed with any screen time he gets.

2. Meguru Bachira

Probably the character that stood out to me first, and one that I'm really happy with how he's developed, I'm obsessed with insane energy. In a sea of really angsty and serious characters (which, I'll talk about some of those later too lol) Bachira just comes off as such a breath of fresh air in every panel with his demeanor and friendliness, and it's genuinely fun every time to see him play, whether as a friend or enemy (love when characters have unique dribbling). And I think the reason 2nd selection remains such a consistently strong arc is in large part thanks to Bachira and his character arc there, where he's grappling with actually playing with people and not just "the monster" and in turn, also dealing with the loneliness he experienced growing up. Another thing being that even after his big character arc, he's still being developed after in the Neo Egoist League (Rip Chigiri you deserved the same treatment) where he's learning to incorporate the monster back in, and the new dribbling he's developed. He's just such a fun character to watch.

3. Rin Itoshi

Yeah it was so over for me when they introduced the tragic siblings, especially when Rin is the younger brother. I wasn't super into him when he was introduced, I'm not usually a big fan of really stoic characters, but he won me over big time in the U-20 match. To see how much he looked up to Sae and was so excited to see him come back home just for Sae to try and crush his dreams, ohhhh that got me good, I felt so bad for him and everything made sense with his character. And then him going absolutely feral in the U-20 match, playing at his very best, just to get hit with this?

This is...maybe still the saddest moment for me in the whole manga, my jaw dropped when I read this. I haven't seen much of him since this match, but I'm excited to see him show up in the Neo Egoist League eventually, I think his rematch against Isagi will really really interesting!

4. Reo Mikage

If you asked me a few weeks ago, Nagi probably would have been in this spot instead, but I think Reo inched him out of that spot in the Manshine City match for me. He's an incredibly messy and flawed character throughout the series, but undoubtedly the most human out of everyone. On the surface level, I like the development of the chameleon play style he has, everyone is such a specialist but I really like the jack of all trades master of none style he has, and think it fits his character perfectly. His character development has been a little bit more in the background, but I really like how he has developed his relationship and his complicated feelings towards Nagi. He is kind of an asshole in the beginning and so codependent with Nagi, that he lashes out at everyone, but a big part of him wanting to play football is to play it with Nagi! He needed to grow separate from Nagi, and when they finally were in a place to work together again in the Manshine City match, it was REALLY satisfying. It feels earned and Reo working through both his bitter feelings but also his want to play with his boyfriend. I like how human of a character he is (especially in comparison to most of these characters lmao) and he's always an interesting player to watch.

5. Yukimiya Kenyu

Yeah you knew this one was coming if you've seen my blog in the last week lmao. The thing is out of the new characters introduced in third selection, he intrigued me the most. Declaring he's a pacifist while having one of the most aggressive play styles lmao. But then he kind of fades into the background, the only one in the top five not to score a goal...until the match against Manshine City. His backstory just added so much depth to his character and all the moments we saw before, his introduction, his polite nature, him being upset at Isagi after the last match, him praying to God, it all just clicks and it's really tragic to me how he has this timer on his dream. And then him getting that goal, despite how irrational it seemed, despite him getting into a fight with Isagi about his assist in the last game...God it's maybe my favorite goal in the series so far (well, tied with Isagi's goal at the end of the U-20 match actually). Maybe a little recency bias with him but I'm utterly obsessed with this guy, I think he's got so many layers that you can just pick at for forever.

I kind of talked about a lot of my favorite moments throughout this lmao, so I'll show you some of my favorite panels so far!

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 6 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 9K (Sorry T.T)

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Summer without your husband. You don't know what to except for the months ahead with Frankie away in rehab, but you know you want to learn who you are again.

Notes: Hey everyone, thank you very much for the support for this fic, it means the world to me to see people liking, reblogging or commenting!!! This fic is approaching the end unfortunately, as much as I love these two together, it was always meant to be on the shorter side. Since its my first ever story, I wanted to see if I could stick to a story without my mind fizzling and apparently I can ! SO HURRAY! I am anticipating 1 more chapter and 1 long epilogue after this.

I've already started working on fic #2 and #3 and I will be posting the summaries/ series masterlists later tonight or tomorrow morning :) I was also thinking on opening a poll to ask which stories you guys want me to do first.

But in the meantime, hope you all enjoy this chapter !!!!

A Change of Season

MONTH 1 - JUNE

"Are you sure, Alma? I don't want to impose on you too much..." you ask hesitantly, internally hoping Alma will agree to your last-minute request.

"Nonsense, mija. It's my pleasure. You know how I always enjoy spending time with Estrelita, and it gives me a chance to spoil her rotten. Truly, it means the world to this old woman that you trust me to stay with your little Princesa." Alma responds warmly.

Relief washes over you as you let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you so, so much, Alma. I hate asking so last minute, but my boss just called me to cover this Saturday since I have to take Ella to get her shots today. And I know Ella would be thrilled to spend time with her favorite abuela.”

Alma Vargas Morales snorts angrily on the other end of the line. "I can't believe those pendejos would make you work over the weekend like that. As if baby shots could be re-scheduled like a nail appointment! I'm tempted to march over there and give them a piece of my mind!”

You can't help but let out a laugh, picturing Frankie's spirited 72-year-old mother storming into the Florida Community College library, grabbing your boss by the ear, and dressing him down loud enough for the dean of strudents to hear. You’d pay good money to see that. “But seriously, Alma, I can't express how much I appreciate this. You're a lifesaver.”

"And you are an amazing mother, mija..." You can hear Alma taking a deep breath on the other side of the line. "Not many women would have done what you have for your daughter and your husband."

"Alma..." you begin to interject, but she cuts you off.

"No, mija. Francisco was so out of line he couldn't even see the line anymore. I didn't raise my son to act like this, and you are way better than he deserves at the moment." Alma's words carry a mix of frustration and disappointment.

Alma takes another breath, her voice softening. "I love mi hijo, I nursed him, took care of him when he was sick, I saw him grow from a shy little boy into a handsome and self-assured man. But he was never really happy until he met you, mija. Now, es el momento de que Francisco se arrepienta de sus pecados." Her tone finishes somberly.

You're left speechless, both deeply moved and unsure by Alma's sudden outburst. The woman had always been strict but loving. When Frankie was young, they didn't have much. His father died young and without insurance, leaving Alma alone to raise Frankie and his two sisters. But Alma had done her best to provide for her three children and give them every opportunity she could.

Now, Frankie's younger sister followed in her mother's footsteps as a nurse, while the eldest had become an accountant before deciding to stay home with her own children. Alma was a strong woman whom you had always admired. When you first met her, she had looked at you for only a couple of seconds before grabbing you by the neck with her tiny yet stout stature, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Thank you for taking care of mi hijo, God knows that knucklehead needs it! Just like his dad, that one is! " she had whispered in your ear before releasing you and playfully swatting Frankie's head. "What the hell was that for?" Frankie had exclaimed.

"No decir groserías," Alma had answered, her gaze piercing Frankie. "That was for hiding this lovely girl all this time and for not minding your manners. You haven't even offered her anything to drink yet!" Frankie rubbed his head and muttered, "Esta es tu casa…"

"Qué dijiste Francisco?" Alma questioned sternly.

"Nada, Nada," Frankie quickly replied, trying to diffuse the situation.

Throughout the entire interaction between mother and son, you had held back your laughter. But as Frankie's cheeks turned pink, he made his way towards you, and you couldn't help but think that you would love to be a part of this family. Since that day, you had loved Alma, and she had become the mother figure you had never truly had in your life.

"Alma, whatever happens between Francisco and me will never have any repercussions on your relationship with Ella. I would never take her away from you or your family. Ella is a Morales, and you can see her whenever you want," you assure her.

On the other side of the line, you hear Alma's sniffles. "Maldito Francisco, eres un estúpido muchacho," Alma mutters, her voice filled with frustration. "Francisco has made a lot of mistakes, but the one thing he didn't mess up was marrying you, mija."

"Gracias, mama. I promise that whatever happens, Ella and I will always be there," you express sincerely.

"Gracias, mija," Alma replies warmly.

"Is it okay if I drop Ella on Saturday around 7:30 am? I have to be at the library by 8:15," you ask.

"Of course, es muy perfecto! I'll make my famous tostadas!" Alma responds enthusiastically, her excitement palpable.

You can't help but let out a laugh at Alma's enthusiasm. "Alma, you know that Ella is just 5 months old, right? She won't be able to taste your famous tostadas for a while yet."

Alma lets out a huff, acknowledging her oversight. "I got ahead of myself; I suppose."

"I'll pump some milk and have it ready for you in her bag," you suggest. After a brief pause, you add, "Will you call me to tell me how everything is going?"

You can hear Alma's affectionate tone as she responds, "Mija, I'll send you updates every hour on your phone, with those messages things you kids always send each other. You don't have to worry. I've raised three babies, and they all reached adulthood, although some have made questionable decisions."

"Thank you so much, Alma. I really appreciate it," you express gratefully, feeling a sense of relief knowing that Ella will be in capable and loving hands.

"ESTRELLA MORALES!" The loud voice of the tall brunette clad in blue scrubs resonates through the large waiting room.

"Sorry, mama, I have to go. It's Ella's turn," you whisper urgently into the phone.

"Te quiero, mija. I will see you tomorrow morning."

Quickly, you close your phone and grab the stroller where Ella is peacefully napping. Gathering your belongings, you ensure that everything is in order before hurrying after the nurse. As she leads you into a smaller room, she introduces herself. "My name is Coral, and I'll be administering the vaccines for little Ella today," she says, reaching for the files on her desk. "I see she is here for the DTaP-IPV-Hib vaccine. It shouldn't take too long."

Coral glances inside the stroller where Ella has woken up from her nap and is looking around anxiously. "Well, isn't she a cutie? Hello, baby," Coral greets Ella warmly, taking out a bright pink rattle and shaking it in front of her. Ella responds with a delighted laugh, momentarily distracted from the unfamiliar surroundings.

"All right, mama, I'm going to need you to hold your baby while I give her the shots. She won't like it, as few babies do, but I'll be as quick as possible," Coral informs you, her professional demeanour evident. She briefly scans the page of Ella's file before her eyes narrow slightly. "I also wanted to confirm something with you. I only see one signature on the parental form, but there is a Francisco Morales listed on Ella's file. Should we be made aware of a change in the files?"

Your heart drops at the insinuation, and a mix of emotions floods over you. "Frankie... I mean, Francisco is Ella's father," you explain, your voice tinged with a touch of defensiveness. "He is currently unable to sign off on the documents due to personal reasons, but I promise he is 100% supportive of every medical decision I make for Ella."

You realize that you're frantically trying to justify yourself to this stranger, feeling the weight of judgment and the need to ensure that Ella's well-being is understood. Coral looks back at you, then at the file, before letting out a sigh. "Look, I'm not trying to trick you," she begins, her voice filled with a mix of empathy and professional concern. "But as medical professionals, we have a responsibility to ensure that the environment at home is safe for Estrella. You understand what I'm saying.” The mere mention of home safety sends a chill down your spine, the silent threat of involving CPS clear in Coral’s tone.

With a knot forming in your stomach, you gather your thoughts and respond cautiously, your voice betraying a hint of fear. "Yes, I understand," you manage to say, trying to keep your composure. "I assure you that Estrella's home environment is safe and loving. We prioritize her well-being above everything else, and we take every precaution to provide her with a secure and nurturing space. My husband is just… unavailable right now.”

Coral glances back at you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processes your response. "As you say," she acknowledges, her tone carrying a hint of reservation. However, her sunny disposition quickly resurfaces, and a warm smile returns to her face. "All right then," she says, her voice brightening. "Shall we proceed with this little shot?”

MONTH 2 - JULY

You sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun on one of the only free benches in front of the library building. With a tomato sandwich in one hand, you type a message to Mrs. Hu, asking about Ella's day so far. Almost immediately, Mrs. Hu responds by sending you an adorable picture of Ella on her belly, reaching for her favourite cat plushy, a big orange thing with oversized ears and fuzzy white paws. It melts your heart, and for the 100th time, you can’t help but be amazed at the wonderful being your love with Frankie created.

Frankie... Oh, Frankie. Today feels bittersweet, as on the one hand, you hadn’t thought of him too much, but on the other hand, you felt guilty because you hadn’t thought of him that much. Some days are almost unbearable, as your mind becomes entangled with memories of… memories of everything before it all went to hell. You replay moments: the goods, the less-than goods and everything in between. But still, all these moments were what made you and Frankie a team, a partnership. It was a life you built together. Still, you couldn’t help but question your actions and wonder if anything could have prevented the events that unfolded over the last two months.

Yet, dwelling on these thoughts only serves to torment you further. Now when these thoughts surface, you try your best to follow the guidance of your new therapist. You try to let the memories wash over you like rain on an umbrella, try to let them come, accept them without letting yourself be ruled by them. But they persist, stubbornly clinging to every corner of your mind. It's a difficult battle, and despite your earnest efforts, grief and longing persistently infiltrate both your waking hours and restless nights. The weight of it all hangs heavily in the air, casting a sad shadow over your life. You yearn for a bit of reprieve from the ceaseless ache that Frankie's absence has left behind. But today is a good day. So far.

The blaring alarm on your phone abruptly interrupts your lunch break, signalling that it's time to return to work. Hastily cramming the last remnants of your sandwich into your mouth, you briskly make your way toward the imposing building. Upon reaching the entrance, you make your way to the help desk, where you settle down and begin reviewing emails and addressing various queries from staff and students.

As you open the first email, which seems to be part of an infinite pile (how is this possible after just half an hour?), your attention is diverted by the approaching figure of the library director. A distinguished-looking older man, his hair hangs in wispy white strands, lending him an air of wisdom. His tweed suit, more reminiscent of academia at Oxford than the sunny locale of Florida, accentuates his scholarly aura.

"Sweetheart, do you mind coming into my office?" You can't help but cringe at the nickname. You've never been fond of the nickname. You were initially uncomfortable but later learned from Roberta, another librarian who looked like she was born between the bookshelves, that he addresses everyone this way. Annoying and reductive, perhaps, but ultimately benign. And honestly, apart from the cringeworthy calling, Director Robertson is an amicable presence with no noteworthy complaints.

"Of course, Mr. Robertson. Would you like me to come in now?" "Yes, please," he says, his fingers delicately twirling his long mustache, "I know you've just returned from your lunch break, so I presume you haven't embarked on any new tasks yet." Captivated momentarily by the whimsical sight of his mustache dance, you acquiesce and rise from your desk before placing a sign that reads "Keep reading - Be back in 15 min." Trotting diligently behind your boss, you traverse the expanse of the library, guided by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows. Finally, you arrive at his office nestled at the rear of the building, granting an enchanting vista overlooking a courtyard where students are rushing to their next classes.

Director Robertson gestures toward the plush, cushioned chair positioned in front of his grand wooden desk, silently inviting you to take a seat. With a touch of unease, you settle into the chair, your hands nervously intertwining in your lap. There's something about Director Robertson's stern grandfatherly demeanour that always makes you feel like a scolded child in his presence. Seeking solace, you follow the advice of your therapist, taking a deep breath and counting silently (1-2-3), before releasing it slowly, allowing the tension to dissipate. Untangling your hands, you place them gingerly on the armrests of the chair. After all, sometimes you have to "fake it till you make it," right?

"What can I do for you, Director?" you inquire, maintaining a composed facade despite the underlying nervousness.

"AH! That's what I appreciate about you, dear!" Director Robertson exclaims with a hint of enthusiasm. "You don't beat around the bush, and you don't try to kiss my ass like everyone else around here!" His words, while somewhat brash, sound genuine.

"I am glad to hear it, sir..." You respond, feeling a sense of perplexity. The sudden shift in conversation catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily lost.

"How is that little girl of yours? Your little baby, right? How old is she now?" Director Robertson inquires, a touch of warmth underlying his words.

"Ella, sir. She's just about 5 months old," you answer, a fondness evident in your voice as you think of your daughter.

"Still so young! Ah, well, you still have a couple of years before she becomes unbearable. I've had 5 of those, my dear, and let me tell you, it doesn't get easier," Director Robertson responds with jovial teasing, his words laced with a sense of seasoned experience.

"Right, well hopefully I'll survive the tween years unscathed," you respond, trying to match Director Robertson's teasing tone.

Director Robertson bursts into a hearty, full-bellied laugh, his amusement filling the room. He reaches inside his desk, retrieving an official-looking letter. "Do you know what this is, dear?" he asks, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

"I'm afraid not," you reply, your throat suddenly dry with anticipation.

"This is a job offer that the University of Florida sent me last week for the directorial position in their library," he reveals. Your heart skips a beat. The University of Florida—the dream institution. Positions like that were nearly non-existent, as it seemed their librarians were born and died at their posts, passing the torch down the line.

"That's amazing, sir! You must be really happy," you exclaim, genuine excitement resonating in your voice.

"Well, I declined the offer," Director Robertson confesses nonchalantly, his words causing a mixture of surprise and confusion to wash over you.

"Oh, but why? The University of Florida has some of the best facilities in the state, and the salary must be significantly better than what we have here. And the access to all those books—it must be incredible!" You can't help but let your tone drift into wistfulness, envisioning the possibilities.

"I'm sure it is, but I'm reaching a certain age, and I promised my wife that we'd retire in her family's home in Capua," Director Robertson explains, a hint of nostalgia colouring his words. "Let me tell you, deary, I'll take Capua, Italy over the University of Florida any day. And you know what they say: 'Happy wife, happy life,'" he playfully scrunches his nose. "Make sure your husband remembers that dear," he adds, teasingly.

A heavy rock settles in your belly at his words, but you manage to smile through it. "I'll make sure to remind him," you reply, masking any personal turmoil beneath a veneer of cheerfulness.

"You better. Men sometimes need a good whack on their head to remind them that they would be nothing without their wives," Director Robertson remarks, his fingers fidgeting with his mustache once again, as if deep in thought.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not sure I understand why I'm here," you ask, your uncertainty evident. The words hang in the air, seemingly snapping the older man back into focus. His pale blue eyes settle on you before a secretive smile graces his face.

"Because when I said no, I recommended you for the job, my dear," he reveals, his voice carrying a sense of pride and hidden intentions. Your heart stops, the revelation jolting you with disbelief.

"You... You... You did what?!" you stammer, your voice escalating into a screech. Heat surges through your body, from head to toe, as a mix of shock and astonishment overwhelms you.

"Deary, you've been here for how long? Seven years? And in those seven years, you've completely revamped this library," Director Robertson calmly begins. "All the programs you added for the students have made this place thrive. The faculty-based librarian assistance program was a stroke of genius if I may say so. And the digitalization of our database was an incredible achievement that completely propelled us into the 21st century."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in. "There was no one I would have felt comfortable recommending, as it is my name on the line. But you, my dear, I know that you have the capacity to make anything your own and make it shine."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the realization of the immense opportunity dawning upon you. Director Robertson's faith in your abilities washes over you, mingling with the heat that had consumed you moments ago.

"Now, you don't have to accept, of course," Director Robertson remarks, his tone understanding. "The university is about an hour's drive from here, so it would be quite the commute. But it would come with a hefty pay raise." With a swift motion, he slides the papers across the desk, urging you to take a look.

You turn the papers over, and your eyes widen as you see the figures before you. An 8 followed by another 8, followed by a series of zeros that threaten to make you faint. It's more than double your current salary, a staggering amount that fills your mind with all the possibilities that would come with such a raise. "That's... That's a substantial amount of money," you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. The weight of the figure displayed on the paper sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Indeed, deary, indeed," Director Robertson affirms, his voice filled with a sense of reassurance and pride.

"I can't believe it; I don't know how to express my gratitude. Sir, I am so incredibly thankful for this opportunity!" you exclaim, a mixture of excitement and nerves coursing through you. "Should I send an email to someone? Who should I reach out to? Should I prepare for an interview? Oh my god, what about my work here?”

Director Robertson's smile remains warm and comforting. "Please, don't worry about your current work here. I have every confidence that Jocelyn will step up and shoulder her fair share of responsibilities. As for the university, they already have all your information and will soon send you a comprehensive email with all the necessary details. At this stage, any interview would primarily be a formality, as I know without a doubt that you will excel.”

You rise to your feet and extend your hand towards Director Robertson, gripping his hand firmly. "I promise, sir, I won't let you down. I will do my best to be deserving of the trust you have placed in me," you affirm with determination, your voice filled with gratitude.

Director Robertson's eyes soften even further, reflecting a genuine warmth. He clasps your small hand in his wrinkled, larger ones. "There's no need to worry about any of that, my dear. Just go out there, impress them, and let your radiant spirit shine like the sun," he kindly encourages,

Tears well up in your eyes, and with a small, trembling voice, you squeak, "Would it be too presumptuous to ask for a hug, sir?"

Director Robertson's kind smile widens, and he extends his arms, inviting you into an embrace. As he wraps his arms around you, you inhale the comforting scent of old cotton and pines, a fragrance that exudes reassurance and kindness. "Thank you for everything, sir," you murmur, your voice filled with gratitude.

"You deserve every bit of it, my dear. I don't think you fully understand the immense potential that resides within you. If you could truly see it for yourself, you would be unstoppable," Director Robertson assures you, his words resonating deep within your being.

Unstoppable. The word dances in your mind. You like the sound of that.

MONTH 3 – AUGUST

“Estrelita, my little love, I wish I could give you the biggest hug in the whole wide world. Even though Papa is away, please know that you're always on his mind. Let me tell you my all-time favorite story, the one your abuela used to tell your tias and me when we couldn't sleep. It's called "El Conejo y el Coyote," and it starts like this; Una vez el coyote se encontró a un conejito y le dijo….”

Frankie's voice fades as he skillfully imitates the rabbit and the coyote on the recording. Ella seems entranced by the story, yet unsure to hear her papa's voice without seeing him there. You've developed the habit of playing the recording at least once a day for Ella, so she can always be close to her papa, even when he's away. And if you're completely honest with yourself, you also play it for you. Even after all this time, hearing Frankie's voice still makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

Frankie's letter remains unopened on your bedside table. You haven't been able to open it yet. You don't know if you will. As much as you miss Frankie and hope he's doing well in rehab, you still don't know what you'll do when he leaves at the end of next month. You know he'll be allowed visitors as of next week, marking three whole months he's been there. But you don't know if you should go if you're completely honest with yourself. You know Ella has to go, that's not even a debate. But should you?

Alma is also unsure if you should go, stating that with your new job and the new hours, you should focus on yourself and Ella. She kindly offered to bring Ella with her when she goes for his weekly allotted visitation time. You might take her up on that offer.

Frankie's voice comes to a stop, signalling that the story is over, and Ella appears heartbroken. You notice her bottom lip flutter angrily, and her face turns red. Unable to resist, you chuckle and say, "Don't get mad peanut. Do you want to listen to your papa's story again?" With a smile, you walk over to the recorder and press rewind, filling the air with Frankie's voice once more. Ella's clapping and happy expression from her playpen make your smile widen.

Currently, she is nestled on a mountain of soft pillows, engrossed in playing with the play gym you got her when the rattle lost its appeal 3 weeks ago. It's hard to believe she's already in her sixth month—time has flown by, and she has grown so quickly. The thought nearly brings tears to your eyes. Ella is determinedly reaching for one of the planets hanging from the chord, but her little arms fall just short of grasping it. You laugh at her expression of determination, reminding you of Frankie and his own determined expression when he was working on revamping an old beat-up mustang, he got at a garage sale.

However, your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a rapid succession of knocks at your door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Coming!" you bellow loudly, making your way toward the door.

You open the door and are greeted with Benny's grinning face, in one hand holding a 6-pack of beers and in the other holding a toolbox. You roll your eyes and say, "You didn't have to bring anything, Benny. You're helping me, so I should provide the beer."

Benny smiles and replies, "Don't worry about it, sunshine. I had to make sure the good stuff would be here."

Teasingly, you inquire, "Are you doubting my beer selection, Benny?"

He lets out a laugh and says, "Nah, not you. Just Fish. You know he drinks that watered-down piss that passes for beer. I had to make sure there'd be something with more substance available."

"You're such an idiot, and you know I have tools, right? Frankie's got the locker full of them."

You scratch your head in embarrassment and continue, "I just don't know how to use them, that's all."

Benny laughs and says, "I can't in good conscience use another man's tools. Those things are like sacred, you know? Can't go around and mess up Fish's system or whatever."

You look at the large toolbox and see the name "W. Miller" written in large white letters on the front. You snort, "So that's why you took Will's tools?"

Benny's ear turns slightly pink as he responds, "He's my brother, everything that’s his, is mine or whatever."

You roll your eyes playfully, "All right, well, can I offer you one of the beers you brought then?"

Benny replies, "Nah, not right now, sunshine. I've got to be on my A-game to fix your shit. Where is it, anyway?"

You lead Benny toward the bathroom, where the fan is closed. Flicking one of the two switches, a loud groaning noise emanates from the top of the shower.

"The fan is busted. Now when I take a shower, I turn the whole place into a sauna. And I'm getting a bit afraid that mold or mushrooms are going to appear, you know? The landlord said he was going to fix it, but it's been 3 weeks with no answers. If Frankie were here, he would..."

You stop yourself, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Anyway, I told the landlord that if he provided the materials, I'd fix it, and here we are."

Benny smiles and says, "Shouldn't be too hard. Are you ready to play assistant contractor, Sunshine?"

You snort and reply, "Sure, boss. Lead the way."

Benny puts the toolbox next to the sink and goes to inspect the damage. You hover around the door, keeping an eye on Ella who is still in the same position as earlier, now listening to Frankie tell a story about two volcanoes who fall in love. The scene brings a smile to your face.

"Hey, assistant, before I get started, do you mind shutting down the electricity for the bathroom, so I don't become Toasted Benny?" Benny asks. You nod and reply, "Sure, give me a sec." Making your way to the electrical box, you turn off the power in the bathroom. On your return, you quickly check on Ella, who is still determined to grab the hanging planet. You smile and give her nose a tiny kiss before making your way back inside the bathroom.

"All closed, Ben," you inform him. Benny responds, "Awesome. Can you grab me one of the adjustable wrenches? It should be on the top of the box. I'll just take out the old fan, disconnect the wiring, and fit the new fan inside. Should be all done in an hour."

You nod and pick up what looks like a wrench, though you're about 73% sure it's the right one. You ask, "Is this okay?" Benny extends his hand and says, "Yep, all good. Give it here." You place the wrench in Benny's hand, and he smiles at you, saying, "See, you aren't so hopeless. By the end of today, you're going to be the best assistant contractor in Florida."

You smile at Benny's puppy-like excitement and reply, "Sure, Ben, sure."

You watch Benny diligently work on the fan, removing the old moldy contraption. He lets out a whistle at the sight and exclaims, "Fuck, when was that thing installed? The fucking Stone Age?"

"Pretty sure caves weren't equipped with centralized electricity," you quip back. Benny looks down from his elevated position on top of the bathtub and retorts, "Ha. Ha. Ha, aren't you clever." You give him a broad smile and reply, "I know, right?!"

"Why don't you be clever over there and throw that old fan away," Benny suggests. You nod and reach for the old fan, making your way toward the bin. As you do, you hear Benny shout after you, "Make sure to bring back the new one!" You roll your eyes playfully and respond, "I'm not that clueless, Benny!" A loud chuckle echoes from the bathroom as you head to the counter where the shiny new fan awaits. Your eyes briefly glance at Ella, and...

"BENNY, BENNY, COME HERE QUICKLY!"

You hear a commotion coming from the bathroom as Benny stumbles out, panicked. "What?! What's wrong?!?!" he exclaims. You simply point to the living room carpet, your eyes filled with happy tears. "Look!!!" you say, barely able to contain your excitement.

Benny follows your gaze and looks down to see Ella on her belly, attempting to crawl toward the coffee table where the recording of Frankie has stopped playing. You urgently shake Benny's arm. "Quick, quick, grab your phone!!! Oh my god, she's never crawled before, Ben!!! I have to film this. Quickly, my phone is in the bedroom, grab yours!!!"

Benny's eyes widen with a mixture of astonishment and joy. Without wasting a second, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens the camera “Go to her! I’ll be your own cameraman!!!”

You smile warmly and swiftly make your way to Ella, crouching down next to the coffee table as she momentarily pauses in her crawling. She looks up at you with tired yet determined eyes. "Come on, my little peanut, you're almost there!" you cheer, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. In the background, Benny chimes in with a playful exclamation, "Let's go, Ella! Show them who's the best fucking baby in the world!"

You shoot Benny a disapproving look, and he responds with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Sunshine, I'm just...so excited!" he says, his words stumbling out of his mouth. Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to Ella. "Come on, peanut, you've got this!" you encourage her, your voice filled with loving adoration.

Ella's determined expression, so much like Frankie's, reappears on her face as she resumes her crawling. Benny and you continue to shout words of encouragement, your voices filled with excitement and pride, as she inches closer and closer to her destination.

Finally, Ella reaches the coffee table, and without hesitation, you bend down to grab her, gently scooping her into your arms. Overwhelmed with joy, you give her a crushing hug, unable to contain the immense love and pride you feel in that moment.

"You did so good, baby. Mama is so, so proud of you!" you whisper, your voice filled with pride. With a tender smile, you softly nuzzle your nose against Ella's. Ella coos happily in response, her little sounds of joy filling the air and further melting your heart.

You bring your face up and turn towards Benny, who is still holding the camera, a hopeful look in your eyes. "Did you catch all that, Ben? Wasn't she absolutely amazing?" you ask, eager to hear his response. Benny's face lights up with his signature megawatt smile, and he exclaims, "SHE WAS GREAT!!! Ella, you are just like a shooting shining star!!!”

Benny continues, his excitement contagious. "Now, proud mama, you got anything to say to the camera?" he prompts. With a radiant smile, you twirl around, holding Ella close to your heart. "Only that I've got the bestest little peanut in the whole world!" you declare with overflowing love and pride. Ella lets out a happy squeal in response, and the sound of Benny's laughter echoes in the background.

MONTH FOUR – SEPTEMBER

Frankie found himself seated at one of the picnic tables outside, overlooking the tranquil man-made pond in the rehab facility's backyard. Nervously fidgeting with his fingers, he’s been reflecting all morning on the past three and a half months he’s spent here. His mother had eagerly awaited the fourth month when visitations were permitted. However, Frankie had approached the session coordinator and asked for a delay in visits. Despite his deep desire to see his mother, sisters, daughter, brothers, and… You, he didn't feel emotionally prepared for it. Not yet.

The day before September 1st, Frankie had experienced a crippling panic attack that left him completely incapacitated. The following morning, he gathered the courage to stride into the office of the head therapist. Once there, Frankie had explained to him that he needed more time before he would be able to face anyone. Dr. Stevens had smiled and told Frankie how proud he was that he was finally setting boundaries and acknowledging his limits. If there was on thing Frankie’s time in the rehab had taught him, it was the value of recognizing his own needs, a lesson he had never truly internalized during his years in the army. He had become so accustomed to unquestioningly following orders, regardless of the harm they inflicted on him, that he had forgotten that he needed to care for himself and listened to his needs sometimes.

During therapy sessions, Dr. Stevens had emphasized the significance of listening to Frankie's own desires and engaging in introspection. The therapist pointed out that, by consistently ignoring his own wants, Frankie's inner turmoil found an outlet through self-destructive behaviours. Dr. Stevens believed that if Frankie started paying attention to his own needs and delved deeper into self-reflection, the compulsion to numb his pain with cocaine might gradually diminish, even if only minimally.

Frankie sighed heavily, his hand sweeping across his face as he noticed a mother duck leading her adorable ducklings across the serene lake. These past few months had undoubtedly been the most challenging period he had ever faced, and Frankie had been shot multiple times before. So that’s saying something. Confronting the stark contrast between the person he believed himself to be and the person he had become, all while battling intense withdrawal symptoms, had left him feeling lethargic during the initial weeks.

Throughout his life, Frankie had always viewed himself as a provider, a dependable man on whom others could rely. Memories flooded his mind, particularly the day his father passed away when Frankie was just a young boy. He vividly recalled how, the day before his father's death, the man he had admired for his strength and dedication to his family had called upon ten-year-old Frankie. "Francisco," his father had spoken with pain, surrounded by the incessant beeping of medical equipment, "I need you to take care of your mother and sisters when I'm gone. You will be the man of the house, and it's your responsibility to look after those you love."

Frankie had internalized those words and earnestly tried to fulfill his father's wishes, caring for his mother, sisters, and eventually you and Ella. However, in the end, he felt that he had failed spectacularly. When he confessed these deep fears to Dr. Stevens, a wave of vulnerability washed over him, tears streaming down his face. The older therapist regarded Frankie with a sympathetic expression, moving closer and offering a tissue.

"You haven't failed anyone, Francisco," Dr. Stevens reassured him, gently patting his back. "Yes, you've made mistakes, but now you are making the right choices and striving to make amends. You don't have to live up to any expectations or face external pressures alone. Your focus should be on taking each day as it comes. As long as you care for your wife and your little girl, it will be enough. I am certain that if they were here, they would tell you the same."

Then, Dr. Stevens had Frankie make lists. A list of the things he was most afraid of:

Loosing you and Ella for good

Seeing his brothers die

His mother never forgiving him

Dying before he could see Ella grow up

Not being the man, his father wanted him to be.

Then a list of all those he had hurt,

You and Ella, the two persons cherished the most.

Ben, Will and Pope, the brothers who counted on him and whom he let down.

His mother who didn’t raise him to be what he his today

Tom, whose life was lost due to the choices he made.

Himself himself

Then a list of all he regretted

Lying to you, betraying your trust.

Bringing drugs home, staining the sanctity of the home you built together

Taking your love for granted, failing to appreciate you.

Keeping himself closed off, unable to fully express his emotions.

Shooting first Causing Tom’s death

After finishing the lists, Frankie was instructed to go back to his room and engage and reflect on what he had written. Left alone with his thoughts, Frankie delved into the profound weight of his past actions and the far-reaching consequences they had on the people in his life.

Even though it was incredibly tough, Frankie drew strength from imagining you and Ella right there with him, offering unwavering support. Your smiles and hopeful expressions fueled his determination when he felt overwhelmed and tempted to give up.

Frankie knew how crucial it was to take his recovery seriously. He understood that unless he fully committed to it, the chances of winning you back would dwindle. But it wasn't just the fear of losing you that pushed him forward. Deep down, he genuinely wanted to change. He wanted to be a better man, not just for you but also for himself. He didn't want to be that scared and dishonest boy anymore.

Frankie was well aware of the pain he had caused you, and he acknowledged that the drugs were only a fragment of the larger issue. He understood that his actions stemmed from a deeper problem — his reluctance to open up and reveal the parts of himself he found most fearful and repulsive. The mere thought of you looking at him with disgust in your eyes was unbearable to him.

Deep down, Frankie knew that such concerns were unfounded. He knew that you would never judge him for his past or hold his mistakes against him. However, fear and self-hatred have a way of distorting one's thoughts and leading to irrational behaviour. Frankie recognized the irrationality of his actions and the influence fear and self-doubt had over his decisions.

But Frankie was learning. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his fears and self-judgment were hindering his progress. He began to realize that the path to healing required vulnerability and trust, especially in his relationship with you. Overcoming his own insecurities and learning to open up was a crucial step towards rebuilding the trust he had broken.

For Frankie and you to have a chance at reuniting, he understood the importance of treating you as an equal partner, rather than just his wife in need of protection. Opening up and being honest with you were crucial steps he needed to take. In the group therapy sessions, the topic of his treatment towards you had come up, and one woman in particular, Ronnie, didn't hold back in expressing her opinion. She bluntly stated that if she were in your position, she would have swiftly shown Frankie the door, recounting her own experience with an ex-husband who had been a taciturn statue throughout their short-lived marriage.

Ronnie's words struck a nerve with Frankie, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He felt raw and tender. But he could only acknowledge that she had a valid point. He had failed to communicate and share his thoughts and emotions with you, and that had taken a toll on your relationship.

Dr. Stevens had attempted to calm the group, but the impact of Ronnie's words lingered within Frankie for a couple of days afterward. Frankie had no choice but to confront the truth of how his behaviour had affected you and how he had fallen short of being the partner you deserved.

Frankie's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a firm clap on his back, drawing his attention away from the peaceful pond. Frankie's face lit up with genuine joy when he catches the blue eyes of Will looking back at him.

"Will! Man, it's so good to see you!" Frankie exclaims, rising from his seat to embrace his friend in a tight hug. "How have you been, brother?"

"Good, good. Same old routine—VA visits, giving speeches, and keeping Benny out of trouble," Will replies, "Oh, and I might have met someone special," he adds, a playful grin on his face.

Frankie's face lit up even more. "That's fantastic, Will! I'm really happy for you," he exclaims, gesturing for his friend to take a seat on the opposite side of the picnic table. "This spot gives you the best view of this place," Frankie remarks, pointing towards the serene pond and the ducks swimming on its surface.

Will settles into the seat with a contented smile. "I can see why," he replies, appreciating the calm scene. His eyes then shifted to Frankie, noticing a change in his friend's demeanour. "You look good, Fish. Actually, better than I've seen you in a while," Will remarks, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

Frankie's expression softens, gratitude filling his gaze. "Thanks, Will. I feel good too," he confesses, a mix of relief and newfound understanding in his voice. "Being here has given me the time and space to confront things I wasn't ready to face about myself. I wish I had done it sooner, instead of being so stubborn. It was the best thing I could have done for myself and for them," he explains.

Will's smile widens, expressing his genuine happiness for his friend. "I'm glad to hear it, Fish," he replies warmly.

As the two friends catch up, their conversation started to delve into the time they had spent apart. Frankie eagerly sharing his experiences in group therapy and the progress he had made with his personal therapist. He spoke openly about the challenges he faced during the initial month of withdrawal, recounting the intense loneliness that had enveloped him during that period.

Frankie's voice grew heavier as he broached the topic of guilt surrounding Tom's death. Will's gaze turned serious, his eyes locked onto Frankie's, conveying a sense of understanding and empathy. With a firm conviction in his voice, Will interrupted Frankie's self-blame.

"None, and I mean it, Fish," Will asserts, his words laced with sincerity. "None of what happened in Colombia was your fault. We all had a part to play in those circumstances, and you don't have to shoulder that burden alone, alright?"

Tears welled up in Frankie's eyes as he nodded, his voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you, Will," he chokes out, his voice thick with emotion. "I needed to hear that, to be reminded that I'm not alone in this. It means the world to me."

Will reaches out and places a comforting hand on Frankie's shoulder, offering both physical and emotional support. "You never have to face this journey alone, Fish," Will assures him, his voice filled with unwavering loyalty. "We're in this together, and I'll always be here for you."

A brief pause hung in the air as Frankie's gaze shifted to the side, a touch of melancholy crossing his face. He mustered the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind, his voice tinged with longing. "Did you see my wife and Ella while I was away... How... How are they doing?"

Will's smile softens, his own eyes wandering toward the ducks in the distance. "They seemed well," he replies. "Ella grew like a weed, you know. And your lady, she's doing great. Got herself a new job with better pay. I could tell she was really proud of it."

Frankie closes his eyes, allowing the words to wash over him. For a fleeting moment, guilt threatens to seep in—the guilt of not being there by your side. But just as quickly, it dissipates, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for you and the strides you were making while he focuses on his own journey of healing. "A promotion, huh? She's so smart. I can't wait to tell her how happy I am for her," he whispers. A spark of excitement flickers within him. "Did you guys celebrate? Because I can organize something once I'm out."

Will's smile broadens. "We thought we'd wait for you, but we did take her and Ella to Outback Steakhouse," he reveals. "Is she planning to visit before you leave?"

"I'll be out in two weeks, and Mama is coming with Ella next week, but I think it's best if we wait until I'm out," Frankie explains, his voice tinged with a mix of longing and practicality.

"That's fair," Will nods understandingly. "She seems well, Fish, but I can tell she's lonely. She looks like she misses you."

Frankie's eyes brim with tender determination, "She could never miss me as much as I miss her and Ella. This time here has made me realize how fortunate I am and how close I came to squandering it all. I'll never make that mistake again, Will, believe me."

A twinkle appears in Will's eyes as he reaches for his back pocket. "Wait, I have something for you," he said, pulling out his phone and opening the camera app. He scrolls through a collection of pictures; some he had taken himself and others that you had sent to him. "These are for you. Your lady wanted to make sure you knew they were doing all right."

As Frankie continues scrolling through the photo albums, he was greeted by a plethora of precious moments captured between you and Ella. Each image held its own story, showcasing the love and joy that radiated from your little family. In some pictures, you cradled Ella in your arms, your eyes filled with tenderness. Other photos focused solely on Ella, capturing her adorable expressions and mischievous nature. And then there were the silly selfies—the ones that always brought a smile to Frankie's face. They were the ones you both loved to take, capturing the candid, carefree moments of your lives.

There were morning snapshots, featuring tousled bedheads and tired smiles, Ella playfully blowing raspberries at the camera. Other pictures overflowed with warmth and sunshine, showcasing the adventures you embarked on during the summer. Ella in her tiny bathing suit, her chubby fingers clutching a plush cat toy. You and Ella wearing matching sundresses adorned with elephants, holding a basket full of produce from the farmer’s market. Frankie's heart swells as he sees an image of you delicately feeding Ella a small bite of ice cream.

Tears well up in Frankie's eyes—a mixture of longing and joy. Joy because he is so grateful to see you both thriving and creating beautiful memories. Sadness because he has missed out on these precious moments. As he continues scrolling, he stumbles on a video. With a quick double-tap, he initiates the playback, and your voice resonates from the phone's speakers.

"Come on, quickly, take out your camera..." your voice echoes, filled with excitement.

"Fish, wait a second, you should turn that off," Will's voice interjects, attempting to grab the phone.

But Frankie evades him, his body turning towards the lake, his back to Will. His heart yearns to hear your voice, to immerse himself in the presence of the family he deeply misses. The camera comes into focus, and there you are crouched next to the coffee table with Ella... Is she crawling?! Frankie's heart tightens as he watches his little Estrelita grow up right before his eyes, slowly making her way toward you.

And then he hears it, a voice echoing through the phone, "Go to her! I'll be your personal cameraman!!!" It's Benny's voice and Frankie's body tenses in response. The video continues, capturing your shouts of encouragement to Ella, and even Benny's voice cheering, "Let's go, Ella! Show them who's the best fucking baby in the world!"

Frankie catches your disapproving look at the camera, and Benny offering a sheepish apology. Sunshine. Benny called you sunshine. But it's just Benny being Benny, right? It has to be. Benny would never... he couldn't possibly… Do that. But deep down, Frankie can't help his mind from wandering into unsettling territory.

The video plays on, but Frankie's focus wavers. He can't seem to see anything else on the screen. And then, finally, Ella reaches you, and Frankie is jolted from his daze by your scream of excitement. Suddenly, a cold shock washes over him as he hears Benny's voice again, "Now, proud mama, you got anything to say to the camera?"

Your radiant smile is directed at Benny; Ella's happy satisfied face is all for Benny—it's all too much. He isn't there. But Benny is. Benny is there. Frankie can feel himself spiralling.

The phone is snatched from his hands, and Will sits down next to Frankie, gripping his shoulder firmly. "Benny was just there that day to fix the fan in the bathroom, it was all just circumstances, I promise you," Will reassures him. Frankie's voice trembles as he responds, "The fan was broken? And I wasn't there to fix it. But Benny was."

"No!" Will's voice booms with determination. "Don't go down that road, Fish. Understand? There's nothing going on between your lady and Benny. You've made incredible progress these past few months, and I'll be damned if you let yourself fall into another dark place. I wasn't there last time, but this time, I'm right here with you!"

Frankie's mind whispers, "Maybe it would be easier if I didn't come back. She has a new job, and Ella seems well. They'd probably be better off without me." He looks down at the ground, feeling his hands twist anxiously.

"Are you kidding me?!" Will exclaims. "Frankie, these girls love you more than anything in this world. If you leave, they'd be shattered. You're not thinking straight right now. Remember why you made that recording? So that Ella wouldn’t forget your voice. Fish, you knew you'd miss a lot of things by being here. But look, today you've been telling me how much progress you've made, how you're ready to open up and communicate better with your lady. With us. Well, let me introduce you to a new concept: trust. You need to trust that she would never do anything to hurt you. And you need to trust that Benny would never betray his own brother like that, okay?" Frankie takes a deep breath, absorbing Will's words.

“You are right. Of course, you are right. Sorry for freaking out like that.”

"It's all right. Are you really okay though?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.

Frankie's mind balks. Is he really… Okay? He doesn't have a definite answer. The old Frankie would have brushed it off, assuring Will that he was fine and that he didn’t care that Benny was seemingly playing house with you and Ella. Then he’d go snort a line in the bathroom to take the edge off.

"I don't know, Will. I don't know if I'll ever be all right." Frankie puts his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his emotions bearing down on him. Will places a reassuring hand on Frankie's upper back. "Then we'll take it one day at a time.”

One day at a time. Just 14 more days until he sees you and Ella again. Only 14 days until you decide if you want him back. Just 14 days until he must confront the consequences of his actions and the pain, he caused you over the past few years. Those 14 days stretch before him, both seemingly endless and surprisingly close. Is he truly ready? The honest answer is, he doesn't know.

Next chapter

[harudnae]

Draft purge will resume soon. For now: angsty fic written between a fever and disappointing news on a very meh day 🤷

Basically: Rayleigh's internal monologue after the war in Marineford, with spoilers up to Wano, heavy feels included, hurt no comfort.

(I post this immediately after writing it because it hurt me enough that I don't want to read it again. We're all different, but a warning can't hurt. Ha. Hurt. I'm going to nest under a blanket once I'm done.)

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.01.31

Rating: General

Summary: Rayleigh, after the war.

Content warnings : angst, hurt no comfort, 3 out of 5 stages of grief (anger + bargaining + depression), Roger x Rayleigh if you squint (platonic works too, either way it's not the main focus), sad ending, I repeat: it starts bad and it ends worse

Word count: ~700

☠️ Gloom and doom

Rayleigh will never forgive Sakazuki, and vows to kill the man on the spot if he ever gets the chance. If he can't he'll die trying, and he'll make sure the bastard is permanently incapacitated.

Rayleigh will never forgive Teach, more so since he was a Whitebeard Pirate for decades. Rayleigh always had a bad feeling about him, even back when he was a rookie, but he went far beyond unforgivably despicable and dragged too many people down for him to rise with his dark schemes.

Rayleigh will never forgive Sengoku, even though he knows that the Fleet Admiral had his hands tied and the Five Elders have been ordering him around for a long time.

Rayleigh will never forgive Garp, even though he knows that he did whatever he could considering his rank and fame in the Marine.

Rayleigh will never forgive Whitebeard, to think that after all this time, the friendly rivalry, their epic battles, the feasts and drinks shared... He never told Rayleigh, or anyone else for that matter, never mentioned who he chose to replace Oden as Second Division Commander.

(Newgate entrusted Roger with his brother and took in his son in turn, he traded a brother for a son and they were family, but Roger's family was still there too–)

What was Roger thinking? He trusted Garp to a fair extent, but Rayleigh is the one with whom he raised two sons, and he could have raised another one, had Roger given him the chance.

And Rayleigh knows, has known for so long, that Roger didn't really think everything through, but this is just fucked up. Leave it to Roger to take the absolute worst decision of his life when Rayleigh isn't there to do anything about it.

Rayleigh will try, but he doesn't know if he can forgive Roger, either.

But above anyone else, Rayleigh will never forgive himself for not recognizing the rising pirate he met in Sabaody a few years ago.

His damn freckles were enough to distract him from the same eyes, same smile, same threatening Haki, even the fact that he had the same name as Roger's goddamn sword.

Ace. And his first mate, Deuce.

How could Rayleigh be so blind and absolutely out of his mind not to see how similar they were?

Ace died smiling.

So amazingly alike, until the very end...

Rayleigh buries his head between his hands and closes his eyes, heart heavy with the growing void inside it.

"The One Piece, huh... I wonder who will find it."

"My son, obviously!"

"You don't even have one!"

"I'll have one! Just you wait!"

Tears spill from Rayleigh's eyes, and heavy sobs shake his shoulders.

He was so focused on meeting the boy that Shanks entrusted the straw hat to, that he never even considered that Roger's biological son could be somewhere out there.

How stupid was he not to recognize the fire in the teenager's eyes? Devil Fruit aside, Rayleigh should have known. Should have, could have– and now it's too late.

How cursed is the Gol D. bloodline that Ace met Roger's nakama but none of them could do a thing to prevent either deaths?

How ironic that Rayleigh kept tabs on Shanks and Buggy as if they were Roger's only sons, but he never knew who Ace truly was...

How unfair is it that Ace grew up with Luffy – Garp's own grandson, of all absurd coincidences – who inherited Roger's dream and his straw hat, while Ace only had profound resentment towards the infamous reputation tainting his birth name?

How unforgiving is fate that Luffy is now the one going after the One Piece, while his sworn brother never even dreamed of going to Laugh Tale? His sworn brother, the son of the King of the Pirates, heir to the one that sent all these sailors on the Grand Line and without whom the title Luffy wants to claim wouldn't even exist!

How painful to lose a part of himself that Rayleigh didn't know existed until now...

Nothing makes any sense and everything's bitter.

Rayleigh doesn't even know what to believe in anymore.

Let's hope Shakky will let him drink her bar dry this time, too.

[katsettee]

Greetings! I love your art so dang much!! May I ask your headcanons on the LU boy’s ages?

Totally don’t feel pressured, just curious <3

Have a dandy day!

~🦋🤠

Thank you! I have been thinking really hard about this for a while but I think I have my answer.

This is all purely headcanon and how funny I think it would be for their dynamics and relationships.

The ages themselves are kind of fuzzy, but age order in my mind from oldest to youngest goes:

Time(ofc), Twi, Sky, Warriors, Hyrule, Legend, Four, Wild, and finally Wind.

In my mind, Time and Sky have experienced the most time between their last adventure and the crossover, Time obviously because he is just a whole ass adult married man now and Sky because I would like to think he has gained some responsibility and has started the establishment of Hyrule. I would put Time at mid 30s and Sky mid 20s.

I see Twi as significantly older than the others but with little desire to take charge, seeing as he has no experience in leadership to any capacity, but is the ultimate big brother in late 20s. I also see him as being much older than the others during his adventure.

Wars is also older during his adventure, like dude is a captain in the military, he’s been mature enough for long enough to get to where he is. This is where I get fuzzy with ages, but I would put Wars at 24/23.

This is where my headcanons really get the best of me, but I’m obsessed with the idea of Hyrule being older than Legend. I am all about the “Legend feels guilt for the state of Hyrule’s world” and “Hyrule looks up to The Hero of Legend” ideas but what I really love is complex emotions and Hyrule looking towards Legend, the hero that he can only hope to be, and realizing that its never been more than a broken child forced to think like a survivor. I view Legend as just barely pushing adulthood at 18/19 and Hyrule being 21/22. Their dynamic as two people who could only conjure the ideal image of the other (Legend saving his world for the ideal future and realizing it all falls to ruin anyways + Hyrule trying to do anything in order to live up to the “legendary” previous hero) and being ultimately disappointed by the other is fascinating to me, but I like to think they value each other without the title of hero eventually and are quite close because of that connection.

I’m going to be honest I know the least about Four, seeing as I have yet to really invest much time with his games and character, so I’m just going along with him being a comfy 18 for no particular reason. So sorry to all the Four fans but I would like to hear other people’s ideas.

Again here’s some very biased headcanons, but I like to think Wild quite literally JUST defeated Calamity Ganon and is still at that (1)17 age that we see in the game. I love the LU comic but the Wild I like to include in my works is very much an immature teen, not the angsty sad man. My preference of Wild portrayal is HEAVILY influenced by critbit and it will always be that way tbh. Additionally, Wild and Twi being the most “sibling” siblings in the group just appeals to me and putting them at a similar age gap to myself and my own siblings is just funny to me.

Finally you have the kid brother Wind, who I have such a hard time assigning an age to. His age gap is significant enough that he is much different from Wild, but I would also like to think that some time has passed since his adventure. I would like to put him at the 16 year old range, but if I’m being honest it should probably be more towards the 13-14 range- so I will probably change my portrayal of him a bit to reflect that in any upcoming content.

I am super on the fence about this and since these are fictional and very undefined characters I am mostly fine with sliding the ages up and down for enjoyment, but I suppose this is my personal view on what I think is in line with the content that I personally create. I probably will not even follow this super accurately if I’m being perfectly honest.

Thank you for the ask!

[shzmluvrs]

Hey girlypopd luv ur fics im from ur Wattpad account so mby I get favoritism jk but I rly rly luv ur Freddyxchubby reader bc I’m self obsessed an I think everything is about me but anyway I rly need more serotonin in life an hope this isn’t too much but can I get angst like a lot mby a little tiny bit of the self harmy stuff pls sry I hav problems an if ur uncomfortable writing that i totally get that Luv u <3

Girlll, don't you talk to ME about angst, you are looking at the QUEEN of thinking of overly angsty scenarios😙🤞🏽♡. Also, ty for the compliments on my previous work, ilyily it literally throws me over the moon (no, not you, Moon🥴💀💕). I really hope you enjoy thissss✨️!! Also, this totally doubles as a thank you for the artwork you did for us, I just *sobs♡*.

~ Star✨️

Not Your Fault

Prompt: Maybe it came from your own self-doubt. Or, maybe it stemmed from your parents and their need to overdo it with the scolding. Hell, maybe it was just something often reiterated to you by strangers. But, for as long as you could remember, things never seemed to go your way. More accurately, things never seemed to go right because of you. And it was only natural that you suffered the consequences of your own actions...

Even if it had to be by your own hand...

Timeline: Post S!: FOTG

TW/Content: Self harm (if that wasn't already heavily implied/said)⚡️AngstAngstAngstttt⚡️But then lots and lots of comfort⚡️Reader being cynical⚡️(very smol, dw) Thoughts/Talk/Mention of unaliveness, I think, but probably not⚡️Freddy being an absolute 😇💙saint💙😇 (most of the time)⚡️Readers parent(s)/sibling(s) being annoying

Reader: Fem! Reader She/Her/Hers Pronouns

Requested By: @lukkdukkyleak

Back to the Master List

'Snap'

. . .

'Snap'

You were stuck. This was the third time this had happened to you this week. On your conclusion, no less; the very last paragraph of your essay. You'd sit down, open up your Google document, read over your own writing for the zillionth time until you got to where you had left off...

And then, with intention to finish it up, write the last few sentences or so, you'd urge yourself to get right to work. Just start writing. Get it done. Do it.

And yet, you just... couldn't. Writers' block had now become your mortal enemy, and you'd do anything to get rid of it. Because if you didn't, it'd leave you with nothing to turn in. If you didn't have a final paper to turn in, you'd automatically fail this English class.

If you failed this English class, you wouldn't graduate in the Spring. If you didn't graduate, you wouldn't be allowed to cross that stage and get your diploma. If you didn't get your diploma, your parents would surely be more than disappointed. In you, in themselves for actually thinking you could do it...

You'd have to repeat the school year, do it all over again, just to circle right back to this final English paper. And again, you'd get stuck in your own head, fighting a mental block you couldn't even defeat right now. The cycle would go on, and natrually, it'd be your own doing. Or rather, you own undoing.

Your own fault. All because you can't write a conclusion.

'Snap'

"Did you hear me?"

Your head whipped up in a flurry, letting go of the hair tie pulling against your wrist to create one final 'Snap'. An accidental one, which gained a short wince out of you at its unexpected sting before you could even speak.

The boy in front of you took this as a sign that you were distracted, happy to repeat himself while he closed his laptop in order to see you better.

"I said, 'Do you wanna go to (Favorite Fast-Food) after school?'."

"Oh." You hummed, your eyes shifting away from his chocolate brown ones and back to your screen. At its mention, you were suddenly craving (F/FF). But you also knew better than to let yourself get distracted when you didn't have to. What was most important was this essay, and if you procrastinated any longer, you'd surely miss the due date, and-

"I'll pay." Freddy quickly added, sensing your hesitancy from his own seat before lighting up even further at your scoff. A dismissive one, sure, but it came with a smile he found hard to hate; elated that he had been the cause.

"Please, you can barely afford to get your lunch every day."

"See, m'kay, that's where you're wrong, right?" Freddy began, speed-talking as per usual, which always caused your smile to grow. "(Y/N), I saved up for a whole week so I can literally get us whatever. Those silly little drinks you like? Done. Or-or fries, or whatever? Done. I will buy you the whole menu, try me."

"Okay, okay, I get it." You laughed, knowing he had already convinced you. Persuaded, sure...

...And yet...

"I would, Freds, really. But, I don't think I should."

His head tipped to the side in confusion, curls falling with which almost caused an 'aww' to leave your lips. He stared, doe-eyed, expecting his answer because you denying (F/FF) was a first. It was a bit surprising, but your reasoning, once given, was valid.

"I need to get this paper done. Tonight. If I don't, I'll just...worry about it forever, and I won't be able to focus. Another time?"

He smiled at your compromise, the heel of his foot bouncing up and down in his seat as if he just couldn't wait for whenever "another time" would be. Hopefully soon, sending about a thousand nods your way before speaking.

"Yeah, sure, no problem!"

The bell rung, students around you rushing to pack their things away now that they were no longer confined to the hell that was Fawcett Central. You did the same, not that you were exactly excited to return to your own home. Your hopes lied in the assumption that you'd be able to rush quickly to your room. Not to be bothered for the rest of the night as you finished up your work.

"But like, are you sure, though?"

You tossed your head back, a joking groan escaping your lips as the two of you squoze yourselves between people in the hallways. And still, he went on in hopes to further convince you because, as it turned out, the boy had very little patience to wait until "another time." Something that he wasn't even sure would come.

Plus, as one would expect, he was only following his brother's advice...

"If you really wanna spend time with her, just go for it. And don't let her flake out or play hard to get. It'll show her you're persistent, and girls usually like that type of stuff. Let's them know you care."

And of course Freddy cared about you! So...

"I'm just sayin'! It'd be fun, and y'know, maybe you need a break."

"Freddy..."

"Plus...!" He interjected before you could go on. "When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"H-"

"And don't say gym class, or the Winter Carnival, or that one time with the Breyers, or that other time with the Breyers, or the glitter bomb, or...The Incident™..." He listed off with haste, all different scenarios/times where he had most definitely steered you wrong.

"Those were all just horribly timed coincidences that have nothing to do with how I operate."

"Oh, is that so?" You challenged with an amused giggle, Freddy sending you an assertive smirk right back.

"Very much so."

"And how are you so sure of that?"

"Come with me," he taunted lightly, effortlessly cycling the conversation right back to his initial goal. "Let me whisk you away, (N/N)... and you'll find out."

You couldn't help but shake your head at the dork in front of you, trying your very hardest to hold in a flattered smile at his antics. Walking backward down the stone steps as if he wasn't one off-balanced wobble away from tipping over. Sending you pleading eyes and a goofy grin along with the use of a nickname.

With the break of your own toothy smile, he knew he had won you over before you even had to say anything.

"Fine, fine...I'll go."

"Yes, yes, yes-yes-yes, I love it when you agree with me!"

"But just tonight!" You reminded, pointing an index finger that he simply grabbed, interlocking his own with it. "I'm off limits tomorrow. And Sunday!"

"Yeah, sure, you got it. You have the rest of the weekend left to do..." He waved his free hand around wildly, looking for the words he never found before finishing.

"I dunno, whatever it is you do."

"Thank god." You sighed half-jokingly, earning you a laugh you never got tired of.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

You were lucky to hear more of it, even if it wasn't in person. You reminded yourself of that over and over again as you walked home. Freddy insistent on the fact that even though he couldn't be there to walk you home himself, he'd at least stay on the phone with you until he knew you were safe.

But anyhow, you were repetitive on the fact that you had a good time, that you were lucky to listen to Freddy ramble on and on about tonight's prior festivities because of the simple fact that it had been keeping you distracted. Away from the troubling thoughts of guilt for not listening to your past self. Sure, you had a great time, but at what cost?

A waste of time to get your work done? No. No, no matter. It didn't matter now. You had done it, you had gone out and had a great time with your best friend. Now it was time to wind down and focus, return home and get your work done. You could still rely on yourself.

"Hey, it's late, I gotta go, Freds." You excused once your place had come into view.

"You make it home safe?" He double-checked, and you almost nodded, forgetting he wasn't physically there with you.

"Yeah, which is why I gotta go, dude."

"Alright, right, you're super duper busy, so I can't bother ya' anymore." He sighed through his words, smiling once he heard your quiet giggle on the other side of the line along with the jingle of your keys.

"I'll check on you Sunday."

"Wha-? Freddy, n-"

"Bye!"

And the line went dead, leaving you to purse your lips and scoff. It was a wonder you liked him, let alone had a whole crush on him, when he often times pushed at your boundaries. But, nonetheless, you were simply happy to know him at all, and-

No. No, focus. You were swift to set yourself straight, not wanting to get lost in your daydream-esque thoughts on the boy you'd been pining over for a couple of years now. That'd be your lamest reason yet on why you had deterred from your essay.

"(Y/N)...!!" The call of your name made you jump, erasing any thoughts you had about anything at all while attempting to pull yourself together at a reasonable speed. It ended with you anxiously tugging at the familiar blue hairtie around your wrist, not yet pulling it far enough back to release, but just enough to provide some odd comfort while your parent came tearing around the corner to your position in front of the door.

"Where have you been?" They asked, their tone laced with demand rather than actual worry as you stumbled to push out a viable excuse.

"I...was out with my friend, I just lost track of time."

"Mm." They hummed, never really truly satisfied with any answer you might've given as they looked you up and down. "I don't like you staying out so late, you know better. You didn't even call. You knew you had chores to do today."

"Sorry..." You mumbled, subjected back to the looming silence before they gave a roll of their eyes and sighed.

"Well, did you eat?"

"Yeah, I had (F/FF)."

"...Alright."

And that was that, your parent leaving you to yourself once again as you gratefully made the choice to head straight for your room. It was just as you left it when you had left for school early this Friday morning, which meant you had a bit of cleaning to do.

But surely, you could push that task back until later. It could always be done the moment you typed up the rest of your final paper. Without second thought, you sat on your bed and pulled open your laptop, as well as gathering any notes you might've needed together before reading over what's been typed so far.

. . .

You rubbed at your eyes until you were satisfied, your hands moving to slide above and push back your hair. As if you were ridding yourself of the exhaustion.

"Foucs, focus, focus..." You commanded yourself, repeating the word over and over again in your mind. Your fingers wandering back down to your wrist.

'Focus, focus, focus, focus...'

'Snap'

'Just focus...just write something. Just write a sentence. A word...'

'Snap'

"Ohh my goshhh..." You groaned under your breath.

'Snap'

Your (E/C) eyes wandered towards the bottom right corner of your screen, grazing over the time as if you were wasting it. Well, technically, you were. But you weren't at the same time, seeing as only a few minutes had passed since you've sat.

10:23p.m.

"Whatever, just...write." You commanded yourself further.

. . .

When your eyes wandered back to the time once more, you were left to fight the lump forming in the back of your throat.

1:04a.m.

So much time had passed, and not a single thing had been typed. You wanted to be mad at yourself but couldn't. You kept checking your phone, you kept talking to yourself, you just had to turn on the TV for "background noise"...

It looked like you'd be pulling an all-nighter this evening.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

You woke up feeling disoriented. Peaceful, sure, but only because your mind was still clouded with sleep, which left you to struggle at taking in your surroundings and the reason why your body ached.

In about another five seconds, all your memories had returned to you, and you now had the answers to all of your questions. You had fallen asleep, even after you had convinced yourself that you were going to pull an all-nighter. Even more disappointing, having fallen asleep at such an awkward angle left you with a crick in your neck that you couldn't sooth with a simple massage right away.

And to your dismay, your laptop displayed the essay that you very clearly hadn't touched. That you had fallen asleep on. You wanted nothing more than for it to finish itself at this point, but you knew better than to actually believe that would happen. Wishful thinking on top of all of the other worries you had swarming your mind. Just to set yourself straight, hastily reminding yourself you now had only the rest of today and tomorrow to finish it, you allowed yourself to stretch and shake away the rest of your drowsyness.

"What...?" You murmured the moment your finger had grazed over the touchpad, reading over the pop-up window in the middle of the screen.

You read it again in disbelief.

And then again, your anger rising at the key words; 'Remaining batter life' 'charging cable' '7%' '10 minutes of power'.

"No, no, no..." You whined, practically throwing yourself out of the bed. Your notes scattered everywhere, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you desperately searched for the charger to your laptop. When you realized, after dumping out all of your backpack's contents onto the floor, that it wasn't even in there, you grew even more panicked, if possible. If not there, where?

Scouring your room for any sign of the black cord began to accumulate a bigger mess than had already been evident, but you found it worth it when you had finally spotted it under your desk, tangled with a bunch if other loose wires and cords which left you with the tedious work of untangling them.

By the time you had finished, your room an even bigger mess and your mind swarming with curses and exasperation, you had returned to your laptop a second too late. The screen was black and the power button on the top left corner refused to light back up, no matter how many times you pressed it until you finally had to accept the fact that it had officially died. It was only when you were mid-way through putting it on the charger and plugging it into the outlet when you also realized this meant your paper may have not been saved.

You couldn't even fathom the words to bring out of your throat in this instant, angry and inaduble grumbles leaving in their place as you fought the lump in your throat. It seemed you had just woken up and already couldn't catch a break, not that you really had anyone else to blame but yourself.

If you had just stayed up and done your work like you were supposed to instead of sitting there looking at the screen until you fell asleep, this wouldn't be happening to you right now.

"Ughh, stupid, stupid..." You berated yourself, tugging at the blue hair tie and letting it snap back consecutively. It didn't bring you any comfort, but you were convinced it was an act that helped you think better, or faster. And, like usual, it seemed to work as your (E/C) eyes glanced over to your phone.

It sat on the edge of your desk, certainly not dead when the charger was connected into it. You could quickly download Google docs and pray that it had auto-saved before your computer died, and if so, you could continue writing on your phone. You-

"Hey..."

Your head whipped around at the sound of your parent entering your room, now wanting nothing more than to roll your eyes the moment they gave a look of disgust at not just the state of your room, but your person as well.

Your clothes from last night were still disheveled, your hair more than likely a mess, and surely, the bags under your eyes weren't any more flattering.

"...You need to clean this room up, it's always such a mess in here. And you still didn't do your chores from last night, so when you're done, you need to get on that."

"Yeah, I know, I-"

"Don't tell me you know. Otherwise, it'd be done. Now get started so that we can leave."

Your sigh halted, words you couldn't quite shuffle in the right order escaping your lips in distressed stammers upon hearing the last sentence.

Leave? Leave where? You couldn't leave!

"I can't- Where are-? I have to write this essay, it's due Monday, I don't-..."

"(Y/N)..." They spoke your name through a groan, already brushing off what, to them, was just excuses. "I don't have the time to argue with you about this right now. We have errands to run, and it's bad enough that now we have to wait on you."

You wanted to apologize or... at least explain how the circumstances weren't exactly your fault. Not entirely...

Weren't they?

But it didn't matter. The words got stuck once again and your parent had left, meaning that your only hope of not letting this Saturday go to waste was to try and clean as fast as possible and do your work in the car considering you were stuck using your phone.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

'Well, that was a bust...' You thought, a scowl etched onto your face as though the expression were permanent. To say you were irriated would be the understatement of the century. Even more so when you couldn't place that agitation and blame onto anyone else but yourself.

If you hadn't procrastinated for so long, you wouldn't have an essay that decided your future to work on. If you didn't have an essay to work on, you wouldn't have felt so sullen about accepting Freddy's request to basically blow it off. If you hadn't accepted his request, you would've gotten home sooner to clean and do your chores. If you had done them sooner, you would've had more time to write, and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have fallen asleep so easily.

And then these errands would mean nothing to you other than a family outing because your work would be done, and you'd have nothing to worry about. But instead, and because of your incompetence, here you were trying your best to dodge and weave through crowds of other people doing their shopping. Trying your very hardest to type and walk in order to keep up with your family.

"I don't understand why you're moving so slow..." Your parent scolded lightly, urging you to do what you were already trying to do. Only your eyes lifted from the screen, just for a moment to shoot off a glare before returning to your screen and typing furiously.

Sure, your writers' block had finally cleared. But you could only ever get in a few words every couple of minutes before you had to look up to dodge. Or, be interrupted by your family, a sibling. An annoying one, at that...

"Yeah, weren't you just here yesterday with your boyyyyfrieeeend~?" They teased, leaving you to grumble.

"He's not my boyfriend. And yeah, but we went straight to (F/R) and ate at the food court, we weren't shopping."

Your sibling rolled their eyes.

"Whatever, just saying...it should be easier for you to keep up."

"(Y/N)?!"

Speak of the devil, you and your entire immediate family's heads whipping up at the obnoxiously loud call of your name. Your eyes searched high and low, all around until they landed on that familiar head of curls and the silver of a crutch.

"Oh, hi..." You awkwardly greeted, not even loud enough for him to hear it as he approached gleefully. Normally, at the presence of your family, you'd try and usher him away. Give him the hint not to intervene and make it awkward for everyone, but mostly you. But, seeing as your family hadn't even bothered to slow down, you figured a brief conversation wouldn't hurt.

Plus, upon noticing a couple of his siblings and Rosa behind him, you didn't want to come off as brash or rude.

"I thought you said you were gonna be busy?"

The question almost took you by surprise, but upon recalling last Friday, you realized that was pretty much what you had told him.

"I am! I just...I got caught up, it's weird..."

Sensing this wasn't enough of an answer or anything excusable, you spoke further. It had inevitably dug yourself a deeper hole, his brow raising in question.

"My parents, they're just...they wanted me to go shopping with them."

"Your...parents...?"

Oh, right...they walked off....

"Ye-Yeah, they are- They were here, but I lost track of them, so..."

You were aware of how unconvincing you sounded, letting a quiet sigh escape you before checking your phone. Your essay was still intact, and- Oh! That's a good word, 'intact'... You could do something with that, let's just...add it to the conclusion...and...

What you couldn't sense was how disinterested you looked to Freddy, the boy looking back to Billy for any type of further advice. All the brunette could do was shrug from afar, attempting to entertain Rosa, who wasn't at all paying attention to the events.

Hey, mother's got to shop🤷🏽‍♀️.

Either way, to him, it looked as though you were trying your hardest to avoid him. Freddy could feel his chest tighten at just the thought, wondering why that could possibly ever be the case. Why you had become so distant suddenly. And now, you'd barely even look at him?

"So, uh...what's the deal? Did I say something you didn't like?"

"Huh?"

You hadn't looked up, leaving him to reluctantly fill in the blank for you.

"...The other night. When we went out. On that date..."

Now, this caught your attention. Your head cocked back, and your brows knitted incredulously.

"Date? That wasn't a date, I thought we were just hanging out."

'...Was...that a date?' You thought swiftly when you heard the words leave you own mouth, having not entertained such an idea before. But, now that Freddy had said something-

"(Y/N), I literally took you to your favorite place and paid for everything. And then we went to the arcade, and got milkshakes, and...well, I was gonna walk you home, but that didn't work out, as you know, since...you were there..."

"Oh."

You hadn't a clue of what to say, and the longer the silence hung over you two, the more worried you grew. Was that really a date? He didn't technically ask you out to date. He said he wanted to hang out. Maybe it was implied in his tone, and you missed it because you had been so focused on your essay.

But certainly, wasn't your essay tons more important than any date or whatever? If you hadn't gone, you would've had the whole weekend to go out on a date. Right?

Also, where the hell had your family gone? Did they even stop to think that you could really use an out right now? You had no idea what to say!

"Well, to be honest, I really shouldn't have gone at all if you think about it..."

So, you spoke without thinking. And immediately, you could tell that was the wrong answer, the words even stinging your own self the second they came out. Freddy's hurt expressions stinging even more as you lowered your phone.

"But you have time to be out and about with your 'parents'?" Why did he say parents like that? Did he not believe you? "Okay, cool. Awesome."

"I am! Was! They're here, I didn't have a choice, they made me come." You explained hastily. "Plus, I am busy. This paper is super important for me to get done, you know that."

"Yeah, I do. I also know that it was assigned months ago... why would you be doing it now, last minute?"

Holy shit... he really didn't believe you...

But it's not like you wanted to admit you had stupidly put it off for so long, either...

"Freddy..." You sighed, tossing your arms in uncertainty of what to say next. All you had was excuses. "...I didn't mean it. What I said. I'm just-"

"-Busy, yeah, I know."

More tense silence filled with the idea that you were losing him. Not only as a crush, but as your established friend as well. And god, were you trying desperately to mend it before it broke. You clicked your phone off, shoving it into your pocket completely out of sight.

"We can walk around right now if you want. Just until I have to leave?"

"Nah."

Ouch.

"I... don't want to walk on my leg more than I have to. See you around, (Y/N)."

. . .

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

... 'Snap'!

"Stop doing that, it's annoying."

And you did, for a mere moment just to give a side eye towards your sibling before continuing.

Pull... 'Snap'!

Pull... 'Snap!

P u l l. . . 'SNAP'!

"Ow..." you winced.

"Would you stop it?"

"Shut up...!"

"Hey...!" The warning yell of one of your parents stopped the bickering and the rubber band pulling, but it didn't make you want to cry any less.

"Cool it back there. This is supposed to be a nice family outing..."

If anything, it made you want to cry more.

"Well, I didn't want to even be here, so..." You mumbled.

And it was true, you didn't, having wished you had protested more earlier. Then maybe your essay would be done by now. And maybe Freddy would still be your friend...

You cried.

Well, not in the car. But you did the second you finally arrived back home, to the haven and privacy of your room to let it all out. Frustrated and defeated, your wrist still stinging and itching with welts you knew the hair tie snapping would create. But you didn't care, at least, not about the last bit. It was stress relieving, so at least it counted for something good. It was done with good intent, and wasn't that all that mattered? Wasn't that enough?

Shouldn't that be enough for Freddy? He was- No, he is your best friend. And sure, you might've unintentionally pushed him away, but it was for a greater good. You were sure. Blocked him out with a good intention, if... that even existed. So, with such logic, apologizing and molding things back to normal should be a simple task, yes?

Yes, good. Perfect. That made it easy to set aside for a later moment, hastily wiping your tears and taking in small breaths before setting yourself at your desk. Not the bed, because you would not be falling asleep this time. You would write, write wrute, type, type, type until you were done. And that's final.

. . .

There it was again. That blocking feeling. But it came back different this time, unusual and almost unfamiliar to the normal writers' block.

Freddy. Freddy. Freddy.

That's what it was. That's all it was. The words you had said, his face twisted in disappointment and sadness running through your mind over and over again. How you had hurt him.

Ugh, you couldn't do this.

9:30p.m.

You couldn't bear it. And, pathetic enough, you couldn't even bring yourself to text him. To let him know it was all your fault. To even just apologize.

You went to bed.

You'd cram all of your needed tasks in tomorrow with a fresh, clear mind...

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

This time, you had awoken to complete silence. And way later than last time, which you supposed was needed due to the fatigue of Friday through Saturday's events...

Upon doing some further snooping around the house, you had gathered the fact your family had gone out without you this time. And albeit you couldn't help but feel a little hurt, nobody having even attempted to wake you let alone invite you, you knew it was overall in your best interest.

You had a conclusion to write. After an afternoon breakfast and a fresh pair of comfy clothing, you situated yourself right back at your desk. Your laptop fully charged. Any and all disturbances out of sight, therefore out of mind. And eventually, after a good stare at the words already there, at the florescent blue light of the screen, the creative juices began to flow. You were off...

The blessing of finally being able to write lasted for only a few more hours, the sun setting and the noise of the city outside becoming evident as you leaned back in your seat for a break. A good stretch and rub of the eyes, a well-deserved swallow or two of water...

'Bonk-Bonk-Bonk'

Your brows knitted, lips unconsciously forming a pout at the consistent sound against your window. It confused you, the noise something you hadn't heard in a while. Something you only ever heard when expecting-

"Oh my god, Freddy...!" You gasped, having walked over and cautiously slid open your window. The sight of him scared you enough to practically jump back as he came tumbling onto your floor. A fall that worried you, of course, but neither of you could focus on that given a mere, lazy collapse to the ground seemed like nothing compared to the rest of his injuries.

"Oh my god, Freddy..." You repeated in utter dismay, covering your mouth with your palm for maybe a split second before you were immediately stooped by his side in order to help him sit up.

"What happened, why are-? Oh my god, there's so much bl-"

"-I'm okay, I'm okay..." He reassured quietly, moving his hand up and down as if to say, "Calm down." Not that it did any good, your eyes scanning over each and every cut and/or bruise you could find before delivering your final questions.

"What are you doing here? You...need a doctor or-or something, how did this even happen?"

He laughed, almost as if there were something funny that you didn't get. Some twisted inside joke. Twisted, because it left him...well... like this.

"Being a superhero is harder than it looks, (N/N)..."

A pause.

"Are you delirious or something? I- Y'know what? Okay, I-... Stay there, don't move."

As if he'd even try. He watched as you jogged out of your room, able to hear you rummaging around in your bathroom for medical aid while his brown eyes scanned your room. It seemed to have remained in the same state as when he last saw it; neat and tidy, minus a few distraught blankets and cords. He traced a thick, gray one up to your desk, noticing it was plugged into your still on and running laptop.

His brows furrowed. He could see the small words, even from his place on the floor by your window and almost wanted to slap himself.

You really were finishing up an essay. The easy, if anything. Instead, he chuckled. Of course you waited until the last second to do it. How (Y/N) of you.

He had to fight off his blush (and a startled jump) when you came rushing back into the room, arms filled with supplies and a worried expression etched onto your face.

"We didn't have a lot, but I really don't want your cuts to get infected..." He heard you mumble, shakily pouring bits of alcohol onto a cleaning pad.

"It's gonna sting..." You warned, Freddy nodding as fast as he could and sending you the wave of a hand, already knowing and preparing himself for the sensation. And when it came, he bit his lip to hold back what would've been squeak coming from his throat.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." You soothed through whispers, wrapping and/or bandaging as quickly yet accurately as you could. "You really should've gone to the E.R., Freddy, I can't-...I feel-...I can only do so much."

"Geez, you really don't want me around much, huh?" He joked, but even you could see the way it held some truth as your actions slowed, looking into his eyes in hopes he saw the truth in yours.

And if not, you'd damn sure say it.

"Freddy, please..." It was almost a scoff, but your tone had dwindled into something much more sincere. "Of course I want you around. I always want you around, you-. . . You make me happy, especially when a lot of things don't. Okay?"

He seemed to be mulling your words over, the boy shuffling every now and again at any certain pain that felt a little too sharp, or when you squoze a bruise a bit too hard.

"I-... It just doesn't feel that way, I guess. Sometimes, I wonder if you even like me." Again, he laughed as though he had spewed a funny joke. You couldn't return it, simply shocked at such a theory before quickly debunking it.

"I like you a lot!!"

. . .

"Sorry, that was...loud." You apologized, earning you another laugh at such sudden passion. "But I do like you, why wouldn't I? I just...had a lot on my plate recently, and I didn't know how to handle it. Especially telling you, so I just...I dunno, I guess I pushed you out, hoping you'd just... know."

Freddy smiled, one that exuded comfort and understanding before pushing your hand to the side so he was able to look at you properly. To hold your cheek in the palm of his hand and admire your face, watching at how you didn't even fight to melt into his touch.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I'm sorry that I didn't understand. I'm your friend, so, it's kind of the one job I had and I failed... but, I don't want you to ever feel like you can't talk to me. Or that I won't help you when things get difficult."

And for an extra touch, he gave your hand a squeeze of reassurance. The same hand which held the pad of alcohol in it. You hadn't noticed it when droplets went rushing down your hand and to your wrist, too caught up in the moment. All too ready to express your gratitude and mutual appreciation for him.

But you sure as hell noticed it when it stung you. Burned you, felt more like it, leaving you to let out more winces and whimpers than Freddy had during the cleaning off all of his injuries combined.

"Woah, hey, what's up? You okay?"

"Yeah, just-"

You were fast to yank your hand away, squeezing the sleeve of your sweater around your wrist in an attempt to aid the stinging feeling you were experiencing. This confused Freddy. Enough so to where he forced himself to fully sit up so he could properly inspect whatever was causing you any pain. It was bad enough that he had left you emotionally distraught and that he now needed you to take time off from your work just to help him heal from his recklessness...

The least he could do was return the favor of medical help.

"Here, lemme' see."

You didn't even get to go, "No!" yanking your wrist away from his gentle hold once again in a flurry of panic and unexpectedness.

"What is it? Are you okay?"

You eyes were wide and you didn't understand why you felt such dread. A fear of him seeing what you had never shown anyone, even though it had never occurred to you to be upset about someone finding out before.

Er...not that you were hiding it. Were you?

"It's...nothing, I'm fine. Just let me finish cleaning you up so I can-"

"Hey..." Freddy stopped your swift movements, his heart pounding at just the mere thought of you hiding anymore pain from him. Had someone done something to you? If so, he should've been the one protecting you. It was now his turn to experience the feeling of anxiety swelling in his chest.

"You can tell me, it's alright. I won't be upset, just... talk to me. Okay? Trust me."

And you did. You didn't know if it was his words or the tone laced within them. Whether you were just tired of fighting it or being upset with him. Or him being upset with you. Tired of pushing him away and... who knows? Maybe if he knew, then you could stop...

You slowly inched your arm in his direction, visibly shaking from both the sting of the remaining alcohol and the piling nerves as he steadily bunched up your sleeve.

At first, there was no expression. No words, no nothing. Was he even processing what he was seeing? The red, fine-lined welts up and down your wrist and forearm, some older and healing, some... very fresh. It made you so jarringly aware of how hard you had actually been snapping the hair tie all of this time.

"(Y/N)....what-"

"It was supposed to help." You interjected, fighting back tears you hadn't even noticed arrived. "I read this thing on this website somewhere, and I just- I- I read it, and..."

Tripping and stumbling over your words made you want to just give up all over again. And yet, even though you refused to look up to see the expression of disappointment on Freddy's face, you could feel it. And that was just enough for you to keep desperately grabbing at straws to defend your wayward actions.

"I... I used to...do worse, I was messed up. Really messed up, and it was the only thing that made me feel better. Relief, I mean, maybe not better, but-..."

You choked back a cry.

"I read this thing, and it said that a good alternative as a way to stop would be to snap a hair tie instead. It-It's less than... y'know... and it...I-...I'm sorry."

"(Y/N). . ." Freddy started his sentence with nothing more to say after the whisper of your name, watching as you couldn't help but finally burst into tears right there on the floor in front of him. It was a moment in time when he realized there was nothing much he could say or do, only wanting nothing more than for you to be okay.

"Please don't cry, it's not... it isn't your fault, (N/N)."

You couldn't pull yourself together enough to elicit proper words, wishing you could just express everything you were feeling in one go. Or at least console Freddy because that's what he came over for, after all. He needed you to be there for him, patch him up, and you couldn't even do that. Instead, things have come down to being all about you again.

Little did you know, it's not like Freddy much cared. He'd rather things be all about you and you be okay rather than no one giving you the time of day and you're suffering.

"Here, c'mere..." The boy urged, pulling you closer on his own accord when you didn't budge. "I'll clean them for you this time."

You nodded in thanks as you leaned against his chest, watching carefully through your tears as he slipped the pad of alcohol from your grip gently and began to pour some more onto it.

"And when I'm done," he continued. "There won't be a next time where I'll need to do this, 'cause we're gonna find some even better alternatives together, 'kay? Better than a hair tie."

A silence lingered in the air as you sniffled, only speaking up just before he could press the pad to your welts.

"...You mean like... like a scrunchie?"

. . .

"Pfft-!"

Freddy attempted to shield his laugh away from you, but quickly didn't bother anymore as your broken laugh joined in at your own distasteful joke.

"That's- No, you're- Oh my gosh, that's awful..." He spoke through giggles he fought to contain, even though the comment seemed to lift the both of your spirits instantly. Well, until he had to clean up your wrist...

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

Freddy's brows furrowed when he realized the sounds of your winces and hisses were no longer to be heard, even when he'd press the damp pad to your wrist or forearm. He was about done, anyways, but he stopped to check on you and became flattered to see that you had fallen into a peaceful sleep against him.

He smiled down at you, admiring you for as long as he could while finally wrapping up your arm the same way you had his cuts and bruises. And, though he would've been more than happy to hold you like this for as long as he could (yes, even if it was on your floor), he looked around the room and was swift to realize there were still a few more tasks that needed completing.

But, most important, your essay. Considering the amount of emotional turmoil it seemed to have caused you over the weekend, he figured it should be something you no longer had to worry about. As carefully as he could without waking you, and scooted and withered his way out from under you, allowing you room to stretch out against the floor. It couldn't have been the best of comfort, but he'd address it later, making his way over to your desk and in front of your open laptop.

. . .

When you woke back up, you were alarmed to no longer feel the weight of Freddy's arms around you. It made you pop straight up, your head and eyes looking around the room like a baby bird who had just hatched until finally, they landed on the body sprawled across your bed.

You almost wish it were you, your mattress much comfier than the ground beneath you. He really just left you there on the floor and took up all of the space, pillows, and blankets, huh?

You eventually urged yourself to stand, knowing you'd have to clean up a little bit at some point and finish your paper before you could join him, but stopped right in your tracks when you noticed the change in screen.

Assignment Due: Monday, 9:30a.m.

Status: Turned In/Completed

"...What, bro...?" You muttered through a rasp of drowsiness, changing directions to head for your desk rather than the clothes and lose trinkets on your floor.

Once you were able to scroll through and read your submitted essay, which you at first thought you might've accidently turned in unfinished on accident, you skimmed over the end and were more than elated to see it had magically finished itself.

Well, okay, maybe not magically...

You looked back to Freddy's sleeping figure, grinning ear to ear at what you knew was his kind gesture. Finishing your paper for you. You'd have to thank him a thousand times in a thousand ways, as many as you could think of. Words couldn't express how grateful you were, not only for him doing your essay but for him in general. You stared at your wrapped up arm, finding yourself smiling harder than you thought possible.

"I love you." You spoke aloud, flopping onto the bed without much care, simply full of giddy for how much you adored having Freddy in your life.

"You're so-"

"...I love you, too..."

You perked up when his sleep murmurs interrupted the start of more praises, smiling down at him in both fondess and amusement as he wrapped an arm around you. Unconsciously...

He had responded to you in his sleep.

Was that a lame ending, or was that the 'Boom, super profound mega happy ending' I saw it to be in my head...?

Idk yall, you tell me 'causeeee....💀✋🏽. But seriously, I really hope you liked this, I finished it up right when my sickness finally went away so, yeah💕🥴.

~ Star✨️

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