#anyways I need to get back into it but life's been in the way
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mostly-imagines · 3 days ago
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Motion Sickness
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason makes you cry after a fight
warnings: angst with comfort
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“Jason—”
He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”
Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”
“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 
You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”
He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 
A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”
“It’s not about needing it—”
“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”
You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”
“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 
You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 
Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 
“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”
There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.
The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  
You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.
You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 
Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?
You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 
It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.
He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.
Dick stills, blinking warily.
“What’re you doing here?”
His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.
As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”
Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”
Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 
“What’d you do?”
Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 
“Be myself.”
Dick says nothing, 
When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.
“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.
Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.
He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.
“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.
Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”
Jason exhales desperately.
“Both, I think.”
Dick nods, understanding.
“Then go home.”
Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“What did you say?”
He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”
“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”
Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”
“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”
Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 
He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 
The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.
He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.
“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.
He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.
So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”
There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.
“Not right now.”
Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.
He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.
He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.
He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 
Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 
It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 
Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.
He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.
He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  
He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  
“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.
It takes a long few moments, but you nod.
He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.
“Will you turn over?”
An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 
He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.
He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.
You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 
He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.
“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”
Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 
You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”
He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”
Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.
You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 
Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 
“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”
But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.
He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.
“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.
You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”
“No, it’s not.”
That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.
It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.
When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    
He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.
You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 
“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.
He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”
You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”
“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”
His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.
Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.
“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.
He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 
You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 
He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  
“I love you,” you tell him quietly.
His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 
“I love you too, baby. So much.”
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🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague
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with-my-calamitous-love · 2 days ago
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burnt toast, sunday / i wanna teach you how forever feels
katsuki bakugou x reader
the morning after a fight with katsuki. for the yail series ❄️
inspired by all of the girls you loved before
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bakugou sat up, groaning a bit as his back ached. he looks around, hit with his surroundings. he slept on the couch, in the midst of the living room torn apart from arguing.
he knew you were probably still pissed at him. worst of all, he couldn't even fully recall why you two had been arguing the night before. he only remembered that it was really, really bad, and you had ended up locking him out of the bedroom. just the thought of not sleeping next to you hurt blonde’s chest.
he lets out a sigh as he got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. when he sits up, he sees you walk in.
he cringes slightly, seeing your puffy red eyes. you had been crying all night, probably.
“…hey.” you say, softly.
he grunts in response, his words unable to reach his throat.
its a sunday, a quiet morning to contrast a loud, abrasive saturday night. the two of you resolve to make coffee silently, only speaking when you need a spoon he’s standing next to or when he needs you to move so he can grab the sugar.
the silence felt incredibly awkward. the two of you just stood there, quietly making your own cups of coffee. the only noise in the room was the sound of the coffeemaker brewing. bakugou’s thoughts were a mess. he couldn’t believe the two of you had gotten in such a big fight, and he wasn't even entirely sure why it happened. but he knew he was probably at fault, he was the one with the explosive personality after all.
he curses at himself quietly when he realizes he grabbed two pieces of bread. he does that normally- one for you, and one for him. but right now, you’re pissed at each other. he’s a little worried that making two pieces of toast will be seen as a violent act of aggression.
he moves to grab plates, too absent minded to notice that the toast is now burning. you take it out for him. thats when he noticed you’re still wearing his shirt, even though you’re mad.
he picks up his phone and scrolls, trying to distract himself. thats when he remembers what the fight was about.
whoever it was that got ahold of katsuki bakugou’s dating history was really obsessed or really, really bored, maybe both. for whatever reason, his fans were now talking about all his previous partners, the good and the bad. and, because you’re dating a celebrity, they just have to question your worthiness to be dating the handsome and strong dynamight.
he feels his anger flare up as he doom-scrolls some more. it pisses him off, thinking about how people would so mindlessly say things. it pisses him off more that its getting to you. don’t you know that he loves you?
he has yet to do anything about it, to address his dating life and who he’s with now. truthfully, katsuki doesn’t feel like he should have to. his pr team already works overtime for his asshole-self, anyway.
he’s so distracted by his own thoughts, he fails to notice the way his elbow knocks over your mug, sending it shattering on the floor. maybe its the silence, but you honestly jump a little when it happens.
both you simply stand there at first, blinking. did he do that on purpose? no, he wouldn’t break his own mugs.
maybe he just wanted your attention.
nonetheless, you wave it off with a soft “its okay” before kneeling down and carefully cleaning up the shards. he’s silent as he gets down in front of you, helping you clean the mess he made.
he wants to tell you its okay, and that he’ll take care of it. he wants to tell you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. but this is the closest he’s physically been to you since the argument, and he wants to relish in it for a moment.
“are you still mad at me?”
he almost flinches when he hears your meek voice. why would he be mad at you?
“..what are you talking about, babe?” he sighs, his voice gruff.
he is mad, but not at you. mostly at himself for not seeing how the recent speculations about him had been bothering you.
“i don’t wanna repeat myself. i just… i don’t know. i know you don’t want me to care about what everyone else is saying, but, i do.” you admit, still on the floor in front of him. at this point, you’ve both forgotten about the coffee and the shards.
he can see how upset you are, and it makes his chest tighten. “yeah, well… i don’t want those shitty extras getting to you. even if what they’re saying is the farthest thing from the damn truth.”
he so desperately wants you to know that he loves you. that when he’s with you, he doesn’t think of all the times he woke up to someone else, feeling alone. he doesn’t think of late night arguments that left him feel empty. when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of everything he wants to protect.
but you don’t see that as clearly as he does. “i guess i just… wonder if you agree with them. you never say anything to address those rumours, about your exes. and its not your fault, i get you don’t want to get involved, but, still…”
bakugou’s heart twinges as you bring up those accusations. he hates that you wonder such things, that you wonder if he agrees with those rumours or not. he wants to reassure you that you are the one he loves, the only one he loves. but he knows you wouldn't believe him right now, especially since he's been acting so shitty towards you lately.
“damn it, dumbass, i just want you to know that i love you. not any of those other bitches.”
“i don’t like when you call them that, katsuki.” you correct him. he nods, though both of you should be used to his sailor tongue by now.
“they’re people you’ve loved before… and thats okay. sometimes i just wonder if you love me more. i know its stupid.” you sigh.
he finally gets the courage to hold your hand, his calluses gentle against your skin. “..i feel i shouldn’t have to say it, i guess. in my head, you’re the only damn person in the world who matters.”
“maybe i’m just insecure.” you chuckle, self deprecatingly. you’re both tired of the arguing, now. “you’re #1, you’re gorgeous… and i’m me.”
he looks at you like you’re a complete idiot for that.
he hated hearing you say those things about yourself like it was a bad thing, that you were just you.
“just you? you really think it’s a bad thing to be you, dumbass?”
he pulls you in tighter, wanting you to really hear what he says.
“you’re amazing, you're incredible. there’s no one else I want to be with. I don't want anyone else, just you. you’re way too good for me, [y/n], in more ways i can count.”
“…you really mean that?”
he scoffs, a beautiful smile on his face. “yeah, i mean it. i love you.”
you give him that smile he loves, the one that made him fall so deeply in love with you all those years ago. “thats all you had to say, kats.”
your past and his are parallel lines. he isn’t sure how he got so lucky. how, by some cosmic miracle, the starts aligned so he could intertwine with you. you’re all he needs.
he hugs you deep, burying his face into your neck. he loves how you smell, how smooth your skin is. theres bot much proof, but he sees enough in you. he feels enough when he holds you, his entire world in his arms.
“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly for only you to hear. “you’re everything to me. i’m in love with you.”
your heart swells, ignoring the burnt toast and spilled coffee. you’re wearing his shirt, and he’s keeping his word. thats enough to make you melt, hugging him back, arms thrown around his muscular back. “i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have doubted you. i love you too.”
he pulls back slightly to kiss you, making sure you’re in front of him and that this is real. for once, he let’s go of all of his fears and his ghosts. you’re his best friend, the love of his life and every beautiful thing he loves. he hears it in the silence, on his way home, and in your voice.
“if anything, i think i’m grateful for everyone you’ve loved before.” you chuckle, face close to his. his blonde eyebrows knit in confusion. “what do you mean, babe?”
“because the people you love make who you are, even if you’ve only loved them for a moment.” you say, squeezing his hand. “all those dead-end streets led you to me.”
he pauses, strange look on his face when he realizes you’re right. all that fake love, the teenage heartbreak and pains he’s been through- it’s made him the man you love. all those breakups, those unsaid goodbyes, they’ve led him hear.
he huffs, and then smiles, pressing his forehead to yours.
“i wouldn’t change a damn thing, then.” he says. “it all led me to you, dumbass.”
you stroke his cheek affectionately, pressing a kiss to his temple. his eyes close when you do that, relaxing into your touch. everyone that he knew brought him hear. and now, he gets to know what forever feels like.
“and in the end, it doesn’t matter who loved you before.” you conclude. “cause i love you more.”
he almost laughs at how cliché it is, resigning to press kisses all over your face. “i love you more, i’m not arguing on that.” he says, holding you in his lap. he’s tough, and explosive, and “too good for all that clingy couple bullshit”. at least, thats what he lets the world believe.
you’re his, and he’s yours. he’s so god damn thankful for everyone you’ve loved before. ‘cause now he gets to love you 10x more.
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gojoacedia · 2 days ago
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Vi has severe attachment issues, meaning it took you a long time to break the walls surrounding her heart down to get to the point you are at with her now. And boy was it obvious how attached she was.
-She would get nervous if you left for even a few seconds. She would always go grocery shopping with you, workout with you (even though your workouts were half of what she did), sit on the counter while you did your makeup, and even sit on the floor of the bathroom if you were taking too long in the shower.
-If you managed to escape her arms in the middle of the night she would panic in her sleep and grab you back as fast as possible. You couldn’t be an inch away from her.
-She looks at you like you’re insane if you do anything nice for her. She could be standing behind you and kissing your neck the whole time you were cooking and still not realize you were making food for her. When you do serve her a plate she tells you to eat it. “You need to eat too! I can’t eat this if you don’t have anything!” She would complain. “Vi, honey, I have my own plate. I made enough for two.” You would reply, rolling your eyes at how she never considered you making two portions.
-Every day when you come home from work or school she greets you at the door like a dog who hasn’t seen their human for weeks. She would bury her face in your neck, smelling your hair like it was a drug. You would drop all of your bags (some of which had gifts for her) and hug her back. “What’s up with you today? I was gone for 30 more minutes and you're acting like it’s been years,” you laughed, grabbing her face in your hands and giving her a long kiss. She would just roll her eyes and tell you to shut up, never wanting to admit how much you affect her.
-When you have sex she will always force you to make eye contact. She didn’t want you thinking about anything other than the way she made you feel. If you ever threw your head back in pleasure she would immediately stop and grab your chin, forcing you to look back down at her. “Eyes on me, princess, or you don’t get to cum,” she would say. She couldn’t help herself from getting exponentially more wet when you whimpered in protest, following her orders anyway.
-After you came (and after she came if she was in the mood) she would carry you to the shower, giving you butterflies every time she picked you up like you weighed nothing. She would make you pee before you went in the shower so you didn’t get a yeast infection, knowing your body better than your other partners ever did.
-She had absolutely no shame when it came to the nastiest aspects of your life. She could never see you as anything other than a goddess. Even if you were sick and snotting your brains out into an entire box of tissues. Even if you were on your period, disgusted at whatever left your body that week. You could have pink eye and she would gently wash away all the eye crusts with a warm washcloth. Nothing could phase her when it came to you.
-You eventually needed to have a serious talk with her about how she treated you. She would burn the whole world down for you and then get mad if you traveled to her favorite restaurant in the underground to get take-out slugs. You needed her to know you were also allowed to be attached.
-Going off of that, if you ever needed to have a conversation about boundaries you had a rule that you had to say 5 nice things about her for every complaint. You knew she didn’t take criticism well due to her past, so you made her feel like royalty before trying to have any serious conversation with her. She noticed this, of course, and it only made her love you more. Her impatience mixed with your patience was a match made in heaven.
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astralis-ortus · 3 days ago
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spoiled
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— it really is in the little things he does.
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w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist
growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.
well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.
well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…
with some minor adjustments.
"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"
you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.
it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.
"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."
"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"
the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.
"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."
it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.
chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.
"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."
"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,
"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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userautumn · 2 days ago
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He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.
Jee misses you.
He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.
What did she say?
"Uncle Tommy come play?"
Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.
I'm sorry.
Sorry to her or sorry to me?
It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.
Sorry to both of you.
Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.
If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.
Never mind.
This was dumb.
I shouldn't have bothered.
Sorry to have bothered you.
Bye.
Goodbye, Evan.
Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.
Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.
Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.
I'm not going to lie to her.
Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.
Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.
He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.
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mononijikayu · 1 day ago
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and there was something 'bout you (that now I can't remember) — fushiguro megumi.
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Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.” "My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto. The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow. It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern no curses au;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, fluff, aged up characters, brief one sided romance, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, future, letting go, break up, getting back together, depiction of character death, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of illness, mention of illness, mention of loneliness;
WORD COUNT: 21k words
NOTE: when i sent this to my beta reader last night, it was like 17k words. it ended with 5k more words than it needed to be. but with how i write, i just end up being the most unpredictable person. even to myself. i wanted to write about megumi cause i missed him. i hope yall guys understand. anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot!!! i'll see you soon on the next one!!! i love you all <3
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MEETING YOU FELT LIKE DESTINY. And he would not have it any other way. If one was being honest, you were the only other constant in Fushiguro Megumi’s life – besides his sister Tsumiki and Gojo Satoru. But that was to be expected. He trusted no one.
He likes to think he was a tough crowd, that he wasn’t easy to please. But Megumi expected that. After all, what child wouldn’t have that issue, when his dad left him and his sister to fend for themselves at such a young age? He was bound to have mistrust for everyone and anyone who can’t prove themselves. 
He hadn’t expected to make a friend, not really. If he was being honest, talking to people wasn’t something he excelled at, and reading others’ expressions felt like a puzzle he was never meant to solve.
He was and always will be someone who had a hard time with people. But then there was you, full of unexpected warmth, approaching him on the playground, holding out your prized Charizard card in exchange for his Jigglypuff. You seemed to be the exception. 
“Hey, you!” You pointed at him like he was a riddle you had just solved. Megumi blinked, glancing around to make sure you weren’t talking to someone else.
“Yes?” He answered, the single word sounding more like a question.
You marched up to him, unbothered by the silence that followed. “I’ll trade you my Charizard for your Jigglypuff.”
Megumi’s brows knit together in disbelief. He stared down at the holographic card you offered, one that every kid in school would beg to have, and then at the tiny, pink Jigglypuff in his hands that no one ever wanted.
“Why?” he asked, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Charizard is powerful. Why do you want this weak card?”
“Because it’s cute! And I love cute things! Well…everything cute, really!” you said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 
Your smile was bright, eyes crinkling as if you were laughing at a secret only you knew. When he slowly handed over the Jigglypuff card, your face lit up with such joy that it made Megumi feel like he had done something incredible. You hugged the card to your chest and then looked at him with a grin. 
“Thank you for trading with me! Do you wanna be friends?”
Fushiguro Megumi stared at you for a good few seconds, stunned by your straightforwardness. You were smiling all throughout that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. And he could feel it, even then.
You pulled him so close to you with your magnetic pull. He spun around you almost immediately, like the moon embracing the earth. But before he could answer, you added with a playful tilt of your head. 
“I’ll even let you win in tag! And…and I can share my candies! My mommy gave me a lot to share!”
A small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t notice it himself at first. But he likes to think that he only remembered how he smiled years later, when you pointed out to him. Yet all he could focus on is how you smiled at him. How you were so happy, waiting for his answer to your invitation. 
“You’re on.” he said, his voice soft but resolute.
That continued on as you both found yourself living in bodies that grew older and minds that grew wiser. Years passed and yet you had only gotten closer to one another. Both of you were now in middle school, and almost everyday since then — you had always been together.
Fushiguro Megumi could not remember a day where you both were ever even apart. Just one smile and he was hooked. His morning, his noon and night would be consumed by you. And he rinses and repeats. 
The playground turned into hallways and classrooms, and those silly childhood games were replaced with quiet study sessions and whispered jokes. But the feeling you gave him never changed.
He still felt like he was holding something rare and precious whenever you smiled at him like that. Everything about your smile was the most precious warmth he could ever feel, that he admits.
One evening, as you both sat under the orange sky, your laughter from an earlier joke fading into content silence, you turned to him, resting your chin on your knee. “Hey, Megumi?”
He glanced over, meeting your eyes that were as warm as ever. “Yeah?”
“Do you ever think about how lucky we are to have met?” you said, your voice light but sincere.
Megumi looked down at his hands for a moment, feeling the weight of your question. “Yeah.” he replied, his voice low. Then, looking back at you with a rare, soft smile, he added, “More than you know.”
You blinked in surprise, cheeks turning pink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Megumi shrugged, eyes glinting with a teasing challenge. “Figure it out, you dummy.”
As your laughter rang out, he knew, in that moment, that he was irrevocably in love with you. He always had been, and he always would be.
Your laughter bubbled into the quiet evening air, filling the space around you both with a warmth that wrapped itself around Megumi like a familiar embrace. You playfully nudged his shoulder, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 
“Oh, so now you’re mysterious, huh? Fushiguro Megumi, you’re supposed to be the serious one!”
Megumi huffed a soft chuckle, a rare sound that made your heart skip. “Maybe I’ve been keeping secrets all this time, you know?” he said, his tone light, though there was a weight behind it that he didn’t dare show.
Your eyebrows rose as you leaned in, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Secrets? Like what?” You poked his arm playfully, eyes alight with mischief. “Spill it, or I’ll never let you live it down.”
He met your gaze for a moment, searching your face, the sunset casting warm shadows across your features. The thought of confessing everything—how many nights he’d spent thinking about you, worrying about you, loving you, it all made everything tighten in his chest. But he pushed it back down, letting the familiar wall settle back into place.
“There are some secrets that are better left unsaid, you dummy.” he said, his voice steady but distant.
You pouted, crossing your arms with a huff. “You always do that. You’re always hiding things from me, Megumi. You know you can trust me, right?”
His eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I know, I know.” he said, pausing before adding. “But you shouldn’t hide things from me either. Like when your boyfriend stands you up.”
The playful expression fell from your face, replaced by surprise. You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. “How did you—”
“I just know.” he interrupted, looking away, his jaw tightening as he bit back the frustration that had been building inside him for weeks.
He hated the way you always made excuses for people who didn’t deserve you. He hated even more that you loved the wrong ones. You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you gave a small shrug.
“He’s busy, you know he’s on the baseball team.” you said, though your voice was thin, even to your own ears.
Megumi clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to argue, to tell you that being “busy” wasn’t a good enough reason. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, didn’t want to see you upset. So, he said nothing.
Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.”
"My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto.
The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow.
It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.
The air between you was heavy, charged with words unsaid and emotions kept at bay. Megumi felt his fingers twitch again, that familiar pull to reach for you, to close the space that always felt like miles, even when it was only inches.
You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitting in concern as you noticed the silence. “Megumi, are you okay?” 
Your voice was soft, searching, the way it always was when you sensed something under the surface. He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
“Thinking? Now that’s dangerous!” you joked, nudging him lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. It was an attempt to bring back the lightness, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, a sound that surprised even him.
“I guess I can’t argue with that.” he replied, his voice low, but there was warmth in it, the kind reserved only for you.
You tilted your head, studying him like he was one of your favorite puzzles to solve. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’m here, right? You don’t have to keep things to yourself.”
The sincerity in your eyes, in the way you said those words, nearly broke him. He swallowed hard, willing the emotions to stay under control. I know, he wanted to say. And that’s why this hurts so much.
“I know.” he said instead, and it was all he could manage. The truth weighed heavy on his tongue, but he bit it back, holding on to this moment instead; the warmth of your presence, the sound of your laughter lingering in the air.
For now, this was enough. He would live in the warmth of your voice calling his name, over and over, in this moment that felt like forever.
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HE ALREADY EXPECTED FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. Fushiguro Megumi came as soon as he got your call. How could he not show up? He had to. You needed him. More than ever, especially now. The moment he heard your shaky voice, his heart clenched with worry and anger. He had to get to you. He had to put his anger aside.
But he can't help it. He'd never liked him. That jerk of an ex-boyfriend of yours. And now all he could think is, how dare he break your heart? He was unworthy from the beginning and now he thinks he gets the right to you miserable?
His mind raced, weaving through every memory of seeing you smile, laugh, and light up at the smallest things, now replaced by the image of you in pain. Even that thought makes him even more angrier. He hated it. More than anything, more than you jerk of an ex-boyfriend.
Megumi felt like he was going to lose it. He always loses it when it comes to you. Everything about you was something that he felt like he had to cherish and treasure. And so, he bears everything about you, happiness or joy, as a part of him.
Because he loved you. More than anyone else in the world, he liked to believe. His love wasn’t flashy or loud; it was quiet, deep, and constant, like an unspoken promise woven through the moments you shared. 
And yet, people claimed to love you and then hurt you without a second thought. The unfairness of it all made his love even stronger, more resolute. It was a love that stayed in the silent spaces between words, in the way he noticed when you were tired, or remembered how you took your tea, or lingered on your laugh long after you’d left.
But saying it out loud? That was different. He didn’t think he could do that—not now, when you were hurting. Now, when the shattered pieces of your heart weren’t his to fix, but his to hold steady until you could piece them back together.
The rain came down harder as he found you, sitting alone on the cold, wet bench, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your hair was plastered to your face, water streaming down your cheeks, indistinguishable from your tears. You looked up when he called your name, and the raw anguish in your eyes made his breath hitch.
Everything was soaking through his jacket as he searched the park.  But he could care less. Not when he stood here, watching you continue to sit on the bench under the dim glow of a streetlight, your knees pulled to your chest and your shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The sight made something twist in his chest so fiercely it hurt.
“Hey.” he called softly as he approached, his voice steady but urgent. You didn’t look up, too lost in your world of hurt, raindrops mingling with the tears that fell freely down your cheeks.
“Megumi…….” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the pounding rain.
He dropped down in front of you without hesitation, his jeans soaking through as he knelt in the puddles. “Hey.” he whispered, reaching out to push a wet strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, deliberate, as if afraid you’d break. 
“Are you alright?” The question was hollow, a placeholder for everything he couldn’t put into words.
A humorless laugh escaped your lips, bitter and fragile. “No. Not even close.”
Megumi’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say so much—that you deserved better, that he would give you the world if you let him, that he’d never let anyone hurt you if he could help it. But all he could do was cup your face in his hands, fingers warm against your chilled skin. 
“I’m here, okay?” he said, the words weighted with every unsaid promise. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes filling with fresh tears as you looked at him. His eyes, dark and fierce, were fixed on you with such intensity it made your chest ache in a different way, something softer, more hopeful. For a moment, the world around you blurred, the rain and cold forgotten in the heat of his gaze.
A fresh wave of tears welled up, but this time they weren’t just from pain. They were from the sheer relief of having him here, solid and real, when everything else felt like it was crumbling. He hated seeing you fall apart like this. He hated seeing you in so much grief about things you didn’t even need to grieve. 
“I can’t believe he—” You started, voice cracking, but Megumi cut you off with a shake of his head.
“No, no.” he said firmly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a fierce protectiveness. “You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve someone who would never make you feel this way.”
A shiver ran down your spine, part from the cold and part from the warmth in his voice. The rain dripped from his hair, tiny rivulets running down his face, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. He just stayed there, eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing that mattered.
Slowly, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, clinging tightly as if he was the last piece keeping you together. He pulled you close, the rain forgotten as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Always.”
“Why can’t everyone be like you, Megumi?” you whispered, the question hanging between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say.
He closed his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against his ribcage, aching to be let out. But he simply pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. 
“Maybe someday, I’m certain about it all.” he whispered. “You’ll see that some people are.”
In that moment, as he held you close under the downpour, Megumi vowed that even if he never said it out loud, you would always know it in the way he stayed. And as the storm raged on around you, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer.
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IF YOU WERE BEING HONEST, LIFE WAS GOOD NOW. And it was because you had Fushiguro Megumi. Around Megumi, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer. His presence anchored you, solid and reassuring, as if the world could rage on around you, but you’d be alright as long as he was there. 
The days that followed that stormy night were different. Your shared moments became longer, and your conversations deepened. You found yourself opening up to him in a way you hadn’t with anyone else, and he listened, offering small, thoughtful words that seemed to echo in your mind long after he said them.
Megumi and you became closer, like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their fit. You leaned on him more, seeking the comfort of his steady, unwavering support. Whether it was the simple act of sharing a quiet study session or walking side by side down the crowded school halls, you started to feel his presence as a constant, a pillar in your life. And with each passing moment, Megumi found himself falling deeper.
It was in the little things—the way your laughter returned, hesitant at first, then full and bright whenever he made a rare, dry joke. You’d throw your head back, eyes crinkled with genuine joy, and he’d pretend to be focused on something else just so he could hide his smile.
“You’re not even funny, you know that?” you teased one afternoon, nudging him with your shoulder as you both walked through the park, the sun filtering through the leaves.
“Oh? I didn’t know you laughed at unfunny things.” he replied, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “I guess I make exceptions.”
It was also in the way your hand would find him during the quiet moments—when you both sat on the school steps, waiting for the last of the rain to clear, or when you talked late at night under a sky full of stars.
Your touch was unconscious, as if you didn’t realize the effect it had on him, but each time it sent warmth radiating through his chest, melting the layers of doubt he wore like armor.
One evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of pink and orange, you sat together on the small bench in your favorite park. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. You turned to him, your eyes soft and thoughtful. 
“Do you ever wonder why some people come into your life at the exact moment you need them?”
He met your gaze, the question settling between you. His heart thudded, a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah.” he said, his voice steady but quiet. “I think about it a lot.”
You tilted your head, studying him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. “I’m glad you’re in mine, Megumi.”
The simple statement was enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him. He looked away, the hint of pink dusting his cheeks, and muttered, “Me too.”
Moments like these made him realize just how deeply he’d fallen for you. Fushiguro Tsumiki had caught on, of course. She knew Megumi best in the world. She’d grin knowingly whenever he brought up your name, and she wasn’t subtle about giving him nudges when you came over. Megumi thinks he would have no peace at home knowing all that.
“You need to tell them, your feelings.” she’d say with a pointed look. “They deserve to know.”
Gojo Satoru, in his typical flamboyant manner, took every opportunity to pester him. “If you don’t say something soon, I swear I’m going to set up a banner. ‘Confess, Megumi!’ at your school. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even use sparkles!” he’d joke, bright blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
Megumi would glare, a mix of irritation and anxiety bubbling inside him. But when he was alone, his mind would wander to the what-ifs. What if he told you, and everything changed? What if the easy moments between you became strained? He couldn’t stand the thought of losing this version of you, where your laughter was shared and your touch was easy.
One evening, when you were leaving after spending the day together, you turned back at the door, eyes bright. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked.
He nodded, feeling that familiar warmth bloom in his chest. “Yeah, same time.”
You beamed at him, that smile—the one that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. And as you walked away, Megumi felt the pull to call out, to say something, anything.
But the fear gripped him, held him back. For now, he’d stay in the safety of what you had, even as his heart whispered that someday soon, he’d need to be brave enough to reach for more.
And more and more, his sister and Gojo were starting to notice how he’s falling for you. Tsumiki noticed the way he watched you when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes softened when you spoke. 
After dinner tonight, she caught him staring at his phone after reading a text from you, a small, knowing smile spread across her face. Megumi wasn’t even sure that he was that obvious. But he was.
Everyone was aware, more than he would have liked. It was his private life and yet, it was his own fault how it seeped in the real world. Yet, it was like that when it came to you. He can’t help it. 
“Megumi.” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “it’s high time you tell them how you feel.”
He looked up, startled. “What? No. It’s not… I mean—” He fumbled, cheeks turning red as he struggled to find an excuse.
Satoru, who had been lounging nearby and catching every word, let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Megumi knew that Gojo Satoru was going to annoy him about this. Tsumiki is one thing. But that was his elder sister.
He was bound to just let her get into his life. But it was different when it came to their guardian. He was more of an annoying adult to Megumi. And he didn’t like how he touched his life like that. Even if he knew it was care.
“Kid, if you don’t confess, I’m going to make a banner and announce it to the entire school I teach at, when you visit.” he teased, eyes gleaming mischievously. “It’s so painfully obvious. Even the kids at the school picked up on that fact! Do you know how obvious you have to be that kid Todo picked up on?”
Megumi glared at him, but his usual annoyance didn’t stick. Instead, a flicker of anxiety gnawed at him, deep and stubborn. He knew Tsumiki and Gojo were right. He’d heard the whispers of his own heart long enough; he knew he was in love with you. But the idea of confessing it out loud? Of risking everything he already had with you? It paralyzed him.
“What if… what if it ruins things?” he muttered, looking down at his hands. The idea of you looking at him differently, of you stepping back, distancing yourself—it was unbearable. “What if they don’t feel the same? I don’t want to lose what we have now.”
Tsumiki’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Megumi, you’ll never know unless you try. And if they care about you even half as much as I think they do, nothing will change.”
Satoru chimed in with a rare moment of seriousness. “Megumi, you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. You’ve faced the worst of the world already with Tsumiki. But this? This is one small leap compared to that.”
The words made sense, but fear wrapped around his chest like a vise. Every time he opened his mouth to tell you, doubt clawed its way in. He could picture the worst: your kind eyes turning sad, the warmth between you cooling into awkward silence.
But as days passed and your laughter echoed in his ears, each missed opportunity stung. Every time you looked at him with that bright smile, it chipped away at his fear, replacing it with a longing stronger than any curse he’d faced. And Megumi knew, deep down, that he couldn’t put it off forever.
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IT WAS A RARE DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL. So, it was easy for you to come and call Megumi to hang out. Megumi was someone who had a hard time going with the flow of things. He liked order in his life. But when he is with you, everything is unpredictable.
Everything was a surprise. And so he enjoyed it. He enjoyed letting you wreck his life into things he couldn’t predict. Chaos is livable when he was next to you. And perhaps, you knew that more than he did.  
And today’s request was to go to a skate park. You didn’t know how to skate, nor do you have the balance that allowed you to do so. But you saw an ad for it and you thought that trying was something that would be enjoyable for the two of you. So, Megumi sighed. But he nodded and immediately walked as you practically hopped to the booth where they rented out their skates.
The skate park was buzzing with life when you and Megumi arrived, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. Laughter and the sound of wheels on concrete filled the air as you glanced nervously at the smooth expanse of the park. Megumi noticed your hesitation and smirked, handing you a helmet.
“Don’t worry, okay?” he said, voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll be here the whole time. Just hold on if you need to.”
You nodded, cheeks warming at the idea. The two of you stepped onto the rink, and you immediately reached out, grabbing his arm for balance. He tensed slightly at the contact but relaxed when he saw the nervous smile on your face.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.
“Ready.” you replied, even though your heart was thumping wildly in your chest.
The first few minutes were shaky. You wobbled and stumbled, and every time you did, Megumi’s arm was there, strong and steady. His hand eventually found its way to yours, fingers intertwining as he guided you along, step by careful step.
The warmth of his touch sent a pleasant jolt up your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing how focused he looked, his hair slightly messy from the helmet. You could feel yourself looking at him for a while and then becoming flustered when he looks back at you.
“You’re doing great.” he said, a rare smile appearing as you both glided a little more smoothly across the rink.
“Thanks to you!” you laughed breathlessly, holding on tightly when you hit a slight dip.
He steadied you immediately, the closeness making your heart stutter. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, dark and intense under the rink’s twinkling lights, and you felt a rush of something that made your stomach flutter.
As the sky darkened into twilight, the skate park began to empty, and an announcement boomed over the loudspeakers. “The park will be closing in fifteen minutes.”
You sighed, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. “I guess that’s it for tonight, huh?” you said, a wistful note in your voice.
Megumi nodded and helped you off the rink, his hand lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. You sat on a nearby bench, taking off your helmets and catching your breath. The sounds around you faded as you felt the cool evening air settle around you both.
“You know…..” Megumi started, his tone unusually hesitant. He looked at you, eyes searching yours as if gathering the courage to speak. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, teaching you how to skate. But I’m glad we did it.”
You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
He exhaled, a subtle tremor in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Because… being this close to you makes it hard to keep things to myself.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and your brows knit together slightly. “Megumi?”
He looked away, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I think—I know that I’m in love with you.”
The confession hung in the air, suspended between you as the world seemed to stand still. He winced, realizing what he’d just said, and moved to apologize, but your soft gasp interrupted him.
“You… you’re in love with me?” you repeated, eyes wide and cheeks turning rosy.
His breath caught, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know it’s sudden, and I don’t want things to change if you don’t feel the same. But I couldn’t keep pretending that I don’t—”
Before he could finish, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes glistening. “I do. I feel the same way, Megumi.” you whispered, a smile breaking through as his eyes widened.
The tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and warmth. He let out a breathy chuckle, the sound rare and real. “You do?” he asked, almost as if needing to hear it again.
You nodded, your fingers finding him and squeezing them tightly. “Yes, I do.”
The skate park around you was closing, but neither of you noticed. For now, the world shrank to just the two of you, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights and the lingering thrill of confessions finally shared.
Megumi's surprise softened into a smile, rare and full of something warm and unguarded. He still held your hands, fingers intertwined as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world around you blurring into a comforting haze.
The distant sounds of closing gates and murmurs of the last stragglers leaving the park faded away, leaving only the two of you under the soft, golden streetlights. Yet that all faded to the background. All you could do was focus on the warmth in Megumi's beautiful blue-green orbs. All you could think about was how the world felt brighter when he was by your side.
“Say it again, please.” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if part of him still couldn’t believe it.
You laughed, the sound light and full of joy as you leaned in a little closer. “I love you, Megumi. For a while now. I love you then and now.” you said, your eyes searching his face to catch every flicker of emotion. 
The way his lips parted slightly, the way his eyes softened as if he could melt under those words. Everything about it had made your heart flutter even more. You like to think he was just good at that. He swallowed, unable to suppress the smile that stretched across his face. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” he admitted, his voice rough but sincere.
“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted to say it.” you teased, nudging him playfully. He chuckled, the sound deep and unfamiliar even to him, and you couldn’t help but notice how it made him look so much more at ease. “I’m sorry if I took a long while.”
The cool breeze picked up, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees, and you shivered involuntarily. Without thinking, Megumi slipped out of his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, his hands lingering at the collar to pull it snug. The fabric smelled like him; fresh and warm, with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place but that was uniquely Megumi.
“Thank you.” you said, your voice soft. Your eyes met his, and the look you exchanged was filled with so many unsaid words, promises and relief, all bundled together in a way that made your chest ache in the best way.
He glanced down, a subtle blush creeping up his neck. “We should probably get going before they lock us in.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.
You nodded, but neither of you made a move to stand just yet. You both sat in that quiet moment for a little longer, soaking in the newness of what had just unfolded. Finally, Megumi stood up and offered you his hand, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulled you to your feet.
“Let’s get you home.” he said, the weight of the evening settling comfortably between you as you walked away from the now-closed skate park, your hands still intertwined.
As you strolled through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the city wrapping around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was a contentment in his expression, a relaxed curve to his mouth that spoke of unguarded happiness.
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, nudging him lightly.
He glanced at you, eyes soft under the glow of the streetlights. “How I’m going to make sure I never keep something like that from you again.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you smiled, leaning against him as you walked. “Good.” you said. “Because I plan on telling you every day.”
And as the two of you continued on into the night, the air between you felt different—not just safe, but full of new possibilities, laughter, and love that was finally yours to share.
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EVERYTHING HAPPENS AND CHANGES ALL THE TIME. You and Megumi were the happiest you’d ever been for a long time. Moving into the city had felt like an unspoken promise, a step forward toward a shared future.
A bright beautiful future that had once been only whispers in the quiet of your conversations. Together, you carved out a life in the heart of the bustling city, with its endless hum of activity and its ever-changing face. 
You found an apartment that felt like it belonged to both of you. The floors creaked underfoot, their sound a reminder of the stories they held, the small, quiet moments of shared joy and unspoken understanding.
Big windows let the sunlight pour in during the mornings, catching the dust in beams of gold as you sat side by side with your coffee. The place was imperfect, but in that imperfection, it was beautiful, just like your life together.
Your days were spent in a rhythm that had once been in sync, the sounds of laughter and comfortable silence filling the air. You’d talk about everything and nothing at all. Sometimes, it was about the art you were working on, the colors you’d used, or the gallery you were preparing for. 
Other times, it was about his latest case, his eyes alight with the thrill of a challenge. You would stay up late, your feet tangled together under the blanket as you exchanged stories of the day, dreams for the future, and the occasional silly moment of laughter.
But, as the years passed, everything started to shift, imperceptible at first, like the gradual turning of the pages in a book you thought you knew so well. The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now became the thing that kept you apart. 
The rhythm of your lives grew more erratic. Megumi, with his sharp mind and steady resolve, excelled in the high-stakes world of law. His career took off with rather good ease, and he quickly found himself buried in cases, depositions, meetings, and late-night strategizing. He became the star of the law firm he worked for. Everything was great for him. 
You could see it in the crease of his brow, the way he stayed up into the early hours of the morning to prepare for court, his suit always a little wrinkled, his tie always a little loose, but his focus razor-sharp.
His world was all deadlines, high-profile clients, and courtroom battles that never seemed to stop. He thrived in it; he was good at it, brilliant even—but it took him away from you, slowly but surely.
You, too, threw yourself into your work, determined to build something of your own, to carve out your place in a world that sometimes felt like it was moving too fast for you. Your art became your refuge, the studio your sanctuary.
The city, with its mix of people, cultures, and experiences, was your muse. You found inspiration in the chaos and the beauty that wove through every street, every corner, every passerby. 
But the more you painted, the more you found yourself lost in the solitude of it all. Late nights in galleries preparing for shows or days in the studio felt like your only real connection to the world.
Your mind was constantly racing with ideas, concepts, colors that needed to be captured before they slipped away. Your hands, once so used to holding his, now spent more time wrapped around a paintbrush than around his.
And so, the distance between you grew. The gap that once felt small, just a quiet space between moments, now felt insurmountable. You would come home to an empty apartment, the silence of it pressing in on you. Megumi would still be at the office, still lost in the whirlwind of his cases, his phone buzzing with messages that had to be answered immediately. 
You’d sit at the table, dinner half-eaten, waiting for him to walk through the door, but he rarely came home before midnight. When he did, he’d be tired, exhausted, really and you’d try your best to carry the conversation, but the words never came as easily as they once had. 
He’d ask about your day, but his eyes would already be half-closed, his attention already elsewhere. You’d tell him about the gallery event or the new piece you were working on, but his responses would be short, distracted. Everything else besides his work became second. Everything else started to fade away into the background. Even you.
The moments that once felt so natural disappeared into the fog. You had always, the both of you, understood each other without speaking. But soon enough, everything began to feel strained, stretched thin under the weight of your respective worlds. You’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing beside you, as he focused on reading case files on bed. Every night was like this. 
It felt like he was a million miles away. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t feel him. It was like he wasn’t there. And that broke your heart over and over. Because all you wanted was him. Yet you couldn’t even have that. You couldn’t even have a moment. You couldn’t win. Not against fate itself.
There was no more laughter, no more stolen moments of joy in the middle of a busy day. It was as if the world around you was moving faster than you could keep up with, and you and Megumi were just trying to hold on to what little of each other remained.
The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now felt like a vast, indifferent landscape, a place where the two of you had become lost. And no matter how hard you tried to cling to the life you’d built, the distance between you was undeniable. It became this seesaw game. Both of you are waiting for someone to step out of it. 
The silence grew, and the cracks started to form. Megumi, buried in his work, became more distant, his tired eyes unable to meet yours for longer than a few moments.
And you lost in the world of your art, your mind constantly in motion could just feel like it began to feel as though you couldn’t do anything but chase. You were chasing something that would always stay just out of reach. You were chasing a ghost. 
In the stillness of those long, lonely nights, you began to wonder how it all had slipped away so quietly. You had promised each other that nothing would come between you that no matter how much life changed, you’d always have each other. But promises, like time, sometimes slip through your fingers, and before you knew it, you were both holding on to something that wasn’t there anymore.
And it hurt more than anything you’d ever known.
The times when your paths crossed grew fewer, and each time they did, it felt more like a fleeting moment you couldn’t quite hold on to. Mornings that once held the warmth of shared cups of coffee and quiet conversation were now replaced with hurried mornings. 
That quick abrupt hum of the alarm clock pulling you out of bed faster than you could stretch. You’d barely exchange more than a quick kiss goodbye as you rushed out the door, his briefcase already in hand, your mind already occupied with the tasks of the day ahead.
The breakfasts that had once been filled with laughter, with soft smiles and small talk about what lay ahead, had transformed into something mechanical. You’d grab your coffee, he’d grab his briefcase, and you’d both be off, each of you retreating into your own world before the day even began.
Evenings weren’t much better. The quiet, intimate moments you’d shared over dinner, the kind that had made your world feel so right, had all but disappeared. Now, there were nights when you would come home to find him already asleep on the couch, his suit still on, papers scattered around him like a battlefield. 
His face was soft with exhaustion, the tension in his body unmistakable even in sleep. His tie was loosened, his shirt wrinkled, but still, he’d sleep through it all, the weight of the day too heavy for him to shed. And he wouldn’t notice that look in your eyes. That sadness you couldn’t help but carry for this doomed relationship.
You’d watch him for a moment, your heart aching at the sight, but then you’d quietly tiptoe past him, too tired yourself to wake him. The faint sound of his breathing was the only noise in the apartment, and you’d retreat into your own solitude, thinking maybe tomorrow would be different.
Sometimes, you’d come home after a late gallery event, the city lights outside your window blurred in the reflection of the glass. You’d see the faint glow from his office, a soft halo of light against the shadows.
He wouldn’t even notice how your presence creaked the wooden doors open. He wouldn’t even budge at the sound of your keys clanking. Or your familiar footsteps merging with the mahogany ground. He wouldn’t notice a damn thing.
But you would notice everything about him. Fushiguro Megumi would still be sitting there, case files spread out on the desk, his eyes glazed from hours of staring at legal jargon that never seemed to make sense. You’d try to keep the frustration at bay, try to remind yourself that this was just temporary, that everything would settle soon. 
But every time you’d reach out your hand and you would ask.
“Do you want to take a break? Maybe we can grab dinner?” 
Sometimes you wish you didn't ask. 
Because his response would be the same.
“I can’t tonight. Too much work.”
And you’d nod, the words dying in your throat, as you retreated again, feeling the ache in your chest grow with every passing day. The apartment, once a place of warmth and shared moments, now felt cold and empty, no matter how many art pieces you filled it with. It was just you, and him, but you were worlds apart.
And then the fights started.
They were small at first—an offhand comment here, a sigh there, barely even loud enough to be called a fight. But they were enough. The tension built in the small spaces between words, in the way you’d avoid eye contact when you both spoke. You’d complain about him missing dinner again, how you’d waited hours for him to come home, only for him to slip quietly into bed without saying a word.
“I can’t be in two places at once, you know that.” he’d reply, his voice tight, a trace of guilt mixed with irritation in his words. “You knew what I was getting into when I started this job.”
And you knew, deep down, you had known. But that didn’t make it any easier. The dinners you’d missed together, the quiet evenings you spent alone, your frustrations, your loneliness. It all built up until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. You tried to be patient. But you know that patience always has an expiration date. And yours had started to tick, like a bomb just waiting for the right time waiting to explode.
Everything felt useless now. Everything was one blow away from cracking down. The things you used to say to each other, the things that had made you feel so close, now felt hollow and distant. The love that had once been so certain now felt strained, fragile, as though it might crumble at any moment.
One evening, after a particularly grueling week for both of you, you came home from a late gallery event to find Megumi at the dining table, his tie loosened and his hair disheveled, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than usual.
He had papers scattered everywhere, the remnants of his latest case still strewn across the table like debris from a battle he couldn’t quite win. He didn’t even look up when you entered, his focus entirely on the papers in front of him.
“Another late night?” he asked, not even looking up from the papers in front of him.
“Yeah.” you said shortly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “Like every other night.”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We never see each other anymore.”
“Whose fault is that?” you shot back before you could stop yourself. The room felt colder immediately, your own words stinging in the silence that followed.
“You know this is important, both our careers are.” he said, voice strained, but his tone didn’t soothe the growing ache in your chest.
“And what about us, Megumi? When did we stop being important?”
He looked up at you, eyes tired but holding that glimmer of hurt. “We are. We’re just… trying to keep up.”
“It doesn’t feel like we’re keeping up.” you whispered, eyes starting to sting with tears. “It feels like we’re falling apart.”
The silence that settled was heavy, pressing down on both of you. He stood up, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. “What do you want me to do? Stop working? This is what I have to do. You know that.”
“And this is what I have to do.” you said, gesturing to your art supplies strewn around the room. “But we’re not making it work, Megumi. We’re barely making it through the day without fighting.”
He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and for a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of the old Megumi shining through. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the weight of reality.
There was panic in the way he looked at you. You felt a bile form at your throat. You knew what it looked like. He was realizing it. He saw that sadness in your eyes. The sadness that he had hated so much on you, he had caused it on you. 
“I don’t know how to fix this. I….” he said, his voice low and raw. “Babe, I’m so sorry—”
You took a shaky breath, the words you’d been avoiding suddenly tumbling out. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t try to fix it anymore. I’m tired of all this, Megumi. I am….I am genuinely exhausted from trying to make it work.”
“Babe, listen we can talk this out and we can make it work. I know we can. We—”
“Maybe we should break up.”
The room went still, the echo of your words ringing louder than anything else. His blue–gren eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hurt coloring his features. Those words were the hardest you could ever say.
But perhaps it was the right words to say. Because he looked at you for the first time ever and finally, he saw you. He finally sees you, after such a long nightmare. 
“You don’t mean that. You—” he said, almost pleadingly, stepping closer.
“I do.” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t take this anymore, Megumi. We’re just making each other miserable, and it’s not fair to either of us.”
His shoulders sagged, and for the first time in a long while, he looked defeated. He reached out, almost as if he wanted to pull you back into a time when things were easier, when love was all you needed to bridge any gap.
But he stopped himself, letting his hand fall to his side. A sad small smile dances on your lips, biting them soon after. You could feel the tears fall from your weary eyes.
You were tired of fighting for something he couldn’t. You were tired of doing it by yourself. And he knew that. He knew that all too well. There were no other ways for him to stop you from leaving him, from leaving all this pain behind. Pain he had caused you over and over again. Pain that would scar you for as long as you lived.
“I don’t want to lose you.” he said softly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
You looked away, fighting the sob that threatened to break free. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we’re already losing each other.”
The words were so raw, so full of meaning, that it made your heart ache. But you could feel the wall between you two now, the one that you’d both been building without realizing it. You both don’t know your place in this relationship. You have outgrown it and it wasn’t even both your faults. It just….is life.
“I don’t want to lose you either, you know that.” you said, your voice shaking. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Megumi. I don’t know if I can keep waiting for you to come home when you’re already gone.”
The silence that fell over the two of you was deafening. The room felt colder, the space between you growing with every word that went unsaid. You stared at each other, both lost in the same silence, both unsure of where to go from here. The city outside continued to hum, oblivious to the cracks that were starting to form in the life you’d once built so carefully together.
The silence this time, it felt final. And as you both stood there, the city’s lights flickering through the window, you realized that sometimes love isn’t enough to fight against the things that pull you apart.
There were city lights, lights brighter than anything else. It was like the universe was here, and the stars beamed towards you both, like lovers. And yet, you were everything but in that moment. You were two people who finally saw the seesaw needs to fall down.
“I’ll pack my things.” You say to him, smiling ever sadder than before. “I’ll stay with a friend tonight. And…I’ll come back for my things.”
He doesn’t say another word. But you can tell. He was close to crying. Yet he gives you one singular nod as you slowly walk towards him and place your hand on his cheek. As though it was the last time you would ever touch him.
He looks up from his gaze on the ground, trying to memorize this image of you. You can tell there was desperation. What if he doesn’t see you again? What does he do?
“I loved you so much.” You said, the past tense making him flinch slightly. It was the hardest word to even pronounce. It  felt harder to say five words than the usual three. “I still do. But…I have to go. For our sake.”
“Don’t….” He whispers weakly. “Don’t tell me this, not after we just….”
“Goodbye, Megumi.” You tell him, with finality. A smile blunt on your face, trying to make this memory redeemable. “I hope you live a long and happy life.”
When you walked out, the city lights looked at you and blinked.
And yet, Fushiguro Megumi felt like he didn’t know what to do.
But he doesn’t stop you as you walk away, taking warmth away.
He lets you go, because loving you meant living without you too.
That was the risk of loving someone, that was the risk of living in love.
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A LOT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU BLINK. And that’s what happened. He didn’t expect it to happen, change will always have permanence. As much as time. Both are uncontrollable forces of nature. And he hated it.
It’s been five years now since you and Megumi had last stood on solid ground together, since the life you built had slowly crumbled under the weight of work, time, and distance. 
The memory of your arguments, your silences, still lingered in the back of his mind like a distant ache, a reminder of what once was and what was no longer. But time had done little to heal that wound.
In fact, Fushiguro Megumi had become even more entrenched in his work, burying himself in his career as a lawyer, trying to forget that, in the end, he had lost the one person who meant the most to him.
Now, sitting in a sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic burning his nose, he felt like he was living in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His eyes were locked onto the doctor in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, still processing what had just been said. The words hung in the air, thick with finality.
“Mr. Fushiguro, the test results confirm that you’ve inherited a hereditary condition from your father. It’s genetic and unfortunately, there's no cure.”
The doctor’s voice was calm, clinical, as though she were explaining a minor inconvenience, as though it was him talking to the jury at court. But Fushiguro Megumi heard nothing but the echo of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. 
He could barely process the words, the shock still settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. He’d always heard whispers about his father, that old man. Megumi didn’t care when he left. He still had Tsumiki. And then he had Gojo and then….. 
Megumi stops himself. He frowns deeper. He was not having the best of luck in lif. He likes to think he never has. Now, he is haunted and suffers more about this man who left them. He has to come back in the form of this stupid illness.
This stupid illness that would now be killing him slowly and fully. He wants to laugh out loud. Because, this was something else entirely. How cruel fate can be. How much of a comedy it is, how much of a stupid thing it is.
He leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him. A laugh threatened to slip from his lips, but it did.
Everything about it wasn’t one of humor. It was jagged and bitter, a laugh born of frustration, anger, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had simmered in his chest for years.
His blue–green gaze didn’t leave the doctor, but his eyes darkened towards the doctor. The doctor seemed to be unfazed by his reaction. Megumi felt like he was the same as the doctor when he was at court sometimes. Those cases don’t faze him. 
He had seen it all. And everyone had gotten mad at him at times too. And yet there was only disbelief now. He was on the other side of the aisle now. There was only surprise and then anguish and then bitterness. All of that didn’t taste good in his mouth.
“So, let me get this straight, doctor.” he began, his voice tight, almost controlled, but with an edge of fury beneath it. “My father, the man who abandoned me and Tsumiki after Mom died, is now showing up in my life, and now I’m supposed to care that I’ve inherited something from him? Something that’s going to kill me?”
The doctor faltered for a second, clearly caught off guard by the venom in his voice, but she remained professional. “It’s not quite like that, Mr. Fushiguro. Your father may not have been around, but—”
“No.” he cut her off, his fist clenching in his lap. “Don’t give me that. Don’t try to justify him. You think I care about a condition that’s been passed down through the blood of someone who doesn’t even care enough to be there when I need him?” 
“Mr. Fushiguro, please—”
His laugh returned, sharp and hollow, a bitter sound that didn’t belong in a place like this. “I never even wanted to know him. I was better off without him. And now that old man comes back. Oh god, what a fucking mess! What a comedy!”
His mind raced, the thoughts swirling in a chaotic dance of anger and disbelief. His father had left him and Tsumiki in the wake of their mother’s death, promising them nothing but silence. And he was bears with it. He always did. He always knew how to get on with life. That’s how he came to be where he is now. 
But he can’t help it. How could he? All that misery he had buried as a child comes back once more. He had thought it would never come back to the earth again. Everything about it was just as good as dead to him.
And yet, fate laughs at him. He laughs at how easy it is to push Megumi’s buttons. And he knew Megumi would react. Fate loved games and he would continue on and on, until he was satisfied. 
“You said it’s genetic, right?” he asked suddenly, his voice a little more brittle, the edge of his anger still cutting through the words. “How long do I have?”
The doctor looked at him with sympathy, but Megumi didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want the pity in her eyes. He didn’t want any of this.
“It depends on the progression of the disease.” she answered carefully, giving him the facts. “It could take years. Maybe even months. We do not know. But knowing some cases I’ve seen, It could be faster. We can try treatments, but we can’t reverse the damage already done.”
Megumi closed his blue–green eyes for a moment, his chest tightening. The realization hit him with full force: his life, the one he had built, the work, the efforts to stay busy, to keep going. None of it had prepared him for this. 
None of it had prepared him for the idea that he might not have much time left. How is he going to tell Tsumiki or Gojo? How could he prepare them for this? And to make matters worse, it was a legacy that had come from the very man who had never been there for him in the first place.
His laugh died in his throat, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake.
“Tell me this is some kind of mistake.” he muttered under his breath, as though saying the words would somehow make them untrue.
The doctor’s eyes softened, but she shook her head, handing him a folder with the test results. “I’m afraid it’s not.”
The weight of it all pressed down on him, his mind spinning. He stood abruptly, shoving the folder into his bag without a second glance, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of this sterile room before it suffocated him any further.
As he walked out of the hospital, the cool air of the evening hit him, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t help but wonder about it. What was the point of this? What was the point of surviving a life without a father only to be cursed with his legacy, a legacy that had already been stained with abandonment? What did it all mean?
He didn’t have the answers. But one thing was clear. He would never be able to look at his father the same way again. And now, he’d have to face the consequences of that. Whether he liked it or not. One way or another, it was just how it works. Fushiguro Megumi has to see that life goes on. It always has. Even in the face of death.
Yet for a moment, even if he has resigned himself to fate, he stops. 
He stops for a moment and thinks to himself and that warmth returns.
He wishes that  for what remains of life — he wished you were there with him.
Fushiguro Megumi wishes that he could see your smile and live in it again.
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HE FOUND HIMSELF DISASSOCIATING FOR A COUPLE OF MINUTES. But after news like that, who wouldn’t find themselves despondent. Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing in the hospital lobby. He’d left the doctor’s office a while ago, but his feet felt frozen to the ground, the weight of everything pressing down on him. 
His thoughts felt scrambled, and all he wanted was to get out of there, away from the sterile white walls, away from the suffocating reality of the diagnosis. The last thing he expected was to run into someone, you—after all this time.
But there you were, standing at the hospital’s entrance, your hair a little longer, your eyes just as bright, the warmth of your smile still able to stop his heart dead in its tracks. He hadn’t expected it. Not in such a place. And yet here you were. He hadn’t expected to see you here, of all places. After all, you took care of yourself well. But there you were, as beautiful and alive as ever.
At first, Megumi wasn’t sure what to do. Should he approach you? Should he pretend everything was fine? There was so much that had passed between you, so many years, so much silence.
And he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late for him to fix things. But before he could make any decision, you were already walking toward him, your gaze locking onto his like it always had when you were younger.
“Megumi.” you said softly, almost hesitantly, as though you weren’t sure how to say his name anymore.
You were still the same, and yet, you weren’t. Your voice was familiar, but the years between you had made things feel… off, awkward in a way that he hadn’t expected.
“Hey.” he said, his voice almost gruff, unsure of how to speak to you after so long.
He took a step back, unsure whether to smile, to say something casual. It was almost like he didn’t know who he was around you anymore. The man who used to be able to talk to you about anything had disappeared somewhere along the way.
You smiled, though, and for a brief moment, Megumi felt like he could breathe again. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you're here for a checkup too. You look fine to me.” you teased, and there was that playful spark in your eyes that he had missed.
Megumi shifted, looking around, as though searching for an answer that didn’t exist. The truth was, he didn’t want to tell you why he was here. Not yet. Not when he had no idea how to explain the mess his life had become.
“I’m just here… taking care of some stuff.” he muttered, the lie slipping out before he could stop it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension build again. “You know, business stuff.”
You raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing your face, but instead of pressing him further, you just shrugged. “Well, I’m not here for anything too serious. Just visiting a friend.”
"Oh, I see."
Your gaze softened as you spoke, the smile on your face softening the more you looked at him. "I didn’t expect to see you here. Not after all this time."
Megumi nodded, biting his lip. No kidding, he thought to himself. The years had passed, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this. He hadn’t expected to feel so... unsure. He wasn’t used to this distance between you two. Not like this.
“Well....” you said, after a pause. You rubbed the back of your neck. “Do you want to grab dinner or something? I don’t know about you, but I could really use some decent food after dealing with all this hospital nonsense.”
At first, Megumi hesitated, unsure if he should take the invitation. But something about the ease in your voice, the casual familiarity of it, made him relent. “Sure. I guess I could go for something... edible.” he said, trying to joke, but it came out more stiff than he wanted.
You laughed, the sound of it bringing back memories of the good old days when life was simpler and he didn’t have to carry the weight of unspoken words between you. You waved him off, but there was something in your eyes, something gentle and patient, like you weren’t rushing him to explain himself.
The two of you walked out of the hospital together, falling into step like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was awkward at first, the silence between you hanging heavy, but as you got settled at the restaurant, everything started to fall back into place.
You ordered something light, and Megumi, on autopilot, ordered something simple—a dish he could eat quickly. The waiter left, and for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, not quite knowing how to bridge the gap that had been there for years.
“So…..” you began, after a while, trying not to be awkward. “Why were you at the hospital? Don’t tell me you have a broken bone or something.”
Megumi’s eyes flickered over to you, and he was about to brush it off, to avoid answering; like he always did when it came to anything about his past, about his father.  He hoped you weren’t noticing it. He hoped that you weren’t able to see through him again.
But before he could think of a way out, he realized something: you weren’t just anyone. You were you—the person who knew him better than anyone. The person he had lost, the person who had been there for him when everything else fell apart. You had and always will know more about him than anyone else. Even if he doesn’t say anything.
He exhaled slowly, and then, without thinking, he shrugged and said, “I guess you could say I’m getting some bad news.”
You furrowed your brow in concern, and before you could ask, he let out a dry laugh, something hollow that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.”
You shook your head, already knowing where this was headed. “Megumi, your jokes are still as bad as they were when we were kids.” You leaned back in your seat with a fond smile, your eyes soft. “You’re impossible.”
He chuckled under his breath, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. The familiar rhythm of teasing, of falling back into old patterns, felt surprisingly good. His heart, which had felt heavy and weighed down for so long, was starting to feel lighter with each passing moment.
“You should’ve known,” Megumi muttered, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m the best at bad jokes.”
You laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Fushiguro.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fix what had been broken. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to the person who used to be everything to him.
But for now, he would take the little moments like this—the laughter, the shared memories, and the warmth of simply being in your presence again. Everything felt like the sun had shone on earth again. Everything felt right like this.
And, for once, he wasn’t afraid of what came next.
Fushiguro Megumi sat back in his chair, watching you as you laughed, as you teased him, and it felt like the whole world faded away for a few moments. For the first time in months, his chest didn’t feel so tight, his mind didn’t feel so heavy.
The hospital, the test results, the news about his father; they all felt like distant memories, like something that could be put on the shelf and forgotten for a while. Because in this moment, right now, the only thing that mattered was you.
He liked this. He liked the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way you still knew how to make him laugh even when everything inside him ached. There was a calmness, a sense of peace, in being around you that he hadn’t felt in years. 
The world around him had become chaotic, unpredictable, but here at this small, unassuming restaurant, sharing a quiet dinner with you. Everything about it, it made him feel… warm inside. It felt like coming home, after a long time away from it.
As the conversation flowed easily between you two, Megumi found himself watching the way you moved, the way you spoke, the way you were still you. It was like nothing had changed, like time hadn’t passed at all. Except it had. 
Five years had come and gone, and he had spent most of them buried in work, in his own personal mess of anger and hurt, while you had lived your own life. But now, seeing you here, smiling at him like this, it was like he had been given something precious he hadn’t realized he’d lost: you.
And then it hit him. That sharp pang of realization.
He was dying.
In a few months, his life, everything he had worked for, everything he had wanted, would be over. And the one thing he had always wanted, the one thing that had never wavered was sitting right across from him, smiling at him like he was everything.
You, the person he had spent his whole life running from, running toward, the person who had always been there.
And now, here you were again.
His heart skipped a beat as he processed it all.  It was all coming at him fast, like a car speeding fast towards him. He doesn’t know what to do, how to do it. Everything overwhelmed him. But then again, he thinks he’s always felt like this when it came to you. He can’t deny that whatsoever. 
Everything made him feel like a boy again. All these feelings he can’t describe makes him so overwhelmed with what life means. How much he had missed you, how much he still needed you in his life, they all started to make him wonder about it all. 
The joke, the casual teasing, the familiar warmth between you two—it was what he wanted. It was what he had always wanted. He had never allowed himself to admit it fully, not back then, not when you were both young and carefree. But now, with the weight of his diagnosis hanging over him like a dark cloud, he couldn’t deny it any longer.
It wasn’t just that he wanted to be around you. No, it was more than that. He needed to be around you, to feel your presence, your warmth, your love. The idea that he might never get to hold you close again after all this time made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t put into words.
You caught his gaze, your smile faltering just for a moment. “Hey, are you okay?” you asked, the concern in your voice immediate and genuine. “You’ve been quiet all of a sudden.”
Megumi blinked, realizing he had zoned out. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”
You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t press. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, then set it down, eyes watching him carefully. “I get that a lot lately,” you said, half-joking, half-serious. “I tend to get lost in my head too.”
He chuckled softly, trying to push away the heaviness that was creeping back into his thoughts. But it was hard. It was hard when every little thing in this moment reminded him of what he was going to lose.
He didn’t know how much time he had left. And that thought scared him more than anything. But what scared him even more was the idea of never telling you how he truly felt, never having the chance to fully be with you.
“So, what about you?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter than before. “How’s life been? Really, how are you?”
You blinked at him, clearly taken aback by the change in tone. “You know, same as usual. Gallery events, late nights at the studio… You know, the usual chaos,” you said with a small smile. But then, you tilted your head. “And you? You’ve been working so much, Megumi. You’ve been pushing yourself.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have,” he admitted. “It’s just… it’s easier, you know? To bury myself in work rather than deal with what’s going on in my head.”
There it was. The truth, just slipping out. His chest tightened again, the weight of everything catching up to him. You watched him with soft eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited, patiently, for him to continue.
“I think…” He hesitated, unsure of how to say it, unsure if he even had the right to say it now. But his heart was screaming at him to be honest, to be real with you. “I think I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of how I feel about you. I never said it before… but I think I’ve always loved you, even when I couldn’t show it.”
Your eyes softened, your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. Megumi could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the silence stretched on.
“I’ve always loved you, you know?” he repeated, the words stronger this time. “And… I know it’s late. I know it’s probably too late, but I want you to know. I want you to know that I needed you. That I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. Whatever time I can get.”
His voice faltered as the confession hung in the air, and the weight of it felt almost unbearable. But then, slowly, you reached across the table, your hand gently landing on his.
“I never stopped loving you either, Megumi. I hope you know that.” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”
The words hit him like a wave, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could breathe again. Like everything wasn’t falling apart. Maybe, just maybe, the time that was slipping away didn’t matter as long as he could be with you in these final months, these final moments. He looked at you, the warmth of your hand in his, and a fragile smile tugged at his lips.
“Then let’s make the most of it.” he whispered. “Even if we start out again and be friends first. I’d love to make the most of it.”
You smiled at him warmly in response. “I’d like that too.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t have the time he wanted. But in that moment, as you sat across from him, the love of his life, he felt at peace.
And perhaps, maybe, just maybe – that was enough.
Maybe, this was all he needed in life.
His life was going to be defined by loving you.
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BEING SENTIMENTAL, IT WASN’T WHAT HE WAS GOOD AT. He knew too well what this will be in the end. He knew that it was going to hurt you both, that it was going to hurt him most. It wasn’t the best idea, you knew that.
Letting Fushiguro Megumi back into your life after everything that had happened, after all the years apart—it wasn’t exactly the most rational choice. You’d spent so long building your own life, carving out your space in the world, and now, just as you’d begun to find your rhythm again, life threw you a curveball you never saw coming.
The diagnosis.
Dementia. A rare form. And to make matters worse, it was hitting you far too early before you’d even reached thirty-five. The doctors had explained it all in somber tones, but the truth was, none of it really sunk in at first.
It was a shock, a blow you weren’t sure how to handle. The thought that, in just a few years, you might forget everything, the art you created, the people you loved, the moments that had shaped your life, was downright terrifying.
And yet, here you were, staring at your phone screen with Megumi’s name blinking back at you. He’d reached out. You hadn’t heard from him in so long. The last time you saw him, things were… complicated. So many years spent apart, so many unspoken words, and yet, when you saw his name, your heart skipped a beat.
You thought it might have been fate. Or maybe just a desperate wish. The idea that you had a shot at all was one in a million. In this small window of time, before it all slipped away— to make some memories. To live whatever life you could, before the inevitable began to take hold. You wondered how that could be.
So you called him back. And when he answered, the voice on the other end was familiar and steady, just like you remembered.
“You really want to see me?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. “It’s been a while.”
You smiled softly, your fingers curling around the phone. “I do. I want to see you, Megumi. I need to. I—” You paused, unsure how to explain it. How could you? “I just want to make some memories.”
There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, his tone was gentler. “Okay. Let’s make some memories then. How about we go to the aquarium? I know it’s random, but… I thought it might be fun.”
You felt a small laugh escape your lips at the thought of it. Megumi…Your Megumi. He was always so serious, always so reserved, ever so practical — but somehow, a trip to the aquarium seemed like just the thing you needed.
He was keeping you afloat, keeping you alive, wanting to do things. Wanting to make life interesting, even with that orderly fashion of his. It makes you warm inside. It always has. It always will.
“That sounds perfect.” you said, the words coming out easily, almost relieved.
And so, there you were, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium, waiting for him. Your heart was a little heavier than before, the weight of the diagnosis still there in the back of your mind. But in this moment, with Megumi on his way, you felt something else: a little spark of hope. A little spark of life.
You caught sight of him as he rounded the corner, looking just as you remembered, though maybe a little older, a little worn around the edges. His eyes were still the same, dark and intense, but there was something softer about him now, something that made your heart ache.
“Hey,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “Long time no see.”
You smiled back, the weight of the years between you almost forgotten. "Yeah. It’s been too long."
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a little too long, as though he could tell something was different. You didn’t have to say it out loud. He could read you like a book. He always has. You don’t think he’ll stop now. You hope he wouldn’t. You smiled at him.
“I’m glad you called.” he said softly, as if unsure of how to proceed, but that familiar warmth in his voice was still there. It had never really gone away, had it?
"Me too." you replied, and for the first time in a long while, you meant it. "I needed this."
Megumi nodded, and the two of you walked into the aquarium together, the world around you a blur of soft lights and flowing water. The sound of distant laughter and the rhythmic swoosh of fish in tanks filled the air, but all you could hear was his voice, the way it brought comfort, the way it made you feel like maybe you weren’t alone in this after all.
You pointed out the exhibits as you wandered through the aquarium, asking him what he thought of the colorful fish or the playful otters, though truthfully, your mind wasn’t always on the sea creatures. You couldn’t help but glance at him, at the way he reacted to everything, his quiet smile, his dry humor. It felt so familiar. So right.
“Remember when we came here when we were younger?” you asked, your voice soft. “We didn’t know anything about what we were doing, just wandered around aimlessly.”
Megumi chuckled, though it sounded bittersweet. “I think I spent most of the time trying to keep you from getting too close to the sharks.”
You laughed, the sound light and free, just like it used to be when you were younger. "You always were protective."
He didn’t respond to that, but the way he looked at you said it all. You both knew. You both remembered the connection you had once shared. And now, as you stood together, surrounded by glass tanks and exotic sea life, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as broken as they seemed.
Megumi turned to you after a while, his blue – green eyes searching yours, as though considering whether to say something, something important. Sometimes Megumi gets like this.
He tries to do well when figuring out what to say, how to say them. To avoid misunderstanding. To be clear. And yet in that moment, he seemed like he already had those words. But he doesn’t want to bring it up. At least not yet.
“Do you… do you remember what you used to tell me?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “When we were kids, you said you wanted to live life fully. You didn’t want to waste a single second.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. It took a moment for you to recall those words, but when you did, a small laugh escaped your lips. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You still want that, right?” Megumi’s gaze was steady, unwavering.
You paused, your heart skipping a beat. There was no need to speak the truth aloud—it was clear. Even with everything you had to face, you still wanted to live, even if it was just a little longer, even if it meant creating new memories, even if it was messy and imperfect.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”
And with that simple admission, Megumi smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, a little brighter than before. He didn’t ask you what was coming next, or how much time you had left, or any of the things you had to worry about in the back of your mind. He just stood there, by your side, ready to make the most of the time you had left.
And in that moment, you realized something else too—maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let him back in, but it felt like fate. Fate had given you a chance, and you weren’t going to waste it.
Not now. Not ever again.
As you and Megumi wandered through the aquarium, the world outside seemed to fade away. There was something peaceful about the soft glow of the tanks, the gentle movement of the sea creatures, and the quiet way you and Megumi existed in each other’s space. The sounds of the outside world, the murmur of people and the occasional squeal of children, felt far away, like they were part of a distant dream.
Megumi leaned closer to one of the tanks, his eyes following the delicate movements of a seahorse. You caught yourself watching him more than you watched the creatures inside the glass, his expression thoughtful, like he was lost in the quiet beauty of it all. 
His features softened in a way that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t just his looks, though—it was the way he was. The way he had always been there for you, even when life pulls you in different directions. Everything about him makes you orbit around him, like he was your earth and you were his moon. He kept you balanced. And you like it. You always have.
“Hey, Megumi.” you said, nudging him lightly. “You’ve gone quiet. Do you still hate fish?”
He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in that familiar, teasing way. “Not the fish, just... I can’t believe you’ve dragged me here, of all places.” But his words held no real malice. There was warmth there, a soft playfulness that made you smile.
“Admit it already.” you teased him. “You like it. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Megumi snorted, and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe I do. But don’t go getting any ideas. I’m not a seafood enthusiast yet."
You grinned, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll take what I can get.”
You both wandered deeper into the exhibit, laughing at the odd little creatures, pointing out your favorites, and making light-hearted jokes. At one point, you found yourselves standing before a tank of jellyfish, their long, flowing tentacles creating a mesmerizing dance in the water. You both watched in silence, the gentle sway of the jellyfish almost hypnotic.
“This is kind of like us, isn’t it?” you asked, turning to Megumi, your voice quieter now. “Just... floating along, not really knowing where we’re going, but just kind of going with it?”
Megumi looked over at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Maybe it is.” he murmured, his voice soft and a little more serious than usual. “But, you know, I don’t mind floating along with you.”
You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand wrapped around yours almost instinctively, and in that moment, it felt so right. So simple. So perfect.
"You're really good at this." you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "At making things feel easy."
Megumi’s fingers tightened around yours, and he turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I think you’ve always made it easy, you know?” he said quietly.
You both stood there for a while, hand in hand, watching the jellyfish move. Time seemed to slow down as you both took in the moment, each of you content in the other’s presence. The world around you felt like it had paused, just for a little while, just for the two of you to exist together.
As the day began to wind down and the aquarium started to empty out, Megumi pulled you closer, his arm lightly draped around your shoulder, a natural, easy gesture.
You leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, his presence, the way he made you feel like everything would be okay. You knew it was, even when you weren’t sure about anything. As long as you have Fushiguro Megumi, life will turn out alright. It always has. It always will.
“Thanks for today, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice full of meaning. "I needed this."
Megumi glanced down at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad. I needed it too.”
As you made your way to the exit, you felt lighter. The weight of your diagnosis, the fear of what was to come, was still there in the back of your mind—but in this moment, with Megumi by your side, everything else seemed distant. The future, no matter how uncertain, didn’t feel so scary anymore.
You both stepped out into the evening air, the cool breeze brushing past your faces. The city lights were just beginning to flicker on in the distance, and the streets felt full of life.
You glanced over at Megumi, his expression soft, content. The night was still young, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were living in the moment, not worrying about what was to come.
“You know……” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe we should do this again sometime.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “What, go to an aquarium?”
You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Why not? You never know, next time we might get to see the dolphins.”
He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. “You and your love for sea animals,” he teased.
“I’m serious!” you said with a laugh. “But next time, maybe you’ll actually like it more.”
“Maybe,” he said with a chuckle. "Just maybe."
As you walked side by side, the cool evening air wrapping around you, your thoughts wandered again to the future, the future that was becoming a little more uncertain with each passing day. But then you looked at Megumi again, at the soft smile on his face, and for a moment, it didn’t matter. For now, everything was perfect.
And in that perfect moment, you realized: this—him—was what you wanted. Not just tonight, not just this moment, but forever. Or at least, as long as you could have it. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but in this instant, you were going to savor every second of it.
You glanced up at Megumi, squeezing his hand gently as you whispered, “I want this to last forever.”
Megumi squeezed your hand back, his voice steady and warm. “I do too.”
But you knew, you knew too well, as he did.
Nothing on this earth was bound to last forever.
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HE DIDN’T EXPECT HOW THIS WAS GOING TO END. But then again, you too didn’t expect it. Everything was unpredictable. But he expected this to happen. Even if he didn’t want it to. That was just his fate. The pain had been creeping up on him more and more, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that his time was running out. 
Every movement, every step, felt like a battle. His body wasn’t his own anymore, and no matter how much he tried to push through it, the heaviness of his condition weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Everything was miserable, and he hated it. He hated how this was happening.
But there was something, someone, that made it all seem bearable. You. The thought of you kept him going, even when his body felt like it was betraying him. At the time when everything was starting to know its place, to fit perfectly. Right time, right place, right person. And yet, this had come to pass. He was sick. Beyond fixing. 
Yet Megumi was certain that he was going to fight it. For as long as he can still do it. For as long as he had the strength to. He still wanted more time with you. More chances to make up for those five years. But he knew that it was getting harder. He didn’t want you to see how bad it was getting. 
Sometimes he can’t even move himself. Sometimes he felt like he was going to throw up everything he ate. Sometimes he feels like he was going to pass out. But he doesn’t want to give up just yet.
He can’t. It wasn’t time, not just yet. He still needs to live. No matter how painful it all gets. He wants to live. He wasn’t giving up. Not when he still wanted to be there for you. Not when he still wanted to make you smile.
And he wanted to prove that. He always wants to prove that. That he was strong enough. That he can still stay here. That he can still take care of you. Tonight was one of those nights. It was already late when he got your call. But he didn’t care about the time. He had to go there for you. 
He rushed out with his meager winter coat and rushed over there. The sound of your voice was filled with frustration and a little bit of panic, and that was enough to get him moving immediately. It kept ringing in his head, the tone of your voice. He doesn’t think he had ever heard that voice from you before. 
All the way there, he thought more about your frustration and your panic more than his own pain. He didn’t even think about how exhausted he was or how much his body ached. You were what mattered to him at this moment. Nothing else. You mattered more to him. He was always going to put your first, especially now. 
When he arrived at your apartment, he found you standing by the door, frowning and rifling through your bag. Your face lit up with a mix of relief and embarrassment when you saw him. He took a moment to breathe before greeting you. 
“Megumi, I’m so sorry.” you said, wiping a hand over your face. “I can’t find my keys. I’ve looked everywhere. I—I think I’ve lost them.”
The distress in your voice was enough to make his heart tighten. He immediately stepped toward you, trying to hide the wince that flickered across his face as he reached for the door handle. 
“It’s okay, hm?” he said softly, his voice steady, even if the pain inside was threatening to make it crack. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
He tried to ignore the way his legs ached as he crouched down to check the bottom of the doormat, his hand shaking slightly as he pushed it aside, looking for any sign of the missing keys. You stood beside him, still fretting, your hands wringing together.
“I’m sorry, Megumi. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” you murmured, your voice trembling.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stood up again. “You’re not a burden. You never have been.” He reached out, gently wiping the tears that had started to fall down your cheek. "I’m happy to help."
I’m happy to be needed. He thinks to himself, looking at you. I’m happy to be wanted by you.
Your breath hitched, your heart racing from the warmth of his touch. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm and collected when you felt like you were falling apart. But then again, it was just like him to make sure you were okay, even if it meant putting aside his own pain.
“I’m so sorry, again.” you said again, this time more softly. “I shouldn’t have let this get to me.”
Megumi just shook his head. “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our moments. It’s normal to get frustrated. I’ll help you find them, I promise.”
He glanced around for a moment, and then his gaze softened as he met your eyes. For a brief second, the weight of his own pain seemed to vanish, replaced by the quiet, soothing comfort of being close to you. The way you looked at him like he was the one thing that made sense in the chaos made everything feel a little easier.
“Let’s check inside your bag again.” he suggested gently. He took the bag from you, unzipping it with a practiced hand. As he rummaged through it, you watched him carefully, your anxiety easing just a little from the reassurance in his tone.
And then, as if by magic, he pulled out the keys from the deepest pocket of your bag. He held them up with a small, triumphant smile.
“Found them, dummy.” he said, and the relief in his voice made your heart swell.
You let out a shaky laugh, tears still lingering in your eyes, but a smile now tugging at your lips. “I’m so hopeless sometimes.”
Megumi’s smile widened, his eyes softening. “Don’t say that. You’re not hopeless. You just had a moment.”
His hand brushed against yours as he handed you the keys, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. Just you, him, the simple act of being together in the quiet, unspoken moments.
You met his gaze, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Thank you, Megumi. For everything.”
His bright blue–green orbs could only soften even more, and for the briefest moment, you could see the quiet ache in them, but it wasn’t pain. No, it was something else, something deeper. Something more beautiful, something more true. Everything about him felt so genuine. More than ever before.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy I’m here with you.”
And for that moment, in that small, shared space, it felt like nothing else mattered. The world outside could have been crumbling, but in his presence, you felt a quiet sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.
Megumi gave you one last, reassuring smile, wiping away the last of your tears, and then offered his arm to you as he moved to open the door for you. You stepped inside, the cool air of the apartment a small comfort after the small storm of emotions. Megumi was right. Everything would be fine. 
At least, for now, it was. You could forget about the worries of tomorrow and just be in the moment. As he followed you inside, a part of you couldn’t help but think how much longer you wanted this moment by your side. How you wished you could hold onto these moments forever.
The evening had grown colder, but the light snowfall made everything feel magical, like a scene out of a dream. You and Megumi had just finished your little excursion to find the perfect hotpot place, and as you sat at a cozy table by the window, the snowflakes drifted lazily outside. 
The warmth of the restaurant was a nice contrast to the chilly air, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Everything about tonight was what would make winter feel the want to enjoy being alive, being warm in the cold breeze of its existence.
You pulled your phone from your bag, feeling the impulse to capture the moment. You glanced up at Megumi, who was poking at his bowl, looking surprisingly content for someone who usually seemed to prefer avoiding anything too flashy. 
His serious demeanor had softened, and his usual guarded expression was replaced with a rare sense of comfort. With a smile, you snapped a quick picture of him. Megumi looked up, startled by the sound of your camera clicking.
“Hey, no pictures, you dummy.” he protested, though his tone wasn’t harsh. He reached for the camera, but you pulled it away quickly, holding it to your chest with a grin.
“Why not? You look cute, you know?” you teased, winking playfully at him.
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You always say that. Why do you take so many pictures anyway?”
You leaned back in your seat, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess… I just want to remember things. The little moments that matter. You never know when they’ll be gone, so I figure I should capture the ones that make me happy.”
Megumi’s eyes softened, and he gave a quiet nod, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad you do that. You’ve always had a way of making ordinary moments feel... special.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad you’re here to make them feel special too.”
The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, filled with small chatter and the occasional clink of chopsticks. You felt more at ease than you had in a long time, the weight of the world outside the restaurant seemingly lifted.
Once dinner was over, you both left the warm comfort of the restaurant, stepping into the crisp winter night. The air was fresh and sharp, and the snow had started to fall heavier, painting the streets in a blanket of white. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at the sky, the snowflakes drifting down like confetti.
You walked ahead a few steps, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, when you suddenly realized that Megumi wasn’t next to you. Turning around, you saw him standing still, almost frozen in place, his posture slumped in an uncharacteristic way. You paused, confused, until you saw him sway slightly before collapsing onto the snow-covered pavement with a soft thud.
Your heart stopped.
“Megumi!” You rushed over to him in a panic, your breath catching in your throat as you knelt beside him. His face was pale, and his body was limp in the snow, the cold seeping through his clothes.
You gently shook his shoulder, your voice shaking as you called his name again. “Megumi! Hey, wake up, please…”
His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t stir. You were beyond scared now. His condition had been worsening for a while, but seeing him like this made your entire world feel like it was crashing down around you. You could feel your heart beating, faster than it ever has. You had never felt such fright in your entire life.
“Megumi, stay with me, please. Please, oh my god—someone help! Please!” you say, your voice breaking as you hovered over him, panic rising in your chest. 
You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Warm tears were starting to fall from your eyes, contrasting the cold. Everything about this moment felt like you were losing to fate.
You hated this feeling. You hated this helplessness. You hated the thought of losing the love of your life. Everything about this was cruel. And that had just made you cry even more. 
You take a breath, calming yourself, as you quickly pull your phone from your pocket, dialing the emergency number, your hands trembling as you explained the situation to the operator.
You try to check on him, trying to get him to wake up. Tears still pouring endlessly, like raindrops in the winter hale. The minutes stretched on, every second feeling like an eternity.
Megumi stirred slightly, his eyes opening just enough for him to give you a half-smile, his voice weak but still trying to reassure you, even though he clearly wasn’t fully conscious. You gasped, trying to explain to the operator that he woke up. But he immediately cuts you off, his hand on your own. He weakly squeezes it.
“Don’t... don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the cold air. “I’m... fine.”
You shook your head, your tears threatening to spill as you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “No, you’re not! You’re not fine, Megumi. You’re really not fine.”
“Hey, you…you dummy.” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You... should smile. You... should still... take pictures.”
You shook your head again, laughing through the tears that had started to fall. “I don’t care about pictures, Megumi. I just care about you.”
His eyes fluttered closed again, but he seemed comforted by your words, the faintest hint of a smile still on his lips. You kept holding his hand, never letting go, until the sound of the ambulance arrived in the distance. You didn’t want to, you never wanted to leave. Not him. But you could only pray that he’s just as resolved not to leave you too.
After all, how could you live without him?
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YOU HATED THE SMELL OF HOSPITALS. You don’t like the smell of death, the smell of grief. The smell of suffering all at once gathered through the halls. You were aware just as much that Megumi doesn’t like hospitals either. He’d always hated it as much as you. Even just doing check–ups made him upset. But there was no other choice. He has to live.
This was the only way to keep him alive. This was the only way he wouldn’t leave you. You'd rather he spend the rest of his life hating the smell of this one moment than let him die. You'd do anything to have him for what time is left.
The cold hospital lights buzzed above you as you sat next to Megumi’s bed, your fingers clutching his hand so tightly it almost hurt. His body was hooked up to various machines, the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound that filled the sterile room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sight of him lying there, pale and fragile, making your chest tighten with every passing second.
The ambulance ride had been a blur of frantic moments, the flashing lights reflecting off the cold pavement as you gripped Megumi’s hand, trying to keep him awake, trying to keep him here with you. But he slipped in and out of consciousness, each time his body growing weaker, his breath shallower.
When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors didn’t waste any time. They immediately ran tests and checked his vitals, and within what felt like an eternity, they informed you of the worst news you could have imagined.
You felt like you were going to lose it when you finally heard all of it in detail. You didn’t want to hear more of it. But you had no choice. You needed to know. You needed to know so you could understand. 
Fushiguro Megumi had been battling a terminal illness, something that had been eating away at him for months, maybe even longer and he had never told you. They told you about his rare, degenerative condition, how it had been causing him excruciating pain, and how little time he had left. 
You didn’t even know how to process it. There was no true way to process it. He was dying. And you just got him back. You were going to lose him, just when you had him back. And that made you feel like you were dying too. Because how? How does one not go mad with it already? 
You wanted to scream, to yell at the world for being so unfair. But instead, you sat there, numb, tears streaming down your face, your hands trembling as you held onto Megumi like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Why didn’t he tell you? Why had he tried to carry all of this on his own?
And yet, there was a part of you that knew exactly why. It was just like him. Megumi, ever the stoic, ever the quiet one, always putting others before himself, always bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever asking for help.
The sound of his voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was weak at first, a soft murmur, but it was unmistakable.
“Hey… stop crying…..you dummy.”
You froze, looking down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar dark eyes you had always loved. They were dull now, tired, but there was still that softness in them. That quiet strength that had always drawn you to him.
You shook your head, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Megumi, please, I—I can’t…” Your voice cracked as the words caught in your throat. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”
His hand weakly squeezed yours, his grip not as strong as it used to be, but the touch still sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He shifted slightly in the bed, his brows furrowing as if trying to find the strength to sit up, but his body betrayed him, and he sank back into the pillow, wincing in pain.
“Don’t cry over me. Enough.” he whispered, his voice low and strained. “I’m... I’m not worth it.”
You let out a small sob, your head dropping to the edge of his bed as you tried to compose yourself, though the tears kept coming. “Megumi, you are. You are worth it. You always have been.”
He turned his head slightly toward you, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion, but there was something softer there, something almost apologetic. You hated that look on his face. Because there was nothing to apologize about. Not even once. All you wanted to do was take care of him. All you wanted to do was keep him safe.
“I’ve been so... selfish, haven’t I?” His voice was barely audible, the words coming out in a rasp, but you heard them clearly. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to burden you with this...”
“You never burdened me, Megumi. You should know that.” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his. “You never were a burden. I would’ve done anything for you...”
He let out a quiet sigh, the corners of his lips twitching up in the faintest smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart ache even more. He looked so resigned to his fate, to all of this pain. And you didn’t like it. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be content. Not when you just got back together.
“I know, I know.” he murmured, his voice so weak now that it was almost lost in the hum of the machines around you. “I know you would’ve.”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but it was difficult with the weight of everything pressing down on you. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore, Megumi.” you whispered, the words barely escaping. “It’s okay to let me help you. Please don’t push me away. I can’t lose you like this.”
His eyes closed again, and for a moment, you thought he might have fallen asleep again, but his voice broke through the silence, softer now, as if he were speaking to himself as much as to you. It was such a low voice, so weary and exhausted. You didn’t like seeing him like this. So beaten by something he can’t control.
“Maybe... maybe I should’ve let you in sooner. I was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I told you everything.”
You gently cupped his face with your hand, wiping away the tears that still fell freely. “You don’t have to apologize for any of it. I just wish I’d known. I wish I could’ve helped sooner.”
Megumi’s lips parted, but his breath hitched in a shallow cough before he could say anything more. His hand gripped yours again, and this time, he managed a little more pressure, just enough to make you feel the sincerity in his touch.
“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” he whispered softly. “I don’t have much time left... but I’m glad I have you now.”
Your heart shattered at those words, but at the same time, you held onto them, clinging to the fragile thread of time that remained between you. You leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, your heart aching with the knowledge that you didn’t know how much time you had left with him, but you were going to make the most of every precious second.
“I’m here, Megumi. Always.” you whispered. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Days blended together as the winter months stretched on. The world outside seemed to freeze, as if mirroring the heaviness in your heart. Snowflakes continued to fall softly outside the hospital windows, blanketing the world in quiet white, but inside, it felt like the world was slowly slipping away.
You didn’t let yourself dwell on the inevitable. You couldn’t. Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw the man you loved, the man who had always been there for you, even when you hadn’t known you needed him. You stayed by his side every day, holding his hand, speaking to him, telling him about everything you hoped for. 
About how the world was still turning outside, how you wanted to keep making memories, even if it felt impossible. You even began taking photos again. Photos of him. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but you were going to capture every moment, every smile, every soft word between you.
It wasn’t easy. Some days, you couldn’t remember where you’d put your keys, or where your phone was. Little things, fading memories, were slipping through your grasp, like water running through your fingers. But what stayed, what never faded—was how deeply you loved him. How every moment you shared with Megumi had become a treasure in your heart.
It was late one afternoon, the sky already darkening as the cold winds howled outside, when you sat next to him again in his hospital room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was almost rhythmic now, and the other sounds of the machines had become a steady background hum.
You watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling with the shallow breath of someone who had fought so long to stay with you. You had asked the doctors, of course, but they had never promised anything. They always do that. They say, they can only do their best. Promises are the hardest, especially when it comes to people’s lives. 
You ran your fingers over his hand, brushing against the cool skin that had once been warm, but you didn’t mind. It was still him. Still the Megumi you knew, the Megumi you had spent years beside, growing together, building a life together. Even if that life had been cut short, you would never stop cherishing it.
You whispered softly to him, hoping he could hear, even as he drifted in and out of sleep. “Megumi... I love you. And I’m never going to forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember you.”
For a long while, there was silence—just the sound of the wind outside and the soft hum of the hospital machines. You thought about the future, or rather, the lack of one that you’d once planned.
The future you had dreamed of with him, one where you could grow old together, laughing at silly jokes, holding hands as you walked through life. But the truth of the situation lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.
And then, just as you were about to close your eyes for a moment’s rest, Megumi’s voice broke the stillness, faint and barely audible.
“Hey...” he said, his voice raspy, but full of that familiar warmth.
You sat up straight, your eyes immediately focusing on him. He was awake, just barely, his eyes blinking slowly in the dim light. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. He looked so exhausted.
As though he doesn’t have any energy left to live. You hated that, you hated that smile too. You can’t help it. It made you aware how fragile everything is. How fragile life is. How you were far too near to losing him. 
“You... you’re awake?” you whispered, leaning closer, your heart pounding with hope.
He nodded slightly, though the movement seemed to take a lot of effort. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m... sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” you said, a smile slipping onto your face, even though your eyes were still damp. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Megumi. I’m just... glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re with me.”
His eyes softened as he looked up at you, his lips parting slightly as he struggled for the words. “I’ve always... wanted you to be happy. Even now, I... I want you to be happy.”
Your heart clenched, and you leaned down, your forehead resting gently against his. “I am happy. Because I’m with you. I have been, and I always will be.”
Megumi smiled again, his hand weakly squeezing yours. His smile was small, but it meant everything to you. The most precious thing in the world. You would carry that smile with you, even if the days grew darker, even if the cold winds of winter began to steal more from you.
In that moment, you made a promise to him in your heart. You promised that, no matter what, you would keep loving him. Even if you forgot everything else, you would never forget the love you shared. You would never forget him.
The room felt colder than it ever had before, despite the soft hum of the heaters and the warmth of the blankets wrapped around Megumi. You sat there beside him, holding his hand, feeling his pulse slowly fading.
The soft beeping of the heart monitor had become slower, more erratic. Your eyes were fixed on him, waiting, hoping for some miracle that you knew would never come.
The doctors had already said it to you, clearly. His time was up. There were no more treatments, no more hopes left to cling to. The harsh reality of it all was suffocating, but you didn’t want to let go. You couldn’t. Not when he had been your everything for so long.
You leaned down closer to him, brushing his bangs out of his face, memorizing the way his features were so familiar, the way his eyes had always held that quiet strength. You whispered to him softly, your voice shaky, as tears slid down your cheeks. 
"Megumi... please, please stay with me. I love you so much."
His breath was shallow now, ragged. But he turned his head toward you ever so slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes still holding a glimmer of something.
Even in the face of his end, there was a calmness in him, a peace that you couldn’t quite grasp. And you wondered, not for the first time, if he had known all along that this was the way things would end.
He barely opened his mouth, but his voice was soft and full of the kind of warmth that you’d come to treasure, the kind of warmth that had always been his, even when he was hurting.
"I'm glad that you were my final view, you dummy…..my love." he said, his voice so quiet, so weak, but full of meaning. "I'm glad that you were my beginning... and my end."
Your heart shattered at the words, but you swallowed back your sobs, trying to stay strong for him. He had always been strong for you, even when he didn’t have to be. And now, it was your turn to be strong for him.
"I love you, so so much." he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying more weight than anything else he could have said. His hand tightened around yours, just for a moment, but it was enough to make your heart soar and break all at once.
You pressed your forehead to his, your tears falling freely now, each drop a painful reminder that time had run out. You wanted to cry out loud. You wanted him to wake up. You wanted him to come back. But you know he won't. He won't ever come back.
"I love you." you whispered back, over and over again, as if saying it would somehow make the pain of losing him easier. "I love you... I love you... I love you."
But there was no answer. No more words. His chest rose and fell one last time, and then it stilled. The beep of the heart monitor flatlines, and with it, the world around you seems to collapse in on itself.
He was gone.
You stayed there, for what felt like an eternity, unable to tear yourself away from his side. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of his hand, even though you knew he was no longer there to hold it. The warmth of his skin was already starting to fade, but you still clung to it, as though holding on to him would keep him with you forever.
The quiet in the room was deafening, a silence so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming sorrow that threatened to drown you. But in the quiet, you could still hear his voice, still feel the warmth of his love in your chest.
I love you, he had said. And that was all that mattered now. That was all you could hold onto.
The nurses came in, gently moving you aside, but you didn’t care. They tried to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but nothing would ever be okay again. You had lost the person you loved most in the world, and no one could take that pain away.
Hours passed. Or was it days? You couldn’t remember anymore. The world outside continued to turn, the snow continuing to fall, but all you could think about was him. Megumi. Your Megumi.
The man you loved with every part of you. The man who had been your best friend, your lover, your everything. And now he was gone, and you were left with nothing but the aching emptiness of his absence.
You didn’t leave the hospital that night. You stayed there, next to him, holding his hand, telling him you loved him over and over. You didn’t know if he could hear you. You didn’t know if it mattered.
You just needed him to know. He had been the love of your life, and you would carry that love with you forever. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you’d forget, you would never forget him.
The days that followed were a blur of sadness and quiet moments of reflection. The funeral. The family. The friends who came and went, offering their condolences, their words of sympathy. But none of it mattered. Not without him.
Winter gave way to spring, the snow melting and the world coming back to life, but you felt like you were still stuck in the cold. The world had moved on, but you were stuck in that one moment, in that one room, with Megumi.
It was as if time had frozen the moment he left, and you couldn’t break free from it.
But still, you held on to him. You held on to the love he had given you, the smile he had worn for you, and the life you had shared together. Because that was all you had left.
And no matter how much the world tried to take it away from you, you would never forget him.
You will never forget Megumi.
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SOME DAYS ARE EASIER THAN OTHERS, YOU NURSES THINK. But today was not one of those days. Somehow, the days seemed to slip away like water through your fingers, and the world around you grew hazier with each passing moment.
You didn’t know the date, the year, or even your own name anymore. Sometimes, when the nurses spoke to you, you’d hear their voices and understand their words, but the world beyond that seemed so far away.
But there was one thing you could never forget. No matter how much time passed or how much your memory faded, there was always him.
His face, his eyes. Those blue-green eyes that shone with a warmth that made your heart flutter even now. They felt so familiar and yet you couldn’t remember who they belonged to. Who this man was. And yet, you always felt at ease when you painted him. You always felt like life was beautiful, when he stared back at you.
It didn’t matter if you couldn’t remember all of it. How you’ll repeatedly ask what you did and who you met. Or what you were thinking about and or what you wanted to eat. That didn’t matter. All you knew was that whenever you had a brush in your hand, whenever you felt the quiet pull of the canvas, it was his face you painted. It was always him.
It had become a ritual of sorts. The nurses would often find you at the small desk in your room, your hands trembling as you carefully added strokes of color to the canvas. Sometimes it was a portrait.
Everyone could see his strong jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his lips curled into a gentle smile. Other times, it was an abstract piece, his image lost in swirls of color and light. But it was always him.
No one ever questioned it. The staff knew you were once a famous artist, known for your ability to capture the most subtle emotions in a single stroke. Perhaps that’s why they never seemed surprised to see you lost in your own world, creating pieces of art that you couldn’t fully understand anymore. 
But they saw the joy in your eyes when you painted him, and that was enough. It was more than enough. You were suffering already, in so many ways. What is letting you have some little joy in the things you painted? And so one afternoon, as you carefully placed another layer of paint on the canvas, one of the nurses peeked in. 
"How’s the painting today?" she asked softly, her voice kind.
You looked up, smiling at her, the brush still poised in your hand. "It’s him again." you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "His eyes… I remember his eyes."
She smiled at you, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You’ve been painting him every day, haven’t you?"
You nodded, not quite understanding why it felt so important to paint him. "He’s got the kindest eyes," you said with a quiet certainty. "The softest face."
She watched you for a moment, her expression filled with understanding. "He must have meant a lot to you."
You blinked, as if the question had never occurred to you. You couldn’t remember the details, couldn’t remember how he had come into your life or who he was, but the feeling that lingered when you thought about him, when you painted him—that you couldn’t deny. It was love. A deep, unshakable love that you could feel, even if you couldn’t understand it completely.
"Yes, I think so." you said, your voice is a little softer now. "He was special. He seems like it."
You looked down at the canvas, the figure of the man emerging once more from the swirls of paint. He had this way of looking at you, even in the paintings—this gentle warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, loved, and understood, even when the rest of the world seemed so distant.
There was peace in that. 
There was a quiet comfort.
The nurse gave a soft smile, nodding her head before quietly excusing herself. But you stayed, lost in your thoughts as your brush moved again, creating another piece of him. Another piece of your memory, even if it was the only one you had left.
It wasn’t about the name. It wasn’t about remembering the details of the past. It was about the feeling, the love that had lived between you two, that was what mattered. The man with the blue-green eyes, the man who had the kindest smile, was the one you could hold onto in your heart, even as everything else slipped away.
As you continued to paint, a small smile curled on your lips. He was with you. In every stroke, in every color, he was there. And as long as you could still remember that love, you would keep painting him.
No matter how many times the world around you faded, you would never forget him.
He had been the brightest part of your life, and even now, in the quiet of the care home, he was the only thing you still held close.
And that made everything a little easier.
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fictionismyreality3 · 2 days ago
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Penpals with the 141
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Warnings: stalkerish behaviour at the end teehee 🤭
Notes: if only I had a hot military man or men to send letters to 🤷🏻‍♀️😩
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It started out as just another way to keep the boredom away. Sending care packages to military members was also a plus. You'd be staying busy and doing a good deed at the same time. You found some trustworthy-enough organization, signed up, and sent out your first letter along with a few goodies like choclates and warm socks.
The 141 had never really thought much about getting care packages from civilians. In their eyes it was just a good way to get the things they missed out on while on deployment. Most of the letters got tossed as soon as they opened the box.
That was until they got yours.
The stupid little smiley face drawn on the cardboard shouldn’t have stopped Simon in his tracks, but he found himself staring down at the doodle.
"L.T? Y'been standin' there fer a good 15 minutes." Soap remarked.
"S'that your favourite candy, right?"
Soap was swayed by the chocolate oranges, finding himself reading your letter as he scarfed down each wedge. The curly handwriting, the crossed out and rewritten words had him showing the letter to Gaz, and then Price. Soon you found yourself in an almost penpal situation. Over the exchange of more and more letters, you were able to dicern the personalities of each man who was writing to you.
There was Soap, who wrote in barely legible chicken scratch, often skipping words or even entire sentences, like he was thinking too fast for his hand to keep up. Always calling you 'bonnie' or 'lass'.
Gaz, who wrote much more formally. His hand writing was the best to read, neatly printed on the lines of the paper. You got the sense that he sat down and put his whole attention into writing back to you.
Ghost, who's name you were yet to learn, tacked on his responses at the end of the paper. It was rare to get more than a few sentances from him, and even rarer for them to be anything but small talk. Slowly, he began to open up, asking you how you were or if your boss had resolved that HR issue yet. How did he know that?
Price, who'd quickly insisted on you calling him John— makes me feel old, luv— was the one who you seemed the most interested in your life. You chalked it up to him wanting to have something to think about other than his life threatening job.
Questions about your living situation, your job, your hobbies, it all seemed like small talk. Easy enough to look over. And then came the questions about your bills. Does your job pay enough? When's the last time you've been on vacation? What does your ideal living situation look like? Are you in a relationship?
It wasn't just John who was asking. So we’re Gaz, Johnny, and even Ghost began to inquire about more personal details. Every time you got a letter, it was almost a pavlovian response for your cheeks to blush. You looked forwards to the letters from your far away military men, and they even sent you gifts!
A watch, just like the one on your pinterest, wrapped up in a pretty pink bow. They added on such a sweet note too.
"Synced up to our watches." Ghost.
"Thought you needed a little treat." Gaz
"Here you go, bonnie! Now you can know when we're awake!" Soap.
"Let me know if you need it tightened, sweetheart." John.
They didn't feel the need to tell you about the favour they called in with Laswell to get the micro-tracker added, or about the camera and microphone they planted in the watch face. You looked so pretty with it on anyways, they'd need to make sure nobody stared too long.
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thelov3lybookworm · 2 days ago
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Belonging with them
Day 3: Belonging.
Summary: He knew where he belonged now.
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Word Count: 1150
Warnings: azzie continues being jelly of kaden lolll
A/n: i love hazel sm yall dont get it 🥺 this fic is based on a short i saw on yt and the dad is like the biggest hunk and gave such cassian vibes and he genuinely cried 🥺 i was gonna write this fic for cassian but then i decided to give this to azzie cus he deserves to cry hehe
(if you dont know hazel and kaden, theyre from my mini series overprotective bat. it was a 2 part series which can be found on my azriel masterlist. all the fic in this week will be revolving around these two cuties hehe)
@azrielappreciationweek
ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
"I don’t really know where I fit in anymore."
"I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries and I’m not sure of that, either."
The day he had said those words to Feyre seemed like a lifetime away, as if experienced in a dream centuries ago when he was younger and could not differentiate between reality and what his brain had conjured up. But he knew, it had merely been five years.
The five years he had cherished the most in his life.
He loved his family. He adored the way Rhys and Cassian bickered during their annual snowball fight, the way Amren found a way to slide in a snide remark at every dinner, the way Mor would always be ready to go partying. Above all, he adored how all his family including the Archeron sisters would be ready to help him and be there for him any day. Even in the middle of the night when he did not want to wake up his wife but knew he needed someone to help him with his crying daughter.
But… they did not complete him. He loved them to bits and would readily give his life for them… before he met his now wife and decided she was the one he would spend his life with, mating bond be damned. He had lost all hopes of finding his mate back then after waiting for five centuries.
Imagine his shock when on their wedding day, he felt another thread of gold tying him to his wife.
Now as he sat watching his daughter pet a purring Nuts lounging on the low table in front of him while explaining to him how tea was made, he smiled.
He had found his place of belonging. And it was with his wife and daughter.
Of course, there had to be that boy trying to take his daughter away from him. What was his name? Kade? Kaden? Azriel thought bitterly.
He knew he was being dramatic. His daughter was barely four years at this point, no four year old was going to steal her away.
Hazel turned to Azriel, making him focus all his attention on her. He offered her a smile when she handed him a small pink cup.
"What is this?" He asked, bringing the empty toy to his lips.
She shot him an incredulous look. "It’s the tea you ordered daddy."
"Oh, yeah sorry, I was thinking about something."
She shook her head. "Stop thinking and focus, daddy. Kaden always pays attention."
Azriel stilled.
I am being compared to a four year old boy now? What has life come to.
He sighed, mumbling out an apology even though all he wanted to do was tell her to stay away from that boy.
He did not want to be forced to go apologise again.
She began fumbling with the littered toys on the desk once more, completely ignoring Azriel in favour of mumbling instructions to Nuts, as if teaching him how to cook.
As he watched her move over to the huge armchair and place a cup on it, conversing with what Azriel could only hope was not spirits of the deceased, his curiosity peaked.
Maybe it was a bad idea, but he needed to make sure that she was not getting overly friendly with Kaden.
"Hazel, this tea is amazing." He waited till she giggled before continuing. "By the way, how’s school?"
It was daycare to help her get accustomed to going to school next year, but Hazel insisted she was a big girl and attended big girl school.
"It’s fine. Miss Black gave me a gold star yesterday because I helped her." Hazel was focused on the air she was stirring in her red pot as she talked, lips pursed slightly in concentration.
"Hmm. Who’s your best friend?"
Please don’t say Kaden. Not Kaden. Please.
She turned around to glare at him, and he wondered if by any chance he had said the words aloud. But he knew he hadn’t. Azriel wouldn’t let himself speak without permission from himself.
Her brows bunched up, lips pouting and eyes narrowed, she looked as offended as an old grandma being told her grandchild was full and did not want more food.
"Daddy, it’s you. You’re my best friend." She rolled her eyes.
Azriel watched. He simply watched her return back to stirring her pot.
Cassian had been the one to teach her the eye rolling. Azriel had been amused. Seeing a child barely reaching his knees roll her eyes at him like she had lived five lives was nothing short of funny.
But right now, it felt anything but.
It’s you daddy.
His eyes were prickling, that was his first conscious thought after long moments of silence in his head. His vision was getting blurry, throat clogging. Tell tale signs of a sob session oncoming. But he could not bring himself to care as he stared at this little faeling, who did not even realise what she had done.
You’re my best friend.
Azriel simply sat back against the couch, the cushions pressing against his bare back, and let the tears have their way on his skin.
I’m her best friend.
Even despite the emotions Hazel had brought forth, somewhere in the back of his mind Azriel was rejoicing that her best friend was not Kaden.
Guess I’m never beating the territorial illyrian accusations.
The shadows settled down on his shoulders, swirling softly against his skin as they too watched Hazel play and pet Nuts occasionally. They did not inform him of his wife’s arrival in the living room. They did not have to. He simply felt when her presence was near. The all consuming feeling of love growing stronger in his chest being another indicator.
"Hazel, it’s bath time baby. Let’s go."
Hazel huffed as if what Y/n had said was the most outrageous thing ever. "Mommy, I can’t leave yet. There are customers."
Azriel practically felt his wife’s eyes narrow. "Daddy can attend to your customers."
Hazel turned to look at Azriel pleadingly, her eyes wide and placating before they filled with shock. "Daddy why are you crying!"
Y/n drew closer. "Azzie?"
Azriel blinked, smiling up at his wife before picking up his daughter. "It’s nothing. Just some dust."
Hazel turned to scowl at Nuts. "I told you to clean up properly. Now see, because of you my daddy is crying."
Azriel huffed out a laugh, pressing his lips to her round cheek.
"Let’s go shower baby. I’ll even get your toys, yeah?"
Azriel’s gaze swung to Y/n at the end of his sentence. She gave him a knowing smile.
"Can Nuts come too? Please daddy, mommy!"
"Fine, but no splashing." Y/n pointed a finger at the father-daughter duo, eyebrows raised.
Hazel had begun to whine, but even she knew not to argue when mommy was serious.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
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white--moon · 2 days ago
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"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.
He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.
Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.
It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.
He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."
He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."
He's expecting Ichigo to turn this into a You're Not Going To Die conversation, but instead it circles into maybe Ichigo dying instead. It drops a stone into his guts. Maybe he shouldn't be allowing Ichigo to get himself involved. Maybe he should be trying harder to push Ichigo away, so he stays out of it, out of harm. On the other side of things; Ichigo's very profession puts him in danger and if Shiro's not selfishly taking up his time now he might not get to later if Ichigo gets himself killed. "You better not." He doesn't even know what he'd do, but it wouldn't be good.
He snorts at the mild offense Ichigo takes at his description of Ichigo's day job. "No, you're right, that is pretty cool. You gonna write a book, then? So in three hundred years some stranger you can't comprehend right now can perceive you? Maybe I need to write a book." He's not going to write a book. That's way too much sitting still for his brain to tolerate. His brows go up a little bit. "Yes I have been and I have no regrets and no intentions of stopping now."
The fact Ichigo wants to go shopping with him at all is a little surprising, but not because he seriously thinks Ichigo judges his fashion sense. Just more the spending time together thing. It's been startling easy to fall into a comfortable companionship again. And sure, they're side stepping and ignoring some really big things, but the company is still easy. "I knew that. You're just being a shit." He's not great at tolerating that.
His attention corners when he feels like Ichigo's looking at him. He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder. "I get it. This isn't the best place to be right now anyway." It's too hard to defend, too hard to properly monitor and barricade. He's not dumb. "Do you actually want me going on that job?" He made a bit of a fuss about it, but he doesn't need invited out of pity. He can entertain himself. He's just scared that if they part now, it'll be the last time they see each other. He shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't. Why do you seem like you're trying to push for that? I would'a said that's what I wanted if that's what I wanted. I have no trouble speakin' my mind."
For a second, while he watches Ichigo look over his car, he wonders what they'll do if it's rigged. Call in Ichigo's team, he supposes. But Ichigo slides out from under the SUV and gives him the go ahead. He turns to a lockbox on the wall and punches in a code, then pulls the keys off a hook and closes the box again. He uses the remove to unlock it as he walks toward the vehicle.
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daretoassume · 2 days ago
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“it would’ve happened anyway”
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there are people who brush off their own power by saying this after knowing about loa and getting their desires to show up. they think that something miraculous should happen before it is considered a successful manifestation.
the fact that your inner narrative is telling you "it would've happened anyway" means YOU KNOW. you have the inner knowing. it happened because, subconsciously, you commanded your mind that you must have it; therefore, you got your desire.
i was reading this book called transurfing in 78 days, and it said,
"don't forget to tell yourself that the technique is actually working. the rational mind needs to hear you affirming it because it constantly doubts: can i really be capable of that?"
from all the life experiences you've gone through, it might've taught you that things couldn't be that easy or are just too good to be true because our brain reacts strongly to negative information as a survival mechanism.
this instinct to dismiss manifestations as mere coincidence or luck is a natural part of human psychology. it is rooted in the way our minds have evolved, prioritizing caution and skepticism as tools for survival.
i have noticed that people who fully trust in their power don’t look for "miraculous" signs. instead, they rely on an inner knowing. they hold a steady confidence that what they desire is done, and it's just a matter of time for physical reality to align.
the more you brush off what you created, the more you neglect what you are actually capable of.
if you think back on all the "coincidences" and "luck" you have experienced, know that you were actually in a particular mindset or feeling state when these things occurred. often, you have already claimed something subconsciously before it shows up.
your mind has been trained, perhaps without you realizing it, to believe in certain outcomes, and these beliefs shape your experiences. it’s simply your rational mind protecting you, keeping you in survival mode.
once your desires physically show up, instead of thinking, "well, it would've happened anyway,"
you can remind yourself, “i created this.”
feel the power you hold and own it because it’s yours. you will be much more aligned with your ability to consciously manifest. don’t you think that this just opens up more possibilities of experiencing what you consider "luck" or "coincidence?"
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vxsellie · 13 hours ago
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KINDLY, DARLIN' - 𝐸.𝑊
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summary. after seemingly endless days on the road, you find yourself at a random country bar in the middle of nowhere. entering with the sole goal of getting your hands on come kind of alcohol, your attention is soon drawn elsewhere. to a girl and her guitar. notes. ok funny story! this idea came to me from a 5 sec interaction i had with a complete stranger. i went out to a bar, gave ten bucks to the singer, & he said the line that the title is based off of , which the prompted my brain to conjure up an entire love story (he's prob double my age lets be so fr) Also! idk if any of u will like this comparison (if not, just ignore this). but, as i wrote this, i imagined ellie's voice like lucy gray's from the hunger game's. like the slight country drawl, strong vocals, yes yes yes yes Also x2! anyone who follows me should know that im absolute SHITTT at writing smut. but, for some reason, that doesn't seem to stop me from creating works of garbage for my own amusement. anyway, if you reach the smut & realize that it's literal trash, i won't blame u for clicking off of this. just a warning! warnings. brief mention of creepy old men at the bar, depictions of alcohol, public flirting ???, eventual smut, drunk sex in a bathroom LMAO, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r!receiving) wc. 5.1k
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𝓕uck your back hurts. Well, if you're being honest, everything hurts. Your neck, back, stomach, legs, hands. Everything that's capable of aching, does.
However, rather unfortunately, you suppose that's to be expected after driving for nigh two days straight in your shitty truck. It's a 90s pickup, the white paint peeling and the tires in desperate need of care. The beige seats are worn and stained, evidence of age having taken its toll on your poor vehicle.
In spite of your truck's needs, you're far more interested in your own ⎯ getting a damn drink.
You're currently coasting through the backroads of some small western town, streets made of dirt and buildings all decrepit. You've never heard of this place before, the name having already slipped your mind due to how utterly foreign it'd been to your mind.
Your headlights cast a yellow glow onto the dirt before you, your tires crunching against fallen leaves and loose rocks. You pass gas stations, wooden homes, dollar stores, an immeasurable amount of churches, and no liquor store. Most shop signs are staked into the dirt, the few billboards all dilapidated in some way ⎯ broken letters, flickering lights, or completely torn from the ground somehow.
Then, by either the grace of God or a wondrous turn of fate, your eyes stutter on a certain sign. A broken wooden one advertising a bar. Your interest is instantly piqued, wheel turning toward the building without hesitation.
You don't give yourself the chance to even think before you're hopping out of your truck and walking into the bar.
The moment you push open the wooden double doors, the sound of boisterous laughter and heavy cowboy boots meet your ears. Perfect.
You stand in place for a moment, craning your neck with narrowed eyes are you examine the atmosphere. To the left, there's a bar with almost every stool occupied by an overweight old man. To the right, there's a pair of barn doors with the word 'restrooms' carved into the wood. In the center of the space, there's bucking machine ⎯ a drunk teenage boy holding on for dear life while his group of friends cackle at him from the sidelines.
Then, on the side of the building opposite you, there's a small stage. It's only elevated a foot or so, wood rotting a bit on the edges. But you hardly care for the conditions of the stage itself. What you find yourself drawn to is the person on it.
In the center is a stool, an auburn haired woman perched atop it with an old guitar situated on her lap. She strums the instrument in an upbeat tempo, leaned forward slightly as she sings into the microphone before her. There's a small crowd in front of the stage, girls admiring and boys whistling.
Considering how run-down this town is, you hadn't expected to stumble across a bar that's so fucking packed. There's barely any open stools at the bar, the bathroom doors are rarely sitting still as people continue to pass through them, the mechanical bull being gifted coins non-stop. But you can't complain.
After so long alone on the road, it's nice to be in such an active atmosphere. It's not calming, of course, but you welcome it lovingly nonetheless.
Watching the auburn for a few moments longer, you then turn on your heel and saunter over to the bar. You're forced to sit beside someone as the lack of stools forbids you from not having a neighbor.
"What can I get'cha, hon'?" The bartender asks you with a tip of his cowboy hat. In his other hand, he wipes the outside of an octagonal glass cup.
"Got any whiskey?" You inquire, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop.
"Mhm," He hums, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelves behind the bar. He sets the glass onto the counter with a light clink, popping the bottle open. "'N' how would ya like it?"
"Neat."
He nods once more, pouring the liquid into the glass with a flourish before sliding it across the wood toward you. The moment you grab it, he's turning away to tend to another patron. You drink it quickly, downing the glass in one large swig.
As you place the glass back onto the counter, you feel eyes boring into you. Hoping it's someone of interest to you, you turn only to find a duo of old men chuckling at you. Their cheeks are rosy, bellies full ⎯ therefore likely drunk. You roll your eyes as the bartender refills your glass without a word.
Now with an entirely new bit of determination, you down that glass even faster. Another refill. Another singular gulp. Another refill. Another gulp. Another. Another. Another.
You're now swaying a bit atop your stool, feeling pretty good all things considered. The men continue to gossip among themselves, pointing at your ass. You feel disgusted ⎯ not at yourself, but at them for their fucking audacity. Part of you wants to knock their teeth out. But you're not that drunk.
So, instead, you take the mature approach and simply pick up your glass and exit the scene. As you walk away, you hear their chuckles increase and you suddenly regret not punching them.
Your heavy boots thud against the wooden flooring as you walk aimlessly around the bar. You push through an amass of bodies, everyone too drunk to care for your harsh shoving. Then, before you know it, you find yourself situated in the very front of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand.
The woman's voice is laced with a slight country drawl, her boot tapping against the leg of her stool to count the beats of the song. She nods her head as she sings, a small grin lighting her features.
The dim lighting of the bar doesn't do her justice. But you still manage to notice the freckles that dot her face, the cupids bow to her upper lip, the small scar on her right eyebrow. Or maybe you're just drunk and enamored by her. God, what if she finds you creepy? What if she thinks you're some fucking creep? What if she⎯
She looks at you and you swear your heart gives out right then and there. And, if that weren't enough, she winks. You feel your cheeks heat up and you blame it on the alcohol. You down the rest of your whiskey, suddenly feeling very hot. A light chuckle shakes her chest, ringing throughout the space. Nobody else thinks anything of it, of course, all too drunk and preoccupied to give a shit. But you find yourself fantasizing about all the other ways you could make this woman laugh like that again. Oh fuck you are a creep.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the residual bits of dignity you have left, you pull twenty bucks from your back pocket and step forward to drop it into her open guitar case.
She raises a brow, tipping her cowgirl hat in your direction with a smirk. "Thank ya kindly, darlin'."
Somehow, she'd managed to thank you in tune with the song, keeping the beat going without missing a second. It's almost impressive. Okay, it's super impressive. In fact, you feel your heart speeding up again, mind playing on loop the sound of her addressing you. Her country drawl, her smirk, her long fingers grabbing the bridge of her hat. Fuck.
Impulsively, you end up turning on your heel and heading right back to that damn bar. The bartender just grins as he pours you another serving, likely having noticed the flush to your cheeks and the desperation of which you placed the glass down.
"Mind if I give y' some advice?" He asks, leaning forward a bit.
In an act of self pity, you don't have the energy to deny him. "Why the hell not?"
"I ain't gotta clue who you're blushin' over, but my advice is that." He nods toward something behind you. You cast a glance over your shoulder, eyes landing on the bucking machine. You almost laugh, turning back to him with an unimpressed expression. "Listen, y' ain't gotta be good. Y' jus' gotta move your hips right n' I swear he's all yours. Trust me. I've seen it work hundreds of times."
You don't dare to correct him on the gender of your current infatuation, instead deciding to take a few more drinks for a bit of liquid courage. I mean, seriously. How else will you get this woman's attention? Plus, what do you have to lose? You'll never see her again after tonight. The least you could do is try.
After another few drinks, you're staggering over to the mechanical bull with a few coins clutched tight in the palm of your hand. The wait for the stupid thing is way longer than necessary, everyone competing for the longest time lasted on the machine.
You lean your empty hand on the frame of the wooden fence that encircles the rider, watching with reddened eyes as yet another person is flung onto the ground with a heavy thud. He rubs his head with a groan, though his sounds of pain quickly fade into laughter as he brushes off his jeans and stands upright, returning to his boisterous friends with a crooked grin.
Unease begins to lick up your spine, the logical part of your brain wondering why the fuck you're doing this for some country chick you don't even know the name of. You're strong, sure, but your luck would lead you to breaking your neck.
You look over your shoulder casting a glance in the direction of the bar. The bartender gives you two thumbs up, flashing you a grin with missing teeth. As encouraging as that is, what really pushes you to continue is seeing those two old men. They're sitting side-by-side, lustrous smirks on their face as they stare at you, leaning over every few seconds to mutter something in the other's ear. Yeah. Fuck them. You're doing this.
As you make it to the front of the line, you're overcome with naught but confidence. Whether that be due to the sound of the woman's singing growing nearer or the sight of the gross old men, you don't know. Though, honestly, it's likely because of the sheer amount of whiskey you've downed in the past hour.
"Coins." The blonde woman demands, palm of her hand facing you like a bill you've been avoiding. You place the coins into her hand and she opens the gate, hinges squealing as the prior rider stumbles out with a streak of dirt under her eye.
You walk into the ring, feet staggering a bit already from your drunkenness. You hoist yourself onto the bull, situating yourself until you feel a bit less awkward atop the back of the metal animal.
It begins rocking slowly back and forth. You find it easy at first, not really needing to use your hands. You still do, though, not much trusting the machine to not throw you off the moment you let your guard down. It picks up the speed, more. More. More. More. And, before you know it, it's thrashing back and forth. You hold onto the saddle, a dazed smile spreading across your face as you find yourself having fun.
It spins in a circle, your eyes suddenly catching on the woman on stage. She has the perfect view of you from her pedestal, her stool bringing her higher than the crowd just as the bull brings you.
She's still singing into the mic, her voice drowned out by the sound of chatter and cheers ⎯ though you're not sure if they're directed toward you or her at this point.
You've stayed on longer than you anticipated, the ache in your back returning as the bull yanks and dives under you. But you hold on, suddenly remembering the bartender's advice. You don't want to switch up whatever tactic you accidentally built into habit, but the point of this is to get the woman's attention.
So you wait until it spins back around. Then, while her eyes are pinned to yours, you shift a bit, back moving more fluidly as you roll your hips against it. Nobody else would think anything of it, the act so subtle that you simply appear to have altered your position. But she noticed. You know she did. Because her voice caught in her throat, causing her to have to take a sip from her water and apologize into the mic before resuming.
Your confidence spikes at this, suddenly feeling much more egoistical than you did when she was a complete stranger you made eye contact with once. Now you know you have an effect on her.
So you do it again, maintaining eye contact as you roll your hips against the bull suggestively.
Just as before, nobody else pays any mind, far too focused on the fact that you're stayed on for so long to give a fuck about technique. Honestly, if anyone were to notice, it'd be those creepy old men. And, hopefully, they're aware that it's pointed at this woman and now them. Though you doubt they'd care. Creeps like them rarely do.
The singer, with her eyes now pinned to you ⎯ though, everyone's now are ⎯ switches her tone a bit. Her song alters from an upbeat bar tempo with little meaning to having more directed lyrics to a girl with mesmerizing eyes. Again, nobody else picks up on this. She sings about a random girl with stunning eyes, never digressing past that.
But you know; and she knows. And that's all that matters.
She sings a certain line, something more lustful about the way you look at her. Something suggestive about the way she's imagining you. You instantly falter, your grip slipping.
You fall to the ground with a thud, the entire bar making a sound of disappointment and empathy. You don't care, though, not giving a single damn about the bull riding. All you care for is that fucking singer.
You hit the ground, breath knocked from your lungs. You cough, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Your head spins, the alcohol finally catching up to you. Another cough is yanked from your heaving chest as you groan.
The blonde coin-collecting woman allows the next person into the ring, not waiting for you to give your say. As the next man enters, he offers you his hand. You, desperate for assistance, take it with a grateful smile. He hauls you to your feet, muttering quick compliments on your performance on the bull. You thank him before brushing past him and exiting the ring with staggering steps.
A few people from the crowd compliment you, offering words of encouragement for the 'next time you go up'. You give them half-hearted smiles, chest still aching slightly from your fall.
You shove through the crowd, nearing the restrooms you'd seen at the entrance. You push the doors open and head into the women's side.
You brace your hands on the edge of the sink, glancing in the mirror for a brief moment ⎯ examining the small cut on your cheekbone and the bruises that are beginning to form on your shoulder and hip. You then lean down, positioning your mouth under the faucet before turning on the water. You drink it, relishing in the taste of cool liquid rather than burning alcohol.
"Mm, look who it is."
You smack your head on the faucet with how quickly you straighten. You groan, rubbing your temple as you turn to face the person standing behind you. The singer. Well fuck, that makes the head smack twenty times more embarrassing.
Somehow, she's even more alluring up close. Her pale green eyes bore into you, lashes lidding them slightly. Her skin is lightly tanned, freckles likely produced from a life spent under the sun. Her forearm has a tattoo covering the rippled skin there, lean muscles adorning the rest of said arm.
You play off your staring by narrowing your eyes at her, "Followin' me, are ya?"
"Nah." She shakes her head, stepping forward to wash her hands in the sink beside yours. She tips her head down, looking at her hands as she scrubs, hat coming to block her face from your view. Unfortunate. "Jus' comin' t' wash the filth off my hands. I wouldn't worry, though, darlin', I'm sure that Smilton boy'll check up on ya."
Your brows furrow at this. "Smillin boy?"
"Smilton." She corrects you rather harshly, looking up to meet your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Farmer's boy. Rich. Brunette. Helped y' up after the bull."
Realization hits you like a brick. She's jealous. This woman that you've never met, this woman that you stressed over impressing, this woman that you bruised yourself to get the attention of. She's jealous because some farmer's boy helped you stand up. A smirk tugs at your lips, an idea lighting your mind.
"Hmm," You hum lowly, brushing past her to dry your hands on one of the scratchy white towelettes. "He is quite handsome, ain't he?"
"Suppose." She replies shortly.
Your smirk only deepens, drying your hands achingly slow. Because you know she's aware that she has no right to be jealous. And that only serves to make her more pissed off. How interesting.
"What's his first name, if y' don't mind me askin'?" You speak casually, talking with her as though everything that passed between you two prior to this hadn't happened at all. It's driving her insane and you can tell.
"I dunno." She says, turning the faucet off to dry her hands beside you. "Somethin' with a J?"
"Oh, c'mon," you coo, turning to her with those eyes you know she adores. "I know y' know more than jus' his last name."
She looks away, clearing her throat with a set jaw, "you're right. Know his first initial too. It's a J."
You chuckle lightly, releasing the towelette to trace your fingertips along the soft skin of her bicep. "Yeah? And what's your first initial?"
Her entire body seems to tense, breath hitching in reaction to your touch. She looks at you from under the bridge of her hat, green eyes glinting with something informal. Something unfit for a casual conversation between two strangers in the women's rest room. You feel your heart stutter at the sight, having to make an effort not to fall to your knees before her in this very moment.
"E," is all she whispers.
"Last name?" You whisper back, matching her for quietude.
"Williams." She manages.
You hum, eyes following the movements of your hand. Had you not been so drunk, you'd likely never have the balls to be so flirty to her. But, as it turns out, your intoxication is good for something. Well, something aside from staying on some metal bull.
"How pretty," you whisper, leaning forward so your mouth is now right beside her ear. Your breath fans across her skin as you continue. "Now tell me your full name, will ya?"
Her eyes are pinned to your face, pupils tracing your features as your hand traces her arm. She finds herself mesmerized by you, entranced by your every detail ⎯ the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, the arc of your brow, the height of your cheekbones, the line of your jaw. She imagines running her tongue along each of these points, imagines committing your to memory using naught but her mouth.
"Ellie." She replies finally, watching closely as your eyes raise to meet hers. Her heart stutters in her chest at that, as it always does when you make eye contact.
Your gaze flicks between her eyes and lips, hand slowly inching up her arm. "Ellie?"
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue is enough to send a spark of heat to her core. That paired with the way your fingers are lightly tracing up, up, up. You move your hand over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and finally rests to cup her cheek in your palm. She leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.
"You're such a fuckin' tease," she mutters, voice low as it's weighed down by desire and a deep need to feel your skin on hers.
You ignore her words and move to lean in close enough that your noses brush. Then, with your breath fanning across her skin, you ask, "this okay?"
She doesn't say anything, instead abandoning the towelette completely and grabbing your face in both her hands. With a sudden sense of ferocity, she presses her lips to yours, pulling your body flush against hers.
"I'll take that as a yes," you chuckle between kisses.
"Quiet," she murmurs, too needy for your touch to have time for conversation. As much as she loves hearing you talk, shed much rather talk via action rather than actual words.
You giggle against her lips, your arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She hums, hat falling to the tiled floor with a light brush. With each passing second, her actions become more and more desirous, suddenly pushing your back against the nearest wall. You let out a huff of air from the impact, your lips quirking up to form a small smile, regaled by Ellie's sudden desperation for you.
She tilts her head, peppering kisses down your chin and along your jaw. They're harsh and hungry, nipping your skin in some places purely to see your brow furrow at the feel of her teeth.
As she trails down to your neck, you tip your head back against the wall and open your eyes to blink up at the wooden ceiling. Your hands fist Ellie's hair as she leaves bruises down the column of your throat.
Still well and drunk, the room swirls around you. The lights seem to shift with each blink, making this all so much more intoxicating. Your nerves are already on edge due to the alcohol, so the feel of Ellie kissing them is absolutely maddening.
You feel as she presses kisses along your collarbone, tongue grazing the taut skin there. You shift, legs pressing together as she grows more sensual in her act of quick intimacy. This movement doesn't go unnoticed by her, however, her lips quirking into a small smile against your skin as she feels rather proud of how quick she's turned you to putty under her.
She moves across the bare skin of your chest, plump lips taking time to memorize each detail that adorns you. You move again, the heat between your legs growing harder to ignore.
"Patience, darlin'." She instructs. "I'll get there when I get there."
You frown at this, "well get there faster."
Her kisses suddenly cease, looking up at you through her lashes. She tilts her head at you innocently, blinking as she waits for you to correct yourself. To reword your restive demand. "Don't be rude, now."
You can feel your dignity push at the back of your throat, pride yearning for a moment to speak. Seeing as you're normally the one making orders, this feels quite stranger. But, after the long journey you've taken, you suppose you've earned a bit of time to sit back and let someone else take the lead.
Ellie draws a line of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, kneeling before you as her head comes to situate itself in front of your waistband. You can't help but admire how she looks from here, hair in your hands as her eyes are pinned to your denim jeans as though it's a buffet and she's a man starved. After a moment, she lifts her head to look at you.
Eye contact. Sparks shoot through your body. Somehow, something as simplistic as meeting Ellie's gaze can make you feel indescribably nervous. Pale green irises bore into you, waiting for you to utter words of consent. You do so, giving her the go-ahead.
As soon as you do, Ellie wastes no time hooking her fingers through your belt loops and pulling your jeans to your knees. She leans forward, eyes lidded.
"Wait." You pant, tugging on her hair to halt her movements. She seems rather annoyed by your sudden interruption, but looks up at you kindly despite her own irritation. You rolls your eyes at her evident pique. "What if someone walks in?"
She sighs heavily at that. "I locked the door."
"Oh, okay." You nod. Though, just as she's about to lean forward again, you stop her once more. "Wait. How did you know to lock it? You were all pissy when you first came in here."
"I didn't know." She explains hastily. "I simply hoped."
You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly at her admittance. Then, finally, you don't stop her when she leans forward.
She traces her tongue along the outside of your underwear, the fabric between you only adding to the pulsing in your pussy. A shiver wracks through you, causing Ellie to grab you by the hips to hold you still. She traces circles into your hips with her thumbs, a gentle motion when compared to the needy movements of her tongue as she draws small circles into your clit.
You tighten your grip on her hair, drawing a grunt from the back of her throat. The vibrations from her mouth against your pussy makes it hard to keep back your own noises.
When she finally shifts your panties to the side, you nearly collapse at the feel of her mouth against you. She licks a long stripe up your vulva, a shaky breath yanking from you. The sound only urges her further, taking one hand and drags her middle finger up your center. You shift, leaning heavily against the wooden walls as standing upright suddenly seems impossible. Then, without warning, two fingers shove right into your hole.
Your hips jolt, moving far more than initially seeing as Ellie is now only holding on with one hand. Whilst thrusting her fingers in and out of your needy pussy, her tongue circles your clit with that same neediness, mirroring you for desperation.
Your head falls back, thudding lightly against then wall. At the sound, Ellie ceases. You almost whine at her sudden stopping.
"My eyes are down here, darlin'." She says lowly. "Let me see you."
Begrudgingly, you oblige, lowering your head to make eye contact with Ellie. She's on her knees, legs folded against tiled flooring as she resumes her lapping. You huff out an airy moan as you have to actively stop yourself from tipping your head back again. She holds your gaze the entire time, adding to the intensity of the feel. Her eyes are lidded, shoulder moving as her fingers recommence.
This all paired with your dizzy head and swimming vision makes for quite the climax, core knotting progressively as Ellie doesn't dare to stop. "Fuck," you pant as you buck your hips against her face, forced to watch as you do so. With another heavy breath and an arching back, you utter, "I'm⎯"
She seems exponentially proud as she hears you say this, regardless of if you finish your sentence or not. She pauses only for a moment to say, "yeah?"
"Mhm," you hum, though it comes out more of a moan than anything.
"Do it, darlin'."
And you do, coming undone right atop her face. She, admittedly, relishes in it, hydrated only by what you're able to provide her with. You see stars and they're swimming too, circling your head in a celestial body of pleasure. And Ellie watches, for once allowing your head to fall back as she deems this a one time exception. Because there will be a next time.
You're panting as you lower your head to face her once more, her gaze never having left your expression. She makes out with your pussy sensually as to bring you down from your high. Then, as gently as she can, she situates your panties back on correctly and pulls your jeans to rest as your hips, remaining knelt in front of you as she zips and buttons them just as she'd found them.
You watch with a twinkle of fondness behind your irises, unable to look away from the expression of adoring concentration she wears. She then uses your hips as a support system to haul herself back to her feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You can nigh taste yourself on her.
"Not bad for a stranger at a sketchy bar." You muse, picking her hat from the floor and situating it atop her auburn tufts of hair. She watches you, analyzing your every move.
"I'm not just a stranger." She reminds you as your eyes find hers, your hands coming to drape around her shoulders. "I'm a stranger who wrote a song about you."
"Mm," you hum, "so you're a stalkers stranger?"
"I prefer the term passionate." She says, shooting you a playful scowl.
You chuckle, "passionate for what? Stalking and preying on drunken women?"
"Pfft-" She scoffs. "You're not drunk."
For a moment, you consider agreeing with her. To save her the pain of realizing you hadn't been sober for this. But you know better than to lie to her. So, through lidded eyes ⎯ ones that should have been a rather telltale sign of your intoxication ⎯ you give her a look, not even needing to voice the truth aloud for her to understand.
"Well fuck." She groans, taking a step backward and causing your arms to fall to your sides.
Frankly, you'd expected her to be much more angered than that. Because you know you would be. After writing a song, chasing down, then tongue-fucking someone in the bathroom, the worst news to receive would be that they'd been wasted the entire time.
"I'm sorry," you're quick to apologize, for some reason feeling the need to earn her forgiveness.
"How're you planning to get home?" She asks.
"I hadn't thought about that." You admit.
"How about this," she suggests, "I give you a place to stay to apologize for fucking you while drunk and you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to apologize for not telling me beforehand. Deal?"
A smirk works its way to your mouth, "deal."
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⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel
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dadbodbuck · 2 days ago
Note
WE'RE BREAKING UP
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WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME.
WHY WOULD YOU TYPE THIS WORDS WITH YOUR FINGERS AND THEN PRESS POST.
GET AWAY FROM ME
hi jack unfortunately we got married when you weren't looking so you have to pay for an attorney :/
anyway
Buck texts him I need to talk to you and Christopher knows it’s going to be a bad day. He was actually thinking about coming home over Thanksgiving break—it’s not as clean as going back over Christmas, but he misses Denny (who’s been telling him a lot about his cool new sister during their nightly meme exchange), and he misses his school friends (even if they’re exhausting to be around sometimes), and worst of all he misses his family. He misses his dad, he misses Buck. He even misses Tommy—despite only having met him a few times, he knows he’s been good for Buck and for his dad. 
He liked seeing his dad smiling so much when he first started hanging out with Tommy, before her. He liked the way Tommy talked to him like an adult with his own thoughts and opinions. He liked the way Tommy talked about Buck, even though it was kind of gross seeing a grown man swoon that much.
But then. I need to talk to you. And it all comes crumbling down around him. Buck even has the nerve to follow it up with Can I call you? like some sort of therapist or school administrator. Chris opts for a video call, because he’s not eighty years old, and when Buck picks up, his eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale, and he’s nestled in his bed like a stereotypical teenager girl after she gets dumped.
Oh. Oh no. “What,” Chris says, and he kind of regrets the video call now, because Buck flinches back like he’s been physically hit.
“Uh, hey!” Buck says, trying to recover and failing miserably. The smile he plasters on his face looks so forced it’s painful, “How’s Texas in November treating you?”
Chris looks at Buck and decides to play nice. Just a little. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you sounded like you had something important to talk about.”
“You’re right,” Buck sighs, “I’m procrastinating. I just wanted to let you know that Tommy and I have decided not to see each other anymore.”
And, yeah, Chris is pretty sure he knew this was coming, but it still makes him want to cry, or bite something, or throw his phone into the lake. “What happened?”
“Well—uh—Chris, I don’t—the details really aren’t important,” Buck says, with a wince, “What is important is that I love you, and your dad loves you, and just because Tommy won’t be around doesn’t mean you won’t have our support. I’m really sorry, bud. I know you liked him.”
It blindsides Chris, and he doesn’t know why. He should’ve seen this coming a mile away. He shouldn’t have gotten attached. He never should have sat down to watch The Batman with his dad and Tommy and stolen Tommy’s popcorn and talked shit on Buck’s taste in Star Wars Prequels. 
“What did you do?” Chris asks, feeling a startling rage building in his throat. It’s familiar, now. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows this is Buck’s fault. Buck looks like a dog that pissed on the carpet and is waiting for you to step on the wet spot.
Buck clears his throat, and visibly weighs truth and comfort in his mind. “I asked him to move in with me. It was—it was too fast—”
“You asked him to move in with you?” Chris balks, “He has a house!”
“I wasn’t thinking!” Buck hisses, “Listen, I know I fu—messed up. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am, Chris. But it—it was the best decision for both of us.”
“You’re lying,” Chris seethes, because he knows so, so intimately the look of an adult lying to protect his innocence. “He made you happy. He made dad happy.”
Buck looks away, chin trembling, and Chris feels bad for all of three seconds before the rage consumes every other feeling in his chest. “Call me back when you find someone who wants to stay. Otherwise, keep your love life away from me. And maybe you stay away from me too.”
Chris ends the call, and two seconds later Buck is ringing him again. Chris doesn’t pick up, just sets his phone on his desk and buries his face in his arms. He doesn’t want to cry. He did too much of that after he got to El Paso the first time. But he’s going to miss Tommy. He’s going to miss seeing his dad smile like that. He’s going to miss the dopey lovesick way Buck moved through the world.
When Chris finally composes himself, he sees two more missed video calls from Buck, and a string of texts:
Love you, buddy. Sorry you’re upset. Call later to talk? Or call your therapist?
I really am sorry. I thought Tommy was going to stay too.
Text me pls? So I know you’re ok
Chris texts back: im fine. we’ll be fine. i need some time and gets a response almost immediately.
OK. Take the time you need. Your dad says if you decide to come back and you’re still mad you won’t have to see me if you don’t want to
Chris, always being left behind, feels a sick surge of satisfaction at the prospect. He could be the one who leaves. He can cut his losses before they’re fatal, he can amputate the limb before it goes septic. He texts Buck a single k back and does not examine the way something in the back of his head tells him, quite viciously, that this isn’t the first time that Buck’s been left this week.
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mountttmase · 17 hours ago
Text
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Change Of Heart
The End - Part Six
Note - wow, I can’t believe we made it to the end 😭 thank you all so much for reading and for your kind words throughout. I really hoped you enjoyed this as much as I have and thank you again to Elisa for being so patient with me. I’d love to know what you all think and enjoyyyyy
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 10.7k
Warnings - series contains angst & fluff
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Day and night you thought about Mason. About what your life would be like if you got the guts to let him in and tell him how you really felt now but everytime you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Months passed and all you did was fall deeper and deeper for your best friend. Seeing him more often than ever didn’t exactly help the situation either but the fact the pair of you were so domestic just made it all even harder.
You were in a perfect routine with him. Home games with you both in his shirt when you could and away games if they were close by. Dinner together as a family at least twice a week with Mason picking up Gee from nursery every Wednesday to give you some time to yourself but you knew he liked taking her out for treats as well. So much so you pretend you didn’t see anything when she came back with chocolate ice cream stains down her dress as her happy smile made up for all of it.
You wondered if he’d maybe caught onto the fact your feelings had changed. It felt so obvious to you in the way you acted around him now as he made you so nervous and flustered, but if it was obvious then he didn’t say anything. He was still your typical kind and loving Mason and you were trying so hard to be his best friend.
You didn’t know what was holding you back. You were pretty certain he felt the same but it had been so long since you’d heard him say anything of the sort you’d managed to talk yourself into thinking that his feelings had vanished. What exactly did you have to offer him anyway? You were a single mum who was just about getting by when he could no doubt have any girl he laid his eyes on.
That didn’t make you feel any less for him, if anything as the months went by all you did was fall for him more. He made you feel happy and warm and filled your house with so much laughter and love that when he wasn’t around you felt lost. Even when he was by your side you still found yourself drifting off into your own imagination to think about what life would be like if you were an item and right now was no different.
You knew Mason was talking, but the piece of paper in your pocket was burning a hole through your jeans and it wasn’t long before he noticed you were in your own world and bumped your shoulder gently.
‘Y/n? You listening to me?’ He scolded lightly. Turning to face you and he must have picked up on the moody look on your face as his face dropped as soon as you caught eyes. ‘Y/n? What’s wrong’
‘It’s nothing-‘
‘No don’t do that’ he interrupted, placing his arm around your shoulders for a bit of comfort and you had to refrain from nuzzling yourself into him further. ‘You know you can tell me’
‘It’s Gee’s nursery’ you huffed. Figuring you may as well come clean. ‘They’re putting on a parents day thing for Christmas and… I don’t know, I'm just overthinking it too much. You know what this time of years like, it’s all gonna be about families and there’s gonna be all those kids with both parents there for them and-’
‘Stop it. You give Gee everything. You’re mum and dad rolled into one and Gee loves you, she thinks you’re a superhero’ he reassured you and you didn’t realise how much you needed to hear that from him until he’d said it. Your eyes filling with tears as you hid you face away again to take some breaths but he held you the whole time.
‘Will you come? To parents day?’ You asked. His eyebrows shooting straight up in shock but you just sent him a reassuring smile. ‘I know it’s a bit of a weird ask but she’s actually invited you’ you laughed, looking at his confused face as you pulled the invitation out so he could see his name written on the front under yours in Gee’s best attempt at writing. ‘If you’re busy it’s fine but she’s written your name and everything’
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‘Well how can I say no to that huh?’ He laughed and you could tell he was a little emotional about it as his eyes became glossy. ‘I reckon if we asked Woody over we could recreate that picture’ he laughed, trying to mask how emotional he was with a joke. ‘Where is Gee anyway? I’ll go tell her I’m coming’
‘Watching tv, she said she had a long day and needed to unwind’ you told him, rolling your eyes at her sass and he quickly placed a kiss on your head before going to join her.
You joined them too not long after. Laughing as they were both laid on their bellies with their faces in their hands so they could watch tv together and it struck you how alike they were. You always thought Gee could pass as Masons own child but having had him be around consistently for well over a year now they were like little twins.
'Do you wanna stay for dinner?' You asked him, brows raised as you looked over to him but there was an expression on his face you'd never seen before and it made your tummy drop.
'Oh um I can't, I've got plans already' he nodded. Sitting up to face you and scratching the back of his neck as he looked to the floor so you decided to play dumb and see what he said in hopes you could confirm your suspicions.
'Oh, is Woody visiting? You didn't tell me'
'No, it's um… it's no one you know' he shrugged and you knew he was never going to come out with it so you decided to call him out.
‘Wait a minute, are you going on a date?' You asked him and his face told you everything you needed to know. A sinking feeling in your tummy at the realisation but you made sure you kept it together.
'I date, I just don't broadcast it everywhere’ he laughed. Your mind reeling and trying to think back when he may have been out before with someone without you knowing but you shut it off quickly. Not liking how you felt when thinking about him with another girl but thankfully he didn't let you dwell on it as he stood up and gathered his things. 'I better go, I need a shower and everything. Are you alright?'
'Yeah fine, sorry um, have a nice time, yeah? Good luck’ you spluttered, trying to look busy so he couldn't see the heat travelling up your neck but his hand on your wrist made you stop in your tracks.
'Thanks love' he smiled, kissing your forehead quickly just like always but all you felt was sadness.
The rest of the evening went by slowly. You and Gee getting into your pjs after dinner so you could watch some Disney films under a blanket but you couldn’t focus on anything for too long. Thoughts of Mason and who he might be with filled your mind and you’d never felt more miserable.
If he was going out on dates then he’d clearly moved on and left his feelings for you in the past. It's not like you could blame him, you’d never given him a sign that you wanted anything more and he’d waited long enough. He deserved to be happy but it was tearing you apart that it wouldn’t be you that could give him what he needed now.
You were up and out early the next morning as you were meeting Ell for breakfast but you saw the way her face changed with just one look at you. Waiting until Gee and Tommy were in their respective seats before she dived in.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked carefully but you didn’t know what to say. She’d guessed a few months back that your feelings had changed for him a little bit but knew you weren’t ready to do anything about it and never pushed you. Right now you wished she’d had though and as you were still feeling just as miserable.
‘Mason, he’s um… he went in a date yesterday’
‘Okay?’ She breathed. Looking at you questioningly as if she couldn’t understand what the big deal was and you knew you’d have to explain further.
‘I don’t know, I just feel weird about it. He’s never told me before but I bet he’s been on loads. I mean look at him of course he has’ you sighed and you felt your eyes sting the more you thought about him with someone else.
‘Oh babe’ she pouted. Reaching over and taking you hand and as much as you didn’t want Gee seeing you upset you couldn’t seem to hold it together.
‘I’ve missed my chance haven’t I?’ You croaked. Using you other hand to quickly wipe your cheeks so your tears went as quickly as they came.
‘Not necessarily. You said he was just on a date right? That could be anything, it’s probably just a first date’ she tried to reassure you but your mind was already reeling.
‘Yeah but it could also be a third or a fifth or maybe he’s actually got a girlfriend and they’re in bed right now and she gets to kiss him and do all the things I should be doing’ you spiralled and before you knew it you were snatching your hand away from hers and grabbing your phone out of your bag. ‘That's it, I’m calling him’
‘Y/n, no! You can’t’ Ell cried out. Reaching for you phone and somehow snatching it from your hand before you’d even realised.
‘Why not?’
‘Whatever he’s doing he’s allowed to do! He’s single okay, don’t ruin it for him’ she told you and it’s like her words were a slap to the face.
She was right. He wasn’t yours anywhere else but in your own head so if he was in bed with someone else right now then it didn’t matter how much it was tearing you apart. He was well within his rights to see whoever he wanted and it made you feel like crap to think about. This was your own doing though and when you looked up to Ell she was looking at you sympathetically.
‘Look, i think you need to tell him how you feel’
‘I can’t’ you croaked, your emotions attempting to get the better of you but you swallowed them down as best you could.
‘You can, okay? This has gotten way out of hand like you can’t be trying to jeopardise his dates and keep tabs on him if you’re not going to tell him what’s going on in your head. So you either tell him how you’re feeling and move forward or you keep quiet and leave him be’ she told. ‘I’m sorry for the tough love babe, but I just want you to be happy and I know that Mason would give you the world if you just asked’
‘I don’t know, I’ll think about it’
‘Well I’m keeping hold of your phone until we’re done’ she winked and even though you knew she was being serious you knew she was trying to make you laugh.
You didn’t hear much from Mason over the next few days. You knew he was busy in recovery whilst also trying to get a few personal projects off the ground but you also didn’t feel like you could message him. Pulling yourself back from him a little bit as you were feeling awkward and sad about the whole situation but you knew deep down you were just incredibly jealous.
It got to the point where you weren’t sure if he was even coming to Gee’s performance anymore but as soon as you’d got in from work you felt your phone buzz and Masons name pop up on your screen.
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The thought of seeing him the next day filled you with mixed emotions and you couldn’t tell if you were excited or completely terrified. One the one hand you knew you’d have to hear all about his date and how well it went but you but on the other hand you had missed him to the point you didn’t care and just wanted to be around him.
You dropped Gee off early so they could get her into her costume and asked Ell to save you two seats whilst you waited outside for Mason. He was taking a while though and you thought you might have to abandon him soon so you didn’t miss anything but as soon as you turned back to the door his voice rung through the car park.
‘Hey sugar’ you suddenly heard from behind you and when you turned to face him, he pulled you straight into a hug before you could even look at him.
‘Sugar?’ You laughed but he didn’t explain himself. Just held you tighter and buried himself into your neck. ‘I was beginning to think you’d be late’ you told him, pulling back and budging his shoulder but the ever persistent cheeky smile he gave you made you smile back just as wide.
‘Couldn’t find anywhere to park, I've been walking for about ten years’ he joked. Slinging his arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead before his eye landed on the two huge Christmas trees dangling from your ears. ‘Nice earrings’
‘I’m just trying to get into the spirit of things’
‘Well you look great. Makes me look under dressed but I thought it was best I keep things on the down low’ he winked before his face turned a little more serious. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve seemed a bit off, I really wanted to be completely free today for Gee so I had to move some things around but you’ve got me uninterrupted for the rest of the day’
‘That’s okay, you don’t need to explain’ you told him but he just shrugged as he let you go so you could walk into the main reception.
‘I know, but I’ve missed you. I haven’t even had a second to think about anything else but work but it’s like now I’m back with my favourite people’
‘I’ve missed you, too’ you whispered. It hitting you then that you really had and now you knew he had the rest of the day free you thought you’d make sure you could spend as much time as you could with him. ‘Maybe after all this is over you can come back and we can catch up a bit more?’
‘Did you even need to ask’ he laughed.
Mason helped himself to the complimentary mince pies on the way into the hall before sending you a wink. Letting you lead him over to the two seats so he could say hello to Ell and Noah before you got settled for the show to begin.
‘So how was your little date the other night?’ You asked before you even realised what you’d said and you wished you could take it back. You didn’t want to know about him and any other woman but you couldn’t turn back time now. Not even having the courage to look at him as he answered but you knew he wasn’t looking your way either.
‘It was fine’ he shrugged.
‘Just fine?’
‘Yeah’
‘Wow Mase, say how you really feel’ you laughed sarcastically, your eyes flickering over to him for a second and you could see his cheeks were bright red and he was biting back a smile.
‘Fine, you wanna know how it really went?’ He asked, turning towards you in his seat as he wrapped his arms around the back of your chair and as much as you wanted to say no you didn’t.
‘Yes’ you whispered.
‘She didn’t stop talking, like non stop to the point she was talking whilst she ate and she accidentally spat pasta into my eye’
‘Oh Mase’ you giggled. Finally turning to look at him as you covered your mouth with your hand but he just rolled his eyes as he squeezed your shoulder.
Has he always been this gorgeous? you thought. His bright brown eyes full of warmth as he looked down at you and you could feel yourself blushing under his stare.
‘So yeah, that’s how it went’
‘Safe to say you won’t be seeing her again?’
‘Safe to say I won’t be seeing anyone again, at least not for a little while anyway. She’s traumatised me. The only other person I’ve seen that Messy with pasta is Gee’ he grumbled. Turning back in his seat as the lights were dimming and the show was almost about to start.
You felt a weight lift from your heart immediately knowing there was no other woman you had to worry about now but the reality finally settled in that you would have to let him know how you felt before another came along. He’d mentioned that he didn’t want to date but you didn’t know if he was being serious or not and figured you better tell him while you had the courage.
You noticed Gee as soon as she stepped out on stage in her Giant Christmas tree costume but you could tell straight away she couldn’t see you. Her eyes frantically searching the crowd as her bottom lip dropped in fear you might not be there but it was Mason who made himself known. Standing up and waving his arms whilst calling her name and she found him within an instant.
You thought Mason had wanted to be inconspicuous today from the way he was dressed and what he’d said earlier but that had clearly gone out the window as he’d just announced himself to the whole room so Gee wouldn’t get upset thinking you weren’t there for her.
It was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen, the look of relief washing over her face which quickly turned to excitement as she waved back at him before blowing multiple kisses to which he returned. A chorus of quiet awwws ringing out through the room as she continued to blow kisses to the whole crowd so after you’d given her a wave to let her know you were here too, you pulled Mason back down to sit next to you and he gave you a shy smile.
‘What happened to being on the down low?’ You laughed but he just pursed his lips with a smile and shrugged his shoulders.
‘Yeah that’s gone out the window a bit hasn’t it. I won’t have my baby girl being upset though, so it was worth it’ he told you but he must have caught onto the shocked expression on your face and knew he needed to explain a bit further. ‘I know she’s not mine, but she sort of is’
‘Sometimes I think she’s like your double’ you smiled at him. Thinking back to them sat watching tv together the other day but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. The sound of rocking around the Christmas tree blaring through the speakers and suddenly everyone was silent.
You could barely see what Gee was doing through the tears that were welling in your eyes. It was a dance she’s been practising at home with you for weeks but to see her front and centre shaking her stuff as she sung her heart out made you feel like the proudest mum in the world and when Mason slid his hand into yours and squeezed it to offer you some comfort, you held on tightly.
It had been a long road to get here. Long nights of uncertainty of whether you were doing the right thing by becoming a single mum and moving hundreds of miles away from anyone you knew but it was moments like this that made you realise it was all worth it. She was the most important thing in your world, a reason for you to get up in the mornings and carry on and you knew as long as you had her you’d always have everything you’d always dreamed of.
Once all the theatrics were over about an hour later there was time for all the parents to chat but you mostly stuck with Ell as the pair of you didn’t really know any of the other mums, and you let Noah and Mason grab you all some drinks whilst you waited for all the kids to come out.
You knew all eyes were on Mason, and you knew he knew that too. Standing right by your side with his cap on low to hide his face but that was all out the window when Gee came back. Chucking her up in the air until she was giggling like a maniac and it wasn’t long before the first dad came over with their son to ask Mason for a cheeky autograph and a selfie.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ You asked, watching a mini queue form but he just shrugged as he turned to you with a big smile.
‘Probably not, but I hate saying no’ he told you and thankfully it didn’t take too long to get through everyone. The four of you deciding to head out and back yours for some food and you watched with a soft expression as Mason walked the kids back to your car with one on each hand.
As Mason was parked a road or two away he let you know he’d meet you back home and dashed off but as you reached for Gee, Ell stopped you.
‘I’ll take, Gee. You need to talk to him’ she told you firmly and you knew she was right.
‘I will’ you nodded. Quickly putting Gee’s car seat in Ell’s car and telling her you’d come and get her later but she seemed excited about going to Tommy's house for a bit.
You were full of nerves the whole ride back, trying to think about what you wanted to say but the ride was short and sweet and all you felt was an overwhelming sense of nerves by the time you got back.
‘Hey, where’s Gee? And I thought they were all coming back here?’ Mason asked as you got out of the car. He was lent against his own but he followed you up to the front door whilst you frantically thought of an excuse as to why you were on your own.
‘Oh um… Gee was kicking up a fuss about ice cream and wanting to see Ell’s Hamster so she’s taken her for a couple of hours with Tommy. Thought maybe we could finally have a bit more of a catch up like we said?’ You offered and he sent you a nod as his cheeks reddened.
‘Okay, yeah. Let’s do it’ he smiled shyly. Letting you lead him into the house before ushering him into the living room whilst you got him a drink.
You used the time you were in the kitchen to calm yourself down a bit. This was Mason you thought to yourself and when you made it back to the living room he was looking at you with a huge smile as he waved his phone in the air.
‘You fancy a cheeky maccies? I didn’t have lunch I’m bloody starving’
‘Go on then’ you laughed. Taking his phone from him so you could add your order and before long you were chatting away as you shoved nuggets in your mouth. Thankfully the pair of you kept away from the whole dating topic and just spoke about upcoming plans and how he’d been playing recently after another short spell out but thankfully he was in good spirits about it all.
‘I fancy a coffee, you want one?’ You asked him after you finished off your last fry and he was nodding his head as he shoved the last in of his own so you quickly tidied up and made your way to the kitchen to make you both one. It suddenly hitting you that you hadn’t spoken about what you’d meant to as you were so caught up in just being together so you used the few minutes the kettle was boiling to think about how you were going to broach the subject.
‘What you watching?’ You asked as you walked back in with his coffee. Placing it down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to him and when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his body you just went with it. Cuddling up with him on the sofa and he scrubbed the video back to the beginning.
It was a video of Gee from earlier, right at the front singing her song and doing her little dance and you felt your eyes sting again at how proud you were of the tiny human you’d created.
‘She’s so funny, I still can’t believe I cried through the whole thing’
‘That’s why I thought I better record it, thought you wouldn’t be able to see much through all the tears in your eyes’ he laughed but you just patted him on the chest playfully.
You both sat and laughed at how into it she was, cuddling into Mason like you couldn’t get close enough and when you looked up at him as the video finished his lips were merely an inch from yours.
The air shifted within a nanosecond. Time suddenly standing still as he froze in front of you and you did the only thing you wanted to and pushed up slightly. Placing your lips on his in a gentle kiss before pulling back to gage his reaction but he hadn’t moved. He didn't kiss you back but you didn’t exactly give him a chance to and he wasn’t backing off so you leaned in again in hopes this time he’d reciprocate. Thankfully after a beat or two he did and as you both sighed into each other's mouths you deepened the kiss even further.
It was like any sense of anything left your bodies as you kissed each other. Your free hand holding his jaw as he kissed you back softly and you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Not believing yourself that this was the first kiss the pair of you had ever shared and your tummy was fluttering with how gentle he was being with you. Both lost in each other as you wondered what had taken this long to get here but soon you didn’t have time to think for too much longer. Feeling Mason pulling away and she shook himself out of whatever trance he was in and you felt all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks.
‘Shit, sorry y/n I-‘
‘No don’t be sorry, it wasn’t you. I kissed you first’
‘Yeah but I shouldn’t have kissed you back’
‘Why?’ You breathed, confused as to why he seemed so upset with himself but he was now looking back at you just as confused.
‘Cause you don’t want this’ he told you, speaking to you like he was talking to a crazy person. ‘You’ve told me this isn’t what you want so many times-‘
‘I was wrong, I do want this’ you cut him off, sitting up properly so you could finally speak to him properly about your feelings but this wasn’t how you expected it to be coming out or for him to be looking back at you.
Shocked? Maybe. But horrified? This wasn’t on your list.
‘What? I don’t… what do you mean?’
‘I was just confused, I’ve wanted you and us for the longest time I swear. I heard you talking to Gee when she was a baby and telling her how you still loved me and-‘
‘What? That was years ago’
‘I know, and I’ve been thinking about it for years’
‘You knew and you didn’t say anything? He asked, his voice easing slightly but you knew it was just because he was upset with you.
‘Mase please just listen’ you pleaded. The hurt across his face was unbearable and you wanted to reassure him in some way but you were so flustered you couldn't get anything out properly. ‘You’re my best friend, yeah? Always have been but hearing you still loved me, like after all this time still, it just made me wonder what life would be like if things were different and somewhere along the way I got confused like you’re so good with Gee especially after Jack left you really held us all together and you’re always there for her-‘
‘So because I’m good with Gee you think that’s enough?’
‘No, not at all Mason that’s just an extra-‘
‘So what then? Are you confused?’ He cut you off and you’re starting to get frustrated at how he kept batting you away.
‘No Mase’ you huffed, wishing he would just listen but you understood why he wasn’t.
‘Well what is it?’ He demanded. His voice desperate as he moved himself away from you and you felt your heart plummet as he moved to stand on the other side of the room.
‘Will you let me just talk? You know how much I hate being interrupted’
‘Let me guess, Jack always did the same?’ He scoffed and you were confused as to why he’d bought him up even if he was right.
‘Well yeah he did, and I don’t need you doing the same’
‘Why do you always fucking do that?’ He exploded and you were taken aback by the way he was being. He’d never once spoken to you like this before and whilst you knew you had nothing to be afraid of in anyway it still shocked you.
‘Do what?’
‘Comepare me to him all the fucking time?’
‘I don’t-‘ you defended but it was no use. Mason was furious and ready to give you it with both barrels.
‘You do!’ He insisted even louder. ‘Apart from what we’ve got between our legs I’m nothing like him and you know it’
‘Mase-‘
‘When he left, who picked up the pieces and expected nothing in return, huh? It was me, yeah? It was me and I’ve looked after you and Gee like she was my own ever since just for you to tell me I’m the same as the scumbag that never deserved you? Who left at the first sign of a struggle. It was me that stepped up, me that took care of everything, of you, and you take every chance you get to tear me down’
‘Mase please’ you sobbed. Wanting him to calm down a bit so you could talk rationally but every word that came out of your mouth seemed to just wind him up more.
‘And now you wanna tell me you wanna be with me? You’ve known how I’ve felt about you this whole fucking time and you’d stayed silent. Why now huh? Why have you strung me along for so long? so I can babysit?’
‘That’s not it-‘
‘What is it then? I’m good with Gee and you think that’s all it takes for us to work? You didn’t say one thing about me, it was all about what I can give to you’ he carried on. Getting more wound up with each word that came out of his mouth and you had no idea how to stop him now.
‘Mason please, I got confused’ you whimpered and even though he’d stopped shouting you could see he wasn’t done yet. Expelling all the air from his lungs in a shaky breath before sliding his hands over his face and you wondered what he was about to hit you with next but to your surprise his voice was much quieter yet more emotional.
‘I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember y/n’ he croaked and you felt your heart shatter as his bottom lip wobbled. ‘Everytime i see you I can feel it and it’s torn me apart that you’ve never felt the same’
‘Thats what im trying to tell you though, i have, I do feel the same Mason, I just couldn’t tell you’
‘Why not ?’ He demanded, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Not a reasonable sounding enough one anyway but Mason was coming to his own conclusions as he looked at you. ‘Is this because I went on a date the other night?’
‘No-‘
‘It is, isn't it? You thought you had me wrapped around your finger but now you know i'm not you’re saying you like me so I don’t leave you’
‘Will you just stop-‘
You were cut off by your phone ringing in the side, looking down to see it was Ell and you knew you had to answer so you quickly cleared your throat before picking up in hopes you’d sound as normal as possible.
‘Hey Ell, everything okay?’
‘Yeah fine, I think little miss is getting tired though, I think it’s best you come get her’
‘Of course. I won’t be long, okay?’ You told her but before you’d even hung up Mason was already making his way to the door.
‘I’ll go, I need some air’ he told you, leaving before you could say anything else and once you were finally alone you let yourself fall to the sofa and let your emotions out properly.
Even in your worst case scenario in your head you never envisioned this happening. You figured he’d be somewhat confused and a but unsure at first but the pure rage coming from him was so out of character and you weren’t sure what the future held for the two of you now.
You knew Mason could tell you’d been crying when he got back. Placing Gee on the floor so she could run to you and you scooped her up and held her close whilst Mason shuffled uncomfortably at the door.
‘Listen, I’m gonna head off yeah. Let you put Gee to bed’ he nodded quietly and you felt your heart sink.
‘Oh’ you breathed, wondering why he didn’t want to stay and talk things through, especially after how upset you clearly were but you just nodded and placed Gee back on the floor. ‘Go say goodbye to Uncle Masey and we’ll get ready for a bath, yeah?’
Your heart broke as he placed little kisses all over her face, her giggles filling the hall as he told her he’d see her soon before nudging her back to you.
‘I’ll um, I’ll see you soon then’
‘Okay’ you whispered, unable to look at him so you picked Gee up and made your way up the stairs without another look at him. Your tummy dropping when you heard the door shut a few moments after and you knew he’d gone.
Gee was quiet as you got her bathed and ready for an early night. Not sure if it was because she was tired from the days events or she could tell you were upset but you were thankful that she wanted to go to sleep now even if she was being a little clingy. You stayed with her though until she was fully out but all you were thinking about was Mason and how you’d both move on from here.
That would have to wait for now though. All you could think about was the chocolate cake in your fridge that you’d saved for a moment alone so when you were certain Gee was definitely fast asleep, you gently kissed her head and made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen.
‘Fuck!’ You squealed. Hands clutching at your chest as your heart threatened to burst free. The sight in the corner of your eye making you do a double take before you were jumping out of your skin. ‘What the fuck, Mason’
‘Sorry’ he whispered. Standing by the fridge with his arms crossed over his body and you noticed he hadn’t looked directly at you once.
‘How did you get back in? I never heard you’ you asked, gulping to try and readjust your breathing as inconspicuously as you could but it didn’t really matter as his eyes were still trained on the floor.
‘I never left in the first place’ he told you and you realised that when you heard the door shut earlier he never actually left but had simply shut the door and waited downstairs for you.
He’d stayed for a reason, but you weren't quite sure if he knew what that was. Clearly he wanted to talk but right now he had his arms still crossed over his body and his head down as he looked at his shoes but you could tell he was chewing on his bottom lip which meant he was trying to keep his emotions in.
All you wanted to do was comfort him. Not sure if he wanted you close to him but you pushed that to the side and slowly made your way over to stand right in front of him.
He didn’t move a muscle, just kept his eyes down as you waited for him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t without a little encouragement so in the end you held him at his jaw and tilted his head up so he’d finally look at you. The tears welling in his eyes made your heart ache and all you wanted was to reassure him and let him know you were serious.
‘I’m so sorry, Mase’ you whispered, your tummy dropping as he shut his eyes and his tears spilled over. Wiping them away as quickly as you could before uncrossing his arms and placing them around your waist in hopes he’d hug you and once your arms were around his neck he pulled you in as close as he could.
‘I’m sorry for shouting at you’ he whispered. His voice full of tears as he spoke into your neck, but you just shook your head to let him know it was okay.
‘It’s okay, i probably deserved it’
‘No you didn’t, I just… I’m so confused’ he told you, peeling himself away so he could look at you properly and you hated the way he looked so vulnerable.
‘Shall we talk then? Talk properly and figure it all out?’
‘Okay’ he nodded and you took his hand to lead him back into the living room so you could talk. The smell of your untouched coffees from earlier still hanging thick in the air as you tried to clear your mind of all the angry words he’d thrown your way not too long ago but you could tell he was in a completely different mind set now. The anger subsided and vulnerability in its place and you just prayed you could finally get your thoughts together and tell him how you felt properly.
‘I’m a bit nervous’ he chuckled. Making sure you were comfy on the sofa as he tucked you into his side and you smiled up at him as you were feeling the exact same.
‘Me too. I don’t really know where to start’ you laughed and even though he’d clearly calmed down and wanted to talk you still didn’t want to set him off again.
‘You said you heard me talking to Gee once? What did you hear?’ He asked quietly but he could see you were nervous to talk so he took your hand and squeezed it gently. ‘It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m not gonna have a strop again I promise’ he chuckled and you felt your shoulder relax.
‘It was when she called you dada for the first time and you told her you weren’t but you wished you were’ you whispered, watching him recall that moment in his head but thankfully he was still smiling softly. ‘That you loved us and that it hurt knowing I was your person but I didn’t see it’
‘I see’
‘That’s not when I realised my feelings had changed though’ you confirmed and you noticed his brows furrow in confusion.
‘When was it?’
‘When you stayed with us that week before you moved into your house and you told me I had to share you with Gee‘ you laughed. ‘It just slapped me in the face that I don’t want to share you with anyone. And then her second birthday party you were just perfect and it made me feel all this new things for you that I never had’
‘That was over a year ago, love. Why the change of heart? Why tell me now?’ He asked quietly and you could tell he was in a completely different headspace to earlier.
‘Cause you were right’ you wept, using your free hand to dry your eyes so you could carry on talking sensibly but you were finding it hard to hold it together. ‘I didn’t like the thought of you going on a date the other night and I almost called you the morning after thinking you were still with her in hopes I could ruin it but Ell stopped me. I know how it sounds, I know. But it’s not me messing you around or keeping you wrapped around my finger. I’ve just had enough of keeping things to myself when I know we could be happy together’
‘I just don’t get why you haven’t said something before. I thought we told each other everything’ he told you sadly and you knew you had to just be open with him.
‘I was scared’
‘Of what, love?’
‘That you’d react like you did’ you laughed and even though he was smiling back you could tell he was still feeling guilty about it all. ‘Plus when you were talking to Gee that one time you told her you’d try to move on and I didn’t want to make an idiot out of myself just in case you had’
‘All you had to do was tell me and I would have been yours from that very second’ he told you matter of factly but you didn’t like the way he was using the past tense.
‘Does that mean you won’t be now?’ You pouted. Eyes full of tears that you’d waited so long to come clean but he just smiled at you softly and pushed the hair out of your eyes so he could see you better.
‘Why do you think I'm here, love?’ He asked quietly but you just shrugged as you looked down to your lap. Tears spilling down your cheeks but he was quick to hook his finger under your chin and make you look at him again. ‘I think about you, and what we could have, every fucking day’ he whispered. ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, that’s not something I can just throw away and move on from’
‘I know it’s taken me a while to realise it but I love you too, Mase. I really do’ You gulped. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I’ve never felt how you make me feel before’
‘What do you mean?’ He asked. Trying to contain his smile at the fact you’d just told him you loved him but he needed more from you clearly.
‘When Jack left me… well I’d never felt so ugly in my whole life. I hated everything about myself you know, like no matter what I did I was never enough’ you told him. ‘But you’ve always made me feel beautiful’
‘That’s cause you were. You are beautiful, y/n. So so fucking beautiful’ he whispered as he pulled you further into his lap and you were so close now your noses were touching as you spoke.
‘I think there’s this part of me that’s felt like I’ve never deserved you. You’re you, you know? And I’m a mess. A single mum who’s just about getting by like what do I have to offer you?’
‘Don’t ever say that again’ he whispered. Cutting you off as he cupped your jaw and stroked your cheeky softly. ‘You deserve whoever you want and whoever makes you happy. And I know I will do everything I can every single day to make you happy’
‘I know you will, you already do. This last year has driven me insane’ you laughed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done it for so many years’
‘Well they say If you love someone you set them free. And if it’s meant to be you’ll find your way back to each other. We always find our way back no matter what happens right? That's got to count for something’ he told you and before you knew it the ghost of your favourite cheeky smile was adorning his lips. ‘You try and put 240 miles between us and i will hunt you down’
‘Well when you say that…’ you laughed, trying to pull away from him as a joke but he was having none of it. Pulling you in even closer so he could kiss your cheek and the feel of his lips on your hot skin made you shiver.
‘I really am sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to go off like I did. I think I was just in panic mode and it’s been hard on me too. Like coming here and getting to play house with you sometimes but knowing I’d never get that happy ending was a lot but I still did it cause I’d take what I can get with you’ he confessed quietly. ‘That still doesn’t make it right though’
‘It’s okay, a lot of what you said earlier made sense but I need you to know I didn’t fall for you just because you’re good with Gee I promise’ you told him. ‘Even though you’ve stepped up and basically been her father figure without me asking you too. You know I’ll always be thankful for that’
‘Well I love the pair of you more than anything. And I get why me having a good relationship with Gee is so important to you’
‘It’s hard, being a mum and wanting to do right by your kids whilst also trying to have a bit of happiness for yourself’ you sniffed, not having spoken to him about this topic before but since you both seemed to be getting stuff off your chests you figured you’d go for it. Letting him wrap you up close to his chest so you could take in a breath of his relaxing scent before you continued. ‘Gee’s always been a big factor as to why I’ve held back with relationships cause as much as I want someone for myself, she’s my whole life, you know? She’s part of me and I’d never forgive myself for bringing someone into our bubble that could hurt us. So yeah, your relationship with Gee is huge for me cause I don't have to worry about that. You said it yourself earlier she’s basically yours and I don’t think I’ll every trust another man with her like I trust you with her’
‘And I promise you, you’ll never have to even think about trusting someone else okay? You guys are my family. Always have been always will be’ he told you softly and you had to pull back again to look at him as you missed his face already.
‘I’m sorry too though, for keeping it from you, and for comparing you to Jack a lot. I didn’t realise I was even doing it but now I do and I need you to know you’re nothing like him’ you told him tearily and you could see it all over his face how much that meant to him.
‘Thank you’ he whispered, tears still flowing down your cheeks that he gently wiped away and you could see from the frown on his face he didn’t like that you were so upset still. ‘Hey come on, please stop crying baby’ he whispered, the pet name making you smile wider than you had all evening as your tummy swarmed with butterflies. ‘I can’t kiss you again if you keep crying, and I really wanna kiss you right now’
‘You can still kiss me’ you chuckled. Letting him help wipe your cheeks so you didn’t look so upset and when he cupped your jaw you felt your heart flutter at what was about to happen.
If he was as nervous as you then he didn’t show it too much as he tipped your face up towards his. A small smile on his lips as his eyes flashed downward but you could see his pupils had dilated whilst his breathing had deepened but you couldn’t look for too much longer. Shutting your eyes just before his lips touched yours and you felt every nerve ending in your body sing. Your mind foggy as he carefully brushed his lips against yours but you felt whole for the first time in a long time.
‘I’ve waited ten years for that kiss’ he whispered. Lips ghosting yours as he peppered kisses to the corner of your mouth and back and you couldn’t stop giggling before he captured your lips once more.
‘Sorry it took so long’
‘Don’t be. I’d wait another ten, you know that right?’
‘I can’t believe I’ve been so blind this whole time’ you sniffed. Resting your hands on his chest as another wave of guilt hit you. ‘I’ve been so in my head about Jack and then trying to look after Gee and then the move. It’s like all I’ve been doing is trying to keep my head above the water but now I feel like I can take a breath and my visions cleared and you’ve been standing right under my nose this whole time’ you breathed, feeling him pull you closer into his body. ‘I’ve never told you enough how much I love you, like even just as friends. I know I was never great to you over the years and I’m just so sorry for how I’ve acted and how I’ve made you feel all this time. Kinda makes me wonder why you even still like me’ you giggled but just smiled as he rubbed his nose against yours.
‘Cause I don’t just like you, I’m in love with you. Good days, bad days and everything in between. Yes it’s been rough but even if I knew it would hurt as much as it has sometimes I would have still loved you like I do now’ he whispered. Tears springing to your eyes again but you were determined to keep them inside. ‘But I understand, my minds kinda blown and I don’t really get any of this either like when I woke up this morning this wasn’t on my bingo card’
‘Well I’ve been thinking about you for a while and Ell told me I had to be honest with you’
‘Yeah? What have you been thinking?’ He asked, clearly wanting to tease you even more and the prospect of saying divulging even more made you blush furiously as you tried to stutter out a response but he was quick to kiss your cheek and squeeze your sides. ‘You can just say you fancy me, it’s okay’
‘You’re unbelievable’ you laughed. Not being sure if you wanted to pull away or nuzzle in closer but you went for the latter in the end. Wrapping your arms around his neck to you could hold each other and you could feel yourself melting in his arms.
‘And you’re tired’ he whispered into your neck, making you laugh at the way he could read you so well. This whole evening had been exhausting but there was still so much you wanted to ask him. ‘Do you wanna head to bed?’
‘Only if you’re coming with me’
‘Of course’ he whispered, squeezing you tightly for a moment before pulling away and helping you to stand. ‘We can talk some more up there I just wanna be comfy’
You both got ready for bed fairly quickly and Mason was under the covers before you meaning he could warm it all up just as you liked. You’d shared a bed with Mason a few times over the years but this felt different, every other time he’d been basically fully clothed but this time he was just in his boxers and your mouth was watering at the view of his chest. He could tell you were a little bit nervous so he pulled the covers back and tucked you into his side just like normal. Your cheeks flaming as he held your jaw and kissed you again gently but your mind was still reeling with questions.
‘Can I ask you something, cause I feel like you never told me’ you asked as you pulled away from each other.
‘Yeah? Course you can’ he laughed tickling your side gently as you got settled on his chest, his skin warm against your own and after you’d nuzzled yourself into him a bit you were looking up at him with a smile.
‘Why did you pick United?’ You asked and you saw his cheeks redden a touch like he knew why you were asking.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I’m just curious. There’s so many other clubs that were in for you’ you shrugged before settling your head back down but you noticed his heart rate had picked up slightly.
‘Why do you think I chose here?’
‘I don’t know’ you shrugged. Hoping if you played dumb and not accuse him he’d come out and tell you.
‘I mean I picked here cause I thought it would be the best fit for me but I can’t lie and say the thought of being closer to you wasn’t at the forefront of my mind’ he confessed quietly. Confirming what you sort of had always suspected and rather than scare him off you kept your head down and traced patterns on his chest gently to see if he’d elaborate.
‘Yeah?’
‘When you first told me you were moving, I was so crushed. I thought that was it, you know? Any shot of us ever being more than friends was gone but not even just that. You were so far away it’s like I wouldn’t know if you’re safe or not and it tore me apart that I couldn't protect you anymore. Especially you being up here when Gee was so little. So yeah, you being here made have made it on the list of pros for signing here’
‘It’s your life, mase. I would have never expected to be on your list for something that big’
‘You forget, you are my life. You and pickle are everything to me like even after you told me you didn’t want this I’ve still never been able to let you go. And maybe that sounds a bit pathetic but I just always knew deep down we’d get there one day’
‘Well here we are’ you laughed.
‘Here we are’ he smiled. Kissing your forehead gently before looking down at you with a coy smile. ‘Anything else I need to confess to? Come on, out with it’ he laughed, knowing you and more to say and you figured since he was on a roll you may as well ask no matter how insane you seemed.
‘When you said you date… like how often are we talking?’ You laughed. ‘Cause I had no idea no idea, you’ve never mentioned anything before so it was a bit of a shock’
‘I mean it wasn’t often, every now and then. I’m not all that good at dating I’d don’t think, seemed to just compare everyone to you’ he laughed, rolling his eyes a little bit. ‘But after you moved up here I was with someone for a few months’ he confessed and even thought it was over quite clearly you still felt a weird sinking feeling in your tummy.
‘Oh? Was it serious?’ You asked carefully but he just shrugged.
‘Could have been. But then I had to move and she wasn’t up for long distance so we decided to leave it. I think she kinda knew my feelings towards you too so that probably didn’t help but since moving up I’ve only been on like two dates including last weeks’
‘Does that make me your third time lucky’ you smiled. Your fingers gently tracing his ribs as he smiled back down at you and you couldn’t help but reach up to peck his lips gently.
‘No way, you’ve always been my number one’
‘Is that why you didn’t tell me?’
‘Sort of, I guess I was just holding out hope that you’d come round one day and I didn’t want you thinking I’d moved on from you even if you didn’t care that I had at the time. I didn’t even really want to tell you about last weeks but you’d figured it out and I couldn’t lie. I hope that doesn’t make you feel any differently about me’
‘Not at all. You’re a human Mase, and I wouldn’t expect you to wait for me if I was giving you nothing back. You don’t have to worry about that anymore though cause I wanna give you everything’
‘Oh yeah’ he grinned. His eyebrows wiggling suggestively but you just rolled your eyes as you tapped his chest.
‘Yeah. Like I fell for you because of how I feel when I’m with you and I wanna reciprocate that, you know? I want you to feel all the love you make me feel every single day’
‘I feel it, always have done’ he whispered but all you knew was that you wanted to give home more.
‘Well then buckle up cause you’re about to be overwhelmed’ you laughed. Cupping his jaw and kissing him again but this time he didn’t let you go. Chasing your lips when you went to pull away but it was his hand that was on your lower back that was begging to explore your skin that made your heart race even faster. Gasping into his mouth as he gave your bum a cheeky squeeze and you both pulled away breathless before anyone took things any further.
‘I can’t believe I get to kiss you now. 15 year old me is losing his mind’ he chuckled, pecking your cheek as you both got your breath back. ‘If you wanna be my third time lucky you’re gonna have to let me take you out on a date then’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, of course. How about this, Lew is coming up next week so he can make a start on some Christmas stuff, why don’t I ask if he can have Gee for an evening and I’ll take you out. I’ve been planing this in my head for years so all you need to do is turn up’
‘Yeah?’ You laughed, loving the excited expression on his face but you were just as excited to get to experience whatever he was dreaming up for the pair of you.
‘As long as you don’t spit pasta in my eye’ he winked and you knew that was a promise you could most definitely keep.
🤍Four Years Later🤍
‘Gee! You ready to go baby?’ You called, standing by the door with her bag and everyone else’s belongings.
‘Coming!’ She shouted. Her footsteps bounding down the stairs suddenly and as you looked to your left, she was running up besides you with a big smile on her face.
‘I’m gonna put all your stuff in the car, okay pickle?.’
‘Where’s daddy?’ She questioned, not wanting to leave without him clearly but you just smiled and stroked the top of her head.
‘He’s coming baby, don’t worry’ you reassured her and she gave you a quick nod to let you know she understood.
‘Right that’s all locked up out back, just need to do the front. We ready?’ Mason smiled, rounding the corner from the kitchen before his eyes were on you. A cheeky and excited look on his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist and even though you two were excited, you were full of nerves at what you were about to do. ‘You okay love?’
‘I’m nervous’ you giggled. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going’
‘I always promised we would, didn’t I?’
‘You did’ you whispered smiling up at him before he dropped a soft kiss to your lips.
‘Which one are you taking?’ Mason asked. Looking over to Gee who had a protective hand on the handle of the car seat which made your heart thump in your chest.
‘You take Gee and lock up, I’ll get Leo in the car’ you smiled and with another quick kiss to your lips Mason had picked gee up and was stuffing her into a hoodie so she wasn’t cold.
‘Come on little man, let’s get you all strapped in, yeah?’ You cooed. Watching Leo giggle as you tickled his tummy.
Leo was around 10 months old now and he was the apple of Masons eye. You still remember the look on Masons face when you told him you were expecting and even though it was a bit of a shock, it was something the pair of you had spoken about often and you knew he was waiting to hopefully give Gee a sibling.
When you’d first booked this trip, the pair of you had no idea about Leo even existing. His arrival making you question if you should postpone the trip you’d always dreamed of but Gee was already excited and with Leo being such a calm little guy you figured you should just go for it and finally live your dream.
‘Hey mate, you all ready to go?’ Mason asked him sweetly. Coming up behind you as you’d finally got him sat in the car all strapped in and that was all it took for Leo to send him a bright gummy smile. He was such a happy baby but he always reserved his biggest smiles for his daddy.
‘Daddy! Come on!’ Gee suddenly called from the seat in the back next to Leo. Clearly getting frustrated you hadn’t left yet but Mason just playfully rolled his eyes as he smiled down at you.
‘She gets that from you, you know’ he winked. Dropping a heavy kiss on your lips before bending down to talk to Gee. ‘Oi you, I’ll throw you with the lions when we get there if you’re not careful’ he teased but Gee was giggling soon after as he began to hype her up about the trip and get her excited, behaving like he was your third child.
‘Come on, we best head off’ you laughed. Pulling his arm so he’d look at you and the smile on his face made your heart flutter. ‘You sure you got everything?’
‘Got all my people, that’s all I need’ he beamed. Cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply to the point you knees went weak.
‘I can’t believe we're actually doing this, it’s like my biggest dreams coming true. I know I’ve said it a million times but thank you. I love you so much, dimples’ you smiled and it was worth it to watch the blush creep over his cheeks like always when you called him that.
‘I love you, too’ he whispered. Squeezing your sides softly as he kissed you again. ‘But what have I told you about calling me dimples?’
‘Doesn’t matter what you say, your face says it all’ you whispered. Knowing how much he complained about the nickname you’d given him shortly after you’d finally gotten together, but you just didn’t believe him. Watching the way he’d turn into a blushy mess each time told you he secretly loved it and you loved making Mason feel good. ‘Come on then, before Gee loses the plot’
‘Your chariot awaits Mrs Mount’
‘Easy, I’m not Mrs Mount yet’ you laughed, tapping his chest and even though it was something you’d spoken about, Mason was yet to pop the question.
‘It’s only a matter of time’ he whispered. Kissing your head before he let you go and get in the car but it was only when you were out of sight that he checked his pocket for a very important piece of cargo. The small black box felt huge between his fingers but he couldn’t think of a more perfect time for him to ask the girl of his dreams to be his wife than on the trip of her dreams with their two babies in tow. Finally getting to be the family the both of you had always dreamed of.
y/n
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liked by masonmount, ell_197, lukeshaw23 and others
y/n wild and free… but not for long 😌 it’s always been a dream of mine to come here but i never imagined just how special it could be. The easiest yes I’ve ever had to say 🤍
masonmount the easiest question I’ve ever had to ask 😏 I love our little family so much ❤️
y/n I love you more, dimples 🥰
masonmount 🙄
ell_197 it’s about damn time guys!!! So so excited for you, congratulations 🥳 🩷 I knew this trip would be special for you girly but who knew just how much 🥺
masonmount yeah I’ve left it a little late huh 😂
y/n he’s lucky he’s cute 🤭 can’t wait to start planning with you Ell! 🩷
lukeshaw23 he finally did it huh 😂 he’s been talking to me about it for months. Thank you for saying yes so he doesn’t have to come and live with me!
y/n why do I feel like you’re saying this because you actually want thank you happen 😂
Mummy_y/n oh I’m over the moon. I remember watching you two growing up and knowing you’d be in each other lives for a very long time. So glad you’ve found your soulmate baby girl 🩷
y/n Mumma 🥺 he’s been here this whole time I’m just glad I finally saw 😭
Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13
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lover-of-mine · 1 day ago
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Anna baby we got new stills!! I am very curious why so many of Buck's outfits have been brown. The flannel he's wearing in the loft??? Blue and red and brown??? I'm thinking they tell Buck Maddie is pregnant, and it gets Buck thinking about a family (adding to his already immense longing), add in the pictures on his fridge and he is so close to understanding what he wants! But anyway! What is with the brown????
Hello baby!! So, the brown. I was talking about the brown with @stagefoureddiediaz literally yesterday lol. But current theory is that they are playing with both the stability and growth attached to the color when put in a positive light and the sense of isolation when we put it in a negative light. Buck doesn't wear brown a lot pre-season 7, his neutral color is grey, but ever since he came out he has been in a grey/sepia scale. The only instances me and Kym could come up with at the top of our heads was when Chim kicks Buck out and he has to move back with Maddie and the grocery store fight.
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It plays into movements in Buck's life he needs to figure out alone, in a sense. Only Buck can break his own patterns and using a color that's attached to both stability and growth, like who he is for Eddie in 710, and loneliness, the grocery store, is fun because only Buck can allow himself to grow, he needs to do this for himself
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Brown was also very attached to Tommy, Buck hasn't worn any brighter colors, like he would do his blues and red in previous seasons, this season yet, except for his costume, and I think it also plays into the way Buck forces himself to be what his partner wants and fails to consider what chipping away pieces of himself will do to him, like the way Tommy doesn't know he doesn't like basketball or the way Buck never complained about the "Evan" thing or the way Buck didn't know Tommy is gay or was engaged before or all the tiny ways they showed us Buck and Tommy didn't really know each other. And that plays into the way Buck was dimming himself while trying to find himself in the relationship, while trying to make dating Tommy something transformative, especially because while doing that, he was negating parts of who he is.
The brown hoodie is the first time we are seeing Buck in plain brown too, he's usually in a pattern or a textured fabric, and the mopping around and the very obvious stress-baking on "faded" colors with Jee in a literal rainbow, probably leading Buck to talk to Maddie and Chim in the red and blue will be interesting if that's the correct sequence of events. Because it will allow Buck to start bringing that color back to his life.
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He's back in his self-discovery blue and that red with Buck is attached to emotions, trying to get in the right direction when it comes to his feelings, like trying to let go of Abby, his speech about love, a few moments in 208, Buck, actually as a whole works for Buck to try and figure out his own feelings.
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But he's not in the true red, so, as pointed out to me by Kym, it's almost as if he's locking himself. He's not ready to have the revelation yet, But he will be back in blue, that's a good step, he will probably work his way back to his blue, being in it when he's ready for Eddie.
I will taglist this one (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)
@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster
@dingdongfries @angelcamael
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gilverrwrites · 3 days ago
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Dick being a bit of a perv towards Tim’s friend…you and Tim obviously have crushes on another, but Dick subtly convinces you that it’s unrequited, that Tim is turned off by how naive you clearly are…unless you want Dick to teach you some things, he’s be more than happy to *do it*…of course his hands are already creeping down your pants as he says this.
What?! Anon you're crazy. Dickie would never ever do something like this! Anyway... Warnings: Coercion, manipulation, choking, slut shaming, implied age gap Virgin!Reader.
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The very first time he met you; Dick made it his mission to ensure he was your favourite member of the family. He’s often the first to invite you to events. He’s always cutting in at galas, much to Tim’s chagrin, and telling you how great you look. Not just the fancy stuff either, he showers you with compliments all the time. He just loves your cosy hoodie, and did you get a haircut? It looks great.
Sometimes he’ll make a show of staring at you, all starry-eyed as he says shit like “Wow. You really are just sooo beautiful. Tim’s a lucky guy.” Knowing full well Tim and you are not an item.
“If only I’d got there first.” Knowing that his comments will almost certainly embarrass Tim.
“What did Tim do to deserve you, anyway?” That the embarrassment is liable to make Tim push you away a little bit.
But it’s not all flirtation. Dick also asks about your life, your friends and family. He learns about your hobbies, and watches your favourite films so he can talk to you about them. He's always offering advice, warranted or not. He just wants to be ‘the best soon-to-be brother-in-law’, you know?
So, he's unsurprised and elated when you call him one night, on the brink of tears after seeing Tim on what looked like a date with someone else. “I feel so weird calling you since you're brothers but you're the only one who knows us both.”
“No, no, no. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me. You can always come to me for anything! Why don't I come over?”
Half an hour later he's on your couch, listening to you lament about your hopeless crush on Tim. He pats your shoulders, and rubs your back throughout, subtly getting closer and closer until you're all but sat in his lap with his hand dangerously high up your thigh.
“Listen, Tim is my brother, and I love him, I do. And I don't believe in slut shaming, that's not what this is, but he does get around. A lot.” He catches a stray tear with his thumb. You don't move when he lingers, so he keeps shooting, caressing your cheek until he reaches your lips where he grazes their softness far longer than is appropriate. His cock is rock hard from cradling you, there's no way you haven't noticed it digging into your asscheek. You can't be that dumb? “I shouldn't say this, it’s not my place but you deserve to know. He’s a cheater. He's cheated in almost every relationship he's been in. I think he gets bored… Sexually.”
He hadn’t thought you could look any sadder, but you managed it. He almost feels bad. Almost.
“You should be fine though. You know what you're doing, right? No? That's crazy, you're so lovely.”
It takes a little persuasion, but it's cursory more than anything.
“Tim doesn't need to know; it’ll be our little secret.” He promises as he slides his fingers under your waistband.
That night he makes it all about you. He practically spoils you, never using anything but his hands and mouth to make you melt for him, over and over. It takes all his resolve not to kiss you stupid, only because you make such captivating sounds. Such moreish whimpers and moans. For his ears only.
He’s the worst brother in the world.
But that doesn’t stop him from calling you every chance he gets.
He knows he’s going to hell when he’s filled with a sick sense of pride, after dropping you off for a coffee date with Tim, having cum all over your tongue only moments earlier and driven you there with his hand practically lodged between your legs.
Sometimes he fantasises about sucking his name into your chest. Just so Tim will know exactly where you've been if he ever has the balls to close the deal.
But the veneer can only last so long, and you unknowingly chip away at it, bit by bit every time you say Tim’s name. “Do you think Tim would like this?” “I can't believe I'm asking but do you know if Tim…” “Oh, I can’t tonight, Tim and I…”
It finally shatters the first time he fucks you though. You take it so well, slowly letting him stretch out your tight, virgin hole. He barely even has to coach you through it, just a few sweet words of praise, his fingers brushing you in all the right places and your bouncing on his cock like it was made for you.
But then you go and spoil it. He barely even remembers what you said exactly. “Something, something, Tim.” and he's seeing red.
The next thing out of your mouth is a startled gasp as he fixes his hand around your throat and squeezes, pulling you close and pushing his length so deep inside that your eyes roll back as he spits; “Tim doesn't want you.”
You're like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and confused but still moaning like a slut as he ruts up into you. “He did, but do you really think he'd ever touch you now? When he finds out you've been hanging off his big brother's dick? Should of taken photos so he can see how bad you wanted it.”
“But- but you said-”
“I know what I said.” You look the most aggrieved when he cuts you off. Never in a million years did you think golden boy Dick Grayson would be so callous. “And you bought it all. God- you’re too easy.”
He trails off for a moment, getting lost in how fucking good you feel, walls tight and twitching around him, milking him a little bit more every time he pinches your throat or bites out another nasty comment. All this time he’s been so nice to you; he should have known you’d like him mean.   
“Fucking shit~ I was never gonna let Tim have you. You were mine the moment you walked into the manor.”
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threepandas · 3 days ago
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Bad End: Actions Speak
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"Be Silent."
Those were the first words commanded to me by the High Dragon Prince of the South. He did not want to hear me. Did not want to see me. To even be forced to endure, my obnoxious, insignificant, human presence. Any more then he absolutely had too. If it weren't for the fact that I had magic? He likely would have preferred to have me killed.
Just like the others.
I was a prisoner of war. One, which? I had no choice but to take part in. Had been drafted, by the humans. Only to be captured, by the dragons. All I had wanted? From my second chance at life? Was to live quietly. Study magic. Enjoy what I could not, before. Instead? I got warfare. Fear. The constant threat of death.
They needed me to open confidential human intelligence. Reverse engineer defenses and weapons. My safety and quality of life? Depended entirely on my compliance. And? If those reports and devices happened to be trapped to hell 'n back? By Mages FAR more skilled then myself?
Do it anyway. You are replaceable. Either you succeed... or you die.
You... hah... y-you really...
Really can say, I guess, n-now I know...? That...
That you really DO learn faster, under fire. Enduring pain curses. Fighting lethal curses, for your very life. Fire and drowning attacks. Lightning. Wind spells meant to choke the life of out of me, by sucking out all the air from my lungs. They... they really were creative, weren't they? My old colleagues.
Yes, sadistic, in ways I had never imagined. But also? Very, very creative.
I had the scars to prove it now.
All the while, as commanded, I did not talk. Did not DARE. Still do not. Even as I am shoved around. Dragged from tent to tent, building to building. Hurried along, like an inconvenience. A faulty, inefficient, piece of machinery, that dares eat their food and breathe their air. Slow and lagging, but sadly? Oh, sadly. They could not find better.
But I endure. Survive. I do not talk, so I can not offer. I give them nothing more then they demand. Malicious compliance. Nothing more, nothing less, then EXACTLY as you commanded, oh Wardens mine. My Keepers, foul and wretched. The holders of my chains. Someday... someday, this war will end. Or I will die, my luck running out, at long, long last.
And I?
I Will Be Free.
Once, long before this all, I had heard rumors. They say that talented humans, magically gifted humans, tended to be kept as glorified, pampered little pets, in the Vampiric lands. It... it sounds nice, now. To worry for nothing. To be protected. Adored and provided for, like some exquisite house cat, lounging in the sun. I could study again. Find someone nice.
....I worry.
You see, I... I think...
I may be breaking, around the edges of myself. Hairline fractures, born of stress. It's the isolation. Surrounded as I am. None of them are human, none of them will talk to me, at me. Anything at all. They follow the lead of their Prince. And he? Oh, he has made his distain for humanity clear.
Which begs the question. Why is he here?
Or rather, why am I? Dragged, from the ratty little cloth hovel they call "my tent", by the worn and patched to incoherence cloak I now wear, straight to the central command tent. Where the Prince is. The generals. The beating heart of the army itself. Dumped on the ground at his feet, I was fully expecting that to be it. That this would be the day.
They had found a better, less worn down, mage. A stronger one. A more obedient one. My services would no longer be... required.
I sat there. In the dirt. Eyes locked on his feet and waited. Palms splayed against the floor. Why bother fight? If I did THAT, they'd use me as "an example" for the NEXT mage. No. No, better to go quick. I had been reborn once. T-there was a possibility... however small... it... it might? Happen again?
Please, Gods. Please Gods, let it happen again.
But no. I was told, with judgment in his voice, by some general, to "get up". Ha! As though they were not directly responsible for my beaten down state. How dare. How DARE he judge me? I owed them nothing. Refused to die, in some short sighted tantrum of honor or pride.
I would LIVE, damn it. I MUST live. For how ever long I could. I wanted to be free again. To read and travel, do magic for magics sake. Never... NEVER see another dragon again.
Perhaps that was hateful. But damn it... I... I was so tired.
Nonetheless, I stood. Looked at no one and said nothing. Just an empty, ragged cloak with flesh inside. I am not here. I do not suffer. Unfocus your eyes and be far away. Yes, that's right, I tell myself, far... far away. It's like meditation. Just... ride the flow of magic. Do not call it. Merely observe. Let the colors drag you in. Be washed away. Far, far away.
I hear and do not hear, there. See and do not see. They can not touch me, can not hurt me, there is nothing and everything, in the Magics. It is... so... so BeAuTiFuL.
No wonder so many are lost. Drift and never come back.
I play a dangerous game, here.
But they can not hurt me.
No one can.
In here.
No answer comes then. But I am expected to work. Perhaps it is a show? Or they wish to verify, that I am indeed, doing what they keep me alive for. Nonetheless, I sit, in the corner, silent as I got to work. As old colleagues try to stop my heart, freeze my blood, rupture my organs. As burns roar over my skin and lightning crackles against canvas walls.
I do not scream. That would be too close to "speaking". I am not fool enough to give them an excuse. There is a belt I can bite. I use it often. Will have to salvage another, as this one is falling to pieces. That and a silencing spell? My screaming is muted.
Getting better at healing magic, I think. Either I have learned to numb the pain or I may have nerve damage. I doubt, now, that I will ever win awards. For my beauty. Too many scars. My arms are a wreck. My hands a travesty. It is nothing short of a miracle, that I have not LOST any fingers, to this.
Why am I here? Why? Why?
At least in my little hovel, I can curl up and weep. Emote. Can take breaks between bouts of pain and battles of magic. But here? Like a machine, stacks are dumped before me, and I am expected to perform. Do or die, human. We can always find another.
Through it all, haunting golden eyes watch. My pain, my exhaustion, all observed, giving away nothing, by that impassive royal face. I don't know what he WANTS.
Finally, after weeks of considering me, he decides to tell me. Comes to some conclusion, no input required. Why would it be? Of course. He is a High Prince. His power is great, his honor and name without equal. Why would he need MY input on anything.
"Did I know," he asked me, voice ponderous and musing, "That of all the mages his people have captured... I had lived the longest?"
I had not. But it did not suprise me.
He sat, considering me, splayed back in his chair like it was a throne, every bit the picture of a royal. A portrait of the man he was born to be. But the distain... the distain? Had... lessened. Not gone. Never gone. Gods, no. We peons were beneath him. Especially I, a mere human. But? Apparently I was not longer quite so wretched.
Our dear High Prince decided I should get a better tent. A new cloak. Actual medical supplies. What wonders.
It made me nervous. What cost, did these things come with? What expectation? Loyalty? I had offered none and never will. That would quickly become a problem. Still, I kept my head down. Always, always, keep your head down. Let the dragons die, for their stupid fucking war.
No longer replaceable. I discovered.
In the next big attack, as there was ALWAYS a next one, I wasn't evacuated last. As attacks fell. But FIRST, as the soilders were arriving. I was... was "essential personal". Shoved in an evac cart with the fancy strategists.
They started deliberately capturing mage supplies. Books and spell papers, chalks and high quality inks. Not just to disarm their opponents. Oh no. But to give to ME. I had... I had NEVER gotten supplies. The last time I had actually, truely, desperately, needed ink? I had been forced to use my own blood.
My hands actually shook. Touching such richs now. It overwhelmed, after so long, with nothing. I... I had healing books. Could actually look things up!
Curling up, before the piles of crates they dumped in front of my little tent, I didn't care, if they saw me cry. On my knees like an acolyte before the alter. Finally. FINALLY! Answers, armaments, and supplies. Relief, after so long? Was rain on desert sands. Burned skin left tender and screaming, to the cleansing mercy, of the softly weeping skies.
This, too, the High Prince saw.
No where to store them, of course. A gift given then taken away. Held just out of reach. Just long enough to give hope. All the better to torment you with it. Oh where we would we store, your useless little trinkets, human?
But I refuse to play the game. Fine. Take them. Take it all.
I need nothing.
Retreat into the Magics. They can not hurt me. I am not here. Far, far away. I am far, far away.
The High Prince, lounging and watchful, seems to have decided. No. The human things will go to him, actually, not to the fire. He watches with strange, considering eyes. In fact? I will make my self useful. Show my gratefulness. He is using valuable storage space on me, so I am to come before him and study. Prove it is worth it.
Is he not gracious? Now press your face to the dirt in thanks, human. Bow and scrape. Be glad, be honored, that your Liege is so kind.
He does not disagree, as they tell me these things. Why would he? They are his due. I think... I think I hate him. Hate them all. But the pull of books, of proper supplies, is simply too powerful. Back to that wretched tent I go. Under the staring eyes that dissect me so. Finally, I can heal my aching body.
He watchs me. As I study, improve, learn and grow. As old books are taken from me, shipped away somewhere, beyond my reaching, and new ones arrive. I desperately make notes. Hope those notes will be enough. Work and suffer and bleed. Somewhere, in the camp, I sense others.
The come and go. Bright lights that flare and then dim. Struggling and struggling, before finally going out. Some faster then others. The objects and messages they have me working on now? Are truely nasty. Again and again, I see the crests of Nobel houses and royal seals. How powerful, I wonder, have I become? Or is it simply... specialized?
A gift, for not dying.
Over the camp walls, I have begun to recognize the surroundings. The mountains and the valleys. The trees, in bloom. It seems wrong, that the world should be so beautiful, as everything is ending. The nation I grew up in, is falling. But... but we passed Heartriver two weeks back. And THAT? Was well within the border.
And from HERE... I can see the school.
The University of Magics. All I had ever wished, was to return. But... but not like this, never like this. I'm... gods. Oh Gods, I'm sorry. For my weakness. For not choosing to die. For not running at all, before it all began. I should have. But... but I was a coward. And now everyone else, must pay the price.
I stand outside my pathetic little tent and watch the horizon smoke. Burn.
Dragons are so very, very fond of fire.
Far away... j-just go far away... the Magic will always take you. Is always kind. Towards the tent I go. I remind myself, as I force myself to move, one step in front of the other? That if the worst comes to worst? I can just... Let Go. Go DEEP. So deep that no one and nothing can ever find me again. So far away, my body forgets I ever lived at all.
Just... just a soul. Floating along like a jellyfish, in the beautiful Allthings. The light and void, the far away and gone. I-It wouldn't even hurt. Just be like... like letting go of a balloon. I could be that balloon. Disappear into endless starlight...
But... BUT! I wont.. I can't! Not yet. Not until every other path has burned. Last resort. Only, ONLY, as a last resort.
(I refuse to acknowledge... how comforting the knowledge is. That I have a plan at all. A way out.)
Entering the tent, I head for "my table". At the High Prince' feet like a dog. A lovely little carpet, comfortable little pillows, a low table to work on. It would... honestly? It would be a lovely place setting. A delightful workstation. If it were not the context. The obvious, blatant, demeaning context.
Sit at his feet and behave. Be good and you're rewarded, be bad and you're punished. Brought little treats at HIS command? Sit on a pillow, on the floor, as they talk over your head? Ha ha... I? I half expected to one day show up to find someone holding a fucking collar.
If they fucking tried? I was going to set everything on FIRE. Even I, had limits.
However, it was just the Prince and I. Uncomfortable, but I could ignore him. Walking for my humiliating little seat, I noticed him watching me. Slowed. Why... why was he watching me? Awkwardly I paused. Did NOT want to be kneeling in front of a man that was staring that intently at me. Especially not so closely to a man, staring like that. The vibes were... off.
"Did you know, pet, that we actually have several rather old alliances amoung the Vampiric Royal Houses?" He said, breaking the strange silence.
'Pet, huh? Good to know he's at least fucking AWARE. I did NOT consent to that!' I seethe, in my head.
"It's been bothering me, you see. Your wretched state." He continues, completely unbothered that he might as well be talking to a statue. I stare, seethe, would give a limb at this point, to set him on fire. "You've suffered unbearably and I've done nothing to correct it, even though I could. We needed you for the war effort, you see, but now? Now, pet, we're nearly done. And I can finally care for you properly."
"Reward you, properly." The bastard says, calm and oh so reasonable, as though I had anything to do with him willingly.
"Honestly, it's long over due. The second I realized I wanted you as Mine, I should have stepped up to care for you properly. Officially. But, sadly, it would have been a conflict of interest. An abuse of power. Now, however? Now I can finally call on our allies for their support. Get you the medical assistance you so badly require."
A pleased smile stole across his face as he considered me.
"You'll make a lovely vampire. It was selfish of me, to cheat you of the years turning you sooner would have given you, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Our people needed us. I can swear to you now, pet, you will forever remain my favorite, even if I take a Queen."
Horror was like a gut punch, deliver by a fighter jet. I felt immediately and intensely sick. W-what? Frozen so completely I nearly forgot to breathe, I looked for ANY sign he may be joking. Exaggerating. But... but no. W-WHAT?? How. WHEN? At what point, in my torment? In my UTTER SILENCE? Did this man "fall in love"?!
H-How can you LOVE a women you've never-?! No. No, I KNEW how.
You decide you like the IDEA of them. The shape of their body. You project onto them your OWN narrative and decide it is a love story. Fuck. FUCK!! I was... this was... no no NO! I REFUSED. Like HELL was I could to live, trapped for DECADES if not CENTURIES, the pretty little war bride of a tyrant!
The High Prince gets up and walkes towards me. Sweeps me into terrifyingly powerful arms. When he smiles? There are fangs. Deadly and hardly the comfort he thinks they are. We are a laughable contrast. Richs and rags, power and prisoner, royal and the woman who might just burn the world to escape. Shit. SHIT. I was scared of him before.
And that's BEFORE he decided he loved me.
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