#how am I supposed to just forgive her for that

[nhmkhnh]

maybe i just wanna be yours.

preface: secrets i have held in my heart—are harder to hide than i thought.

pairings: vi x fem!reader

author's note: maybe it will be the last part, but i am still a yearner of this hahah.

wrn: lowercase. | words: 5.1k

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

pervious part ʚɞ

the morning of the wedding, vi woke up before the sun.

the room was still dim, shadows soft and slouched in corners. the sheets were warm beside her, but empty. she reached over by instinct, hand searching for a form that wasn’t there.

it hit her slowly—today was the day.

her stomach twisted. not like dread. not like fear. like gravity—pulling her down, anchoring her, making everything heavier because it mattered so damn much.

she sat up, the floor cold under her bare feet. the apartment was quiet. no one screamed from the street, no pit match rattled her bones, no caitlyn yelling her name through a comm. just stillness. just her.

she padded into the kitchen. found the note on the fridge.

"gone early, didn’t wanna risk you seeing me. i love you. so much it aches. see you soon, wife. - y/n ♡"

vi stood there a long time, forehead against the refrigerator door. reading the note again. again.

wife.

she’d said yes. weeks ago, on a rooftop. after everything vi had been, and done, and failed to be. she’d said yes.

the dressing room at the venue smelled like flowers and dust. vi couldn’t breathe in the tux. she tugged at the collar, paced. the mirror across from her showed a stranger—hair clean and combed, jaw locked, shirt ironed. she looked wrong.

jinx would’ve made a crack about it. probably thrown a pie.

she chuckled dryly. blinked fast.

caitlyn came in, for once not in uniform. she carried a box.

“deep breaths, vi.”

“i’m not nervous.”

“you’ve tried to take that tie off five times.”

vi looked down. the knot was crooked.

caitlyn stepped closer. fixed it gently. smoothed it down.

“thank you,” vi muttered.

caitlyn squeezed her arm. “go easy on yourself. you deserve this.”

she left before vi could answer.

the music started.

vi’s heart slammed like a fight bell in her chest.

everyone stood. the doors opened.

and then—

there you were.

time cracked.

the sun poured through the doorway like a spotlight, hitting your hair, your smile, your dress—no, not just a dress. you looked like you belonged to another world. a dream she didn’t deserve to wake up from.

vi forgot how to breathe. how to stand.

she only remembered how to feel.

every step you took down the aisle was a punch to her ribs. gentle but devastating. she wanted to drop to her knees. say thank you. say sorry for every scar she’d ever brought home. say she’d do it all again if it meant earning this moment.

you stopped in front of her.

smiled like the sun.

“hi,” you whispered.

vi opened her mouth.

nothing came out.

just a breath. just awe.

the vows were supposed to be simple.

vi had practiced them in the mirror, on walks, in the gym. over and over. until they didn’t feel like lead in her mouth.

but now, with you in front of her, your hands in hers—she blanked.

“i…” she rasped. “i don’t know how to do this right.”

you smiled, eyes wet.

“but i know what i feel,” she went on. “i feel like you’re the only thing that ever made me want to stop running. like home stopped being a place and became… you.”

she exhaled shakily.

“you’re everything i never thought i’d get to have. and i’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret choosing me.”

you squeezed her fingers.

and then it was your turn.

and gods, you shattered her.

every word you spoke landed in her ribs like a prayer. like forgiveness. like forever.

when the officiant said she could kiss you, vi didn’t wait.

her hands cupped your cheeks. her lips pressed to yours like it was the first and last time all at once.

the cheers around you blurred. all she heard was your breath. all she felt was you.

the reception was chaos.

someone spiked the punch. ekko made a toast that turned into a roast. caitlyn danced with your grandmother. viktor slow-danced with a chair.

vi didn’t care.

she watched you across the room. laughing. dancing. glowing.

her wife.

she mouthed it to herself again and again.

her wife.

at one point, you looked over. caught her watching. crooked your finger.

she went willingly.

you pulled her into a slow dance. arms around her neck. bare feet on her shoes.

vi leaned close. nose brushing yours.

“you’re real,” she whispered.

“i’m yours.”

that night, when the world was quiet and your dress was hanging over a chair, vi pulled you into bed and buried her face in your neck.

not for lust.

just for closeness.

she didn’t sleep.

she didn’t want to miss a single second of forever starting.

the first morning of their honeymoon, vi woke up tangled in linen sheets and sunlight.

the hotel suite was too nice. too soft. she was used to cracked walls and cheap windows, the creak of old springs and street noise. but here? it was quiet. gentle. the sea outside murmured like it didn’t want to wake them.

and then there was you.

you were curled on your side, facing her, lashes dark against your cheeks. peace written all over your face, like it had finally, finally found you. vi didn’t move. didn’t breathe. just watched.

she didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but she memorized everything: the slope of your shoulder in the light, the way your lips twitched in sleep, the faint imprint of the sheets on your skin.

she brushed your cheek with the backs of her fingers, careful not to wake you. then she sat up and scrubbed her hands over her face, whispering to herself,

“all right, vi. you're someone's wife now. try not to fuck it up.”

the day passed slowly. you ate breakfast on the balcony—vi in a tank top, you in nothing but one of her shirts and a smile. she couldn’t stop staring. didn’t even touch the toast. just kept her arm slung across your chair, brushing your knee every few seconds like she had to confirm you were still real.

you planned the itinerary. vi nodded through it all. she didn’t care what you did. jungle tour, beach walk, glass-bottom boat—didn’t matter. as long as it was with you.

the afternoon sun turned everything gold. you dragged her into the ocean. vi complained—“too cold, cupcake”—but you didn’t let go. she ended up laughing in chest-deep water, salt clinging to your hair, her arms around your waist.

and when you kissed her there, water up to your ribs, hands sliding into her hair—vi thought, this is it. this is the rest of my damn life.

that night, you showered first. vi sprawled on the bed, hair still damp from the sea, flipping through channels she didn’t care about.

then you came out.

white towel. damp skin. smiling at her like you knew what you looked like.

vi sat up slow.

you walked over, towel tucked tight under your arms, and climbed into her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“you smell like salt,” she murmured, voice rough.

“you smell like trouble,” you teased.

she kissed you like a promise. teeth grazing your lip, hands firm on your hips. you laughed against her mouth until she pulled the sound right out of you.

the towel dropped. her hands replaced it.

you both stumbled back to the shower. the water hot this time, steam curling in the air.

vi backed you into the tile, forehead pressed to yours. her voice dropped low:

“you married a mess, cupcake.”

you smiled, breathless.

“guess i like cleaning up.”

and gods, the way she kissed you after that—like a sinner praying. like she wanted to leave fingerprints on your soul.

she whispered your name against your throat, your collarbone, the space beneath your ribs. she took her time—rough but reverent—her mouth trailing steam and want across every inch of your skin.

water dripped from her hair onto your chest. she held your hips like they were glass. moved with you until your legs trembled, your voice broke, and your nails left little half-moons in her back.

afterward, when the water cooled and your breath steadied, vi stayed wrapped around you. holding tight. like if she let go, the dream would vanish.

she kissed your temple.

“i’ll never get enough of you.”

you smiled, eyes closed, hand on her heart.

“good,” you whispered. “because you’re stuck with me.”

vi laughed—low, wrecked. “damn right i am.”

outside, the sea kept murmuring. inside, vi finally fell asleep—not because she was tired, but because for once, she wasn’t afraid to dream.

the first time they came back home as each other’s wife, the city air hit different.

zaun was still loud, still grimy, still too damn familiar—but vi couldn’t stop smiling. couldn’t stop glancing at the ring on her hand like she couldn’t quite believe it was there.

their place wasn’t much—small flat, third floor, slanted ceiling, a window that got stuck when it rained. but when she opened the door and saw you step inside first, kicking off your shoes and stretching like it was just another evening, something inside her settled. something deep. ancient.

home.

you turned to her with that look—soft, teasing. the one that had undone her in ten different countries on that honeymoon.

“well, wife?” you asked. “you coming in or just gonna stare?”

vi barked a laugh, hoarse from the plane ride. “i’m coming in, wife.”

god, that word.

she locked the door, dropped her bag, and crossed the room in two strides to scoop you up—arms tight around your waist as you squealed and laughed, legs wrapping around her automatically.

she kissed you hard. messy. like she hadn’t kissed you every morning and night for the last two weeks. like she was still starving.

“i missed this place,” you murmured.

vi nosed against your throat. “i missed you in it.”

“you had me the whole time.”

“still missed you.”

you rolled your eyes and kissed her again. “help me unpack?”

vi groaned dramatically but nodded. “only if i get to see you in my shirts again.”

that night, they unpacked half the bags. ate takeout on the couch. curled up in a blanket that smelled like old detergent and dust. and when you fell asleep against her shoulder, ring catching the dim lamplight—vi didn’t dare move.

she kissed your knuckles. whispered something she couldn’t quite say when you were awake:

“i’m yours. always was.”

the balcony had always been a little crooked.

vi noticed it the first time she climbed up with a wrench in one hand and you in the other—back when the place still smelled like paint and the floorboards creaked like they might betray every step. she’d muttered something about “shitty contractors” and you’d laughed, saying, “we’ll fix it. together.”

it took a year to get around to it.

sunday morning. warm light crawling up the walls. you wore an old shirt with the sleeves rolled high and a pair of work gloves that didn’t quite fit. vi looked at you across the balcony like she might never recover.

“you know,” she said, kneeling by the railing with a screwdriver, “this could’ve waited another year. it builds character, living on the edge.”

you snorted. “it’s a hazard.”

vi smirked. “so am i, cupcake.”

but when you knelt beside her, offering a bolt like a quiet lifeline, the smirk softened. she took it with a nudge of her knuckles against your hand.

they worked in easy silence after that. you held pieces steady while she tightened the screws. she swore at the rust. you hummed an old tune. birds squawked overhead, zaun’s distant hum filling the gaps.

“you ever think we’d get here?” vi asked, not looking up.

you glanced at her. “to the balcony?”

she huffed a laugh. “no. here. like this. married. fixing shit instead of breaking it.”

she meant more than wood and nails.

you were quiet for a second. then you bumped her shoulder with yours and said, “you’ve always known how to rebuild.”

vi’s throat tightened. she didn’t answer. just kept her hands busy, screwing the last piece into place while the light caught in your hair like something holy.

when the final bolt clicked in, you both sat back and looked at it—still crooked, a little lopsided, but solid. yours.

vi exhaled slow. wiped sweat from her brow. then reached out and tugged you closer, hand warm on your thigh.

“you’re my favorite thing i’ve ever fixed,” she murmured.

you leaned your head on her shoulder. “i thought i fixed you.”

vi smiled into your hair. “guess we fixed each other.”

and under the soft weight of a half-repaired balcony and a city that never slept, vi closed her eyes. let the moment settle. let the peace take root.

because for once, there was nothing left to run from. only things worth staying for.

the new neighbor had a nice smile.

too nice.

vi didn’t notice at first. she was busy carrying groceries up the stairs, grumbling about the busted elevator and trying not to drop a carton of eggs. you were ahead of her, talking politely to someone at the landing. voice light. laughing.

that’s what made vi look up.

tall guy. clean shirt. lived in 3b, if she remembered right. handsome in that overconfident, i-have-a-blender-that-costs-more-than-rent way. and you—gods—you were smiling.

vi’s eye twitched.

she shouldered the door open, stepping between you and mr. too-friendly. set the bags down harder than necessary. “hey, babe,” she said, voice flat. “who’s this?”

you looked at her with that innocent little blink. “this is eli. he just moved in. he offered to help carry the rest of the bags.”

eli gave her a nod. “happy to lend a hand.”

vi stared at him. “mm.”

your hand slid around her waist casually. eli didn’t miss it. vi definitely didn’t.

“we’re good, thanks,” vi added, pulling you just a bit closer. “my wife’s got strong arms.”

you snorted quietly. “she does.”

eli raised a hand in farewell, polite smile still stuck to his face. “nice to meet you both.”

when the door shut behind him, vi didn’t move. just stared at it like it might try something.

you tapped her chest. “vi.”

“she was laughing,” vi muttered.

you raised an eyebrow. “because he made a joke about moving in during zaun’s noisiest month. you jealous?”

vi scowled. “no.”

you smiled wider. “you are jealous.”

vi crossed her arms. “i’m just observant.”

you stepped in close. pressed your hands to her chest. “babe. you realize i married you, right? like… officially. legally. spiritually.”

vi’s jaw clenched. “doesn’t mean i like people looking at you like you’re free.”

you kissed her. soft. sure. “i’m not.”

“damn right you’re not.”

she kissed you back—harder, hungrier. like she had something to prove. backed you into the counter and tangled her hands in your shirt like hers, hers, hers.

later, curled up on the couch with your legs over hers and your hand on her chest, she muttered, “still don’t like him.”

you grinned. “i know. but i like you jealous.”

vi groaned. “you’re the worst.”

you kissed her jaw. “you’re mine.”

vi smiled.

“yeah. i am.”

rain came in soft.

not the kind that slammed against the windows or roared over rooftops. no thunder. just a steady whisper, tapping on the glass like it wanted to be let in.

vi was already awake.

she didn’t know why. habit, maybe. a life full of running made it hard to stay still. but now... now she could be still. and gods, she didn’t want to move.

because you were asleep on her chest.

legs tangled. face half-buried in her shirt. hair messy from the night before. your breath slow and warm, your fingers curled gently under the fabric at her waist.

vi exhaled through her nose, arm tightening around you. her other hand slid up your back, drawing little shapes there. circles. lines. meaningless, maybe, but real.

outside, the rain kept falling.

she stared at the ceiling for a while. let her heart catch up to her thoughts. the weight of you on her chest felt better than any armor. any weapon. it felt like peace.

you shifted a little. mumbled something soft. pressed your face further into her.

vi smiled.

gods, she was so gone for you.

you didn’t even need to say anything. just this—this quiet, this warmth, your trust—was enough to knock the wind out of her.

a lazy minute passed. then two. then your voice, hoarse with sleep:

“babe… you’re awake?”

“mmhm.”

you yawned. “what time is it?”

“no idea. rainy o’clock.”

you laughed, voice still rough, and tilted your head up. “we have errands.”

vi shook her head. “nope. canceled. world doesn’t exist today. only you. me. and this bed.”

you stretched with a soft groan, arms sliding around her waist. “you making declarations now, mrs. cupcake?”

“damn right i am,” vi murmured, kissing the top of your head. “wife privileges.”

you melted right back into her chest.

and that’s how you spent the morning.

no alarms. no outside noise. just you and her, wrapped up in too many blankets, watching the sky drip slow tears against the windows. you shared sleepy kisses and whispered nonsense. you told her you loved her. again and again. and vi—gods, vi felt it.

not just in the way you said it.

but in the way you stayed.

the way you reached for her without thinking.

the way you trusted her with your whole, unguarded heart.

vi pressed a kiss to your forehead. whispered against your skin:

“i’ll love you like this every day.”

and you, still half-asleep, smiled like you already knew.

it started with silence.

one of those nights where the air was too heavy. the blankets too warm. the shadows too loud.

vi lay awake beside you, staring at the ceiling. her hand rested on your back, thumb tracing idle lines between your shoulder blades. you were asleep—peaceful, steady. her opposite.

she couldn’t close her eyes. couldn’t stop thinking.

zaun was still in her bones. in the way her jaw clenched. in the way her fingers twitched like she was ready for a fight that wasn’t coming.

you shifted in your sleep, curling in closer. vi flinched, just a little.

she didn’t deserve this. any of this.

this bed. this house. you.

she’d taken too much. broken too many things. you were the only good thing she hadn’t wrecked.

her throat tightened.

vi sat up, careful not to wake you, and ran a hand through her hair. she stared at the wall. at the soft outline of photos you’d pinned beside the dresser. wedding shots. beach smiles. morning pancakes. proof of a life she still didn’t fully believe she’d earned.

the sheets rustled behind her.

“vi?” your voice was rough, laced with sleep.

she didn’t turn around. “sorry. didn’t mean to wake you.”

you reached out blindly. your hand found her back. “what’s wrong?”

vi hesitated.

then: “couldn’t sleep.”

you sat up behind her, arms looping slowly around her waist, pulling her back against you. “talk to me,” you whispered.

vi swallowed hard.

she was quiet for a long time. but the pressure of your hand on her chest—solid, grounding—made something crack loose.

“i used to dream about getting out,” she said quietly. “not even out of zaun. just… out of the dark. the noise. all the shit i couldn’t fix.”

you didn’t speak. just listened. held her tighter.

“i thought if i could just survive long enough, maybe i’d get something decent. a bed. a door that locked. a morning where i didn’t have to fight.”

she exhaled.

“didn’t think it’d ever happen. not really. not for me.”

you pressed your face between her shoulder blades. she felt your breath there, warm and steady.

“i’ve done things,” vi whispered, throat tight. “things i don’t talk about. stuff i still see when i close my eyes.”

your arms slid around her front now, palms flat against her stomach, anchoring her to the present. to you.

“i’m scared sometimes,” she said, voice cracking. “that i’ll mess this up. that you’ll look at me one day and see it. all of it. and leave.”

you didn’t let go.

instead, you slid into her lap, straddling her waist, cupping her face in both hands.

“look at me,” you whispered.

she did.

you kissed her—slow, deliberate, gentle.

“i see you,” you said against her lips. “all of you. i’m not leaving.”

vi’s hands clenched on your hips. she didn’t realize she was shaking until your thumbs brushed away tears she hadn’t noticed falling.

“you saved me,” she murmured.

you smiled softly. “you saved yourself. i just gave you a place to land.”

and vi—tough, scarred, brave vi—broke a little.

collapsed forward into your chest, arms clinging tight, breath trembling with everything she couldn’t say.

you rocked her gently. kissed the side of her head.

and when she finally fell asleep, hours later, it wasn’t from exhaustion or habit.

it was because—for the first time in years—she felt safe.

helping each other get ready for a gala was a disaster waiting to happen—and vi was the disaster.

you stood in front of the vanity, already dressed, already glowing, checking your makeup. meanwhile, vi was half-dressed and entirely distracted.

she had one shoe on and her tie in her mouth. her hair was still damp from the rushed shower, and she was trying to figure out cufflinks like they were weapons-grade tech.

“you’re gonna stab yourself,” you warned gently.

“i have stabbed myself. twice.”

you came over, clicked the cufflinks into place with practiced fingers. vi watched you the whole time—didn’t even try to hide it. when you straightened up, she tilted her chin.

“do the tie, too?”

you sighed, but your smile gave you away. she leaned in close while you fixed it. the moment your fingers touched her collar, vi’s hands settled on your waist.

“can’t believe i get to take you out lookin’ like this,” she muttered.

you arched a brow. “you’re not taking me out. we’re attending a benefit dinner.”

“semantics. i’m still showing you off.”

you pulled the knot tight with a soft tug that made her hiss.

“be good,” you warned.

vi grinned. “define good.”

later, when she zipped up your dress in the mirror—fingers trailing slower than necessary—she kissed the back of your shoulder, all reverence.

“you sure you wanna go out tonight?” she murmured. “could just stay in. i got a whole speech prepared about how gorgeous you look and everything.”

you smacked her arm.

they left ten minutes late. you, radiant and composed. vi, smug as hell, hand on your back like she’d won the whole world.

it started with a casual walk. one of those lazy sunday mornings where the city felt quieter, like even zaun had agreed to sleep in. you were holding vi’s hand, your other cradling a coffee cup. her thumb was rubbing slow circles over your knuckles, not even thinking about it—just muscle memory at this point.

and then you both passed by the shelter.

vi barely glanced at the sign, but you tugged gently at her sleeve.

“let’s just look,” you said.

vi smirked. “that’s what people say right before they come out with a slobber machine and a thousand regrets.”

you rolled your eyes. “ten minutes.”

she gave in easy. she always did when it came to you.

inside, it smelled like antiseptic and too many memories. barking echoed off the tile. a few volunteers waved. one of them recognized you. the other recognized vi.

vi stuck close, eyes scanning each kennel with a guarded look. you stopped by every pup, giving them gentle greetings through the bars. vi watched you—more than the dogs. watched the way you smiled. the way your voice softened.

and then you reached her.

a scrawny, gangly-legged thing with one floppy ear and paws too big for her body. all ribs and clumsy steps, fur too long in some places and patchy in others. but her tail thumped the moment she saw you. loud and wild. like she’d been waiting.

you crouched down.

“hey there,” you whispered.

the pup pressed her whole body against the gate like it could melt the steel between you. tongue out. eyes wide. unashamed in her desperation to be held.

vi knelt beside you, slow.

she wasn’t cute, not in the clean way. not the kind you’d see in a polished ad. but something in vi broke when that little thing leaned forward and licked your fingers through the bars.

“she’s got your attitude,” vi muttered.

you blinked up at her. “excuse me?”

vi nodded toward the tail-wagging chaos. “loud. messy. begging for love. you two’ll get along great.”

you nudged her shoulder, laughing. “so you admit you’re marrying chaos.”

“i married you, didn’t i?”

a volunteer came by, asked if you wanted to meet her properly. you didn’t even have to answer. vi said, “yeah,” before you could open your mouth.

the apartment was never the same.

she piddled on the carpet. chewed the baseboards. cried at night. needed walks at godawful hours. but vi never complained.

she tried. she grumbled, sure—but she still sat on the floor at 3am with the puppy asleep on her chest, whispering, “you’re lucky i love your mom,” like a secret.

she let the mutt eat her sandwich once. just looked at the empty plate like, damn, and then sighed.

“fine. guess i’m having kibble too.”

she carried her home in the pouring rain when she got spooked by thunder. she built her a little ramp when the stairs were too high. and she let her sleep between you, even when it meant waking up with a snout in her armpit and paws on her face.

the first time the pup barked at someone who got too close to you—vi’s chest swelled like she’d raised a champion.

“that’s my girl,” she whispered, giving her a treat and a look that screamed pride.

you found her one afternoon fast asleep on the couch, dog curled up on her stomach, her hand resting in thick fur, both of them snoring softly.

you didn’t wake her.

you just sat on the floor beside them, brushing hair from her eyes, heart so full it ached.

vi mumbled in her sleep.

“gotta get her a little vest,” she muttered. “so people know she’s got two moms.”

you smiled until your cheeks hurt.

it wasn’t anything big. you both agreed.

no fancy dinner. no flights. no flashy gifts. just a quiet night at home—where it started, where it grew.

vi came home late from work, boots scuffed, hair windblown, a tired little smirk already forming when she saw the soft apartment light spilling under the door.

she stepped inside.

and there it was.

the smell of garlic and basil. the soft crackle of music on low. you, in the kitchen barefoot, swaying a little to the beat with her old hoodie draped over your body like it belonged there. like you belonged there.

vi leaned against the doorframe. watched you for a second.

“you tryin’ to kill me?” she asked, voice rough from the wind.

you turned, eyes lighting up. “you’re late.”

“got stuck babysitting some rookie. had to walk him through a report like i wasn’t thinkin’ about you the whole damn time.”

you smiled and held out your hand. she crossed the room immediately.

dinner was a mess. the pasta stuck together. the sauce was too salty. the garlic bread nearly burned. but neither of you cared. you both ate it on the floor, side by side, backs against the couch, trading bites and laughing like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.

because it was.

vi looked at you between bites, twirling a fork lazily in her hand. “can’t believe it’s been a year.”

you wiped sauce off her chin with your thumb. “i can. i’ve felt every second.”

“yeah?” she asked, softer now.

“yeah,” you said. “every moment. every morning waking up next to you. every dumb little inside joke. every time you left the dishes too long and swore they were ‘soaking.’”

she snorted. “that’s a real thing.”

you leaned into her shoulder. “every single second, vi. i’ve loved it all.”

vi stared down at her hands for a second. then she glanced at the rings on both of yours.

“thought i’d screw it up,” she whispered. “i didn’t know if i could really… be someone’s wife, y’know?”

you looked at her, gentle.

“you didn’t screw it up. you made it. you made this.”

she swallowed hard. “still feel like i don’t deserve it, sometimes.”

you took her hand, squeezed.

“well, lucky for you… i’m not giving it back.”

her eyes flicked up. shining a little now.

you both sat quiet for a moment, the room humming low with the sound of your song.

then vi reached into her pocket and pulled out something small. a key.

you blinked. “what’s that?”

she looked sheepish. “made a copy. of the old key to my place—the one i used to carry before i met you. i had it cut into a pendant.”

she held it out. the metal was worn, smooth with age. hanging on a chain.

“so i’d remember,” she murmured, “that i had a place before you… but i didn’t have a home.”

your throat tightened.

she hesitated. “too cheesy?”

you shook your head. tears pricking. “no. it’s perfect.”

then you reached under the couch cushion, pulled something from where you'd hidden it—wrapped in paper, tied with string.

vi blinked. “you got me somethin’?”

“open it.”

she unwrapped it slowly. inside: a photo. taken by a friend when the two of you weren’t looking. she was holding you from behind, chin on your shoulder, both of you mid-laugh. the caption you wrote at the bottom?

“my home.”

vi stared at it for a long time.

then she set it down carefully, reached out, and cupped your face with both hands.

“happy anniversary, cupcake,” she whispered.

“happy anniversary, my love.”

“i don’t care where we live, what we’re doing, how broke or tired or lost i feel,” vi said, breath catching. “you’re it. you’re my home.”

you leaned into her palms. “and you’re mine.”

she kissed you like she was sealing something eternal.

and maybe she was.

because when the night ended—when the dishes were done, and the lights were off, and you curled together under the same old blanket—you didn’t need candles or diamonds or fancy dinners.

you just needed this.

her hand in yours.

the sound of her breathing.

the wordless knowing between two people who had found what they were always looking for.

[iwantmyprizepet]

𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽 ℐ𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒴𝑜𝓊 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 7/?

Summary: You don’t miss Agatha at all while she’s away on her business trip. Not at all. She probably didn’t miss you either…unless.

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This was supposed to be 9k but my brain could not handle editing it. My side gardening job is starting up for the summer so I am working long hours six days a week. I am also in a cover band and we have a bunch of local gigs that are popping up. AND I’m in a wedding next month. I am drowning lol. If my updates become a little more spaced out and shorter please pleaseeee bear with me and don’t lose interest. I BEG. I appreciate all of you who show love for this. Hope you’re all doing good.

- Mich :) (If I made any mistakes please forgive me)

AO3 Previous Part

My Royal Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @ahintofchaos @morgananyx @coffeemelko @xblinkx2

/////

Sunday was an eventful day of bringing home my parents Christmas tree.

As predicted, it was it’s usual near disaster getting into the house.

My dad only had a little bit of height on me. Us fighting a ten foot tree every year was comical to say the least.

I’d beg for them to get a shorter one every time, but it never worked.

By the time we finished with lights and ornaments I was drained. Pine needles in every pocket and sap sticking everywhere.

When I got home with my own tree it was all I had to get it up the stairs and in the stand.

I lay awake thinking of Agatha, of course.

I’d obsessively checked every flight leaving airports nearby for Chicago to make sure she landed safely.

It crossed my mind to ring luxury hotels in the Chicago area. See if there was an Agatha Harkness on their guest list. The word stalker rang through my head stopping me.

I could not get the damned woman out of my head.

Monday was a cloud covered morning that brought a few inches of snow.

I decorated my tree and the small one I had got for the cafe.

I admired them for a few minutes outside after the sun set. The whole street was like a Christmas wonderland. All the holiday lights bright against the snow.

I tried not to think about how nice it would be with Agatha by my side. Huddled close in the cold outside. Her wavy hair collecting specks of snow. I thought about it too hard before I went back inside.

I was used to not seeing Agatha on my day off so it wasn’t as nagging and slow.

Tuesday on the other hand was like a snails crawl.

The snow had let up Monday night, but what fell still deterred customers. That mixed with knowing I would’t be seeing Agatha had the clock ticking backwards.

I didn’t even know when she’d be back. I didn’t think to ask. No, instead I just said okay over and over again.

It was so easy to remember our last encounter while at work.

My chest felt near caving in at the memory of our hug. How tight she held to me, every time her breath fell on my neck and god that perfume.

The shirt I had on that day still lay dirty on top of my washer. Her perfume lingered on the chest of it. I knew it was insane, but I couldn’t stop myself from smelling it since that day.

Tuesday bled into Wednesday in a dull way.

Sally tore in with her usual vigor mid day.

“Hello crew!” She jovially threw our way.

All three of us sent her a greeting back. I held up an empty cup to her as a silent question, she nodded.

“Listen, about the holiday party. Would any of you be opposed to pushing it up to next week instead of the week of Christmas? Rachel surprised us with a trip to the mountains and we leave next weekend.”

I turned to Chloe and Janice. Chloe gave a head shake and Janice shrugged unbothered.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. What day?” I replied fixing her usual drink.

“I don’t know maybe Thursday or Friday next week? Up to you guys.”

“I’d prefer Thursday if that’s okay.” Chloe chimed in absently while on her phone.

“That’s good for me.” Janice said from the window.

I turned to Sally and handed her the drink. “Thursday then?”

She gave two thumbs up with a wide smile. I laughed leaning on the counter.

We always had an annual Christmas party on the strip. Chloe brought Brooks, Janice sometimes would have her husband or kids come. Sally’s husband and daughter, Ben and Rachel usually came too.

We invited Dennis every year, but he never showed up.

Then there was Edgar and his crew, Anne and Greg from the antique shop and Lilly with her employees from the little trinket store.

We did a yankee swap, fifty dollar limit and everyone brought a food dish.

It was the easiest to do it in the cafe so that’s where it ended up every year.

“Alright, we’ll do it after closing how’s around five sound?” I suggested.

“I’ll get the word out.” Sally said sliding over a five. “You should invite your new friend.”

She seemed to try to ease it out casually. A giddiness lingered behind her words that gave her away.

“Sorry?” I asked playing dumb even though I knew who she was talking about.

“Miss. Maserati, she’s here quite often lately.” Sally said nearly bubbling over with each word.

I rolled my eyes and turned a glare to Chloe. Her face also gave her away instantly.

“By any chance has this one aided in your knowledge of, as you put it Miss Maserati?” I turned my glare on Chloe back to Sally.

Chloe snorted and Sally held her hands up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just an observation.” Sally played innocent picking up her coffee cup.

“Lies.” Broke out from Janice. “These two are like gossip girls about you when you’re not around.”

I gasped deepening my glare on the two.

“Janice!” Chloe scolded earning a chuckle from her.

“That’s my cue, bye ladies.” Sally called already out the door.

It was all a playful exchange, though I was a tad annoyed at it.

“At least I know someone tells me the truth around here.” I said shooting a wink to Janice who in turn gave me thumbs up.

“Oh, shut up.” Chloe laughed shoving my shoulder. “You should invite her though.”

I shook my head as I turned to walk away. “We’ll see about that. I’m taking five.”

“Yeah, yeah just walk away.” A towel hit my back right before I made it to the door.

——————————————————————————

I found myself plagued by the idea of inviting her now.

It wasn’t like it was some serious thing. Just a casual party with friends.

I would be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that everyone else always had someone to invite but I never did.

I decided by Thursday night I’d invite her. If she said no it would be fine. If she came it would be fine. No big deal either way.

I really had hope she’d come breezing in on Friday. When I flicked the open sign off, I felt a bit dejected.

All week every time the bell chimed my head shot to the door. It was never her.

It was my own fault. If I had just asked when she’d be back specifically, this wouldn’t be a problem. On the edge of my seat like a schoolgirl waiting to see their crush.

I set off for the grocery store after work. It wasn’t too busy surprisingly. I took the long way home to drive around and see the Christmas lights around town.

When the cafe came back into view, my heart nearly leapt into my throat.

Parked right in front was the owner of my thoughts. Agatha Harkness.

I pulled into my parking spot on the side of the building.

She still sat in her car as I got out of mine. I wondered if she’d even seen me pull up.

I was second guessing if it was even her, even though I had memorized her license plate.

I heard her door shut behind me as I pulled the groceries from my trunk.

My heart and stomach were fluttering something awful.

I closed my trunk and placed the two paper bags on top.

Turning around, she was already halfway up the drive smiling. She wore a loose cream suit, slightly darker turtleneck underneath. A big gold earring stood out in front of the hair tucked behind her left ear, which as usual, was perfect and wavy. A gold necklace lay against the collar of her shirt.

I on the other hand wore jeans and a t shirt under a jacket. Dreadfully dull next to her.

“Hey, you.” I greeted leaning back on my car, arms crossed.

I was trying extremely hard to play it cool.

“Hey, yourself.” She greeted back in that low voice of hers.

I had to stop myself from letting out a groan. I wanted to climb into her arms and not let go. I missed her so much. Again, I found myself holding back saying it.

She stopped just a foot in front of me.


“I was ready to leave. I wasn’t sure if or when you’d be back.”

I wanted to reply, well if you’d asked for my number this wouldn’t be a problem would it, but I didn’t.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” A much easier statement.

Her smirk sharpened her eyes. “I landed late last night, but I had a dreadful meeting that lasted far too long today.”

I nodded shifting on my feet. “I was just about to start dinner. Would you like to stay?”

Her smile grew and she nodded. “I’d love to.”

“Why don’t you pull in behind me. People drive like ass holes after dark on the street. Wouldn’t want you to lose a mirror.” I suggested it casually.

Really I just wanted a minute to make sure my place wasn’t too out of shape. It wasn’t a lie though. Kids treated it like a drag strip at night.

“Okay.”

Something in the look she shot me had me thinking she knew.

“I’ll leave the door open.” I called to her after she turned.

I made my way upstairs as calmly as I could.

Luckily I had just done a good clean Monday. I spritzed a room spray and folded the blanket at the bottom of my bed.

The sound of her car door closing jolted me.

Shooting to the bathroom I looked over myself, my hair felt messy from the wind. I felt incredibly bland looking today. I did the best I could to straighten out my hair and popped back out just as she walked in.

It felt just as surreal as the first time seeing her in my house.

“Hi.” I breathed out on a smile.

“Hi.” She laughed lightly dropping her purse on the table near the door.

It was so effortless. Like she’d done it a thousand times.

I started taking the groceries out of the bags.

“What’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Agatha asked stepping into the open kitchen.

“Oh, just a quick gnocchi dish. I hope that’s okay.” I replied walking an armful of groceries to the fridge.

“Perfect.”

My nerves started to grow by the second. She eyed me the entire time I put everything away.

Her scent seemed extra potent today. I wanted to float on it into her arms.

After placing everything I’d need for the recipe near the stove I turned and walked to her.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?”

I stopped myself just a few inches from her. I almost didn’t stop.

She nodded on top of one of her dangerous Agatha looks. Dangerous in the way it had me in danger of doing something stupid like kissing her.

“Red or white?” I asked walking over to the bottles.

“White.”

I turned the record player on and placed the needle to the vinyl that already lay there.

Hozier’s Wasteland, Baby.

I realized upon looking at my wine selection, most of it was probably below par for what she was used to.

I decided on the forty dollar bottle I picked up a few months ago. I’d been saving it for a special occasion and well, it certainly was.

I popped the cork and grabbed two glasses pouring a good amount in both. 

I turned with both glasses and nearly bumped into her. I don’t even know how she’d gotten right behind me so quietly.

My chest ached to fall into her. I was starting to lose track of how often that was happening.

I held her glass up and she took it, warm hand sliding over my own.

“Cheers.” I said quietly holding my glass up.

“Cheers.”

Our glasses clinked, eyes locked as we took a sip. I broke away walking past her back to the kitchen.

It didn’t take long to finish cooking.

Agatha sat on a stool at the island after I told her three times I didn’t need help. Her being close while I cooked wouldn’t help us eat any faster.

Conversation flowed so easily. Anytime there was a silence it was comfortable.

Agatha poured us another glass of wine while I plated the food.

She even made eating look elegant. I had to keep reminding myself to eat my own food and not stare at her. Agatha complimented the dish up and down heating my face slightly.

She tried to clean the dishes but I scolded her away.

“I’ll do them later go sit down.” I said nudging her.

She held her hands up with a laugh and made her way over to sit on the couch.

I followed behind her contemplating my move. Should I sit on the opposite end? Maybe just sit on the chair instead.

Her bold decision to sit on the middle cushion of the couch made up my mind for me.

As I sat to the side of her, she turned towards me tucking her knees up just on the edge of my lap. Her elbow fell to the back of the couch propping her head up. 

We eyed each other, Shrike softly playing in the background. Her eyelids seemed to be growing heavier.

I reached out running my finger under her necklace. It felt like I had permission to do it now after the last time.

“You look tired.”

She made a soft hum in response between a smile and closed her eyes.

“I do need to go. I’m stalling.” She admitted quietly, eyes opening again.

I let out a low sigh and mirrored her resting my head on my hand.

“Oh, that reminds me.” She stood suddenly walking to the door. “The souvenir I promised you.”

I laughed watching her rifle through her purse. She turned holding a long black box causing my face to drop. She remained smirking walking back to me.

After sitting down she held it out for me to take. It took me a second, but I eventually did.

Slowly, I opened the box and was met with the sight of a silver chain. I wasn’t positive on the price, but I knew it was more than every piece of jewelry I’d ever owned put together. It looked diamond cut, shimmering and fucking gorgeous.

“I noticed the rings you always wear are silver. I figured you’d prefer this to gold.” She broke the long silence. “Well, technically it’s white gold but all the same.”

I shook my head and closed the box.

“Agatha.” I looked up to her feeling uneasy. “Souvenirs are supposed to be tacky little things from an airport. This is not a souvenir. I can’t take this.”

I was exasperated trying to get her to take it back.

She let out a loud laugh throwing her head back. “That’s just what people do last minute when they haven’t thought about you for a minute while away.”

I swallowed hard under her blue gaze.

She continued on my silence. “I in fact did think of you, often.”

The buzzing in my chest felt near explosive.

“It’s too much. I can’t take it. I don’t even wear jewelry often. Just the rings.” I held it back to her. “Resell it or keep it or give it to someone else maybe I don’t know.”


It was all rushed out a stutter coming out here and there.

I had a hard time accepting gifts in general from anyone. Never mind a random gift like this from her.

She let out a long sigh and grabbed the box

“Listen.” She said it softly but it was very much so a command. “I got this specifically for you.” A pause as she opened the box and removed the chain. “I won’t be reselling it or giving it away and I don’t need it.”

She stood unclasping the chain.

“Agatha.” It came out in a pathetic way.

Her hand touched the side of my neck to brush my hair to one side.

I could barely breath, still as stone.

She slid the chain around, both hands at the back of my neck fastening it. A chill shot down my neck dispersing electric through out.

“There we go.” She said just above a whisper moving my hair back.

She shuffled, standing right in front of and above me looking down. Her hand reached out, fingers snaking under the front of the chain. Just like I’d done to her a handful of times now. Her fingers moved back and forth, knuckles pressing to my chest.

My heart was hammering as I looked up at her. Her lips pursed with a smile as she pulled away.

God, it was like I was being forced to think of nothing but kissing her.

“I should go.” She turned on her heel.

I shot up, jewelry box falling to the ground as I moved quickly causing her to turn back.

I slammed into her wrapping my arms around her shoulders tight. She followed suit arms wrapping around my waist just as hard.

“I missed you.” The words I’d been wanting to say since she left, finally slipping out in a whisper.

Her voice was just shy of my ear. “It’s quite mutual, darling.”

My heart pounded under my chest. A few moments passed around our warm embrace before she pulled back.

“I really should go.” She said under hooded eyes.

I placed my hands on either shoulder and nodded.

Slowly she dragged her hands from my back, to the sides of my waist and let go. I forced mine from her shoulders and she turned towards the door.

“Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.” She said as she slipped her purse on.

I nodded with a smile as I walked over to her. “My pleasure. Thank you for the as you call it, souvenir.” I added a bit of sarcasm on the last word.

She laughed head tilting down.

I clasped my hands behind my back, halting them from tugging her in for another hug.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I wanted to say here take my number and let me know when you get home safe, but I didn’t.

She pushed through the door and disappeared down the stairs.

I watched on from above until her tail lights disappeared.

The voice in my head still nagged that there was no way she felt something for me. Me of all people in the world.

For the first time though, there was a little glimmer in the corner that thought…maybe.

——————————————————————————

Saturday came and again I was left wondering if or when I’d see her. She really did have all the power in so many ways.

I clipped the chain around my neck this morning as I got ready. I stared in the mirror debating how to wear it. I’d never liked the way I looked in a necklace.

I ultimately decided to tuck it under my shirt. Despite it being visibly hidden, the weight of it was on my mind all day.

I planned to ask her to come to the holiday party today if I saw her. My nerves were haywire thinking about it.

First order of business would be another hug. It was becoming addictive being wrapped in her arms. Which was concerning considering it’d only happened twice.

She pulled up minutes before closing.

Instead of staying on the street, she backed up into the empty space behind my car. I tried to tame the smile it left on my face with no avail.

I figured she was waiting outside after a few minutes passed.

After closing up I locked the door, turned and rounded the building.

Her car still ran as she sat in it on the phone. The annoyance she wore on her face melted away into a smile when she saw me. My own instantly chased after hers.

She rolled her window down as I approached the car.

“Hold for a minute.” She barked at whoever was on the phone.

She silenced her end of the line before turning to me.

“Sorry, this is just going to be a few minutes more.” Her arm lay on the open window as she leaned out of it slightly to meet my gaze.

Smiling down to her I gathered up some confidence.

Reaching my hand out, I placed it gently over her arm and ran my thumb back and forth. I could feel the muscles tense underneath my palm. Her fingers applied a pressure to the door, veins showing clearer.

“No worries. Doors unlocked.”

I turned on my heel and walked away heading for the stairs not waiting for an answer. She was silent for a few seconds before her window began rolling up and she continued her phone call.

I quickly lit my favorite candle when I got inside. I freshened up and threw on a new shirt. With a quick swipe of deodorant and a small spritz of perfume, I sat on the couch.

I was going for laid back and chill. Not at all excited for her to walk through the door.

When she did I instantly ruined it by standing and walking over to her.

She stood at the door after shutting it behind her as I walked over.

“I didn’t know if you were busy tonight. I can leave if you have plans.”

There was no possibility she was nervous. The idea that I could make someone like her nervous was just not possible.

If it was at all plausible though, she certainly seemed like she could be a touch nervous.

I felt a smirk of my own fall on her as I stopped just a foot ahead of her.

“No plans.” I held myself back from yelling about phone numbers again. All of this guessing and not knowing was such a waste of time.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. I don’t know why.

“Good.” Her usual control slipped back as she placed her purse on the table. Just as she had last night.

Her gentle eyes lured me in to tick off the list in my head. Hug and invite in that order.

I changed it up this time around and did something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.

Finally, I let my head fall into the top of her chest and wrapped my arms under her own.

Her arms responded instantly wrapping around me firmly. Her cheek fell against the top of my head and I couldn’t help the way I nuzzled closer to her with a content sigh.

It could have been a shiver I felt ripple down the back of her neck, but I doubt it was.

The fingers that held a special place in my head started skating softly across my back.

I swallowed a noise that almost rushed out. An indecent noise.

“How was your day, darling?” She asked softly, fingers still running against my back.

“Just another day. Nothing bad, nothing worth doing a backflip over.” 

I was careful of every syllable that came out, worried I’d let a groan slip from the feelings she was tracing into me.

She laughed lightly.

“How was yours?”

“Annoying.” Her sharp tone changed for the next two words. “Better now.”

It felt unhealthy the flips she was regularly making my heart do.

Reluctantly I pulled away and walked to the couch gesturing her to follow.

I sat in the same spot as last night hoping she’d do the same. She did.

“I’m buying dinner.” She turned to me after the statement. “What are you in the mood for?”

I shrugged as she pressed her leg further into mine. 

“I’m up for whatever.”


“So, escargot and caviar?”

I figured it was just to tease, but I couldn’t help the disgust it scrunched on my face.

Agatha laughed and got up walking over to her purse. When she turned back I nearly flatlined.

A pair of glasses rest on the bridge of her nose now as she scrolled on her phone. I forced my jaw to close as she walked over.

She sat back down next to me completely unaware of the toll it was taking on me.

Her left leg crossed over her right, the back of her calf now resting across my knees. My eyes traveled down her leg and back up to her face.

Her gaze remained on her phone.

I found myself struggling to breathe. My fingers flexed and tensed wanting to reach out and touch her. I felt trapped behind her leg and I didn’t mind.

I knew it was probably likely she could see me staring out of her peripheral. At the very least she could certainly feel my fiery gaze on her.

The glasses were all I could focus on. They were plain and simply, so fucking hot.

“There.” She said locking her phone.

Her eyes dragged up to mine as I was trying to reel it in. She stilled upon meeting my eyes, head dropping as her fingers pushed the glasses farther down her nose.

It was perfectly evil the grin that took over her face.

She knew.

There was no way she didn’t know.

She brushed her leg against my knees. “Everything okay?”


Oh my god she definitely knew. The way she asked the question sealed it. Still I had to try and pull myself out of it.

I cleared my throat still unable to take my eyes off of her dropped gaze.

“Yes. I’m fine.” It was the most unconvincing thing I’ve ever said in my life.

She nodded, smirk unchanging if not deepening.

“Okay.” She removed her glasses, hands tucking the arms in and resting in her lap. “Food will be here shortly.”

My eyebrows pinched in. “Did you actually get snails?”

She laughed again head falling to the back of the couch. The vein on the side of her neck was poking out.

“No, don’t worry.”

She rolled her head on the couch to gaze at me.

She was just fucking perfect.

Her hand reached over to me stilling my heart. Her finger snuck behind my neck and under the back of the chain she gave me. Her pointer rolled underneath the necklace and over my skin untucking it from my shirt.

“Here I was thinking you didn’t have it on.” She said it low, head still on the back of the couch.

I looked down as her hand fell back to her lap.

“Yeah, I just tucked it under. I’ve always thought jewelry looked weird on me.” I admitted honestly with a chuckle.

“It doesn’t.” She looked at me like, well how I imagine I look at her sometimes.

I nodded feeling a blush creep in forcing me to look away.

Her leg still lay over both of mine, pressed into them warmly. After a brain breaking hesitation, I reached out resting my right hand over her knee.

I didn’t look over to her, but she didn’t seem to protest it. I brushed my thumb on the top of her knee cap. Adrenaline rushed so fast underneath my skin it was dizzying.

Wordlessly I felt her shift next to me. In a blink her head fell to my shoulder. It spurred me on to squeeze her knee gently. A sharp breath pushed off her lips across my neck.

We sat in the silent unspoken until the delivery came. She pulled away slowly when the door bell rang.

I stood up as she answered the door. Answered the door at my house, like it was totally normal.

I reminded myself I needed to ask her to the party as I watched her. She had a very perfect way of distracting me.

To my surprise she turned away from the now closed door with a pizza box.

“What can I get you to drink?” I asked her as she carried the takeout to the table.

“I could go for a glass of red tonight, if you have any.”

I puffed out some air and walked over to the wooden hutch I kept my liquor on.

“The bottle from last night was definitely the most expensive I had. Might be a downgrade from that.” I admitted grabbing my personal favorite cabernet.

“I might have mentioned that I’m not picky.” She was closer now. “I’ll even take boxed if that’s all you have.”

I laughed popping the cork. “I’m usually not that bad.”

Her hand pressed to my back, now hovering next to me as I poured two glasses. The wine pour turned a bit sloppy. She didn’t comment on it.

“For you.” I held out her glass turning into her.

“Thank you.” She grabbed it and turned dropping her hand from my back.

“So…pizza.” I said walking over to the table.

She hummed smiling as she sat. “I tried this for the first time a year ago and I’ve been hooked. The ingredients change with the seasons.”

“Cool.” I shook my head. Cool? What the fuck kind of response is that.

I sat down next to her at the table as she held her glass up.

“Cheers.”

I smiled at her and clinked my glass into hers. “Cheers.”

After a sip I took a bite of the pizza and yep. It was easily the best pizza I’d ever had.

The invite to the party nagged in the back of my head as we ate.

We finished up and moved back to the couch. I decided to ask her quick in case she decided to do something like put her leg on mine again.

“Hey.” I fiddled with the throw on the back of the couch. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

I looked up to her patient eyes.

“So every year we uhm, we have a holiday party. Everyone that has a business on the strip get’s invited.” I cleared my throat trying to stop my leg from bobbing. “It’s just a casual thing. Everyone brings some friends and family. We have it downstairs after closing. Just was wondering if you’d want to come?”

I turned back to her having looked away halfway through my spiel. Her silence and unreadable expression had me spewing words out again.

“You can say no obviously. You won’t like hurt my feelings or anything, it’s okay. It’s also this Thursday which I know is last minute. We do a gift swap. Fifty dollar limit. So if you wanted you’d have to get a gift which I still have to get mine. We’ll have food too. Everyone brings food so you could eat? It’s fine though if you don’t want to go. I know you’re busy and maybe hate the holidays so it’s okay.”


A shushing sound eased out of her mouth. I froze remembering the dream in which she did exactly that.

“I’d love to go.” Her leg fell over mine again as she said it.

It took far too long for my brain to process what she said. “Oh. Good.” I nodded when I finally caught up.

“What time on Thursday?”

“Five, an hour after closing.”

She pushed in a little closer, head leaning on the back of the couch again. Her scent and warmth tucking around my senses.

“Maybe I’ll have to come early. Help get everything ready.”

I smiled, heart hammering as I nodded.

Reaching her hand up towards me, she rested her hand to my cheek. My eyes fluttered for just a second as I pushed into it. Her thumb brushed back and forth.

I tried to remain calm as she watched me. I knew I looked completely swept away to her touch.

Her eyelids blinked heavy and slow as she held my gaze. She pulled away, swiping the side of her pointer finger down the bridge of my nose.

I felt on fire.

“I should go.”

I nodded afraid my words would betray me. I wanted to beg her to stay just a little longer.

She stood and I followed. She surprised me at the door and pulled me in for another hug.

Her right arm strapped across my shoulders as her left hand held the back of my head. I let her hold me up as I sunk into and round her.

“I’ve got a bit of a busy week. I might not be around that often.” As she said it I held her tighter. She continued. “I might not see you until the party.”

My chest ached at the idea of it.

The hand pressed to the back of my head moved, trailing her nails from the side of my scalp to the back gently.

It was barely there. Almost just an excessive breath, but it pulled some sort of noise out of me. I couldn’t fight it and the both of us paused any movement after it. I was glad my face was hidden in her shoulder from how hot it was getting.

To my relief, after a brief few seconds she did it again pulling me tighter across my shoulders.

Agatha Harkness was going to be the death of me.

Daringly, I dragged my right hand up to the back of her head and trailed my fingers up and down softly through her hair. The hum she let out was long and low. My stomach tensed at the warmth it shot through me.

She pulled back abruptly leaving me chasing her as she backed away.

She reached up and grabbed my chin between her finger and thumb.

The grin she wore was diabolical, shooting right through my entire body. She brushed my chin with her thumb before dropping it and turning to grab her bag.

I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just watched as she prepared to leave.

My thoughts were clawing to break free as I remained silent. I wanted to kiss her right up against the wall. Drag her to my bed just several feet away. Feel her skin under mine. I held back a noise of protest as she opened the door.

“Goodnight, darling.” She said it over her shoulder.

“Night.” I mumbled out staring foolishly.

A knowing look rest on her face as I fought to try and say something more. She let out a breathy laugh and walked out shutting the door behind her.

I felt a wave of embarrassment letting her see how much she broke my brain.

I watched her as she pulled out of the driveway.

I’d hoped I would see her before the party. If anything just to redeem a little of my dignity.

[thatlongspringnight]

Unrestrained Echoes (Caleb/MC)

Couple: Caleb Xia/ MC

Word Count: 3785

Content Warning: Smut, tooth rotting fluff, yapping, they are in a grave yard

Summary:

“You’re such a bad girl.” He teases, his breath so hot against your skin, you shudder. “Saying all those things here. In a cemetery! Who raised you?” and you gently smack at his shoulder. “She’s right over there, don’t be mean!”

It starts off as a date idea, and a silly one at that - you’ve made it a tradition with Caleb, once a month you go and visit grandma’s grave…and then you take a detour to his. 

Sometimes it’s just so you can stare at him, that you can realize there is nothing there, under that headstone, throwing yourself into his arms and letting him remind you that he is real, that he is alive and his heart is still beating under your touch. 

And sometimes it’s so you can - very dramatically, mind you - talk to his grave, while he watches, snickering as you air your problems about him, to him, in front of him. He protests, every now and again, saying it’s rude to bring up grievances with the dead - but at the end you end up giggling, tugging at his cheeks, just so happy he is with you. 

Tonight, it’s late, very late, and you’re watching a meteor shower. Sprawled out onto a comfy blanket, and curled into the crook of his arm. 

You’d planned on watching from the balcony of your place, before Caleb reminded you the light pollution would ruin it.Then you had brought up going out to the country, but he had simply tutted his tongue and reminded you the last time you did this, you were kids, and it was with grandma. 

And so to the cemetery you went, saying hi to her before he slyly remarked that his headstone is a better place to sit, with a better view of the stars.

“I thought you wanted to watch it with Grandma?” You elbowed him in the side, and he laughed, pulling you close. 

“She’s here, we said hi, I think she’d appreciate the gesture.” He shrugged a little, already marching off towards his headstone. “And anyway, I can feel her glare any time we get to cuddling. She always wanted you to end up with ‘Doctor Zayne’.” And you had watched him mimic the fawning way Josephine used to talk about him. 

“Grandma just didn’t…” You paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. “She didn’t realize the depth of our feelings.” And you nodded to yourself - yeah that’s a pretty good way to put it. Better than saying that Grandma didn’t want you being in love with and having sex with the boy she raised as your older brother.

Oh well, you sighed. As much as you miss her, you know if she was still here…neither of you would have been brave enough to go this far. You shot an apologetic look towards her grave, before grabbing Caleb’s hand, entwining your fingers and swinging your arm. 

And she would be happy you're both happy, you're sure of it. Caleb is taking care of you, like he always promised her…and now you get to stand by his side, you get to take care of him too. 

“Why're you so quiet?” He murmurs, here in the present, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Don't tell me you're falling asleep, pipsqueak.”

“Not a chance.” You huff, shifting to look up at him, to catch his sweet - adoring gaze. The starlight makes his eyes almost shimmer, galaxies laid bare for you…and you alone. “I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous.” he snickers and you huff, swatting at him, just for him to grab your hand, drawing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss there. 

“Ugh, how am I supposed to be grumpy with you when you are so sweet.” And he grins, a wolfish flash of his teeth before pressing another kiss, just a little lower, to your wrist. 

“You aren't.” He says cheerfully. “You're supposed to always forgive me, even when I'm being big dummy Caleb.”

“Where is your hundred-year forgiveness coupon?” You ask him, reaching to pinch his cheek, rewarded with the sweetness of his laugh. 

You wish you could capture the moment of his genuine smile, of his sweet laugh - and hold it forever, keep it those weeks where he's gone with the fleet, or when you're gone on missions. 

“There is that look again.” His smile shifts to something like concern. “When you're thinking of things that make you upset -”

“I just….ugh.” you shake your head, reaching to grip at the material of his shirt, letting your fingers slip under the fabric so you can nervously rub circles against his skin. “It sounds stupid because you're here , you're right here with me.” And you shift so that you're pressed as close as you can be to him, your leg hooked over his, and your hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat. Here he is, alive and breathing, and full of concern as he looks up at you. “I miss you.” You grumble, like admitting it is a chore. “Preemptively. You're here, but I'm already missing you, thinking of when we are apart again.” You don’t know how else to say it. “When you leave…when you aren’t here, all i can think about is this place. Where I thought you left me.” 

“Pipsqueak.” And Caleb sighs softly,  shifting you so you're sprawled on top of him, his arms around you. “D’you want me to tell you you should focus on thinking about right now, instead?” He isn't teasing now, he can tell your mood is serious. “or….D’you want me….to admit that i’m always missing you too. That��.after I left, all I could think about was you, and how I had left you…How I had left you all alone.” There is regret there, even as He's gently stroking at your cheek with his thumb, and cradling you against him. “I think about you, about leaving you, and about coming back, down to the minute.” And his nose brushes yours as he kisses you softly. “And when we aren't together, all I want is to be with you.”

“Maybe it's because I'm staring at your grave.” You sigh, pressing your forehead against his. “I'm…I'm - I just feel like there will never be enough time. I lost you once, after all.” It’s a bit petulant, in the way you can be with him, as you lightly pound on his chest. “I can’t…I can’t lose you again.” And he sees right through you, you know it, sees past the childish fit, to the heart of it. To how terrified you are to lose him, to end up in a world where he is gone, where he won’t come back to you. 

“I'm right here.” He reminds you, grabbing your hands, to bring to his heart, to feel it thrumming again, to feel the fact that he is alive. “I'm here now, and I'm alive, I'm with you.” His purple eyes are so soft, so sweet and you kiss him. Because you can, because he’s here, and he’s alive and he’s yours. 

The miracle of it, that he would be with you, isn’t lost on you, and as soon as he lets your hands go, you are moving them to cup his face. 

“Big dummy Caleb.” You mumble, and he pushes himself up, taking you with him. “Hey- “ and now his back is against his grave stone, and right behind his head you can see the picture of him, the one you picked to memorialize him…from his DAA graduation. 

A picture you had snapped of him, looking so handsome, so happy. Before…before all this. Before the explosion, before the fleet, and before that damn chip - 

“This is more comfortable.” His voice shakes you from your thoughts. “And I can hold you closer.” Which he does, squeezing you tightly, till you whine, the dark cloud above your head lifting just a little at his antics. “That’s better.” He whispers against your ear. “I just had to squeeze out a bit of your sadness, Now I need to find something to replace it with.” 

“With Caleb.” You answer him, dropping your voice a little low. “I want you to replace all my sadness with you.” and your hands drift down his chest. He’s so firm, and so warm underneath your touch, and you can feel the pit in your stomach - where dread is being replaced with something altogether more…Carnal. 

Its heat swirling just under your skin, a coil you badly want to break. The best way to be reminded that he’s here with you - when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“You…” and you can see the way his Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, just a quick movement. Just enough to clue you in. “Here, are you sure?” 

“Here…” and you lean forward, your mouth against his ear. “Should we put on a show for grandma?” You have no idea why you say it, but once it’s out, Caleb’s eyes are wide, and then narrowed, a heavy breath leaving his lungs as he grips at your arms.

Not painful, but strong. Strong and sturdy. 

“That is…you are really something else.” But he sounds eager, wanting, like he always is for you. “Are you really sure?” “Ask me that one more time, and we will be going home.” You huff. “And not to…to do that either.” One of his worst habits in your opinion, it's like he can’t fathom just how much you want him, and how you want him…literally all the time.

“One of these days you’re going to have to just get over it and say the word.” Caleb snickers. “You’re a big girl, right Pipsqueak? You’re a grown up.” And okay, he wants you to fight him, you think to yourself, scowling at him.

“You - you think I can’t say it?” you ask him. “Seriously?”

“I mean…you still haven’t. Are you worried Grandma will hear?” He says, his eyes full of mischief. “Are you a coward - “ “I am trying to - to fuck you. Here, in a cemetery, at your grave.” You blurt. “Fuck, have sex with you, copulate, have intercourse, make love - “ and he silences you with a heated kiss, one of his hands tangling in your hair, pulling it free from the scrunchie you had keeping it up. 

“You’re such a bad girl.” He teases, his breath so hot against your skin, you shudder. “Saying all those things here. In a cemetery! Who raised you?” and you gently smack at his shoulder. “She’s right over there, don’t be mean!” and it’s joking, a way to overlook the trauma of it all - at least for you. The more time passes, the more complicated you realize Caleb and Josephine’s relationship was. Both united in a love for you…and not much else.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Caleb is kissing you again, lips warm, and you grin when you taste the lip balm you gave him on them. “Focus on me.” He trails kisses along your jaw, then into the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking in a love bite.

“Ngh - Caleb -” it's a whine, soft and sweet for him. “Be gentle.” “We both know you don’t want that.” That timbre in his voice, God he makes you feel weak in the knees. “Always beggin’ me to be gentle, then demanding I be rough. You’re so bossy.” His hands slip under the cozy dress you had popped on for this adventure, meeting the pretty lace panties you were wearing. “What’s this? Did you plan this whole trip for mischief, Pipsqueak?” He asks.

“I know a certain Colonel of the farspace fleet likes to see meteor showers.” You very coyly raise the material of your dress, revealing what his hands are touching. “And I also know he likes it when I wear pretty lace panties.”

Before you realize it, he’s got you scrambling to grasp onto his grave stone, his fingers rubbing your clit through that oh-so pretty lace.

“Then you also know that the colonel likes it best when they’re soaked.” His teeth graze your ear and you shiver, the feeling of his firm chest pressed to your back making you almost as dizzy as the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. “Gonna make you cum in these - “ “So you can keep them?” You are panting, gripping at the cool stone. “So Colonel pervert can use them to get off when he’s on long missions?” 

“Colonel pervert, eh?” You can feel his hard on pressing against your ass, and he’s shameless about it, bucking his hips against those panties. “That’s a new one.” and he is slipping your panties to the side just enough to slide his fingers into your cunt, to grind his palm against your clit.

“Ngh - Caleb - !” 

“Nope, Caleb isn’t here right now.” He leaves another mark against your neck, this one enough to make your eyes roll back at the feeling of his teeth, of his mouth hot on your skin. “Just the colonel - punishing his naughty aide.” 

“Does the Colonel want - hngh - “ and you shift, pressing your ass against his hips. “Does the colonel wanna fuck me for being such….such a bad girl?” and heavens above, the sound that leaves his mouth will haunt all your wet dreams from here on out. “Is that my punishment?” 

“Haah - we need to work on your understanding of what a punishment is.” with every thrust of his crooked fingers, you feel stars burst behind your shut eyes. He knows exactly how to work you over. “Generally speaking the other person shouldn’t like them.” 

“But I-i - oh -  love it when you touch me.” You counter, your breath and words stuttering as you try to talk through what he’s doing to you. “So I guess you aren’t doing - ah - you aren’t doing a good job of punishing me.” 

“You’re the colonel’s weakness.” Caleb’s words are softer now, even if his touch isn’t. “And Mine too. So I’ll always let you off easy.” Yeah, you think to yourself, trying to hold on for dear life to his literal gravestone while he fingerfucks you into oblivion - he isn’t exactly letting you off easy right now. 

And the sound, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed from the squelch of his fingers inside of you if you weren't actively grinding against him, seeking out more - more of him. 

“You -” he grunts, and he's bent over you, his free hand wrapped across your stomach, both to hold you closer and to keep you from falling over against the grave stone. but whatever he's going to say is lost as you clench around his fingers, gasping his name as you cum. 

And he's always one to let you ride it out, his touch softening immediately, not keen on giving you more than you can handle before he's had the chance to properly handle you. As soon as his fingers slide out of you, you're whining, but it's harmless, just the feeling of the loss of him making you shift, circling your arms around his neck as you slam your lips against his. 

You nip his bottom lip and he obediently opens his mouth, letting you taste the remnants of the apple soda you shared earlier, and the soft mint lip balm.  he is panting when you finally pull away, his cheeks flushed, the soft sounds of his breathing making you fond. How can he….how can he make such pretty sounds?

“Caleb.” And your hands are grabbing at his belt, quick to undo it and shift down to the button, the zipper. “You drive me crazy, you know? Whenever…when you make those sounds. I just want to - you sound so pretty.” You decide against telling him you want to lock yourself in his room with him, and never leave his bed.

“Pipsqueak -” his cheeks have darkened, and he has to clear his throat. “You always say that -’

“And I always mean it.” You slide a hand up his cock, eager and not at all gentle, rewarded with a whimpered hiss, his hand grabbing your wrist. 

“Rough -” he pants and you shoot him an innocent look from under your lashes. “Don't try and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” He says and you simply lick your palm, going to touch him again, just for your hand to drop to your thigh, his evol freezing you in place .

“Caleb -” but he's hoisting you up, met with your whining as he shifts behind you. “But I wanna see your face -”

“Nope. That's for when you're being a good girl.” And it's a fun little game you think, this banter between the two of you. 

And you reach to grab the top of the stone, resting your upper body against it as you look back at him. 

“I'm such a bad girl, Caleb, what are you going to do about it?” You grin, snickering as he groans, rubbing a hand across his forehead. 

“Right now?” And he loops his fingers into your panties, tugging them down. “Right now I'm going to fuck you till you behave…or at least I'll give it my best shot.”

“Mm, I want a shot of you, Caleb - ngh!” Before you can even bask in your funny joke, he’s inside of you, all the breath leaving your lungs as your brain short circuits. He didn’t give you the usual slow slide, where he was sweet and gentle, but the burn is delicious like this, your nails digging against stone as you try to hold yourself up. 

“Mm, it already made you quiet, at least.” His hold on your hips is bruising, and you hope it leaves marks - that it leaves his fingerprints to tide you over when he’s back in Skyhaven. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm, trying to muffle your sounds with your hand as he slams his hips into yours.

No mercy - that thought is hazy in your pleasure addled brain. 

“Why’re you covering your mouth?” He asks, smug. “Are you worried someone will hear? Is it Grandma?” And you gasp at that, tossing a look back at him, just to catch his gleaming, mischievous gaze.

“Caleb! Ba~ad!” Every time he thrusts into you your breath stutters, a shiver working its way through you as he traces the curve of your spine with his fingers, pushing your dress up as he does. 

“Caleb is bad.” He agrees. “Caleb is absolutely terrible.” He punctuates each statement with a - with a slam of hips against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you. “Caleb is the worst.” “C-Caleb…Caleb is the best.” You counter, eyes shut tight, your body just so full of him. “Caleb is my favorite.” It's stammered and stuttered and punctuated by whimpers you can’t control. “Ca~aleb!” and okay, you can’t help how loud you’re being, he isn’t leaving you a choice. The way he’s fucking you, the way he just…

He knows your body best, knows you best, knows how to leave you breathless and begging for him. His sharp, quick thrusts that fade into languid strokes only to speed up again, the way his hands roam your body, conscious of the places that will have you wiggling away, and those that will have you whining for more. 

“I love it when you say my name like this.” He reaches an arm around your stomach, pulling you up. ““You should only ever call out for me, pipsqueak. Only I get to have you like this.” and now that he has you pressed against him, his chest against your back, you can turn your head, begging for a messy kiss he’s eager to give you. 

All tongue and teeth and torturous desire. His free hand sliding up your dress to cup one of your breasts, fingers pinching gently at the nipple. 

“Mmmph!” You whine against his mouth, pulling away just to look at the glistening trail of saliva that connects you to him. “Bully. As - As punishment, hurry up a-and make me cum.” and he gives you a little smirk.

“You keep forgetting what punishments are, I’m not supposed to enjoy doing it.” But he’s already shifting his hands so he can rub circles around your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Your wish is always my command.” 

Now he is everything. Your every thought, every neuron in your body tied to him, just to him, all encompassing and divine. You resonate with him, without even having to try, in this moment, your pleasure bleeding into his, so that you can feel him tensing, something that sounds like your name leaving his lips.

But you hardly hear it, hardly hear anything but the unrestrained echoes of your pleasure across the cemetery as you cum again, dragging him with you - the explosion of heat spilling from your core, till your thighs are dripping in him. 

And you are sure if he wasn’t holding onto you, you’d be flat on the ground, face first in the blanket you brought, but instead, his hand is gentle as he grabs your chin, tilting your face up. “Look” He murmurs, pointing up. 

You’re greeted with the meteor shower at its peak, streaks of light shooting across the night sky. You’re entranced, letting him gently maneuver you back onto the blanket, your panties disappearing into the pocket of his pants…after he cleans you up with them. 

Then, once he’s fixed his own clothes, he's laying beside you, letting you gently play with his hair as you watch the universe’s mysteries unfold just above you, just for the two of you. “I was worried we’d miss it.” He yawns. “But look at us, we finished with perfect timing.” Caleb, your heart is fond, Caleb, always looking to the sky, even with his feet planted firmly on the ground. “Mmhmm.” You snuggle against him. “I could sleep here, you’re going to have to carry me back to the car, if I do.” 

“I figured as much.” He chuckles. “As much as I would be happy to oblige, I don’t like the idea of you falling asleep on a grave, Pipsqueak.” and he’s gently coaxing you to watch the stars, hoping the flashes across the sky will hold you enough to keep you awake.’Even if it’s my grave.” “Well, then you shouldn’t have made me see stars before there were stars to see.” You attempt another bad joke, rewarded by him groaning, laughing as he calls you corny, letting the two of you fall into comfortable silence. 

 “Is it all you hoped it would be?” Caleb’s voice has gone soft and sweet, unaware that your eyes are on him, not the stars. “Better.” You try to memorize the shine in his eyes, the childlike wonder and hope as he looks up at the night sky. This is your favorite version of him, when you both feel safe, when you’re together.  “More beautiful than I could have imagined.” 

[yandere-fics]

Miriel Stonewood

♡ "Baaabe, please I'm sorry I hit her. Please forgive meee, then we can go home and cuddle!" ♡

She's a delusional crybaby who prefers to go the manipulation route, not that she's incapable of violence but it takes away time she could spend with her mate plus she's a nepo baby so why would she do hard stuff when she can use her connection to ruin other peoples lives. She will still get into fights sometimes though. If her darling isn't paying enough attention to her she's whine and scream and cry at their feet until they tell her that they love her too but she's quick to forgive you if you show her a bit of attention. She believes her darling loves her like she loves them so if they say otherwise they're just being excessively cruel to her, or someone put them up to it.

♡ "Babe, it's mean to pretend you don't know my nameeee… Miriel Stonewood! My village was a bit small so personal last names aren't necessary but if you wanttt I'll take your last name when we get married!" ♡

Her village is on the smaller side but is considered one of the more powerful elf villages apart from the ones literally run by the elf gods, those are in their own league. Hers is still on par with them despite their small size so if they got just a few more elves they'd probably dominate that area. Elves rarely have children though because elf children take a very long time to age, no one wants to raise an infant for more than half a decade. Least of all Miriel because she actively does not want kids.

♡ "How old am I? Elves age a little bit different than humans babe so I'm 123, which based on your age would be roughly 20! Don't worry though, I won't outlive you or anything if that's what you were worried about!" ♡

Forest elves take roughly 6 years for every human year of growth and are released to see the world at 150ish but due to Miriel being the daughter of what is essentially the king of her village, she was let out early since she'll have to return home and be queen at some point. Out of the village her aging is speed up ever so slightly but even then it's not by much because she's a very healthy elf. Humans upon meeting their mate often take on their aging property as well so if an old human met their mate who was only supposed to live five more years, they'd probably squeeze at least three more decades even without their mate having anything on top of that to keep them alive even further.

♡ "Babe please don't ask me about other crushes, you know elves only wait for their mates!" ♡

Miriel has never felt attracted to anyone outside of her mate because from a young age she knew roughly who her mate would be, of course she has found other women pretty when she was much younger but she mostly got used to the elves around her and they started to seem somewhat natural to her, now she only really find her mate attractive in the slightest.

♡ "Babe, I really don't want to talk about work, it's so annoying and my boss is so mean. I'm getting tired of these questions, can't we just cuddle and talk about something more pleasant? I really don't want to get upset with my mate!" ♡

She's an envoy and diplomat for her village, she works for the boss's migration sect of the company and helps elves settle in to the city and helps make sure they can find and claim their mate which can be very tedious work when she also has to make sure to write down which people now owe the boss a favor and how big that favor is. Her village also isn't accessible unless invited in so sometimes she has to return home to inform them of things. She mostly remains in the city though. She's very good at her job despite how lazy she is with it.

♡ "What do I like? Obviously you, babe. What else could I be interested in, you're my soulmate, I waited my whole life for you. Uhm besides that, humans are so gullible sometimes, it's funny." ♡

She doesn't have a whole lot of hobbies besides shopping and thinking about her mate. She likes you a lot and she likes when she punches someone and it draws just a little bit of blood, if the first punch doesn't make them bleed then she'll just have to do it again.

♡ "I hate my jobbb… it takes me away from you too much. It's so unfair, the boss must not have her on soulmate cause if she did then she'd know how hard it is to be pulled away from you!" ♡

She doesn't like how you haven't fully fallen for her or accepted that you're hers, she'd like to be able to drag you back to her village with her but that's difficult when you do mean things like make friends or spend time away from her.

♡ "Oh uhm, well I guess if I have to say one ability I have, it would be how good I am at loving you but that's to be expected honestly babe." ♡

Most of her talents just seem natural and unimportant to her. She's above average with a knife and fights in general but not easily able to kill people, she knows a lot of things about the forest and nature, she grows plants in her apartment cause she feels like she'll die if there's not some greenery and she's pretty decent with poisons and dosing people. She isn't likely to drug her darling but she could if she had the incentive.

♡ "I love you so much babe, I'm so glad you're mine, now please forgive me so we can go cuddle." ♡

[boolger]

“You can’t be angry at your sister foreve-“

Wrong. Behold, my castle of bitterness, holding grudges and anger! I am the queen of this and she has been declared my sworn enemy. I will be a petty, angry bitch for the rest of our lives and I won’t apologise for it. I will not trust you. She may LEAVE.

[raven--stag]

Soo uhhh has anyone figured out how to erase the bathroom scene from your memory?

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[dior-luxury]

Hi! I really like your headcanons! I was wondering if I could make a request for sebek, azul, jade, trey, and rook? Or whichever you want! The prompt: they forget they had a date with you and stood you up accidentally

Accidently Standing You Up On A Date

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff/drama - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] trey . azul . jade . rook. sebek

- [𝐩:𝐬] nothing rlly

Note: Thank you so much for enjoying my hcs!! ＞︿＜

Trey Clover

Trey is usually responsible and dependable, so when he realizes he completely forgot your date, he feels a wave of guilt wash over him. It probably hits him when he's in the middle of baking or helping out with a club activity, and suddenly, it clicks: he was supposed to meet you an hour ago.

Panic isn’t usually Trey’s thing, but right now, he’s scrambling. He quickly wipes his flour-covered hands, grabs his phone, and sees several missed messages from you. His heart sinks. Trey knows he’s messed up big time, and he doesn’t waste another moment.

Rushing over to where he was supposed to meet you, he spots you sitting alone, looking a mix of sad and disappointed. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before approaching you.

“Hey...” he calls softly, guilt heavy in his tone. As you look up, he’s already beside you, his usual calm smile tinged with regret. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I completely lost track of time. I know that’s no excuse. You must have been waiting for a while.”

Trey would be the type to offer a heartfelt apology without making any excuses. He’d carefully listen to you vent your feelings if you needed to, never once interrupting or brushing it off. When you finish, he gently takes your hand.

“To make it up to you, how about we go out right now? I’ll take you anywhere you want—no distractions, just us. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. And... I’ll bake your favorite treats tonight. Please let me make this right.”

Trey’s sincerity and his gentle, caring nature would shine through. You know he genuinely didn’t mean to hurt you, and seeing him so remorseful makes it hard to stay mad for long.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prides himself on his organization and punctuality, so when he realizes he’s missed the date, his reaction is a mixture of disbelief and sheer panic. Maybe he got caught up in an overwhelming amount of work at Mostro Lounge or was drawn into an elaborate scheme. Whatever the reason, once he notices, his stomach twists painfully.

He fumbles for his phone, muttering curses under his breath, and when he sees your unanswered messages, he nearly drops it. Azul’s mind races, already imagining the hurt expression on your face. He feels sick with guilt, but Azul’s pride prevents him from sending a rushed apology text. No—he needs to do this in person.

He fixes his tie and tries to compose himself, but his nerves are shot. When he finally finds you, he hesitates, seeing the disappointment in your eyes. Azul straightens his posture, but there’s a rare, unguarded vulnerability in his gaze.

“Angelfish... I have no excuse. I failed to keep my promise, and I know I’ve hurt you. I cannot begin to express how regretful I am.” He pauses, voice softer. “Please, allow me to make it up to you. I’ll do anything you wish. A special evening at Mostro Lounge? A dinner prepared just for you? I just... I can’t stand knowing I’ve made you feel this way.”

Azul’s usual eloquence is laced with genuine worry. He hates feeling powerless, and the idea of losing your trust makes his chest ache. He’s prepared to offer you anything, but what really matters to him is hearing that you forgive him.

Later, he’d spend days planning something extravagant—a private dinner at the lounge with a dish named after you, symbolizing how important you are to him. He’d also be more careful about balancing his commitments, never wanting to repeat the mistake.

Jade Leech

Jade is usually composed and meticulous, so forgetting a date with you would be unusual for him. It likely happens when he’s out exploring the mountains, captivated by a rare mushroom species, or when he’s helping Azul at the lounge. Time tends to slip away from him when he’s fully absorbed, but the moment he remembers, his eyes widen just a fraction—an uncharacteristic break in his calm demeanor.

Jade takes a moment to assess the situation, letting out a small, almost amused sigh at his own mistake. Despite his outward composure, he feels a twinge of guilt. He quickly makes his way to the agreed-upon meeting spot, already calculating how to smooth things over.

When he finds you, his smile is warm but slightly apologetic. “Ah, there you are, my dear. I must apologize—it seems I lost track of time. I didn’t intend to keep you waiting.” His tone is calm and sincere, but he’s carefully observing your reaction, those heterochromatic eyes studying every flicker of emotion on your face.

If you express your disappointment, Jade’s smile softens. He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours. “It’s quite unlike me to be forgetful. I must have been too engrossed in my tasks... but that’s no excuse. Allow me to make it up to you. Perhaps a private dinner at the lounge? I’ll prepare something special myself.”

Jade is surprisingly gentle when making amends, and though he’s skilled at charming his way out of situations, this time, his apology is genuine. He doesn’t want you to doubt his intentions, and he’ll be extra attentive during your rescheduled date, showing that he values your time.

Rook Hunt

Rook is often poetic and passionate, but his passion can sometimes lead him astray. He probably gets caught up tracking a rare beast or observing the beauty of nature, completely losing track of time. It’s only when he notices the setting sun and the quiet of the forest that it hits him—he was supposed to meet you an hour ago!

Immediately, his heart pounds with both excitement and guilt. How could he, the ever-attentive hunter, forget his most beloved prey—you? Rook rushes back to campus, all the while crafting apologies in his mind. When he finally finds you, his face lights up with relief and regret.

“Mademoiselle! Mon trésor!” he calls out dramatically, dropping to one knee as he takes your hand, his green eyes sincere and almost pleading. “I have committed a most grievous sin! To leave you waiting, unknowing of my whereabouts—it wounds my heart! Forgive me, for I am but a fool who let himself be enchanted by the wild’s siren call!”

He listens attentively as you express your feelings, never once interrupting, and when you finish, he holds your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Your forgiveness would be a treasure I would cherish. Allow me to make amends! I shall devote myself entirely to you for the evening—whether a serenade, a meal, or a grand hunt! Whatever your heart desires, I shall deliver!”

Rook’s apologies are grand and sincere, and his poetic nature makes it hard to stay upset. He’s genuinely remorseful and will likely spend the rest of the night showering you with affection and compliments to make you smile again.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek prides himself on his loyalty and punctuality, especially when it comes to his duties—or anything related to Malleus. So, when he realizes he missed your date, it’s like his entire world comes crashing down. He was probably caught up training or attending to Malleus, and when he remembers, his reaction is explosive.

“What?! I—IMPOSSIBLE! HOW COULD I—” Sebek’s voice booms as he panics, his brain trying to comprehend his mistake. He’s frustrated with himself and mortified at the thought of letting you down. Immediately, he sprints to the meeting place, not caring about the curious stares from fellow students.

When he finds you, his loud presence precedes him. “HUMAN! I—” He stops abruptly, seeing the hurt on your face, and his usual loud demeanor softens, his ears lowering slightly. “I... I failed to keep my word. There is no excuse for such negligence. You have every right to be upset with me!”

His fists clench at his sides as he struggles to maintain his usual proud posture, but you can tell he’s beating himself up inside. “I... I was training. I thought I’d be back in time, but I was careless. I do not deserve your forgiveness!”

If you tell him how you feel, Sebek’s frustration with himself only grows. “To fail both you and my own standards... I will accept any punishment you deem fit! But... I will not let it happen again! You are important to me, and I should have prioritized our time.”

Sebek would spend the next few days making up for his mistake, offering to accompany you everywhere, carrying your belongings, and trying to be extra attentive. He doesn’t quite know how to express affection as gracefully as others, but his efforts to make it up to you are both endearing and earnest.

[aestatismors]

I'm just going to post the summary vent as I write things out

[lovscb97]

tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc

wc: 15.76k

add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]

nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons / drabble #1

. . .

it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.

regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.

that is, until now.

you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—

chan.

but, not just chan, no no.

chan with another girl.

it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.

but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.

your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.

it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.

you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.

allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.

your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.

“y/n?”

a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.

“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

you think maybe that’s best for now.

. . .

it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.

grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—

oh fuck.

“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—

“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.

what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.

unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.

karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.

fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.

because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—

the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.

your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.

you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.

it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.

oh, how the tables have turned, you think.

“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.

white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.

chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.

“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”

“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.

“listen, i—“

“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.

“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”

it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.

“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.

“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“

“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.

“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”

you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.

“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.

moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.

it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?

now, he’s definitely never going to be.

. . .

“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.

practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.

“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.

“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.

what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.

“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.

you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.

even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.

it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.

your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.

“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.

you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.

you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.

it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.

was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?

he did.

you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.

he cared. he had cared.

he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.

before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.

beep. beep. beep.

please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—

“the number you have dialled is..“

it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.

chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.

he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.

. . .

the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.

by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.

it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.

the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.

upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.

observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.

with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.

y/n.

your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.

y/n. y/n. y/n.

“y/n!”

your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.

..could it?

you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—

chan.

it’s chan.

chan is here.

“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.

“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“

“you came.”

chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—

“you called.”

that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.

chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.

“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.

he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.

“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.

“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.

“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”

that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—

“i love you.”

…what?

your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.

“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“

chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.

your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.

when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—

“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.

“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.

“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.

“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.

chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—

“let’s get out of here.”

. . .

by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.

“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.

“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.

“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.

“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.

“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.

“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.

“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak— 

“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him. 

“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat. 

his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.

chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.

“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.

your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.

“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down. 

“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.

“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him. 

a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes. 

“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.

this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words. 

“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.

“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell. 

chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish. 

because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.

“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.

“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.

“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible. 

“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly. 

your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway. 

“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment. 

sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now. 

“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.

“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.

“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.

chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you. 

“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.

“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation. 

a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it. 

“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.

on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes. 

“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible. 

“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly. 

“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“

now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.

“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe. 

“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan. 

“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly. 

“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[nieranddear]

I know it was probably supposed to be to be in tags but I soon realized that it just Couldn't possibly fit so... here is a whole 3k+ word semi structured ramble on the matter [being Ayin and what the hell that man is] and my own thoughts on him. I hope you’re fine with it

Sympathetic, yes. Excused and able to be seen as a saint or the sort where his actions are 'justifiable' or that he is a 'good man'? Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. How about a Monster? Easily a flat out no. Does that make him a horrible person or ‘bad person’? I can’t say for sure as the definition of both depends on who you ask, but in mine it he isn’t a ‘bad person’. It would be far easier to be able to call him a bad person. A Monster. But he isn’t. He’s a person with numerous sins and blood on his hands but ultimately he is just a Person. Human. Painfully Human. Mind you, I've only played Lobcorp. Nothing on Ruina so perhaps my opinion may change. I will say this first. Just because he expresses guilt and remorse, just because he actively shows and expresses care for those around him in forms to where it was true and unfiltered [Abel “ Fatigue and Waiting” meltdown, Abram “Regret and Atonement” meltdown, day 40 literally deadass] it doesn't mean shit to those he hurt if he, Ayin, the man at his core, doesn't go ahead and attempt to Make It So his wrongs are even somewhat put right. Which he does. In a way that I’ll talk about in mixed feelings later. It doesn't resolve him of the 'sins' or his faults. But he is so so painfully Human. Which is why I do like him, as a character at least, and can feel sympathy for his plight. Just because one feels sympathy doesn’t mean that the person they can feel it towards is ‘clean’ or doesn’t hold ‘sin’ or, in a way that sounds less pretentious and used more commonly in the internet, ‘unproblematic’.

Perhaps the main problem with him is that he never did Stop. A huge thing when revolving around him. Not looking back, refusing in a way and unable in another. Be it in needing progress, to a want to achieve the goal he sees entrusted onto him from, seemingly, a woman he joined the project for and solely for as “...She wanted to save them, and guide their souls back… to dedicate herself to save humanity. Yet I, who held no such ambition, had to continue her legacy” [Day 50]. No such ambition to save humanity, for he “Lost [his] heart” and had known for a “very long time.”. Yet he didn’t stop and continued to carry her will and bring the Project to an end and was determined to do so by any means necessary For Her. Be it by not turning around to look at the bodies along his path or the fact guilt holds so heavy on his body he doesn’t look to see such a thing [Elijah, Binah's story [4] "And what happened to that coward? The one who with fear averted his gaze from my dying one." “Erasing your memories and running away from them as if nothing happened is your age-old specialty.”, Day 40 and the existence of the cognition filter in the first place and the response ‘Can you stop the recording, please?’, Abel on Day 47 “Yet you did not care to witness his final moments.”]. Or dulling himself to the atrocities he gradually grew and tumbled down into as the domino chain kept falling and the thorns along that past never subsided, getting even more grueling of a path to endure as time went on. The part that has me struggle to pin him as a ‘mastermind’ or the sort is the fact he Does express that guilt and remorse and even acknowledgement for his faults and acts.

Even though I did say it ‘didn’t mean shit’. Yes, to those he hurt it doesn’t, yet it doesn’t automatically disqualify either side’s pain. You can’t just go ahead and decide that one person’s suffering isn’t able to be taken into account solely due to the fact they also inflicted pain and hurt. Even if you don’t agree nor forgive, it still Does exist. If you shut out another solely due to the fact of personal vendetta or general hate you’re still silencing another. Yes, you can have an opinion but completely disregarding another, even if you did deem them ‘horrible’, is still Disregarding Another’s Feelings and Pain or even how they got to that point. He is someone that holds care. Yet he is also someone who did some unforgivable shit. Which is fine to not be fine with. But focusing on one side, that part of ‘Cruelty’ or part of ‘Affection’ without acknowledging the other is still ignoring the facets of the man. Which he has many of. He is someone that shows remorse and has a whole struggle with existing which can be seen in the later days. He is someone that can be seen calling it what it is. [Abram’s mentioning of them becoming “cruel” “We destroyed everything while holding her warmth in our hands.” Abram in his entirety even if the words are soaked inside guilt and self-hate it’s still aware of the actions, of day 50 and in its entirety “As you can see, we’ve become just like other Wings, committing atrocities just like them. The employees here have repeated hundreds upon thousands of deaths… My friends were robbed of their lives and trapped in this cycle of agony… All while I just sat and watch, justifying it all as the means to realize her ideal. This sin shall never be forgiven.”, Day 47’s “You realized how innocent, talented souls of young persons were trapped into machines by your hands, haven’t you?”] The idea of ‘Well why didn’t he Just stop? Just Notice it then? Not Do all of these heinous acts? Why didn’t he talk to Michelle and not experiment on Giovanni? Why didn’t he not force the procedure on Gabriel and not turn around and be safer with the key and with Elijah?’ It’s because he’s Human. He, Ayin, is a man shown to not stop at any means to realize a goal. Ayin is a man who doesn’t seem to be able to stop in his own mind, as shown before, and also a man who quite literally Didn’t Realize at the time what would happen with Elijah and Gabriel. Of the hazy specifics on the experiment with Enoch which was voted for as they didn’t want to lose their ‘binding light and ideal’ Carmen [Who is ultimately Human I love Carmen but this is a post about Ayin]. A man good with machines and the scientific part of things, methodical in the creation of a script, yet lacking inside the aspects that relate to the emotional response [See the ‘Old Lab’ as I don’t quite know the name so that is what I’ll be referring to it as with Michelle, Gabriel, Elijah, the lack of words to Daniel in the end, hurting the heart of the man that stayed by him to the end where he left as well. The obsession and drive for the project causing those nearby him to die. For the drive to get results and progress on research to complete the goal causing him to also be blinded by that and finally directly have blood on his hands with Giovanni not including the self blame of ‘driving her to her death’ (Paraphrased) with Carmen.] It’s only after the fact and after he is forced to stop [The Project halting in a way and the loops taking place over years and years] or after the fact itself [The talks from A when a Core Meltdown is about to happen and after it does is known to be after the fact though the actual time of realization is hazy, either it be directly after the death or awhile after, but it doesn’t matter as it is a realization that occurs after the tragedy happened] does he realize the mistakes and faults when looking back. [This can also be seen in Abel in his entirety. “We were too naive. I could only realize what wrongdoings we have done after transiently passing all these years.”]

It’s the fact he is self-reflective in the terms of knowing his faults after the fact, the fact he punishes himself [Loops, Binah [4] “Why is he down here suffering the same punishment as I?”, Day 35, Direct calling of this as a ‘Prison’ multiple times.], the fact that even still he persists for the wish of another when wanting to “Fade” and “Be forgotten” [Day 47,  Hokma Story 5, the elaborate farewell that is day 50, the desire and want to “Fade away without a trace” seen inside the Final Days and Hokma’s Story 5], the fact he sinks so commonly into the pit of guilt and regret [Abram in his entirety huge emphasis on Abram and his existence, Day 38 “It was also my role to butter you up with plain words, to help you avoid sinking into the pit of guilt”, Day 40 Again.], the fact he tries to rectify his mistakes and still pursue the goal of another, all for another [Day 43 “ I did not approve of you placing the Sephirot here. However, you told me that your atonement and the awakening of the Sephirot were key to the untying of this knot I lie in.”, the fact he sees himself as a core cause of Carmen’s death and feeling as he needs to complete her will in a way because of her no longer being there, the whole facility being ‘Penance’ mentioned by Adam who is a whole other thing that is fairly simple yet wordy to even talk about]. Ayin is a Man. Not a monster. Nor a genius manipulator that pulled every single string for his Script brings the ‘play’ to conclusion and the Project to its end in that part but still neglects various this [being emotional/mental aspects which is a common thing with him. That and completely lacking Angela in the end without her ever getting a conclusion in his script. STUPID script by the way]. He’s a Man who, when running to a goal, wouldn’t look back and almost in a way couldn’t for he had to bury that emotional response to be able to bear it all. A man who, inside his grief, is seen and stated to be is irritable and irrational [Snow Queen entry, Day 31 “If a ray of sunlight breaks your heart and collapses your mind with longing and nostalgia… And seeing plants outside evokes an unknown rage, tearing down your rational thought… Then we have no choice but to stay underground”]. A man who acknowledges himself [Abram] that he isn’t “normal” nor sane. A man who saw that he needed to bury his emotions underneath rationality and for his goal and who, scarily, started to become numb and apathetic to the acts the longer they went on. Became numb. Those actions that instilled fear, as it was stated to be fear, slowly happening again and again and causing the numbness. Just… the entirety of the Final Days and especially day 47 on this specific matter. Lobotomy corporation is a wonderful game I adore but it doesn’t know the word ‘subtly’ in any manner of speaking. If it wants to communicate something, it’ll say it upright. Which makes it a bit more confusing when some words may be seen as deceitful . Yes, it’s a good thing to think about the intent behind the words, but also just the plain style of how the story is delivered doesn’t make much wiggle room as it ends up plainly laying it out to the reading. It’s Very Clear on it. You see the struggles of the Sephirot, and then it is mirrored inside A, Ayin, himself. That’s how the game is also literally structured. Needing those answers from the Sephirot who mirror his own agony and struggle  in order to tell those resolutions and resolves he saw inside those people to the fragments of himself.

I totally understand why people would hate him or dislike him as a character. He's hurt so many people and taken so many lives. Done things seen as 'too far' which, yeah, absolutely can see that and I'm not excited to learn about how exactly the rest of this City functions as well. Do I believe him to be a monster? Nothing of the sort. All of his struggle stems from the fact he is so rawly Human. Do I believe he needs to be forgiven? No. No. I don't believe he should be for his actions. I don't think he Needs to be forgiven. I think they need to, his faults, be addressed. In fact it feels weird when people just forgive him for it all. He, himself, states something of the like on Day 50. He's left so many with wounds and scars that won't heal. Hurt the hearts of those nearby him and left until there was none and then only Angela which I’m not well equipped to talk about as from what I’ve heard LOR discusses her own journey and pains. But I feel as if saying he's a ‘monster’ completely ignores the other parts of his character which Are There. He’s not a messiah or anything idealized, nor is he without fault, nor does that pain and guilt erase everything. He's a person who is stubborn and adamant on achieving something when he goes ahead and dedicates himself to a cause. He’s someone who doesn’t communicate and whose face is commonly flat most of the time and seen to be in the memories at the least [Hokma, Gebura story, Day 50 expressions]. He's someone who held such love in his heart as I tend to point out in other parts and get stuck on, they used ‘Loved ones’ to describe the others. He’s someone who fully felt as if the will to live and exist died the moment Carmen did, as if his life held no meaning, as if dependent on her [Day 47 stated, shown in practice further Day 48].  He’s someone who used justifications and passing things off in the sake of a goal that he clings to as it was one of the only things he had left of Carmen at that point, especially since it was a request asked of Carmen herself. Justifications for numerous amounts of agony and torment. Grief that shrouded his actions in pain and irritability and cruelty. Yet a man who also still holds himself accountable and hates himself for feeling unable to protect those people who he considers dear to him. A man who deems himself and his existence as "very wrong". "Wrong from the start."

It feels as if some people are reluctant to bring up aspects of him? Brought up before it feels as if a layer or aspect of Ayin is taken and then the other parts of him fall to the wayside. Not quite sure where to go with this but it's a thing that feels as if it occurs. I say feel for I can't find any actual concrete examples so I won't say 'notice' or that it 'totally does happen!' so I'll leave that thought as this small section since I can't elaborate further

Ayin is Fucked. Absolutely, thoroughly. Yet in a way that the patterns and rationale for being brought to that point is understandable of How. I can’t find it in me to look for sources right now but from what I remember it’s as if Carmen was his only source to strive for. A blinding beacon that wasn’t like any other who had an earnest wish to save and support those inside this hell hole of a City that so easily seems to cut down and devalue life. One stated to be of survival where fear needs to be consumed to continue on living. Of one so focused upon advancements where the idea of empathy has degraded, systematically at least in that stand point. Endless continuation stepping over the bodies of others. Yet Carmen was always said and shown to be so vastly different. It feels as if he kind of clung to her in a way. As if a whole part of him physically Died the moment she could never smile anymore. Almost extremely dependent. It's easy to see how a man so attached could end up doing such things if it seems as if the person he felt took his Being away when she died asked it of him. Do I think that Ayin was doing this completely inside of how she would’ve wished or wanted? NO. She literally states herself that her goal wasn’t to become a wing yet L corp ends up as a wing for reasons relating to the monitoring of the Head. One of MANY examples, the other being the, oh I don’t know, numerous amounts of bodies they had to step over with. Perhaps the "Unique cruelty unable to be found in any other wing." Yet it's also stated that Ayin’s very heart is described as a void where the pieces of a heart used to be or something along those lines. That he shows a crushing and suffocating amount of guilt for everything. That he closed his eyes and ears to everything to become numb. Yet a facet of himself still basically berates and Knows deeply and regrets for if he didn't why the Hell would Abram exist? Yet, again, this brings into the fact that just because he regets it all and shows remorse and a want for repentance if he doesn't actually end up doing something relating to it or even communicate it to others it, on its own, won't 'Mean' much. I say 'mean' as emotions do, even if not communicated, have weight. But also this is a man who had done horrific, heinous shit. Let's see some Change, brother, come on man stop getting stuck inside that cycle and idea of the inability to move forward or change the past actions you also hate and the path you took that stripped you away of what could be considered your 'humanity'. Learn to. Well. Live. Live with it, too. Which is a whole thing they're trying to get people to do. Live. Not just survive. Practice what you want to bring forth and preach, man. Even if it were for the sake of another. Do it for her...

[Next part is from souly the perspective of someone that has yet to Play LOR but will soon.]

On the idea of how they handled him at the end of Lobcorp…. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I HOPE. I HOPE that they bring him back. Not in a way to where he has to be an active figure, but more of to where he can’t just fade away or forgotten the way he yearned to. I want that fucker to face what he has done. I don’t want him to be able to fulfill the Seed of Light Project and that’s it. There’s so much he has to atone for. It feels almost cheap to just have it seemingly stop at day 50 the way it did. I Want him to be able to atone [not to be confused with needless and endless berating for it will get nowhere]. To try and own up to his actions. To be that ‘better person’ he so deems himself incapable of being constantly. To not ‘Fade’ like he so wants to and actively yearns for and that want to die. No one has to forgive nor forget. I don’t want that shit to be swept under the rug so doing such a thing would feel flat. Gaping wounds he left behind hadn’t ever been fully addressed. The Sephirot found their reasons and ability to keep going in the Company but never really any active repentance or show of remorse Directly To Them by Ayin. Hey, big problem with Ayin, He Doesn’t Communicate Or Express when he is feeling things. One of the only reasons we as the viewer are even able to sort him out internally is because we see it all from His View. God I just HOPE that they do something more with him. They made a character that encompasses all of the struggles and pains of the others, yet not just used as a narrative device for ‘hey, get better and push on! Face your past! Confront it and even if you can’t find the ‘Answer’ or ‘Reason’ to now, just the ability to change and face and bear it is a start to even begin to Live!’ I know it was likely due to time constraints or how the game itself is structured. The days system that’s limited with the further details on Ayin and Carmen being crammed into the later parts after the rest as the lower layer seems to be implemented near the final parts when they actually added Carmen as an entity entirely from what can be reviewed and recalled at the moment. Either way, I really want him to finally not be a bitch when it comes to the others and actually start expressing that love he so feels for the rest by Doing something for Them. Instead of it all just being the project or bringing them back which was, indeed, a goal they all wanted but it was also done by the huge drive to finish Carmen's dream and will. Not for the Sephirot themself though perhaps there was also a drive to do it for them but I cannot say as it was never stated from what I can remember. I want him to do something, anything for the people he forcibly brought back. For Them. To Them. Directly. Hell, even him having to go ahead, even after seeking to fade ‘fading’ actively, to try and build up something be it physically or mentally to give back to the world he took too much from and caused so much pain to would be nice to see. It won’t make it better nor will it ever erase what happened, but it will be Something. Finally.

There are many parts I missed. Still so much I want to talk about. But I’ll stop here as this already is so much. I hope it’ll be at least somewhat interesting or informative to try and help with your curiosity on the matter

Tl;dr. Ayin. I love him because of his various parts that cannot be separated that make up the whole of this man I can't stop myself from being enamored with. I mean parts mentally and literally. I'm getting the ice pick for him to make this a REAL Lobotomy Corporation

probably going to regret asking this, but I want to know what the vibe is:

I know opinions are gonna be very complex, just choose the answer closest to what you feel. explain in the tags if you must.

And only choose "played LobCorp" if you've actually played the game, any level of completion. "haven't played" covers other ways of experiencing the game, like let's plays, wiki reading, secondhand knowledge from later entries, etc. I want to specifically understand any difference in opinion between those who have/have not played.

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 07. An explosion of emotions

PREV PART trigger warnings: anger, medical + emotional neglect, shouting, Reader loses their shit because Jason triggers their fight and flight, mental breakdown, mentions of wanting to die, basically a very angsty and dark chapter misgendering (Reader isn't out yet), introduction of a dc character main m.list           series m.list

Ignorance is bliss, and you wish you kept that ignorance. After Maria sent you an article that has been logging Penguin crimes, you just couldn’t help but research them obsessively as you walk back to the manor.

You wince as you see a mugshot from your supervisor flash by. Yeah, you are closing this article and forgetting everything you read. The job pays well, and when you get into university you’ll just quit and get a job or two on campus. It will most likely be shit pay, but at least it wouldn’t morally weigh on you. “Just until you can move out,” you mumble as you open the front door. “and the colleagues are kind…”

When you walk through the door, there was Jason, you try to ignore him. Swimming in your thoughts, yet to notice how impatient he has been, how irritation was brewing in the air.

“You and I are going to have a chat about your behaviour towards Alfie,” Jason says, snapping you out of your thoughts and your eyes snap up to his. You could feel your heart start to pound, why was Todd speaking to you. “and before you refuse, we are going to the park.”

He looks irritated, but his eyes aren’t that glowing green. They are dull, not the vibrant colour that haunts you every time you close your eyes. “...No…” you assert, picking the skin around your fingers, your posture slumped and you look terrified. “I see no need to go anywhere with you, I see no reason why you would need to speak to me about my behaviour.”

He just sighs and shakes his head. “My god, I suggested a public area, we need to talk because you’re a disrespectful piece of shit. Stop being a---”

“No. We don’t, and you are the piece of shit! I am just done taking everyone’s bullshit.” you interrupt, your tone harsher and your stance more confident than before but you still look pathetic to Jason. You still look like the same teen he beat up that day, sure your eyes are harsher and your body is littered with scars he gave you. But you are still the same pathetic child clingy to the memories of your mother. “You have yet to show remorse for your actions after all these years, I will never be alone with you again.”

He scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he could deny that the apology was insincere, and he still feels little to no remorse. He sighs; “It was years ago, grow up.”

“Why don’t you fucking grow up!” you suddenly shout, throwing your bag on the ground. The echo of your shout loud and you could hear doors open. “You beat up a child! I was barely a teen and you still can’t fucking apologise! You still can’t look me in my eyes and admit what you did was wrong! None of you can! I was attacked by my supposed brother in my own room!” You could feel your muscles tense as your pain intensifies, anger is a painful emotion to have. But to hold it in is even more painful. “You destroyed most of what I had left of my mother and her family! Why?! Because you were jealous that Bruce took in his recently orphaned biological child?!”

You step closer to Jason, your eyes are scaring him, you look like you are in pain. But at the same time you look vengeful. You look like you’ve been pushed to the limit. “You don’t understand,” he hisses, stepping closer to you. He won’t be intimidated by a civilian.

“Then fucking let me!” you shout, basically spitting it out. Your nose flaring and your hands shaking. “You all tell me that I don’t understand, yet you all tell me that I have to forgive and forgive as you tear my heart out! And I am done! I am finally getting my life together, finally taking the next steps. And now you suddenly want to talk?! But you still refuse to explain?!”

You laugh, it was hysterical. If Jason didn’t know the laughs of the Joker, intimately, he would compare them in a heartbeat. Without thinking he grabs your arms, trying to force you away from him. Your siblings were watching the fight, he didn’t want to turn around to see Stephanie, Cassandra and Barbara. If he did, he would see their confused faces. He would see how they don’t understand your anger, and he would see Tim finally telling them the full story. A story that Cassandra had deciphered from just your shouting. A story that made it seem like you were in great physical pain.

“None of you have any rights to my time!” You shout, trying to get your arms lose from Jason’s grip. “And you have no right to touch me!” But Jason still didn’t let you go, you want to keep shouting, you want to shout at him until he let’s you go. Until he realises what harm he has done to you. Until your whole family finally realises all they’ve done, why did Tim seek you out? Why couldn’t Alfred just leave you be?! Why couldn’t you just keep your anger hidden until you were gone?! “Stop touching me, I hate you. I wish I died that day! I wish I didn’t have to live like this!”

You weren’t even shouting at him anymore. You were shouting at all of them, you were shouting about everything they’ve put you through. But you were also finally letting out the emotional pain your illness has given you. You’re shouting to the heavens, you are shouting to whoever will listen. You are shouting because the pain has finally become too much to handle.

The straw that breaks the camel's back has finally come.

You’re like a bucket overflowing with water, you are full of emotions that Jason had never seen you express. The only time he has ever seen you shake like this was that day, oh gods, what has he done?

You’re broken in ways he will never understand. You are in pain, and he’s the reason why. You are slipping, you’re breaking down and he doesn’t know what to do. “Step away from them,” he suddenly hears Duke’s voice, a boy that Bruce had recently thought about adopting, a meta that joined their ranks. Wait, is he calling her, them? “before I knock your teeth out.”

Jason steps backs in shock, his hold of you disappearing, but you didn’t even notice. Your hands going up to your shoulders as you start scratching. Oh my dear, you look crazed, you look as if you belong in Arkham Asylum. And Duke, he looks like he knows you. “(Name)” Duke whispers, trying to get you to stop scratching yourself. It almost seems as if you were trying to scratch away your pain, and by the gods, you were attempting to. Your fingertips bleeding, your eyes full of tears. “I am here, it’s Duke, your lab partner, what can I do for you?”

“I need to die,” you whisper, your eyes snap to his. “can you kill me?”

“You know I can’t,” he whispers, brushing some of your hair out of your face. Carefully making sure that his fingers don’t get tangled in your hair, if his fingers were to do that you would panic even more. Your mind would set you back even more, at least now you seem partly lucid. “but I can and will listen.”

You choke on a sob, and tears start streaming down your face as you slowly stop scratching. You barely know him, and here he is in your home (for whatever reason unknown to you), offering his ear to you. “What’s going on?!” Jason whisper-shouts, staring at Dick for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to act, not with the slimy feeling in his chest. Not with this voice in his head whispering that this is all his fault. Dick stares at him and mouths; ‘I have no idea’

But you ignore it all.

“You promise?” You ask Duke, your eyes show how scared you are to be hurt. Your body language defensive. Black spots were slowing clouding the corner of your eyes.

“I promise.”

And with that you close your eyes.

NEXT PART Notice how I was in a dramatic mood here?

taglist: Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways (is there a limit with tagging people or something???)

[raven-dor]

me and my husband

In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader

WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

🎶 : me and my husband - mitski

AN: I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back in his chair, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times. 

Instead, he sat in his office. 

She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.

But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband. 

“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly. 

“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.

“I am not inept.” 

“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing the back of her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?” 

“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”

“And you?” He kissed her hand once more, his tone softer than before. “How do you fare?”

She was taken aback by that question, avoiding a direct answer entirely. “Do not worry about me.” 

“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.” 

“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the chair's armrests and pushed herself up. Gwayne glared. 

“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.” 

“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”

“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.” 

Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and all humor once held in her tone vanished. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.” 

He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.” 

“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.” 

He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-” 

“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.” 

“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.” 

She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.” 

He grinned. “I am glad of it.” 

The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragged behind her as she strolled along the frequently traveled path. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying.

There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.

“Y/N? Where are you?” 

Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.” 

The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?” 

“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is the perfect day for it.” 

“I woul-” 

“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.” 

“Well, perhaps if-” 

“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.” 

Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”

The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot against the stone floor, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded.

But those questions never came. 

“My lady.” 

Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?” 

“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?” 

She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”

She gave one last glance at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties. 

Who was she to worry him anymore?

Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?” 

“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?” 

She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.” 

He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.” 

If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled out. She laughed, her eyes watering ever so slightly. “I do not think that is possible.” 

Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment. 

The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her lips. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the very same ceiling. 

It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free. 

He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe. 

She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently. 

 Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Pulling on her deep green robe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance. 

After learning of the news, she'd picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous. 

In a way, it had. 

The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate. 

“My lord.”

Her attention was drawn to the threshold of the hall, smiling for a moment at the sight of her husband.

He looked angry, stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?” 

“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?” 

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.” 

She felt horrible leaving him, she could admit. And fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe over her. “I am sorry if I scared you.” 

“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?” 

“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.” 

“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.” 

Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-” 

“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.” 

She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.” 

“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.

She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."

"Y/N...."

"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” 

She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-” 

Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”  

“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared of the argument she was caught in the middle of. 

Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.” 

“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.” 

She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-” 

She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.” 

He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.” 

“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!” 

The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically leaped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-” 

“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face. 

That had been three days ago. Other than the meals they shared or meetings both were forced to attend, she had steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he would be in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family. 

The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, caressing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?” 

A kick. 

Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.” 

No kick. 

She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.” 

A kick. 

“I miss him too, my love.” 

A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?” 

Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-” 

“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” 

So he had heard.

She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.” 

“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.” 

She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” 

“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?” 

“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.” 

“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms. 

“Shall we go to bed?” 

“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.” 

She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself. 

A knock rang out. “May I come in?” 

She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, his eyes bearing into hers, she knew she would begin crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” 

“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”

She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.” 

“Do you still love me?”

Her heart stopped. “I-” 

Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.” 

She turned around in his arms, placing her hands on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.” 

“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?” 

“I do not know what you-” 

“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?” 

“I am simply nervous.” She could not be in his arms any longer. The more she lingered in his embrace, the more compelled she would feel to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”

“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke. 

“That’s not all, is it?” 

She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.” 

Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?” 

“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.” 

“What choice, darling?” 

She whispered. “Between me and the babe.” 

“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.” 

He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.” 

“No one is truly irreplaceable, Gwayne.” 

He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.” 

“I-” 

“Swear it, Y/N.” 

“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.” 

He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.” 

“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.” 

“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She frowned. "I truly am sorry.” 

“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?” 

She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.” 

[words-4u]

healing hands - f.l

pairing: frank langdon x nurse f!reader

wc: 1.2k

a/n: a lil rusty after a year and a half of not writing so forgive me but i am so pitt-pilled. love this show soooo much

the PTMC is sometimes one of the best places to be. every shift is full with fresh faces and most often than not, people getting a new lease on life with life saving/changing surgeries but other times, like today, it's the last place you and your fellow practitioners want to be... and yet you push through.

"okay jason, you're gonna feel some pain but it will be over before you know it," you say to the patient sitting across from you. it's an easy case, a late twenty something came in with serious shoulder pain. you were able to diagnose it off of first glance.

"what like now, here?" the look on his face made you smile. "trust me you'll be fine."

you scoot over on a stool with wheels.

"got a girlfriend, jason? boyfriend?" you ask as you take the affected arm, putting it on your shoulder.

"single but dating in pittsburgh is hell," he winces.

"on any apps?"

"tried tinder but i'm-- AAAHH," he yells out. you pushed down on his arm and realigned into his socket. his eyes almost fall out of his head when he whips his head over to you.

you try to mask a smile.

"hurts less when you don't expect it," you say apologetically.

as you take off your gloves robby walks over. "y/n, need. any help?"

"nope, just a shoulder dislocated which i just corrected. jason here just needs a brace and some ibuprofen for the pain," you say with a smile.

"good, can i talk to you for a second?" robby motions his head over to an empty hallway.

"of course," you say. "hey, princess, can you finish this off? just a brace and ibuprofen."

"got it!" princess says, continuing where you left off.

you walk off with robby. he stops you placing his finders on your elbow.

"how are you?" he asks, more sincerely tis time.

"good as i can be. what's up?" you notice his small smile turn into an uncomfortable look.

"robby, what's going?"

"listen, i know i'm not supposed to know about you and frank but he needs you right now," he says in a low tone.

"i- okay," you manage to say. how else do you respond to your boss saying he knows about your secret, clearly no-so-secret, workplace romance. "um... langdon, w-where is he?"

"ambulance bay. i sent him outside to get some air,"

you nod. "okay, thanks robby," you say moving out of the hallway and trying to making it outside without running.

the ambulance bay door opens and you are hit with the cool evening air. you whip your head around trying to find your boyfriend until you see it, two feet on the back of a parked ambulance.

the shuffle of your feet alerted him to our presence. he sniffles trying to wipe the tears off his face, he stops when he sees it's you. his eyes soften but voice still rigid.

"shouldn't you be with a patient?" he asks.

"i was. robby told me where you were," you softly. "frank, what happened?"

"it's nothing, really, i'm okay," he says and you both know it's a lie. his still covered in blood.

you move closer to him and without saying a word you reach your hands around his neck and untie the white disposable surgical gown coloured with dry blood. you scrunch it up and put it to the side.

"i know you don't like to talk about these things, that you think keeping it in is somehow better... but i'm here, frank." you say taking a seat next to him. you place a hand on his knee, stroking your thumb up and down.

for a moment you just sit there listening to him catch his breath. frank langdon's not one to share his hardships. you try your best to coax it out of him but you've learned he'll share what's on his mind and heart when he's ready.

"she was young," he began. you look at him, ready to take on the sadness that was weighing on him. "not child young but mid to late 20s. it was her fucking wedding day"

you fully take his left hand now holding it between yours.

"she came in with her husband, blood all over her gown. it was liver failure and i tried... we tried everything, did all the right steps. we intubated, we got her more blood, reduced her ammonia levels and it was looking good for a while until..."

frank gets choked up again.

"she had cerebral edema i was so focused on what i could see that i wasn't paying attention to thing i couldn't. i didn't see the full picture,"

"hey, no. no, frank we don't do this," you say. "we don't blame ourselves for things we can't control."

"i could've saved her, y/n, she died on her wedding day. her husband is a widow at the age of 30 because of me," the hurt was clear in his voice.

"if she succumbed to her brain injury that quickly there was nothing you, nor dr. garcia or anyone could have done to save her," you say. you see him nod slightly but he needs more convincing.

"look at me," you say softly. "hey..."

you take your fingers and move frank's head to face you. "you're one of the best fucking doctors i know, okay? i don't have to have been there to know that you gave it your absolute all just like you do for everyone who walks through those doors seeking help. you have healing hands, frank, but sometimes it's just out of our control and we have to live with that. you know this."

he nods more definitively this time.

"i just kept picturing you," he says honestly and you're slightly taken aback. "i know i shouldn't have but i couldn't help it,"

"i'm here... and i'm okay," you say moving even closer. you loop your arm through his and lay your head on his shoulder. your fingers laced with his. "you're not getting rid of me that easily."

frank chuckles. "yeah, i guess you're right," he kisses your head before resting his head on yours.

after a moment, you ask, "…who the hell told robby about us?"

you feel frank still under you. you pick your head up and face him with an accusatory look. "frank..."

"we were in the lounge together last week and he maybe saw a glimpse of my contact photo for you when you called," he said super quickly.

"the one of us in bed?!!? oh god, my boss knows what my sex hair looks like," you put your head in your hands, very embarrassed.

frank laughs. like a real belly laugh. and while you were still mortified at the though of robby seeing that picture, it was even better to hear him laugh like that.

"i'm glad my trauma bring you pleasure," you joke, slightly shoving him.

frank leans in and whispers, "that's not the thing of yours that brings me pleasure,"

this time you laugh, "shut up," you say cupping his face pulling him in for a kiss. frank tries to deepen it but you break away.

you get up from the back of the ambulance. "c'mon, lover boy. you got lives to save."

you hold out your hand and he takes it.

"we got lives to save," he says back to you, finally getting up.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 12

Summary: Wanda deals with the aftermath of your breakup.

A/N: This chapter is focused on Wanda. Big thanks to @a-cat-on-titan for an idea that made it on a part of the fic :)

Aint no mountain high enough

Ain’t no valley low enough

“Ain’t no river wiiideee enoough” Wanda dances around the kitchen, singing.

It’s never quiet around the house. There’s always music, or drilling or hammering. Because she’s taken into making (badly built) furniture. And pottery. And yoga.

To anyone else, it may seem like Wanda’s living her best life.

But Pietro’s not just anyone.

His sister is running away from her feelings, keeping herself busy just so she doesn’t have time to miss you.

“Oh, morning. Want anything for breakfast?”

“I’ll make something later, thank you” he refuses the offer, feeling better and finding his movements to be more confident after another month in physical therapuy. “How did you sleep?”

“Children, we’re late for school!” Wanda ignores him. That’s the one thing she can’t do. Sleep. She’ll rest for a few hours, but as soon as everyone’s asleep, Wanda gets too anxious. Her only solution is to put on a pair of headphones and paint or do pottery or anything else until it’s 3 am and she’s too tired to think.

Or dream.

“Billy, where is your soccer bag? You boys have practice after school!” Wanda says, trying to look for it. Kids, always misplacing everything.

“I don’t wanna go to soccer anymore! I already told you” he protests. Pietro looks up, prepared for another argument.

It’s been happening since you left.

“Sweetheart, you love soccer!”

“No, I don’t! I only liked it because Y/N helped me practice during the weekends and it was fun. I’m not going anymore”

With that, he leaves the house and heads straight to the car, slamming the door. Wanda knows he’ll be crying on the way to school and will refuse to hug her goodbye, the same way he’s done every day for the past month.

“Tommy, grab your stuff” the woman says, trying to pretend everything’s fine.

Unfortunately for her, the twins don’t let her pretend, showing how hurt they are and how much they miss you.

It’s just a phase.

“I have a meeting with Laura, I’ll come back later” she says goodbye to Pietro, hoping the car ride can be a bit better.

“Ok” is all he says, frowning.

There’s only one way to fix this. He just hopes his sister will find a way to forgive him after finding out what he did.

—

Laura is waiting with coffee and some biscuits. She’s always looking at Wanda anxiously, waiting for the moment that everything will finally collapse and she’ll feel all the things she’s avoiding.

So far, nothing.

“Hey! Oh, the boys are being so difficult lately. How did you manage with Cooper?” Wanda always walks in with a monologue ready, which never gives Laura the chance to ask her how she’s doing.

“I don’t know. I mean I don’t think that was a difficult age for him” she grimaces, thinking whether or not to tell Wanda this has nothing to do with age, and everything to do with her breakup.

“Is this the book? Oh my God, it looks amazing!” she changes the topic, knowing where the conversation is headed. As she opens to read the first pages, her smile fades. “Well, we need to get rid of that”

That as in, the dedication. The words that were written for you. Because you helped with the book, with taking care of the kids, with encouraging Wanda.

This was supposed to be a gift for you. Like the first book Wanda ever wrote, and she dedicated to the twins. And so on with every one of her family members.

You were the last piece of the puzzle. And she had hoped that someday she’d dedicate the next one to a baby girl. A daughter that looked just like you.

“Wanda…” Laura says, noticing the cracks in her friend’s perfect facade.

“Anyway! I have to go do some grocery shopping. I���m making coq au vin tonight”

“Do the kids eat that?”

“Sure!”

Of course they don’t. But chicken is too fast and she needs to be distracted and have a lot of dishes to clean and keep her mind occupied.

“Well, this is a first prototype. Once I speak with the publishing company we’ll get a date for the release” Laura says. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Never been better” Wanda lies. “See you later, Laura”

Of course, the trip to the grocery store is not enough to calm her, not when there’s a woman wearing scrubs, looking exhausted and trying to figure out which baking powder is better.

“This one’s good if you want to bake cookies” she says, finding it hard to look away. “Sorry, you didn’t ask”

“No, that’s fine. Appreciate it” the woman nods, grabbing the one Wanda suggested and walking to another woman that is also wearing scrubs. They chat as they walk to the register.

Now Wanda regrets talking to them. What if they used to work with you? What if they tell everyone they saw her and she was being a weirdo talking to them first?

Worried about running into someone else, she hurries up with the shopping, and practically sprints to her car.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down. She forgets about the radio, until it begins playing.

One of your songs.

Wanda doesn’t have time to change the station, getting a call. She doesn’t really notice who it’s from, wishing nothing more than to disappear.

“Miss Maximoff? This is Tommy’s teacher”

Ok, that will distract her for sure.

“Is he ok? Are he and Billy…?”

“We’re gonna need you to come to the principal’s office, please”

—

A fight.

His sweet, wonderful boy getting into a fight. Well, that was a lie. And no one was going to mess with Wanda’s children.

“Sweetheart?” she approaches her boy, sitting outside the Principal’s office. His clothes are dirty, and his hair is full of weeds. “Who did this to you?”

“Miss Maximoff” Principal Coleman says, ushering her inside. “Please, sit down. I know this is pretty much new to you. Your kids have good grades, the teachers love them… but I’m sorry to tell you Tommy got into a fight today”

“Oh, but… he is the sweetest kid. I just can’t imagine him hurting anyone”

“Well, according to Daniel, Tommy was the one who started it” the Principal says, leaning back in her chair.

“Ok, why don’t we ask Tommy about it? Hear his side of the story”

“I already did but if you’d like to, be my guest” the woman says, standing up to open the door for Tommy. “Go on, tell your mom what you told me”

“I started the fight” Tommy mutters, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry”

“Are you ok? And Daniel?”

“Daniel only got a scratch on his arm. Look, this is a first time incident and Daniel’s parents were very understanding, so I’ll let you take the kids home and figure this out. But if it happens again…”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Principal Coleman. And you said, to take both kids?”

“Yeah, Billy’s pretty upset about it” the Principal says, opening the door for them. “He’s at the library waiting for you”

Wanda walks next to her son, her mind racing. This has never happened, there must a logical explanation. She tries to keep her cool, but when she sees Billy sitting at the library, pulling nervously at his hair, she feels like a girl again, lost and confused.

She doesn’t know what to do or how to make things better.

“Billy, let’s go home” she says, waiting for him to walk out. The boy avoids her eyes, rushing past them and running straight to the exit.

“Mom” Tommy says, but she’s too overwhelmed.

“Later, Tommy”

The ride home is silent. Wanda doesn’t even play music, holding on to the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

You’d know what to do to make it better.

But now you’re gone.

She barely has time to park before Billy runs out of the car, opening the door and going upstairs.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Wanda says, still in the driver’s seat. Tommy looks away, shrugging his shoulders.

“Daniel was mean”

“That’s not an excuse to hit someone, you know better than that, Tommy” she scolds him. “You’re grounded, go to your room. We’ll talk about this later”

He steps out, his head down. Wanda is waiting for him to walk inside the house when she sees a woman with short, gray hair inspecting her garden.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Wanda says, clearly on edge. She’s not in the mood for any more surprises today.

And as the woman turns around, her jaw drops.

“Mom!”

“Hello, dear”

“Grandma!” Tommy runs back to her. “It’s you!”

“Oh, my! Look at you, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! You’re so tall” the woman says, hugging her grandson. “Where’s your brother? Did you leave school early?”

“Uh… let’s all get inside. Tommy, tell your brother to come back down, please” Wanda interrupts, knowing she’ll get unwanted advice about parenting as soon as her mother knows what happened at school today. “So, how… I mean when…”

“Mama, I hope your flight was good” Pietro walks up to the door, wrapping his mother in a hug.

“You knew she was coming” Wanda says, feeling her blood boiling.

That little Mama’s boy.

“Don’t make a fuss, Wanda” their mother scolds. “I’m just here to help. And I won’t be staying in your house, your neighbor rents a room down the street. Mrs. Davies, you probably know her”

“Yeah, of course I do” she answers, but her mother is already walking inside, inspecting Pietro.

“Now, how’s recovery? You look so thin, bratan. Oh! You got a dog!” the woman exclaims, Sparky running around her.

This is so not how she expected her day to go at all.

—

Wanda’s not allowed in the kitchen while her mother cooks, and she can’t clean either because that was the first thing Ekaterina Maximoff did as soon as she set foot in the house.

The list of things she can do to get distracted is drastically reduced, so she locks herself in her study, pretending to sketch.

But all she can think about is you.

This is exactly why she doesn’t like to have free time. The memories of how you filled every part of the house with laughter and love are just waiting around the corner to remind Wanda how badly she messed up.

She decides to check on the twins, who should be done with their homework around this time.

But only Billy’s in his bed, playing with a Rubik’s cube you gave him.

“Hey” Wanda says, as she opens the door. “Mind if I sit?”

Billy just shrugs his shoulders, eyes focused on the different colors of the puzzle.

“Wanna tell me what happened in school? Did Tommy really start the fight?”

Billy sighs, and then looks up.

“Daniel said some mean things. Like…”

“Like… sweetheart, you can tell me anything, I promise. I just want to understand what happened” Wanda reassures him, squeezing his hand.

“Daniel said he heard his dad talking about you and Y/N. How it wasn’t right that you were with her and that he was happy she was gone. And then… he said maybe now that Y/N wasn’t around I…” Billy covers his eyes, trying to hide the fact he’s crying.

“Come here” Wanda comforts him, her heart breaking. She’s sorry to say this, but she doesn’t blame Tommy for getting into a fight with Daniel, not after he said all those horrible things.

“He said that now that Y/N’s gone I was going to stop being a weirdo”

“My sweet boy, I am so sorry” Wanda says, kissing the top of his head. “What Daniel said is not ok and his father should teach him better. I promise you I will talk to him about it”

“Don’t be mad at Tommy, he was just upset” Billy asks, wiping the tears. “He misses Y/N and so do I”

“It’s ok” Wanda hugs her baby boy, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. She feels Billy relax against her, hugging her like he used to do before you left.

Correction.

Before Wanda kicked you out.

“Do you miss her?” he asks, his voice small. He knows his mother doesn’t want to talk about you. It upsets her too much.

“Of course I do”

“It’s just… it feels like you don’t care, Mama. Like you don’t even remember her at all” Billy says, crying more.

“I know. I’m not the best at this, darling. I guess I just miss her so much it hurts, and I rather not think about it at all. It’s a silly thing grown ups do”

“Do you know if she’s ok?”

“I think so. I hope so”

“Do you think she misses us too?”

“I’m sure she misses you and Tommy and Sparky”

Truth is, Wanda isn’t sure you have any love left for her. Not enough to miss her, at least.

—

The food tastes like home. Like the summers in the country side, or the cold days of winter where Wanda played with Pietro until Mama called them home for a dinner of warm soup and bread.

“Delicious” Pietro comments after the first bite and Wanda nods.

“I can never get the sauce for the Chkmeruli right” Wanda says, trying to figure out the missing ingredient. “Your is so much better, just like grandma’s”

“I’ll teach you how to get it right” Ekaterina promises. “The secret is in the amount of ingredients. And something that we’re not telling anyone else”

“Alright” Wanda nods.

“Now, boys. Tell me all about school. And your hobbies. Do you play videogames?”

Wanda watches her family interact, laughing at certain things, and looking at her mother with fascination.

There’s a certain guilt that takes over when she understands she wasted three years of her life for something that could have been solved with an honest conversation.

One day, her mother will be gone and she’ll regret not having spent more time with her.

There’s also another regret in the back of her mind.

She wishes you had met her mother.

“Excuse me for a moment” she says, standing up from the table and walking to the bathroom. She covers her mouth to stop from sobbing, but there are tears in her eyes and a weight in her stomach that doesn’t let her sleep or eat or live.

Wanda fucked up so badly and now she’ll never see you again.

“Oh, God” she says, trying to breath, and fix her makeup. She can’t let the boys see her like this.

It’s been an overwhelming day, that’s all.

I’m fine.

“Is everyone done? I’m cleaning the kitchen” she says as soon as she comes back, picking up the plates and rushing past her family.

The cleaning keeps her hands busy and mind at ease, but she's still humming a song, just to focus on something that isn’t those awful thoughts she just had.

“I’m sorry” Pietro says, walking with the help of his cane. “I know it feels like an ambush, and I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re not ok. The kids are always fighting with you, you do everything but talk about what happened and Y/N’s stuff are still in the garage. Maybe… fixing things with Mama can give you some perspective. I don’t know. I’m a burden most of the time, without being able to walk or do more around here. I just wanted to help”

Wanda keeps cleaning, never turning around to ackowledge her brother. He sighs, scratching the back of his head and turning to leave the kitchen.

“You’ll never be a burden, Pietro” is all Wanda says, finally turning to look at him. He smiles.

“Try to get some rest”

“You too”

“Oh, and Daniel definitely deserved to get his ass kicked”

“I agree” Wanda laughs. “Don’t tell the kids, though”

Pietro makes a motion, as if sealing his lips.

Their mom walks to hug him, saying goodbye for the day.

“You can sleep in my room, I can take the couch” Wanda offers.

“None of that. Mrs. Davies is excited over her very first guest and I won’t be the one to disappoint that sweet woman. Get some rest. Tomorrow I’m making borsch”

“You don’t have to cook, I can handle it”

“Of course I have to. Your brother needs to gain some weight!” the woman says, kissing her daughter in both cheeks. She says something in Sokovian about her children eating all that American food, walking out to Mrs. Davies house.

Wanda’s done with cleaning, and she goes upstairs to say goodnight to the kids.

“Hey. You’re not grounded. Ok?” Wanda says when Billy falls asleep, looking at Tommy. “Thank you for looking after your brother”

“I am older by ten minutes” he says, like Pietro always does. Wanda smiles, kissing his forehead.

“Sleep well, sweet boy”

And as she walks to her room, that feels so empty ever since that night one month ago, Wanda’s not sure how long she can handle pretending that one day, your abscence won’t hurt as much.

—

She could fix this.

You always fixed things.

Wanda had gotten the message. You disappeared, no calls or texts, not even to let her know where you were staying.

And when she tried to reach out, you never answered.

But now she was worried and scared, and most of all, sorry for the things she had said to you.

Wanda needed to apologize, to tell you how much she loved you.

But even if that was the only thing on her mind, she was standing outside the hospital, trying to gather the courage to come in.

“Wanda” a voice said behind her. Although it was familiar, Wanda was disappointed when she turned around and saw Carol Danvers.

“Hey… I was just… I was looking for Y/N”

“Oh. Uh… you haven’t heard?” Carol stumbled with her words, caught completely off guard.

“Heard what? Is Y/N ok?” Wanda’s heart began to race… maybe you were injured and it was exactly why you hadn’t replied to any of her messages, or answered the phone when she called.

“Yeah, uh… oh, crap” Carol looked over Wanda’s shoulder. “If I were you I’d run back to my car”

“What?” Wanda turned around, her eyes meeting Darcy’s.

“You!” the brunette barked, walking faster. “You’re about to find out why I got banned from lacrosse in college, Maximoff”

“Let’s calm down” Carol asked, stepping between the two of them.

“No! I will not calm down. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Wanda. You told Y/N everything she’s always been afraid of hearing. That you can’t trust her or the 'we’ll be better without you', fucking fantastic, really!”

“Darcy, come on, we should get back inside” Carol said, pleading with Maria to help her. But Darcy was not done.

“All this bullshit of making her move in with you and be a family for what? To kick her out just because you had a shitty day? Because she was saving a life?”

“I just… I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her…”

“Well, for that you’d have to get on a plane to Boston. Because Y/N quit” Darcy said, amused at Wanda’s shocked expression. “Yeah, my best friend left without a second thought because of you. Way to screw over everyone, Wanda”

“I didn’t want this to happen”

“That’s not good enough, unfortunately. You got lucky, because Danver’s here. But I’m being serious, if I see you again I’m gonna make an even bigger scene”

Maria went after Darcy, who was clearly pissed off, leaving Carol and Wanda outside of the hospital.

“Do you know if she’s ok?” Wanda asked, looking down.

“She doesn’t answer anyone’s calls or texts, Wanda. All I know is she quit one week ago and got on a plane to Boston”

“Right… Well, I better go” she said, biting her lip. “Thanks for keeping Darcy from killing me”

“Yeah, we’re understaffed with Y/N gone. So I can’t really let Darcy get arrested” Carol joked, though it was also one way of reminding Wanda her actions had impacted a whole group of people outside of her.

“See you” Wanda nodded, walking fast to her car. Chief Fury almost clashed against her, as Wanda was looking anywhere but the path in front of her.

“I’m sorry”

“Bet you are” the man grumbled, walking to the hospital.

Even another man in a motorcycle couldn’t keep from staring at Wanda, his blue eyes cold as ice.

So, Wanda got on her car, and left without lookig back.

She lost you. Forever.

—-

“Morning” a very upbeat voice speaks as Ekaterina walks down the stairs.

“Morning, Mrs. Davies” she says, smiling.

“Oh, please, call me Sharon. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’ll take some tea”

“Of course. Very healthy!” the woman says, getting everything ready. Ekaterina takes a moment to look around, admiring all the plants in the room and the flower wallpaper.

“Are you a gardener?”

“Only for fun” Sharon says, putting some biscuits in a plate. “Can I just say, I love your accent?”

Ekaterina smiles, but keeps from answering that. Though people were nice about it, she knew others had always been critical of her for not learning “proper” English when her family moved to America.

Which is why she was happy to return to Sokovia when things settled. The US was never her home, even if it was for her children.

“Was the family happy to see you?”

“Oh, yes. Especially my daughter” Ekaterina jokes, though it flies over Sharon’s head. Of course she doesn’t know that they have a complicated relationship. “I do hope she has been a good neighbor to you. I raised her to be kind”

“Oh, she’s great. Always baking stuff for everyone, the kids are very polite and well behaved too. She’s a great girl, just as Y/N. They were good together. I hope Y/N is doing ok” Sharon says, pouring every single detail that Ekaterina wanted to know.

Well, seems like it’s gonna be easier than she thought.

“Yes, this Y/N girl. Can you tell me more about her?” she says in a casual tone, and Sharon is happy to talk about you.

“Well, she moved to the neighborhood like two years ago. She’s a surgeon, always working. Honestly, very quiet but very nice. One time I fell in the sidewalk and she slept in the couch just to make sure someone was around in case I needed something”

Very impressive. It was the kind of thing that would make Ekaterina approve of anyone dating her children.

“And she was with Wanda?”

“Well… I’m not sure I should talk about this” Sharon hesitates for the first time.

“I’m just curious, as a mother…”

Ah, the mother card.

It works so well.

“Of course, you’re right! It’s not like I’ll tell you things you can’t figure out on your own” Sharon laughs, thinking of everything she remembers. “Well, Y/N lived across the street from Wanda, which is probably how they started talking. You know, young people understand each other better than us”

“So they were together?”

“Yes, I think Agatha saw them almost a year ago… on a date or something. And then, it was kinda nice to see Y/N around a bit more. Ya know, it was obvious she was spending more time at home, to help with the boys. They adore her. Always running around with her, playing. It was nice to see them all be a family” Sharon’s enthusiasm dies down.

“And then?”

“Humm” she says, sighing. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw Y/N she was walking out of the house and she got into her car. She didn’t have any bags or anything, so I just assumed she was going to the hospital… but then she never came back”

“And you have no idea what happened?” Ekaterina pushes forward, curious to check if the woman’s being honest.

“No, I’m sorry”

“Mudak”

“Oh, can I ask what that word means?” Sharon says, smiling. She loves learning new words.

“It means motherfucker” Ekaterina answers, her accent heavy.

“Wow, ok” Sharon giggles nervously. “You know who could have that information? Agatha. Yeah, her girlfriend works at the hospital. She’s kinda scary”

“Agatha or her girlfriend?”

“Both, definitely both”

“How can I speak to them?” Ekaterina says, trying to piece everything together.

She can manage scary. Especially when she’s looking for answers.

—

Billy’s in a mood again. He didn’t want to go to school, and he’s still refusing to go to soccer practice.

“Daniel’s gonna keep annoying me” he mutters.

“I will speak with his father today” Wanda says, driving them both to school. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, sweetheart”

“Y/N would kick his ass” Billy says in a low voice, but Wanda still hears.

“Don’t speak like that. And violence is not the answer”

“Yeah, well, Daniel’s a jerk, his dad too and I want to talk to Y/N. She’s the only one that can make everything right again”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling up to drop them off. “Y/N’s not coming back. You hear me? She’s gone. We don’t need her, we’ve been fine on our own our whole lives”

“You’re lying. I hate you” he says, running out of the car.

Wanda’s speechless.

This is the first time she’s had a fight with her sweet boys. The first time they’ve been mean or said something to hurt her.

She was expecting this as they got old, maybe 13. But now?

“Bye, Mom” Tommy says, walking after his brother. He’s nervous too. He knows he can’t get into any more trouble or he might get suspended, but Daniel’s not the nicest kid.

“Oh, damn it” she looks behind her to notice Billy left his lunch. “Kids!”

“Hey, Wanda” Richard calls for her. “Heard our guys had a little fight. I was hoping we could talk about it. Maybe over dinner?”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is he really flirting right now?

“Yeah, I should actually…”

“No need to apologize, boys will be boys, right?”

“Apologize?” Wanda tilts her head, the way she always does when she’s pissed. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. And neither is Tommy”

“Well, he started the fight”

“No, Daniel was repeating the stupid things you say. Like how it’s wrong for two women to date. And he also insulted Billy” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “The way I see it, it’s the proverbial talk shit, get hit”

“Wow, ok, no need to get emotional”

“No, I’m not emotional. I’m just saying, if you ever say anything bad about Y/N or my kids and I get wind of it, I’m running you over with my car. See ya, Dick”

Fucking asshole.

Wanda can practically hear you say those words. Though you’d be a lot scarier, telling him all the ways in which he could get hurt using medical terms he wouldn’t even begin to understand.

You’d never let anything bad happen to your family.

Wanda decides to play the loudest music on the way back home. Yes, death metal from her emo phase -something you’d tease her for relentlessly before-.

As she pulls over in the driveway, her mother knocks on the window, making Wanda jump.

“Why are you still listening to that devil music? I thought that phase was over!”

“Mom!”

“Are you ok?”

“Fine”

“Yeah, I can tell”

“Ok, I don’t have time for this, I need to drive Pietro to rehab. Do you need anything from the store?”

“Yes, many things! Like actual paprikash. I can’t believe you buy US made. That’s why you can’t get the food right”

“Seriously?”

“Settle down, you two” Pietro asks, coming out of the house. It was a fun time, being a teenager and hearing his sister and mother argue over every single thing. They’re too much alike, that’s the only problem.

“Anyways, I will go to store, Sharon is letting me drive her car”

“Ok, does she know about the time you almost destroyed a McDonald’s with Papa’s car?”

“He said drive through, so I did!”

“Yeah, through the wall” Pietro laughs, earning a slap on the back of the head from his mother.

“You, go to your thing. And I’m picking up Billy from school today. He doesn’t want to go do soccer, so we’re going to get ice cream” Ekaterina says casually.

“It’s not optional for him! I’m the mom here”

“Just for a day. I hardly think it will affect him if he doesn’t run around like dog after a ball. Take Sparky instead” the woman says.

Wanda wants to scream into a pillow.

—

Ekaterina comes back from the store, but instead of parking outside of Wanda’s, she leaves the car right outside of Agatha’s home.

The investigation continues.

After a knock, a woman with dark, long hair and piercing blue eyes opens the door.

“You the OG Mrs. Maximoff” she greets, standing aside to let her in.

“I don’t know what those words mean. I’m Wanda and Pietro’s mother”

“Ooh, I love the accent. I love learning languages. My girlfriend is teaching me Spanish”

Before Ekaterina can answer, there’s a frantic knock, and Sharon walks inside the minute Agatha opens the door.

“I hope I’m not too late”

“I didn’t know we were having a party” Agatha says. She doesn’t really like visitors, and Mrs. Davies' enthusiasm and corny jokes are an acquired taste.

“Alright. What do you want to know?” Agatha leans back in her chair, intrigued by the woman.

Why not just ask her own daughter? Though, considering how Wanda’s been acting, she’ll probably refuse to answer any questions about it.

“Why did Y/N leave? Where did she go?”

“Ok, so… I need a minute because Rio was telling me everything in Spanish so I could learn. You know, using gossip as motivation” Agatha massages her temples, trying to remember everything. “Ok, there was a new doctor, something, something, cheating, slapping, break up”

“What?” Ekaterina says. “Are you saying that woman slapped my daughter?”

“No! Well, I don’t think so. Ah, screw it! Amor!” Agatha shouts, calling for Rio. “Ponte ropa y baja a contarles el chisme”

“Está bien” a voice says. A few minutes later, another woman joins them in the living room, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

“You called?”

“Ok, so I kinda lied when I said I understood everything you said in Spanish. I do remember the name Natasha. And something about a kiss” Agatha smiles, and Rio can’t really stay mad when her girlfriend is looking all cute.

“So, a few months ago, Natasha Romanoff came to the hospital to teach a method developed by her mother. The Romanoffs are a very wealthy, very famous family of doctors. And everyone in the hospital kinda noticed that Natasha was flirting with Y/N”

“Did Y/N flirt back? Was she cheating on my daughter?”

“I meaaan, 50/50. The hospital was split. Some people believed that she was just being nice and others thought there were feelings involved”

“What do you think?” Ekaterina presses.

“I think Y/N was just being flirty but she never meant for anything else to happen. She’s just naturally personable. Even she can manage to make me laugh from time to time. So, I don’t know. There was a rumor that Natasha kissed her once or was trying to talk her into breaking up with Wanda… which, I guess has some truth to it, considering Y/N moved to Boston to work for the Romanoffs”

“I’m sorry, then who slapped who?” Mrs. Davies asks, confused.

“Oh, Y/N’s mother outside the hospital, but that's not related to Wanda. Darcy told me that woman is awful. Used to put Y/N through hell when she was a kid”

“Yeah, I know the feeling” Agatha mumbles and Rio places her hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

“I don’t like this Y/N” Ekaterina decides. “She was weak and got my family hurt”

“I don’t think that’s exactly accurate…” Agatha says, feeling the need to defend you. She knows you, and you’d never do anything to hurt Wanda. Not on purpose. “Look, I was looking for my bunny that night. Little shit likes to escape out of the blue. Wanda was the one who ended things. I heard that loud and clear. And yes, it seems messy, but I don’t think it’s fair to blame it all on someone”

“Yeah, Y/N really loved the kids and took care of Wanda” Sharon insists. Ekaterina sighs, crossing her arms.

“I don’t suppose anyone knows how to get in touch with Y/N”

Agatha, Rio and Sharon share a look.

“I could try” Rio offers, thinking Darcy might be in touch with you.

“Thank you. Now I go to pick up Billy from school. I appreciate your help”

“I actually need the car for a bit” Sharon asks, but the woman is already gone. “Oh, well”

—

True to her word, Ekaterina picked up Billy from school, while Tommy was supposed to ride with Sharon and her kid to soccer.

Wanda wasn’t really looking forward to practice today, in case Richard was there.

Thankfully, it seemed like Daniel was here with his mother, but Wanda’s stomach dropped when Susan walked up to her.

“Wanda, can we talk for a sec?”

“Yeah, sure”

They walked away from the rest of the parents.

“Look, I know what Daniel said and I already talked to him about it. He’ll apologize to Tommy and Billy, but I wanted to tell you personally how asahmed I am. Those awful things are all Richard and I really don’t want Daniel to be like his father”

“Oh… wow. I don’t know what to say” Wanda laughs, relieved. “Your ex had a very different approach to this whole situation”

“I know, he’s an asshole”

Both women laugh at that.

“I was going to say, he can speak to Tommy after practice, but I haven’t seen him today. Or Billy”

“Oh, Billy’s with my mother. But Sharon picked up Tommy…” though when Wanda looks around the field, she doesn’t see her son. Spotting Sharon, she runs up to her. “Hey, Tommy rode with you, right?”

“What? Wanda, he said he was feeling ill and that you were going to pick him up”

“No, that never… I-I don’t have any missed calls. No one from school told me anything. Shit!” she curses, her hands shaking. Her mother takes forever to pick up the phone. “Is Tommy with you? No, I know Billy’s there. What about Tommy? Ok, I don’t have time to explain, meet me at home now”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to call you” Sharon says.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine” Wanda repeats, trying to calm herself.

Her first instinct is to call you.

But then she has to think really hard on what to do, so she calls Pietro to make sure Tommy isn’t home by some weird miracle. Should she call the cops? The fire department?

Clint, he will know what to do.

“Ok, I’ll meet you at your house, it’s gonna be fine” Clint says.

“You good to drive?” Susan says, walking Wanda to the car.

“Yes. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and Tommy’s in his room playing videogames”

“Well, ok, if you need anything here’s my number” the woman says.

Wanda goes over everything that could have happened. Tommy likes to visit the library, the park on Fullton street, the comic book store…

Clint’s already there when she gets home, and Ekaterina parks a second later.

“Billy, come here” Wanda kneels to look at her son. “Did Tommy tell you anything? Was he going somewhere?”

Billy shakes his head no, and Wanda insists.

“Sweetheart, are you sure? I promise I won’t be mad”

“I don’t know, I swear”

“Alright, I just spoke to my friend at the station. They’re gonna start looking for him. Pietro should stay here in case Tommy comes back or someone calls home. The rest of us could split and check places we know he frequents” Clint says.

“Billy, stay with uncle Pietro” Wanda asks. The boy nods, walking up the stairs to meet his uncle, who puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll go to the arcade” Clint offers. “Ask if anyone’s seen him”

“We’ll go to the park” Wanda nods, waiting for her mother to join her in the car. She can’t even begin to understand what’s happening.

Wanda doesn’t know what to do, but she has to remain calm, because her son needs her.

—

Tommy’s begining to think this is a bad idea. He doesn’t have a lot of money and he doesn’t have a clue on what bus will take him to Boston.

He should be at soccer practice now.

He finds a cafeteria not far from school, and goes inside hoping he can get some free water.

“You alone, sweetheart?” the waitress says, concerned.

“No, my mom is in the bathroom” he lies and the woman doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Either way, she leaves him alone. Tommy takes the time to dig in his backpack for some extra coins that might be in there.

Instead he finds a letter and a couple of pins.

After reading it, he walks up to the waitress and finally tells the truth.

“I ran away. Can you help me find my mom?”

“Of course, sweetheart”

—-

“Where should we go?” her mother asks, and Wanda points in the direction of the lake.

“He liked to feed the ducks with Y/N”

“Ok, then”

They walk in silence, Wanda’s thoughts racing until her mother speaks.

“I lost you once. You were four or five, maybe, and we were at the market. While your brother picked out the apples, you decided to run after a chicken. And I was so scared, calling for you in the sea of people”

“Yeah. It’s an awful feeling” Wanda says, wiping away the tears.

They walk around the park for ten minutes before deciding he’s not here. Tommy’s nowhere to be found. He’s a ten year old, for God’s sake, where on Earth could he be?

Before she has time to think it twice, Wanda picks up the phone and dials your number.

“Hello?”

That’s not your voice.

It’s Natasha’s.

Wanda hangs up, and adds this to the list of shitty things that have happened to her in the span of two days.

“Mom, I can’t!” she finally breaks down. “I don’t know how to fix this. I miss her so much and I ruined everything and she’s never coming back. And now my boys hate me and I have nothing. All because I was so stuck in the past. And I lost her”

“Breathe. Breathe for me” Ekaterina pulls her daughter into a hug, while Wanda’s body shakes with the strenght of her sobs. “It’s ok. It will be ok”

“It doesn’t feel like it”

“Trust me” she says, waiting until Wanda calms down. After a few minutes, she wipes her tears and looks at her mother. Wanda’s about to say something else when her phone rings again.

“Oh, it’s Clint. Hello? Yes, where? Ok, send me the address and I’ll be right there” she hangs up, sprinting to the car. “He’s at a cafeteria not far from school”

“Thank God”

It’s only a five minute drive but to Wanda it feels like an eternity. As soon as she parks, she spots Tommy sitting at the counter, drinking a milkshake while a waitress talks to him, trying to ease his nerves.

“Is that your mom?” the woman says when Wanda gets inside. Tommy’s eyes widen, and he runs towards her.

“Mama!”

“Oh, Tommy. I was so worried about you”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I’m just happy you’re safe. Let’s go home”

—

The kids are safely tucked in bed, and Wanda’s having a glass of wine in the kitchen. She’d drink something stronger if she had anything at all.

Her mind goes back to the fact Natasha picked up your phone.

It doesn’t mean you’re with her. And even if you were, Wanda was the one that broke up with you.

Then why did it hurt so much to think you’d already moved on?

With a sigh, she goes up the stairs. Wanda can’t help but go into her children’s room, just to make sure they’re both safe.

When she asked Tommy what happened, he just said he wanted to go and see you. But then he changed his mind when he found something in his backpack. Though he wouldn’t tell Wanda what it was.

As the woman walks up to her children, she notices a letter tucked under Tommy’s pillow.

Could this be the thing he found?

Billy and Tommy,

Hey kiddos. This isn’t something I’m happy about and I never really wanted to write a letter like this one.

You might not see me anymore. I know it sucks, because I promised I’d take you to the state fair and Universal Studios when the school year was over.

The thing is, sometimes grown ups have a lot of complicated things going on. Sometimes things don’t work out no matter how much we try.

Be good to your mom, ok? If you miss me and want me to be less worried about you, just promise me you’ll love her extra for me. You are her biggest treasure and she’s such a great mom. Don’t forget you’re all each other have.

PS - I’m leaving my lucky pins with you. Please take care of them for me.

Love you three,

Y/N

Of course.

Of course it was you.

Even if you were thousand of miles away, you had found a way to help Wanda and keep her family safe.

Now she won’t be able to sleep at all, so she goes downstairs to the garage, full of boxes with your clothes and books.

For the first time since you left, Wanda allows herself to look at everything you left behind, and everything you did. The smallest things, like how you always forget to wear glasses to read, and you end up with a frown. Sunday’s crossword puzzle, always discarded. It’s not that you don’t finish it, the opposite. You know the answers to everything so fast that writing them is a waste of time.

Wanda pulls out your college sweatshirt, hugging it tight against her chest.

She misses you, so much it hurts.

As she puts on the sweatshirt, Wanda folds the sleeves, slightly long for her shorter arms.

When she’s about to close the box, she sees it.

A small box. For a ring.

An engagement ring.

She let’s out a gasp as she opens it.

You were proposing.

And all Wanda did was question your committment and your love for her and the children.

I’m such an idiot.

She doesn’t have much time to wallow, though. Wanda’s phone rings, and her mouth goes dry when she reads the name on the screen.

You.

Looking between her phone and the ring, Wanda doesn’t know what to do.

Should she tell you she found the ring?

Would it make a difference at all?

[aninipanin1]

How about Young manager with ADHD (continuously gets lost within Blue Lock, interrupts Ego using the PA system (accidentally) about trivial things, misplaces objects, rather naive etc),,, lol

LOST SHEEP

Notes: I personally do not have ADHD and my knowledge about it is quite small, so please forgive me if I misrepresent it here! I do not have any intentions of doing so, and if I do make some mistakes, please let me know! I am genuinely interested in being much more knowledgeable about this topic. Thank you!

"Y/n-chan...? What are you doing there..?"

Hiori asked, blinking at the rather bizarre scene in front of him. The midfielder just finished his daily training routines when he stepped inside of the laundry room to place his laundry basket.

But when he did walk in, he found their precious manager crouched down, hugging your legs as your eyes focused intensely at the small window of the washing machine, eyes boring at the spinning clothes inside the contraption.

In fact, you were too focused to even notice or hear the music of the other machines that alerted the room about how the process was done. You were just sitting there, staring, eyes blinking rarely, as if the rotation of the washing machine was a rare circus show to your eyes.

Everyone in the facility knew of your...tendencies and are more than understanding and ready to help you return your attention to whatever you were currently doing. Hiori was no different as he approached your crouched figure and lightly held your shoulder to take your attention back, but he made sure to be gentle enough to not scare you.

"Y/n-chan, earth to Y/n-chan. Are you okay?" He said in the softest voice he can muster, his hands supporting your crouched figure that almost lost its balance. You looked a bit dazed still from your previous episode, blinking at the sudden interruption. Turning to the blue-haired player, you tilted your head.

"Hiori-kun? What are we doing here...? What's happening?"

"Everything is fine, Y/n-chan. You just got a bit distracted with the washing machine." He explained, raising one of his hands to your hair, softly patting it in a comforting manner. He guided you up from your position and helped with the laundry that had long been done.

"Oh, I didnt notice that the rest were done..." you said in realization, looking at the washing machine with wide eyes. Hiori, who could not help himself, pinched one of your cheeks.

"Its fine, let's just get the rest of the laundry and hang it up, yeah?"

'Geez, she's too cute to be even real...' he inwardly gushed.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Ego said, glaring at a worried Anri the moment he received the news. Apparently, you have been missing for more than an hour now, with no one from any stratum knowing where you were or even seeing you pass by.

"I'm a little worried. We all know how she gets when she's super distracted."

Ego sighed, rubbing his temple and not even adjusting his glasses that fell off the bridge of his nose. Out of everyone in there, he knew, especially how you can get. Being the one you always worked alongside with, there were times when you would be too focused on something trivial like a moving object or a rather miniscule detail that you would end up forgetting everything you were currently and supposed to be doing.

Now, most of the time, he encourages this. Ego cannot count how many times you ended up helping him and the players as a whole because your fixations on even the most minute of details always ended up being the root cause of a problem.

Hence, why, starting then, he always trusted your mini hyperfixations, no matter how dumb it may sound. You were naive, yes, but you are also a genius, something most people around you know of. So, early on, Ego trusted these said instincts and fixations and revolving them into something that would benefit everybody.

However, there are times like these where those hyperfixations end up disadvantageous. Somehow, you always get lost in the worst times in the worst places possible. Once, the whole facility literally had to work together in order to find you, only for Niko to find you crawling around the storage room near the cafeteria, chasing a ladybug that got your attention while you tried to find your way around the facility again.

There was no time for that kind of thing, however, seeing as to how the day after tomorrow was the last games for the Neo Egoist League, and the staff desperately needed to arrange everything and anything under the sun to make sure the games and livestream are all smooth sailing.

And, they definitely needed you, the overall manager of the teams, there.

"What do we do, Ego-san?"

"I'll look around in my cameras. Try to find her in the usual spot and rooms she crawls and runs on, or those rooms that have a lot of things she can fidget with." He sighed, feeling so done with everything that happened that day.

"Okay. I'll ask help from the rest of the staff."

Just as they were about to start looking for you though, the PA system was suspiciously turned on.

"Huh? It's not even 12 in the noon yet."

Anri said, confused, but all their questioning were answered when they heard the loud feedback of the mic before hearing small scratches and fidgeting noises in the mix. There were even times when they heard some buttons being pushed about. Ego sighed again, but it felt more like a breath of relief.

"That's her. Get that problem child and bring her here." Ego said, spinning his chair to face the cameras. And would you know it, when he went back through the CCTV cameras' previous footages, he saw you in the PA room, fidgeting with the buttons of the system. If he were to be honest, he felt a huge sigh of relief that you were not doing anything that may have harmed you of sort.

After a few minutes, Anri opened the door to his office but alongside her was Don Lorenzo who was smirking as he held you by the scruff of your jacket. Carrying you like a lost kitten, while you only blinked at the predicament you were in, constantly asking Anri about what you were supposed to do again and just babbling stories to Lorenzo and Anri.

"The lost sheep is here." He said, bringing you on the ground as carefully as he could, nodding along to whatever you said about how microphones actually worked and how you were just curious and wanted to experiment if your knowledge and hypothesis were actually real or whatever your mind was thinking about currently.

"Y/n." Ego said a bit sternly, making you stop talking as you looked at the man.

"Try to bring someone with you when you go on your little adventures sometimes." He said before turning his swivel chair once again to face the many monitors, turning his back to you.

"Okay, Ego-san!" You cheered happily, not even bothered about what had just transpired as you went back to your notebook to continue writing and working.

'This girl is going to be the death of me. This is why I don't want kids.' Ego thought, shaking his head.

"Rin-kun. Have you seen Mr. Boba?"

"Hah?"

Rin said, his usual frown in his face. But, this was more of a frown of confusion. He knew you had the habit of naming normal objects with names you found either fitting or adorable, by your standards of course. So, when you approached the striker about a supposed 'Mr. Boba,' he had no idea what the hell you were even looking for.

"Mr. Boba! He has tons of dots that's why he's Mr. Boba." You insisted, your face in a frown because you can't find what you were looking for at all and it was starting to thin your patience a bit.

"Look, I don't know what your Mr. Boba is. What even is it? Is it a hairpin of a boba, or a keychain?" Rin asked. He really did want to help you find Mr. Boba, but you were not exactly helping your case as you kept insisting Mr. Boba was Mr. Boba.

That was until Karasu and Shidou entered the field that helped him and you.

"Y/n-chan! Hi! Why are you sad?!" Shidou asked as he jumped to hug you, before frowning himself, not liking that you were clearly upset by the look at the frown on your face.

"What's wrong, Y/n-chan?" Karasu added, patting your hair.

"Did Rinrin over here make you sad? I'll beat him up for you if you want, Y/n-cha-"

"Shut the fuck up, lukewarm idiot. I didn't do crap." Rin intercepted Shidou, feeling the veins on his head pop.

"No, no, Shidou-san. I just can't find Mr. Boba. What do I do? I need him." The frown on your face deepened into a pout. Karasu was confused as hell who was this Mr. Boba you were talking about. He turned to Rin, who only glared at him.

"I dont know who the hell her Mr. Boba is."

But, Shidou seemed to understand who your Mr. Boba was as the grin on his face widened and he pulled your phone out from your jacket pocket and extended it to your hand.

"Mr. Boba!" You cheered happily at the phone.

"Silly Y/n-chan. It was in your pocket all along!" Shidou said as he pinched your cheeks and stretching it. Meanwhile, Karasu and Rin were just left confused to the side, wondering how the hell was a phone comparable to a boba.

"That's Mr. Boba? What the hell. I don't see it." Karasu commented, but Shidou only stuck his tongue out at both of them.

"You all are blind losers. Can't you see the phonecase design? It has black circles in the bottom and since its a clear case, you can see the (f/c) of the phone! So its like boba." Shidou explained, pointing out the small design of the phone that somehow made it look like a boba in both your and his eyes.

"Yeah! Like Shidou-san said!" You cheered as you hugged the male, thanking him sweetly for helping you find your Mr. Boba.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Rin said, facepalming as Karasu just laughed.

"Shut the hell up, Rin-rin! You can't say that to Y/n-chan!!!"

"Who said I was also talking about her?"

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Since everyone in the Blue Lock facility found out about your disorder, they became much more protective of you overall.

You are waiting in line for food? No, youre not. Everyone is letting you get your food first.

You have bad time management? They'd help with that. They'll be your personal alarm clock.

You are feeling so bored and want to fidget with something? They'd let you play with their hands while they listened to Ego's damn lectures.

It's all about maintaining your attention span yet enabling you to become a better person as a whole. To improve your mental health and also make you feel that you are more than your disorder.

But, of course, they can't help but spoil you every once in a while. No biggie!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.