#back to back Despair prompts? it's more likely than you think

[gay-for-the-snz]

Day 9: Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker (M, cold)

This guy is suuuuch a drama queen and this was one of the first prompts I immediately assigned to someone so I could give it to him. Delving a little more into party dynamics, and enjoying a prettyboy (former) noble with a drippy, dramatic headcold. 2.4k

⁂

He's practically wilted in the bed, still in his nightclothes--though the nicer set of them. If he's going to be seen, he isn't going to let them catch him dead in anything less than whatever the best he has on hand is. The handkerchiefs are piled on the blankets where he's abandoned them after their use.

"Alright, then, you're hardly dying." Corva's hand resting on his forehead is batted away churlishly. "You've caught a chill, you aren't on death's door."

"Ohh, let the poor bastard wilt if he must." Damian's taken to lounging on the chair at the side of the bed, his boots up on the mattress as he riffles a deck of cards. "He's clearly missing having a fleet of servants to tend to his every whim, day and night at his beck and call."

"You wouldn't last a day as a servant in my household."

"You wound me. Here I thought I would be your maid of all."

"You're horrid. I don't know why I even allow you into this room."

"Because," Laïla interjects, "you want all the attention you can get. Overdramatic is what you are."

He lets his lashes flutter, taking hold of the latest handkerchief with a series of shivery little gasps. "Hh...h-hdt'sshYUE!" He groans in the wake of it, sniffles wetly. He's sick as a dog, truly. He's not going to make it--or at least that's what he's claiming. They don't believe him, but he feels like he may wither at any moment and breathe his last.

And, of course, if no one is willing to pay him the attention he so clearly needs and deserves, he'll just force them to. He already made them stop travel early, to be able to rest in a town at an inn instead of in a tent in the middle of the wilderness where there will be no comforts or amenities aside from whatever they've brought and provided themselves. He deserves far more than that--in fact, he demands it.

So here they are, with him pitifully posted up in the bed, and his party members sitting around him. They're stuck with only one room--and it took a bit of haggling before finally dropping his name--and Laïla's promise of a performance--to secure even this one. The pulled strings have only gotten them this, and nothing more.

"You're going to have to move, you know, so that we can lay down as well."

"You're going to have to move me yourself." Corva moves to make good on this threat, and he immediately recants. "On reconsideration, I will give you my grace and allow you to lay down, but you must understand that you may wake next to a corpse come morning."

"Don't worry, lordship--I'll be here to keep watch over you all night." The rogue's lazy grin is disconcerting and insincere, and he can only imagine how many women have received this exact look from him before.

"I would do better alone than to rely on your patronage for my safety." He scoots over with a huff, but does nothing about the handkerchiefs littering the bed where they're intending to lay. They can move them themselves, he's busy languishing over here.

Laïla scoots in first, her frame warm against his side where she settles into the bed. Corva curls in beside her, the toned muscle of her frame on display in the nightclothes she's donned for the evening. The women are happy to ignore him, and he's intent on not allowing them to do so. He's much too important and ailing to be left alone and relegated to the back burner like this.

He can feel the need to sneeze building, and he allows it to happen unimpeded. Blushed nostrils twitch in irritation, and he turns towards them as if to ask a question. "Tomorrow, are we--hh-! HdtshYUE! 'dtsSHIEW!"

They both cry out in dismay and irritation, wiping the spray off of their skin. "What is wrong with you? You complained about this weeks ago when it was merely allergies from me, and now you're doing this when you're certainly catching?"

"Corva may be bound by an oath not to harm you, but I'm certainly not. Do you want to see the full extent of what a bard can do in combat right here in this inn?" Laïla puts a defensive hand in front of her wife, both as if to shield her, but more importantly to hold her back from reacting.

"I would never do anything to you on purpose," he lies. "I'm simply sick--you'd blame me for something out of my control? You'd make me feel guilty for something so simple as taking ill and being symptomatic? Shame on the both of you."

Damian doesn't interject, just flips the cards between his fingers with a little hum of amusement. He makes eye contact with him briefly, before pointedly ignoring him. He can't reward him by paying him much heed--he's got to play hard to get, lest the rogue get so too haughty and think that he can influence him in any way.

Laïla grabs hold of one of his horns, and pulls him closer by it. "You may be a noble where you come from, but in this room you're no more than any of the rest of us. We will see that you don't suffer under our care, but don't think that this means that we will wait on your hand and foot like we're the servants you're so proud of ordering around."

He fusses in protest at the treatment, bats her hands away from where she's grabbing him like he's an unruly kitten scruffed by its mother. "There's no need to handle me so roughly! I'm ill, you would treat a man on his deathbed like this?"

The rogue kicks back his chair, rocking it back onto the back legs and balancing it. "If you were truly on your deathbed, you would only be doing us a favor in sparing us of your incessant complaints."

"Corva, can't you lay on hands, cure me of this foul disease?"

"I could, but it would be a waste to use that on something so minor. I don't abuse my powers on a whim, especially if it's only because you've been complaining and inconvenienced. I think it will humble you to have to deal with something on your own for once--a test of character and moral fortitude."

"My gods! You're a cruel woman, aren't you? You'd abandon me, a poor wretch, in my moment of need because you think It would teach me some lesson?" He presses the back of one hand to his forehead, and falls limp against the pillows he's stacked like a nest to ease his weary body. "You'll speak ill of me when I've perished, I'm sure of it. I can't rely on any of you to keep my good name intact, nor to spare me this suffering."

The bard actually sits up over him, anger flashing in dark eyes. "Oh, come off it--in case you've forgotten, Stormweather, we've been quite accommodating to all of your fits thus far. We stopped early to let you sleep in an inn rather than traveling further and making camp, we've gotten you tinctures and tonics and lotions and potions and all manner of things from the local cleric--we have gone far out of our way for you, and you've treated us as if we've thrown you to a pack of dire wolves and slammed the door behind us. You're no noble--you're merely a selfish brat who's never learned to stand on his own."

He feels the sting of her words, some sharp little pain in him like a rough blow. She has proved herself quite fond of vicious mockery whenever she finds the opportunity for it. Corva reaches over her wife's shoulder, places a hand on his--cure wounds. He can feel the pain retreat from her act. "Laïla, love, let him be. No one is going to change anyone's minds, and we're all tired. We'd do well to rest, and see how we're faring at daybreak."

She shifts the arrangement of bodies, putting herself into the middle, and he and the bard each pointedly turn to face away from one another. "Yes, we'd all do well to rest. If I live to see the morning, we'll reassess then."

⁂

When he awakes, it's to someone shaking his shoulder. The light streaming in through the window tells him it's crept well past dawn, stretching further into the middle hours. They've let him sleep longer than they had said they would. He sniffles, and even that isn't enough to stop his nose from dripping onto the sheets as thin and watery as tears. He grimaces. Disgusting.

Laïla is the only person in the room with him still, and she hands him one of the handkerchiefs with a wince. The soft cloth is still painful on his nose, his skin so accustomed to much gentler conditions than their travels have been.

"Come, warlock. We've been overly indulgent in giving you your rest--I expect not to hear any complaints for at least the first hour of travel for it."

He makes it all of a half hour before he's taken to making them all know just how poorly he's feeling.

Midday sees him laying in the back of the cart with a hand dramatically splayed over his forehead, brows pinched together in misery and a sigh escaping his lips every moment or so. His nose is blushed a warm magenta, the red of irritation leeching through the lavender of his skin.

Damian is seated beside him, perched and watching the landscape rolling by out from beneath where the canvas cover has been rolled up to give them a view. He's hardly a scout, but he's perceptive enough to be an asset when keeping watch. Laïla is perched up front with the animals, the paladin sitting sentry at her side. He is the only one who isn't doing anything particularly useful--and how could they expect him to? He's practically dying.

"Hdt'shyUE!" He lets out an uncovered sneeze, and groans. His nose is leaking like a sieve, no matter how many times he tends to it with his handkerchief.

"You're a menace," the rogue says. "The rest of us will be in this same state soon enough, and you know we'll expect you to return the favor."

"What favor have you done me? I could understand a case for the women having done something for me, even as meager as it is, but you have done nothing aside from sitting somewhere in the same room and reading or playing cards or trying to chase any lady with a pulse and a bit of breath who hasn't already rejected you."

"You're wrong."

"Oh?"

"I chase the men, too."

He rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, you're right. What a magnificent, irreplaceable service that's been to me. I'll be sure to return the favor if--if--you find yourself in a similar state."

"You're only setting yourself up to suffer, not even attempting to keep any of this to yourself. If you get Laïla sick, she'll be displeased, but manageable. If you get Corva sick...well, you'll see what I was talking about before."

He eyes the back of her head up front, the sunlight gleaming on her polished armor. "Isn't a paladin supposed to be immune to disease?"

"Many of them, certainly, but not all. Magical ailments she's relatively impervious. Common, natural ailments? Not so much."

"H-hdt-! 'dtsHIEW! Hdt'shYUUE!" Another pair of them tumble out of him uncovered, the cloud of spray catching the sunlight and the shine off of her armor like stardust in the daytime. He blows his nose, the sound long and liquid, and then collapses back with another sigh. "I'm the one who's ill, here. Why are we focusing on her hypothetical ailment rather than my very real one?"

"Because I know it drives you out of your mind to be ignored, when all you want is my attention."

He huffs and decides there's nothing to be gained by continuing to hang with this reprobate, instead climbing up front to wedge himself between the pair of women.

Laïla hums in acknowledgement of his presence. "You've decided to join us in the world of the living, I see?"

"I couldn't tolerate him as my only company for a second longer." And, of course, he needs the two of them to have it impressed upon them again just how miserable he is, and how much attention they should be paying him because he is sick and clearly this is a problem much larger than himself. One they should be doing something about.

He coughs, and though it isn't the most painful thing in the world, he groans in anguish as if it is, puts a hand to his throat with a little whimper.

"Laïla, my dearest love, maybe we ought to stop in town again tonight if we come across one...it would only divert us a small way from our path, and he does look like he's getting worse." She touches his forehead, and he feigns that he may swoon. One of the many perks of being a warlock, he supposes--it's always rather easy to deceive someone with a little theatricality. "You don't feel any warmer than usual, but you look like you're feeling very poorly."

"I am." Again, he blows his nose, wet and miserable sounding, in a way that makes the pair of them grimace. "I think a warm bed in an inn would do me a world of good...I'm already getting worse as it is, I don't think keeping me out like this, forcing me to sleep in a tent on the ground in the cold, would be good for my condition, frail as I am."

Laïla looks doubtfully past him to her wife, but relents at the softly pleading expression she's met with. "Fine, fine. If he isn't improving by early evening, we'll make a diversion to set up in an inn for the night. Consider yourself lucky that Corva is so committed to the wellbeing of others--more than her own, I might add."

"Corva, you're a saint." He clasps her hand in his, before he crawls back into the back to convalesce in peace.

Damian raises a brow at the little performance, but Despair simply hums in satisfaction, secure in the knowledge that he's won himself a comfortable bed for the night.

[helaintoloki]

Can you write a fic between Bucky and an avenger reader (maybe she’s just a little older than Peter (like she’s in her mid 20s)and she always had a crush on Bucky)

notes: thank you for sending this in ! i hope you enjoy

warnings: fluff, mentions of night terrors

summary: you think you’re too young for Bucky to be interested in you. ironically, Bucky thinks he’s too old for you to be interested in him

“So how did that date go?” Wanda asks while watching you mindlessly scroll through the selection of movies Tony has on the entertainment room TV.

“I bailed,” Natasha admits shamelessly with an innocent shrug, prompting both Wanda and yourself to turn to her in shock. “I’m not really interested in giving up my personal time for something as trivial as a blind date.”

You hum thoughtfully at her response, only half listening as Wanda begins to pester her for more details about the man she had stood up. The three of you are enjoying a rare night of peace in the tower after forcing the men to vacate the premises and allow you to have the space to yourselves. The three of you are outnumbered on the team, so sometimes a break from the intense amounts of testosterone are needed for you all to decompress. Girl’s night is a simple tradition, but you all enjoy each other’s company more than anything.

“What about you, y/n?” Natasha prompts while gently nudging your side and breaking you from your daze. “Any guys out there you think are first date material?”

You shift uncomfortably now that the spotlight is on you and try to mask the embarrassment that washes over you in response to the question. You know your answer, but you think you’d rather die than admit the truth. You try to remain as nonchalant as possible by offering a seemingly uninterested shrug and answering with a quiet ‘No,’ but you unfortunately can’t hide the truth from a mind reader.

“She has a crush on Barnes,” Wanda blurts out before she can stop herself, causing your eyes to widen in horror at being exposed. Natasha lets out an amused huff while her counterpart quickly utters out apologies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say it. It’s just your thoughts get so loud when you think about him.”

“You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that,” Natasha jokes much to your dismay.

“Is it really that obvious?” You groan before allowing your head to fall back against the couch in defeat. Wanda pats your arm sympathetically, obviously still guilty about her slip up. You’re just thankful no one else is in the tower other than the three of you.

“Not to him,” the Widow consoles with a faint smile, “the man isn’t exactly the greatest at navigating social interactions. But I’ve seen the way you look at him from across the room and how your eyes light up when Steve puts you together on missions. You like him.”

“It’s pathetic, I know,” you admit with a defeated sigh, looking between the two in despair. “I don’t even know how it happened! One day we’re just teammates and the next I’m suddenly realizing just how blue his eyes are instead of paying attention to a debrief.”

“There’s nothing pathetic about your feelings,” Wanda says with a comforting smile, “it’s only natural. Maybe you should try talking to him about it.”

You look at her as if she’s grown a second head before scoffing at her suggestion. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I’d ever be his type. Besides, he probably sees me as some kid considering I’m only twenty-six and he’s basically a hundred years old.”

Natasha can’t help but to let out a small chuckle at your predicament before taking the remote from your fidgety hands. You don’t exactly appreciate her amusement towards your self-depreciating rant, but you know she means well, and you also know you have a tendency to be a bit dramatic.

“Don’t sell yourself short, y/n/n,” she advises before finally deciding to hit play on a random comedy movie. “Remember that you’re the prize, and any guy or girl would be lucky to have you. Besides, you’ll never know what could happen if you don’t give it a shot.”

The conversation ends there as your trio becomes engrossed with the movie, but her words linger on your mind for the rest of the night. You really doubt Bucky could have anything but platonic feelings for you, and it would be embarrassing to confess your feelings only to have him shoot you down. You don’t think you could show your face around the tower again if that were to happen, but you also know that you would give anything to win the super soldier’s heart.

Your inner turmoil persists, and you go to bed that night unsure of how to move forward.

~~~

“Barnes, y/l/n, how are you holding up?”

“We’re pretty much fucked, Cap,” you grunt into your earpiece after being slammed against a wall. You thought the room had been cleared, but you were soon proven wrong by the assailants who had been hiding in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Bucky was currently taking on three on his own while you tried to fight off the woman who seemed hell bent on killing you. “If I survive this will I still be written up for swearing?”

“Focus, y/n,” Natasha’s voice chimes in. “Do you guys need backup?”

You manage to chance a glance over at Bucky and see that he’s fairing rather well on his own, and after returning your attention back to your own attacker, you swiftly lift your knee so that it slams into her gut and forces her to stumble back. It doesn’t take you long to disarm her and render her unconscious so that she no longer proves to be a threat, and you’re finally able to return to your own task.

“No, we’re good. Bucky should be able to hold them off while I plant the chip into the computer system,” you finally reply before setting to work. “It shouldn’t take long.”

“I hope so because they’ve got reinforcements already on the way,” Tony alerts over the earpiece. “You need to be out of there within the next five minutes.”

“Yep, you got it,” you affirm before looking over your shoulder to see Bucky finishing off the last of your attackers. His broad shoulders rise and fall with his labored breaths, hair falling perfectly into place and blue eyes looking up to meet your gaze. You swallow nervously and return your attention to the computer in an attempt to act inconspicuous. Luckily for you, the files you came for have been uploaded. “Alright, let’s get out of here before someone slams me up against another wall.”

“What?” Bucky retorts, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and cheeks slowly turning red at your poor choice of words. You pay him no mind and begin your trek towards the exit, though your stomach flips at the mere thought of having him cage you in against a wall and having you at his complete mercy. You shudder and try to shake the thoughts away, but it’s hard to do so when the man in question is right beside you matching your brisk pace.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes scanning your figure for any sign of injuries.

“Definitely going to have a bruise in the morning, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you note with an easygoing smile.

“I’m on dinner duty tonight,” Bucky notes thoughtfully before kicking down the doors and clearing your path to the outside. “You interested in lending a hand?”

“Oh, definitely. You and Steve can’t be trusted with dinner anymore after the last time.”

“I’ll have you know tuna casserole was a popular dish back in my day,” he retorts defensively only to make you laugh instead.

“Okay, grandpa, whatever you say,” you giggle much to his annoyance. He retaliates by playfully nudging your side with his elbow so that you stumble away, but he can’t hide the amused smile on his face at your antics.

“It’s about time,” Tony retorts impatiently after you two finally make it to the Quinjet. “I’d appreciate some sense of urgency, you know.”

“You said be back in five minutes, it’s only been three,” you reply defensively only to earn an eye roll from the man.

“You and Barnes can flirt with each other on your own time,” he quips to your dismay. You immediately feel yourself heat with embarrassment and do everything your power to avoid looking at Bucky who shifts uncomfortably beside you.

“We weren’t-“ Bucky starts to say only for Tony to interrupt.

“I don’t need the details, I just need both of your butts on the quinjet now.”

You’re mortified as you step foot inside where the rest of the team sits waiting. All eyes land on you and Bucky, and you try to ignore their gazes as you take your seat beside Wanda.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she whispers after leaning in closer to you, “his thoughts about you are loud, too.”

You swallow nervously and chance at a peek at the super soldier only to find he’s already looking right at you. You immediately turn your gaze towards the floor before sinking down sullenly into your seat.

It’s going to be a long flight home.

~~~

The tower is silent when you make your way to the living room in search of a distraction from the terrible nightmare you’d just endured. Your body still trembles with unease despite the blanket you have wrapped tightly around your figure, and it was times like these where you heavily contemplated begging Wanda to use her powers on you despite her reluctance to manipulate your mind.

There isn’t anything good playing this late on TV, but you don’t mind watching reruns of old sitcoms if it means you don’t have to sit in silence. You fixate your gaze on the screen, but you’re hardly paying any mind to your surroundings as you simply begin to dissociate. No one knows about the night terrors or the bad dreams that plague you after missions; you fear coming off as weak or unprepared for the life of an Avenger by telling any of your teammates about your dilemma, so you’ve learned to deal with it on your own by escaping through trivial distractions.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t detect the presence of someone else in the room until a hand rests on your bare shoulder. You jump, obviously startled as your wide eyes look to the perpetrator sitting beside you. Bucky immediately yanks his hand back and raises his hands in surrender, his features apologetic at having startled you.

“Sorry, sorry,” he immediately says. “I tried calling your name first but you weren’t exactly responding. You okay?”

“Yeah, I um- sorry,” you utter with a soft shake of your head before swallowing, “I just got lost in thought I guess.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

You normally would have insisted you were fine and tried to change the topic, but there was something about the gentleness in his eyes and the comfort his presence brought you that made it easier for you to open yourself up. You sigh, shifting in place so that you’re facing him now. He offers you a an encouraging smile and already you can feel yourself melting.

“Sometimes I have night terrors,” you confess quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it out loud. “They usually tend show up after a mission or an intense fight. When they happen I just come out here and watch some TV until my brain shuts up enough for me to get some sleep. Pathetic, huh?”

Despite the humorless laugh you let out, Bucky frowns before uttering, “I don’t think that’s pathetic at all. I get it. This job is tough, and sometimes you see things you can’t unsee no matter how hard you try. Don’t beat yourself up for having a normal human reaction to trauma.”

“You sound just like a therapist,” you tease, prompting him to let out a sheepish laugh in return.

“I may have picked up a thing or two in therapy myself,” he admits. A beat passes before he takes your hand in his own and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Just know that if you ever need help chasing the nightmares away, I’m right here.”

Your heart pounds in your chest while the warmth of his hold encompasses your hand and spreads throughout your entire body. His eyes are full of sincerity, but you also detect something that you’ve never seen from him before. This look is different than the ones he normally gives you, more intimate, and you find yourself nervously biting the inside of your cheek while trying to decipher what it could be.

“Thank you,” you finally voice with a tired smile. Wanting to lighten the mood, you ask, “How come you’re up this late, anyway?”

“Made the mistake of having a cup of coffee after dinner,” he confesses with an embarrassed chuckle. “You mind if I keep you company?”

“Of course not, silly,” you retort as if it’s the most absurd question you’ve ever heard.

You and Bucky settle into a comfortable silence as you tune in to the sitcom playing on the TV screen. A sense of calm has washed over your body now that you’re no longer being tormented by the remnants of your nightmare, but there’s still a part of you that remains nervous around the man you secretly harbor feelings for. You find your mind drifting back to what Wanda had said you earlier and wonder if there was any truth to her words. What did she mean by it?

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky prompts after the episode ends.

“Anything,” you reassure him, grabbing the remote to lower the television’s volume so that he can have your undivided attention.

“I know it’s just your way of poking fun at me, but when you call me ‘grandpa’ or ‘old man,’ is that… that’s not how you see me, is it? Old?”

You’re honestly taken back by his comment, not expecting him to have thought this heavily into the subject. Of course you knew the man was out of his time, and if he had been given the chance to age naturally you most likely would not be sitting here on this couch with him, but you had never thought less of him because of the fact.

“No, of course not! Honestly sometimes I forget you’re technically 106.”

Bucky lets out a chuckle at that, but there’s still doubt lingering on his features as he self-consciously looks down at his hands in his lap. “I just see you with Peter and Wanda sometimes and wonder if I’m too old for you to be hanging around with.”

You shift closer to Bucky so that you can rest a comforting hand on his bicep, prompting him to lift his head and meet your softhearted gaze. Your entire being emanates warmth and tenderness, and it draws the soldier right in to you. You have no idea the effect you have on him or the way a single brush of your fingertips against his skin can satiate the yearning he feels every time he looks at you. Wanda had been telling you the truth; his thoughts are always loud when you’re around him.

“I guess sometimes it’s easier to connect with them considering we’re closer in age, but I like that you and I are so different because of it. I think there’s more to learn with you and more to appreciate. I genuinely enjoy any minute that’s spent with you,” you confess adamantly, prompting the corner of his lips to quirk up. “Besides, it’s going to take a lot more than a number to scare me away from you.”

Bucky only responds by wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling you into a long awaited hug. You try to stifle your gasp of surprise at suddenly being so close to him, and you hope he doesn’t pick up on the fact that your heart is nearly beating out of your ribcage. You feel his lips press to the top of your head and swear you must be dreaming this because there’s no way the Avenger you’ve pining after for months is now so boldly giving you his affection.

“How about we go away for a weekend?” He finally says after holding you in silence for some time.

“Go away?” You repeat, curiously peeking up at him.

“Leave New York, explore somewhere new,” Bucky reiterates, his features relaxed as he looks down upon you with an adoring gaze. “Be regular people for a few days.”

“I’d like that,” you profess quietly, sighing in contentment when the man pulls you against his chest once more before settling back against the couch. You can feel your eyelids already starting to become heavy, and the soothing circles he rubs into your back doesn’t help. You don’t want this moment with Bucky to end, but you also know that there’s so much to look forward to.

“Bucky?” You hum quietly after allowing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Yes, doll?”

“When we go away for the weekend, can we be regular people in a relationship?”

You feel his body gently shake from the quiet laugh he lets out at your response. You feel his lips press to your forehead as you drift to sleep, missing his answer when he replies, “I’d want nothing more.”

~~~

You slept through the rest of the night without issue; Bucky’s comforting presence was enough to lull you into a peaceful rest, and you entrusted him to chase away the nightmares for you. The two of you remained entangled together on the couch all the way until sunrise, and neither of you had bothered to consider the repercussions of your actions in the morning.

“I feel bad waking them,” Steve sighs, arms crossed over his chest as he and Natasha look down on your sleeping forms. There’s an almost proud smile on his face as he takes in the sight of his best friend holding the woman of his dreams in his arms.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let them sleep a little longer,” Natasha notes with a knowing smile before promptly ushering the blond out of the entertainment room. Unbeknownst to either of you, by the time you wake up you’ll be the talk of the tower.

“So how much do you owe Wanda?” Steve asks after quietly shutting the door behind him. Natasha lets out a disappointed sigh.

“I’m out twenty bucks. I bet it would take at least another week before they finally got their heads out of their asses and confessed. But I guess as long as they’re happy…”

“That’s all that matters,” Steve finishes for her with a nod.

The team is happy they’ll no longer have to endure your obvious pining over each other, and they make sure to tell you so when you finally wake up.

It’s an eventful morning to say the least.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

CAPABLE HANDS

summary: marcus acacius is tired of his hands only bringing pain and destruction

pairing: marcus acacius x wife!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: i don’t think there’s any warning on this one guys. i kept it very pg-13. there’s like one mention of sex but blink and you’ll miss it.

a/n: hello everybody!! so my great friend kiwi ( @yxtkiwiyxt ), aka the biggest javi fan ever, created the 'never have i ever' challenge for the pedro pascal fandom way back in january and i decided to give it a little try. it's such a fun challenge, so if you're a fan of pedro pascal's characters hop on over to her blog and you'll be fed for a while.

in true nikki fashion, i'm very late but she thankfully extended it.

as you can probably tell i got marcus acacius because that man is just straight out of my fantasies and my prompt was 'never have i ever built something with my own hands'.

this came to me so fast. the moment she gave me the prompt i just knew! that being said it did take me like one month too long to finish it (again bad nikki habits).

my sincerest apologies empress kiwi 🥺 hopefully this is to your liking.

enjoy 🤍

His hands were made for war—for fighting, for holding a sword and not letting go until his arms felt like lead and the enemy was taken care of.

They're full of callouses and wounds that'll never heal. Scars that remind him of the person he is. General Marcus Acacius.

Despite the current leadership, he loved serving Rome. He was indebted to Rome. It is his home, and it forever will be.

He was proud of his achievements. He's come farther than he ever imagined, yet as the years go by, he can't help but feel that seed of guilt in the root of his stomach sprout bigger with each passing battle.

There comes a point where he cannot justify the cruelty and viciousness with which they fight.

They tear families apart, kill brave men defending their own homes, burn villages to the ground, and loot in the name of Rome.

For what?

More power, more riches, more glory—all while the country grows impoverished and hunger takes its claim on those less fortunate.

He yearns to return to glorious Rome. Beautiful Rome with marble pillars and vivid sceneries. The place where his lovely wife, you, waits for him after each conquest.

General Acacius yearns to forget.

You're the one who reminds him his hands are capable of more. They are gentle when he holds you. When he grabs onto your hips until you're spilling over him.

They're the ones you hold as you stroll in the gardens. Or when you insist on heading to the market despite your status.

They are soft, patient, encouraging.

His hands that tuck your hair behind your ear when a rebellious curly strand tickles your face.

And yet he always falls into that deep despair. Nights when he can't sleep, thinking of all the damage he's done to innocent people. He did it willingly at one point, chasing that infamous glory where Gladiator games would be held in his honor upon returning to battle.

Now, that glory mocks him. It's a mirage in the desert. Beautiful from afar but bitter up close.

He's selfish. Marcus Acacius could stop, but it would mean his death. He can deal with death, but he will not be the cause of yours.

So, as he untangles himself from your arms, Marcus goes outside to sit and watch over the city, vigilant. He remembers the market and the artisans building beautiful things with their hands—hands calloused and scarred from their skill, not weapons and death.

They say life mimics art.

He wishes to use his hands for more than striking. He wants to see his hands as more capable like you do.

His greatest skill, besides being a swordsman, is being observant. What makes General Acacius great is the way he's able to analyze a situation and strike at the weakest point. The next time you drag him to the market, he watches over the artisans, the tools they use, and their creations.

"Is anything the matter, husband?" You ask, grasping his arm. You don't miss the way he stares at the knife in the artisan's hand, and you worry.

Your husband doesn't like it much when you come to the market. He doesn't believe it to be entirely safe for a woman of your standing. Still, your beloved Marcus spoils you and lets you come. Accompanied by him, of course, and guards when he is not able to join you.

His focus shifts from the skillful shaping of the block of wood to you. He softly smiles, pressing his hand upon yours. "Are you ready?"

You nod with a smile, chattering about the fresh fruit you picked and the pastries you'll ask the cooks to bake for you. Woefully unaware of your husband's purchases.

That same night, when the same old nightmare wakes him, Marcus untangles himself from your limbs and sneaks away to a bench in the gardens. Under the stars, he looks at the block of wood in his left hand and the sculpting knife in his right.

As the knife starts to chip away at the wood, the more he distracts his mind from his duty as a General. In a way, he turns mindless, focusing on the rough edges and the splinters, successfully filling his hands with new creative wounds.

At first, you're blissfully unaware since Marcus always returns to your side before you wake. Then, wooden figures start being placed by your bedside, with rough initials scratched on the bottom.

Your dear husband never cared to mention his new hobby or the fact he was gifting you his work. It was unspoken. You cherish each one of his small sculptures, saving them and leaving them on display.

With each one, he only got better and better. Pride swelled on your chest as you witnessed his artistry grow.

It is refreshing to see him work through his worry with art instead of violence. You, more than anyone, know what ails him when he returns home fresh with new wounds.

There is no war raging around him, yet it remains in his mind. The Gladiator games do not entertain him as they do the rest of the Romans. He's forced to sit and watch the strongest prisoners fight all over again, killing what remains of his conquests.

His reluctance to go to the markets fades away. Marcus Acacius joins you a bit too eagerly, looking for a moment to observe the artisans and the skills they implement.

You take your time, inspecting each fruit and vegetable you have in your hands. Simply to give him more time.

The more he joins you, the more they notice him watching. A quiet, old artisan going as far as beckoning Marcus to come closer and ask the questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Are you ready?" You ask when there is no more to do, joining his side.

"If you are done, yes," he says aloof, leaving coin to the artisan who taught him a few things.

You smile, resisting the urge to giggle. Your big, strong husband avoids talking about what he finds enjoyable.

Warriors are not often seen as artists.

One night, you wake and find him missing from the bed. His spot is cold and empty; he's been gone a while. Unable to sleep, knowing he is awake, you search for him, a shawl wrapped around your shoulders to avoid the chill of the night.

A torch is lit in the garden, and you follow it like a moth to a flame. That's where your husband sits on a bench, knife in hand, and wood scrapings littering the trimmed grass.

"I was wondering where you found the time," you say, shuffling closer and sitting beside him. Shoulders brushing comfortably.

Marcus' head turns towards you, red dusting his tanned cheeks. "I can't sleep," he admits.

"Is it the nightmares?"

He nods, carving smaller details onto the wood, giving it a recognizable shape. His hands have new calluses from gripping the wood and the knife's differently shaped handle.

"You've become quite the woodcarver," you say, changing the subject he does not like talking about.

You won't push him. He has enough in his mind. You're thankful he's not like the other Generals who find distractions at the brothels.

"I've got a long way to go," he responds, turning the wood figure in his hands to assess it.

"Not tonight, though," you tell him, placing your hand over his. "You must join me in bed. It's far too cold without you."

Marcus Acacius softly smiles at you, nodding before placing the wooden figure and knife down. "Whatever my lady wife says."

This small habit of leaving the bed in the middle of the night does not cease. His hands itch to do something, to create, and he listens.

In the end, you're happy if he's happy. You let him be, sometimes dragging him back to bed when you need him most.

At times, you join him, curling next to him, eyes drooping but refusing to leave him. The movement of his hard muscles lulls you to sleep as he works at shaping the pieces of wood.

"There are far more comfortable places to rest, my wife," Marcus says, the low timbre of his voice rousing you from the sleep that threatens to take you under.

"The best place to be is by my husband's side," you sigh, getting more comfortable and ignoring his request. "If you wish me abed, you have to be there."

The time comes when the emperor twins become restless and order him to conquer in their stead. It is time to sully his hands once more with the blood of warriors protecting their home.

With one last wooden figure placed beside your bed and a kiss on your head, he leaves fearfully, wondering if this would be the one time he won't return.

You clutch the figure day in and day out, afraid if you let it out of your sight, bad news will arrive. You press your lips against the smooth surface when you miss him most, bringing it to your chest as if you could feel him close by the simple action.

In his absence, you learn you have been blessed by the gods and are expecting a child. More than ever, do you wish for your husband's safe return.

Many months after his departure, news of the battalion's return spread across Rome in a matter of hours. Your lady-in-waiting heard it from the servants who had gone to the market earlier in the day.

"My lady, your General has returned," she whispers excitedly, helping you get ready for the day.

"Are you sure?" You gasp, clutching your rounded belly in anticipation. Many months have gone by, and you did not think he'd make it for the birth.

The fact that no soldiers come to your door is reassuring. Your husband may be injured but not dead, and that is enough.

"He's been sighted joining the Emperors."

He comes like a breeze in the night, quiet and stealthy. With no need of unnecessary fanfare, he only wished to see you.

Marcus Acacius needed your reassurance once more. That his hands were not to be stained permanently.

He finds you by the fountain, looking as beautiful as ever. Hair curled and loose, front strands pulled back but with that stubborn fringe that refused to be held back. Such a reflection of your being.

A cloak hung around your shoulders, hiding your most precious treasure unbeknownst to him.

"My lady," he calls out, standing a few feet from you.

You look up from the pond of swimming fish, eyes round with surprise and excitement. "Marcus Acacius," you gasp.

He's back home. New scars, healed and unhealed, litter his tanned skin. His hair longer, pushed away from his eyes. He is safe, and he is sound.

You stand to approach him and greet him properly. Your feet drive you forward, and the movement pushes the cloak back, exposing your round belly.

He's always been so observant. It would be hard to miss.

Your arms curl around his neck, bringing him into an embrace. You thank the gods above for his safe return.

Acacius is frozen as his mind catches up with what he's seen. Such a reaction would get him killed in battle. You cup his face while pulling back, "Husband?" The tickle from the scruff on his cheeks is a comfort.

He's not in battle. Marcus is home with you.

His palms softly come to your belly. He's gentle, extremely so. "You're with child?"

"Yes," you say breathlessly, awaiting his reaction.

"You're carrying our child?" His voice is thick with emotion. Unshed tears fill his eyes as Marcus kneels on the ground, palms feeling the soft kick of his unborn child.

He only ever wished to have children with you so they'd take after their mother. It's been in the back of both of your minds, but his role as a General often took precedence.

"I only found out once you left," you confess, placing your hands over his. "Are you happy?"

"This is the happiest I've ever been," he says, standing to finally place his lips upon yours. There's a grunt in the back of his throat as he pulls you close or as close as your belly would permit. "You've made me the happiest man in the world, my wife."

General Marcus Acacius has a new purpose in life. He is becoming a father of a baby boy or baby girl. Nonetheless, he wishes to leave war far behind.

He needs to be in Rome to watch them grow and become noble people. He does not want to leave for months or years at a time, and he does not want them to see him in deep despair when he returns from such physical and mental battles.

Whenever he returns from war, the nightmares become more vivid, keeping him awake. His hands itch to create and to distract his busy brain.

This time, it is no exception.

Untangling himself from your tight hold, Marcus Acacius walks to the gardens. Picking up his woodcarving tools along the way. His hands itch for a new project, and what better project than building his child's crib.

sorry it wasn't very romancy, i really focused on general marcus acacius inner turmoil, don't we love a troubled man?

[heissenn]

𝐇𝐒𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 featuring: silver wolf, lingsha, the herta, kafka, sparkle tags: fluff, self-aware au

silverwolf

"you're kidding me," you hear silverwolf's annoyed voice through your headphones.

silverwolf watches through your camera as you put both your hands together and lower your head in apology. before you can say your sorry excuses, the hacker sighs loudly and beats your incoming punch with her own. "it's the meta isn't it?"

"i mean, it'd make sense to pull for newer characters since you can't even clear endgame," she teases, taking a jab at your gaming skills every chance she gets like she usually does. her voice sounded light and casual but the twinge of dejection didn't escape your trained ears. you couldn't think of anything else to say since she saw right through your reasons.

"i won't say i don't understand. i'm a gamer too, y'know." silverwolf shrugs as she pops her bubblegum with a loud smack. she takes out her phone and gave it a few taps.

"but that doesn't mean i'm gonna accept your decision." and with that, your screen suddenly turns black. you try to restart your computer and reboot the game but the black screen keeps staring right back at you.

after a few weeks of multiple failed attempts, rendering you unable to pull for the character you wanted. hours right before the banner ends, your computer finally comes back to life. however, you log in to the game only to find out all your reserves of stellar jades and special passes were emptied.

you hear a bubblegum smack as you look at your screen in despair.

lingsha

"i wonder what made you go back on your promise," lingsha is as sweet as ever even as you break the news to her. she smiles at you over your screen albeit her eyes were dimmer and you see a raging vein popping in the side of her smooth forehead, a clear sign she's quite irritated.

"you were doing so good saving up for me, dear. you even told me you were going to get all of my eidolons," her smile twitches as the words leave her mouth and her hands that were petting tuskpir freeze for a moment before caressing again.

"did other women caught your eye, perhaps?" she asks with a raised eyebrow, staring right at you and boring a hole through your soul despite being in a completely dimension as you. "no, of course not," you deny as soon as her words materialized in the air.

"then, what prompted the change of plans?" she asks again, more firmly this time. tuskpir notices the change in her demeanor and quickly scurried off, leaving you alone to deal with a quietly seething cauldron master.

"have you lost interest in me then? maybe in starting to lose my touch." linsgha is confident she has you wrapped around her finger but she still couldn't help but question, it has more to do with her desire to see you squirm uncomfortably rather than being conscious of her charms.

"you know as well as i do that i haven't," your answer sounded more like a plea. it gave lingsha satisfaction but, unfortunately, her mind games are not over yet. at least not until she gets what she wants.

"so, what is the reason then, darling," the question leaves her mouth for the third time but her small smile never left her face once although it was slowly becoming smaller and smaller. you stay silent, racking your brain for reasons to ease her tranquil wrath. she takes your pause as cue to give you her final blow of the long interrogation.

"if you don't have one, then let's do as you promise. warp for me." there wasn't room for questions unlike her previous remarks. her hand outstretches to you as if inviting. you nod without a second thought.

the herta

"why?"

herta is confused. not pull for her? that is something even lifeforms with the lowest intelligence would not dare do. unfathomable. doing the unthinkable might have been what initially made herta take interest in you but now she thinks you're losing a few braincells.

"who could possibly be better than me?" it would take a whole lot to damage the herta's enormous and pristine ego but she thinks your decision poked it a little. "there's no correct answer by the way. no one is better than me," she answers her own question.

"perhaps you've grown complacent because you have my puppets with you." she comes closer to your screen. "but do you not want the real thing?" she asks as her voice tickles your ears trough the speakers. but before she can get anymore closer she stops halfway through, rekindling your desire to pull her closer.

"well, feel free to do as you like. i could care less about what you do anyways," she flips her silky hair and struts away from you.

well, that went easier than you thought. you were sure herta would give you hell for even thinking about not pulling for her. so you go on your merry way to go back to farming.

"not even one stellar jade?!?! after three hours of farming!"

you spent your remaining fuels and trailblazer power but it seems the system is bent on cursing you. the monsters were harder to beat and the rare instance that you do the drops were extremely scarce.

in the end, you weren't able to pull for the character you wanted due to insufficient resources.

kafka

"there's no need to choose, love." kafka says calmly as she looks down at you from her seat. the camera is always angled upwards every time she's on screen, effectively you making you crane your neck to glance at her like is the sky.

"name the price and you shall have it," she declares without any hesitation. her smooth cheek rests on her palm as if sponsoring your pulls are as trivial as the sky being blue.

"i-no, it's wrong. i don't want you to use your money on me," no matter how enticing the offer was, your morals held you back from accepting. you're not her sugar baby, you remind yourself.

"and i don't want you wanting anyone else other me," she replies without missing a beat and your heart thumps louder with how fast she responded without an ounce of doubt in her smooth voice.

"so don't be shy and take it. i want you to have me."

sparkle

"YES! FIRST TEN PULLS AND SHE FINALLY CAME HOME!"

you stand from your chair in shock as the character you've been warping for appear on screen. your fingers hurriedly go to the character menu to greet the new addition to your roster.

"hello~, little one," the character greets you. odd, you don't think the character would call you 'little one'. you only know one person that would call you such nickname. the feeling of familiarity creeps up from your spine and settles at the back of your tongue as you come up with a plausible deduction.

"sparkle," you sigh. you should've known sparkle wouldn't just sit around and watch you warp for somebody else.

"oh no! my cover's been blown," despite the words, the character giggles as she puts her hand in front of her lips. slowly the character's appearance morph into the mischievous girl you know.

"whats with the disappointed look? you're hurting my feelings, cutie," sparkle fakes a pout as her hand press against her chest before her signature smirk takes home in her lips again.

"you should've seen your face when you were celebrating!" she clasps her hands in front and her eyes cloud and get dreamy as she reminisces your reaction.

"you must be even happier since you got a better one, me" she blows a kiss to your camera.

[doremimosasol]

𝐓𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ☆

warnings: suggestive but nothing too much

word count: 1,5 k

summary: in the desperation of a better grade for potions you find the perfect solution: Theodore Nott

@thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge prompt 1

Potions class — you dreaded that class for the whole week just for it to be the last class on Friday. It's not that you just hated it, you absolutely despised it. Never passing any assignment, constant ridiculous remarks of Snape, the chills of the cold dungeon… You even began to wonder whether Professor Snape was the problem and not you. Everyone passed this class except for you, while you were the one who tried your utmost best.

You were beyond frustration, right now there was only despair left. As someone who scored top in almost every single class, a fail for potions was heavy on the heart. There was no denying it, you spent sleepless nights in hopes of improvement. Nothing, all hard work once again for nothing.

The Slytherins always scored top-class. Was it because they were good, or were they just favored? Snape couldn't possibly fail his precious Slytherins, of course not.

It was a rough week, the middle of winter, and now to top it off some more freezing in the cold dungeons for goddamn potions. How you wish you could just speed up time during these moments, to watch the minutes on the clock pass by faster.

You sat bored behind your desk, resting your head on your palm as you listened to the constant rattling of the teacher. Something about a new assignment. Why even try when you knew he'd fail you again like always? "... and it will be performed as pairs. Choose your partner wisely, no switching after today.”

Pairs? At the sound of that, you instantly lifted your head to find the familiar face of none other than Theodore Nott. It seemed as if his friends had already formed pairs and he was left standing, alone. He didn't look all too offended, just waiting for someone to approach him.

This was your chance. Finally, a chance to up your grades. Theodore Nott was the solution to your failing mark.

Without even thinking, you sprang up from your seat and approached him. You gave him a small poke in the side of his arm, his eyes looking up at you. You never noticed how mesmerizing his eyes were until right at this moment, it caught you off guard slightly. "Mind if we work together?"

He slightly frowned at your question, you two never spoke so this was honestly surprising to him. He looked around to see everyone partnered up already "Seems I'm left with no choice but to choose you." His brows were playfully arched as he looked back up at you.

Polyjuice potion. It wasn't an easy assignment, something that'd take weeks to brew. Which also meant weeks of working together. Snape explained that they didn't need to be strong, just for a minute; changing into the other.

"Make polyjuice potion." It was the only instruction that you got. Forced to find the recipe yourself, the ingredients, and a place to brew too. It was far from easy but at least you were smart enough to find a talented partner.

Theo had everything planned out; he made a schedule and found a place to brew. It was his own dorm but it was perfect, it was a large room and surprisingly cozy.

To your surprise, he used a lot of candles in his room. A lot of books lay scattered around too, from all different kinds. You often tried to read the titles, something Italian, while he made fun of your pronunciation. He corrected you, little did he know that was your goal: to hear him speak that lovely Italian language.

It was late at night when both of you decided to go look for some Lacewing flies in the woods. You didn't add enough in the beginning, which could mess up the ultimate potion.

"You know y/n, you aren't that bad after all. I can't deny I dreaded working with you, wondering why the hell you chose me as your partner. But you surprised me, in a good way." He looked down at you while you were next to him, looking around for some flies.

"Well, to be honest, I just wanted a good grade. That's why I chose you. You could say..." You thought for a moment before softly chuckling "…I used you to my advantage?" When you looked back up at him, he didn't seem all surprised.

"Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

Huh? What was he even saying? In love? With Theodore Nott? No way.

Looking back on the past few weeks, you looked back on the feeling you got around him. The feeling you're having right now.

Like you can't breathe but feel like you're breathing better than ever before.

Like there's a whole storm going on inside your stomach.

The soft touches he gave you these last few weeks; touching your wrist, the small of your back, patting your head when you were doing something right.

The way your heart made a little jump when he said your name or when he called you princess. The little praises he gave once in a while.

Reflecting on those weeks, your heart almost dropped. Could it be that you were in love? Was that love? Was he in love with you? Why did he even ask that? He must be in love with you, right? No...?

"Ah, I hit right bullseye. I knew it! You are in love with me, isn't that right?" It startled you when you suddenly hit his hard chest. He must've just spawned in front of you or something. It was when you looked up that you noticed the look in his eyes.

You saw something flicker in his eyes when you didn't respond to that question he asked. Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say something he already covered it with his. A kiss?

A kiss?!

No response from your side, just eyes wide open and stiff like a statue. He tried to get some sort of reaction out of you by cupping your face with both of his hands but nothing at all. No reaction, just a deer in headlights.

"Come on y/n, try that again. I like a bit of enthusiasm." He pouted in a joking manner.

He pulled your face closer, caressing your cheeks with both of his thumbs before moving lower until one of them reached your top lip. He caressed the cupid bow before moving to your lower lip, slowly dragging it downwards. "I want you to kiss me back with those precious lips, princess. Please?"

He moved his lips closer, his breath fanning yours like a soft breeze in summer. "For those good grades, I'll be giving you, mhmm?"

You pulled back and now it was your turn to mess with him. "Well I don't see those good grades yet, do I? Guess I'll have to wait for some proof to kiss you back." You noticed some Lacewing flies a few steps ahead and approached them. "Let's go catch those flies for those good grades, shall we?"

He was dumbfounded. How could you have been so flustered some seconds ago to turn into such a tease now? But he would get you good grades, just for that kiss...

...and for that smile that now covered your face when Professor Snape announced the top grades. "Theodore Nott and y/n y/l/n."

He bumped your shoulder slightly at the announcement and whispered in your ear. "Guess who's getting a kiss tonight? Can't wait to taste those sweet lips of yours, princess. Have been craving them all week.”

And man did you both kiss... Hands in your hair, pushed against the wall of his dorm while working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled away with a grin on his face. "A little eager now, are we?"

It took you by surprise when your feet left the ground and your back hit the mattress less than a second later. There was no time to respond before he had already crawled on top of you, his tongue devouring your mouth. You didn't even notice him pulling off your shirt and unclipping your bra until you felt his warm lips touching the middle of your chest.

His lips inched lower, leaving a wet trail in the middle of your chest. The warm touch sent shivers down your spine, this was new and you liked it. You liked him.

It felt like heaven. Being touched like this, being worshipped like this, you felt beautiful underneath the touch of his hands. This man knew what he was doing and there was no stopping him... It’s not like you wanted him to stop either, you wanted this to never end.

He looked up through his eyelashes with those piercing eyes, while sucking on your lower belly. "Do I have permission to show you heaven?"

And to heaven and back he brought you...

[fairy-writes]

I feel my Arcane obsession starting to come back and the prompt "Tell me, my Dear, can a heart still be broken even when it stopped beating?" screamed Viktor at me 🥰 can I request that? Thank you very much!!

TO DIE OF A BROKEN HEART

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?”

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends (2021)

Pairing(s): Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 0.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Angst, Post-Season 2, Established Relationships, Major Character Death

Notes: (I changed the quote a teensy tiny bit, but I like “love” more than “dear”)

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF THE SHOW

(something short because my brain is slowly rotting away)

__________________________________________________________________________

The cemetery was desolate. Your bouquet of flowers was just as sad as the solitary headstones, but you pressed on. Your shoes crunch the gravel underfoot as you make your way toward the back of the graveyard. 

Piltover hadn’t been as noisy as it used to be since the war. In fact, it was drowning in silence.

It shouldn’t have been like this. Viktor should’ve lived a long and prosperous life with you. That was why you agreed to help fund Hextech along with Mel Medarda. To help the people, but more importantly, to help your lover. 

So… Why? Why, why, why?! 

Why had Jinx blasted the Council to smithereens?! 

Why had Viktor been there?! 

Why hadn’t he been resting like you told him to?!

And that didn’t even include what happened to the Hexcore. While you were grateful Jayce had attempted to save Viktor’s life, that sense of gratefulness quickly diminished when Viktor changed.

You get to the gravesite, and the flowers in your hand crinkle in the wrapping around the stems as you stare down at the stones before you. 

Jayce Talis

“Our future is bright.”

Viktor—

A lump unexpectedly grows in your throat, and you barely stop yourself from dropping the bouquet of flowers. So, instead, you sink to your knees and place the blooms just before Viktor’s grave. Of course, there hadn’t been a body left to bury, so part of you had held out hope. But as time went on, your hopeful flame started to diminish to embers. Until those embers went out, and you finally accepted that Viktor might really, truly be gone.

Suddenly, you’re torn from your despair by a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning, you see Mel dressed in her pristine mage robes with a bouquet of camellias clutched tightly in her hands. She offers you a sad sort of smile, and you gesture for her to kneel beside you. 

“I hope it’s alright that Jayce was buried next to Viktor. I didn’t know where else to have him buried with both his parents still alive, and the Talis household doesn’t have a burial plot yet.” You mumbled, and Mel’s smile saddened even more. 

“I’m sure he would’ve appreciated being buried next to Viktor. Someone has to keep him in line in the afterlife.” She says, and you blurt out a watery laugh. 

“Right.” Is all you manage. 

Mel stays for a while, most likely keeping an eye on you. Because out of everyone, you had taken the presumed death of the Hextech founders the hardest. Jayce was something akin to a brother to you. Viktor was… So much more. 

You two had just begun to talk about marriage before all this happened. 

But, eventually, Mel is called back to her airship to head back to Noxus and leaves you alone. However, something in her eyes made you think she might just visit again soon. 

But then you are alone, flowers slowly wilting along with your heart. 

“Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?” You whisper to the silence, and a tear streaks your cheek when you don’t get an answer because, of course, you wouldn’t. 

So you closed your eyes…

And let darkness swallow you whole.

[dragonsfictavern]

Brighter Than The Sun

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.

summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.

word count: 1.7k

From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.

Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.

More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.

Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.

So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.

Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.

Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.

You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.

As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.

“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.

“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.

His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.

But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.

He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.

Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.

Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.

“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.

He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.

“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.

“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.

“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.

The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.

“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.

Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.

[winterhawkkisses]

A soft prompt 💜

19. 'It made me think of you'

It took Clint three tries to get his key in the door, splinted fingers not cooperating, let alone the tiredness that was conspiring with gravity, barely letting him lift his arm. Finally the door creaked open in front of him, and he let out a monotone cheer which turned into a despairing groan when he was prevented from collapsing inside by a wall of black leather. He slumped forward, flopping down far enough to rest his head on the cool smoothness of a shoulder, and resigned himself.

"Fuck it, fine," he said. "Take me, I'm ready."

"What."

The words were a new development, and intonation? Well, Clint was waiting with bated breath.

"Death threats come as standard, right? Well this is me resigning myself to my fate." Clint was honestly too exhausted to move but he spread his hands at least, welcomed the sweet release of oblivion with enthusiasm if not energy. "Have at it."

There was a moment of stillness, long enough that Clint could almost hear the calculations, and he'd love to say he cared about the outcome but it had been a long fucking week, long year, long life, and there were only so many fucks a guy could farm. We're sure not in Iowa any more, Toto.

Then there was a sigh, exasperated, one of those tiny signals that the killer robot wasn't so much of an automaton as he liked to pretend to be, and then the world was shifting all around him as the Soldier ducked and planted a shoulder squarely in Clint's belly, lifting Clint in a fireman's carry that was almost comical, what with the height difference and all.

"Holy shit, you're strong," Clint said, involuntarily.

"Keep that in mind," the Soldier said, monotone, and Clint imagined it was supposed to be a threat but that wasn't the way he was gonna take it.

Goddamn, he wished he could take it.

The stairs clanked loudly under heavy boots, which Clint decided was some form of protest; he had ample experience of the fact that the Soldier could move silently when he wanted to. And then there was one of the violent upheavals of motion which Clint's possible concussion didn't appreciate, and he was sprawled on his back in the middle of his bed, rumpled sheets and discarded underwear and all.

"Buy me dinner first," he said, reflexive, and that was another hint of the man behind the mask, that gentle flush that kissed his ears like Clint could only dream of doing.

He was distracted, though, by a movement among his mostly-white sheets, and he painfully turned his head to see a blue-eyed white kitten picking its way clumsily towards him. As soon as it noticed it had his attention it opened its tiny pink mouth and let out a demanding mew that was far louder than its tiny body should permit.

"What." His turn, this time, too tired and confused and discombobulated to manage to make it much of a question.

The Soldier shrugged, watching the kitten like he didn't want to meet Clint's eyes.

"It was pathetic and alone," he said after a second, running a metal finger, so carefully, along the length of its spine to its tail. "It made me think of you."

[pursuitseternal]

Reader x Raphael

“Mixing business with pleasure”

You willingly walk into his deal with a counteroffer: you will deliver him the Crown of Karsus and help him become the Archdevil Supreme, but only if he proves to you he’s a worthy lover.

“Mixing Business with Pleasure:”

Raphael x f!Reader | E | Smut Asks Prompts

CW: Cambion form smut, inappropriate use of tail, cunniligus

Hells…. That was more challenging than it should have been to sneak out of the Elfsong alone at night. One by one they had turned in for the night. At long last, even your Vampire Spawn companion nodded off in his trance.

A smile on your face, you crept out of the tavern and into the street, back to the South Span. Crowds push past you, drunk and horny. But you don’t care, cutting through them like a blade between your enemy’s ribs. The image makes you smile, your fingers itching for your daggers, for the power they give you.

Speaking of power, you can almost taste it on the air as you enter Sharess’ Caress. It’s not the scent of sex or sweat that makes your mouth water, it’s that tingle of hellfire and smell of brimstone that pulls you up the stairs.

The Devil’s Den, the Devil you know waiting inside.

You push the door open unannounced, the scent of cherries and rose water from his bath filling your nose. He doesn’t turn even after you shut the door, his tall frame standing near the shimmering pool, a towel wrapped around his still damp, dusky skin.

Nothing more than that.

“It’s late, little mouse,” he purrs from over his shoulder, the corner of his dark eye catching sight of you as you draw to a stop near him. “What sort of business could be so vastly urgent it draws you into my clutches at this ungodly hour?”

He snickers at his own wording. But he’s always been his own best audience, you smirk and roll your eyes. “My business is the sort that mixes business with pleasure…” you reply, your words entice even as your tone snips at your syllables all matter-of-factly.

Slowly, he rounds, one hand resting on the towel where he’s tucked it in beneath his navel. Fuck… you swallow, taking in the sight of him. Damp, dark skin shimmers in the candlelight, the shadows seem to melt into his brown hair as it clings to his head, drenched and dripping. But it’s nothing compared to the patches and swirls of dark curls that dart down his torso… that trail of hair that gathers just above where his towel covers the rest of him.

Raphael shifts as he follows your gaze, that small cock of his hips is enough to make you visibly shiver… almost. You catch yourself in time, for you can’t play all your cards right off the bat. Not when your opponent is as cunning as the Devil. His smirk widens as you force your eyes to meet his. “Well tell me then about this pleasurable deal you’re willing to offer. I’m beginning to think you long to give me more than your soul…”

He lets the daring judgment hang in the air. But you just give an unaffected sigh. “And I’m beginning to wonder just how badly you do want that Crown, Devil…”

A sly, knowing smile crawls over his sharp-angled face. “My, my,” he purrs, drawing so close to you that you can feel his scalding hot breath. “You left here so certain, your companions so vocal about how giving me the Crown would be… devastating.” That last word is crooned like a melody, a cadence all its own. “Is that why you burst boldly into my den so conveniently alone?”

You fold your arms and puff out your chest. “Maybe,” you smirk.

“Maybe?” Raphael chuckles, reaching to grab a single loose tendril of your hair from your shoulder so carefully, he doesn’t even touch your skin. “Such an innocuous word, so full of potential fulfillment, or else the promise of despair.”

Fingers reach for the back of your head, grabbing with just enough force to angle your face into his. “So which is it, little mouse? Fulfillment or despair?”

“That will depend on you,” you meet his gaze with all the confidence you can muster as you stare down the Devil. “Like I said, we will mix business with pleasure. I will bring you the Crown of Karsus if you meet my terms.”

A rolling, bassy chuckle overwhelms you. “Are you the one drafting a contract for me?” his deep voice boils with amusement. “That is something extraordinary. I haven’t endured this for some time.” His hand releases your head only to claw its searing touch around your chin. His fingertips buckle your skin. “Tell me, foolish mouse, what do you think are amenable terms for your deal?”

You shift on your toes as he draws your weight higher. “I will give you what you seek, the Crown to make you Archdevil Supreme if…” you swallow as his fingers close around your windpipe more, “if you can prove yourself a worthy lover.”

Those deep set eyes blaze at your offer, flickers of hellfire in their warm brown depths. “You’re either ambitious or very stupid, girl.” His voice is pressed, constrained inside that surly chest.

You shrug as his fingers release your flesh, slowly stroking your neck instead. “I like powerful men,” you give a flippant reply.

Raphael raises a thick brow. “The bear of an Archdruid not enough? Nor the former lover of Mystra, nor the vampire poised to be the most powerful of his kind should he defeat his master?”

You shake your head. “Compare that to the almighty ruler of all the hells? It pales in comparison, and I know where I wish for my allegiances to… lie.” Gaze darting to the bed in the next room behind him, your innuendo and meaning is not lost on the clever Devil.

“You’re cheeky and presumptive, little mouse,” his hand presses at the smaller of your back, pulling your body against him. Drops of near-steaming water dampen your skin through your chemise. “I like that,” he croons into your ear, the pads of his lips loudly suckling that outer shell a little before he pulls away. “If you like powerful men, perhaps you would prefer a different form for me to take?”

“Give me your most powerful, your best,” you rasp trying to catch a kiss on those smirking lips. But he dodges out of your reach, one warm finger pressing against your daring lips to silence you.

“Whether you could handle my most fiendish form remains to be seen, but perhaps we could start with a body that offers more of a bite.” His chuckle resounds eerily before you, smoke and ash and sulfur filling every sense as his body is cloaked in darkness.

Warm supple skin bubbles, cherry red scaly flesh scalds you as you insist on caressing the lines of his chest. The mighty Cambion swaggers in place, great wings beating the cool air of the room as he looms above you. “On to the bed,” he growls in sonorous tones, “and off with your clothes.”

A shiver of delight runs down your spine to pool as wanton need in your belly. You pull your tunic off over your head, sliding your leathers down and stepping out of them unceremoniously. You don’t even glance behind you as you crawl on the lavishly soft bedding, its color somehow less vibrant than the being that gazes at you from the bedside, black and yellow eyes roaming over every detail on your body. You catch sight of his vermillion forked tongue as he licks his lips. “Relax, my dear,” he purrs, his voice low and scintillating as he stalks closers. “I shall give you a taste of what I have to offer. It would be foolish to demonstrate all my finest abilities as the curtain opens. That leaves nothing in suspense,” he grins to reveal all his jagged teeth, “and I do so long to see you hanging in suspense for me.”

He gestures for you to recline with a long sweep of his arm, a matching arc made with his wing. The bed seems to suck you in. Your body grows ungodly hot, your skin burning so furiously that his Cambion fingers feel cool to the touch as they rake nails down your sides. “Shall we inspect the collateral you have to offer on your end of the bargain? A body like yours is meant for scrutiny, for delight and examination down to the most minute detail…”

He’s crawled over you, his wings spread wide, darkening your world to shades of dusky red and burgundy. Those unearthly eyes stare into yours, lips pressing softly once, giving you that taste of cherries and smoke. The forked tips of his tongue press against your mouth, a silent request. But it’s the only act of gentleness he gives you, the only entreating movement for more.

For once you give, once you part your lips for the sizzling heat of his tongue, he plunders you. That impossibly long tongue darts and devours, his pointed teeth nipping and breaking the skin of your lips as he works his mouth. Your head grows light as his lungs suck the very air you need to live from yours. Panting, you fight for control. Not to mention you’re fighting for air. His hands grip their pointed claws into your shoulders, pressing you down as he breaks your kiss.

The warmth of his mouth envelopes one breast as he caresses his way down your burning skin. Back arching, your hands reach for the first part of him you can grab, locking around those rough curves of his horns. His deep laugh tickles the sensitive skin of your chest, his tongue laving hot spit up and down the center of your body in long, sensual swipes. One of his hands claws around your breast, kneading it and teasing your nipple to a hard, aching peak. The other hand grants your aching mound its touch, fingers parting your folds, revealing your drenched and swollen cunt for him. His wings flap, air rushing as he sinks his head between your thighs. “Hold my horns if you like, little mouse, for next time I eat you up, you might just be holding the prongs of my crown.”

You gasp as his tongue dives right for your clit, circling it with expert, ancient precision. Hips rolling, you match the mesmerizing workings of his mouth, that deep sonorous voice growling as he feasts, consuming every drop of arousal that seeps from inside you. But still your walls ache for more, you crave something to fill you up. And just as the thought passes your mind, you feel it.

Long and bluntish and sinuous, something pushes into your cunt. Curling up, you dare yourself to look, for it can’t be his cock….

His tail wriggles alongside his mouth, the tip of it sliding into your welcoming heat with ease. The mere sight of it makes you nearly burst, but it’s when those dark and golden eyes flash up to meet you with his potent gaze that you crumble. Your head slams back against the bed, your back arching as he fills your entire cunt with his wicked tail.

It starts behind your navel, where his hand slinks from your breast to push on that expanse, making you feel each ram of his tail against your cervix. Your breathing grows ragged and dry, and all you hear is the wet squelch of him thrusting in your liquid heat and the growls of his pleasure as he sucks and swirls his molten tongue over every inch between your thighs.

One more press of his hand on your belly, and you erupt. Every muscle floods with heat and contorts as your orgasm is rend from your body. He rips your pleasure from your frame, sucking on your clit to draw out your climax. He feasts on your bliss, devouring your ecstasy until you can’t move a muscle.

It’s all you can do to lie limp in his bed as he withdraws every appendage from your body. You groan, missing the heat of his body and the wet of his tongue as he slinks from the bed again. You close your eyes, reopening them to see that bright red form towering beside you. He runs a nail down your middle, the line of his spit still pooled on your skin. “Oh little mouse, so deliciously spent,” his laughter is low and husky, that little edge of threat at its core. “Bring me the Crown, and next time, I’ll let you have my cock too.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you sigh. That Crown will be his, just as much as you are.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi i think i might be a little early for Wednesday prompts sorry ( not sure what time zone you are ) but if it sparks interest a continuation of the one shot that has manipulative magnus conspireing with cat and ragnor how to get alec to properly relax

hope you and everyone else are doing well and the moving house goes as smoothly as it can and hope you all have a nice day and that nightshade is better from battleing the bee and abyss is happier thanx for shareing your writing with us its brilliant

it has taken me a bit but I'm back and i'm answering new prompts and also making sure to not neglect and finish filling older prompts! so here we are and I hope you will still enjoy it and are doing well!

also things have been a bit off the last week but the house we moved to has been a blessing. the insulation mostly works here (which is amazing considering how hot it can get) rather than no insulation and melting shades and sparking outlets at the last place.

Nightshade has avoided bees since this incident and will sometimes bark for help and when I go to see what it is, it ends up that he's letting me know a bee got too close him and he needs comfort...

yes he is ridiculous but I love him. the Abyss is about to go be cuddled because her main person is out for a few nights and she demands pawtention! and I promised i'd annoy her with love.

<3 lumine

manipulation is rehab

Alec has figured Magnus out.

“You’re tenderizing me for the future.” He mutters into the sheets, “fattening me up and then getting my muscles nice and soft.”

“Yes darling, I’m going through all this effort so I can make a nephilim roast. Angelic meat definitely is enhanced by lavender and wintermint.”

Magnus’ rather droll tone is as soothing as his hands and Alec nods in agreement despite knowing how ridiculous he’s being.

“I’m okay with this.”

“Wonderful, you’re fine with me taking care of you as a means to devour you. Yet you shy away every time I try to ease your burden.  A true wonder you are, sweetheart.”

That sounds a little rude even if it’s not actually insulting and Alec means to complain but then Magnus’ fingers press down on a particularly stubborn knot that even an iratze can’t unravel and Alec goes even more limp.

Magnus’ fingers are as magical as his magic, which makes sense because Magnus is magical.

“Alexander, can you still breathe?”

It’s an unfair and unnecessary question, especially because Magnus’ fingers have paused and Alec whines in despair. He can hold his breath for more than long enough but apparently Magnus doesn’t agree and Magnus is the one with the power of magic and talented fingers.

With a sigh Alec turns his head away from the smothering embrace of Magnus’ many pillows.

Pillows that smell like Magnus shampoo and would have been a delightful way to go.

“Yes, Magnus. I can still breathe.”

He wiggles, trying to shimmy his back and flex the muscles there to make sure Magnus knows he can get back to what he was doing. There’s a deep, delighted chuckle above him before finally Alec has Magnus’ fingers back where they belong.

On Alec, clearly.

Which is something Alec didn’t realize for far too long and he’s going to spend the rest of his life making up for all the time he’s missed since meeting Magnus.

—-

Alexander is surprisingly docile once Magnus actually gets to work. The difficult process was getting him to settle down enough to accept comfort and help.  Now that Magnus has passed that hurdle, Alexander’s is soft clay, moldable and pliant beneath Magnus’ palms.

There’s a connection that forms between the touch of Magnus’ skin to Alexander’s that both electrifies and soothes and Magnus drinks in the soft noises of pain and pleasure that his shadowhunter makes. 

Alexander is sweetly intoxicated by magic and potions and the candles that ease him to a gentler state of relaxation. Beneath Magnus’ palms the weight of the world is shaved away and Alexander breathes deep and even and calmly.

And for once, Magnus doesn’t have to chase his shadowhunter down to keep him in one place, not when he’s eager and quiet beneath Magnus’ touch.

-

AN:

alec hasn't quite realized that Magnus just wants to take care of him. he's trying to rationalize it and he's not actually being very rational and Magnus is just tiredly amused by the whole thing and really just happy to finally get his Alexander in one place long enough to see him relax.

magnus probably could have just laid next to Alec and started napping like an hour into it, but he's so pleased by finally getting free access to Alec without interruptions or 'i have responsibilities' or 'i don't want you to trouble yourself'. Alec can't make any complaints when he's too incoherent to make sense.

Magnus is going to bite him if he keeps up the talk about Magnus just wanting to eat him though. just because Magnus only has so much willpower. which I think is fair.

alec is just really enjoying the fact that his muscles are no longer solid. he is puddle.

[mrchiipchrome]

New Girlfriend

W.C. - 1.8 k

prompt 18. -Only I belong with you and only you babe.

prompt 20. -I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.

a/n: 1. I only know how to intrduce myself in Spanish, so excuse if it's wrong, 2. there's a list of prompts linked in my masterlist if you want to request:)

----------------

3 years. You had just spent three damn years loving someone who was willing to chuck all that away in a second. Three wonderful years tarnished in the span of a minute, just because she decided that you weren’t enough for her.

Just because Alexia decided she was bored, of you and of your relationship.

When she just a week ago told you that you were done, over text nonetheless, you simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Everything was going so well, she hadn’t given you any indication of being unhappy whatsoever.

When the shock passed, the despair set in. What could you possibly have done to warrant being broken up with that way? Had you really been that bad of a girlfriend?

The thundering crack of your phone screen hitting the floor marks your breaking point, curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing until nothing more comes out. 

You’re not even surprised that she doesn’t return back to the shared apartment you once saw as your home, now everything was just a reminder of her and how she’d been yours only seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks before.

And no matter how much you cry, how much secretly wearing her hoodies tears a hole in your heart all over again, you know that she’s not yours anymore. You’ll never feel her feather light touch late at night again, never feel her lips pressing against yours again, never feel her nails scratching at your back.

Her new girlfriend was so much prettier than you, kinder eyes, glossier hair, better lashes, bigger tits, rounder ass. How could you ever compare to that?

Seeing her face everyday at training had you close to breaking down in tears, every look into your favorite pair of eyes bringing you that much closer to the edge.

The only way for you to not fold in two every single second you spend in her presence, is to outright ignore her. 

Something she doesn’t take too kindly to.

Dragging your feet against the floor, you’re instantly reminded of how Alexia used to chastise you for doing that exact thing.

All of a sudden, you can feel your shoulder being pulled on harshly. Stumbling back into the body of the mystery person, you can feel the familiar curves under your fingertips, her fingers clutching painfully at your shoulder. 

“Can we talk?” She rasps out, staring into your eyes with an indescribable amount of venom. The way she was looking at you, you’d think you were the one who broke up with her over text.

“No” Pulling your shoulder away from her iron vise grip, she doesn’t even get a glance in her direction.

“No te alejes de mi Y/n, you do not walk away from me.” Her thick spanish accent covers the english words, the once charming zing of her accent now only making you want to throw up.

“There’s nothing to talk about Alexia. You broke up with me over text, you didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes as you threw away 3 years.” Now it was her turn to not look you in the eyes, turning her eyes down to the sidewalk. 

“Say something then Alexia, that’s what you wanted to do right, talk.” You see how her lips move but no words come out, almost like she was expecting you to just lay down and admit defeat. Foolish of her.

“Good talk Alexia, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, don’t forget to pick your things up from the apartment.” Turning on your heel, you feel her stare into the back of your head.

“Will you stop being so sour? I broke up with you a month ago, get over it!” She screams after you.

“Are you that far removed from reality Alexia? You think a MONTH heals your heart from being crushed?” You shoot back, in disbelief at her lack of knowledge of feelings.

“Dios mío Y/n, I hope you find peace for yourself” She tells you calmly, feelings spilling into her voice despite her attempt at composure.

“You do know that a new girlfriend ain’t going to fill the void right? She’s not going to love you like I do, like I did, she’s not going to be there for you like I was. When you realize that, you will come crawling back to me.” You spit back at her, equal amount of emotion in your voice as in hers.

When you turn away from her this time, you actually walk away from her and to your car, driving away from her and the argument. 

That evening is spent drowning your sorrows in ice cream and Alexia’s old very expensive wine. She wouldn’t miss it, she’s got 1000 other things to worry about.

Foolishly, in your drunken stupor you decided that it was a brilliant idea to agree to a night out with the team…including Alexia.

The anticipation of that Sunday night created a lump of anxiety that sat uncomfortably in your stomach, growing like a balloon being blown up until it fully consumed you. 

Foot tapping against the floor, you check your watch for the umpteenth time, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. You were sure that the loose button would manage to come off before Pina and Patri would pull up, the two planning on getting drunk beyond recognition.

Sucking your teeth, you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you hear the loud noise of the car’s horn.

“HOLA Y/N” Patri shouts in your face directly after you’ve sat down in the backseat, the young girl reeking of alcohol.

“Someone’s already started the party, ey?” You get out through a hesitant chuckle, Pina meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror. 

Without much fuss, you all get to the venue, though the ball of pure anxiety was settling in your throat uncomfortably. The confidence you had only days ago was long gone, nervous picking at your fingers showcasing that.

When you stepped foot in that bar, the smell of alcohol and far too strong perfume hit your nose, overwhelming all your senses.

Yet everything seems to calm as soon as you catch sight of your ex, simply put she looked out of this world. 

No, you tell yourself, I can’t think of her like that anymore.

“Y/n/n let’s go to the bar, I need something to drink!” Pina close to shouts directly into your ear, the young girl clutching onto your right arm like her life depended on it.

You let yourself be pulled along by the two younger girls, setting your body down in one of the barstools, Pina and Patri each hanging off your shoulders. They each order their drinks, waiting for you to do the same.

“Just a coke please” The bartender sent you a quick wink before moving away, Thing 1 and Thing 2 ohhhh-ing loudly. 

“Your drinks ladies!” The pretty bartender hands you the glasses, your coke still in its glass container. Before you leave to join your friends, the woman slides you a piece of paper, her number written on it.

The blush stays on your face all the way until you reach the large table, ready to put your bottle down on the table. It seems like a certain someone was waiting for you to rid yourself off it before pulling you away from the rest.

“Hey, leave me alone!” You shout, not having seen the face of your perpetrator, but the nails digging into your arm gave you a slight indication as to who it was.

Next thing you know, you’re being pushed up against a wall, familiar lips locking with your own. Alexia presses her body up against yours tightly, leaving as small of a space between your bodies as she could.

Pulling your lips away from hers, you quickly wipe your sticky lips.

“Alexia, what are you doing?” The absolute disbelief in your voice makes her look at you like you were stupid.

“I saw how that fucking bartender was hitting on you, I had to send her a message. Only I belong with you and only you amor” She’s got a smug smirk on her face, looking back at the stunned bartender.

“No, Alexia, you broke up with me. You don’t get to do that because we’re not together anymore, I am not yours Alexia. I can date and fuck whoever I want, and you can’t do anything about that and it’s your fault.”

Walking away from her, like you’d done only days before, she once again calls out for you.

“You were right, she wasn’t like you. I have no explanation for why I did what I did, but I just want to apologise, it wasn’t…fair of me.” Her pauses between some of the words show how she’s truly trying her best to apologise.

“I want you back Y/n” You couldn’t even lie to her, say that you didn’t want to get back together, because it was the only thing you’d been thinking about these last few weeks.

Sighing, you look at your watch, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the doors. The cold evening air nips at your skin as you start to talk.

“You broke me Ale, and it’s going to take awhile to make up for that. If we’re getting back together then it’s on my terms, okay?” Alexia nods vigorously, she’d clearly do anything to get you back.

“Can I kiss you?” The timidness in her voice has you close to awwww-ing, leaning back against the brickwall while Alexia leans against the railing parallel to you.

Her intense gaze stays on you as you rest your head back against the cold hardened clay, exhaling through slightly chapped lips. The cloud that forms in the air presents the contrast between the warmth of your body and the cold of the night.

“That’s all I want” This time your lips lock in a calm dance, all the feelings of sorrow and longing being expressed in a single kiss.

"How about we get out of here?” Her hands lay flat against your chest, fiddling slightly with the material of your shirt. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Alexia look up at you through her eyelashes.

“Oh, amor I’m driving Thing 1 and Thing 2 home. I promised them I’d stay over at their place and take care of them after.” You kiss her hairline as she herself chuckles.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, she places her head on your chest, the vibrations of the tune you were humming sending her heart into overdrive.

“But we could stay out here for a while instead, I like having you back in my arms.” The only response you get is a kiss pressed to the column of your neck.

It would take a while for Alexia to get you back, it didn’t matter if it took 10 days or 10 years, as long as she got you back. 

[graceisinthelibrary]

It’s my first time ever asking but since I love your writing so much I’m giving it a go! I’d like 15, 26 and 27 please!!😘

Here's the last one. Thanks for the amazing choice of prompts! The prompt was "There's a letter on the table waiting for you".

Siegfried operated on the apple with meticulous precision. He peeled, sliced, and dissected. He was a surgeon after all. He cut things for a living. 

The truth was, he concentrated on the apple at hand, because he couldn’t rip open the letter on the kitchen table. Lately the Royal Mail had become his nemesis. The telegram from Tristan and its vague announcement that had left him in a dark limbo between hope and despair for over twelve horrible hours. Edward’s Christmas Card, well intended, but a cruel tease that had caused more agony for days for Mrs Hall and everyone else who loved her. 

And now this. Again the letter was addressed to her and the sender happened to be an old friend. This case case “friend” was an euphemism for “Gerald”. As far as he was aware the chap hadn’t written to her in ages. Why now? 

By now the apple was cut in enough pieces to be used to cook apples sauce. With the harvest being good this year, his housekeeper had cooked a lot of it, because she didn’t want it to waste. She was ever so resourceful in everything she did. 

The backdoor opened and she came in, a basket over her arm and Dash at his leash. 

“Afternoon,” she greeted him, visibly pleased to see him. “You’re back early!” 

“Oh well…” He shrugged. “How was it in the shops? Anything left for us?” He asked, pointing at her basket. It was fuller than usual, which was a good sign. 

“For once I got everything I need,” she said, beaming with accomplished pride. “But it’s grim for some people out there.” 

“I know.” Only too aware how much the rationing and the ongoing fear for the life of the many soldiers were nagging at people, he hesitated to feed Dash with a piece of the apple, but eventually he did. The little beggar was just as lovely as his mistress, who was now taking off her jacket, revealing her grey short sleeved sweater. 

“There’s a letter on the table waiting for you.” 

He gave Dash another piece of the apple and the spaniel leaned against his leg, grateful and keen for more. He patted his side, marvelling how soft his fur was. 

“Oh…” She leaned over and took a look at it. “Oh,” she repeated when she noticed who had written it. There was no nervous flush, no sign of unease or joy. Just surprise mixed with a mild curiosity. He relaxed a bit. So she hadn’t been anticipating a message from him. Good. 

He watched her as she stored away the groceries and ate his apple, sharing every second bit with Dash. Then she put the kettle on and sat down. To his surprise she opened the letter in front of him and began to read. Another good sign. Whatever the homewrecker - that’s what he silently called him - wrote wasn’t a secret, at least not to her. 

As the next “Oh” reached his ear, he furrowed his brows. 

“Any news?” He asked as casually as possible, pretending not to know who the letter was from. 

“Kind of. He got married…” 

“Oh… Who?” 

Her eyes shot up, aiming at him. Her amusement was obvious and he blushed, caught red-handed. Why could he never lie to her? 

“Gerald,” she explained and made sure he knew that she knew. She just made her point silently and stabbed him with it. He should know by now that nothing escaped her notice. “He met an old flame of his. Ruth.” 

“Good for him.” Siegfried cleared his throat. 

“That’s what I think. Though…” She shrugged and he didn’t dare to ask why she had wrinkled her flawless forehead. 

“Don’t you think this sounds a bit petty?...” She leaned in a little and began to read, “I won’t say it was love at the first sight, but we know and understand each other. She’s a marvel and she likes Lilian a lot. It’s nice to come home to someone in the evening without wondering whether they will be waiting or not. I hope you will find whatever you’re looking for. Someone’s told me you’re a warden now and I wonder how little time you have left to put up your feet. Life here at the Lakes is a bit slower…” She broke off and Siegfried figured it took her a lot of willpower not to roll her eyes. She had always been very much in control when it came to the homewr… banker. As if she had never dared to be her true self in his presence. Maybe that was what he had hated mostly about the bloke. 

“I have everything I need!” 

“He sounds… wounded,” Siegfried said, trying to sound neutral. 

“Petty,” she repeated. The kettle whistled and Siegfried noticed that she spooned more leaves into the pot than the rationing allowed. 

“I think we deserve a little treat.” Feeding Dash the last piece of the apple, he rose and returned with a bottle of sherry. Dash, sensing, there were no more treats left, climbed into his basket and curled up for a well-deserved afternoon nap. 

“Let’s put up our feet,” Siegfried suggested upon his return. He poured them two glasses and placed them neatly next to their saucers. She chuckled. “Not exactly an ottoman, but thank you.” 

He settled down and looked at her, his eyes steady and beaming. “You’re a marvel. You keep us fed, you hold the fort, and you make us safe at night. Don’t let anyone tell you, that’s not enough or unheard of.”

Audrey, never able to accept a compliment, lowered her eyelashes. Now a tender flush built up in her cheeks. The silence became a bit embarrassing and she sipped her tea, and then from her sherry. 

“I love me life and me home,” she said, her voice steady. “I see no reason to change anything about it. And I’m not looking for anything…” 

“Brava.” He smiled, but felt a little sting in a corner of his heart. There was something he wanted to change about her life, about them. He ached to tell her that he loved her, more than the banker ever had. That he would never belittle her for caring for others or wanting to make a difference to their community. That his home was her home and that she had built it for them. There were so many things he wanted to admit but felt he wasn’t allowed to. 

“You’re making a difference every day,” he finally said. “Especially to me.” Three little words. He knew his voice had sounded shaky, even squeaky. 

Her eyes, right over the rim of her sherry glass, widened and then she smiled. Almost coy, she put down the glass and reached out. He took her hand without hesitation. Her fingers, so warm, a bit rough from the hard work, yet so well cared for, interlaced with his. “It means a lot to me to hear that.” 

In a moment of boldness he later described to himself as madness, he led her hands towards his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. 

From the way she stared at him, he thought for a moment she would faint. He didn’t know how many men had kissed her hand before, but he had the feeling the banker had never done it. So he did it again. 

“You’re daft,” she breathed, her eyes fixed on the place where his mouth had touched her skin. 

“No, my dearest. I’m in love. Quite a difference.” 

[deeplyshalllow]

Do the gale force soldiers witness Fiyero’s transformation? Or do they leave him tied up and come back for Torture part 2: For Bad in the morning/after a coffee break then panic because

a. someone’s obviously used the clothes of their mostly dead ex-captain to make a creepy scarecrow decoy, suggesting the real Fiyero has miraculously escaped in his underwear,

b. they believe they’ve forgotten where they put him, because there are so many other scarecrows (a frankly ridiculous amount!) already in that cornfield, Fiyero’s body blends right in and it takes all day to check them all and come up unnervingly empty. (Oops! All scarecrows!) Prompting the soldiers to check them all again and again “How could you forget?” “Why did you have to tie a sack over his very recognisable face?” “You told me to?!” “Stop gaslighting me!” Etc

c. free space

d. they did see the transformation and it terrified them so much they scarpered to the nearest pub and drank to forget

a.a. they assume Elphaba has taken their dead guy, wholesale, “What do you even do with a dead prince?” “Bury him I guess,” “Use his bones for evil spells,” “I would put the dead prince in an ornately crafted glass coffin in the woods, so that the Winkies and woodland Animals can pay their respects and gaze upon his beautiful face.” … “Except we beat his face up.” “Yeah we beat his face up.”

I’m suffering the thought equivalent of zoomies I’m so so sorry

Loolll Firstly I got a good chuckle out of Torture part 2: For Bad, so thank you for that!

Honestly I've always thought option D - that they did see his transformation for several reasons:

They're supposed to torture Fiyero "until he tells us where the witch went" and (despite the fact that they do know where Elphaba is by March of the Witch Hunters - I think she's beyond being subtle at that point, and she does have good defences) I just can't believe Fiyero would ever tell them, he'd die first. So I do not think they are done with the torturing when he's transformed.

You have to remember that these are Fiyero's men. Guards who have worked under Fiyero, probably considered him a friend, and all along he has been betraying them and working for the Witch. They are probably not the most pleasant people in the first place and they are angry. I don't think any of them are giving up for a coffee break until he's done what they want and is dead

I actually think she casts the spell pretty fast? Like wishing for his flesh not to be torn and to not be feeling pain when he's beaten, is going to be pretty redundant more than 10 minutes after Fiyero has been captured (like it's obviously long enough for there to be some possibility for him to be "already dead or bleeding" but there's also a chance of his survival)? I imagine she got to the nearest safe place and cast. And Elphaba doesn't even cast the spell for that long before giving up and falling into despair so yeah, I imagine the men see it

They would want the body. There's a lot of power displaying tortured Fiyero to Oz whether it be "look what the Witch did to our beloved Prince" or "look what happens to traitors" it sends a message to the Ozians. I can't imagine them going without it if they can help it (and the fact they do come back empty handed and presumably lie about what happened to Morrible, can't have impressed her much)

Why doesn't the scarecrow get caught later then? I imagine the guards still don't necessarily know he's turned into a scarecrow - I imagine they ran away the moment the freaky magic started happening (and again, lied about the success of their murder when questioned by their superiors). There's also a non zero chance that, when they were taking a stiff drink after it all, Elphaba all "no good deed will i do again" returned to the field, found no Fiyero and the guards drinking (she presumes in celebration) and just burnt them all to death.

Thanks for the question! It was fun to specuate!

[asahicore]

our secret moments - lhs (m)

"our secret moments in a crowded room / they got no idea about me and you // all of this silence and patience / pining and anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you" - dress by taylor swift

series masterlist - part one - part two - part three

100 kisses masterlist - prompts 4 (breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours), 26 (“i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in”) & 19 (“if we’re caught kissing we’re most likely dead but let’s risk it”)

pairing. best friend’s brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. After avoiding Heeseung for a week, Chaeyeong makes you talk things out with him. In the weeks that follow, the two of you sneak around at night, sharing secret kisses in the backseat of his car and getting to know each other on a deeper level. If you make sure to be careful, there's no reason it should go wrong, right? genre. secret relationship au, fluff, smut (mdni!!), hint of angst at the end word count. 24.2k 😂 a/n. after a thousand years she's finally out!! i'm really sorry for making you guys wait but i was struggling with writing motivation and as you can see she's a bajillion words long so it took me forever to finish it. at least my amazing beta reader bestie in charge @zreamy edited it in like twelve seconds which was super awesome of her oh also shout out to the anon who recommended dress by tswift for this part ur very smart!! ok will stop talking now hope u guys like it and as always pls lmk what u think!!

Heeseung is confused.

He’s always proudly considered himself someone who easily understands other people, who isn’t rattled by sudden shifts in moods and who can adjust to different situations and attitudes. He’s observant and likes trying to figure out what the people around him are thinking or feeling, going over all the possibilities and finding the right way to fix a situation. In that aspect, he’scompletely unlike his sister Seeun, who, always straightforward, prefers asking directly. 

But Heeseung doesn’t see the fun in that.

His ability to understand others so well also allows the people around him to rely on him whenever they have concerns or troubles - they trust him to listen intently and provide solutions as best as he can. Even though he has few friends, he knows them inside out, and he’ll always choose that over having tons of friends he doesn’t really know.

This is where the confusing part starts for him. He likes to think of you as a friend - not a close friend like Sunghoon or Jay, but still a friend. You greet each other and even sometimes talk when you run into each other at school or at his place; you take the bus home together every once in a while; you remember each other’s birthdays; you even spent a few hours making a puzzle together once. Surely, that’s what friends do, Heeseung thinks. But to his great despair, understanding other people means he also understands himself well, and he can’t fool himself for that long.

He knows a friend wouldn’t make him feel the way you do. He can’t even blame it on your being a girl, because Chaeyoung, whom he basically sees just as often as you, or any of the girls in his classes that he sees on a daily basis, don’t make his palms sweat and his heart race like you do.

Admittedly, the truth would be closer to ‘my little sister’s best friend who I get even more nervous and awkward than usual around and gives me butterflies every time she so much as looks at me and is awfully pretty and smart and funny, which doesn’t help any of this.’ 

But ‘friend’ is easier. 

So he sticks to it and forces himself to look you in the eye when you talk and to start conversations with you, like he does with all his other friends, hoping that someday, he will finally feel normal around you. 

Sadly, that day doesn’t seem to come, and before he knows it, fall arrives and he’s whisked away to college. That’s where he meets Jake.

Jake was Heeseung’s roommate whom he had been terrified of as soon as he laid eyes on him, for Jake seemed to be the complete opposite of Heeseung and the exact type of guy he had hated in high school. The loud type, who sat at the back of the room and paid no attention to the teacher because he was too busy annoying girls or making fart noises with his armpit. The type who made fun of Heeseung’s glasses.

Heeseung was terrified of Jake for about five minutes (and with reason - the first thing Jake had said to him was “Cool glasses, bro”) until they started talking and he realized that he was doing the same major as him, shared a lot of his interests both academic and hobby-wise, and was basically just as much of a nerd as him; he simply hid it much better. Not that Heeseung wanted to hide it or even understood why he should.

One of Jake’s freshman-year goals was to get into a fraternity. But not just any - he had his eyes set on Sigma Sigma Pi because his brother was an alumnus and he had told Jake - in those exact words - that college life wasn’t worth living if you weren’t part of a fraternity. This meant that presence at the first party of the semester was mandatory. Heeseung had shivered at the word ‘party’, but Jake was so resolute that he decided to support his friend and come along, letting himself be convinced that even he might find some fun in it.

Three pints of cheap beer and five shots of tequila later, he concluded that maybe frat parties weren’t so bad after all. As soon as they’d seen him, a group of upperclassmen had taken his crooked glasses and lanky limbs as signs of social awkwardness and decided to help him loosen up by bringing him directly to the kitchen where all the good stuff was. Jake hadn’t expected that Heeseung would be the one to catch their eye, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting to party with the frat bros on his first night of college.

Heeseung, whose lips had never touched so much as a drop of alcohol, was wasted barely two hours into the party. Jake fared slightly better, but only because he knew better than to accept every drink that came his way. To this day, Heeseung finds himself unable to remember anything that happened after eleven p.m. that night, so imagine his surprise the next morning when he woke up half-naked in a stranger’s bed. 

Heeseung, who had practically never had a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. Heeseung, who had never even been close to getting his first kiss, and whose dick only knew his right hand. Heeseung, who had had a singular crush his whole life, and had never been able to do anything about it. So imagine his surprise when said stranger turned out to be a girl - and a pretty one, at that - who was smiling down at him as he blinked his eyes open and asking him if he slept well.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, close to Heeseung’s chest, which he rapidly covered with a blanket as soon as he realized it was bare. He was sleepy and confused, but more than that, he was hungover - his head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he might be sick any second. Obviously, Heeseung had never had a hangover before, nor had he ever woken up in a girl’s bed with no idea of how he got there, and the two new unexpected experiences made him unable to think or speak. He was just really confused. And really sleepy.

The girl slightly furrowed her eyebrows but laughed, seemingly amused by Heeseung’s behavior. “Are you okay?”

“I- um, yeah, I’m fine, but I, um…”

Heeseung winced at his own awkwardness, but he had no idea how to behave in such a situation. He also wasn’t sure how to tell this girl that he had no idea who she was or what he was doing with her.

She gave him a weird look but continued laughing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”

This only confused Heeseung further, because he always acted like this. He looked away from her questioning eyes and found an interesting spot on the blanket for his eyes to focus on. “What, um, what happened last night? I think I had too much to drink…” he said, voice getting quieter the more he spoke.

This girl was apparently having a lot of fun, because his words only made her laugh more. “You can say that again. You were out.” Heeseung’s head whipped at that and his expression was so alarmed that she instantly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything too embarrassing.” 

He still didn’t say anything and looked terrified out of his mind. “Do you not remember?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Anything?” He shook his head again.

She sighed. “Do you know my name?” 

Heeseung looked down again, and she could feel his guilt in the third head-shake.

“Guess you really did drink a lot. I’m Yunjin,” she said, extending a hand out for him to shake.

He cleared his throat and took the girl’s hand. “H-Heeseung.”

Yunjin tilted her head at Heeseung as if trying to figure him out. “You know, you were really different last night. A completely different person.”

No matter how mortifying the thought of behaving inappropriately was to Heeseung, he preferred knowing what he did to staying in the dark. “What was I like?” he asked, sounding almost scared.

Yunjin took a second to think. “You were just really… confident,” she said, and Heeseung looked at her in total disbelief. “You talked to everyone, danced like crazy, flirted with me…” She paused for a second, then looked at Heeseung with a teasing smile. “You’re a really good kisser, you know.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened so much they could’ve popped out of their sockets. “Me?!” he exclaimed as if he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. Yunjin just laughed and nodded.

“But right now, you’re like a beaten puppy or something. You act like I’m gonna punch you any second,” she joked, finally getting a chuckle out of Heeseung. 

They talked for some more, and he relaxed enough to ask more questions. But maybe he shouldn’t have had, because his embarrassment reached its peak when Yunjin told him that she had taken him upstairs the previous night, not realizing how drunk he was because of how drunk she was, but that they hadn’t done anything more than kissing. He asked whether he’d fallen asleep as soon as his body hit the bed, so Yunjin, reluctantly, had to inform him that he “couldn’t get it up” - her words. That was why he’d woken up in just his underwear. 

Luckily for him, their conversation was cut short when the rightful owner of the room kicked them out. He scrambled to put his clothes back on, and he and Yunjin ran into Jake in the hallway just as they exited the room.

“Heeseung! My man!” Jake exclaimed, circling his friend’s shoulders with his arm and ruffling his hair. The three of them decided to go get breakfast together in an attempt to fight off their hangovers, and a beautiful friendship ensued. Jake and Yunjin quickly figured out how fun it is to tease Heeseung for his awkwardness and nerd tendencies, but they were also really good friends. 

It didn’t take long for them to find out about his long-standing crush on his sister’s best friend, and they immediately made it their mission to help Heeseung channel his alter ego so that he could finally make his move on you. He was reluctant at first, but after some time, he found that it was fun to party on the weekends, flirt shamelessly with strangers (and yes, sometimes make out with them) and hit the gym with Jake rather than stay holed up in his room and just study or game. They convinced him to get a haircut and some nicer clothes, and they even went to get their ears pierced together on a night when the alcohol made them feel like it was the greatest idea ever.

Of course, Jake and Heeseung were accepted in Sigma Sigma Pi, and Yunjin in the twin sorority. Heeseung developed this sort of odd reputation of being a player and a huge flirt but never actually taking a girl back to his room. Not to say no one tried - many girls heard about him and thought they would be the one to bag this boy that only seemed to get more handsome at every party, but no matter what they did or said, they were no match for you. 

Even though he hadn’t seen you in months, you were still on his mind all the time. To say he missed you would be an understatement, and it was a weird feeling, considering you were barely friends. But he missed taking the bus with you and hearing you laugh, even if it was at him, even when you were teasing him. He missed getting a glimpse of you in the hallways or seeing your shoes at the entrance of his house when he came home from school. He daydreamed about those hours you had spent together working on a puzzle together more often than he’d like to admit.

He didn’t like the idea that some girls might think he was leading them on, but once he knew his flirting actually worked on people, he couldn’t wait to see you again and try his new tricks on you. He tried not to self-doubt too much, but he was scared that you wouldn’t like it - he wanted to get a positive reaction out of you, not make you want to run the other way.

So when he finally came home for the summer and started working his charm on you, he was immensely relieved to see you get shy and flustered around him. He finally understood why you’d always teased him - there was nothing like knowing your heart had skipped a beat because of him, much like his had because of you thousands of times before.

It’s hard to always keep his cool around you, however, and he also finds himself getting nervous once in a while. But the hope that you might like him back keeps him going, so he takes every opportunity he can to talk to you and, while he’s at it, call you pretty or smile at you (a smile he’s practiced many times in the mirror for maximum effectiveness). To his immense joy, it works every time - so when the party rolls around, he knows he has to make an actual move. It also helps that he’s invited his number one wingman to stay with him for a couple weeks, so that his confidence never wavers.

He thinks he’s hit the jackpot when the bottle lands on you and on him right afterwards. He thinks he’s reached heaven when he finally feels your lips on his, when he finally gets to have you close and touch your hair and hold your waist and have your hands on him. The seven minutes pass by in a flash, and heaven is ripped away from him by his own best friend when the closet doors open - but the worst part happens during the days that follow. Those are hell.

You do the one thing that he had hoped you wouldn’t - you run away from him. In one week, you don’t even say ten words to him, just greet him quickly and proceed to escape as far as you can. He notices the change in your behavior right away - how could he not? And so a thousand possibilities run through his mind, ranging from “the kiss was awful, and she hates my guts, and she never wants to see my face ever again” to “she’s just scared about the repercussions this could have if Seeun finds out.” None of his friends can calm him down or get him to think straight.

This whole ordeal makes him panic so much that he has fully gone off flirty mode - how could he flirt with you if he couldn’t even get you to talk to him? He had been sure he’d read into your reactions right, that you had feelings for him, and that he was right to make a move, but not anymore. Now, he was just confused.

--

Since that fateful party, you’ve unconsciously started seeing your life as pre-Heeseung incident and post-Heeseung incident. 

Pre-Heeseung incident: it’s painful having such an intense one-sided crush, but at least you can keep it to yourself and not have to worry about Seeun’s reaction to you being in love with her brother. Sure, said brother’s constant flirting and general existence don’t make things easy for you, but it’s better to keep it a secret than to act on it.

Post-Heeseung incident: you have no idea what to do with yourself now that you know what it actually feels like to kiss and touch Heeseung, so you’ve resorted to avoiding him like the plague and pretending nothing has ever happened. It’s not fun either, and having to keep your inner turmoil to yourself is even harder than before, but you don’t want to risk your friendship with Heeseung over one kiss.

On the afternoon of day five, you’re going crazy reiterating the events of the party, so you decide to text the girls and ask them to come over. They both answer that they’ll be there in fifteen, but not even three minutes after you’ve sent the text, Chaeyeong appears at your bedroom door, face red and sweaty like she’s just run a marathon.

Since it’s Chaeyeong, you’re only mildly surprised to see her there, but you’re curious about her quick arrival nonetheless. “You’re already here?”

“Y/N, we need to talk,” she says with all the seriousness in the world. You’d be scared shitless if these words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, but knowing your best friend, she’s just exaggerating the gravity of whatever this is about.

Even though you try to match her earnestness, you can’t keep the amusement out of your voice when you answer, “Sure, go ahead.” 

She catches onto your lack of seriousness right away. “You think this is funny?” she says in an almost threatening way. “I came early so we could talk about your little Heeseung problem without Seeun.”

That’s enough to shut you up for a few seconds as you look at her mouth agape, heat rising to your face. She takes your silence as a victory and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for you to say something. “My little Heeseung problem?” you echo stupidly, and she nods. “I don’t have a little Heeseung problem.” You know that nothing about your tone or expression is convincing, but you still hope - in vain - that she’ll let you off the hook.

“No, you’re right, you have a big Heeseung problem. And it must be discussed.”

You roll your eyes as she takes a seat next to you on your bed. “You’re taking this way too seriously, you know.”

One thing about Chaeyeong is she’s never at a loss for words. It makes arguing with her exhausting because she’s always got something to bite back at you, no matter how much of a reach it is. So before the conversation even starts, you know she’s going to win it. You’re afraid of the truth she might shove into your face, but you figure it needs to be done at some point, so you let her.

“What’s serious is this crush you’ve been harboring on him all these years, and that now that something has finally happened and you might be going somewhere with him, you’re running the other way.”

You only hear the beginning of her sentence, too focused on the bomb she’s just dropped on you. “You-you knew?”

It’s her turn to eye-roll. “Only an idiot wouldn’t notice how much you like that boy, Y/N. Which means that Seeun is an idiot, by the way.”

The mention of your other best friend makes you wince slightly. It feels wrong to be going behind her back to talk about your crush on her big brother like this. “Yeah, I know,” Chaeyeong says as if reading your mind. “I’ve thought about it, and I honestly have no idea how she’ll react.”

You both look at your feet for a while, mulling over the different ways this could go down with Seeun. “It definitely doesn’t look good,” you say defeatedly. “I mean, if her reaction at the party is anything to go by. When we were playing the game, you know. When the bottle landed on me and Heeseung, she looked completely disgusted, but when we came out she didn’t even question whether something might have happened, as if that was just impossible for her.”

Chaeyeong sighs. “Well, if you tell her, she’ll definitely be surprised. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it… right?”

Your friend’s doubt only makes you feel even worse, and you drop your head into your palms with a groan. “I hate everything about this.”

Chaeyeong nudges your shoulder with her own, making you turn your head to look at her. “I’m sure you didn’t hate that whole part when you were in the closet with-”

“Chaeyeong!” you scream before she can finish her godforsaken sentence, but it only makes her break into a fit of giggles. You try to pretend to be mad at her but a smile breaks through your pout at the sound of her laughter. 

“Well? You can’t deny it, can you?”

It takes another nudge of her shoulder with yours to make you reply. “Of course not, but-”

“So that’s it then! Let’s not think about any of the possible bad outcomes for now, and just focus on getting you and him together.” She doesn’t even give you time to answer - your wide eyes and panicked expression are enough for her to know what you would say. “Listen, I’ve had to sit here and watch you and Heeseung make heart eyes at each other without the other knowing, and that was already excruciating enough - I can’t stand to watch you make heart eyes at each other now that you know what the other feels.”

It takes you a second to process all of her words. “Y-you think Heeseung makes heart eyes at me?” you ask weakly. It’s like you have selective hearing today.

“Girl! He somehow manages to make it even more obvious than you. Also, Jake told me that Heeseung told him that he likes you. Can’t get much more reassurance than that.” Your dumbstruck expression makes her look at you in disbelief. “You seriously don’t see it?” she says in a fascinated voice, as if in wonder at your stupidity. You can only slightly shake your head no.

“I can’t believe this is what I have to deal with…” She sounds like an overworked office worker and mother of four rather than a high school senior on her summer break, and her attitude would make you laugh if you weren’t so rattled by the thought that Heeseung might have actually liked you all these years, you were just too caught up in your own feelings for him to notice it.

She takes your hand in hers and sighs. “I can promise you I wouldn’t be saying all this if I didn’t really believe it,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I remember the way he would get all shy and blushy whenever you were around, and that boy was already one hell of a nervous wreck on his own. And the blatant flirting since he’s come back makes me want to applaud him and vomit everywhere at the same time,” she says with a chuckle.

“Really?” you ask, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let yourself be convinced by your friend’s words.

“Really. And you, I’ve noticed how you pay more attention when his name is mentioned. And you were always a bit cheerier on the days you came back from school after riding the bus with him. Don’t even get me started on the way you’ve been this summer. You couldn’t get more obvious. It screams ‘I can’t handle being around this man for more than a minute so I’ll just run away,’ and I mean that in a good way.”

You look at Chaeyeong with a pout, and her smile grows bigger. You squint your eyes as you look away, trying to keep your grin down. “Guess I wasn’t as discrete as I thought I was.”

“You really weren’t,” she laughs. “Probably thought it was your own little secret, right?”

You’re slightly embarrassed that you’d been uncovered such a long time ago, but it’s also a relief, being able to share this with someone. 

“I did…” you admit, and it makes you both break into laughter. After you’ve calmed down, you ask Chaeyeong why she’d never said anything about it before. She thinks about it for a bit before answering.

“I’m not completely sure. Maybe because you and Heeseung were both such losers, I thought that even if I told you I knew, nothing would happen.” You scoff, slightly offended, but more because you know she’s right than anything. “And I don’t know, you two were just so cute with your crush on each other. I wanted to let you figure it out on your own, but now it’s taken so long and it’s right in your face but you’re still doing nothing about it, so I got fed up.”

You nod at her words, taking it all in. Was it really time to let Heeseung know about your feelings?

“I also feel bad for Heeseung, you know.” You look at her, waiting for her to continue. “Poor guy has been in agony these days. You need to stop ignoring him. I know it’s because you feel weird about him being Seeun’s brother, but I swear I think he might die if you don’t just at least talk to him. I’ve actually talked to Jake…” she reveals, and you wouldn’t have questioned her talking to Heeseung’s friend if it weren’t for the way she said it.

“You have?” you repeat with a suggestive tone.

“I have,” she says with a smile, “but that’s not the topic right now. Anyway, he said that Heeseung’s been losing his mind trying to figure out what to do. I think it’d make things a lot easier if you just went and talked to him, cleared things up, confessed your undying love for him, hm?”

“Who are we confessing to?” Seeun asks, suddenly appearing at the door and making you and Chaeyeong scream in genuine terror.

“Nice to see you guys, too,” she chuckles before flopping down on the bed.

Chaeyeong is only good with her words when it comes to arguing - she’s perhaps the most terrible liar you’ve encountered in your life. But at least she knows this, and is always deft at switching the topic rather than attempting to come up with an excuse. “Y/N and I were just talking about watching some movies with the boys tonight. Apparently, they’re having a movie night at your place since you’ve got the best TV, and Jake asked if we wanted to join.”

You know better than to look surprised by Chaeyeong’s words and make it clear that she’s lying, but you’re still caught off-guard by the sudden news. Movie night meant being in a darkened room in proximity to Heeseung, and we all know what happened the last night you were in a dark room with him. 

“Y/N and I thought it was a good idea, but we wanted to ask you first. Right, Y/N?” Chaeyeong suddenly prompts, momentarily tearing you away from your thoughts of Heeseung’s lips on yours. 

“Right,” you reply, somehow successfully pretending like you’re not on the verge of spontaneously combusting. You’re even more embarrassed now that you know that Chaeyeong and Jake know about your little crush, and you can’t even pretend it isn’t there like you usually do.

Seeun hums. “Alright, sounds fun.”

The three of you chat the rest of the afternoon away, and before you know it, you’re getting ready to go to Seeun’s house. As you rummage around your drawers for that one pair of soft sweatpants that manages to be the most comfortable article of clothing on Earth while also making your butt look amazing, your phone buzzes twice, and so do Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s. The first notification is of Heeseung having added you to a group chat simply named “movie night”, and the second is of a link being sent to said chat. When you click on it, it redirects you to a poll to rank ten movies in order of how much you want to watch them. Your favorite movie is on the list, and you can’t help but wonder whether it’s a coincidence or whether it’s something you’d talked about during high school and that he’d somehow remembered.

Once everyone has voted, you receive a second link, this one asking you to rank the three top movies in watch order. A smile breaks on your lips at this - it’s very Heeseung of Heeseung to do this and avoid later confrontation. As if to confirm this thought, your phone dings for a third time with a text from him that reads “this is so we don’t spend thirty minutes choosing a movie.” You’re not sure why everything he does is so endearing to you, all you know is that trying to avoid as much conflict as possible is a very Heeseung thing to do, and you’re grateful for it too.

When you get to Seeun’s house around seven-thirty p.m., the first movie is already up on the TV, waiting to be played. It’s horror, and you’re glad it wasn’t picked to be watched last, otherwise, you might’ve had trouble falling asleep. You quickly notice that Heeseung is the only one of the boys not currently sitting on the couch or in an armchair, and the question appearing in your head is answered almost right away when Seeun asks about her brother’s whereabouts. 

“He’s just in the kitchen getting the drinks ready,” Jay answers as he sprawls his body even more across the armchair he’s reserved for himself. 

“Why don’t you go help him out, Y/N?” Chaeyeong proposes with a deceptively innocent smirk, and if Seeun hadn’t been watching, you’d have given your hellspawn of a friend a serious death glare, but all you can do is mumble out “sure” and make your way to the dreaded kitchen. The butterflies you used to feel when thinking of Heeseung or being around him before have now turned into brutal rhinos trampling your insides, and it doesn’t feel so nice. 

“Hey, Heeseung,” you say quietly as you enter the kitchen, and your nerves make your own voice sound unfamiliar to your ears. He gasps at your sudden appearance, a blush immediately creeping on his cheeks, and you’re glad the lid on the bottle of Coke he’s holding is tightly screwed, otherwise, it might’ve spilt everywhere.

“O-oh, hey, Y/N,” he stammers in response. It’s awkward for three seconds as the two of you stare at each other until you remember why you’re here in the first place. 

“Um, I heard you might need some help?” you ask, and again, the sound of your own voice, so squeaky and unsure, makes you wince.

“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Here, you can fill this bowl with ice.”

You comply, and the refreshing feeling of the ice against your fingers somewhat helps to cool you down. It’s only quiet for a few moments, because although starting a conversation is terrifying, the tension in the silence and the thought of your feelings being left unsaid is far worse. So you take a deep breathe and open your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry-”

You and Heeseung exchange a bewildered look, the surprise of apologizing at the same time quickly fading out into a burst of shy giggles. “You go first,” he says, risking another glance your way as he busies himself again with the glasses and the drinks. 

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all week,” you start. “I wanted to talk to you, I was just… scared. And I didn’t know what to say.”

Explaining your behavior any further means confessing your feelings for him and articulating your fear of Seeun finding out, and even though it must be all clear as day by now, you’re still not quite ready to talk about it. Not now, when your friends are in the room right next to you. So you don’t add anything and hope that Heeseung has developed some sort of telepathy skills over the last few days. 

When he doesn’t press any further, instead saying it’s okay and smiling at you (properly, with eye contact), a weight seems to be lifted off your heart. “Your turn now,” you say, still smiling. You’ve emptied the ice cube tray into the bowl, so all you can do is look at Heeseung and wait for him to speak. If only you knew how much harder that made it for him. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you and then acting weird.” He can’t quite bring himself to look at you as he speaks, and even though he’s done getting the drinks ready, he keeps his eyes trained on the glasses as if they’ll tell him what to say next. “I’m not sorry for kissing you,” he adds quickly, “not at all.” Heat rises to your face and you have to tear your gaze away from him for a second. “I was confused ‘cause I never thought you might… want that too,” he says, voice quieter than before, like he’s scared that the others might hear him - like he’s scared that you might hear him. 

The words are right there at the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free - so for once, you comply. “I do.” Your voice is just as quiet as his, perhaps even more so, and if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s sharp intake of breath, you’d have thought he didn’t hear you. 

Your gazes lock, and the simultaneous relief and fear you feel are mirrored in his wide eyes. His face then breaks into a huge grin, and he is so dazzlingly handsome that you have to look away once more. You smile at the ground instead, grateful that breathing is something you do without having to think about it, otherwise, you’d have stopped doing it a long time ago. 

Neither of you says anything more, letting the silence do its job. You look back up at him as he sighs deeply, almost contentedly, it seems. He smiles at the glasses as if they told him the right thing to say. He looks at you, smiles wider, looks away, looks back, looks away again, scratches the back of his head. You watch the whole time, small giggles bubbling up your throat and out of your lips. 

He sighs once more and looks back at you, keeping his eyes on yours this time. “Okay, we should head back now. But talk more later?” he asks, and you nod immediately. Any other time, you’d have been embarrassed to show your interest so obviously, but you’d just told each other you both wanted to kiss the other, so agreeing to talk more later felt like nothing now. 

“Okay,” he repeats, grin still wide on his lips as he picks up the tray and heads back to the others, you following close behind.

“Took you long enough,” Seeun says, scrolling on her phone as you step into the living room, but you’re too focused on something else to quip back at her.

Jay is still reigning over his armchair while Sunghoon, Seeun, Chaeyeong and Jake, in this order, occupy the main couch that faces the TV. This means that the only spot left for you and Heeseung to sit in is the other armchair opposite Jay’s, obviously big enough for one person but slightly too small for two people to sit comfortably on, as in to sit without their bodies touching each other.

Heeseung had just admitted he wanted to kiss you. You had also just admitted to Heeseung you wanted to kiss him. Now, you were going to sit together in an armchair that forced two people into proximity, and you had to pretend like that was fine. 

When you manage to take your eyes away from the godforsaken armchair, your eyes meet Jake’s, then Chaeyeong’s, and that’s when you realize. They did it on purpose. The poorly-concealed smirks on their faces and giggles threatening to escape their lips as they take in your reaction make it all too clear. You could strangle your best friend right now. You know she’s doing you a favor, and deep down, you’re thankful for it, but you also know sitting through these movies is going to be the most arduous task of your life when Heeseung is right there. Close enough to touch, close enough to lace your fingers together or thread yours through his hair. You remembered very well from your game of seven minutes in heaven that it was just as soft as it looked. 

You send Chaeyeong yet another death glare, but it only makes her smile more. You set the bowl of ice on the table after Heeseung’s put the drinks tray down, and immediately make yourself a glass of Sprite to keep your hands occupied for at least a little bit. 

While you do that, Heeseung takes a seat on the armchair, and the sight you’re greeted with when you turn to sit next to him makes you almost drop your drink. After the little confession-like moment you shared in the kitchen, it seems like all his confidence from before the party has returned to him. He’s taken a comfortable seat indeed - he’s shamelessly manspreading, thighs almost taking up the whole space as if inviting you to find your own seat there. He lets himself be engulfed by the soft cushions as his head falls back against the headrest, exposing his neck and prominent Adam’s apple. 

You’d just gotten used to shy, flustered Heeseung again, only for him to return to his confident self in the blink of an eye. You try not to let it deter you, especially because you’re not the only two in this room, but his smirk as he looks up at you makes it hard not to. All you can do is redirect your death stare towards him, but sadly, much like with Chaeyeong, the only effect it has is to make him smile wider, as if torturing you was a fun pastime for them. 

You mumble at him to scooch then sit down next to him, knees bent close to your chest so your legs don’t touch his too much, but that plan is quickly thrown out of the window when you feel his hand sneaking behind your back until it reaches your waist, settling there. Even with a layer of fabric between his hand and your skin, the contact sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to keep yourself from audibly gasping. Conscious of the drink in your hand, Heeseung pulls you gently towards him, making your bent knees fall to the side and rest on his thigh. So much for keeping your distance.

Even your idea of occupying your hands with a drink turns out to be useless twenty minutes into the movie when the first jumpscare almost makes you spill your Sprite all over you and Heeseung. You take a big gulp before leaning forwards to set your glass on the table, and Heeseung’s hand stays put the whole time, even squeezing gently when you find your seat again. Without the drink, you know it’s a bit weird to stay sitting upright, but you can’t imagine leaning fully back against Heeseung or resting your head on his shoulder. This already feels like a lot - to be even closer to him would probably send you into cardiac arrest. Plus, even in the darkness of the room, the light coming from the TV screen would be enough for the others to see your and Heeseung’s position on the armchair, and you definitely don’t need Seeun to see you cuddling up to her brother.

You’re already tense from sitting right next to Heeseung, and the movie playing on the screen is not helping - creepy music that puts you on edge, camera angles that only let you see the character’s face and nothing else, weird silhouettes that flash for just a second - this is one of the rare times a horror movie actually does what it’s supposed to do, i.e. scare you. You almost managed to forget the boy’s presence next to you, but when a particularly suspenseful scene plays, you instinctively reach out to grab something, anything, and of course, that happens to be his wrist. You’re so immersed in the movie that it’s only when he wriggles out of your grasp and takes your hand in his instead that you realize what you’ve done. 

It’s like somebody pressed the pause button as you look down at your intertwined hands, the sound and light coming from the TV screen not registering in your mind anymore. When you dare to look at Heeseung’s face, he’s already shyly smiling down at you. He quickly turns away to watch the movie instead, but you’re still too focused on the warmth of his hand and the feeling of his fingers between yours to care whether the stupid white girl will make it out of the house safely or not.

This is something you’ve daydreamed about a thousand times before. Every time you’d ride the bus together or walk side by side, you wondered what would happen if you just reached out and grabbed his hand. It was always right there - but the line you’d be crossing seemed miles and miles away. Now that it’s finally happening, you realize it’s a lot better than you could ever have imagined. You feel like you should be freaking out, scared by what this simple touch means and by the fact that Seeun could turn her head at any moment and see you holding hands with her brother, but all you feel is contentment. Your feelings for Heeseung just needed to be reciprocated, and now that you know they might be - no, that they are - it’s like you can be at peace with them.

Feeling bolder, you squeeze Heeseung’s hand once then bring it to rest on your knee. You sense his gaze on your face once again, but you avoid it and keep your eyes fixated on the TV screen, unable to keep yourself from smiling even though one of the side characters is getting brutally murdered. Your smile only gets bigger when he squeezes your hand back.

You stay like this for so long that your and Heeseung’s hands seem to melt together, and you can hardly tell where your own fingers end anymore. The doorbell rings during another tense scene, making everyone jump in their seats, but it’s just the pizza guy. 

Seeun goes to get the door and pay, and the poor girl has barely placed the pizzas on the coffee table that the boys are already pouncing on it like starved children. Only Heeseung stays put, laughing at his friends and waiting for them to get a slice. The fact that he gives you a plate - with a slice of your favorite pizza, no less - before getting his own shouldn’t make your heart race as much as it does, but your cheeks still heat up at the simple gesture. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide your flustered expression as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’

You all eat your fill and watch the rest of the movie, agreeing that the end was quite disappointing (even though you were all stressing out and holding onto each other for dear life during the climax - Heeseung’s hand found yours again as soon as you were done eating, and you’re pretty sure one of his fingers was close to breaking with how hard you were grabbing him).

To everyone’s surprise, Seeun announces that she’s going to bed halfway through the second movie. 

“But it’s only eleven p.m.!” Chaeyeong protests, as if knowing the time would make Seeun change her mind.

“I know, but that pizza took me out for some reason. I’ve been falling asleep for the past half hour, might as well just go to bed.” There’s not much to argue, so a chorus of ‘goodnights’ ensues as Seeun trudges upstairs. The three on the couch immediately use the added space to spread out more, Sunghoon extending his legs to the side so that the back of his knees rests in Chaeyeong’s lap and his feet in Jake’s. Both of them complain about the weight but don’t do anything to make him actually move, so he contentedly keeps his position.

You can’t help but think that with Seeun gone, you can also make yourself more comfortable. You’re thinking about whether to change your position on the armchair, going over the different ways Heeseung might react, when you catch Chaeyeong’s look. She raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, “what are you waiting for?” as if your next move should be obvious. You look away from her and back at the screen, then start to lean backwards as naturally as possible, but that’s hard to do when your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. Luckily (or not) for you, Heeseung seems to get the message immediately and wraps his free hand around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him - closer than you had intended to.

The loudness of the movie isn’t enough to drown out the sound of your sharp intake of breath at the sudden proximity, and you feel your face heating up when Heeseung chuckles at your reaction. This is a comedy movie you’ve watched a bunch of times already, which makes it all too easy for you to focus on him rather than the screen. Now that your head rests on his shoulder, if you turned your face ever-so-slightly, you could get a proper whiff of his cologne and his skin. You really, really want to bury your nose in his neck and inhale, but you’re afraid that might get you a couple of weird looks.

You look down at your intertwined hands again and happily realize that you can now unabashedly stare at Heeseung’s hands the way you had always wanted to. You can finally play with his long fingers, tracing the outline of them and bending them softly at the knuckles, and admire the lines on his palm as if they might reveal everything you want to know about him. You can finally do it, so you do, almost unconsciously - you don’t realize that you’re touching his hand as freely as if it were your own until you hear his breath start to get shakier. 

You halt your motions right away and look up at him alarmed, scared that you’ve made him uncomfortable when he avoids your gaze. But then he reaches for your hand again and the corner of his lips tug ever-so-slightly into a small smile. You’re not sure if it’s the light of the TV screen on his face, but it even seems like his cheeks have reddened. You’ve been flustered one too many times to not recognize the symptoms, but it’s still surreal to think that you might have the same effect on Heeseung as he has on you.

Giddy with this new realization, you make yourself more comfortable against Heeseung, resting your head in the dip between his neck and his shoulder and bringing your knees closer to him. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist, holding you there. You continue to play with his other hand, only half-paying attention to the movie. In this new position, you can feel Heeseung’s chest rising in rhythm with his breathing, and that is much more mesmerizing to you than any movie could be.

The only times you tear yourself away are when Jay brings snacks in from the kitchen and when you need to go to the toilet between the second and third movies. Other than that, you stay cuddled up close to Heeseung, basking in the warmth you’d been longing for for years. It’s so comfortable that you never want to leave, even when Heeseung’s touch burns as his hand sneakily finds its way underneath your t-shirt to trace patterns against the bare skin of your waist. You almost yelp from how unexpected but pleasant it is.

You both easily stay awake until the end of the third movie, perhaps because your nerves are too much in a frenzy from being so close for you to feel sleepy. Sunghoon, Jake and Chaeyeong, however, have all fallen asleep, and Jay wishes you goodnight and heads upstairs as soon as the movie is over. 

In a whispered conversation that feels too intimate for your own good, you and Heeseung decide to let the others sleep on the couch rather than wake them up, and to clean up the pizza boxes and other things littering the coffee table.

It’s quiet as you throw the trash away and put everything back in cupboards or in the fridge. You’re on your last bite of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza when Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.

“So…”

You look at him as he stands, lower back against the counter and gaze directed towards the ground. Now that you’re in a bright room, you know that the blush on his cheeks isn’t just a trick of the light. A smile that mirrors his grows on your lips at his endearing shyness.

“So…” you echo, making him chuckle.

“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck. You’re not sure how this is the same Heeseung that had held you close to him just moments prior, but you understand that he might revert back to his nervous self when he’s in a more serious situation. You’re not completely relaxed either.

You pretend to think for a second, but you know exactly what it is you want to ask. “Well, there is this thing I’ve been curious about…” you start. He looks at you and tilts his head to the side, so you take it as your cue to go on. “What the hell happened when you were away at college for you to come back so different?” you ask with an amused tone to your voice.

So he tells you about his freshman year. About the party that Jake dragged him to and everything that ensued after it. He doesn’t go into too much detail about exactly how he met Yunjin or all the flirting (and kissing) practice he’s had, just saying that he found ways to build his confidence - and at the end, he quietly confesses that he’d done it to find the courage to confess to you, but that it hadn’t gone so well after all. You try not to dwell on the fact that he changed so much for you, because thinking about it for too long would probably melt you into a puddle. 

“What do you mean, it didn’t go so well?” you question softly, lowering your voice to the same volume as him. You’ve realized that when you and Heeseung talk, you often end up doing so really quietly. You don’t know why you like it so much.

“Well, you know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he starts, trying to make his tone the least reproachful he can, because he’s not mad at you, not at all - if anything, he’s mad at himself. “So I thought I’d really messed things up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up, Heeseung. If anything, I’m the one who made things weird. I just…” You sigh. “I’m so scared of Seeun finding out. But…”

“But?” he prompts, a hopeful look on his face. Clearly, dating his sister’s best friend isn’t as much of a dilemma for him as it is for you. 

“But I’m more scared of letting you go now that I finally have you,” you say to the ground.

A beat passes. “So don’t,” he whispers, voice so low you barely hear it - but you do, and you understand his words loud and clear. They resonate in your head as he takes a step closer to you, then another and another. You feel your heart pulse throughout your entire body when he reaches you, standing right in front of you. 

Your breath hitches when he rests one of his hands on the kitchen counter behind you. Gently, he cups one side of your face with his other hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to look up at him. He’s so close you could count every single one of his eyelashes. 

“So don’t,” he repeats with a small smile. When he bends down to kiss you, melting against his lips is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

The feeling of his soft lips against yours brings you back immediately to that closet. You both only realize just how much you’d been itching to pick things up from where you’d left them when the kiss gets heated in a matter of mere seconds, your need and longing for each other over the past five days evident in the way you pull each other impossibly close.

Your hands reach up, first resting on his shoulders but quickly finding their way towards the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair there almost instinctively, desperate to have something to hold onto. Meanwhile, his hands brush along your sides, moving from your hips to your waist before they encircle your middle in an attempt to bring you closer to him.

There’s no battle for dominance in your kiss, no trying to win the other over, no trying to make the other succumb - rather, you fall easily into each other’s rhythm, relishing in the other’s taste and the long awaited proximity. His mouth is soft against yours, his hair is soft under your hands, and his touch is driving you insane. You never want to stop.

After a few minutes, however, the light-headedness from a lack of air and kissing so passionately gets too much, so you draw back slightly to take a breath - but Heeseung seems to have other plans. He reacts immediately to you pulling away, and doesn’t even give you a second to breathe before pressing his lips back against yours, as though his air were your kiss. 

The suddenness makes you gasp, and he takes that opportunity to brush his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss even further than before. You feel your heartbeat speed up when his hands trail back down your body, but when he lowers himself slightly to reach the back of your thighs, picking you up and setting you on the counter with ease, never once breaking the kiss, you’re pretty sure your soul actually leaves you. All you can think about is Heeseung and all you can do is continue kissing him like your life depends on it. Having your face at the same level as his now that you’re up on the counter makes it all even easier and more comfortable.

But it also means he has easier access to your neck, and as soon as he realizes that, he jumps on the opportunity. Breaking away from the kiss, he presses his lips to the corner of your own before making his way along your jawline and down your neck. Your breaths come out heavy, almost sigh-like, and you really have to keep yourself from making any noise, lest the others in the room right next to you might wake up and hear you. The feeling of Heeseung’s lips on the sensitive skin of your neck is completely new to you, but it’s an amazing kind of new - it’s the kind of new you know you won’t ever get enough of, even when it becomes familiar. 

His kisses are burning hot, and yet goosebumps spread all over your body. When he finds the spot that has you taking in a sharp breath and gripping his hair tighter, Heeseung is quick to focus his attention there and there only. He nips lightly at the skin, and that has you whispering out his name. Hearing that only makes him double down on his actions; he alternates between biting down and kissing to relieve your skin, and he’s only satisfied when there’s a bright red spot in the crook of your neck. God, where did he learn how to do all that? Is this what they teach in college?!

He looks up at you with a proud smile, and he’s so cute that you almost say nothing about the very obvious mark he just left on you, but you still feel the need to scold him. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, doing things like this,” you say with a smile just as bright as his, which probably doesn’t make you look very serious, but you can’t help it - you’re on cloud nine right now.

“What if I want to get into trouble with you?” he replies, gaze fixed on your lips. You can’t say anything in return at that, so you just slightly shake your head in amusement and lean back in to kiss him again. 

It seems that sharing so much oxygen has gotten to both of your heads, because this time around, the kiss is more light-hearted than intense, noses bumping into each other and teeth almost clashing from how hard the both of you are smiling, giggles spilling out through every touch of your lips.

“See? I told you!” 

The sudden sound of Jake’s voice coming from the doorway forces you and Heeseung apart and your face heats up immediately at the sight of Jake, Chaeyeong and even Sunghoon all looking at the two of you with a surprised but proud expression on their faces.

He takes a small step back from you and turns his body to face them, but can’t actually bring himself to look at them; you’re not much better, smiling shyly at your lap and playing with your hands in shame at being caught. At least it wasn’t by Seeun. 

Sunghoon approaches Heeseung with big steps, clapping a hand loudly against his friend’s back when he reaches him. “You finally did it, man! I’m so proud of you,” he exclaims, and actually sounds really excited. 

Heeseung risks a glance your way, obviously embarrassed by his friend’s words, but it only makes you smile harder. You slightly curse yourself for not having realized Heeseung liked you back earlier - you could’ve done this such a long time ago. As Sunghoon continues congratulating Heeseung, you catch Chaeyeong’s gaze, and she winks at you. You find yourself relieved to have her on your side, but you know that sooner or later, you’ll have to talk to Seeun about this. 

Indeed, the five of you head upstairs to go to bed, and before Heeseung and you go your separate ways, he catches your hand, squeezes it once tightly as if to bid you a silent ‘good night,’ then smiles his bright smile at you - and you know you’re in deep, far too deep to keep it secret for long.

(There’s an awkward conversation the next morning when Seeun asks how the hell you had gotten a hickey and Chaeyeong immediately jumps in, saying she did it. “For… practice,” she’d explained with as convincing a smile as she could. Luckily for you both, Seeun wouldn’t put it past her to actually do that, so she didn’t question it much further.)

--

You and Heeseung start sneaking around anyway, not quite ready to reveal your budding relationship to the world (read: Seeun).

You can’t hang out at your house, because your parents would see or hear him, and blabber innocently to the adult Lees, even if you told them not to - why couldn’t they talk to each other about their kids dating? It’s great news! Let’s have a family dinner! What? You don’t want Seeun to know? But she’s your best friend! She’ll understand, she’ll be happy for you!

You don’t need to actually have the conversation to know what your parents will say. You’ve known them for eighteen years, after all.

For more obvious reasons, you can’t hang out at his house, either - if you’re there, it means you’re with Seeun, and the risk of her finding you in her brother’s room was too great to take. 

At least Heeseung has a car. But it’s not like you can go many places, anyway - the town you live in isn’t huge, chances of running into an old classmate or even a friend are high, news travels fast, word of Heeseung and you dating could easily get back to Seeun. You went to your local diner for your first secret date with Heeseung (Chaeyeong, of course, knew about it, but Seeun thought your period cramps were too bad to sleep over that night), and there, you’d seen three different people that you knew, and Heeseung two. 

He didn’t seem to care much about his sister, or anyone for that matter, finding out about the two of you - in fact, if it was up to him, he’d have screamed it to the world right after you’d kissed at the party. But he respected your wishes, and even found your slight paranoia and darting eyes the whole evening somehow endearing - although he wished you’d paid more attention to him than to the other patrons in the diner. You hadn’t even noticed when he stole a whole handful of fries from your plate, or when he switched your strawberry milkshake with his vanilla one.

So he did the one thing he knew would get your attention - when you both reached his car, he led you to the backseat before you could head to the passenger side. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he had you on his lap, a devilish smirk on his lips that you only got a glimpse of before he trapped your own, slightly parted in surprise, in a kiss. There was a faint protest of “what if someone sees us” but any complaint you might have held flew away when his tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entry that you immediately granted. After all, you were just as desperate for more of him as he was for more of you.

You couldn’t break away from the kiss - how could you, when his lips slotted against yours so perfectly, as if you were specially crafted for one another? All you could do was hope that the fire between you two made the windows of Heeseung’s car fog up so that no one could see inside and get a glimpse of what you were doing in there.

It wasn’t any of their business anyway.

That first date opened your eyes to the many advantages of car dates. On warm summer nights like the ones you’re currently having, you can find a wide, empty space, and park there, laying down a blanket on the roof of the car and admiring the stars. You can spend hours sharing childhood anecdotes, asking Heeseung a thousand times about the moment he realized he liked you, and telling each other the things you’d always been too scared to reveal to another person. If you get hungry, you can drive to any food place and enjoy your late-night meal from your seats in the parking lot, or drive to another place with a view - although you don’t really need any sort of scenery when Heeseung sits next to you. His delighted expression as he takes his first bite or his eyes looking at you with fondness you didn’t know you could elicit from someone are some of the beautiful sights your eyes have ever been blessed with.

And after that, because innocent hand-holding and not-so-innocent thigh touches always lead to something else, most nights, you find yourselves in the backseat, basking in each other’s warmth and relishing the other’s touch. Every time, you grow needier. Every time, you need more. But so does he, and so you take and take and take just as much as you give and give and give. Even after two weeks of doing this, you’re just as on edge as before, just as reactive to any certain look he might send your way or any touch of his. You’re so relaxed, so comfortable when the two of you are talking - but as soon as you notice him glancing at your lips, or the streetlights hit him a certain way, you’re reminded of the incredible way his kiss makes you feel, and your mind fixates on it, not satisfied until you have his body close to yours. 

You also quickly find out that Heeseung’s favorite drink is Coke and you almost always taste it on his lips. You even bought Coke-flavored chapstick just to have a trace of him when you can’t be together (you’re also maybe hoping that he’ll taste the soda on your own lips, and start thinking of you whenever he drinks it.

What you don’t know is that Heeseung is always thinking of you, no matter what he’s doing, anyways).

There’s also moments where you both revert back to your flustered selves, like when you stare too hard at him for his liking (he actually loves it, it just makes him really shy) or when he compliments you out of nowhere. In those moments, it’s like you forget about the many passionate kisses you’ve shared, like you’re back on one of those comfortably silent bus rides or in that sunlit room, trying to finish a puzzle together. But then his hand grazes against yours, and you’re reminded you can hold it with confidence now - you can do many things with confidence now. As the days pass, Heeseung is pleasantly surprised to see you initiate more and more of your makeout sessions, and although your impatience to get your hands on him strokes his ego, he’ll never get tired of you avoiding his gaze when he calls you pretty.

You have to make sure not to meet up too often, otherwise your continued absence would raise Seeun’s suspicion, but it’s also hard to go more than a day without spending a little time with the other. It seems that after years of unknown mutual pining, you’ve both run out of patience and can’t stand to be away from each other for too long. This is why, more than once, Heeseung has pulled you into his room just to smell your hair or bury his face in the crook of your neck or make out - but you always make him put a five-minute timer on.

Truth be told, even though you knew your feelings for Heeseung weren’t surface level, in all the times you’d daydreamed about finally being with him, you hadn’t expected it’d be so intense. Maybe that’s what happens when you find out that the other person felt the same way you had felt about them the whole time - you feel so stupid for not finding out sooner that you can’t afford to waste a second, and years of deep emotions are squeezed into mere hours of being able to see each other at a time. 

It’s the hardest when your two friend groups hang out - he’s right there, but you can’t do anything. He sits next to you at the table or on the couch and pretends like everything’s completely normal, but you grow even quieter than usual because his scent and proximity drive you crazy. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you getting flustered or clearly having to hold back - something about only him having that effect on you does something to his brain.

Chaeyeong and Jake are both your allies and worst enemies. While they always cover for you, they also love to put you and Heeseung in… situations. Like “off-handedly” mentioning that game of seven minutes in heaven or that movie night (without mentioning you directly, of course, but they know what you’re thinking and you know what they’re thinking), sending you on snack runs together or somehow leaving you two behind, alone in a room. 

Or proposing an evening at the pool.

During the summer, your municipal pool stays open late at night every day, and on week evenings, it doesn’t get very crowded. If you go there once the sun’s set, the atmosphere is amazing - the glow of the lights in the pool gives the whole space a bright blue hue, and the stars shine directly inside through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. If you’re lucky, you and your friends might go on a night when you get the whole place to yourselves.

You know it’s a good idea. You know you’ll all have fun, but you also know you’ll have to pretend that seeing Heeseung half-naked with wet hair isn’t putting you on the verge of spontaneously combusting. The worst part is you don’t even need to use your imagination at all to conjure up that image - you’ve seen him in the hallway as he came out of the shower before, so you already know how devastatingly good he’ll look at the pool. You’re weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Getting ready for the pool and the drive there pass in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in the changing room, and all you need to do is dress down to your bikini and head towards the pool where a shirtless Heeseung will be waiting to greet you. 

You wrap your towel around your waist in an attempt to cover yourself until you actually need to get into the water. Because not only are you freaking out about seeing Heeseung in his swimsuit, you’re also nervous about him seeing you half-naked. The last time you went to the pool together, puberty still hadn’t hit either of you, and you were still in the happy years of not being self-aware of your body or of others’. Even though summer hang-outs with his friends and yours weren’t so uncommon, you’d never gone to the pool together, and the fact that you’re now dating and you know he’ll be looking at you only adds to your nerves. 

All four boys are already in the water when you, Chaeyeong and Seeun arrive, and you notice with horror that they all quiet down and study the three of you as you approach and rid yourselves of your towels, setting them on a bench before heading into the water.

Boys.

It makes Chaeyeong giggle and Seeun roll her eyes, but your whole body is burning under Heeseung’s intense gaze. You watch as his eyes slowly make their way up your body as if trying to commit each inch of you to memory. When your eyes finally lock, a smirk grows on his lips as though he couldn’t care less that you caught him so unashamedly staring. At first, you look away with a huff, but his gaze doesn’t leave you as you and the girls wade into the water towards the boys, so you fix with him a pointed glare instead.

You do your best to ignore him as you all play around in the pool, racing each other to one end and back or trying to drown each other, but that’s hard to do when he seems so set on teasing you as much as he can. He sometimes switches victims and decides to terrorize his little sister or Jake instead, but you’re still his main target. You want to be mad at him, but he seems so excited and happy that you can’t bring yourself to actually scold him. You’ve never seen him so playful, and the way he laughs carefreely, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the edges, makes your heart swell with adoration for him. 

There aren’t that many other people in the pool, mostly kids from high school, who are hogging all the inflatable pool toys - but that doesn’t pose a problem for your group. “Let’s play chicken fight!” you hear Jake say at least four times before someone actually listens to him and agrees.

Someone calls out Jay’s name - you turn your head in the direction of the voice to find that it’s Jiung, whom you vaguely recognize as one of his friends from school. From his uniform, you assume that he’s on shift as the lifeguard. Jay swims towards him and they get into conversation, conveniently leaving six people to play Jake’s game.

This is how he pairs you up - you with Heeseung (of course), him with Chaeyeong and Sunghoon with Seeun. You notice the two of them sharing a small smile, and even though it’s quite dark, you’re pretty sure you notice their faces reddening. You glance at Chaeyeong, who’s already looking at you with a surprised expression - she saw it too. Jake is too excited to play chicken fight to pay anything else attention. He explains the rules, stricter than you’d expected and many of which seem completely made up by him, and announces who will play first. Clearly, Jake takes his chicken fighting very seriously.

You and Heeseung are first up against Seeun and Sunghoon. Heeseung lowers himself underwater so you can get onto shoulders, and you hold onto his head for dear life as he comes back up, loudly releasing the breath he’d been holding in. There’s something thrilling about being so close to Heeseung around the others that you can’t help but giggle for seemingly no reason. You even bend forwards, beaming down at him as you help him push his drenched hair out of his eyes. His eyes meet yours and you giggle together - for a second, it really feels like it’s just the two of you in the pool, but then Jake calls out for you to get ready and starts the countdown for the fight to start.

It’s a bit hard to concentrate on the game when Heeseung’s large hands hold tightly onto your bare thighs, but you do your best to will any impure thoughts away and focus on getting Seeun off of Sunghoon’s shoulders. You both laugh as you grab onto each other, trying to make the other fall while the boys splash each other with water. It’s a tense game that has Jake and Chaeyeong cheering from where they sit on the edge of the pool, and your balance is thrown off a couple times (when Seeun gets into a game, she stops at nothing to win), but Heeseung’s legs are strong and he’s always quick to steady you before you can fall over. 

A loud noise coming from the other kids in the pool momentarily catches your attention, but Seeun immediately pounces on you, not unlike a predator on its prey. With a yelp, you fall back into the water, bringing Heeseung down with you. When you come back to the surface, the sound of your opponents celebrating their victory is no more than a faint ring in your ears - the feeling of Heeseung wrapping his arm around your waist and the way he beams down at you, murmuring that you did a good job, make you forget about everything and everyone around you. Your gazes only stay locked like this for maybe two seconds, but you swear time stops for a bit.

Jake’s voice snaps you out of your daze, and you and Heeseung take his and Chaeyeong’s seats on the side of the pool while they get ready to challenge Seeun and Sunghoon. You’re relieved to find that you actually manage to hoist yourself up out of the water and onto the pool’s edge without making a fool of yourself in front of Heeseung. 

You want to watch the game peacefully and cheer on your friends, but Heeseung is making it a bit hard. He really, really doesn’t need to be sitting this close to you. He’s leaning back on his palms, toned stomach and chest on display, which is already attractive enough, but his right thigh is also pressed flush against your left one, so much so that you know it has to be intentional. Because he’s placed his right palm close behind you, you can feel his right arm against your lower back as well, and you’re almost tempted to lean back against it. 

You’re completely lost in thought, brain only focused on everywhere your body and Heeseung’s touch. It’s like he can see into your mind - he lightly pinches your hip, just underneath the string of your bikini bottoms, and you almost let out a loud gasp. But you manage to keep it down and sit up straight instead, looking at him over your shoulder like he just killed your entire family. He has the audacity to laugh. 

This man really has no shame, rendering you unable to think straight in front of everyone like this. Although, to be fair, it’s also partly your fault for reacting so much to such small things. 

“Hey guys,” a vaguely familiar voice calls out, and you turn your head to find Jiung and Jay walking towards you. There’s a chorus of hey Jiungs from the four in the water, but they quickly get their heads back in the game. Jay stays standing, watching his friends fight while Jiung crouches behind you and Heeseung.

“So are you guys finally together?” he asks excitedly, a genuine grin on his face, and both you and Heeseung choke on your own saliva. Did everyone know about your mutual crushes before you two did?!

You exchange a glance with Heeseung but quickly look away, suddenly finding great interest in Chaeyeong’s and Seeun’s tactics to make each other fall over.

Heeseung’s eyes dart between your face and Jiung’s as he answers, as if scared he might say one wrong word and offend you in some way. “Um, yeah, we are. But we’re not really… telling people, I guess.”

Jiung gasps in delight, clasping Heeseung’s shoulder in what you guess is a congratulatory gesture. “Keeping it lowkey. Got it. Congrats, you guys. Jay told me about you, like, three years ago, and I’ve been weirdly invested ever since,” he admits honestly, and you try hard to fight back the grin threatening to spread on your lips. You’d never even spoken to Choi Jiung before.

From your peripheral, you can make out Heeseung turning his head to glare at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Jay,” he mumbles.

A loud splash catches everyone’s attention; Chaeyeong has fallen off of Jake’s shoulders, and the other two are celebrating their second win in a row. Your friend just laughs, getting her long hair out of her face, but Jake is practically fuming.

“You guys make a pretty good team, I guess,” he says, and even though it’s supposed to be a compliment, he really doesn’t sound happy about it. 

“We do, don’t we?” Sunghoon echoes, looking up at Seeun with a smile.

“We do,” she answers with a giggle.

A giggle.

Seeun didn’t giggle. Unless… 

You lock eyes with Chaeyeong. She looks just as surprised as you feel. You tilt your head towards the two lovebirds, who seem lost in their own world, Sunghoon jumping around in the water with Seeun still on his shoulders and laughing. Chaeyeong nods fervently, as if screaming, “I know, I’m seeing it too!”

Seeun didn’t giggle, unless she had a crush on someone. You very much remember the day in freshman year when her middle school crush Kim Sunwoo, a senior at the time, picked up her locker keys that she had dropped in the hallway. The way she turned around when he tapped on her shoulder, awestruck as he smiled, handing her her keys, was straight out of a movie. She blushed and giggled to herself about it for the next two weeks.

You turn to look at Heeseung, but he’s busy listening to Jake, Jay and Jiung as they come up with a strategy to make the victors lose next time around. You internally roll your eyes at their obliviousness, but at least now you know why Heeseung had never figured out you liked him back.

“C’mon Jiung, let’s go beat their arrogant asses,” Jay then prompts, making his friend chuckle and get into the water. They wade their way towards the others, and when Jiung gets on Jay’s shoulders, Seeun’s game face is back on. Your friend can be quite scary.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the pool, lifeguard boy?” Sunghoon taunts like a three-year-old, although you’re not sure that “lifeguard boy” is much of an insult. It’s generally accepted that lifeguards are pretty cool.

“Everyone left, dumbass,” Jiung answers plainly. “It’s just us.”

You all look around, and indeed, the high school kids are gone, which means you have the whole place to yourselves. 

Seeun looks back at Jiung with a smirk. “Good for you. At least those kids won’t see how much of a loser you are when we destroy you and Jay.”

Chaeyeong and Jake ‘ooh’ at her threat while you and Heeseung watch amusedly. You can’t help but think it isn’t that serious, but seeing your friends so into the game is quite fun.

“Bring it on!” Jiung exclaims, and neither team lets Jake count down before they start attacking each other. The poor guy tries to stop Seeun and Jiung from playing so dirty, reminding them that hair-pulling and armpit-tickling are forbidden, but the two really couldn’t care less, so he quickly gives up trying to make them abide by the rules.

Chaeyeong comes to sit next to you and nudges your shoulder with her own to get your attention. “What do you think’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon? It’s definitely new.”

You almost hear the boys’ necks crack as they whip their heads to look at you. “Something’s happening with Seeun and Sunghoon?” they whisper-scream at the same time. You’re glad the topic subjects are too engrossed in their game to hear anything.

You chuckle at their reaction but Chaeyeong rolls her eyes. “Obviously. They’ve been acting like teenagers this whole evening.”

“They are teenagers,” Heeseung says with a slight frown as he watches his sister and his friend. “They’re eighteen and nineteen.”

Chaeyeong tuts. “That’s not important. Plus, you really don’t get to anything, Heeseung, when you’ve been going around fucking your sister’s best-”

Jake starts immediately howling of laughter, but all you want in that moment is to let yourself drown in the water and never have to face your friend ever again.

Heeseung’s eyes are wide and his hands are frantically shaking ‘no’ as incoherent protests spill out of his lips. “I- no- we haven’t, we’re not-” He sighs defeatedly when Jake just laughs harder and Chaeyeong joins in. 

She knows you guys haven’t done anything of that sort yet, you’ve been telling her - or rather she’s been making you tell her - everything that happens between you and Heeseung. She’s just teasing you, and it’s really working, and you hate her for it. You fix her with a glare that does nothing to make her laughter stop. When you look at Heeseung, his eyebrows have furrowed deeper, and a light blush has spread all over his face, ears and even his neck. With a small pout on his lips, he’s never looked more adorable. Nothing beats the sight of a flustered and slightly mad Heeseung.

His hands have returned to his lap, his right one fidgeting with the hem of his swim trunks. In a moment of boldness, you decide to take it in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you smile at him - to be honest, you were also slightly amused by Chaeyeong’s words. She was right; he really couldn’t say anything about his sister liking one of his friends when he’d made out with you so often. 

You notice with satisfaction that he can’t keep eye contact and that the color on his face deepens.

You all turn back to the tense game in front of you, noting with surprise that Seeun actually seems to have the upper hand over Jiung. She must be a seasoned chicken fighter, because she loses neither her balance nor her grip on Jiung once. The older boy doesn’t even yelp when he falls into the water, as if he’d seen it coming. Beaming proudly, Seeun gets off of Sunghoon’s shoulders and the two share a quick celebratory hug before shaking their opponents’ hands. The four of them swim their way towards you and you all hang out for a while, letting the fighters regain their energy. 

“There’s something I’m not really supposed to do…” Jiung then says, and chuckles when he feels seven pairs of eyes watching him intently. “But I have the keys to the slides, and I know how to operate them.” Everyone cheers before he can even finish his sentence, and Jake and Chaeyeong are quick to get out of the water and run upstairs to the entrance of the slides. Jiung hurries to get the keys and follow them, the rest of you close behind.

Your heart starts beating loudly as soon as you place your foot on the first step. You try to ignore it - you’d never been a fan of attractions like big water slides or roller coasters, but you should get over it one day or another. Might as well try today.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, but once you’ve reached the slides and Jiung gets them running, the loud gush of water falling rapidly makes you feel like you’re going to faint. Seeun’s screams as she goes down, even though they’re from excitement, don’t help your lightheadedness. 

When Jake pushes himself down the slide, you clear your throat to speak. You hadn’t even realized how dry your throat had gotten, and the shakiness in your voice takes you aback. “Um, I think I’m gonna sit this one out, guys. I’m not feeling too well.”

Everyone turns to you with a worried expression, and from your peripheral, you notice Heeseung’s hand jolting up towards you, but he stops himself before he actually touches you.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t like slides,” Chaeyeong says with a pout.

“There’s nothing to be scared of! This is totally safe,” Jiung tries to reassure, but for some reason, his eagerness makes you even more doubtful.

“We can go together,” Heeseung suddenly offers. Judging from his expression, he seems surprised at his own words, as if he’d spoken out loud without realizing it. A chorus of agreement rises from the group, and Heeseung’s smile as he looks down at you makes you think that it might be okay to try - although you’re not sure if that’s because you want to get over your fear of slides, or if it’s because the idea of Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist and keeping you safe is very alluring. 

“O-okay,” you answer, and his smile widens.

You wait until everyone except for Jiung has gone down. Heeseung stands behind you the whole time, a calming hand on your shoulder and the other playing with your drying hair, and his presence actually does wonders to soothe you. When it’s your turn, you sit down right at the top of the slide, trying not to freak out from the feeling of the gushes of water underneath your thighs. For once, Heeseung’s touch as he sits behind you, encaging your body between his legs and his arms, is reassuring rather than fatally heart-fluttering. Now you understand what people mean when they say they feel like nothing can hurt them as long as they’re in their lover’s arms.

“You ready?” Jiung calls out. You’re too nervous to make a peep, only able to nod, so Heeseung answers for you.

“We are.” Just before Jiung can give Heeseung a push, the boy behind you bends down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

You hum back but the faint sound is drowned out by the noise around you as you’re whisked down the slide. It’s so loud and so fast that you’re sure you’d have been screaming like you were being murdered had Heeseung not been there to calm you down. The grip you have on his hands probably hurts, but he doesn’t complain, just laughs from the adrenaline the ride is giving him, and his calmness manages to make your heart stay calm.

You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut until he told you to open them. The previous flashing lights that had overwhelmed you even with your eyes closed were over, and when you blink your eyes open, you’re fascinated to find that there is no top over the slide, letting the stars shine down on you in all their glory. The feeling of the night breeze against your skin is surprisingly refreshing, and you actually let out a ‘wow,’ all of your previous anxiety slowly leaving your body. This time, when Heeseung giggles against your ear, you actually join him. 

Your friends are the sweetest, and when you reach the end of the slide and fall into the water, they’re all clapping and cheering for you as if you’d just come first place in a marathon. You discern a sort of inquisitive look on Seeun’s face as she looks at you and her brother, but you decide to not pay it too much attention and swim away from the slide for Jiung’s arrival.

“So? Wasn’t too bad, right?” Heeseung asks with a grin, his hand sneakily finding yours underwater.

“No, it was nice, actually. Doesn’t mean I’m going a second time, though,” you reply, and he chuckles. You force yourself to look away from his smiling face because you know how easily you can get lost in his gaze, and you’d rather not raise any more suspicion. You swim to the edge of the pool, hoisting yourself up out of the water so you can dry off a bit in the night air.

Jiung whoops his whole way down, and as soon as he comes back to the surface, he asks who wants to go again. Everyone except for you and Heeseung raise their hands. “You’re not going again?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

He’s still smiling, and you wished it was just the two of you so you could kiss that pretty smile right off his face. “No, one time was enough for me. I’ll stay here with you.”

This, of course, elicits an obnoxious chorus of ‘ooh’s from your friends. “O-kay,” Chaeyeong says in a singsong voice.

“We’ll leave you two to it, then,” Jake adds with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You hadn’t known you had such murderous tendencies in you until you met this boy.

When you catch Seeun’s gaze, she’s looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows. For a split second, you feel like you’re gonna crumble - she’s gonna figure it out, and she’ll hate you and never speak to you again, and- but then she smiles, just a tiny hint of a smile, and you think that maybe, just maybe, this might be fine after all.

You release a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding when she walks away with the others, but a second breath gets caught in your throat right away when Heeseung crosses his arms over your lap, and you realize it’s gonna be just you two for a little while now. It’s exactly what you had wished for not even a minute ago, but now that it’s actually happening, your heart starts beating wildly once again. 

“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you adore so much.

A grin breaks out on your face. He closes his eyes, sighing contentedly as your hand rakes through his dark locks. “Thank you,” you reply just as quietly. “I would never have done something like that on my own.”

He opens his eyes again. The way he looks at you makes you wonder what he sees in your eyes that has him so captivated. You just hope he can’t hear the loudness of your beating heart.

He presses himself closer to you, somewhat forcing your thighs open to accommodate his body in between them, and wraps his arms around your waist. Even if he can’t hear your heartbeat, he can surely hear your shaky intake of breath as he places a soft kiss to the top of your thigh before resting his cheek against it, closing his eyes like he’s planning on napping right there. Your fingers are still in his hair but your brain has stopped computing, so they stay immobile. You try to stay calm so as not to disturb the position Heeseung is in, but your stomach has never been so swarmed by butterflies as now. 

Somehow, this feeling is even scarier than going down the slide - maybe because you knew the slide would end at some point. This feels like it might consume you whole and stay with you for the rest of your life. The worst part is you don’t even know exactly what it is that you’re feeling. But it’s everywhere. It makes your fingertips sizzle with electricity, it makes your head almost ache, and it twists your insides all around, but it’s also weirdly pleasant.

It makes you want more.

You can’t believe one simple kiss on your thigh is making you react this way, but now that you’ve felt it, it’s as though you might die if you don’t get to have it over and over again; you already know that a second or a third time won’t be enough either.

“Heeseung?” you call, his name coming out like a question, and his head whips up so quickly you think he might have been waiting for you to say something.

“Yeah?” he replies, something that sounds like anticipation making his voice come out as a whisper. 

You weren’t even completely sure what it was you wanted to say, but the way Heeseung looks up at you eradicates any train of thought you’d had. It’s a different type of gaze than before, something you’d only gotten glimpses of during particularly heated make-out sessions but that Heeseung had always seemed to reign in. Hooded eyes that are darker than usual, that seem to be in some sort of a daze, giving the impression that he isn’t quite thinking straight. You’re sure you’ve also had that look in your eyes more than once, when Heeseung’s hand brushed along a particularly sensitive spot on your back or when he absent-mindedly thrusted his hips against yours as you straddled his lap in the backseat, making you moan into his mouth as he hurriedly apologized for getting carried away. You didn’t know how to tell him you were ready for whatever it was he wanted, so you always shushed him with an “it’s okay” and resumed kissing him feverishly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t press yourself down against his bulge - that neither of you mentioned, but both knew was there - just to get a reaction out of him once in a while, and to get that fire-like feeling in your belly you were starting to crave more and more.

You try to push those far-from-innocent thoughts away from your mind and come up with something to say, but then someone disturbs your peace. Indeed, you hear Jake before you see him. “Heeseung and Y/N, you better not be smooching when I get there!”

Heeseung sighs deeply, a real, pained, frustrated sigh, and you’re glad you’re not the only one going crazy because of your friends. It’s like everyone has forgotten that you and Heeseung are supposed to be a secret. Reluctantly, he detaches himself from you and makes his way next to you, body still in the water but forearms resting on the ground next to the pool.

Another hour or so passes before stomachs start growling from too much fooling around in the water and you all agree to go home. Sadly, there’s nothing open so late in the night in your town, and none of you can be asked to drive all the way to the nearest city for food. On the whole drive home, Chaeyeong bombards Seeun with questions about Sunghoon. Seeun tries to avoid it at first, looking out the window to hide her growing blush, but once the two girls are similar in that once they have set their mind on something, you know they’ll get it. It only takes two minutes of arguing for Seeun to start spilling. 

“Well… I’ve known him for a really long time, right? Him and Jay became friends right away, just like the three of us did. I’ve always associated him with Heeseung, so I never thought of him that way…”

“What way?” Chaeyeong cuts in, although she knows exactly what Seeun means.

“Like- like more than a friend,” Seeun explains, voice getting quieter the more she speaks. Chaeyeong squeals in excitement and you chuckle.

“So what happened?” Chaeyeong prompts, and you almost want to remind her to focus on the road. You don’t need to get into a car accident over Seeun’s love life.

Seeun sighs like she’s exasperated by Chaeyeong, but you catch her small smile in the rearview mirror and you know she’s actually happy to be talking about this with you guys. “So, you know that movie night we had?” she starts, waiting for the two of you to nod. You try not to think about what you did on that movie night. “Well, we were sitting next to each other, which usually would’ve been totally fine, right, but for some reason, it made me feel super nervous that night. Like I was hyper-aware of his presence next to me. I could actually smell him, and oh my God, he smells so good, I don’t know how I’d never realized that-”

You and Chaeyeong burst into laughter at that, and Seeun can’t help but join in. “Smelling good is definitely attractive,” you chime in, thinking about how intoxicating it is to have your nose buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck and get a whiff of his scent.

“And, like, I’ve always known Sunghoon was handsome, right, I’m not blind, but I swear I never felt a particular type of way about him before then, just ‘cause I always saw him as one of my loser brother’s loser friends,” she says, and you make a mental note to repeat that to Heeseung later, “And at first I thought I was going crazy, that I was just feeling that way ‘cause we were sitting so close together in a dark room and everything, but then our knees touched, and I was like, ‘okay, I shouldn’t be losing my shit just ‘cause our knees touched,’ but I was losing my shit-”

She’s retelling the story in such a dramatic, un-Seeun-like and very Chaeyeong-like way that you can’t stop laughing, your stomach almost starting to hurt. “Which is why I went to bed during the second movie. And after that, I was thinking about him so much it was so weird, and I thought I was doomed ‘cause I didn’t wanna have a crush on my brother’s best friend, right?” she says, and Chaeyeong’s and your eyes meet for a second in the mirror. “But then you know that fair thing they had in town last week? You guys wouldn’t volunteer with me, but he was volunteering too, so we spent, like, three days in a row together, and it was really, really fun. We would spend the whole day together, eat together, even hang out afterwards and everything. And then we started texting, and today was the first time we saw each other again since then, actually…” She takes a deep breath there and laughs, as if relieved to have finally let it all out. 

“This is amazing news. Absolutely fantastic news,” Chaeyeong beams. “How come you didn’t tell us sooner?”

“I really wanted to but I was scared I was making up a bunch of stuff in my mind and he still saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s sister. If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately, but I don’t know, I was already trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was starting to like this guy I’ve known my whole life, so I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”

If it had been someone else I would’ve told you guys immediately. You know that feeling all too well. It makes you think that you should just go ahead and tell Seeun about you and Heeseung, but after years of conditioning yourself that she could never find out about your crush on her brother, and now that you’re dating him, it’s not easy to just come out with it.

Your attention had drifted away from the conversation for a bit but you tune back in when Chaeyeong mentions college. “Plus, he goes to our state university, right? Just like us! That means you guys don’t have to worry about long distance, same for Heeseung and Y/N-” Chaeyeong’s eyes widen immediately when she realizes what she did. 

“Heeseung and Y/N?” Seeun echoes, searching for your face in the rearview mirror.

Once more, you can thank your friend’s impeccable bullshitting abilities. “Oh, no, I just meant that even though she’s going to a different college than us, she’ll still know someone there. Not that they wouldn’t have to worry about long distance like you and Sunghoon.”

“Right,” Seeun answers, eyes still fixated on you in the mirror. An uncomfortable beat passes before she speaks again. “But is there… is there something happening between you and Heeseung, Y/N?”

You’d seen the question coming, but it still somehow manages to punch you in the stomach. Before you can even think of a way to tell your friend the truth in the most delicate way possible, your reflexes and old habits kick in. “No,” you simply reply, the lie coming to you way too easily. You hope she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your voice - you’re definitely not as good a liar as Chaeyeong. “I mean, we’ve gotten closer this summer, but that’s about it.” 

Chaeyeong stays silent, her eyes on the road. You’re less than a minute away from Seeun’s house, but you wish you could just get there already and have this conversation be over.

“Okay, if you say so,” she says, not sounding fully convinced. “But, you know, if there was, I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t be mad. A little weirded out, maybe, but not mad.” She’s looking at you so intently as she says this that you think she must know, otherwise she wouldn’t be saying all this. It’s like she’s asking you to just tell her, but still, you can’t bring yourself to do it. As if you’ve dug your own grave and have to lie in it.

Heeseung’s car is already in the driveway when you reach the Lees’ house, and he must have already gone up to his room because he isn’t in the kitchen or in the living room. You feel a slight pang of disappointment in your heart at the thought of not seeing him again tonight, even though it’s already so late, but you have a feeling you’ll stay up for hours thinking about his warm hands and his lips.

“Shower then food?” Seeun proposes when you’re all done taking your shoes off. You all nod and head up to her room. Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung. Then another, and another, and the sound piques your friends’ interest. 

“Who’s spamming you?” Chaeyeong asks, but she figures it out as soon as she sees the lovestruck smile on your face.

“Oh, just a groupchat I’m in,” you reply without looking up from your phone.

hee: Can you drop by my room? hee: Find an excuse to leave and come and see me :D hee: I want to see you. hee: Oh sorry about the period I know you don’t like that hee: I want to see you &lt;;3 hee: !!!!!!!!! hee: Please you: be there in a min hee you: i wanna see u too hee: K hee: :DDD

“Y/N, you wanna go first?” Seeun asks, snapping you out of it.

“Huh?”

“The shower. You wanna go first?” she repeats, amused by your sudden weird behavior.

“Oh, actually, um, I remembered my mom wanted to go to the farmers’ market at, like, nine tomorrow, so I should probably just sleep at home,” you say, which is actually true. You’ve never been so thankful for your mom’s love of organic and local produce. Thankfully, your friends also know about it, so they don’t question it at all and just wish you a good night.

Little do they know that you’re actually headed straight for Heeseung’s bedroom rather than your own. Normally, your paranoid brain would tell you that your friends, especially Seeun, might question why they didn’t hear the sound of the front door closing, but you doubt they’ll actually be paying attention to it.

You make a beeline for Heeseung’s room, not wanting to be caught by one of the girls as they go to the bathroom. Heeseung seems to be waiting for you, because you’ve barely knocked on his door and he’s already taking your hand, pulling you into his room.

It’s the first time you’ve been here since you were a kid, and you’re sure there’s many things on the walls and shelves to pick Heeseung’s brain about, any and every piece of himself interesting to you, but there’s one thing that stands out to you; it’s just the two of you in here. It makes your heart skip a beat in anticipation.

“Where’s Jake?”

Heeseung smiles shyly and looks down at your question. “I sort of, um, kicked him out.” You whip your head towards him at his words, looking at him with wide eyes. He chuckles. “I made him sleep over at Jay’s house. I really wanted to sneak you in here tonight.”

And just to make sure you really understand what he means by that, he fixes you with a look that can’t be misinterpreted. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches you, his smirk growing when he sees the obvious effect it has on you. He places his hands on your hips and he’s close enough for you to see how dilated his pupils are. He almost looks hungry, like he could just eat you whole, and it makes you weak in the knees. Heat rises to your face when you think about what must be going on in his head, especially since it’s probably not far from the thoughts that have been plaguing you for a while now. Unconsciously, you bring your legs closer together, and the way his eyes dip down then back up to your face with an arch of his brow like he knows what you’re thinking drives you slightly insane.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until he tilts his head at you, an amused expression on his face. “What is it, doll?” he asks, but his tone makes you inclined to think he knows exactly what it is.

You also know, but you don’t know how to put it into words. So, instead, you take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He smells like chlorine and something that’s entirely his, and you swear you’ve never smelled anything so intoxicating in your life. “Heeseung,” you murmur, voice muffled as your lips move against his skin.

“Yes?” he answers in that same amused, knowing tone. Your clear-mindedness starts to slip away from you as it often does when you’re near him.

When you repeat his name, this time more whiny as you wrap your arms tighter and bury your face deeper, he chuckles softly, a low, deep sound that sends electrifying shivers right down your spine. He places both hands on the sides of your face to make you lean back and look up at him. He can’t help but chuckle again at the pout on your lips, although your slightly hooded eyes make his stomach twist into the familiar tight knot of desire.

“I was gonna take a shower, if you’d like to join me,” he says, a glint of mischief playing in his eyes, and your own widening immediately at his words, or rather at the meaning behind them.

“A shower?!” you whisper-yell back. 

He just laughs again and nods. “Mh-hm. We can keep our swimsuits on.” He looks down at you, at your eyes that are still wide, but now more out of anticipation than shock, at the way they seem to search for reassurance in his own. You seem to find what you’re looking for, because you nod.

“We just have to wait until Seeun and Chaeyeong are done, okay? I told Seeun to text me when the bathroom’s free.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then bends down to close the distance between the two of you, just as he’s done many times before, by pressing his lips to yours. He wants to tell you that he’s fine with whatever you want to do; that you can go as fast or as slow as you want; that no matter what, he’ll always be there to hold you and kiss you and call you pretty.

But he’s not the best with words, so he opts for kissing you gently instead, probably the slowest kiss you’ve ever shared, as if he's scared you might suddenly run away from him and he'll lose your warmth.

He’s never been as relieved as when he feels you not only reciprocating the kiss, but deepening it, asking for more when you start to whine into his mouth and slightly claw at his back. It takes everything in him to pull away from you, but there’s more comfortable ways to make out, including ones that don’t involve you bending your neck backwards trying to reach his lips, so he tugs at your hand for you to follow him. “C’mere,” he says, leading you to his bed. He sits on the edge, and, with a smile you can only describe as devilish, pats his lap for you to straddle. 

You oblige immediately, of course, and even though you’ve done this many times before, it feels like the backseat of his car and his bed are worlds apart. It feels charged with an intimacy you two haven’t quite shared before, like you’re finally letting go of everything that might’ve been holding you back before and you’re now ready to take a step further together. 

At least, that’s how you feel, but if the way he sighs into your mouth as soon as you press your lips to his, and the way his hands roam your back like trying not to leave an inch of your body untouched are anything to go by, then it seems like he feels the same way.

There’s a desperation to the kiss that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire. Your hands quickly make their way to what seems their favorite place, Heeseung’s hair, and your fingers rake through it, gripping at the strands like you might float into space if you let go of him. His hands slowly make their way down your back until they reach your ass, sneaking underneath your loose shorts to grab at the skin underneath. He brings you closer to him, pressing you down onto his bulge, and it hits such a sweet spot between your thighs that you can’t fight back against the moan that makes its way out of your lips.

Heeseung is quick to shush you, and for some reason, it only makes the fire in your belly burn harder. “Shh, you have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” He continues to guide your movements against him, rubbing over that spot over and over again. Your forehead falls against his shoulder, and you know you can’t answer him, because if a sound comes out of mouth, it’ll be a moan, and not words.

But Heeseung isn’t happy with that. “Hm? I asked you a question, Y/N.”

What he is happy with is the whimper you let out at his words. “Y-yes, I’ll be quiet,” you breathe out like even saying a few words is too complicated for you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and even though you were already a mess before, these are the words that really do you in. With a small whine, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and bury your face where his jawline meets his ear, hoping that any sound coming from your mouth will be muffled there. You know there’s no point trying to kiss him right now; you won’t be able to focus on that and grind on him at the same time. 

Truth be told, Heeseung has little to no idea what he’s doing. He’s never gotten this far with anyone before, and now that he’s assumed a more dominant position, since that’s what he’d gathered you’d like from your backseat sessions, he’s scared he might have made this a lot harder for him. He wants to do his best for you and guide you through what he knows are your first sexual or even romantic experiences, but the thing is, this is also the first time for him. It’s the first time he’s had this intense, almost ravaging craving to go further with someone, to touch and be touched and just cherish every single inch of someone’s body. 

All he knows about sex, he’s gathered from porn, conversations with his guy friends, and Yunjin’s “spicy” romance novels. He has enough critical thinking skills to know that none of these are a hundred percent reliable sources, but he figured that the novels would be the closest to what women actually like.

He’d been scared sex and everything around it would be the most complicated puzzle he’d have to put together in his life. But in reality, he’s been relieved to find everything has come fairly easily. He just has to pay attention to the things you like; you like it when he takes the lead, so he does; you like it when he compliments you, so he does; you like it when he presses kisses all over your face and neck, so he does. He knows there’s still many things you like that he hasn’t found out about, but he’s more than eager to learn about each and every one of them. Apparently, you really like whatever it is the two of you are doing right now, so much so that he can feel your legs start to shake and can hear you containing your moans, so he keeps on doing it.

As for him? Well, he likes you. His biggest turn-on is seeing you turned on. Seeing your swollen lips and heavy eyelids after a make-out session, hearing your small moans and heavy breathing, feeling you rest your body against his and letting him make you feel good, like you’re doing right now, that’s what gets him going. He’s always so focused on your pleasure that he could almost forget about his own. So, it’s only when you announce through broken moans that you think you’re gonna cum that he realizes he’s dangerously close to finishing too. “That’s okay, baby, cum for me,” he coos, and that’s all you need to come undone.

He really wants to keep it in, really doesn’t want to jizz inside his pants like a highschooler, but it’s to no avail. In his defense, it’s really, really hard not to when you’re holding onto him like your life depends on it and when his name, sounding so pretty on your lips, is the only thing you can say as you cum against him. It’s something right out of a young Heeseung wet dream, and now that present-day Heeseung is actually experiencing it, he can say with pride that this is much better than a dream.

You both take a few seconds to come down from your highs, the first that you’ve shared together. It feels surreal. When you find the strength to lift your head and face Heeseung again, the look on his face is so hot, you think you might cum again from the sight alone. Hair sticking to his forehead, already-plump lips completely red, wet and swollen and curled up into a small smile. You press your foreheads together and laugh for no reason other than you couldn’t get happier than this. Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you kiss him again. You’re only eighteen, but you don’t think life gets much better than this.

Then Heeseung’s phone dings with a text from Seeun: bathroom’s free. Heeseung looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Wanna go get cleaned up?”

You giggle at his renewed eagerness and nod, letting him take your hand and guide you stealthily to the bathroom he and Seeun share. Thank God for locks.

Once inside, he lets go of your hand and turns on the mirror light rather than the bright, harsh overhead one, giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere. There’s a neck-scratching moment where neither you or Heeseung know what to do, your eyes darting nervously around the room, but it passes by when Heeseung turns around, quickly strips down to his swimming trunks once more and gets into the shower. He has his back next to you when he turns it on and finds his desired temperature, but he leaves the shower door open for you - you know he’s waiting for you to get in with him, but you’re stuck in place as you watch the water fall rapidly down his back and his muscles slightly shift out of relaxation. 

You’d seen him half-naked and wet just an hour ago, and it’d already messed with your head, but this was so much worse. Maybe it was the heat slowly rising in the room, maybe it was the fact that you could join him at any moment and get to touch him, whatever it was, it was making it hard to breathe. You practically choke when he turns back around, facing you and smiling when he realizes you haven’t moved an inch. 

“You’re not coming?” he asks quietly, and you know you can’t just stand and stare forever - you’ve done too much of that already. Your heart beats like crazy as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, then rid yourself of your shorts, because although he’d already seen you in your swimsuit, it’s nerve-wracking to undress right when you know he’s watching.

His smile hasn’t left his face when you step in and close the shower door, and he’s looking at you so intently that you have to focus on something other than his eyes, so you settle on his collarbones. Everything about him is pretty, you realize. 

You suck in a breath when he places one of his hands on your waist, then the other, and makes you get under the water with him. It’s the perfect temperature for you, not too hot that it burns but just enough to make your skin tingle, and you wonder how many more of these small things you have in common. 

“Y/N…” he says quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the shower. You finally dare to meet his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he asks with a smile, and just like that, you have to look away again, resting your forehead against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from him. Receiving a compliment from Heeseung is one thing, being in the shower with him is another; both happening at the same time is too much for you to handle. Somehow cumming in his lap wasn’t enough to rid you completely of your shyness around him. He chuckles at your reaction and wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand caresses up and down your back. 

“You have,” you manage to reply even though his touch is close to making your mind go blank.

“Well, let me say it again.” He bends down so that his mouth is right by your ear, lips tickling it when he speaks next. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words paired with his low voice make your core throb. You try not to gulp when he stands back up to his full height and smirks down at you - even though it’s impossible that he’s grown any taller in the last hour, it still feels like he towers over you much more than before. 

He doesn’t say anything more, your reaction apparently enough to satisfy him, and he reaches behind you for the body wash. He squeezes a dollop of it into his palm, and you think he’ll clean himself up, so you let out a small ‘oh’ of surprise when his hands touch the area above your chest, then start to spread the gel all over your arms, back and stomach. You watch as he lowers himself to lather your legs in the product as well, and you’re not sure why the sight of Heeseung looking up at you from this position makes your heart flutter so much. The illusion is slightly broken, though, when he decides to press a kiss to your stomach but immediately regrets it. “Soap,” he simply says before rinsing his lips with the shower water.

You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so cute sometimes, you know that?” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth naturally, and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. When you lean back, Heeseung is staring right at you, stunned.

“I’m the one who does that,” he says, a light tone of protest to his voice.

“Does what?”

“Compliments you then kisses you,” he answers with a pout, but it only makes you laugh more.

You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself flush against him and letting the water fall on top of your bodies. Before you can even comprehend the thought forming in your head at that moment, your lips betray you and words fall out of them against your will. “God, I love you so much.”

In the split second after you’ve said that, the realization hits you and your whole body stiffens. Slowly, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you lean back to see Heeseung’s reaction. He looks down at you in a mix of shock and pure, unfiltered happiness, eyebrows raised high but his smile reaches his ears. “You love me, huh?”

“Heeseung, I-”

“Good, because I love you too, Y/N.”

All the dread you felt rushes out of your body and is immediately replaced with relief. In the minute you’d realized you actually loved Heeseung and didn’t just have a big fat crush on him, you had the reassurance that he loved you, too. Life really can’t get any better than this.

Your lips find each other like second nature, but kissing is hard when you’re both so high on your confessions that you can’t stop giggling. You feel your whole body melt for him when he starts peppering kisses all over your face, saying “I love you” in between each peck. 

You take his face in your hands to steady his head and kiss him on the lips, a deep, firm kiss that has him wrapping his arms tightly around you and bringing you close to him. It’s like a switch flips inside of him, and all his playfulness transforms into intensity, and suddenly all he can think about is your lips on his and your body against his. You try not to gulp at the feeling of his growing hardness pressed against your stomach. What you’d done on the bed earlier had opened up a whole new world of sensation for the both of you to discover, and you found that you were already craving it again. 

There’s not much to be said in a situation like this; you both know what the other is thinking, it’s just a matter of who will act first. Usually, you’d rely on Heeseung to make the first move, or you’d do it yourself if you were feeling impatient; but right now, he seems to be enjoying making you squirm and taking his sweet time, hands roaming your back like he doesn’t know you’re desperate for more.

So you do what you’re usually too shy to do, and ask for what you want directly. “Heeseung, please,” you plead quietly against his lips, eyes shut tight as if in pain.

You can feel the smile that grows on his lips at your words. “Please, what?”

You take a shaky breath in and press wet kisses along his jawline before you answer. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Anything you want, doll.” 

You can feel the blood pumping through your veins as you wait for whatever Heeseung will do next, but for some reason, he’s decided not to do anything in a hurry. He slows the kiss down as his fingers trail up and down your sides at snail’s pace, and you have half a mind to just tell him to hurry up already, but there’s something delicious about being on edge like this, desperately waiting for your release.

One of his hands then makes its way to your back, finding the string of your bikini top and playing with it. “Can I take this off?” he asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the water. As soon as you nod, he unties it and pulls the fabric away from your body, letting it drop at his feet and leaving your upper body completely naked for him. Your cheeks blaze under his fascinated eyes, but in that moment, his gaze really does make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world.

His other hand that had patiently rested on your waist makes its way up your front until it reaches your breasts. 

You hadn’t even known your nipples were this sensitive until his palm brushes against one of them, making your body jolt of its own accord. Heeseung seems to like that reaction, so he starts playing with it more, twisting it lightly between his fingers, eliciting moans from you (that you try to keep down, still conscious of the fact that anyone in the house might hear you if you were too loud) and making your back arch involuntarily. 

As his hand drifts to your other breast to pay your other nipple some well-deserved attention, you decide that Heeseung deserves as much attention as he’s giving you right now. Slowly, almost innocently, your hand snakes its way down his chest and abs to his trunks. You palm him over the fabric, hoping it makes him feel as good as his hand on your breast makes you feel. As his ministrations continue, your breathing gets shallower and shallower, but you’re glad to be having a similar effect on him - he rests his forehead against yours as a breathy moan escapes his lips, and you know you’re not doing as bad a job as you think you might be. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out after a minute of this. You hum. “I think my self-control is starting to wear out,” he says, voice shaky as his hand makes its way down your side. His touch burns more than the scorching shower water.

“Good,” you simply reply, and press your lips to his. You can let go is what you’re trying to convey through your kiss as it turns hungrier, needier, more impatient. 

Apparently he gets the message, because he’s quick to push you against the shower wall, left hand behind your head and the other holding on tight to your hip. He presses himself against you, letting you know just how much he wants you, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. This seems to spur him on - so slowly it hurts, his hand makes its way from your hips to the front of your panties. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that you feel like you might come undone right away when he’s barely even touched you.

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses his palm against your clothed sex, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss. He continues such ministrations for a bit, unhurriedly rubbing two fingers up and down your core. If he’s going slow so as not to overwhelm you, it doesn't work - you can already feel a familiar knot twisting in your stomach. You can’t even kiss him back anymore, too caught up in the feeling of his hand touching you exactly where you need him, so he settles on kissing your face and your neck. 

You swear a little bit of your soul actually leaves your body when he slips his hand underneath your bikini. He trails two fingers up along your slit, watching your face intently in the hopes that your reaction will tell him when he’s found your sensitive spot. You’ve never felt anything other than your own fingers there, and the sensation is breathtaking, especially when he starts rubbing small circles right onto your clit.

“Let me know if it feels good, okay? I’ve never actually done this before,” he admits with a small chuckle. Your eyes shoot open and you grab onto his forearm, making him halt his motions as panic bubbles inside him. “What? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’ve never done this before?” you echo his words back at him like there’s no way they might be true.

He smiles shyly and looks away, an odd mix of shame and pride at your reaction. “No, I haven’t.”

“Wow,” you breathe out, disbelieving. “You seem to know exactly what you’re doing, this whole time, I thought you were like, a sex expert or something.” 

He laughs again and quickly resumes his previous actions, and any surprise you might have felt at his confession is thrown out the window when his fingers move against your clit again. “I promise you I’m making it up as I go.”

“You’re amazing,” you reply.

You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, Heeseung’s fingers going at the perfect speed and putting the exact right amount of your pressure against you like he’s done this his whole life. “Am I making you feel good?” he asks, a rhetorical question that he has to know the answer to considering your body’s reaction to him, but you still do him the favor of answering. 

“You are. Feels so, so good, Hee,” you sigh as his fingers leave your clit and start to tease at your entrance. Heeseung sighs, too, but more out of exasperation than out of pleasure.

“Let’s get rid of this, hm?” he offers, already pulling your swimming bottoms down your legs and discarding them next to your top. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, and before you know it, he’s pushed a finger inside you, and you let out the loudest moan you have all night at the feeling.

Heeseung chuckles as he shushes you gently. “Quiet, baby, okay? I know it feels good, but we don’t want to wake anyone up, now, do we?”

You shake your head fervently at his words, but in a twisted way, you care more about your current pleasure than about anyone catching you and Heeseung in the middle of the act. He curls his finger inside you, brushing right against that spot that has you seeing stars, and you let your body grow heavy, trusting him to hold you up when your legs stop working. As if one wasn’t enough, he adds a second finger, thrusting them inside you at an increasing pace that has your thighs shaking sooner than you’d like to admit.

“H-heeseung, oh my God,” you murmur, and that’s somehow enough for Heeseung to understand.

“Gonna cum, doll?”

You barely manage to answer him, your second high of the night approaching faster than you expect it to. Fingers still inside you, Heeseung brings his thumb to rub against your clit again, and five seconds later, you’re cumming all over his hands, body shaking against him and holding onto him throughout it all. You try to be as quiet as possible, and Heeseung presses his lips against yours to stifle any sound, but a few whimpers and broken moans still escape your lips.

When he’s slipped his fingers out of you, you hug him tightly, taking a few seconds to regain your breath as you come down from your high. “You did so well, baby,” Heeseung praises, lips moving against your temple before he presses a kiss there, and his words alone make you whine again. 

As soon as your sanity has somehow made its way back into your head, you remember your boyfriend’s pleasure and you press your hand against his bulge once more. He lets out a shaky breath as you start to rub your hand up and down his shaft over his swimming trunks. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

“I want to,” you reassure, dipping your fingers under the waistband of his trunks so he gets the message. When he takes them off, his fully hard dick slaps against his stomach, and even though you haven’t seen a great amount of dicks in your life, you recognize a big dick when you see one.

It’s always the nerdy, lanky ones.

As you take him in your hand, you look up at him with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it feels good, yeah?”

He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his eyes stay closed. “It already feels better than anything you could imagine, baby.”

“But I’m not doing anything,” you say, slightly confused.

“Still.”

You chuckle, and Heeseung almost joins in, but any laughter is ripped from his throat as your hand, formed in a fist loosely gripping him, makes its way down his shaft, then back up. It’s a clumsy motion, and he can tell you’re doing this for the first time, but it drives him crazy anyway. The sole fact that it’s you touching him is enough to turn him into a whimpering mess. 

He has to keep himself from moaning loudly and waking up the whole house when your palm brushes against his tip, but thankfully, you notice his reaction right away. As you continue jerking him off, you make sure to pay particular attention to his tip, sweeping your thumb over it every time your hand reaches it. Fascinated, you watch the rise and fall of Heeseung’s chest, the clench of his abs, and the way his beautiful pink lips part, and listen intently to any sound that might come out of them. He’s much less chatty than before, and you can’t help but ask for reassurance from him. “Does it feel good, Hee?”

The worried tone in your voice makes his eyes flicker open. “Of course, baby. Feels amazing,” he answers with a breathless chuckle. You beam at him, and the contrast between your innocent, happy expression and the motions of your hand actually makes him see double until he closes his eyes again.

You press yourself closer to him so you can leave kisses all over his neck, paying particular attention to his Adam’s apple that you know is sensitive. You’re so close that you can feel your own hand against your stomach as you fist it up and down his shaft, slowly picking up speed. You bite down against his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but definitely hard enough to garner a moan from him, and he can feel his orgasm is mere moments away by now.

“Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you whisper before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you so much, Hee,” you say, your voice almost a moan, and that’s what drives him over the edge. Knowing that you love him.

He spills his seed all over your hand and stomach with a choked moan and finds your lips to trap them in a feverish kiss. Just like before, the immediate reaction for the both of you is to laugh; coming down from your high and helping the other reach theirs make you feel like you’re on top of the world. You help rinse each other and you spend another five minutes shampooing the other’s hair to get the chlorine out of it, but after that, you’re out of the shower, realizing that your hands and feet have started pruning after what could have been anything between twenty minutes and two hours in the shower.

No matter how many times you tell him you can do it yourself, Heeseung insists on helping you dry off, making sure there’s not a droplet of water on your body before you head back to his room together, just as stealthily as you’d come earlier. You really hoped the sound of the shower was enough to cover any sound you made and that everyone was sleeping too deeply to realize how much time you’d spent in there anyway.

Heeseung quickly puts on clean underwear before getting into bed, then watches you with a lazy smile as you put your panties, shorts and tank top back on. “What are you staring at?” you grumble because even after everything, his intent stare makes you shy.

“You.”

You should have expected it, but it still makes your heart flutter. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed, not bothering to hide your grin as you get into bed with him, snuggling up to him and sighing in contentment at the feeling of his warmth against you. You’d daydreamed one too many times dreaming about what it must feel like falling asleep next to Heeseung, or even better, in his arms, and it was finally happening. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat while his fingers rake through your hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m spent,” you murmur against his skin. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep in two seconds.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, then presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, baby. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nuzzling yourself closer against him and letting sleep wash over your tired body.

--

You wish you could say that you wake up the next morning because of the sunlight pouring on your face or because of Heeseung peppering your face with kisses and awaking you, but really, it’s just your 8 a.m. alarm reminding you you have to go to the market with your mom. The sound jolts you awake, like someone just poured a bucket of cold water over you. You and Heeseung have somehow barely budged from the position you fell asleep in and you want nothing more than to stay there for a couple more hours, but a promise is a promise, so with a sigh, you start to sit up. 

When Heeseung feels your body shift away from his, his arm tightens its hold around your waist almost out of its own accord, pulling you back to him. “Just five more minutes,” he pleads, voice slightly whiny and still dripping with sleep that makes butterflies erupt all over your stomach. You give in immediately.

“Just five,” you repeat, and he hums in satisfaction.

But five turns into ten turns into twenty, and when your alarm rings again, it’s already thirty past eight, and you only have fifteen minutes to go home and get ready before your mom will want to leave. 

You sigh and, once again, start to pry your limbs away from Heeseung’s, but, once again, he stops you before you can get off the bed, hand coming to grab your wrist gently. You sit up and smile affectionately down at him, brushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes during the night. He blinks his eyes open but can only look at you for a few seconds before he shuts them again, trying to hide his flustered expression under his forearm, but you can still make out his smile and the growing blush on his cheeks.

“What?” you ask quietly in the silence of the room, chuckling at your boyfriend’s cuteness.

“I just remembered last night,” he says, letting his forearm fall away from his face so he can see your reaction.

Your smile grows and you continue to play with his hair as images of last night flood your mind, a sort of fluster enveloping your whole body and making you feel light. You bend over to press soft kisses to his forehead, to his cheek, and then to his lips before burying your face in the crook of his neck. His hand comes up naturally to your back, slipping under the thin fabric to graze his fingernails across your exposed skin.

“Last night was amazing, Hee. Thank you so much,” you whisper, trying not to get carried away by the feeling of his caresses.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and burying his nose there to inhale the scent of your hair. 

You count down from ten, and on zero, you sigh, pushing yourself from Heeseung for good this time. “Okay, I really have to go now.” He sits up with you, fixing you with a pout, but you won’t let him use his cuteness against you and trick you into staying. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll walk you downstairs.” When he sees you about to protest, he puts on his best smile, akin to one that an athlete would wear after winning first place. “I wanna kiss you goodbye.” 

You roll your eyes but your smile makes it obvious how delighted you are that he wants to be with you ‘til the very last second. You gather your stuff and head into the hallway. You know his parents are already at work, and even though Chaeyeong and Seeun usually sleep in until much later than now, you still want to make sure they’re asleep. You gesture at Heeseung to be quiet as you peer inside Seeun’s room quickly and quietly - if they wake up, you can just say you forgot something yesterday and came back to get it quickly, and if they don’t, you’re pretty safe to escape without getting caught.

When they don’t budge an inch, you close her door again and head down the stairs to the entrance where your shoes lay. You check your phone and realize with dread that your mom’s not going to be very happy with you, but you don’t have it in you to push Heeseung away when he insists on helping you into your shoes (they’re slip-ons) and when he wraps his arm around your middle, bringing you in for another kiss. You let yourself melt under his touch - it’s not like thirty seconds will make much of a difference now that you’re already late anyway.

“You do know that if we’re caught kissing here, we’re dead?” you breathe, pulling away slightly from Heeseung to speak. You’re still so close that you feel his lips move against yours as they curl up into a smirk.

“I know, but I wanna risk it.” And just like that, his lips are back on yours, and all other thoughts are blown away like feathers in the wind.

It’s almost dangerous how you can’t think of anything else when you’re this close to Heeseung. How his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin and his hair under your hands fill your mind up to the brim. It’s dangerous because it’s precisely in moments like these that you should think before you act, before you let yourself be consumed by him. And it’s moments like these that you look back on later and curse yourself for being so foolish.

“Heeseung? Y/N?”

Alarm fills your body as soon as you hear Seeun’s shaky voice calling out your names. She looks down at you from the stairwell, shock evident on her face and her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Your hands let go of Heeseung’s t-shirt and your arms fall limp at your sides, but other than that, you’re frozen in place. You watch as Seeun’s eyes dart between you and Heeseung and as she realizes that you’ve been hiding something big from her; that you even lied straight to her face. 

It’s only when a sob escapes her lips and she whips around, heading back upstairs to her room, that you snap out of it. You immediately go to follow her, but Heeseung calls out your name as his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look down at where your bodies touch, and your gazes lock just as the sound Seeun’s door slamming shut reverberates through the house.

“I have to talk to her,” you whisper as you wrench your wrist away from Heeseung’s hold. 

You walk away and leave him behind.

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[rekino2114]

can I request fluff prompt 10 with akane taira?

Taking care of a sick akane taira

Pairing:akane taira x gn reader

Non despair au

Akane coughed again as she finished putting the last shirt in the washing machine and turned it on.

She had been feeling less than stellar ever since she woke up, but a sickness was not going to stop her from performing her maid duties, it was her duty and her pleasure after all (especially doing things for you) so she wanted to keep doing them even while sick

She wiped some sweat from her forehead and covered her mouth as she coughed again

"All right I'll just leave this here......what do I have to do now?"

"Akane"

The ultimate maid quickly turned towards the voice that called her, ready to fulfill whatever requests it may have asked but was surprised to see you standing there with a disappointed look

"Y-y/n! What do you need?"

"For you to take a break and rest"

"Huh?"

"Ayame told me you were sick"

"I-i'm not sick just a bit- *cough* *cough*"

Akane continued coughing like this for a while. You immediately went over to help her and brought her a glass of water that she quickly drank

"T-thanks dear"

"It's nothing.....so what was that about not being sick?"

"OK maybe I am a bit sick but it's nothing to worry about, I can still-

"Let me stop you right there akane, you need to take a break, I know you love doing tasks and helping others but you need to take some time for yourself or you'll get worse"

"But are you sure everyone will be all right without my help?"

"Of course, you're a great help but the class is not gonna collapse because you took a day off, plus I won't forgive you if you get even more sick because of overworking"

The thought of you getting mad at her made akane shudder and cough again, although that was probably just her sickness

"A-alright, I suppose a break wouldn't hurt anyone"

"Great, let's go to your dorm"

"Ok should i-"

Suddenly akane was literally swept off her feet as you started carrying her bridal style causing her to blush heavily

"Y-y/n!"

"I can't let you walk when you're this sick now can I?"

"I can walk perfectly fine"

"Yeah.....but I just wanted to carry you"

"......t-then I guess I don't mind"

You walked towards akane's dorm with her in your arms and immediately put her to bed and removed her maid headpiece to check her temperature

"Yeah, you're definitely hot.....and not in the way you always are"

"Hehe, thanks"

"Stay there and relax and I'll get everything"

You went to grab a cold cloth and placed it on her forehead to help with the fever

"Are you feeling better?"

"A bit, the cold is lessening the heat"

"That's good, I'm going to make tea, how do you like yours?"

"O-oh you're gonna make tea for me?"

"Of course, it's to help you"

"Thanks so much! Milk and 1 sugar please"

"Coming right up"

You turned on the TV to akane's favorite show to keep her occupied while you made the tea. When you finished you put it on a tray that you placed on the nightstand near her bed

"Here's your tea love"

"Thanks sweetie"

She slowly got up, it was clear she was fatigued from all the work she did, and started drinking the tea

"This is so good"

"Really?"

"Yes, it's great and it's not just because you made it"

"Well what can I say? I learned from the best"

"Hehe"

"Seriously, I think you make tea for me so much that your skills just rubbed off on me"

"I'm glad, this is really great"

"Then tell me if you want more, I can make a second cup whenever you want me to"

"You're too kind"

"No, you deserve all of this, plus I know that If I was sick you'd do all of this for me....and probably way more knowing you"

"I can't say you're wrong about that"

When akane finished the tea you put the tray back on the counter and quickly made your way to her bed again

"OK so from everything it seems like a normal flu, so it's not too serious"

"That's good"

"So I have to go buy medicine, that's OK for you right?"

"Of course"

"Thanks, and then we can spend the entire evening together"

"Thanks so much, I really can't wait"

"Even if we can't cuddle"

As soon as you said that you saw akane look down a bit disappointed

".....we really can't?"

"Unfortunately not, I know you really love cuddling but I'll get sick if we do now"

"O-of course, I'm not trying to force you, your health is my priority as well....it's just a bit disappointing"

"Well don't worry, even if we can't cuddle I'll stay near you at all times ok?"

"....thanks really"

"Aaaaand when you get healthy you'll get all of the cuddles you missed out on"

"Really? I have to get healthy fast then"

You giggled and went to kiss your girlfriend on the cheek, a simple cheek kiss couldn't hurt that much after all

"I certainly hope you do, I'll go now, love you"

"I love you too darling"

[serawritesthings]

hi! do you take requests? if not you can discard this but i really love the way you write emotionally charged moments so i’d love your writing style on this prompt, it can be a one shot or more of a blurb whichever you like: so perhaps taking place post canon where arthur is found half dead on that cliff and reader is nursing him back to health, trying hard to stay strong and believe he’ll get better but arthur is just waiting to die any day now and wishing he hadn’t been found, until he hears reader in another room crying to herself having to see him so deathly ill like that and slowly losing hope. so he starts feeling more determined to at least try for her sake and maybe see her smile one last time. but in the end he does get better, not quite back to his full strength yet but better 🥹 hope i didn’t ramble too much, i absolutely love your work and the way you write and i can’t wait to see what you post next 🫶🏻

IN TREMBLING ARMS

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | While the world you had built around yourself seemed to crumble right before you, the last measures to sustain your happiness grew hard to take as the man you love fell deeper into his own despair. Tags | Angst-heavy, description of violence and wounds, fluff somewhere... :o Word Count | 11.4k A/N | Hiiii lovelies! ♡ I recently got this request that I really liked the sound of, which meant I obviously had to write it;) I hope what I wrote was in tune with what you had in mind! Enjoy! Also, thank you for the kind words♡

The pain of recalling an old life is surely something we’re all familiar with. Undoubtedly, it’s a brutal world we live in, one that sometimes takes too much and only gives small crumbles in return. You often found yourself crawling the ground to pick up these crumbs, laden with dust and dirt, just like your joyous memories are tainted in blood and pain–small glimpses of happiness amidst the hardship in day-to-day life, the tiny things that make living worth fighting for.

They were all thanks to Arthur. You’d been aware for quite a while that he didn’t think highly of himself, meaning he couldn’t possibly estimate how much his presence impacted your life. He couldn’t see that every good memory lately was in his favor–how he held your entire world in the bare palm of his hands. He could never understand, and you could tell he didn’t.

Every part of you was clinging to the last remains of a man who dropped the world’s weight off his shoulders, preparing to breathe the last breaths on this earth, alone and without you. It was so close now that you could almost taste it. You could tell by how his shoulders dropped heavily in resignation, the words that grew dull and lifeless, and his wit that never failed to bring a smile to your lips disappeared. 

Even so, you saw glimpses of the man you fell for, and if you looked closely, you could find those few crumbles that gave you hope, even though they were ridden with filth. He’d still pinch your waist lightly to jest when you were in a bad mood, always putting your comfort above his own, even though he needed it more.

The burden on his shoulders was heavier than ever when he returned from being out. He was no doubt following Dutch's careless orders that, with time, became more uncaring and, worst of all, unsafe. It bothered you heavily that there was no regret anymore as he bid his orders around like Arthur wasn’t hunching down in exhaust with every step, more often than not needing a seat as coughs so rough wrecked through him, never failing to make you cringe.

Of course, Arthur could take care of himself, never stopping short of explaining that to you. But now, times were different, and you could see his eyes grow slightly more hollow every time he returned to you, and his bloodshot eyes grew into normality.

So naturally, you never stopped short when voicing your concerns to Arthur, but he was so headstrong he refused to acknowledge the toll everything was taking on his body. Deep down, you wondered if he continued since he had come to terms with his fate, putting other’s safety before his own because he had simply stopped trying. 

He damned you for not listening to him, but his words held no real threat because he couldn't find it in himself to force you away against your will. So he let you stay, and through his violent coughs and wheezing, he always felt you rub his back soothingly, knowing that his time was running short. Because of this, he took every chance to bask in your gentle touches that felt more like home than anything else.

"Did you find out anything about John today?" Speaking softly, you run your fingers through his tousled hair, undoubtedly from wearing his rugged hat all day, observing his tired face as you were on his lap, Arthur sitting down as he came back to rest his aching legs.

"Mmm, we did." Thumbing at the fabric of the shirt you had stolen from him, he let the words rumble softly against you, breathing warmly against the chilled skin of your cheek.

"Abigail's real worried, you know, begged to come with us." Humming, you pondered over his words. Your dear friend has been over her head in worry as of late, the disappearance of John not doing the slightest to ease her anxiety.

"We'll get him back." You weren't sure if you were reassuring Arthur or yourself, but then again, there wasn't much you were sure of anymore. It seemed unlikely that anything you would say would comfort him, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try–every chance you got, you wanted to make him see reason.

Bringing you closer, he breathed heavily into your shoulder, throat whistling slightly from the strain, as his hands gripped your waist firmly, sighing in contentment when you hugged him back.

"How are you feeling?" you whispered, earlier taking notice of his eyes that had grown redder than usual and the slight blood stain he hastily wiped when you approached him, hoping you didn't get the time to spot it.

"The usual, I guess." Nodding slightly to appear positive before you, he let out a heavy sigh.

As the silence stretched, he kissed the top of your head lovingly after a while when you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, savoring the moment since you hadn’t seen him much these past days. 

"Tomorrow, me and Sadie thought about goin’-" You didn't give him a chance to finish, lifting your head from his shoulder as a frown appeared. God, you knew it was coming, but you had hoped he would still see reason and not do something stupid like that in his condition.

"Couldn't someone else go with Sadie? You not-" Catching yourself before you said the words you knew would get him riled up, you sighed slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about you, Arthur. About everything."

"Hey." Cradling you closer, he softly grabbed your chin between his calloused fingers, beckoning you to meet his warm gaze. "What did we talk about, hm? I'll be alright." 

You grabbed his cheek and stroked your thumbs against the scarred skin. He was so beautiful to you, just like he had always been, and you were sure he would scoff at you if you voiced your thoughts. But it was true. That face had seen you through the most challenging times of your life, and never had they been the reason for your tribulations and sadness. 

"Now you're just lying to me to make me feel better." A long silence followed as you stared at each other, both stubborn beyond means, until the corners of his mouth raised slightly, a low chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile against your will, trying to keep your previous frown on your face. 

His eyes, often weathered and wise, turned into soft pools of warmth and affection as they gazed at you. The world’s weight seemed to lift every time, even now, leaving only the tender vulnerability of a man deeply in love.

"Now, now," he spoke, words growing into his usual teasing tone as he grazed his hands along the fabric covering your sides, a wicked smirk growing on his lips. There’s an intoxicating allure to how his lips curve, never stopping short of making the butterflies in your stomach go haywire. "There's that smile I've been looking for." 

Slightly tickling the sides of your stomach, you gasped as you tried peeling his hands away when a giggle left you from the unexpected sensation. Damned be Arthur and his refusal to let you worry about him, always trying to lessen your pain when he was severely worse. 

"No, Arthur! Stop it!" Laughing merrily, he placed small kisses in the small crevice of your neck, relentlessly tickling your sides as you squirmed in his arms, an ugly laugh leaving you as you found it harder and harder to breathe amidst his torture. He snickered audibly at the sound leaving you, always finding humor in the strange quirks he loved so much.

The moment didn't last long, though, for the gut-wrenching coughs that left him amidst your banter made the cheerfulness of the moment quickly grow into a distant memory. Arthur would tell you he was okay and that all he needed was a few moments, just like he always did, but you both knew the disease was growing more severe as time passed.

Your precious memories grew less and less, though, and as time passed, there were hardly any crumbs left for you to pick up. The ugly paint of power, distrust, and hatred covered them. A hatred that grew so deep in every single being that surrounded you, and even in yourself. Hostility from one’s upbringing, misfortune, and wrong-doings. Bitterness for striving towards a goal that doesn’t have a finishing line, only a no-return sign at both the start and end. 

A selfish disdain, it is, and oh so human. How could you possibly find the end where everyone could make amends when they had no will to change? How could you save him when he didn’t want to be saved? His only interest now was to get everyone away from the gang that he could for the time being. It had been apparent for some time now that whatever this was, it was over.

Because of this, Arthur told you to leave some time ago. He had begged you on his hands and knees as the blood he coughed up dripped like rain down his paled, gray skin. A beautiful tragedy it was, one that would leave people in a theater with tears glistening down their cheeks as the sight before them clenched at their hearts. That wasn’t how you experienced it, though. It was more like someone cutting through your numb skin and laying your heart down on the table to unfold every crevice and nook to prod at every part that hurt so terribly with a knife. 

It made you wonder if hearts could bleed. You weren’t sure, but somehow you knew yours did as every strained cough from the man you love caused the tears that fell from your eyes to turn into a deep red, mingling with his on the ground. 

As he begged, you could only stare at the ghost of a man you once loved: the warm skin turning cold under the palm of your hands, calculating and mischievous eyes growing vulnerable and exposed, and strong arms that once held you tightly, weak and skinny. They gripped your skirt for dear life like the sullen fabric covered with filth kept his weary body alive. And god, how you tried, despite the pitying looks thrown your way and resistance from Arthur's side, you wanted to keep him alive.

You had hated no one in your meager, seemingly insignificant life, but you hated Arthur. You hated him passionately for trying to make you leave behind the only thing that made you feel even the slightest bit of happiness. The only reason you had stayed with these people for so long was him, only him, and now he asked you to leave so he could spend the rest of his short time either getting shot or dying from his disease?

“You go now, or I’ll drag you on that train myself and tie you to the seat.” Silence had followed his last attempt to push you away, thick with a wave of heated anger from both of you as the remnants of your love grew shrouded in an unwillingness to understand. You didn’t want to recognize his worry, for you knew it would be the end for you and him.

“I ain’t got much left to lose now, so I must do this. You have to understand. Go.” The bitterness in his words grew colder as he spoke; the conversation that started so filled with passion grew harsh.

“Don’t get much to lose?” Your meek voice was choked up with frustration as you felt your heart drop to the ground. “What about me?!” 

Everything hurt deeply, like he had set your whole body alight and then stomped on the remaining ashes. You had tried so hard to keep your head straight for Arthur through these challenging times, following every step he took loyally, never once questioning his decisions. Him telling you to leave had been the final straw. For him to expect you to give up everything you had done for him made you wonder how much you were worth to him.

“You can’t just tell me to leave!” Broken sobs left you when you spoke, hands trembling where you tried to rip his hands off your skirt, anything to lessen the tightening in your chest. When he didn’t ease his grip, your hands hit his chest as tears flowed down your warm cheeks. He closed his eyes from where he sat, the grip on your skirt turning his skin ghostly pale as you tried to create some distance, refusing to let you back away. 

In your head, he was supposed to want you with him until the last second, and you could not dare imagine it any other way. Because of this, it wounded you deeper than he could imagine.

The hands that never once had grown harsh with you only pulled you closer, letting you bat tirelessly at him while your eyes grew heavy with a furious sadness gnawing at your insides. The surrounding air had become thicker than it usually was in the confines of Beaver Hollow, so it left you gasping for air as the distress wound its way around your throat.

His eyes were as warm as they always seemed when looking at you, and you damned him for it. Even when Arthur broke your heart, he rendered you entirely at his mercy the way he kept this gaze reserved for only you–like he understood you.

“I hate you.” Growing weak, you sank to your knees and rested your weary head on his chest, letting him hold you as you trembled in his sickly arms. 

Soon after that, it seemed everything had reached a breaking point, and it couldn’t have been late enough. Arthur put you behind Sadie on the tall horse, making her promise to get you somewhere safe while he went and risked his life. Risk it for what you thought, kicking and screaming at him as he lifted you. Sadie was trying to comfort you, her hand on your waist as the worry for you and Arthur filled her mind.

"Let me down!" Tears were falling from your bloodshot eyes, filled with endless pools of agony and sorrow as the man before you avoided your gaze. "You're not sending me away!" You attempted to swing your leg over the saddle as you spoke through the hiccups that wrecked through you, fighting against Sadie’s hold.

"Please, sweetheart, come on." Broad arms caught your waist hastily, lifting you to put you back behind the worried woman. "Go with Sadie, now; she'll keep you safe." His voice grew distressed as you resisted, a deep worry for your safety that he always kept as a priority clouding his thoughts when you didn’t comply.

Not listening to him, you shimmered down the horse and threw your arms around Arthur's familiar embrace, burying your head in his shoulder as you breathed in his familiar scent. "Don't leave me here; please take me with you." 

You knew now that his death was inevitable, an end you had refused to acknowledge as possible ever since you first set your eyes on him. Despite this, the love you kept for him made everything pale in comparison, not wanting to spend the endless days of the remaining part of your life without him. If he would find his solace in death, so would you.

He didn't answer you, instead wounding his arms around your smaller frame as he hugged you tightly against him, trying to map out every part of you into his mind so that even in death, he could remember the feeling of you forever. 

"Don't go." You begged him without shame, holding onto him tightly as your tears darkened the material of his shirt. "I'm begging you."

You felt a pair of hands cover your cheeks, the blue orbs you knew so well staring reassuringly into yours, hiding the endless anguish taking cover behind its facade.

"I love you, sweetheart." His voice shook as he spoke, gazing with a terrible agony into yours. "I love you so much, you hear me?" Shaking your head slightly as he said, you could only weep as you realized your attempts to save him were useless. 

"I love you too, Arthur," you said through sobs. Arthur was stroking the tears from your eyes as he pulled you in one last time, face scrunching together from having to leave you as he kissed the top of your hair.  

So, in the end, he watched you leave as you stared after him in disbelief when Sadie set off, your body growing numb as he disappeared between the forest trees, hugging the woman as sobs wrecked through you.

"God." Crouching down, he panted as coughs broke through the silence surrounding him after you departed. But it didn’t seem to be the only thing rendering him on his knee as the dirty ground prodded at his knees, the all-to-consuming thought of never seeing you again clamping at his heart something so fierce he thought he might heave.

He had never been a stranger to heartache, having lived a life full of gut-wrenching memories and stories that were not for the faint-heartedly. But this, this was something entirely else. All these years of fighting, never knowing where he would rest his head the next night, and for what? So he could be free? He had been angry, so very angry at the world. 

It all felt meaningless now, the constant blood on his hands, the pain he had brought others that might as well have been him had he chosen another path, the choice to drag you with him to the gates of hell instead of taking your hand and running off so he could keep you forever. 

And in the end, as he lay there on the mountain, bleak eyes staring at the rising sun, he could feel an unfamiliar peace crawl up his feet, relaxing the very troubled muscles that had never rested up to his chest where a heavy weight had been present his whole life. In it, the heaviness had torn a big hole in his chest that pulled every good thing that had found him in his life into the prolonged darkness. 

 But somehow, a relief was spreading in his mind as he figured peace was closer than he thought, slowly and surely beginning to unfold in front of him. Darkness spread around him as the last lights reached his eyes before the tired lids grew shut, the now ever-so-strong memory of you branded into his mind.

–

You were no stranger to the rain. As a child, you reveled in the droplets that fell from the sky when the clouds formed. It was so simple, yet a memory so strong that it stuck with you throughout your life. Now, though, the rain that clung to your clothes only made the numbness grow worse, unable to feel your fingers as you rode on the muddy path that stretched before you, slippery and treacherous. It was no longer comforting, raking through your body like ice, chilling you from tip to toe.

Although not sure of your actions, there wasn't a single regret in your body for leaving both Sadie and Abigail when they found John, taking the first chance to head back the way you came from, the glimmer of hope that you would discover Arthur alive pushing you on, even though it dimmed with time. 

When John returned, he could only look at you sadly while shaking his head, the look in his eyes enough for you to understand that Arthur hadn’t come with him. But you knew, of course you did, that he wasn’t coming back to you; his words and your knowledge of his ways are telling enough.

You had calmed down now, thinking more logically, but you preferred how you felt before instead of the hole beginning to form in your chest. It consumed you, growing bleaker and bleaker with time, making you wonder if you would ever find Arthur.

You found him eventually, but the torment of seeing him lying lifeless as the warm, lingering evening sun glazed over his skin beat at your bruised heart. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looked so small, like his body was cowering against the ground, seeking shelter from the cold breeze and a world that had grown so cruel, so malicious. 

If the anguish following his departure was anything to go by, the sheer pain that shot through you after your bewildered moment of silence could only be likened to a thousand times worse. What you had feared the most seemed to be reality now, and it couldn’t have hurt any less.

Your aching feet, sore from climbing the far way up the mountain, ran the muddy path up to him as your hands enclosed his cold cheeks–swollen and purple with bruises as dried blood covered the majority of his skin. 

“No, no, no!” You mouthed the words since you couldn’t get a single sound to leave you, a force so firmly clamping at your throat. You grabbed his clothes, shaking him as if it would make a difference and show a sign of life. It didn’t work, so you could only wrap your trembling arms around his neck, wailing out his name while begging the heavens above to bring him back to you, for the pain was too much to bear.

How would you continue life without him? The thought was too heavy to consider, your distressed mind refusing to believe he was gone. He’d always rise back up the moment something brought him down, so strong mentally and physically that you sometimes wondered how he was real. Why couldn’t he do that now and spare you all this hurt?

“Do you remember when we first met, how you always told me we would run away, just you and me?" Grabbing his hand, you placed small, lingering kisses on the battered knuckles, intertwining his fingers with yours as your voice trembled fiercely. 

There had been a magnetic pull in the way his gaze had lingered on you when he spoke of his deepest wishes as if every word was a silent vow etched into the very fabric of your relationship. It’s something you both said of often when everything grew heavy, like an escape from reality to what things could be.

“How can we do that now if you’re going to leave me?” Sobs wrecked through you, gazing at his closed eyes while you internally begged for them to open. “Why are you leaving me?!”

Resting your head on his chest, you breathed in the scent solely your Arthur as he flooded your senses. Your guttural cries of anguish filled the air until your voice broke, eyes growing heavy with strain while you could only lay there with him, imagining he was alive under you.

Your head had grown empty after that, laying upon the body you had so many times before. You remembered the moments of complete and utter peace when he held you in the confines of his tent, warm hands always managing to find sanction around your waist no matter how exhausted he was.

The thought made you smile, remembering how his heartbeat would pick up as you intertwined your fingers. He was in many ways stoic, rarely sharing how you affected him, but you knew. In secret, of course, you knew, and you would kill to feel that again.

But when he fell asleep underneath you, the beating pattern would cease and instead follow a slower thud, never failing to bring you to sleep. Just like it beat now, you felt the lids of your eyes that were still wet with tears grow heavy under the comforting thudding of his heart, lulling you closer and closer to sleep.

Your eyes shot open so fast that you almost got a whiplash, raising your knees in disbelief. Arthur was lying still even now, body still beaten and bruised, but as you put your fingers on his pulse, you could feel it.

There it was, the slight thud of a pulse buried deep between the layers of skin and flesh, keeping Arthur alive despite the turmoil that had rendered his body almost inert. Grabbing the sides of his face, you shook it slightly, hope now filling your mind even though he didn’t move a single muscle. 

God, he was alive, even though barely. The air got lodged in your throat as you felt puzzled, having been dead set on having to bury a corpse. 

“Arthur, can you hear me?” Not a single indication left him as you spoke, wiping the hair covering his eyes so you could get a better look at him. A slight fluttering of his eyelashes could be seen as your voice broke through the stillness of the mountain. The more you grabbed his body in disbelief, the more movements you saw from him: fingers twitching slightly, small intakes of breath, and brows furrowing in small motions. 

Raising on your feet, you sat down with his head in your lap, stroking his cheeks gently before you started tapping at them briskly, anything to wake him up. It didn’t work, so you started calling for him loudly, hoping it would reach him wherever he was. 

“God dammit, Arthur, wake up!” 

That did it. Unfocused eyes began to open up from underneath you, though Arthur found it difficult because of the swelling around the eyes. Seeing him so beaten up hurt you heavily, but you put all your energy into making him regain consciousness, forcing the turmoil far away from your mind. 

“Hey, look at me. Can you see me?” The slightest motion of a nod could be seen, and you thanked whoever above that he responded to you.

Although through blurry eyes, he could see a slight indication of you hovering above him, wondering if he somehow had ended up in heaven to be able to gaze at you one last time. But maybe it was hell after all, the torturing fire replaced with you, barely in reach where he couldn’t touch you, which was the worst kind of torture he could conjure up.

You could see his fingers flex slightly, in your mind trying to show signs that he heard you, but in his stretching so he could reach out to you to touch the softness of your skin with his sinful hands.

“I need your help, Arthur. I can’t carry you alone, so you need to try, okay?” To be quite honest with yourself, you had no idea what you were doing, never mind if it was even possible to get him to move to the state he was in. But you had to try, at least. You weren’t leaving him here to fend for himself in search of help, pondering if those few moments could lead to his death. It was the only way.

“I told you to leave.” Amidst his close-to-death confusion, Arthur had grown more conscious, managing to speak as his eyes closed again. He realized you weren’t conjured up; instead, you were as real as could be as you prodded at his exhausted limbs. 

You ignored his hurtful words, putting your arms under his head so you could assist in getting him to raise. He wasn’t light, that was for sure, but still, you tried until he was sitting up, although his head was hanging low and his back was arched forward in exhaustion.

“Come on, Arthur, I need you to help me.” Amidst your tries to keep him upright, you felt the all too familiar flood of tears threatening to flood from your eyes when the challenge felt impossible. You never felt so weak as you did right now, the possibility of helping him stay alive fading against the man's heaviness and your weary muscles. 

“Honey, go. You-” Arthur slurred out as he almost dropped. “You shouldn’t be here.” Yelling in frustration as he once again fell towards the muddy ground, you put your hand over your face as the dam of tears broke.

“I’m not leaving you here to die, Arthur!” Taking a deep breath, you bent down again to try once more. His eyes were barely open now, staring at you in pain. “Please, just try.”

A loud grunt left him as he raised again, hands gripping the soil underneath him, damning your stubbornness. Although weak, you managed to get him to stand, leaning most of his weight on you. It was hard, no doubt, to feel his body supporting your smaller one, but it worked, for now. The breaths leaving him were awful, and he gasped out loud as you stepped forward slowly. 

“This ain’t gonna work, honey,” Arthur mumbled, not a single hope left in his body to survive the long way to safety.

“Yes, it is.” You refused to listen to him, mind set straight on getting him to the horse. 

Far back in your mind, you remembered a place Arthur used to take you, always going on about a man he used to hunt with until your ears bled. He had told you of its location when the poor man had died, bringing you there once. That should be fine, you thought. Hopefully, it was empty. If not, you have another problem on your hands. 

The way back to the mare was challenging, with both of you falling countless times as the ground underneath you was uneven and riddled with stones. But your stubbornness wasn’t in vain because, after some time, you saw the familiar black coat of the horse appearing in front of you like an angel.

Not a single sound left him, eyes now almost closed as coughs left him then and again, both body and mind tired. He was taller than you, so he got on the horse much faster than you initially thought possible. Soon after, you swung your legs over the saddle in front of him, letting him lean his weight on you as you circled his arms around your waist so he wouldn’t fall off. 

“Stay awake, Arthur.” Glancing back when you didn’t get an answer, you only met a tuft of hair as his head fell on your shoulder. “Come on, I can’t do this without your help.” 

The road to the house you barely remembered was long, and you couldn’t ride too fast, worried about the grip on you that grew less by the minute. Thankfully, he had managed to stay awake the whole ride, but you felt his breathing grow more unstable and shallow. 

The weather on that mountain had been forgiving, like time and space had stopped moving in sorrow, the warm sun covering you in its blanket. Now, though, the howling wind surrounding you made your surroundings bitterly cold, arms held in front of you to see where you were going.

Many times, you tried to speak to make sure he was still with you, but your voice grew muted against the forceful wind, so you gave up, hoping his weight on you meant he held some sort of consciousness.

As time passed and darkness began to spread around you, a small house by a lake appeared behind many trees and foliage. It was different from what you remembered, but still, somehow the same, staring back at you like some sort of angel, the promise of comfort egging you forward.

Not a word was exchanged as you helped him down the horse, a solemn resignation making him follow your will without a complaint, or maybe he was too tired to complain; you weren’t sure.

Stumbling through the doorway, it felt just as cold as outside, shivers shooting through you. It felt strange just barging into a dead man's home, but you deemed your selfishness just, Arthur’s health at the forefront of your mind. Empty of life, it was, and it made you relax slightly, not having to worry about someone else taking refuge here.

Soon, you could rest your heavy arms; you thought as the bed in the right corner of the house appeared before you like a halo. With the door closing behind you with a slam, you waste no time pulling Arthur with you in clumsy steps, letting him lay down on the soft mattress with a huff, dust flying around you as the bed creaked audibly under his weight. 

Glancing at Arthur, his face was still contorted in pain as it had been since you found him. You carefully lifted his legs on the bed, removing the filthy, wet shoes from his feet and throwing them to the floor. Leaning over him, you touched his freezing cheek, finding him already passed out.

Hastily, you removed the wet clothes from his shivering body, laying them by the foot of the bed as you hurried to drape the sheets as well as some pelts you found over him to warm him up. Looking around, you tried to get your hands on some firewood to warm up the house, thankfully finding some not too long after your search. Your arms complained, though, from the weight already spent from the strenuous day–blisters on your fingers only worsen it. 

The room soon filled itself with an orange glow, bouncing in heavy shadow on the walls, and your whole body huddled close to the fire as you warmed your hands for a moment, not realizing amidst your frenzy that you, also, were almost freezing to death in the chilly night.

It only lasted for a moment, though, the reminder of Arthur making you rise on your tired feet, rummaging through the cupboards and various wardrobes to find some supplies. Luckily, it appeared that the veteran kept quite the supplies on him, which you thanked him for under your breath. Some bandages you were sure you could still use were pushed into your arms, a few tonics that could lessen the pain, and, best of all, coughing medicine. 

Walking back on the creaking floor, you dragged a side table closer to the bed and placed what you had found in your search, running outside quickly to get the water pouch hanging off the mare. 

It wasn’t easy tending to Arthur; the number of hits he had taken was noticeable. Some kicks to his ribs, it seemed, amidst the various other bruises that loitered his skin. Stopping in your tracks, you wondered who could have done this. You hadn’t thought about it until now; your worry for his safety has been on your mind this entire time.

Micha.

The sudden thought of him sullied your mood even further, making you realize that no Pinkerton would leave him at the brink of death like that. Undoubtedly, they would have finished him off or taken him with them, another way to get to Dutch, for sure. 

Cringing deeply at every purple bruise you dragged your finger over, hatred for the man laying his hand on Arthur grew. It was more fierce now than ever, the persistent name-calling and teasing he put him through when the disease started taking its toll not nearly as severe as this. You knew Micha was capable of this; deep down, you had known.

And where was everyone else, you wondered. Thinking logically, everyone had most likely run away the second things went downhill, but Dutch and Charles? Javier? Had they lost Arthur as they escaped from Beaver Hollow? And why did John not return with him if he had been alive?

The questions were running wild in your mind, but you had to put your questions aside for now; there was enough time later to wallow in contempt and confusion. Instead, you focused on cleaning the rest of Arthur’s bloodied face and bandaging the more gruesome gashes on his body. You knew getting him better wouldn’t be easy, but you weren’t ready to give up.

Sighing audibly, you put your head on your knees when you had done all you could and dragged the sheets over his shivering form. Gods, you were tired. It felt like your whole body had been running on spurts of adrenaline until now, and now that you got the chance to sit down, it rushed over you like a tidal wave. The whole ordeal, by any means, had felt like a fever dream.

No, more like a nightmare, you concluded. It was strange, and everything had happened hastily like the time had been fast-forwarded. Quite the difference from now, as the only thing audible was you and Arthur’s breathing and the slosh as the water hit the bridge just outside, time seeming to stand still in the tiny house by the lake.

It felt nice, though, you concluded as your eyes grew heavy. It was like the air around here cleared your sullied head slightly from all the months of stress and worry–gaining some distance even though it wasn’t by much. You could see why the man who had lived here chose to stay, finding the landscape calming yourself. 

Often, Arthur would tell you about the man. Hamish, you believed his name was. A veteran, he said as he stroked your hair, telling you about the days he spent with him, softly lulling you to sleep. You had always found their relationship endearing but were only met with a scoff from Arthur every time you voiced your thoughts about their camaraderie. The idea made you smile.

You turned your gaze toward him, gazing thoughtfully. The swelling on his face was severe but not yet rendering him unrecognizable. You admired him for a moment, the rugged masterpiece under the purple bruises that the harsh strokes of life had always weathered. Yet he had always seemed to have been carved with a pen so beautiful everything it created couldn’t be anything less. Every scar, like poetic verses, had always added to his allure.

In many moments, Arthur’s gaze had been a haven for you, a refuge where you could peer into his most profound thoughts when he kept himself away from you. It was a place where you could find solace amidst all the chaos, a silent dialogue–a gaze that showed what he never said. But now they were closed, and the thought left you sadder than anything.

–

You had tended to Arthur many times before, and even though the scrapes had been nasty, this was something entirely else. His disease only worsened the state of his injuries, taking you ten steps back every time you thought you could see a flicker of consciousness in the following days.

Yet, he remained motionless on the bed for days on forward, awful coughing episodes making him shoot straight up from the mattress. Succumbing to the relentless coughing, it echoed in the room with harsh, hacking sounds. Each one seems to wrack his body, the force evident in how his shoulders tense and his grip tightens on whatever’s within reach, the strain etched on Arthur’s face, lines deepening with each cough. 

Your hands reach his back to reassuringly rub the warm skin, feeling helpless. Unable to stand his pain any longer, you retrieve the cough medicine you put on the side table, the label on the glass bottle promising relief. 

Too out of it to register what you were doing, he only lays there as you pour the liquid down his throat, and as soon as his sore throat swallows the last drops, his eyes flicker close, body relaxing in resignation on the bed.

“You would hate me if you were awake right now.” A breathless laugh left you, hand stroking the hair away from his face as you pondered how long he would stay like this. It seemed that’s what filled your days and nights now, constant worry as you sat plastered by the side of the bed, holding his hand tight as you prayed for whoever would listen to give him back to you. 

Rarely did you take the time to open the various cans loitering the cabins, filled with canned food and other things that would fill your stomach well? Instead, you grew nauseous at the thought of it. You took the chance to spoon Arthur some soup, though, the small moments between sleep and wakefulness, hoping it was enough to give him some energy.

Some nights, when the pain was too much to bear, you would wound yourself around Arthur like a snake, being mindful of his injuries as you rested your head on his chest. You would listen to the slow thumping of his heart that had grown steady, slowly falling into a deep sleep, letting your heart rest, if even for a moment.

–

You were unsure how much time had passed in that house, endless days bleeding into each other. Most time was spent looking after Arthur, and when you weren’t, you were perched on the wooden steps of the house, gazing into the flickering water of the lake. Your bleak eyes always stared heedlessly at the scenery before you, and although beautiful, it did nothing to lighten the intricate knot growing in your chest.

Despite trying to keep your head straight, doubts always come to mind whenever you don’t have your hands full. What if you had been wrong all this time, and Arthur wouldn’t get better? The possibility was big, but you couldn’t imagine doing it any other way as you thought more of it. But all this chaos and energy you put into keeping the very soul of him alive, what if it wasn’t enough? What could you do that would be enough?

You walked down the porch steps with light steps, bending down on the bridge to wash your face, hoping it would ease your mind. While it didn’t, seeing your drained face and bleak eyes greying your features worsened it. You could only sigh as the sight of your exhaust reflected in the water.

“God.” You said, sitting back on your heels as you stared into the distance, horrified. No wonder you hadn’t taken the moment to care for yourself in the drastic days of apprehension, having been too wrapped up in the horrifying complications. With closed eyes, you rinsed your face, refusing to give yourself another lookover as you walked back towards the house.

The sight that you saw when entering through the door made your heart rise your throat. Blue eyes you adored so much were staring back at you, and although laden with fatigue, they were halfway open, gazing at you indescribably.

Quietness followed your surprise, and after a moment of contemplation, Arthur mumbled out under his breath. “Why'd you come back?” 

His question hung heavy in the air; the only answer you could provide him was a face of bewilderment, mouth dry like cotton. 

“I can’t-” As Arthur closed his eyes, a sluggish arm came to rest over his eyes. “-can’t save you now.”

You motioned to speak, but the words were lodged somewhere deep down where you couldn’t bring it up. Instead, you stepped closer to Arthur with small steps, like he wasn’t real. He couldn’t be; you hadn’t been given that hope for the longest time. But he was breathing before you now, moving. 

You were so quiet at this moment you even surprised yourself, but as you crawled your way beside Arthur and draped your arms around his neck as you had done so many times before, you found that the bridge holding your tears at bay had blocked the words so they couldn’t escape you. But the bridge overflowed, tears now running freely down your cheeks as the feeling of his arms finally circled your waist. 

He held you in that cranky, old bed for a long while, drowsy, sunken-in eyes closing in content regardless of his earlier concern, basking in the warmth your body provided his shivery one as his hands memorized you. The sunlight mirrored its way on your skin, the feeling now warm and tender, unlike the cold and empty touch it grazed with you before.

Arthur’s raspy voice pulled you closer in his embrace as he consoled you, tears wetting the skin on his neck as you gripped the strands of his hair tightly in your grasp.

“Hush, now.” He murmured out, voice so comforting it only increased your sobs.

"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe." Whimpering into his shoulder, you gasped for air between your snivels, breathing erratic that grew somewhat more stable as he ran his broad hand over the small of your back, hushing soothingly.

Things seemed to ease up from that day onward, and now that Arthur grew more conscious, you didn’t feel the draft of loneliness waft through you anymore. Still, he wasn’t up on his feet yet, heavily bedridden as the slightest movement could set off his coughing.

While his recovery gladened you something immensely, you could tell it put a heavy strain on his confidence; not used to being so weak and counterproductive. You could see how his eyes faltered when you tended to his wounds and how he avoided your gaze as you helped him eat, a deep confliction noticeable.

In these moments, he grew quieter than he usually was now. It was like he was waiting for something–something that was just out of his reach, putting a distance between you that wounded you deeply. You had to tell yourself many times to give him some time, to provide him with some peace of mind as he recovered from the trauma to both his body and soul.

So, you took the struggles daily, and as you stayed with him, you could see a glimmer of the Arthur you knew–the stubbornness, the humor, the fierce loyalty. But they are fleeting moments, overshadowed by the weight of his conviction that he is destined for a different path that doesn’t intertwine with the life you could offer.

“You know,” He told you one night, surprising you as you were plastered on the chair beside his bed, stroking the back of his hand while deep in thought. “I always felt at peace out here, like the air is different somehow.” He only got a hum as your eyes were locked on his fingers, intertwined with your smaller ones. 

“It’s something I always imagined for us.” He murmured, staring at the ceiling as he searched for the words to voice his thoughts rightly. “Well, when times grew hard, I thought about it quite a lot.” 

After some time, a small smile graced the corners of your lips, never having heard him be so open with you. You often voiced your wishes to run away together, towards something more fulfilling, something that would ultimately be safe. An ordinary life with Arthur was more than you could ever ask for, always opting to tell him about it late at night when he was too tired to react fully to your words.

It wasn’t possible; you both knew it, so it was only decided as wishful thinking. Also, Arthur always shot the idea down when you steered the conversation that way. He was too loyal to Dutch, finding your words unthinkable, constantly shaking them off as nonsense. Now, if it was because he felt that way or finding the thought hurting too much, you didn’t know. 

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You spoke quietly, meeting his warm gaze as he stared at you, lifting your hand to his chest, where he placed it against his heart. 

“Mmh. Well, every time I passed here, I thought about you.” He smiled slightly at you, continuing as a rumbling chuckle left him mid-sentence. “Hamish asked about you quite a lot, found you fascinating, he said.”

“Me?” You raised your eyebrows, half-endearingly for the thought that Arthur talked about you and half-suprised that you made an impression on the man. “How come?”

“He wondered why a woman like you stayed with someone like me. Said you were doin’ charity work or somethin’ like that.” You rolled your eyes slightly in jest, bringing his hand to your lips as you placed a nimble kiss on the coarse fingers.

“Well, I happen to like doing charity work,” you mumbled against the skin, breath warming the cold tip of his fingers, finding Arthur gazing at you indescribably.

But some days, he let the words that he pondered about day in and day out be heard, and those moments were the hardest for you.

“I don’t understand you.” He would mumble as his head finally began to clear. You told him that John, Abigail, and Jack had likely gone to safety. It made his mouth’s corners chirp slightly, content they got on alright. But as matters turned to you, he suddenly became cold, eyes crinkling when his eyebrows screwed together.

“You get the chance to go and live your life to the fullest, yet you go back to try and save a man that already died a long time ago.” It appeared impossible for him to wrap his head around the thought, looking at you as if you were a scientific experiment. 

“You’re not dying.” 

“YES, I AM!” You gasped slightly as his voice grew loud suddenly, yelling out the words as his hand pointed at you, eyes wide open where he lay glued to the bed. 

“And all I want before I die is to see you safe, and you can’t even give me that!” 

He had never yelled at you like this if he had even yelled at you at all. Arthur had always tended to take the image of the rugged, unforgiving brute, but never had he been that way with you. It was always tender touches, calculating glances, and a sense of utter contentment when you were around–acting like you would break if he didn’t keep calm and collected.

It differed from now, the usually calm sea of his eyes now a stormy whirlpool, harshness lining the edges, and it was pointed towards you. You pulled your hands against your chest nervously, wishing to shrink into the ground to avoid his, to you, unjust fury.

“Stop.” Your voice grew quiet as the air in the room seemed to lessen, eyes shooting towards the ground. 

Groaning, Arthur raised his arms, gasping when he had to support his weight on it. Stepping forward to help him, you were only faced with his palm begging you to stay away. 

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you,” you reply gently. “Besides, I had to know what happened to you.” 

“Stubborn woman, didn’t I tell you to go? It ain’t safe anymore.” You backed away, not wanting to listen.

“Now I don’t know where the hell Dutch is, where Micha is, which means this is far from over. That’s why I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t stay!” He tried to reason with you, make you realize that your part in this was over.

He felt conflicted. Whenever he thought of you, he struggled between being selfish and thinking of what was best for you and what he needed to do to keep you alive through all of this. On one side, he longed for every part of you to remain with him, but on the other side, he couldn’t stand you being hurt on his behalf more than you had already been. 

He knew he crushed you in the process, it was undeniable, the cries that left you when placed behind Sadie before telling enough–but it had to be done, despite how much he despised himself for putting you through this. You were always so calm and level-headed that he couldn’t be anything more than heartbroken when you called after him that day, the distress so unlike you.

Arthur didn’t like it, which fueled him to push you away even further when he realized you didn’t see reason, deciding that the only plan left was to show you what kind of man he was, or rather, what kind of a man he was to everyone else. 

“This isn’t you talking, Arthur.” 

“What do you mean it ain’t me talkin’?” His face grew red with strain as he spoke, alerting you as you bent down to meet his gaze, placing your hands on either side of his cheek. He scrunched his eyes together, heart pleading to give into you as your ever–so-gentle hands closed around him.

“You're sick, Arthur, and you’ve been beaten to a pulp. Now, I don’t know what transpired on that mountain, and I’m not sure finding out would do me any good, but I thought-'' Stopping in your tracks, you closed your eyes. “I thought you had died, Arthur. I, I cried for you, thinking I would never see you alive again.” 

“I ain’t less than a ghost now, darlin’; you should have left when you had the chance.” He stared tiredly into your eyes and then turned away from you. “You have to accept that. It’d gone much easier if you left me on that mountain.” His heart beat as he voiced the reality of his thoughts, knowing it would hurt you, but the statement was also true.

Silence followed for a long time after that, the turmoil inside you breaking, seeping like blood from the cracks of your heart as you were left staring at the side of his face. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Arthur, but it has never felt like I’ve known you entirely.” While he gazed at you, the fury still raced deep in the blue orbs, coloring them darker with pain. 

“You have a barricade around your heart that I can never breach. And I tried; believe me, I did. For the longest time, I tried to be there for you, be something for you to come home to, to ease your mind that always was off somewhere else, somewhere I could never follow!” Your tone that started quietly grew loud as you spoke, heart racing inside your chest as the words fell like liquid out of your mouth.

“I can’t-” Your voice hitched, angry tears falling unwillingly from your eyes. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in!”

“I don’t need your help!” You could see Arthur close off from you even more, pushing you away as the harshness of his voice cut you like a razor. “I never had!” His voice broke as he yelled, panting as he sat on the bed, hunching forward as frustration rose.

“Arthur!” You felt anger grow in your chest, finding him unbelievable as you swatted at his chest lightly, standing up to put some distance between you, seeing him trailing after you. “I’m done with you telling me to go when all I live for is you!” Fiery and consuming anger flared within you, setting your cheeks ablaze as you spun around to face him.

“Well, I’m over you being so stubborn all the time! Never listen to me when I only want to see you off safe, caring for me like it’s a glimpse of hope that I’ll survive!” A scoff of disbelief left you, staring at him as you almost laughed in shock.

“Me!? Stubborn!?” Your palm found your forehead, voice laced with anger-filled frustration. “That is very rich coming from Mister. I never listen to anyone other than myself!” You paused before you yelled. “Ever!”

“Because I know what’s best, alright!? And I know that you should be far, far away from me!” A fire started to show in his voice, but it also crept into your bones, warmth spreading on your cheeks. 

“Oh, and what?! Find some boring, middle-aged asshole who’ll tie me to the kitchen and make me have tea-party with some lifeless, dreary, pompous, old ladies?!” Your breathing was hectic as the words spilled out in a heated rush.

“Yes, that’s what I want, ‘cause that would mean you would be safe!” He stalked closer, cornering you at the door.

“I’d rather die, Arthur,” you said. “I’d rather die with you than face the long, bleak years of this world alone! You backed away, feeling suffocated when he didn’t give you any space to breathe.

“The only place I feel safe is with you, Arthur!” Your voice broke slightly, gripping his shirt to shake some sense into him. “It’s with you I’ve always felt at home!” Gripping his stubbled cheeks in your palms tightly, you pleaded with him as he gazed into your eyes. “I’m not leaving you; get that through your thick, dumb skull!”

“Stop being so goddamn unselfish and think about yourself for once!” He met your gaze, dark as he stared at you from underneath his brows. “Get out the hell out, leave!” 

You only stared at him, cold shivers like freezing water wrecking through you, backing towards the door as his shadow grew more prominent, stepping unbalanced on his feet towards you. Grabbing your shoulders in his broad hands, he stepped so close that all you could see were his eyes blaring into yours.

“Come on!” He yelled, shaking your body as if to shake some sense into your stubborn mind. “GO!”

Choking on your tears in distress, you were left gasping for air as you tried to breathe, feeling his body falter above yours. The coughs that now raked through him made you sink on the floor with him, and as the blood splattered on your dress, covering your chest in a deep red that contrasted the ivory fabric, you sat on the dirty floor, a man devoid of the will to live anymore laying in your trembling arms. 

After that, you only felt his lips that sought yours, entangling your limbs together like snakes in a snake pit–not a gentle surrender but a clash of hunger, a collision of lips borne from ages of holding back the reality.

Bloodied lips against bloodied lips met in a fierce urgency after taking a quick breath, fueled by the unspoken desires and the acknowledgment that, despite your disagreements, the love you kept for one another was deeply engrained in both of you, hearts unable to stand the hate you felt.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping as if seeking reassurance as the world blurred. Anger melted into a raw vulnerability, frustration giving way to the unspoken plea, and the desperation grew more considerable than it ever had–and as you both pulled away, breaths heavy and gazed locked, the air crackled around you as he instead hoisted you up in his arms so you could fall into each other’s embrace yet again.

Your tears now rubbed their way down Arthur’s cheeks, your breath hitching as sobs still found their way through you. His broad hands pulled you tighter against him, the inner fight that took place in his mind showing as he wanted to push you away, only to draw you closer to his dying limbs.

“You know I ain’t a good man, honey. That ain’t going to change, ever.” His gaze was gravely and serious as he stared into your eyes, an uncanny vulnerability etching them deep down. “This life lives within me; I can’t escape it. I can’t escape the sins that I carry. I’ve done horrible things, things you couldn’t even dream of.” Sighing, he closed his eyes. “You know that.”

Your eyes softened as you saw the wrinkles in his face release, finally hearing something real coming from him. “You’re not your sins, Arthur. And even if you were, I’d carry them with you, lighten the burden.” Stroking his cheek with the tips of your fingers, he opened his forever lonely eyes, now staring into yours.

“God, I tried, honey. I tried to get you to leave, talkin’ to you in ways I’ve promised myself I never would–everything to get you to leave.” He pushed your head against his shoulder, resting his head on yours in defeat. “It was harder than I thought, see you cryin’ like that.” Sighing heavily, he continued. “But somehow, you always stay.”

“I’m not leaving.” You mumbled against his skin.

“There’s no mistaking that.” He chuckled, stroking your back. “Everything I do is to keep you safe; you’re so stubborn not to realize that.”

“I’m safe when I’m with you, Arthur.” He didn’t answer you for a while, holding you comfortingly. He felt the strings that held his will up loosen, giving up on trying to push you away, the sight of you sobbing tugging at his heart.

“I feel like all I do is make you cry lately.” Staring at your smaller arms that hugged him, the doubt that he still wasn’t good enough for you clouding his mind. 

“You make me cry when you push me away,” you admitted, your voice steadier now. “It hurts, Arthur.” He sighed, fingers still entangled in your hair, twisting your hair strands with his fingers.

“I know, honey,” he murmured, a concession to the unspoken ache.

“Then stop.” He lifted your head to make you look at him through wet eyes.

“Stop hurting me; I can’t handle it anymore.” He felt like you had shot him right in his chest as you begged him, staring through vulnerable eyes he rarely saw. He had done countless horrible acts in his life, but this was indeed to be pivoted as the worst, never having felt the pang of agony quite so brutal.

He couldn’t tell how long he would live now, down to his last breaths, but he didn’t have the power to keep you away from him any longer, not when you were so adamant about staying. Had you been angrier at him, he was sure you would take your things and leave him, but there was a part of you he so adoringly loved, a part that always seemed to care too much, love too hard. 

Somehow, he praised whoever made you that way because were you not, he would no longer have the light of his life in his arms, even if his time was running out. No longer would he be able to feel the graceful touch of your fingers on his skin and the sparkling in your eyes as you stared up at him in mischief, making him feel more alive than he had ever felt in his miserable life.

Hugging you closer to him, he captured your soft lips in his, feeling the ache only increase as he basked in the way you sighed, relieved. You felt the promise of not pushing you away anymore lingering in the corner of his mouth, dragging you closer to him as hope finally seemed in reach.

–

“And as the last light of day shone through the window, he realized how it felt like to hold the world in the palm of his hands, for her eyes were the window to everything he wishes for, and more.” Glancing mischievously into Arthur’s eyes through the pages, you conclude. “The end.”

Pushing the book’s pages close with a loud bang that echoed through the sunlit room dramatically, you presented him with a toothy smile.

“I never took our dear friend for being such a romantic, Arthur.” Raising from the bed, you spun around to face the man who seemed reluctant to let you go, bending down to stare into his eyes cheekily. “Are you sure you went hunting together? With all these books, maybe you spent your time cooped up here reading romance?” A giggle left you as you walked towards the stove, checking on the stew bubbling deliciously, the smell making your mouth water as it passed your nose when you opened the lid. 

Behind you, you could almost hear how Arthur’s eyes rolled back into his head, arms still outstretched towards you. “Sure,” he drawled, staring at you warmly as you teased him. “Our favorite pastime. How did you know?”

His sarcastic tone reached you as the warmth of the cooking burned your tongue slightly when you tried to get a taste, hissing as you dropped the spoon back into the pot. 

“You can’t fool me, Arthur; I know you’re a true romantic.” Pushing your finger against the sore part of your tongue, you turn to face him, resting against the counter. 

“It’s something I always imagined for us.” You mocked slightly, puffing out your chest as your voice grew into his familiar southern drawl, imitating your earlier talk with him some time ago.

Scoffing at you, he suddenly rose from the bed, the book falling from the floor as he stepped towards you. Perking up at his motion, you found yourself stuck as his arms encased around you, the warm scent of him mingling with the food as he stepped closer. 

Cowering slightly under his gaze, you giggled nervously as you leaned back. “Have you ever heard of personal space?” He didn’t answer you as you jested with him, palms finding each side of your face as his eyes observed you tenderly. 

God, he loved you like this. Ever since your fight, every obstacle that hindered you from growing closer to each other was breached. Every time you laughed, it filled his heart with warmth, finding the life he once fell in love with reaching you again as you settled; the hardest of times now passed.

He couldn’t help it as he pressed against you, sighing deeply as your lips found his in a loving caress, smoothing over one another as the sound of your slight humming broke through the silence. 

It felt like a blessing to have Arthur close again. Some time ago, you feared you had utterly lost him as he remained a shell of who he once was, shielding himself from you and everyone else. Although at ease now, the heavy shadow of his disease still lingered over you like a cloud, most times reminding you of the sad realization that all was not well.

Despite this, you could see how much better he was faring, now both up on his feet and with a sane mind–much more like the man you fell for. At times, the anxiety still clawed its way into your mind, wondering if all of this was too good too last. Although, since both you and Arthur realized that relying your thoughts and fears on one another was fatal if this was going to work, he always kissed your worries away, driving the somber mood gone with his hands.

“Where did you go?” The words rumbled quietly against your lips as your eyes lifted to gaze into his wondering ones, feeling him push your hair behind your ear. You gave him a small smile, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Secret.” You whispered when you felt him lean closer again, the tension growing in sparks around you. 

“Oh, I see. We keepin’ secrets now?” Raising his brows in fake mock, you felt his hands circle your waist so he could lift you around his torso. An innocent smile covered your lips as he hoisted you up, slightly pinching your waist so you let out a breathless laugh.

Stalking back towards the bed, you realized his only plan had been to bring you back all this time, giving Arthur a knowing look. “I am allowed to have some secrets, you know.”

“Are you now?” He smirked at you, kissing your nose before laying you on the soft bed, hovering above you. “I think I know a few ways to get you to speak.” Crawling up your thigh was a hand filled with sinful intent.

“Well, I won’t tell, you brute!!” You laughed as you squirmed against him, wishing his hand away as they traveled further.

“Oh, I’ll show you, brute, darlin´.”

All the wounds and hurt weren’t healed by any means, but as time passed, it started to mend the damage it created. The crumbs that once were so few grew larger and larger, now swapped out with a special love that you were sure was destined just for you and the man who always had it in the palm of his hands–only the need to accept himself in order to let it reach you. 

And while this story certainly isn’t over, the worry about Arthur’s health and the glimmer in his eyes he still kept for the life he had lived and would never escape still existed. You could tell he was aware you saw it, noticing him staring longingly into the wild, fingers flexing with anticipation.

But those were thoughts for darker days. For now, as you lay with Arthur’s arms wound around you and the sparkling of the fire cracking into the silence, you would bask in it for as long as you could. With the soup long forgotten—you realized you would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked you, even if it meant your death.