#i love to make his life harder than it needs be :)

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️���🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[hisaangel]

Frat!Luigi x reader

cw: Smut, kinda rough sex (hitting) , panty gag??, unprotected sex,

"Luigi Nicholas Mangione put me down!" smacking his shoulder, but the boy just answered with a "no, quiet" followed by a groan. Squirming in his arms. It didnt take long for Luigi to get the two of you where he wanted, planting you onto your feet in your shared bedroom.

"Lui-"

"Didnt i tell you to be quiet" he spat, pushing you onto the bed, his hungry lips finding yours, gasping into the kiss suprised by his eagerness.

"Luigi what is goi-" interrupted by a slap to your thigh, a squel leaving your lips in suprise, "quiet". His fingers trailing down to your waistband, ripping at the zipper of your jeans, pulling the fabric down, a smirk appearing on his face as he noticed the wet spot in your panties, "so wet..." his finger dipping into the fabric, dark eyes watching your every move as he rubs your sensitive clit.

Finally pulling your panties down, putting them into his backpocket, going back to assaulting your pussy, inserting two fingers into your dripping pussy, making you throw your head back, speechless at the feeling. Moans leaving your lips, as his fingers speed up, shaking at the pleasure. From one second to another all the pleasure was gone.

"Lu-" met with a harsh slap on your clit, "i told you to be fucking quiet and you just wont shut your pretty little mouth" his hand now travelling down to his backpocket, where he had placed your panties earlier, opening your mouth with his other hands placing the wet fabric in between your lips.

Luigi desperately pulling his pants and boxers down, his hard cock slapping against his toned abs.

"I'm going to ruin your pretty little pussy" his cock slipping through your dripping folds, your moans muffled by the fabric in your mouth. His pace cruel and his words even more. "Im not going to stop, gonna keep going until every last drop of me is filling your needy little pussy" pulling you into him even harder than before, his grip so tight that it would be leaving marks on you by tomorrow.

“such a fucking slut, my pathetic little slut”

Using your body as his personal rag doll. His pace getting more and more erratic, both of you getting closer to your pending orgasm. Luigi's thumb coming down to rub your clit pushing you over the edge, nails digging into his biceps, holding onto dear life as you came all over his cock, your walls clenching around his cock. Not slowing down his pace, chasing his own orgasm rapidly.

"i'm gonna fill you up and you're gonna take it like the good girl you are, arent you?"

Delivering a slap across your face as he finishes inside of you, his body spasming at the feeling of his load painting your insides. His hand reaching to pull the now drenched fabric out of your mouth, throwing them onto the ground.

"wow" you breathed out as his head dropped to your shoulder.

"sorry if i was too rough my love, ive just been stressed with the upcoming finals" pulling himself out of you, the only thing you could do in the moment was giggle "Maybe finals needs to come more often then"

"Absolutely not! but if you want me to fuck you like that more often we can arrange that baby" leaving pecks all over your face

"I'd love nothing more Lu" a giggle leaving your lips

[swingandadrive]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ green to silver

⊳ fernando alonso x f! reader | lewis hamilton x f! reader

⊳ fluff angst | age gap

⊳ summary: sometimes letting go is for the best

⊳ words: 836

You loved..love Fernando, you really do. It was weird, to feel that love slowly form into hate.

You knew hate could turn into love, but love to hate? That was something unexplainable.

Actually, you could explain very bluntly. Fernando stopped caring. He stopped loving.

“Y/n, princess..I promise you this weekend will be all yours, I’m sorry” He’d say as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then disappear for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know what had gone wrong, or why it had happened. You hated being called princess, yet he still called you it.

“Listen Y/n, I’m busy with work..I’m not performing as well, I'm stressed and have other things going on!” Fernando yells, hands going up as he tries to get his point across, again.

It was repetitive. It was the same cycle.

You look at him, a frown on your face as you cried- you knew. You always knew. Deep down you knew he’d never be enough for you, his words- his promises, the “I’m sorry” or “I’ll try harder” meant nothing.

“You just aren’t my top priority right now..” He’d remind you again.

For whatever reason you stayed, you weren’t sure why. You’d cry yourself to sleep more nights than you’d admit, always asking yourself what you saw in him and why you were staying.

After three years, you’d expect to be treated better.

“Listen- amor you need to stop treating our relationship like a marriage, we aren’t married” Fernando says, wiping a tear from your face.

You knew what he meant, but did you really? It always felt twisted when he said those words.

Almost like your relationship truly didn’t mean that much to him.

“Hey love, how are you doing?” Lewis says, giving you a side hug, smiling gently at you.

You knew Lewis, you’ve known Lewis for a little longer than you knew of Fernando- Lewis is the reason you two got together.

Now Lewis had always been kind to you, maybe too kind. You knew Lewis was an attractive individual, he’d shown interest in you.

You’d never admit it but you’d think of him softly from time to time.

“I’m alright, just tired is all” You say with a soft smile, eyes fighting the urge to close and stay closed.

You spent another night in an argument with Fernando.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is! It’s truly not that serious amor!” Fernando says, back to you.

“It’s serious to me Nando! It matters to me, I just need you to understand that..” You say, reaching out towards him.

Being ten years younger than him had always been in the back of your mind, personally you would say you weren’t insecure about it, but it definitely weighed you down.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s okay, Y/n” He says with a sigh, turning to face you and place a kiss on your lips.

I’m sorry.

How many times have you heard that? To you an apology was null and void without change.

“I think we should take a break- I..I want this break” Fernando says, it was the first thing he said to you after he returned from a Grand Prix.

You sit in bed, mind trying to wrap around at what he was saying. A break? Why the fuck would he want a break if he loves you.

“But- but what about what I want? I don’t get it Fernando” You say, tears starting to slip. You didn’t deserve this, you were amazing to him.

“I need to focus on what I want, I have other priorities right now” He says, sitting down next to you on your bed.

So what you wanted didn’t matter? In a relationship with two people, what you wanted didn’t matter?

That doesn’t make sense.

“I still want to be together, I still want you in my life..I just need a break”

Oh.

“So what? All of the moments were for nothing?” You whisper out, not being able to talk above a whisper without falling into tears.

“I don’t know”

You sit there, mind rushing as you try to collect yourself.

It confused you, because first of all you’re both adults, was this simply just immaturity on his part?

It had been two weeks, message after message had been sent to Fernando’s screen, and you hadn’t got any response.

So you officially broke it off, he wanted to stay loyal, to wait it out.

But how could you when Lewis was standing right there?

He wrapped his arms around you, holding onto you as you cried and mumbled out nonsense into his chest.

“It’s alright, love…you’ll be okay” He whispered into your hair, pressing a kiss to your head.

You grip onto Lewis’s hand as you both walk into the Britain GP, sunglasses on and head down as you hear the multiple cameras go off.

You knew there would be posts, articles and pictures everywhere.

Y/n L/n and Fernando Alonso broke up, and not only that, she got with Lewis Hamilton.

Instagram

y/n.l/n

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and others

y/n.l/n recently…

Comments on this post have been limited

lewishamilton: ❤️❤️❤️

y/n.l/n: ❤️❤️

carmenmmundt: so great to see you again!! 💛

y/n.l/n: you as well carmen! ❤️

lando: come to mclaren

y/n.l/n: no

lewishamilton: not a chance mate

lando: no fun

chloestroll: miss you ☹️

y/n.l/n: awh miss you too 🫶🥹

user7492 bro she is such a bop like what

user0183 nando is way better

user47399 i don’t think she gaf 😭

user0183 well she should

user93702 ew she should start dating someone her age, what a gold digger tf

user5378 her and nando seemed off at previous GPs I wonder what happened

user6363 she prob cheated let’s be real 😭

alexandrasaintmleux: can’t wait to see more of you ❤️

y/n.l/n: so excited!! ily so much 🫶

user3929 why do so many of you judge her 😭 like you don’t even know her 😭

Liked by author

You stifle a sob as you wipe the tears from your phone screen, letting the message from Fernando go unread.

Why couldn’t someone see it from your perspective? Why could no one try to understand, or just try.

You would never be happy, would you?

⊳ I needed to write something angst so this is that! I hope it was a good read. It was a short write but a fun one!! please leave any comments or requests!!

[austinbutlerslovers]

Model Patient 2

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Model Patient

Summary After being cared for by Dr. Butler, you find yourself needing him more than anything, making you determined to have him indefinitely.

🔗 Master List

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Austin as a doctor •compassionate •caring •adoring •doting• trial of separation•love lorn• reunited •lovers embrace• attentive with intimacy• passionate oral on fem • intuitive lovemaking • orgasms •aftercare            

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine

Model Patient 2

In the morning, you wake to an empty bed, the lingering warmth from the night before now replaced by a quiet stillness.

As you sit up, you notice a note left beside you on the pillow. It’s in Austin’s unmistakable handwriting and it makes you swoon, his thoughtfulness to leave it entirely endearing.

-Last night was incredible,I can never thank you enough. Until I see you again, take care of yourself for me, I mean it. —Austin

A small smile forms on your lips as you fold the note then you slip it carefully into the drawer of your vanity with his phone number like a secret treasure.

Heading downstairs, you find the house already clean from your dinner. On the fridge, another note awaits, written in Austin’s penmanship:

-Eat your breakfast—fruit and granola. No skipping meals.

You bite your lip softly, the corners of your mouth lifting at his attentiveness, his care for you evident even when he’s not around.

Opening the fridge, you find a bowl of fruit and granola prepared from the groceries he brought.

Sitting at the counter as you eat your “prescribed meal,” you feel his thoughtfulness and devotion settle over you, and it deepens the ache of missing him.

Over the next few days, your life resumes its relentless pace. Early mornings blur into late nights, filled with back-to-back photoshoots, interviews, and endless meetings.

Fashion Week is fast approaching, and the pressure to be flawless is heavier than ever.

The variety shoot for the cover is an elaborate setup featuring luxury pieces and dramatic makeup.

The photographer circles you, his sharp eyes scanning every detail, but he frowns, clearly dissatisfied.

“Tone it down,” he snaps at one of the assistants, his tone clipped. “She’s too… soft. Too much glow. I need her serious, distant—mysterious. This is editorial, not romantic!”

The makeup artist rushes over, quickly powdering your face, dulling the warmth in your cheeks, smoothing out the light that seems to radiate from within. You hold still as they transform you, but your thoughts drift elsewhere.

As the photographer resumes clicking, capturing the carefully curated version of you, all you can think about is the one person who created the glow they’re trying to erase.

Between poses, your mind lingers on Austin—the way his touch made you feel grounded, the way his gaze held a truth you’d never dared to believe about yourself. The ache of missing him settles deeper with every passing moment, becoming harder to ignore.

“Yes! Magnifique! This is it!” the photographer exclaims triumphantly, circling you as the camera clicks furiously. “It’s raw, yearning… this is exactly what I want!”

You hold the expression they demand—detached, melancholic—but underneath it all, your heart aches for the simplicity of being in Austin’s arms, where nothing has to be forced or fabricated.

You are the muse for Dolce & Gabbana at Fashion Week. At your fitting, the designers circle you like hawks, their sharp eyes assessing every detail of the gown on your body.

Weeks ago, the dress fit perfectly, now it subtly shifts on your frame.

As the seamstress tries to pin the midsection into place, one of the designers frowns, his brow furrowing deeply as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“This waist—it’s wrong. Wrong!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers sharply at an assistant. “The proportions are off. If she can’t work with this gown, we’ll need another dress entirely!”

Your heart sinks, a wave of inadequacy washing over you as you stand frozen, the rejection sharp and stinging.

Moments later as you change back into your own clothing, your phone vibrates.

It’s your agent. Her text is polite but firm. “They’d like you to consider a lifestyle adjustment to better fit the design’s vision.”

You know exactly what she means and place your phone in your hand bag numbly, the pressure suffocating yet all too familiar.

You bury the sting and move on—This is the life you’ve worked for, and you’d be damned if you let anyone think you can’t handle it.

By the day of the fashion show, your Vogue billboards are everywhere in Los Angeles—your face larger than life, your body draped in elegance, a symbol of perfection. Still, you feel anything but perfect as the hours tick closer to the show.

Assistants swarm around in your home , pulling at your hair, touching up your makeup, adjusting your outfit.

The chaos feels overwhelming, each second filled with precise movements. The stylist tugs firmly at your mini dress, muttering as she tries unsuccessfully to zip it up.

Finally, the dress fits, though it hugs you tightly. You glance in the mirror, the image staring back almost unrecognizable you look healthier, radiant even, and you smile.

Your phone buzzes on the table, almost missed in the commotion and when you see Austin’s name, you grab it instantly.

“Austin?” you say, your voice soft but eager.

“I see you’re in town,” he muses, his voice warm, instantly grounding you.

You laugh lightheartedly. “I’m guessing you’ve seen the billboards?”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he answers, “I’m looking at one right now, and you’re breathtaking.”

Your heart flutters, the ache of missing him swelling. “I miss you,” you out right admit, the words escaping before you can filter them.

There’s a pause, then he says, “I miss you too.” The affection is his tone unmistakable.

“Come to my show tonight,” you blurt out, your voice a mixture of hope and nerves. “I can arrange everything with my agent.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’ll be there,” his certainty wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, and you can’t help but grin, feeling the excitement to see him again.

The fashion show begins in a whirlwind of activity. You’re fitted into your first gown, a shimmering silver piece with a dramatic train. The stylist gives a final firm tug, the fabric barely moving in place.

As you step onto the runway, the lights hit you instantly. The black and gold detailing of the silver gown sparkling under the glare.

You stride forward with your signature walk, confident and commanding, a newfound pride swelling within you knowing Austin is there and the audience observes with approval, the sound blending with the rapid flash of cameras.

When you return backstage your heart is racing as assistants rush to help you change into your final gown—a masterpiece of sleek red silk, cinched perfectly at the waist. You’re the show’s closer, the pressure undeniable as they adjust every detail.

When you step onto the runway for the final walk, the adrenaline surges through you. The applause is thunderous, and as you strut down the aisle, your heart nearly stops.

Austin is in the front row, his smile wide and soft, his gaze locked on you as though you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You try to maintain your composure, but the corners of your lips curve into a soft smile, unable to hide your joy.

You make your way to the end of the runway and strike a pose, holding it for a moment as the cameras flash and the crowd erupts with applause.

As you turn to walk back your head is held high, your gown flowing like liquid elegance as you steal a glance at Austin.

The way he looks at you—his eyes full of pride, admiration, and something deeper—makes you feel invincible, like you could conquer the world in that moment.

Backstage, your heart pounds with adrenaline as you quickly join the lineup of models and the designer for his final bow.

The atmosphere is electric as you all step onto the runway together, confetti cascading from above while the crowd roars in approval.

But your focus is singular—The noise, the lights, the applause—they all blur into the background. All you see is Austin, and his gaze on you is everything.

Once the show ends, you change quickly back into your sleek black mini dress, and head to the champagne lounge with the other models.

The room buzzes with energy, a mix of laughter, champagne glasses clinking, and conversations about the show. Models draped in casual yet effortlessly chic outfits chat with designers, photographers, and industry elites.

You weave through the crowd, your eyes scanning until they land on him.

Austin stands near the entrance, his tall frame impossible to miss.

He looks devastatingly handsome. His sandy blonde hair is slightly tousled, catching the soft glow of the overhead lights, and his piercing blue eyes scan the room as if he’s been waiting for you.

He looks like a dream, a mix of charm and raw masculinity that sends a thrill down your spine.

When his gaze locks on yours, his lips curve into a slow, breathtaking smile that lights up his entire face, making your heart race.

Without hesitation, you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck and he catches you effortlessly, his hold strong as you press a kiss to his lips, the world around you fading.

The flashing of cameras pulls you back to reality, the sound followed by curios voices.

“Is this your new boyfriend?” a reporter asks, their microphone thrust toward you.

You pull back slightly, your arms still around Austin’s neck, your eyes gleaming as you glance at him. “Are you my boyfriend?” you ask teasingly, your voice light but filled with anticipation.

Austin’s hand cups your jaw gently, his gaze soft as he answers, “Yes.”

His word hangs in the air, and you feel yourself melt into him, your smile so genuine it makes your cheeks ache. You don’t care about the cameras, the crowd, or the questions.

In this moment, it’s just the two of you and as you kiss him again, it feels like everything between you perfectly falls into place.

As soon as you get through the door of your place everything becomes a blur. His hands are on you, tugging at your mini dress, his mouth crashing into yours with an urgency that makes your knees weak.

“I’ve wanted you like this ——since the moment I saw you on stage,” Austin says against your lips, his voice rough and trembling with passion.

Your hands slip under his shirt, raking across his skin as he yanks the fabric over his head, his gaze devouring you. “I missed you so much,” he breathes, his eyes blazing as his fingers slide over your hips, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t stop thinking of you”

“Show me how much you missed me” You breathe, your heart racing as you tug him toward the living room, pulling him down onto the couch with you.

His hands find your hips again, his grip firm as his lips brush over your collarbone. “You’re so perfect to me— so beautiful ,” he says, his words spilling out in a rush, each one filled with raw need.

“Let me show you “ he says guiding you back onto the cushions as his lips trail down your body leaving a fiery path in their wake.

His hands slide along your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth moves lowers and when his tongue flicks against your clit, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. Your back arcs from the couch as he finds the spot that makes your entire body tremble.

He licks and sucks with precision, his hands gripping you tightly as you try to stay still for him.

“Austin,” you moan, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him there as he pleasures you with his relentless devotion.

His name spills from your lips with every stroke of his tongue, and his moans against you vibrate through your core as he thrusts his tongue into you with perfect rhythm.

The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, your release hitting you in waves so intense you can’t stop your body from shaking.

Your hips move against his face as you cry out, your moans filling the room.

He holds you through it, his mouth never leaving you, until you’re shuddering from the aftershocks. When you finally still, your chest heaving, he looks up at you, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with satisfaction and awe.

“You’re incredible,” he says softly, his voice filled with reverence, as he kisses the inside of your thigh before moving back up.

Your hands grip his shoulders as his chest presses against yours, his lips colliding with yours in a desperate, fiery kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you devour his mouth

He groans softly, his body pressing into yours as his hardness pushes against you . With a slow, deliberate push, he thrusts into you, filling you slowly.

“Yes… yes,” you pant, your nails digging into his back as you arch against him. The stretch is intoxicating, and you gasp as he reaches a depth that no one has ever touched. He groans against your neck, his breath hot and ragged, as your body tightens around him.

You cup his face with trembling hands, forcing him to look into your eyes, the connection unbreakable as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. He braces himself, dragging his cock out slowly before pushing it back in, the motion so precise it has you reeling.

Your thighs wrap tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his back as he grips your hips, guiding you to rock against him. His thrusts roll into you perfectly, the rhythm building as you gasp and moan, breathless and lost in the overwhelming pleasure of each other.

His blue eyes burn into yours, his lips parted, his expression raw with desire and reverence. His thrusts become more intense, each one designed to unravel you completely. As he leans down, his lips find your neck, leaving hot, reverent kisses.

“I love everything about you,” he whispers against your skin, his voice filled with awe and devotion. “I’m so glad I’m yours.”

His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your body tights around him, your moans turning into cries as you shatter completely. He holds gently, his gaze fixed on yours watching every moment of your undoing with pleasure.

His thrusts become faster, more erratic, his breath hitching as he nears his own release. With a deep groan, he pushes into you one final time, his body trembling as he comes, giving you everything he has.

You hold him gently as he rocks against you, then he collapses, his breath warm against your skin.

He kisses your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere his lips can reach until you both lay there, tangled together, your bodies melting together in a heap of warmth and intimacy.

His arms wrap around you tightly, his lips pressing one last kiss to your temple as you both catch your breath in the quiet aftermath.

“You’re mine now,” you pant with a smile, your chest heaving as you look at him. He grins, his blue eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and mischief as he looks over you. “I’ve been yours from the moment I saw you,” he says, his voice low and full of adoration.

His words make your heart melt, and you pull him into a lingering kiss, his hand sliding to cradle your cheek giving you everything in this moment.

Comforted in his arms you feel a profound sense of completion —and you realize, for the first time, you don’t have to prove yourself or earn your worth—because with him, you’ve finally found where you belong

END 🩺

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[mywhisperingwords]

am i what you wanted? | fred g. weasley

summary: casual. no strings. just something to forget the loneliness. right? word count: 7.6k masterlist

The air at the party feels heavier than usual, like everyone is trying too hard to pretend they’re having a good time.

You’ve spent most of the night nursing a drink you don’t particularly like, offering polite smiles to people you barely know. It’s not your scene, but you came anyway because that’s what friends do—they drag you out, convince you it’ll be “fun,” and leave you regretting it by the second hour.

You’re just about ready to slip away when you spot him—Fred Weasley.

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, casual and effortless as always, but there’s something different tonight. The usual spark in his eyes is dimmer, his smile not quite as wide. He’s talking to someone, but his gaze keeps drifting, like he’s only half paying attention.

You consider leaving without a word. After all, you’ve spent years perfecting the art of avoiding him. Not because you dislike him—quite the opposite.

Your stupid schoolgirl crush on him hasn’t quite fizzled out, no matter how much time has passed.

And of course, there was the matter of his latest relationship, a whirlwind romance with someone you considered a friend, Leah.

It would be wrong to approach him now, wouldn’t it?

But then Fred’s eyes land on you, and there’s no escaping. He gives you a faint smile, a shadow of his usual grin, and lifts his drink in a lazy sort of greeting. It’s an invitation, subtle but unmistakable. Against your better judgment, you cross the room.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, his voice low enough to cut through the background noise without effort.

You shrug, trying to seem unaffected. “Alicia dragged me out. Said I needed to get a life or something.”

Fred huffs a quiet laugh, looking down into his glass. “Sounds like something she’d say. George said the same to me, actually. Guess misery loves company.”

The comment surprises you. Fred doesn’t usually talk like that—so openly, so vulnerable. It’s enough to make you pause, to glance at him more carefully. “You don’t seem miserable,” you say, testing the waters.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes a long sip of his drink and stares past you, like he’s trying to find the right words. “You’d be surprised,” he finally says, his tone softer now.

It’s an opening, one you hadn’t expected but can’t ignore. “What happened?”

Fred glances around, his expression unreadable, before gesturing toward the balcony. “Do you mind? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You follow him outside, where the night air is cool and quiet compared to the chaos inside. He leans against the railing, staring out at the city lights, and you stand beside him, unsure of what to say.

“She left,” he says abruptly, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about her—his ex.

“Oh.” It’s all you can manage.

Fred smiles faintly, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. Not the dramatic kind of leaving either. No big fight, no slamming doors. Just… stopped caring, I guess. Said it wasn’t enough for her.”

The confession stirs something in you, a mix of sympathy and something sharper, harder to define.

You’ve never known Fred to be anything but confident, self-assured. Seeing him like this—guarded, almost uncertain—it’s disarming.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, and you mean it.

He glances at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How loneliness sneaks up on you. One day you think you’re fine, and the next, it’s like you can’t breathe.”

You nod, because you understand more than you’d like to admit. “Yeah. It’s awful.”

Fred studies you for a moment longer before offering a faint, almost wistful smile. “You get it.”

The words settle between you, warm and unspoken, and before you can overthink it, you say, “Maybe we’re just terrible at choosing the right people.”

Fred laughs then, a soft, genuine sound that eases some of the tension in your chest. “Maybe we are.”

It feels like an unspoken agreement, a quiet acknowledgment of shared pain. And when he leans just a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, you don’t pull away.

&

The door slams shut behind you both, barely closed before Fred’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer. His mouth is on yours again, urgent and consuming, and the world outside this moment ceases to exist.

You’re not sure how it started—or maybe you do—but you’re too caught up in the feel of him, in the way he kisses like he’s unraveling a part of himself he’s never shown anyone.

Your back hits the edge of the couch, but Fred doesn’t stop. He moves with you, stumbling through the dark like neither of you can think beyond each other.

You barely make it to the bedroom. A trail of discarded shoes and jackets marks the path, forgotten in the haze.

He pauses only briefly, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. “This…” he begins, his voice rough, barely a whisper. “This is what I needed. Something… easy. No expectations.”

The words are quiet but land with a weight that sticks somewhere in your chest. You know what he means—casual, uncomplicated, something to dull the ache of loneliness he spoke of earlier.

Your heart lurches, but your mind, clouded with want and the intoxicating proximity of him, nods before you can think it through. “Yeah,” you murmur, barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

The lie tastes bitter even as the kiss resumes, as his lips trail down your neck, as his hands find your skin. You tell yourself you’re fine with this. It’s Fred, and it’s what he wants. Isn’t it better to have this than nothing at all?

When morning comes, he’s gone.

You’re not surprised—he doesn’t strike you as the type to linger—but the silence in the room feels deafening. The sheets are cold where he was, and you stare at the ceiling, replaying his words in your head.

Something easy. No expectations.

Your agreement, muffled and uncertain, rings louder now. You agreed. This is what you signed up for. So why does your chest ache? Why does it feel like you’ve made a mistake you can’t undo?

You sit up, the mess of the night scattered around you—a shirt draped over the chair, an overturned glass on the table. It’s all so mundane, yet it feels like the air has shifted in your room, like the walls are pressing in.

You bury your face in your hands, letting out a slow, measured breath. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision. But you can’t change it now. Fred was what you wanted for so long, wasn’t he? Maybe this is all you get.

Maybe this is all you’re allowed to have.

You hope you can convince yourself of that.

&

The pub is buzzing, laughter and conversation spilling out from every corner as you sit wedged between Alicia and George.

Fred is across from you, casually leaning back in his chair, a pint of beer balanced between his long fingers. His laughter blends with the noise around you, effortlessly charming, as always.

It’s easy to forget, in moments like this, that this is supposed to be casual. Easy.

You catch yourself watching him longer than you should, noting the way his hair falls into his eyes when he laughs, the way his smile lingers just enough to make your stomach twist.

You remind yourself to look away.

The conversation circles back to someone’s recent breakup, a natural segue into a casual remark about Fred’s ex.

It’s Angelina, sitting two seats down, who says it without malice—just an innocent mention of the girl who was once by his side.

“You were so into her, Fred. Thought you two were endgame, honestly,” she says with a smile, tipping her glass toward him.

Fred’s expression flickers, just for a second, but it’s enough to change the energy at the table. The easy grin falters, his fingers tightening around the glass. “Yeah, well,” he says, voice light but guarded, “things don’t always work out the way you think they will.”

The group catches on quickly, steering the conversation elsewhere, but you can’t take your eyes off him. There’s something in the way his shoulders tense, in the way he avoids eye contact, that makes your chest tighten.

The rest of the evening is a blur of noise and small talk. You find yourself gravitating toward the bar, needing space, needing air. But you don’t get far.

Fred appears beside you, leaning on the counter with a quiet sigh. His eyes are darker now, shadows of something unspoken behind them. He doesn’t say anything, just glances at you, and suddenly the air feels heavier.

“Come with me,” he mutters all of the sudden, so low you almost don’t hear it.

You hesitate, your heart skipping, but you follow.

He leads you down a narrow hallway, past the kitchen, until you’re standing outside the bathroom door. He checks once over his shoulder before pulling you in, locking the door behind him.

“Fred, what are you—”

He cuts you off, his mouth crashing into yours with a force that takes your breath away.

It’s messy, hurried, like he’s trying to drown something out. His hands find your waist, pressing you against the cold tile wall, and you can feel the tension in his grip, the desperation in the way he kisses you.

It’s different this time—more frantic, less controlled. There’s no room to think, no space for words, just the heat of him against you and the quiet hum of the pub muffled beyond the door.

When it’s over, you’re both catching your breath, the silence settling around you like a weight. Fred’s forehead rests against yours, and for a moment, it feels like he might say something—something real, something vulnerable.

But then he steps back, adjusting his shirt, his eyes not quite meeting yours. “Thanks,” he mutters, almost too softly, and the word hits you like a slap.

You blink, trying to find something to say, but he’s already unlocking the door, slipping out like nothing happened.

You’re left standing there, the cold tiles against your back, your pulse still racing. You stare at the empty space where he was, your mind replaying the moment in vivid detail.

Something about this feels wrong. But then again, wasn’t this what you agreed to?

&

It’s late. Later than late, really, with the kind of stillness in the air that only comes when the rest of the world is sleeping.

But you’re wide awake, perched on the edge of your couch with a half-empty glass of wine in your hand, listening to the faint hum of the city outside.

You don’t know why you’re waiting.

Or maybe you do, but admitting it feels like giving it more weight than it deserves.

It’s been a few days since you saw Fred—since he showed up at your door for the first time, with that crooked smile and a cocky, unspoken challenge in his eyes.

You hadn’t known what to expect then, and you still don’t know now. But when you hear the knock at your door, your chest tightens in anticipation anyway.

You set the glass down and cross the room, opening the door to find him leaning against the frame, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

“Bit late for a social call, don’t you think?” you tease, though your voice wavers just slightly.

Fred grins, that easy, practiced grin that always feels like it’s hiding something. “Thought you might say that. But then, you’re still awake, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and step aside, letting him in. He walks past you, his steps slow and deliberate, like he’s taking his time to assess the space.

It’s not the first time he’s been here, but he looks around like it is, his gaze lingering on the small details you’d never think to notice.

“You always keep it this tidy?” he asks, turning to face you with a smirk.

“I knew you were coming, didn’t I?” you shoot back, closing the door behind him.

Fred laughs, the sound low and warm, and suddenly the room feels smaller.

It’s always like this with him—this electric push and pull that leaves you feeling off-balance and exhilarated all at once.

He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the back of a chair, and then he’s sitting on your couch like he’s been doing it for years.

You join him, keeping a safe distance between you, but it doesn’t matter. The tension fills the space anyway, a quiet, unspoken thing neither of you is willing to address.

“So,” Fred says, his eyes flicking to the wine glass you left on the table. “Drinking alone, are we? Rough night?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not rough. Just… quiet.”

Fred hums, leaning back and stretching an arm along the back of the couch. His fingers are close enough to brush your shoulder, but they don’t.

“Well,” he says after a beat, “I’m good at making noise. Want me to liven things up?”

You turn to look at him, arching a brow at his choice of words. “That depends. What exactly do you have in mind?”

He grins again, wider this time, and before you know it, you’re caught up in one of his ridiculous stories—something about a prank that went wrong back at Hogwarts and ended with George covered in soot and screaming about cursed cauldrons.

You’re laughing so hard your sides hurt, the kind of laugh that feels like it’s shaking loose all the tension you’ve been carrying for days. Fred is laughing too, his head thrown back, his shoulders shaking.

And for a moment, it’s easy to forget the doubts gnawing at the edges of your mind.

But then the story ends, and the laughter fades, and the room feels too quiet again.

Fred’s laughter dies in his throat first. He turns his head toward you, the space between you charged, his expression softening as his eyes flicker to your lips.

“You’re staring,” you whisper, trying to keep your tone light, but your pulse betrays you.

“Am I?” he murmurs back, his voice low and teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that makes it hard to breathe.

You don’t know who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you—but suddenly, the space between you disappears. His mouth meets yours in a rush of heat and hunger, and your body reacts without thought, your hands tangling in his hair as he pulls you closer.

He tastes like mint and something else, something unmistakably Fred, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

It starts like it always does—feverish and desperate, hands searching, breaths stolen. Fred’s hands find the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, and your back hits the cushions of the couch before you even realize you’ve moved.

But somewhere in the middle of it—between the hurried kisses and the whispered curses—something shifts.

His touch slows, his fingers trailing along your skin with an almost reverent softness. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like there’s more to this than just a casual arrangement.

Your chest tightens, and you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat.

Fred pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out if you feel it too.

But then the moment passes, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head like he’s dismissing some unwelcome thought. He presses a lingering kiss to your collarbone before shifting his weight and standing, grabbing his jacket from the chair.

“Leaving already?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred hesitates, his back to you. “Yeah,” he says, his tone lighter than the moment calls for. “Gotta keep you wanting more, don’t I?”

The grin he throws over his shoulder is forced, you think, but you don’t call him on it.

You watch him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and you’re left alone again, your chest tight and your mind racing.

This is what you signed up for, you remind yourself. Casual. Fun. No strings attached.

So why does it already feel like so much more?

&

The party isn’t much different from the last one. A haze of laughter and music hangs in the air, the dimly lit living room thrumming with energy as bodies mill about. You’re leaning against a wall, clutching a drink, when you spot him across the room.

Fred.

Your breath catches—not because you didn’t expect him to be here, but because it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this since everything began.

In the few weeks since that night, he’s always shown up at your door under cover of darkness, a secret that slips away before the world wakes. Now, he’s here, among friends, out in the open. It feels… surreal.

His eyes catch yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he looks away. You should probably do the same, pretend he’s just another person at the party, someone you barely know outside of shared jokes and casual conversations.

But something about seeing him here, the same Fred everyone else knows, tangles in your chest.

The game between you feels different now. Riskier.

You manage to avoid each other for most of the night, though you’re painfully aware of him. The way his laugh carries over the music. The effortless charm in the way he leans against the kitchen counter, surrounded by people.

But it’s when you least expect it that it happens.

You’ve slipped into the quiet hallway, hoping for a moment to breathe. He appears from nowhere, leaning casually against the wall a few feet away. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, low enough that no one else could hear.

You swallow, refusing to meet his gaze. “You’ve been avoiding me too.”

A ghost of a smirk crosses his face. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches, filled only by the distant hum of the party, the bass thudding like a heartbeat. Then he shifts closer—too close, considering the thin walls and prying eyes just a room away.

“This is risky,” you murmur, though you don’t move away.

“Since when do you mind risky?” he counters, his voice teasing but quiet. There’s a flicker of warmth in his tone, a reminder of those moments when he’s let his guard down just enough to let you in.

You should push him away, but you don’t.

Instead, you glance up, and for the briefest second, he looks at you like he’s about to say something important. Something real. But he doesn’t. He’s Fred, after all.

Instead, his hand brushes yours, a fleeting touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “You know I shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You hesitate, your chest tightening. “Then why are you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers graze your wrist, light and hesitant, before he steps back, creating a distance that feels far too wide.

“I shouldn’t be,” he says again, as though repeating it will make it true. Then, softer, “But I am.”

The air between you feels heavier than it should. He’s pulling away again, retreating into the shell of secrecy he’s so carefully built. It frustrates you more than it should.

“You don’t have to make this so complicated,” you say, surprising even yourself.

Fred’s jaw tightens. He glances at the door leading back to the party, his gaze distant, before his eyes flicker back to you. “You think it’s that easy?”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know how to.

Instead, he leans in, his voice a whisper. “Careful. Someone might see us.” His words are teasing, but there’s an edge of something sharper beneath them.

And then he’s gone, disappearing back into the crowd as though nothing happened.

You’re left standing there, your heart racing and your thoughts tangled in ways you can’t quite unravel.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You don’t see him again, but his presence lingers like a shadow, like a secret you can’t escape.

And when you finally leave the party, stepping out into the cool night air, you can’t help but wonder if this game you’re playing is one you’ll ever win—or if it’s one you’ll lose before it even truly begins.

&

It’s been days since the party.

Days of wondering if Fred will show up again, if you’ll hear that familiar knock on your door in the dead of night. He doesn’t call, doesn’t send any owl—not that you expected him to. But his absence still gnaws at you.

When the knock finally comes, it’s past midnight. You hesitate for a moment, standing barefoot in the hallway, staring at the door like it might vanish if you blink. Then, as if on instinct, you reach for the handle.

Fred is there, leaning against the frame, his hair tousled, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything, just steps inside, his hands finding your waist almost immediately.

It’s fast, like always. A trail of kisses down your neck, murmured words you can barely catch, and then you’re stumbling toward the bedroom. It’s almost routine now—the way he knows exactly how to pull you apart, the way he leaves before the sun comes up.

It’s the same pattern, the same urgency, like he’s trying to chase away whatever’s haunting him.

Only this time, he leaves without saying much of anything. A quick glance back, a muttered “I’ll see you,” and then the door clicks shut behind him.

The quiet that follows feels heavier than it should. You sit on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the empty doorway, wondering why the familiar ache feels sharper tonight.

&

Alicia’s offer couldn’t come at a better time. “You need a reset,” she says, twirling her straw in her iced tea. “Seriously, this guy is perfect. Smart, funny, normal. Give it a shot.”

It’s not like you have anything better to do, so you agree.

The date is fine. Fine. Paul is nice—charming, even—but there’s no spark. By the end of the night, you’re both laughing about how you’d make better friends than anything else.

It’s late when you finally get home, the streets quiet and dimly lit. You’re fishing for your keys when you notice the shadow near your door.

Fred.

He’s leaning against the frame, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He looks up as you approach, his gaze flickering to the key in your hand before settling on your face.

“You’re out late,” he says, his voice casual.

“I had plans,” you reply, matching his tone as you unlock the door. You don’t elaborate, and neither does he.

Inside, the tension follows you, crackling in the air as you set your bag down and turn to face him. He’s watching you, his expression neutral but his shoulders taut, like he’s holding something back.

“How were the plans?” he asks, his voice steady, but there’s an edge to it you can’t quite place.

“They were fine,” you say. “We’re better off as friends.”

He nods, his lips pressing into a thin line, and for a moment, you think that’s the end of it. But then he’s stepping closer, his hands finding your waist like they always do.

This time, it’s different. His kisses are rougher, his grip firmer, but there’s something else underneath it—a quiet desperation, like he’s trying to claim something without admitting it. His hands linger longer, his lips move slower, and you let yourself lean into it, pretending not to notice the shift.

Afterward, he’s quiet again, lying beside you in the dark. The air feels heavier, and you can sense the walls going back up before he even moves to get dressed.

As he pulls on his shirt, he pauses, standing by the door with his back to you. For a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something, but instead, he runs a hand through his hair and exhales softly.

Then, just before he leaves, he glances back over his shoulder, his gaze flickering to yours. “Let me know when you’re too busy.”

It’s barely a whisper, so quiet you almost miss it. But there’s something in the way he says it, something unsaid lurking beneath the words, that lingers long after he’s gone.

You sit there in the dark, replaying the moment over and over, wondering why it feels like he just said goodbye.

&

Angelina’s birthday party is already in full swing by the time you stumble through the door, only half-committed to being there. The laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses—it’s all too loud, too bright, too much.

But you came anyway, maybe out of habit, or maybe because part of you hoped you’d find a distraction in the chaos.

Fred is here. You noticed him immediately. He’s impossible not to notice, leaning against the bar, his easy smile tugging at something in your chest you’ve been trying to ignore. He hasn’t come near you, hasn’t even spared you more than a glance. But that glance—it felt like it saw too much.

You bury your feelings in your drink, letting the bitterness of it settle the knots in your stomach. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, what’s with the face?” Alicia’s voice cuts through the noise as she drops onto the couch beside you. “You look like someone just ran over your cat.”

“I’m fine,” you lie, swirling the last of your drink. “Just…thinking.”

“About your nonexistent love life again?” she teases, nudging your shoulder. “Seriously, you need to loosen up. Or at least stop picking all the wrong people.”

You force a laugh, but it feels hollow. Alicia doesn’t know. No one does. You’ve kept Fred a secret, just as he asked. The weight of it presses heavier tonight, threatening to spill over as you down the rest of your drink and reach for another.

As the night goes on, the alcohol blurs the edges of everything. Faces blend together, voices turn to static, and you’re left moping in the corner, the ache in your chest louder than any song playing.

Fred’s there, somewhere. You’ve caught glimpses of him—his easy posture stiffened, his smile more strained than usual. But he doesn’t approach, and you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking too long.

By the end of the night, most people have left, and the crowd has thinned out. You’re sitting on the couch, staring at the bottom of your empty glass, when a shadow falls over you.

“Let’s get you home,” Fred says, his voice low but firm.

You look up at him, the alcohol dulling your usual instincts. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but there’s something gentler in his gaze, something that makes your chest tighten.

You don’t resist when he helps you up, his arm steady around your waist as he guides you out the door. The walk home is quiet, the chill of the night air biting at your skin. Fred doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence feels heavier than usual.

When you finally reach your flat, he helps you inside, sitting you down on the couch as he disappears into the kitchen. He returns with a glass of water, kneeling in front of you.

“Drink,” he says simply.

You take the glass, your hands shaking slightly as you bring it to your lips.

“Fred,” you start after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. “Stay.”

He looks at you, startled by the request. “I—”

“Please.” The word spills out before you can stop it, raw and pleading. “Just for the night. I don’t want to be alone.”

He hesitates, his expression flickering between something unreadable and something achingly vulnerable. Then, finally, he nods. “Alright.”

Relief washes over you as he helps you to your feet again, guiding you to your bedroom. He’s careful as he tucks you into bed, his hand lingering briefly on your shoulder before he steps back.

“You’ll stay?” you ask again, your voice softer now.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, his voice low and steady.

You don’t remember falling asleep.

When you wake up, the room is quiet, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a moment, you lie there, disoriented, the haze of last night still clinging to your thoughts.

Then you notice it—the bed is empty.

Your stomach drops, a hollow ache blooming in your chest as you sit up. The other side of the bed is cool to the touch, and for a moment, you wonder if he left as soon as you fell asleep. The ache sharpens, and you feel foolish for believing he’d actually stay.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you bury your face in your hands. Of course, he left. Of course, this is what it always is with him—half-hearted promises and fleeting moments that never mean as much as you want them to.

It’s only when you lower your hands that you notice it.

A glass of water and a small packet of painkillers sit neatly on the nightstand.

Your breath catches as you reach for the glass, the pieces falling together in your mind. The bed might be cool now, but the faint warmth lingering on the pillow tells a different story.

And then you hear it—the faint click of your front door closing.

Your chest tightens, your heart pounding as you realize the truth: Fred stayed. He kept his promise.

The ache in your chest softens, replaced by something you can’t quite name. It’s not relief, not entirely. It’s something more fragile, more complicated.

He stayed.

And for now, that’s enough.

&

The pub feels suffocating tonight, the air heavy with laughter and music that’s a touch too loud. You’re sitting at the edge of the booth again, nursing the remnants of your drink while the conversation at the table flows around you. Fred is there too, only a few feet away but worlds apart, as always.

At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

But tonight, something is different. You’ve caught him looking at you more than once, a flicker of warmth in his gaze that lingers just a moment too long before he turns away.

And then there are the little things—how he slid the drinks menu your way when you couldn’t reach, the casual way his hand brushed yours when passing the salt, and the faint smirk on his lips when you dropped your napkin, like he found your clumsiness amusing.

It’s maddening. These small, almost imperceptible gestures that would mean nothing if it were anyone else, but with Fred, they feel like everything.

You glance his way now, trying not to linger. He’s leaned back in his chair, his long fingers drumming lazily against the table, his attention seemingly on George, who’s telling some animated story about a prank gone wrong. But then, as if he feels your eyes on him, Fred looks up.

The corners of his mouth twitch, and there it is again—that fleeting, private smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

It’s a cruel kind of softness. The kind that makes you want more.

“Leaving soon?” His voice pulls you back, low enough that it barely cuts through the noise, and you realize he’s speaking to you.

Your heart skips. You shrug, trying to feign indifference. “Maybe. You?”

His smirk deepens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Not yet.”

The words hang between you, unspoken but understood. The plan forms, unspoken as always. You’ll leave first, and he’ll follow.

When the clock creeps toward midnight, you push yourself up, offering the table a vague excuse about an early morning. Fred doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the tension, the way his fingers still against the table as you grab your things and step into the cool night air.

The sharp contrast of the quiet street is a relief at first, but it doesn’t last. Your thoughts churn, the familiar mix of guilt and longing rising to the surface. You shake your head, trying to focus on the walk home when you see her.

Leah.

She’s leaning against the wall just outside the pub, her arms crossed, the faint glow of a cigarette in her hand. She looks up when she hears you, her face illuminated by the streetlamp above.

“Hey,” she says, her tone casual but her gaze sharp.

You freeze, your chest tightening. “Hey.”

Her lips quirk into something that’s not quite a smile, and she takes a slow drag of her cigarette before exhaling, the smoke curling into the air between you.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says, tilting her head slightly.

She must’ve watched you—you hadn’t even noticed her in the pub. Had Fred?

You force a shrug, your voice tight. “Long day.”

She hums, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Fred seemed to have been distracted too. Must’ve been one of those days for everyone, huh?”

The mention of his name sends a jolt through you, but you keep your expression as neutral as you can manage. “Yeah, maybe.”

Leah watches you for a moment longer, her gaze unsettlingly calm. She takes another drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under her heel. “You two seemed friendly tonight.”

Your stomach twists, but you don’t falter. “We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Her lips press together, her expression unreadable. “Sure.”

The pub door swings open, the sound spilling into the street, and your heart sinks as Fred steps out. His hair is a little messy, his face flushed from the warmth of the pub. He glances around, his eyes landing on you almost immediately.

“There you are,” he says, his tone light as he steps closer. “What’s taking so long? I thought you’d—”

His words die as his gaze shifts, landing on Leah.

His smile falters, and for a moment, the easy confidence he always carries slips. “Leah.”

“Fred,” she says smoothly, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp as they flick between the two of you.

He straightens, shoving his hands into his pockets as the tension thickens.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice tighter now.

You feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You glance between them, your chest tightening. You can’t do this. The weight of the secrecy, the guilt, the unspoken accusations—it’s too much.

“I was just leaving,” you say quickly, your voice steadier than you feel.

Fred’s gaze snaps to you, his brow furrowing. “Wait—”

“I’ll see you later,” you cut him off, stepping away before either of them can stop you.

You won’t see him later, you’re sure of it.

The last thing you hear as you walk away is Fred’s voice, quieter now but still tinged with something you can’t quite place.

“Leah, we should talk.”

You don’t look back. You can’t.

&

You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint hum of the city outside is no comfort tonight. It’s too quiet, too still, and your mind refuses to stop racing.

You picture them together—Fred and Leah. You imagine their conversation, her calm but sharp gaze and his uneasy expression. Maybe they’re sitting close, voices low and familiar, smoothing over the jagged edges of their breakup. Maybe they’ll work things out. Maybe they’re already back together.

The thought is a knife to the chest, twisting deeper with every passing second. You roll onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, but it doesn’t help. The ache is relentless, carving itself into every corner of your heart.

Hours pass. The clock on your nightstand glows faintly, marking the time you’ve spent wide awake. 2:47 a.m. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, but your mind won’t let you rest.

You try to reason with yourself. Fred never promised you anything. This was always supposed to be casual, meaningless—a fleeting distraction for both of you. You knew that. You agreed to it.

And yet.

A sharp knock cuts through the silence, jolting you upright. For a moment, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

Another knock.

You stumble out of bed, heart pounding, and shuffle to the door. When you open it, Fred is standing there, his hair disheveled, his shirt wrinkled like he’d left in a hurry. The faint light of the hallway casts shadows across his face, but his eyes are clear, intense.

You can’t speak. You just step aside, and he walks in without a word.

The door closes behind him, the lock clicking softly into place. He turns to you, his gaze searching, but whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t say. He just steps closer, his hands brushing against your arms before they settle on your waist, pulling you toward him.

There are no questions, no explanations. Just his mouth on yours, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the way you feel.

It’s different this time.

The usual rush of urgency is gone, replaced by something quieter, softer. He touches you like you’re fragile, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful. His hands linger, tracing patterns on your skin, and his lips trail down your neck with an almost reverent slowness.

When he lifts you, carrying you to the bed, it’s not hurried or thoughtless. He lays you down gently, his weight pressing into you as his lips find yours again.

It’s almost too much. The tenderness, the quiet intensity—it’s overwhelming in a way that makes your chest ache.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is goodbye. If this is Fred’s way of ending things, giving you something to remember before he walks away for good.

The thought makes your throat tighten, but you don’t stop him. You can’t.

When it’s over, you lie there in the dark, the sheets tangled around you, his arm draped loosely over your waist. His breathing is steady, his body warm against yours, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is enough. That this could be enough.

But then he stirs, pulling away.

You turn to watch him as he sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t look at you as he stands, gathering his clothes and pulling them on with quiet efficiency.

Your chest tightens, but you don’t say anything. You just watch as he moves to the door.

He hesitates, his hand on the knob, and for a moment, you think he might say something. But he doesn’t. He just turns back to you, his expression unreadable, and steps closer.

He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s the kind of tenderness he’s never shown before, the kind that makes your heart break even as it swells.

When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. There’s something there, something unspoken, but before you can grasp it, he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the ache in your chest heavier than ever.

This is goodbye, you think.

You close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come.

&

The weeks without Fred are a blur of emotions, each one more exhausting than the last. Some days, you manage to feel like yourself again, like the world might not actually end without him. Other days, the grief hits you like a wave, dragging you under with the weight of all the unsaid words and the things you wished could’ve been.

Your friends help, of course. Alicia keeps you busy with plans you don’t want to make, and Angelina sends you pep talks at odd hours of the night. But there’s a hollow ache they can’t touch, a space inside you carved out by Fred and left empty when he walked away.

You try to fill it with distractions—new books, long walks, even the occasional half-hearted date—but nothing works. Because no matter what you’re doing, your thoughts always circle back to him. To the warmth of his hands, the sound of his laugh, the way he looked at you that night before he left.

The worst part is the silence.

For weeks, there’s no word from Fred. No knocks at your door, no teasing notes slipped under the frame. He’s just… gone. And while you tell yourself that’s what you wanted—that it’s for the best—you can’t stop wondering where he is. What he’s doing. If he’s with her.

And then, one day, the silence breaks.

It’s mid-afternoon, and you’re home, though you have no memory of how you spent the morning. The hours have blurred together in a haze of restless pacing and half-formed thoughts, none of which have brought you any peace.

When the knock comes, you almost don’t hear it. It’s soft, tentative, like the person on the other side isn’t sure they’re welcome.

Your heart stutters.

You tell yourself it’s probably Alicia or Angelina, or maybe even Leah. But when you open the door, it’s Fred.

He looks different in the daylight. There’s no mischievous grin, no late-night bravado. Just him, standing on your doorstep, his shoulders tense and his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Hi,” he says, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

You stare at him, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or slam the door in his face. “What are you doing here?”

Fred shifts, glancing past you into the flat before meeting your gaze again. “Can I come in?”

You want to say no. You want to tell him to leave, to take all the chaos and heartbreak he’s brought into your life and walk away for good. But instead, you step aside, letting him in.

Fred moves to the middle of the room and stops, his eyes scanning the space like he’s trying to memorize it. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t relax, just stands there, his weight shifting from foot to foot.

“I didn’t know if you’d let me in,” he admits after a moment.

“Why are you here, Fred?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place—guilt, maybe, or fear. “I needed to see you. To explain.”

“Explain what? That you left? That you couldn’t give me what I wanted? What I needed?” Your voice wavers, betraying the anger you’ve been holding onto for weeks.

Fred flinches but doesn’t look away. “Yes. All of it.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

“I was a mess when we started this,” he says finally, his voice low and steady. “Leah and I were over, but I wasn’t okay. I told myself I didn’t want anything serious, that I couldn’t handle it. And then you…”

You hold your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You made me feel like I could handle it,” Fred says, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And that scared me. It made me feel wrong, like I was moving on too fast. Like I didn’t deserve it.”

You blink, his words sinking in.

“I pushed you away because I was scared,” he admits, meeting your eyes again. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “And now? Are you still scared?”

“Yes,” Fred says without hesitation. “But I’m more scared of not being with you. Of letting you slip away because I was too much of a coward to fight for this.”

Your breath catches, your chest tightening with a mix of hope and fear. “And what happens when it gets hard again? When you start to feel like it’s too much?”

Fred takes a step closer, his expression earnest. “Then I’ll tell you. And we’ll figure it out together. Because I’m done running, and I’m done pretending this doesn’t mean something.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much. You look away, your hands trembling as you try to keep your emotions in check.

“What are you asking for, Fred?” you whisper.

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. Then he reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. “I’m asking for a chance. To do this right. To give you what you’ve always deserved.”

You close your eyes, his words washing over you like a wave.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely audible. “But we take it slow. No more secrets, no more running. We do this the right way.”

Fred nods, a small, relieved smile breaking through his tension. “Slow. Got it.”

He steps back then, extending a hand like he’s meeting you for the first time. “Hi. I’m Fred. Nice to meet you.”

You laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Nice to meet you, Fred.”

For a moment, you let yourself smile, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. Then you glance at his outstretched hand, raising an eyebrow. “Though I have to say, you look a lot like this guy I used to know. Total pain in the arse, but surprisingly charming when he wanted to be.”

Fred grins, his eyes lighting up in that way that always makes your heart skip a beat. “Well, I’m hoping I’m nothing like him. He sounds awful.”

“He was,” you say, shaking his hand firmly. “But I think you might be an improvement.”

Fred laughs, the sound warm and unrestrained, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe again.

[tarnishedsilverjewelry]

Hola! Me alegro de ver otro blog de M ^^

Can I request Bi-Han as a parent of a boy or girl around 4 or 5 years old who is very clingy? they don't leave his side and follow him wherever he goes. I love clingy kids, they're so adorable, and I definitely love reading domestic Bi-han.

What fatherhood does to a man

A/n: It’s getting harder and harder to NOT name these ‘The father That stepped up’ guys😭 Also, ah yes the grumpy old man and adopted sunshine child trope my BELOVED!!!! Also I see everyone saying Bi Han is mean and I’ve seen some ppl make him abusive WHICH IS WRONG!!!!! He is raised on tradition!!! Tomas says a line that says “his father’s honor” insisted on taking him in!! HES GRUFF AND A GENTLEMAN!!! HES ONLY MEAN TO HIS BROTHERS🗣️🗣️🗣️….sorry I got a little heated there💔 also also this is based on something saw here (I can’t remember who posted it, sorry) which was like what if Bi Han was pretending and didn’t actually betray his brothers so…yeah

Warnings: Mentioned death, blood and gore. Also angst. Bi Han actually has a heart guys‼️‼️‼️ so maybe ooc and also also no use of Y/n. The child has a name:3

Bi Han stared at the small girl in front of him

She and her family had unfortunately been caught in Lin Kuei battles, which led to the death of her parents by the hands of the enemy clan.

Bi Han stared at her, clutching her fathers cold hand with both of hers begging him to wake up saying that mommy wasn’t waking up either with a blood covered blanket and two stuffed animals crammed under her arms. One bright pink winged-cat plushy and a pastel pink and pastel purple unicorn with holographic tinsel in its mane

Bi Han sighed, and walked towards her, going in his knees to seem less scary. “Child, your parents will not wake..I…I’m sorry.” She turned to him, tears pouring out of her eyes and in a shakey voice asked “Why not?” Bi Han sucked in a breath.

He was a man most acquainted with seeing gore and death. Seeing bodies and blood with nothing new to him, but she couldn’t be older than 4. She’d lived in a secluded house with her parents and farm animals, and he doubted they would slaughter the animals in front of her.

“They…were caught in the cross fire. And unfortunately they have ascended to the heavens, and cannot bring you with them.” How he wished his brothers were here. He was raised to see emotions has weak as the future Grandmaster. “But they will watch over you and guide you as best they can from where they are.” He added quickly, remembering the line from the day Tomas was brought home

The girl nodded, and looked back at her parents corpses. “Oh. So I’m all alone?” Bi Han shook his head. “No, if you allow me to..I will take care of you. I know I will never replace your parents, but I will try to raise you fairly.” The blue ninja awkward opened his arms for her, and she collapsed in them sobbing.

Bi Han would normally be annoyed with the child, but now seeing a girl so young lose her whole life in one night by the enemy…he couldn’t even imagine being upset with her. Not when she got snot and tears on his uniform (not the shoulder he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her with the pointed shoulders), or when she asked him to gather what little remained of her old life.

When Tomas bright with him a small box of memories from his old family—he’d scoffed at it. Tomas would be a Lin Kuei now, he had a new family now. What did he need with memories from before?

But now? Now he understood. Bi Han helped her find what remained from her old room—A few pink floral pillow, 3 hand made quilts, a set of slightly burnt ice skating gear, and more stuffed animals—before finding a box large enough to fit what little was salvageable. When something caught his eye. On the floor was a fallen bookcase, and strewn across the floor were pictures of her parents.

Bi Han asked her if she’d like them, and she nodded trying to wiggle out of his grip. “No, there is glass on the floor. You don’t have shoes on, you could be hurt.” She nodded, sulking only slightly. Bi Han set the box down and helped her pick out 5 pictures of her parents, and 3 of all three of them. He even managed to find two fairly large photo albums that were fairly good condition to take too.

“Bi Han?!” Finally, his brothers were here. The girl whimpered slightly and leaned back against him. “It’s alright. It is only my brothers.” He assured her quietly, repacking her things before walking out. “Brother wh—“ Kuai Liang stopped short seeing the girl tear streaked face and covered in soot and blood. “Oh dear..” he muttered, walking forward.

Tomas followed him, reaching out for the box Bi Han held. “Hello there,” He smiled slightly at her “my name is Kuai Liang. What is yours?” She peered up at Bi Han who nodded slightly at her “Chao-Xing.” She muttered, cuddling further into his elder brother. “How old are you, Chao-Xing?” Tomas asked softly. “I turned 4 yesterday.”

Bi Han silenced their bubbling questions, looking down at the uncomfortable girl who was growing more and more tired. “Enough questions, let’s head back. She is tired.” He said firmly, taking the lead of the group who nodded.

They arrived at camp in two hours, and would be back at the compound the next afternoon if they left before first light. “Grandmaster!” Sektor called loudly, drawing attention. Chao-Xing stirred slightly, and Bi Han silenced her with a glare. “Quiet, Sektor. We will talk soon.” He growled, breezing past her heading for the tent that had been set up for him.

Bi Han tucked her into his bed, leaving the box of her things at the foot of the bed and left guards with stern orders to find him if she startled awake. Then he left to find Sektor and his brothers.

That night, he slept in the chair in his large tent, and when he woke Chao-Xing was curled up in his lap. Bi Han picked her up and wrapped her up in the small throw blanket that was on his bed to keep her warm on the journey.

He oversaw the clan packing up tents as the sun rose, and when Chao-Xing woke up he plated her some breakfast and ate with her on his right knee. The journey to the compound was quick, Chao-Xing fell back asleep some time before arriving and awoke to him ordering someone to clean her things and take them to her new room.

“Chao-Xing, would you like a tour of the compound? I can show you the gardens?” Kuai Liang offered, and she nodded somewhat hesitantly. “Not yet, she needs lunch first. And then she’s getting her measurements taken for new clothes, and then a trip to the medics.” Bi Han told his brother. Hua frowned. “No shots?” She asked quietly. “If they aren’t needed, then no.” She seemed satisfied with that, and let Bi Han take her to wherever her lunch was

After her trip to the doctors, where she thankfully got not shots, Kuai Liang and Tomas took her around the compound and ended the tour in the flower gardens. Chao-Xing enjoyed the gardens, mainly for the koi pond in it.

“Careful Chao-Xing! Don’t fall in!” Tomas laughed, gently pulling her away from the edge of the pond “I like fishes. Pretty.” She replied, looking at the fish in awe. “Yes they’re quite pretty, aren’t they? Maybe in the morning you can come out here and help feed them.” Kuai Liang said, enjoying the way her smile widened

At dinner time, Bi Han found them laying in front of the koi pond with Chao-Xing between his brothers. “Chao-Xing, dinner.” He said, voice surprisingly gentle. She stood up and ran over to him, talking about how pretty the fish were. “Yes the fish are very pretty.” He agreed, eyes drifting to his brothers in silent thanks.

Kuai Liang talked about her possibly feeding the fish, which made her perk up. So of course he agreed, and said he’d do it with her. But only if she ate her veggies at dinner. She poured up at him, but he managed to keep strong against her puppy dog eyes

Tomas struggled to not point out how easily he took to fatherhood.

Weeks passed, and soon Chao-Xing had been here a full month. It became routine for Bi Han to wake up to her curled up in his bed, and before breakfast they would feed the koi fish together. Then he’d help her chose an outfit and get dressed, go eat breakfast and train while Chao-Xing did her lessons

Chao-Xing proved to be a very smart girl, and finished her lessons an hour early every day (unless it was cursive then she finished her lessons on time) and always watched him train with his brothers

Then it was time for lunch, after which Bi Han would take her to the sides of the training grounds and meditate with her before teaching her basic stances for kombat. After that, she really had free rein to do anything within reason. But she chose to follow him around quietly.

Her wide eyes never strayed far from him, she even would sit outside his office during meetings. He would exit to see her staring up at him, pink winged cat plush in hand. She was always hot on his heels, and he didn’t mind too much. She was 4, and lost her family in a very traumatic situation. He couldn’t understand fully, but he could be sympathetic.

One night when he was tucking her in, and checking for monster per her request he asked her. “Why do you not sleep in your bed? I don’t mind waking up to you in my bed, I’m only wondering.” Chao-Xing sniffled and admitted “I keep getting afraid you’ll go where mommy and daddy went. And I’ll be alone.” Bi Han swallowed thickly. “Even if I did go there, which I’m not, you would still have the Lin Kuei to look after you, and Kuai Laing and Tomas to care for you.” She smiled a little at him. Bi Han smiled back.

He didn’t mind when he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her gentle knocks, when her night terrors got bad, when she followed him around, watched him train even though she seemed to hold little interest in becoming a ninja like him.

He didn’t mind, but others did apparently

His brothers made no comment about it, mainly because they had seen Tomas in the same way for many years. But Sektor had made a small comment about it. “I never understood why parents allowed their child to cling to them in such a way.” Chao-Xing tilted her head at the words, eyes dampening with sadness. “Well I’m sure that the parents don’t mind. They are their children, after all.” He growled, eyes narrowing at her.

Chao-Xing may not have understood the message, but Sektor did.

‘Never talk like that about my daughter again’

BONUS! DIALOGUE BETWEEN KOMBATANTS

Bi Han: You were so easy to trick

Shang Tsung: You are weak to think of a child over greatness

Shang Tsung: My offer still stands, with your power our victory will be assured!

Bi Han: I would never betray my family for your petty lies

Liu Kang: I did not take you for the kind for fatherhood

Bi Han: neither did I

Bi Han: was there a chance I would betray my family in this timeline?

Liu Kang: Your daughter changed the timeline in more ways than one

Kuai Liang: I never thought I would be an uncle

Bi Han: I never though I would be a father

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Kuai Liang: Just tell me your plan next time, and I’ll be happy.

Tomas: What does Chao-Xing want for her birthday?

Bi Han: She keeps asking for a puppy, which she won’t be getting

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Tomas: I forgive you brother, just warn us next time.

[megs-1800]

Amnesia

Note: This is my longest fic, I have had it in my draft for ages and just kept adding bits. I wasn't sure where I wanted it to go. Feedback is always appreciated as I not sure about the ending. Requests are open. Used the song Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer for ideas.

Summary: You broke up with Mason after he cheated on you and broke your heart. What happens when Mason has a car accident and gets amnesia and he doesn't remember the breakup. Is he going to be able to win you back? Is he going to get his memory back?

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 11.9K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Swearing, mentions in injury and SMUT!!

Mason's POV

As I lay on my bed I still remember every moment of that day, I still cannot bring myself to sleep on your side of the bed. Its been 2 weeks since we broke up and I am still a wreck. The memories still haunting me,  the way your eyes were so puffy from crying, the way my heart broke in that moment, memories of that day come flooding back.

That’s the problem as soon as I let my mind stop for a moment I am forced to have memories of you. I know it was my fault I cheated, but I never wanted to loose you. I made a mistake and I am now definitely paying for it. You are the love of my life, I cannot cope without you.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving as I open the door from training I saw all the bags packed in the entrance hall. I can see you standing on the staircase shaking, I could tell you were nervous. You found out I cheated a couple of days prior and you said you needed space which I gave you. I knew from the look on your face what you decided.

I remember the makeup running down your face your mascara all smudged and your eyes all puffy I can tell you have been crying for a while, I run straight over to you and wrap you up in my arms. You quickly push me away, I knew that would happen, I just had to try. “Please baby no don’t leave me please y/n”. You look at me with sad eyes, I can see your heart is breaking just as much as mine “don’t make this any harder then it is Mase. I will get someone else to come and collect the rest of my stuff”.

And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them, like every single wish we ever made I watched as you walked away. I watched how you left everything behind, how you left us behind. All those dreams we spoke about over the past 3 years of being together, getting married, having children, growing old together. That’s all gone now, its nothing more than words now how am I going to cope?

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia and forget about the stupid little things like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you as I lay in bed all I want is to forget all these memories together, looking over to your side of the bed knowing I will never fall asleep next to you again, I love you more than anything but the thought of you is hurting me more than I can imagine. You are always there, every moment of every day I think about you. How you smell, the sparkle in your eye, the way you smile, the small little laugh that is contagious to me. My heart is breaking over the thought of you.

And the memories I never can escape. Cause I’m not fine at all I am really not fine at all I do not know how I am going to cope without you. I have tried to message and call you everyday since the breakup but you keep ignoring my calls/messages. This house is tainted now as everywhere I look is memories of you. How am I going to forget you, am I am going to live with the memories of you.

6 months later

My phone bings and I can see that message from my driver that he is outside. I am just finishing getting ready. I give myself a quick look in the mirror before I make my way downstairs. It’s a dinner with all the United boys to celebrate the new season I was really looking forward to it.

The weather was awful the rain was torrential, I am sitting there chatting away with the driver when everything goes black.

-

As I open my eyes I can hear beeping from a machine, the light is so bright it takes me a couple of minutes to adjust to the lighting. I then realise I am in in hospital. I look down at my body, I look physically fine I am just hooked up to loads of machines and my head is pounding.

I see my mum quickly stand up from her sitting position from across the room, “mase, oh my god I am so glad you are awake how are you feeling?” I can hear the worry in her voice. I look around the room, I can see mum and dad, Lewis, Jaz and some girl I do not know how she is.

“I am okay mum, my head is pounding. What happened? How did I get here?” Mum looks relieved that I said I am okay. “You were in a car accident, you were on the way to dinner with the united boys. The weather was bad and your car skidded and crashed. The driver was fine but you have been in a coma for a week. Oh my boy”. She starts crying into me which I try and console her but my body hurts so much.

“Oh baby, we have been worried sick. I am so glad you are okay” the girl I do not know says as she reaches and places her hand in mine. I look at confused as I have no idea who she is and I have no idea why she is calling me baby. That’s when I realised you are not here. Why are you not here, where you in the accident.

“Y/n.. where is y/n. Is she okay? She wasn’t in the car was she?” I am now panicking. I can see everyone look around as if I am stupid. They all give eachother a confused look which is worrying me more.

“Darling, you and y/n have been broken up for 6 months. You haven’t spoken to eachother since then as far as we know. You are dating Brittany for the past couple of months”. I can see the pity on my mums face as she gestures towards the women I do not know, I guess she is Brittany. What do they mean me and you broke up? There is no way! You are the love of my life.

“What do you mean we broke up! No way we cannot be broken up. I am sorry Brittany I am sure you are a lovely women but mum me and y/n cannot done can we?” I can now feel myself getting emotional, I can see Brittany roll her eyes which makes me slightly angry.

At this the doctor walks in, “how are feeling today. Good to see you awake and I am sure your family have caught you up with everything. Physically you are all okay and we couldn’t see anything on your CT scans so I just need to see how you are doing?”

I go to speak but my mum buts in which does me favour as I am still in shock “his memory is gone. He thinks he and his girlfriend are still together but they broke up 6 months ago. What happened doc will he be okay?” I can hear the panic in my mums voice, and I can see it in everyones eyes, well apart from that Brittany. I hate that I have worried them this much.

The doc nods showing he is understanding “by the sound of it he has temporary amnesia, it is common in cases like this. Usually the memories will all come straight back at a trigger of something, but there is no guarantee. What is the last thing you remember?” He turns to me.

I think really hard, I cannot really remember “I think my last memory was Christmas. You know we took the girls to see Santa and we all had Christmas Day at yours. I think that’s generally the last thing I can remember.” I can see them all nod probably reliving the memory like I am.

“That was 7 months ago” I hear my mum say. The Doctor looks over to them “7 months is not too bad, we have people who loose years. It might come back, but for now Mason its good to be around things and people you know. Go back to that routine 7 months ago and hope that something might trigger your memories for the past 7 months”. The doctor finish doing his checks and left.

We are all looking over at eachother, “the doctor said I need things that are familiar. Can someone please get y/n down here please. I need to see here”. I see they all look between them what could of happened? But then I see my mum nod and walk out the room. I assume she is making the call.

Your POV

I was a mess after me and Mason broke up, I knew I was the one who left but I had to. Mason cheated and broke my heart. I could never look at him the same again. I wish I could just go back in time and never argue that night, maybe he never would of gone out and slept with her. I miss him more than words can say.

I have been strong since the breakup, every call and message Mason sent I made sure to ignore it. I couldn’t let myself reply otherwise I would fall for him all over again, I couldn’t let myself do this as losing him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

I had a long week at work, especially with my boss calling in sick me and my colleague have basically had to run the service. I am so glad its Friday and I have today off so looking forward to my well-deserved long weekend. I have had a lazy morning, made breakfast in bed and just got out the shower when I see my phone ring.

Hoping that its not work related I am shocked to see Debbie’s name show up on my phone, Debbie and I spoke briefly since the breakup, mainly just saying how Mason was a mess and kept asking me what happened. I kept explaining that it wasn’t my place to say and she needs to ask Mason. I know Debbie loved me, but I know when it comes down to it she will always pick Mason’s side. I quickly answer the call apprehensively “hey Debbie everything okay?”

“Hiya lovely, um no not really. Mason was in an accident” I can feel my heart dropped, eventhough Mason broke my heart I never wanted him to be hurt. I can feel my heart beating erratically and I can feel tears in my eyes. “He is physically okay, a bit bruised but he should be okay.” I let a breath out that I didn’t even realise that I was holding, I am so relieved he is okay. “The problem is he has amnesia the last thing he remembers is Christmas Day, he cannot remember the break up. He thinks you are still together. The doctor recommended that he stays with what is familiar and that might help bring back his memories. He said you are what is familiar to him, he really wants to see you. I get what happened between you is hard, but please I just want him better”. I can hear her voice break at the end of the sentence. I really want to help but I do not know if I can see him.

“I understand that Debbie, but I do not think I can let myself see him again. I let that part of my life go now Debbie I have moved on. I cannot let myself just go backwards”. I feel so harsh because all I want is to Mason but I buried those memories deep and I really do not want to open those feeling again.

“I know darling, Mason eventually told us what happened between you two. We were furious with him believe me. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go. Y/n look I am not asking for you to forgive him, I am not even asking for you to take him back. All I am asking for is for you to come down here and see him y/n please that’s all I am asking”.

I really don’t want to do it, but there is a small part of me that needs to check Mason is okay, and it would be nice to see them all okay. I take a deep breath “okay I will be there in a couple of hours. Please text me the address” Debbie thanked me and a couple of minutes later I received a message from her with the hospital address.

I quickly got ready and packed some spare clothes just in case I stay down in Manchester and I quickly made a move.

Mason’s POV

Mum said you were on your way, I was counting down the minutes to see you. No one has still told me why we are not together. I cannot believe we would of broken up, you are the love of my life well I suppose I should say you were the love of my life now. I hate referring to you in past tense. I can feel my heart breaking.

All of my family start to leave so I can get ready before y/n arrives , you are due anytime now but the women I do not know still remains. Its awkward I feel bad that I have no idea who she is. Once everyone leaves she walks over to me and sits down, she puts my hand into hers. “Masey how are you feeling?” I wince at her use of my nickname “my head is really hurting but I think I am going to be okay. I am really sorry I cannot remember you. I am really am”. I feel awful that I am dating someone I cannot even remember. “That’s okay Mase I will get you to remember” before I know it she is kissing me, I am not kissing back. In my head me and y/n are still together I couldn’t of done that to her.

As this Brittany pulls away I see the longing in her eyes, I can tell she is really into me. I am about to say something when I see y/n walking into the room. “uh sorry I will give you guys a minute” you go to walk back out the room. I am quick to respond “please y/n don’t go!” I didn’t realise I was shouting but it came out louder then I wanted but I just didn’t want you to leave. I can see you nod and you sheepishly come over to me. I can see you are not making eye contact with me or Brittany.

“Thank you coming its really good to see you. Sorry I know it’s a long drive you must be exhausted” I say

“I did it for your mum, not for you but its okay the drive wasn’t too bad. Did you want me to come back at a better time?”

You are so beautiful, you are only in a tracksuit and your hair in a bun as I know you love being comfortable when travelling but you look like the most beautiful girl in the world. We both stayed silent just looking at eachother when Brittany replies to you in a bitchy tone “yeah if you could come back a bit later. It’s the first time since Masey’s woken up that we actually got 2 minutes to ourselves”. I look at Brittany with a shocked look, how rude of her to say that and I can see you are taken back by that. You nod and go to walk out of the hospital which I grab your hand to stop you “please y/n don’t leave” I can see you look at Brittany and you are now hesitating with what to do. I turn to Brittany “I asked y/n to come, she has come a long way please don’t speak to her like that and make her leave. We have a lot to catch up on”. I can see you blush a little as you look down, Brittany looks pissed and rolls her eyes “for fuck sake Mason you are choosing to be with her then me. You are with me now Mason. You know whatever”. At that she throws her body around and storms out of the hospital room.

I see you giggle “You always loved someone with a bit of drama. You are going to pay for that later you know”. I smile back knowing that I probably will with the way Brittany just throw herself out of the room. You sit down next to me, I can tell you are nervous. “How have you been? You look beautiful” You give me a small smile, I can tell you are thinking about what to say next.

“I’m doing good Mase, how are feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” I see that you passed over the comment with me calling you beautiful. “I am okay, I am a bit stiff but physically I am fine. I am guessing mum told you about the memory stuff” You nodded in agreement. “What happened to us y/n? They are saying we broke up but no one will tell me why? We couldn’t of broken up we were going to get married, have kids. We were going to live happily ever after what happened?”

“You happened Mase.”

“No way.. I would of never broke up with you”

“Well technically I broke up with you but you are the one who cheated.” I am in disbelief, I couldn’t of cheated on you. I cannot believe I would of done this to us. I broke us.

“No way, I wouldn’t of done that to you. I love you so much y/n”

“Well you did. You slept with someone else. I loved you too Mase but you broke us” hearing you saying ‘loved’ in past tense makes my heart break.

“What happened why did I cheat? Who did I cheat with” I am still in disbelief.

“We had a huge fight, it was just one of those things that built up. You were stressed with injuries and the press and I was stressed with work and being away from my family we just kind of took it out on eachother. We both said a lot of things we shouldn’t of said and you decided to go out with the boys which made the argument worse. I said ‘if you go out don’t bother coming back’, I guess you took that literally. You went out had too many drinks and got a hotel with her. I don’t really know what happened but that’s what you said. You slept with Brittany actually”. I can see that hurt you reliving that.

“Brittany?! So I cheated on you with her? And then what started dating her again?” I am such a horrible person for that, I must of broken you.

“Yeah not right away though. You cheated a couple of weeks after Christmas which your mum said is your last memory, I found out a couple of weeks later. You only got with Britanny a couple of months ago. She literally put it all over social media on your first date so I found out pretty quick”.

“Shit I am sorry that must have been horrible for you. I just cannot believe I would of done that to you.. to us. I was going to propose to you. You know that trip I arranged in Paris for Valentines day, I had it all planned. I had the ring.. then what I throw it all away just like that over one stupid fight.” I am beating myself up about it, I cannot believe I would of broke your heart like that. I must have been a mess when we broke up, I can feel my heart breaking now and tears forming in my eye.

“Yeah I know, your family told me once they found out we broke up. I didn’t even have a clue that you were going to propose in Paris. But what was done was done. You cancelled the trip I think or you went on it with someone I am not too sure.”

“Surely I couldn’t of gone with someone else. That trip was ours.”

“Honestly Mason I had no idea what you did when we broke up. You tried to ring and text me but I just couldn’t bring myself to reply. Then I saw on the news that you were spotted on a date with Brittany, I was so upset because I couldn’t even think of getting with anyone else and then suddenly you are back with the girl who ruined our relationship but I guess I just loved you more then you loved me.” I can see the tears starting to form in your eyes as you start to look up to prevent the tears from rolling down.

“No y/n please, I loved you more then you will ever know. You were the love of my life. I made a mistake I-I-I cannot b-b-believe I would of done that to y-y-you.” I am struggling to get my words out as my tears are rolling down my face. I can see your face start to soften and I can see your tears starting to roll down your cheek too. You are rubbing the back of my hand with you thumb. This is something that you used to do all the time to try and reassure me when I was upset.

We stay there in silence for what seems like forever, I just continue to look into your eyes. Those eyes that were once filled with so much light and love now seem broken, however I can still see that sparkle that you always had. We were snatched from our moment as my mum walked in. “Sorry to interrupt but visiting hours are almost over so I am not sure if either of you want anything to eat before we have to leave?” I can feel the sadness of the thought of you leaving me, I really don’t want you to leave.

“No its okay thanks though Debbie, I should be heading back to my hotel room anyway. I will probably just order room service, I have had a long day travelling but thank you”. I deny food from mum as well, right now I cannot think about eating as my heart is breaking knowing that I lost y/n and I was the reason. Food is the last thing on my mind. Mum nods and walks away, as she does this that Brittany walks in again.

She gives y/n daggers as she sees that me and you are holding hands, y/n shoots the look straight back though that’s my girl! “I best get going, I will leave you both to say goodbye” as you let go of my hand and look between me and Brittany. Right now I couldn’t give a fuck about that Brittany being in the room. “please don’t leave y/n/n, you can stay here for the night. Please I cannot let you go again” I see the pity on your face which makes me hate myself right now and Brittany looks pissed. Maybe I shouldn’t of said that.

“What the fuck Mason! You are injured and you what that to stay with you rather than me. What is going on Mason. I know you got this bloody memory thing and you don’t remember me but fucking look at me, and you telling me you would rather want that then me, come on Mase stop having me on” I was taken aback by Brittany, the way she looked you up and down everytime she said ‘that’ I was so angry, you are 10000% better then that Brittany. I know you would never agree as you are so much more natural, but in my eyes you are the most beautiful women to ever walk the planet.

I go to defend you but you beat me to it “no she is right Mase. I don’t know why you would choose me when you got someone like her. But anyway I am not like her I do not get into bed with other peoples boyfriends so I will just leave”  I cannot believe you would doubt yourself like that, I would always choose you over Brittany, but I guess I didn’t when I choose to cheat with Brittany fuck I hate myself.

I loved your little petty comment at the end, I go to laugh with make Brittany more angry “who the fuck are you talking to like that.” I can see its started to get a little heated, you step away as I know you do not like confrontation. “Hey.. come on lets all calm down” I say defusing the situation.

“I am going to go. I will come down tomorrow though okay Mase. Sleep well” I nod, I go to say ‘I love you’ but quickly stop myself. I watch as you walk out the room and I can feel the tears forming in my eyes again. I turn my attention back to Brittany “that was rude for you to speak to her like that” I start. Brittany rolls her eyes “oh Mase you know I am a thousand times better than her, you are lucky to have me. I get you got a past with her but me and you got together and you choose to be with me. So why are you now defending her?”

I just look at her with disgust, she is the reason me and you are not together right now. I know I am too blame too but it took 2 to ruin the relationship. “Please just go” I beg.

She rolls her eyes again I hate when she does that. “Whatever Mase, give me a ring when you come to your senses”. At that she turns on her heals and walks out the hospital room. At this time I am grateful for the silence, but then suddenly I feel a longing for you. All I want is you.

Your POV

It was so hard seeing Mason today, suddenly all these feelings come flooding back. All I want is to drive back to that hospital and kiss him but I have to stay strong. Seeing Brittany broke me too, knowing that the other women was there made me feel sick but I think I handled it well.

I checked into my hotel room and flopped straight onto the bed, I am so mentally drained after the long drive and seeing Mason all I want is to go to sleep. I quickly check my phone as I realised I hadn’t checked it since I got to Manchester. I got a couple of messages but one stood out the most, only sent 20 mins ago, from Mason. “Safe journey to the hotel, let me know once you are there. Thank you for making the trip down to see me, especially after all I have done. You have no idea how much I appreciate it x” I keep looking over the text as I am really not sure to reply, he does deserve to know I got here okay though, because chances are if I do not reply soon he will be ringing me to make sure I am safe. I quickly send a quick reply “I am at the hotel now x” I kept it basic I cannot let myself get sucked in again.

I go straight for a shower and I loved the feeling of the hot water on my shoulders, I hear my phone bing again which chances are it was Mason replying. I took my time in the shower, once I am out I wrap the hotel robe around me and collapse on the bed. I let my feelings out and I can feel the tears rolling down my face, all those emotions I kept in seeing Mason today. I can feel myself start to drift off to sleep when there is a knock at the door. I quickly open it and I can see room service “I am sorry I didn’t order this” the man looks confused and double checks the receipt “yeah room 107, it was a prepaid order over the phone for a ummmm Mr Mount” I nod and let the man bring the trolley of food in. Once he leaves I look over the trolley there is so much food.

I quickly message Mason “You didn’t need to do that x” I message he is quick to read the message and reply “I didn’t know what you fancied so I just ordered one of everything xx” I shake my head at his reply but I know he was just doing it to be nice and to be honest I am ready grateful as I head my stomach rumbling. “I am going to get fat with eating all this food x”  he replies straight away “And you will still be the most incredibly sexiest girl in my eyes xxx” I smile at his reply, he is giving me butterflies all over again. He has always been smooth at compliments and eventhough I am insecure about how I look he has always made me feel like I am beautiful.

We continue the rest of the night chatting away over text it felt natural to speak to him, just living in the moment then it suddenly hit me with what happened and I quickly made an excuse that I needed to sleep which he agreed with. As I shut my eyes all the feelings with him came flooding back all over again, I spend another night crying myself to sleep.

When I wake up I feel this sudden urge of dread, I know Mason doesn’t remember but I do, I remember all the hurt he caused. I cannot see him again, I cannot let myself feel like that again. I see Mason’s text saying how he was excited to see me again today. I feel bad but I have got to lie I cannot see him again, not right now. I am still not over him, I am nowhere near over him. “Hey Mase, I am so sorry work called and they need me back like now. I am leaving to go home now. I am so sorry look after yourself and if you need anything let me know. I hope you get your memory back, but maybe at the same time I don’t so at least that way you don’t need to hurt the way that I do. I will always love you Mase xx” and with that I put my phone on silent ready for the drive home.

Mason’s POV

When I saw that text I felt my heart drop, I cannot believe she is already going. Maybe I came on too strong ordering her room service but I knew she wouldn’t eat otherwise and I was just trying to look out for her. It was such a lame excuse to use work as I know that’s not the reason. I read you like a book I know there is no work issue and that you were only saying that to get out of seeing me. I must of hurt you so bad.

I quickly respond back to you, I do not want to cause anymore conflict between us so I type “Okay I am gutted I am not seeing you. Can you do me a favour please don’t feel pressured and you do not need to make a decision now just promise me you will think about it. You are the only bit of normal I have at the moment, can you please just come down and let me take you out for dinner please that all I am asking. I just want to talk, I just want to fill in the gaps. Please y/n”.

I watch as you are typing, you are typing for ages which is making me anxious. Then you just reply in one word… “Okay”.

I try and message you to let you know I have been released from hospital and update you which you just read and do not reply. It made me feel awful that I know you are reading my messages but not responding. I wish I could just make everything okay, at the same time I wish I could have my memory back so I can feel the way you are hurting, so I can understand why I did what I did.

Readers POV

A couple of weeks passed since your saw Mason, he tried to message you a couple of times to let you know he has been released from hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to answer, seeing him that day made all of these feelings come back. I am not sure if I can let him in again. Out of the blue I saw a text from Declan, I hadn’t heard from him since the breakup. Lauren messaged me every now and again as we were close when me and Mason were dating , but when I moved back home it was hard to stay in touch. The messaged said “Come on y/n please answer Mason. All I have heard since he has been released from hospital is about you. I get what happened between you was shit and Mason is an arsehole for cheating on you. We were all on your side, but he is my mate y/n/n and he is struggling with the memory thing at the moment and all he knows at the moment is you. So please y/n/n I like to think we were good friends before that all happened, so if you do not want to do it for him, do it for me :) x” I smiled at the text and had a little giggle at the end. “Okay Dec, but I am doing it for you not him. I promise the next message he sends me I will reply”. And with that Mason’s name suddenly appears on my phone, him and Mason must have been together. “Declan said you would reply to my message. I know I fucked up y/n I know, I cannot remember why I did what I did but all I can do is apologise. All I have is happy memories with you at the moment, I need someone to help me get my memories back. The doctor said to keep doing things which feel ‘normal’ to me, and well you are the most ‘normal’ I can get. One date please that’s all I ask please and then I promise I will leave you alone xx” . I am debating my answer but I know Mason won’t quit until he gets what he wants that’s how he got me to go on a first date with him, and to be fair he did say he would leave me alone if I agreed. I sent him a quick text back “Okay Mount but you better make it worth my while x”. He reads it straight away and I can see he is typing, that’s when his message pops up in the chat “Have I ever let you down”;) xx”

The next couple of days Mason keeps the messages to a minimum which I am grateful for, this week has been busy with work so I am actually looking forward to taking a break and going out. Mason didn’t tell me much about the date, all he said was to dress nice and for me to be with him early afternoon. I thought this was really weird as if it was an afternoon date then why am I dressing up? The day before our date he told me I also need to bring my passport and an overnight bag, I am now seriously confused surely we cannot be going out the county? I frantically spent that evening looking for my passport and trying to decide what to wear. I opted in for a short black dress that hugs my figure perfectly and I knew Mason would love it, it used to be one of his favourites.

The next morning I can hear the dreaded sound of my alarm, I have had to get up at the crack of dawn to get up and ready and make the drive to Manchester. I thought I could pair my dress with a long overcoat to make it look slightly more casual and a nice pair of boots. I quickly post a picture to my private Instagram storey and then make a move:

The drive to Manchester was painless the traffic was on my side for a change. I arrived in Manchester around 2pm, I walked up the front steps to Mason’s and I suddenly start to feel sick this was the house we used to live at together. I start to shake but before I can turn around Mason opens the door, he obviously saw me on the ring doorbell.

“Wow look at you” Mason looks me up and down and now suddenly I feel really self-conscious. He was dressed in black skinny jeans with a white button shirt. He looked fit I cannot deny but I cannot let myself have feelings for him like that. “So give it up Mount where are we going. Dress nice. Get here for lunchtime. Passport and overnight bag. What is happening?” I know he could hear the anxiety in my voice and I watch him give me a little giggle and holds my hand in his. “Please stop worrying I promise you are going to love it. Just trust me okay” my heart drops at that last comment. “Well Mase the last time I trusted you I got cheated on” I can see that comment pissed him off. “Enough of the past that I cannot remember. Lets just live in the present, just for tonight please.” I nod giving in as there is no point keep bringing up the past that he doesn’t remember. “Okay Mase deal. Wherever we are going better be good as I am starving.”

Mason drove us to Manchester airport and we checked in through a private entrance and we were taken to a private lounge, it had some other couples there but I am guessing they all have some kind of status. I keep playing with coat as Mason knows I feel comfortable in situations like this, I hate being in places with people who have status it just makes me feel uncomfortable as I feel like a fraud as I am anything but people like this. Brittany would be the ideal girl to be taking to places like this then suddenly put the thought to the back of my mind as its making me feel worse. Mason kept rubbing the small of back to reassure me as I know he could tell I felt out of place, I wanted to push him away but I know it was only doing it because he cared. He disappeared for a couple of mins then reappeared with 2 mimosas in his hand passing me one “its never too early to drink on a date night” I giggle and take the drink from him quickly having a sip realising how strong it is “I definitely agree! Are you going to tell me where we are going yet?” He shakes his head and shoots me a wink “patience is key my beautiful girl”. He gives me butterflies in my stomach, I am now all of sudden feel nervous around him.

About an hour later and many drinks down a man comes over to where me and Mason are sitting, I can feel the alcohol has definitely gone straight to my head, maybe I should of eaten a little something before I came. “Mr Mount your plane is ready whenever you are” Mason nods and thanks him. I quickly shoot him a look “Did he just say plane? Mason you have not hired a whole bloody plane?!”

“Well you said to make sure its worth your while so I am pulling out all the stops. Now come on” he grabs both his and my weekend bags and I follow him to the terminal. I can see a small private plane on the run way and I am assuming this is for us. Mason did this for us on about our 5th date and I was completely gobsmacked, he always ensures he treats me, that was one of the things I loved most about Mason. I am easily pleased but he always made sure to treat me like a princess.

We chat the whole plane ride there, I am now starting to relax, I think the alcohol is helping the situation but I am starting to ease back into Mason it feels like old times. I am now just telling myself to enjoy tonight as we do not know what tomorrow holds so there is no point in arguing with Mason, I might as well enjoy the night.

We are now preparing for landing, we were only in the air for just over 2 hours but it felt like minutes as me and Mason non stopped chatted and laughed the whole time. “Are you going to let me know where we are now?” Mason finally gives in “Okay well you know when we first started talking and I asked you where you wanted to go for our first date and you said Pasta and Tiramisu from Italy.”

“I said that as a joke Mason” I quickly butted in.

“I know you were only joking but I was gutted I couldn’t actually do that for our first date due to footy commitments so… well… I thought it is the best setting for our kind of 1st date again”. My heart warms I cannot believe he has gone through this much effort. “I cannot believe you done this Mason like wow you didn’t need to.” Before I knew it I jumped across the seats and placed my hands either side of Mason’s face, I just stare into his eyes and then look down at his lips. I then give him a passionate kiss, he is returning the kiss straight away holding my hips, I do not know what came over me, I think it’s a mixture between my heart and some alcohol. I quickly pull away and go back to seat to prepare for landing. I can see the small cocky smirk that Mason is showing, is this his plan all along?

When we land Mason gets us a taxi to our hotel, the outside of the hotel is insane, its massive and so bright and colourful. As we walk inside the lobby is probably the size of my whole flat block, with massive colour chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I am speechless just taking it all in, me and Mason have been to some nice places before but this has had to be the nicest. “Pass me your bag, stay here. I want you to see the room for the first time after dinner. Please.. unless you need to freshen up or anything?” I can tell he really wants to wow me but is still thinking about me the whole time. I give me a small smile “I am okay I freshened up on the plane before we landed thank you though” .

Mason gives me the biggest smile like he is so proud of himself, I cannot wait to see what this room looks like. It must be amazing with the way Mason is acting. I quickly sat down on the sofa and took a video of the lobby and send it to my friend. She is an architect so she would be in love with this. I see Mason come jogging through the lobby approaching me so I stand to greet him. “Right shall we go our reservation is at 7pm so right on time” I nod and link arms with Mason and let him lead me outside to another taxi to take us to the restaurant.

The taxi pulls outside a small Italian Trevena Mason comes round to my side of the car and helps me out, I am trying to steady my feet as maybes boots were a bad idea as I am started to feel a little drunk and I am struggling to keep my balance. Mason puts his hand on my back and guides me into the restaurant, he steps in front of me at the desk. “Good evening I have a reservation for Mason Mount for 2.” The man behind the counter looks on the system and confirms “Yes I can see it here Mr Mount we have arrange a table near the back for you as requested so you both can have your privacy. Right this way I will seat you at your table”  we follow him to our table and Mason brings out my chair.

He is really getting me in my feels, we are sat at the back of the restaurant out the way with a little fireplace next to us. “This restaurant is amazing Mase how did you even find it?” I say in awe of how beautiful the scenery is. “well believe it or not its actually from Lewis. He came here a couple of months ago and said its incredible.”

“Well Lewis always did have an amazing taste in restaurants so I am sure this is going to be amazing” I smile, me and Mason just sit across from each other admiring each other. We are interrupted by the waiter taking our order. Once they walk away Mason places his hand in mine, “it was shit coming home and you weren’t there. It feels so empty without you” I quickly pull away as I can feel a lump in my throat “please Mase don’t start. Lets just enjoy tonight. No talking about this please”. Mason nods agreeing with me.

“That food was incredible” I saw leaning backwards trying to extend my stomach where I am so full, “having traditional pasta and tiramisu from Italy, no food is ever going to prepare!” Mason takes the last bite of his dessert “I am glad you enjoyed it. I cannot believe we have done 2 bottles of wine” I look over at the 2 empty bottles in disbelief “no way have we? Well our heads are probably going to pay for that in the morning. Its been an amazing night tonight Mason thank you. Its been just like old time I have really enjoyed it”.

Mason went to say something but we were interrupted by the waiter with the bill placing it on our table and explaining he will be back. “How much is it?” I ask concerned about the cost as I know I will never be able to afford a place like this on my office job wage. Mason shakes his head “don’t worry about it.” I feel a sense of guilt “mason you have paid for the plane and the hotel, this dinner is probably going to be expensive its not right if you have to pay for that too”

“You can get the next one” mason replies straight away. I feel a sense of relief knowing I haven’t got to pay as it would probably cost about a months rent but at the same time feel bad. As Mason pays the bill I explain that I am going to go the toilet. As I walk to the bathroom I can feel the alcohol hitting me. I look at myself in the mirror and all these feelings for Mason come flooding back, all of sudden all I can think about is him, I need him.. I need him now.

Mason is standing at the table as I return and he guides me out of the restaurant as we say thank you to the staff, we can see some paparazzi outside as we are leaving “shit sorry I picked this place as I thought it would be out the way. Fuck sake” I feel bad for Mason I know he hates all of this. I hold his hand in assurance he looks at me confused. “are you sure? They are going to make up stories” I look Mason in the eyes and place a small kiss to his lips “I am living for today Mase, I am enjoying tonight lets not worry about tomorrow”. Mason nods at me and I think I see a small smile on his face. He takes of his coat and places it over me to block my face from the cameras. This was a usual occurrence for me and Mason, he always made sure I was protected from them.

We quickly walk to the car ignoring the flashes and once we are in the car I do not know what came over me. I am not sure if its how protective Mason is of me or the alcohol or maybe a little bit of both but I forget that we are and I pounce on Mason.

I place one hand on his thigh and the other onto his cheek as I place a kiss, I pull away waiting for his reaction but he grabs me closer and deepens the kiss. It’s a urgent kiss as we are both fighting for air. I can feel his hand on my thigh which is urging me on more. We both explore each other bodies, and the memories of him flood me again.

We break apart to get out the taxi and through the hotel, as soon as we are in the lift Mason swipes a card and picks the top floor. As soon as the door closes we are attached again, Mason pushes me up against the wall and places his hands on my bum whilst we deepen the kiss, our tongues exploring eachothers months. I pull my fingers through his hair and hear the sound moans coming out of his mouth.

The lift dings notifying us that we are at our floor, Mason backs away and leads me out of the lift. I stood still in my tracks as I realise the lift opens straight into the room. It’s a penthouse suite, the room is bigger then my whole flat. Its got a queen size poster bed on one side of the room where on the other there is a whole living room set up. That’s when I see there is a bath in the middle of the room that looks out over the city. “Wow this room is amazing, its so beautiful Mason I am speechless I do not know what to say. Just thank you” Mason places another kiss to my lips before he replies “believe me nothing beats the way you look tonight” . Mason was never short of compliments and he always makes me feel amazing even when I do not feel it.

I do not even know what to reply, but before I know it out lips are together again. He is quick to take his shirt and jeans off just leaving him in his boxers. I just stand there for a minute admiring him “you should take a photo it will last longer” Mason says when he catches me staring, I giggle back “I used to have those photos, believe me you are like the sexiest man I have ever met”. I see Mason blush and his hands are back on me. He starts grabbing my ass with one hand whilst the other is in my hair gripping it. I can feel he slowly unzipping my dress, I can feel him struggling “do you want me to turn around?” I saw giggling, Mason rolls his eyes “Yes please”  he says with the hump.

I quickly turn around and place my hair to one side, he leaves a trail of kisses along my shoulder as he unzips my dress. I am glad I opted into not wearing a bra, so he just leaves me in my small black thong. I turn around so I face Mason, I can see his eyes looking over my body, and now I suddenly feel vert self conscious. I try to hide myself a little, Mason grabs my hands “don’t do that. You have the most incredible body”. I can feel myself blushing. He kisses me again as he plays with my nipple between his fingers, I cannot stop the moaning that is coming out of my mouth which is urging Mason on more.

He quickly picks me up by the ass and places me on the bed. He quickly climbs on top of me resting his hands either side of my head ensuring he doesn’t put too much weight on me. Mason looks me over and I can see the bulge in his boxers urging to get out “Fuck me, you are the most incredible women in the world baby girl” I move my hand to his boxers and slide my hand underneath to get to where Mason needs me most. Mason moans at the sudden touch, I start to make movement “uh y/n that feels so fucking good to have your hand wrapped around my cock” Mason quickly removes his boxers to give me more access to his dick so I can make longer strokes. As I play with his dick Mason is on my nipples, teasing and sucking them and then moving onto the next one to do the same “Mason your mouth is incredible”. He gives me a cocky smile “you wanna see what this mouth can actually do?”

Mason doesn’t even wait for my reply before he is kissing all the way over my body, I cannot control my whimpers and I can feel myself getting wet at the anticipation about what is going to happen next. He positions himself inbetween my thighs and begins to lower my thong with his teeth. He looks at my pussy and straight back up at me and he can tell I am dripping, he was always so cocky when we have sex, he loves what he can do to me. Mason without warning makes one long stride with his tongue against my pussy, my hands go straight to his hair “fuck Mason” I can feel him smiling against me as he continues his licks and sucks, he then puts his focus on my clit and I do not know how much longer I can hold it. I can feel my stomach clenching. Mason then inserts 2 fingers into me whilst his tongue works on my clit. “fuck Mason I don’t think I can hold it” I can hear him hum into me “don’t hold it babygirl I want you to cum all over my tongue” he continues that pace which has me cumming in a couple of minutes as I unfold screaming his name as I have one hand in his hair tucking away and the other holding onto the bedframe.

“I love when you scream my name” Mason says as he crawls up, he continues to kiss me which I can taste my cum on his tongue. “I think its your turn superstar” Mason still continues to kiss me but I pull away to start kissing his neck, I can feel myself getting too excited and probably leaving a hickey but Mason is continuing to moan into my neck  which is encouraging me more. As I pull away I look into Mason’s eyes “I need that cock in my mouth” I slide my hand down Mason’s body and grab his cock again and start pumping.

“Y/n/n you have no idea what you are doing to me! I would love that but I just need to be inside you right now” I let go of his dick so he can give himself a quick couple of pumps and lines himself up with you. “For me this feels like yesterday but for you this must feel like its been forever.” I can feel my heart break at that comment but right now I am too turned on to let it affect me. Mason pushes himself inside me and gives me a couple of mins to adjust to his size. “You can move Mase, please I need you to ruin me”.

He hoovers over me “you don’t have to tell me twice baby” he grabs my hips as he starts to pick up a rhythm “have I ever told you.. your pussy is out of this world” mason says panting, “You have told me on many occasions yes but its always good to hear because believe me your dick is incredible” this seems to give Mason more fuel as the pace starts to get harder and quicker. We both moaning eachothers names and how good we making eachother. I can feel his hands all over my body as mine is doing the same to him. He thrusts are starting to get sloppy and I can feel he is nearing his orgasm. “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, be a good girl for me and cum all over me” with his words I can feel myself needing to cum as well. Mason reaches down and uses his thumb to make circles on my clit which is driving me insane, I cannot hold of moans in which I am worried other people can hear. Mason always loved when I am loud. “uh Mason like that I am g-g-onna” and with that I unravel onto his dick and the feel of me cumming Mason uses this to reach his high as well, he quickly pulls out and cums all over my stomach. He flops next to me as we both lay there staring at the ceiling catching our breathes.

“T-T-hat was a-amazing, y-y are i-Incredible“ I say panting, Mason flops over so he is on his stomach and draws lines in my arm. “I am only incredible because you make me incredible” I giggle at him as I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. We haven’t been this intimate in a long time, but the problem is he cannot remember the distance.

“Did you want to have a bath overlooking the city to clean up?” I agree and Mason runs us a bath and opens the French doors to the balcony so there is a small breeze which we both sit in the round bath probably big enough to fit 6 people whilst we overlook the lights of the city.

We lay in the bath looking out over the city, I have never seen anything more perfect. Mason turns me around so I am facing him. “Can I ask you something.. you don’t have to answer just something that’s been on my mind. You know since we broke up have you seen anymore? Have you.. you know.. slept with anyone else?” I can tell he is nervous to ask this of course if he remembers I would say the same thing, I know about Brittany but was there any other girls? I grab Mason’s face between my hands and place a long passionate kiss onto his lips. “No.. no other guys. You are my entire world Mason, I couldn’t even think about dating another guy let alone sleeping with anyone else. Even though you moved on I couldn’t think of another man I would of felt like I was cheating on you”.

Mason’s face is still between my hands and he pulls me closer to return the kiss, as he pulls away I see him smile “you are incredible you know that why did I ever fuck it up”.

I stretch my body out realising Mason is not next to me, as I slowly open my eyes I let it adjust to the bright light that it radiating the room from the outside world. My body aches as I relive round 2 and 3 that occurred last night, I quickly look over and see Mason sitting on the chair at the table in the corner of the room. His head is down like he is stressed. “What time is it?” I asked I feel like I have slept for hours and with the amount of light coming into the room it must be later then I think. “Its 11 we gotta get up and go soon” his voice is low and raspy and I am confused at his bluntness. “Whats up?” I go wrap the hotel robe over my body and go and join in at the table.

Mason looks at me, I can see his eyes are red and puffy he looks stressed and upset. I am really worried. “I-I-I remember” I look at him confused “You remember what?” he looks down trying not to make eye contact with me. “I remember everything.. I woke up this morning and it all came back. E-E-Everything. Y/n/n I am so sorry” he then breaks and starts to cry. I want to console him but then I need to stop myself, we are back to reality again, we are back to the guy that cheated on me. “There was a news article released this morning, it showed pictures of us last night of when we left the restaurant. Brittany has already been on the phone screwing at me, my family are all asking me why me and you are in Italy and then everything just came flooding back. Back to reality all over again”. All I want is to jump across the table and wrap Mason in my arms but I need to be strong, he isn’t the guy from last night he is now the one who broke my heart, the one who cheated and tore our relationship.

“We best start getting ready” is all I can say quickly getting into the shower and packing up my things. The whole journey home me and Mason sat in silence it was the longest trip of my life. As soon as we pulled back into the driveway, my car now coming into view. I quickly grab my bag out the back and make my way to my car. “Y/n wait!” Mason stops me “Last night was amazing, I know you went with the guy who didn’t remember but please it must of meant something. You are the love of my life y/n. I cannot let you go again.” I start to reply but I can only let a breath out. “I-I cannot do this right now Mase” I quickly get in the car and start driving away. I can see him in the review mirror disappearing as I am make the journey home.

Its been a couple of weeks since our Italy date, Mason hasn’t attempted to message or call which has been nice that he has given me my space but I would be lying if I didn’t say I missed him. I tried to get on with my life but all I can think about was our date I know deep down no one will ever compare to Mason. Part of me wishes I never went on that date but it was so incredible I will hold that memory forever, it helped Mason get his memory back but right now I am not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I am sat at work when my phone rings I am shocked to see Lewis ringing my phone, out of everyone I expected to see on my phone he definitely wasn’t one of them. I quickly excuse myself and answer the phone “Hey y/n, long time no speak how are you?” I am really not sure how to answer.

“Yeah I am good Lew how are you? Is everything okay? Just you are the last person I expected to see on my phone we haven’t spoken since and Mason broke up”.

“Yeah I know I am sorry about that. I know he was the one that fucked up but still hard to see my baby bro so broken you know. Honestly though y/n I was gutted about the breakup out of all the girls you have always been my favourite. I know people struggled as you were not famous and about your intentions at all but honestly I could see how much you loved him, and you made him so happy”.

It was hard for me to hear all of this, but I always got on well with Lewis. “thanks Lew that means a lot. Is everything okay though?”

“Yeah everything is okay, I just wanted to say thank you. After everything Mason put you through you still dropped everything to come and see in hospital and agreed to go on that date which brought his memory back so our family just wanted to thank you.”

“Its fine honestly I care for Mason a lot, I would of hated myself if I didn’t go. Plus that restaurant you recommended was 10/10”.

“Yeah I did say to Mason I thought you would love it. Look I know you have probably heard this speech before but-“

“Look Lew let me stop you right there because I know what you are going to say-“

“Please y/n just let me finish. Okay Mase is a mess without you. He broke up with that Brittany bitch which I was so relieved for, we could tell she was only using him for the fame. I understand he fucked up and I am not asking for you to get back with him but could you just try and be friends? He said he didn’t message you since you guys got back as everytime he messaged you, you ignore him and it breaks him all over again. I am his big brother so I gotta ask, its just he was always stronger when he was with you”.

“I don’t k-k-know, I love him so much I just cannot let myself get hurt again but because its you I promise I will think about our conversation okay”

“That’s all I ask thank you y/n. Mason was so stupid letting you go. Take care”

I reply a “You too” and then I cut the call. Now my mind is all over the place. I have no idea what to do. I quickly ring my boss and explain that I have a family emergency and explain that I got to go. Before I know it I am on my way to Manchester.

As I approach Mason’s door I go to knock then turn around, I then bring myself to knock again but stop before I do the action. What am I doing here? I turn around to walk back to the car when the door opens. “Y/n?” He must of saw me on the ring door bell.

“Sorry I don’t actually know why I am here.” I stand there staring at him. My mind is going 100 miles per hour I cannot think straight.

“Did you want to come in?” Mason moves to the side offering me inside.

“I don’t know” I continue to stand still just staring at Mason. Mason giggles.

“Well okay, I will leave the door open if you want to come in you are more then welcome.” Mason walks away and I can see him making his way into the living room. I shortly follow him in and shut the door. I slowly walk into the living room and sit down on the sofa opposite him.

“You decided to come inside, good choice” I can tell his he being cocky, I am not sure if this is to cover up his anxiousness though.

“Your brother called me-“ I start but Mason quickly replies.

“I know sorry I didn’t know he was going to do that. I promise I didn’t ask him to. I just confided in him last night. Told him how much I fucked up, and that the date the other week was the first time I have felt myself since the break up. I am sorry he shouldn’t of rung you”.

“Its okay I am glad he did, I still care about you Mason. I am sorry you are struggling”.

“Its okay it was my own fault. I really cannot hate myself anymore then I do right now. I broke up with Brittany by the way”.

“Yeah I know Lewis said, but please stop beating yourself up about what happened.  Its in the past there is no point you focusing your whole life on it.”

“You are my whole life y/n and I let you go over one stupid fight. I fucked my entire life, my entire future over one fucking silly night”.

“Mason stop come on” At this point I have now moved closer and let him cry into me. “Please stop crying.”

“Sorry I don’t want you to think I am manipulating you or anything I am just a mess”

“I am came here mase, you didn’t force me here so you are not manipulating me. I am surprised you even know what manipulating means.” And I can see both of us giggle

“You are not funny” Mason said wiping his eyes

“I am a little” Me and Mason just sit there in silence staring at eachother. Its weird to think that only a couple of weeks ago we were sat having dinner with not a care on the world and now it feels like we got the weight of it all on our shoulders.

“Y/n why did you come?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Your brother said a lot of stuff that made me realise how good we were together but I just cannot forget that night. You shattered me, I am still picking up the pieces”.

“I know baby I know, honestly if you give me a chance we can go back to the good and I promise I will spend every day making it up to you. I will never let you feel that way ever again”.

“I am just so conflicted Mase because my heart is screaming to take you back but my head is telling me to remember how you hurt me.”

“I know I hurt you y/n I know but please I will spend everyday showing you that I am worthy of your love”.

I do not reply to Mason as I have no words I learn across the sofa and place my lips onto his, he continues to kiss me back. “Does that mean you take me back?”

“This means we will see how things go. We start from the beginning again. No pressure, no expectation we just see how it goes. You were the best thing that ever happened to me I guess I should allow myself to give it  a chance.”

Mason gives me the biggest smile and continues to hug me. “Who would of known that Amnesia would of brought us together”.

I smirked at him “Well at this rate we could think that you faked the Amnesia to win me back”. I wink at him.

“Believe me baby girl if I faked it, I would of faked it a long time ago to get you back. Now come on I got a lot of making up to do” Mason said carrying me bridal style to the bedroom for a night of Mason winning me back.

[drunkoffsmoke]

Hi I’m back again!And if you don’t mind do you have any more platonic Headcanons but this time for Erwin or Levi as a father figure?

a/n: erm. ermmm. we are not going to talk about how extremely late i am. let's just say i forgot about writing this and hope that you forgive me🙏 decided to write for both as a little treat for being this patient with me. (im 100% sure you forgot about this too).

PAIRING: FATHER FIGURE!LEVI ACKERMAN x GN!READER, FATHER FIGURE!ERWIN SMITH x GN!READER (both separate)

FANDOM: SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN // ATTACK ON TITAN.

GENRE: PLATONIC, FLUFF, HEADCANONS.

! WARNING ! none.

Levi Ackerman.

He knows his job very well, he knows he's bound to serve and protect humanity for the rest of his life. Not like he wants it any other way, somebody needs blood on their hands so others can live peacefully. He'll be the one to bare his teeth.

But one thing he couldn't understand is you. You in general. No matter how many times he shoo's you away or throws snappy remarks, you always seem to be trailing around him like a lost dog. You don't ask for his attention, you just — sit there. Admiring him, even.

He's used to people admiring him. He's Humanity's Strongest Soldier after all, but your admiration is different from the rest. At first he thinks it's love and he was more than prepared to turn down your feelings for him, but then he realized;

It's not the romantic kind of love.

He overhears one of his subordinates talking to another one about you, specifically about how you constantly trail around and the reason why. Turns out your father packed his bags and left when you were young, leaving you and your mother behind with little to no pity.

Suddenly, it all clicks together. The greetings, the constant following, just the desire to be near him likely filled the empty hole in your heart, the hole your father left once he did too.

Truth to be told, he doesn't know how to act, how to think. He can't look at you the same anymore.

He no longer ushers you away. He kind of stopped with the remarks, too. They're still there, but they only come out in order to remind you that you need to do better in training or while on expeditions. Other than that, it's just pure silence.

He doesn't get affectionate in public, but while you two are alone, he might praise you or even pat your shoulder in comfort. His cold heart warms at the happy look you have on your face after he does that.

You might get accepted at the 'big guys' (where Levi and the other superiors sit) table, but it's unlikely. Still, he does glance at you from all the way over there.

Despite all of this, the training isn't easier — it's harder. He makes you do a couple more push-ups than the rest, make you run a few more laps and chooses stronger opponents during sparring. You have to be prepared if he's not with you on a mission, he can't afford to lose you.

He won't admit it, but he's afraid. Deeply afraid of growing too attached, of having to see you die just like the rest. That's the reasoning behind the harsher training. But in the end, your hard efforts are rewarded with a cup of tea he made for you and a few words of affirmation. Levi wasn't one to use many words either way.

Comforting is not his strongest suit, but if anything ever bothers you, he can listen. He can and will be the shoulder you can lean on.

You've never expressed your issues to him, or anyone for that matter — but Levi always seemed to know. Whatever troubled you, he knew. Or at least, had a slight idea. Sometimes he could relate, sometimes he couldn't, but he always cheered you up at the end of your rants with silly jokes.

While on expeditions together, you bet that he will be by your side constantly. If you ever get out of his sight, he'll begin silently panicking and desperately search for you. At the end of the day he won't scold you for leaving his side, but if you end up getting hurt, he'll either blame himself or grow irritated. You knew how to protect yourself and use the ODM gear, he was training you himself — so why is there a big gash in your arm?

He never says it but, he's sorry things have to be harsher with you. He wished he could be at ease more and actually be a decent father figure. It's just not in his nature to be like that.

But you know and understand that. And he's forever grateful for it.

Erwin Smith.

He notices almost instantly — the way you work extra hard whenever he's supervising the training alongside Levi, the way you always greet him and ask about his day, how you always tried to cheer him up after a tough expedition.

You're young, he's old. He knows not to confuse these feelings with romantic ones, so there's really just one option left:

You see him as a father figure.

He's heard of your issues from Levi. It wouldn't affect him if it were any other cadet, but it affected him because it was about you. The lovable and cheerful recruit who was never seen with a frown on their face. I guess it affects him because you're always present in his life, whether it be day or night.

He swore to keep things professional either way, to treat you just like he treats the others, that you're nothing more than a subordinate even with this growing fondness you had for him.

But subconsciously he grew attached. Subconsciously, he gave you soft smiles from across the room whenever your eyes would meet, waved at you and asked about your day whenever you passed by eachother in the hallways.

Much like Levi, he will train you just as hard. He can't risk it. He's getting older and older, who knows how long he'll be able to protect you?

But to his ease, you put up with such exercises and ever surpass his expectations. He can't help but feel proud whenever you return to him after running countless laps with sweat glistening on your skin. He can rest well knowing that you're capable of taking care of yourself.

Unlike with the captain, the conversations with him are always deep and meaningful — either about history or poetry, sometimes even about the unknown. Debates between you two happen often, and he enjoys every one of them because he's getting to know you and your morals better.

He's more prone to showing affection in public and that can sometimes get other recruits jealous. If they make ill-intended comments on your relationship with him, he'll step in and show that it's not their business.

One of his favorite activities with you is play chess. He, almost all the time, is black — that's because he wants to know what your first move is. He needs to know if you're learning from him or not.

Will probably not invite you to the 'big guys' table. He thinks you should spend time with your friends instead of with some old blokes who are also your superiors. But if you have none (you're not the only one) and the others are fine with it, he'll invite you over on small occasions.

Doesn't know how to comfort either, but he will give you his opinion on things that bother you. He'll hold you close as your facade finally breaks down and affectionately rub your back.

Asks Hange about things he could do with you. He wants to spend time with you and fill that gaping hole in your heart because you deserve better.

On expeditions, you will also be under his watchful gaze at all times. Won't panic if you're out of sight, he trusts that you know how to take care of yourself. Is proud whenever you return unscathed, but if luck is not on your side and you wound your leg, he won't be mad nor dissappointed. He'll spend some time with you and get your mind off the expedition, then return to his usual duties.

It's a bit harder for you two to spend a whole day together, mostly because Erwin is a commander and all of the responsibilities are on his shoulders, but those little moments where you just bring him a cup of coffee whenever he's been at his desk for more than two hours and leave right after make him smile.

He's thankful to have you.

[fridaysmind]

IDW Starscream x reader part 2 (end)

Just over a week without writing and already someone looking for me. Humans is such an impatient animals, lol. Scenario: Your lover has chosen someone else. Or did it just seem that way to you?

They had become much friendlier in recent days. The two of them used to have a hard time communicating, like hissing through dentoplates at each other. Now he's summoning her to his private office, giving you the task of keeping away from the place for the fourth time in a row.

Starscream is perpetually busy, rarely responds to your messages, and generally stays out of sight. Neither does Windblade. And here she is, snacking in the common room and happily making small talk with you. Despite the strength of all your inner acrimony towards your direct competitor, you good-naturedly discussed many things until you smoothly moved on to the topic of falling in love.

"Love is dedicated to books, poems, paintings, not only in our culture, on almost every planet, it's so adorable in my opinion, have you ever been in love with someone?" and Windblade stammered at your question.

Sipping from her cube and wiping a drop of fresh energon from her lips with an elegant movement of her slender fingers, she smiled meekly, examining the blue liquid with half-closed optics. It's enchanting…is this what you look like from the outside when you're suddenly immersed in dreams of your lover's caressing touch? But Windblade raised the gaze of her optic to you, surprising the sudden tenderness in it.

"You know, I think you'll understand me, I so need to tell someone at least, it's hard to keep it to myself."

With an intriguing start, she set the container on the surface of the metal table, folded her arms and coughed.

"I wasn't planning on falling in love at all. It's scary with the unknown, but there's nothing like it. It's like weightlessness spreads through my frame from one glimpse of expensive optics. I'd put the whole world to the servos just for one beautiful smile, you know?" she looks away as she speaks, then she burns you with that tenderness again and you feel that sadness come up to your spark.

You understand. Oh, how much you understand her words. How many nights you've spent with him together, dreaming of capturing his lips, how much you wish his optics, his wings, his cockpit, everything, belonged to you alone. And you see not just a femme across from you, but your own reflection, realizing that the anger is receding.

You think Starscream knows what's best for him. How can you hate her now, after such a confession? So tender and sincere. Your upper limb reaches out, wrapping around her wrist.

"I understand you more than anyone. That someone is extremely lucky to be loved by you out of all the applicants. Nothing could be more beautiful than love, especially when it's so pure." and you smile kindly at each other.

It wasn't long after your dialog before the formers at court began to whisper that the leader of Cybertron was preparing to choose his mate. You smiled sadly at these rumors, leaning back against the corridor wall at times, desperately imagining what these guys were saying about him and you. You've already accepted a lot of things as they are, Starscream isn't just some mech. It is written into the very culture of the seekers that it is a disgrace to associate and breed with the wingless. How foolish of you to even think that the chief representative of Vos would go against tradition. But the wings are the only problem, aren't they? If you had another pair of limbs on your back, surely he'd consider you a contender? You'd hope so. Life and routine are getting harder every day, your meals and recharges have decreased, and the worries have taken their toll on your health.

After many cycles, Starscream finally made time for you. As soon as you bumped into each other in the corridor, he gave you a glance and, frowning, asked you how you were feeling. You didn't seem to look well due to stress and didn't even notice, but you brushed off his questions, citing work and a little sickness. His red optics stared back at you in concern.

"Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor? You have the best doctors on this planet at your disposal, any ailment will be cured in no time, just snap your beautiful fingers dear" his voice is so sweet, like a hot treat outside in the cold cities of the planet. Will this bird sing to someone else and not to you? You nodded negatively.

"I'm feeling much better now, there's nothing to worry about, was there something you wanted to discuss with me?"

Seeker abruptly remembered why he had come, his wings abruptly rising and falling back to their original place.

"Yes, that's right!" he shook his frame slightly and smiled triumphantly.

"There's a special event coming up, one of the most important events in my life, and not just mine. I vitally need your presence, I've already sent you an invitation with the date, please prepare yourself properly," he squinted at your body, causing the embarrassment already frozen from the long lack of attention. "There won't be many formers there, but I really want everything to marvel in beauty at this moment. No refusals accepted, I won't hold the meeting without you!"

He didn't say more to you, so smoothly passed you onward, like a swan floating on the surface of the water, and disappeared into the long corridors. Taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily, you opened the invitation on the datapad. The venue, the date, the time, everything was in place. The rest of the information, even if it was a little more specific, was simply missing, but maybe it was for the best.

A fashion and beauty figure once said: "The dimmer your spark, the brighter your polish should shine." And you're going to stick to that idea right now. You are, for the first time in a long time, finally taking an oil bath. Hot, almost scalding hot. As if punishing yourself for something, you sink into it up to the top of your helmet and sit up straight again, removing the excess from your faceplate. Your preparation for the event is meticulous. Every curve, every notch, every detail is perfect. From the reflection, a fresh and shiny you stares back at you. Examining yourself from every angle, you felt the spark ache again, but you didn't let it fill your processor any further.

You're here. The last obstacle before the inevitable is the iron door. One step and the mechanism will work, automatically opening the passage further. Ventilating again, it's time to go in, you can't be late.

The small room is perfectly cleaned, smelling almost sterile. The lighting is spotty, atmospheric, and there are shiny decorations on the walls.

The first thing you see is Windblade. Standing next to her is Chromia, excited a little. Primus, how long has it been since you've seen her? The last thing you notice is Starscream at the window, watching the passing traffic, the burning lights of the high-rises, and the glitter of the first stars appearing in the sky. The view really is beautiful, and you're not just talking about Cybertron behind the glass.

You stand up next to two friends. A thought comes to your helmet. Maybe he and Windblade called each best friend as a witness. Of course. Are you really going to watch your nightmare come true?

Mech turns gracefully towards the three of you, the city lights softly illuminating his figure from behind as he smiles. Not a smirk, not a grimace, no, it is an unaccustomed soft curve that speaks of genuine pleasure. You stare at his figure as if hypnotized. Reminiscent of your best dreams, Starscream thrusts his manipulator with an open palm in your direction and your optics soften, but there is no counter-movement on your part.

You were brought out of your trance by a nudge to your shoulder. You turned your helmet to the side in surprise, Chromia's faceplate opposite clearly expressing mockery.

"Come on, did you fall asleep?"

Your consciousness returned to you, you blinked in incomprehension. What? You have to come up?

Still in the same incomprehension, you place your manipulator in his and seeker’s fingers wrap around yours like a wild vine, sending a stuttering vent. Your optics collide.

"There are too many things I wish I could say them to you, and I will certainly say them. Right now, I just want to express my gratitude for all the many millions of years you've been my most reliable shoulder. Of course, I'd be ruler of Cybertron without the support," Starscream smugly ran his palm across the top of his helmet, causing Chromia's optics to roll up. And you silently stare at him, at his facial expressions, at the optics burning brighter and dimmer, trying to figure out where he's going with this. "But with you, things have not only gotten easier, they've gotten considerably more pleasant. Rewinding the long snot, I'll finally ask already, are you willing to be the conjunx of this planet's magnificent leader?"

Silence. Mouth wide open, fingers trembling, your processor refusing to analyze the meaning of his words. Your gaze swings between everyone in the room, they look amused by your reaction. Moisture approaches your optics as you cover the bottom of your faceplate with both hands and shake your head negatively in disbelief. Starscream's wings droop in fear, do you refuse?!

"N-no…?"

With the first drops already rolling down your cheeks, you throw yourself around his neck, pressing your cheek against his breastplates and almost choking with happiness and tears, causing Starscream to exhale in relief and stroke your back. You whisper yes to him, and again. And again you say 'yes' as those present clap happily. You caress yourself against him like a sun-warmed cat. Is it real? Does he love you? Does he really love you? You smile and can't stop babbling 'yes, of course yes'.

"But why…" you sobbed, turning to the femmes. "…were you invited too?"

"I wish I knew why I'm here…" Chromia shrugs in response to your question.

"Because I have a similar offer for you." Windblade takes her friend's faceplate with both manipulators, and presses his lips to hers in a kiss, startling both her and you. The puzzle in your helmet comes completely together and your lips stretch into a bright, happy smile.

Warm, long fingers grip your chin as Starscream wipes away the clear marks on your cheeks and gives you your first kiss. A sweet feeling blossoms in your spark as your breastplates make contact and your manipulators wrap around his graceful neck. All pain and all fear have left your frame, you ventilate frantically, swearing to Primus that you will give him to no one now.

And let the ritual of joining sparks be broadcast to every corner of the world, let everyone know that you finally belong together

@skittyhugger, impatient bunny

@alexandraibis, lover of beauty

[witherby]

Heyyyyy how are ya 😼 I have an idea for angst (Although this has already been done by many authors but I'm curious see how you approach this kind of like concept)

"Neglected... Batsis.... Reader..."

(this is totally not me just manifesting for more neglected batsia content)

-🌭

Hotdog. Dog that's hot. Oblong tube of meat that sits on a bun. As long as you're okay with it not being Yandere, I'll give almost anything a shot.

Lonely in a Crowded Room

Platonic!Batfamily x Daughter!Reader

Content warnings: emotional neglect, isolation, hyper-independence as a coping mechanism

Masterlist is Here!

Your family loves you.

Your family does not have time for you.

Both of these things are true at the same time.

Your mother had abandoned you at the gates of the Wayne manor when you were an infant, leaving nothing but a note telling Bruce your name, her name, and that you were his biological daughter. After taking another DNA test for himself to be sure, Bruce accepted his role as your father and took you in.

Sometimes you wonder how different your life would be if he'd just admitted he didn't have the time to raise you and left you at an orphanage, where another couple looking to care for a child could devote their energy to you instead. You wonder if you'd be better off than you are now.

The thing is, nothing is really wrong. You're clothed, fed, sheltered, and if there's an emergency you are swiftly taken care of. You just don't have any kind of connection to your family.

Bruce gave it his best effort when you were a baby, when you needed more attention. Batman patrolled less often in the night whenever you had a bad time staying asleep. He bottle fed you, he read you bedtime stories, and he would bring you to Wayne Tower with him sometimes and keep you busy with toys while he worked. As you grew older, however, and started developing a sense of independence, that easy attention got harder and harder to get. Suddenly he was needed for a case, or there was an event Bruce Wayne needed to make an appearance at, or one of your brothers needed his insight during investigations of their own.

And, well, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. You learned to share his attention, choosing to be the polite daughter that could learn to fix her own problems, and eventually that meant to Bruce that you didn't need attention at all. You couldn't ever find the courage to correct him, to ask him to make space for you. So, still seeking emotional fulfillment, you tried to turn to your brothers instead.

Dick was unfailingly kind. He'd even remarked once that he always wanted a little sister, which was nice. But he was an adult by the time you entered the picture. He had his own life outside of the Manor, living in Blüdhaven and patrolling as Nightwing and maintaining a day job for the BPD. His already limited free time was spent for himself, chasing downtime he often desperately needed, and you didn't want to make him give that up for you.

Jason didn't come around the Manor as a rule. He had bad blood with your dad, and while he didn't explicitly take it out on you, unfortunately you live with Bruce, and so he just wasn't around enough for you to form any solid attachment. Plus, he's clearly got his own stuff going on, and likely doesn't have the time nor will to get to know you. You haven't tried to reach out and neither has he, which is enough of an answer about how he feels in regards to having a little sister.

Tim was kind of like Bruce. He had far too many prior engagements and duties to fulfill, from acting as current CEO of both Wayne Enterprises and Drake Industries, to moonlighting as Red Robin, to attending college and working on his degree. He'd give you a sweet smile and gently ruffle your hair if he caught you in passing, but then he had to focus on the rest of his daily goings on. Trying to catch Tim to talk was like trying to hold water in a cracked cup. He just slips right by you.

And Damian... Damian did not particularly like you. At least, not at first. He came into the picture a couple years after you were dropped off at the Manor. You suspect he felt threatened about there being another blood-relative in the house, and made every attempt to communicate to you that he wasn't happy with your presence. But, as you grew older, when the topic of secret identities and their nighttime work came up, you surprised everyone by showing no interest in taking up the mantle. You did not want to be Robin, or a bat of any kind for that matter, and that seemed to really mellow your brother out. His perceived competition wasn't even competing, and his hostility was for naught.

Now, he doesn't really give you the time of day. It took a while for you to understand that it wasn't malicious anymore. You know now that he's ashamed of his prior actions and doesn't know how to make amends. You've tried to bridge that gap for him, make it easier by showing that you hold no ill will, but either his pride or his stubbornness refuse to take the olive branch you're practically dropping in his lap.

So, you can't get emotional fulfillment from your dad or any of your older brothers. If you can't go to them, maybe you can turn to Alfred. He was a patriarchal figure, always tending to one thing or another and looking after Bruce and his sons after patrol. He didn't patrol himself, so maybe he'd have the time to spend with you.

And he did! He sure did. It just...wasn't quite what you wanted. Alfred was a former British Intelligence operative, and raised Bruce under the complicated duality of both a guardian and a commanding officer. He obviously knew how to talk to you like a normal civilian, because that's what you are, but it was overly formal. He was holding you at arm's length because he didn't know how to relate to you. You were familiar strangers, at best, and you felt that's all you'd ever be despite your best efforts.

So. No one is cruel to you. They are kind, they smile, they ask you how you're doing and genuinely seem to care about the answer. That's not the problem.

You know your family loves you.

You know your family does not have time for you.

Both of these things are true.

You just wish you weren't so terribly lonely.

[karinadele]

drabble on pharma x human reader

warnings: its pharma, everything is fucked

just me listing ideas and character traits so i can write...

Actions/Behaviors:

-would keep you on him at all times as if you were a pocket hamster

-600% will drug you

-preserving head and organs after you die

-mnemosurgery to pry into your brain and know everything (perhaps attempt a digital link with him so he's connected 24/7 like a sparkbond)

-physically consuming organs mainly heart/brain

-wants to cut you open while conscious to see your organs (will sew you back up after ofc) (will be sedated for no pain, but will be awake)

-propofol abuse? (maybe fuck you on and off it just to see how you react)

-will attempt to physically massage your heart in an attempt to maintain your heart rate. (and to have control over your life literally)

-would scarification his red cross on your chest (? horny tramp stamp? wow just thinking hurts)

-would withhold medication until you submit and beg (if you're too stubborn, he will slip just enough in without you knowing to keep you going)

oocs??:

-would poison you just to watch you suffer and then antidote you? (idk to make it where reader knows, or reader thinks it was a 3rd party. maybe pharma has gaslighted reader into thinking its external but always have an inkling?)

-would attempt to infuse you with energon/nucleon (if nucleon stops bots from transforming, what would it do to humans?)

-would try to forcibly physically put you in his spark

-would he remove limbs so you're stuck?? (i dont think so... but i do believe he will try to modify you)

-i want to see him use his chainsaw to engrave lines over reader? forming more blocky lines to resemble Cybertronians?

-probably drinks your blood, or at least taste it (maybe keep it in a vial in subspace at all time)

-permanent drug state?

-super ooc, i want to see him repaint/make reader repaint his autobot insignia with their blood

light analysis:

-pet names: dear, darling, occasionally love?? (not sweetspark??)

-ends sentences with "hmm?" / snarky

hmm? ah. tch tch, ah, ah! don't touch that! tongue clicking, lots of italics. (writing in his mind is hard...)

snarky, haughty, controlling, obsessive (to reader), does not want to see you in pain, but will actively cause you to be in it, naturally manipulative, more smirks than grins.

i want to say gaslighting, but will ease on it when he warms up to reader...?

internal personality conflict:

i see him as finding a human annoying, and originally toying, very traumatic shit, then warming up. (insert charm) not accepting that he has feelings, he pushes them into obsession. and acts them out in questionable physical actions.

thoughts:

quotes are ooc, just what i think he would justify his actions;

"no its not love, i just need them with me at all time."

"my spark isnt flaring harder because of love, its because they belong in there"

"they may not live long, but i can preserve them" (leads to infusing energon?)

soft pharma (say no tarn tcog or any incidents, or you pull him out of issues) (shit how did first aid get an evalv from rung but pharma didnt?? bro was sane then!!)

-would be tender, lots of physical affection (still)

-would organ harvest for you

-would tease you and be annoying (instead of internalizing it and coming out obsessive.)

[chewnotchoke]

to let a good thing die - gongfourz

warning: leehan and taesan, bff gongfourz, angst, friendship fallout, they call each other 'donghyun' and 'dongmin' but i'll refer to them with their stage names a/n: i originally wanted to make it a love triangle where hts fell for klh, however, i did not want to add a cliche love triangle anymore where their friendship simply gets ruined by a girl so instead, i just focused on their dynamics as best friends :) wc: 6.7k (my longest fic yet) playlist: bruno major - to let a good thing die // lana del rey - margaret // wave to earth - love // phoebe bridgers - scott street // conan gray - the cut that always bleeds // billie eilish - tv // lorde - ribs // mac demarco - watching him fade away

the one constant in a world that frequently felt chaotic and uncertain was the bond between leehan and taesan. their relationship developed gradually over time rather than being sparked by something significant or profound. they had this unshakable connection, built on an implicit commitment to always stand by each other.

there was something comforting about their relationship, like the warmth of a campfire on a cold night. it was strong, steady, and able to push away even the darkest moments.

leehan is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into something fun, tossing playful jabs or flashing a quick grin that’s as disarming as it is genuine. yet beneath his laid-back demeanor lies a quiet loyalty for his best friend, taesan.

for leehan, caring about taesan isn’t just a passing thought—it’s woven into the fabric of his being, a constant he doesn’t need to say aloud. his way of showing it is subtle: an encouraging word when taesan's fire flickers or a shared laugh to lighten the weight of the world.

taesan, on the other hand, is a force of nature. he’s full of purpose, his mind racing with ideas and plans, always reaching for a horizon only he can see. ambition fuels him like a roaring engine, pushing him forward with relentless determination. but even with his eyes set on the stars, taesan never forgets leehan. he values him as a grounding presence, the person who reminds him to breathe amidst the chaos.

to taesan, leehan isn’t just a friend—he’s a safe harbor, someone he trusts to understand him in ways words can’t always express.

when taesan forgot his lunch in middle school, it was leehan who pushed his tray across the cafeteria table, pretending he wasn’t hungry. when taesan showed up late to cram school, drenched in the rain, leehan wordlessly handed over his spare hoodie. when taesan confessed he’d failed another math test, leehan stayed up all night crafting a cheat sheet—not so taesan could cheat, but so he could study better next time. 

the park was washed in gold by the afternoon sun. the rusty swing set, a memory from their shared youth, was occupied by leehan and taesan. with each push, the chains creaked as they swayed gently under their weight.

as they watched a group of children play tag on the grass, their laughter resonating in the cool air, they had been silent for some time. with a heavy voice, leehan breaks the silence. 

“do you ever wonder how things might change when we enter college?” kicking at the mud beneath his feet, he asked the question. taesan could only offer him a wry smile as he turned to him, “why? are you worried about drifting apart as we’re finally starting to figure out our lives?” 

“something like that.”

it took taesan to give a response. he stared at his friend and finally added, “you know, the world doesn’t have to be perfect for us to have our own piece of it. and honestly...you’re the only piece i’d ever need.” it was all sincerity–raw, and unfiltered, and leehan could feel it from taesan’s voice. 

taesan’s grin returned but tinged with something softer, almost fragile. “i know life gets messy, and sometimes it feels like we’re barely holding on, and i know it’s going be harder in our 20’s, but every time i feel like i’m drowning, i think about this, us. and i know i’ll be okay.”

“but i’m kind of worried though,” taesan adds. “you’ve always been there for me and i’m scared of leaning too much on you, and if i am not reciprocating the same care you’ve given me. you’ve always felt like a brother, an older one. you were there when i scraped my knee, trying to learn how to ride a skateboard from you. when i had that silly breakup in high school, when i almost failed my math test. i don’t want to be a burden for you, where you always have to take care of me and make sure i’m okay whenever i mess up.”

leehan chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "it doesn’t make you weak. and for what it’s worth, you’re the one who reminds me to laugh when i get too serious, who pulls me out of my head when i overthink. you take care of me in your own way, even if you don’t realize it. so i want you to keep leaning on me, just as much as i need you here, too."

leehan’s mind drifted to the time in middle school when he had forgotten to finish his homework. the teacher’s glare had felt like a spotlight, and humiliation burned hot on his cheeks as he was told to stand at the back of the classroom. but just as he began to shuffle toward the wall, taesan had quietly risen from his seat and joined him. “forgot mine too,” taesan had mumbled, even though leehan knew it wasn’t true.

he remembered the warmth of that moment, how the shame of standing alone had melted into something almost bearable because taesan had been there, sharing the weight of it without a second thought.  

another memory surfaced, sharper and more vivid: the sound of pounding rain as leehan sprinted through the streets, his heart racing with worry after hearing his mom was sick. he hadn’t even noticed taesan trailing behind him at first, gripping an umbrella in one hand and shouting for him to slow down.

by the time leehan stopped, both of them were drenched, rain dripping from taesan’s hair and soaking his clothes. yet taesan didn’t seem to care; he simply held the umbrella over his friend’s head, his hands trembling slightly from the cold, determined to shield him from the downpour.  

taesan, on the other hand, found himself smiling at a memory of his own. he thought about the night he lost his cat—a quiet, aching grief that had made him curl up in his room and refuse to leave. he could still see leehan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but eyes gentle, waiting patiently. “food’s getting cold,” leehan had said, his voice soft. he hadn’t pried or tried to offer hollow comfort. he had simply waited until taesan finally stepped out, sitting across from him at the table in silence, offering companionship without needing to say a word.  

for a brief period, the only sound in the place was the soft hum of the kids playing. then taesan exhaled, a tiny, nearly apologetic smile pulling at his mouth. his shoulders releasing tension, and his heart feeling lighter than ever after hearing such words from leehan. 

that day, despite everything, it was just the two of them as best friends. and at that moment, it was more than enough. 

until things started to shift in their sophomore year as college students. 

taesan began to feel the heavy, unrelenting weight of adulthood pressing down on him. it was nothing like the carefree days of high school, when life was a blend of joys and trivial worries. back then, it was all about laughter, mischief, and the simplicity of being young. now, it felt as though every responsibility, every expectation, was stacking itself on his shoulders, threatening to crush him under its weight. 

but what tormented at him most wasn’t just his own struggles—it was the fear of becoming someone else’s. he dreaded the day of himself becoming the burden rather than the bearer, making his chest tighten with unease. especially to leehan. 

leehan often found himself waking up to the faint glow of a desk lamp at the dining table in their shared dorm. there taesan would be, hunched over his notes and laptop, dark circles under his eyes betraying yet another sleepless night. the sight had become too familiar.

"dongmin, don’t tell me..." leehan muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the room. his voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation. taesan glanced up, the exhaustion etched into his face undeniable. but instead of answering, he closed his laptop with a soft sigh and rose from his seat. he began gathering his things for the class that awaited him.

"dongmin, you haven’t been sleeping for days," leehan said firmly, stepping closer.

taesan paused, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "i have a really important presentation later," he said, his voice calm but weary. "i can’t screw this up." 

leehan frowned, watching his friend push himself yet again. "you need to rest, though. you can’t keep running on empty."

“i’ll be fine," taesan replied with a small, tired smile, brushing off the concern as he always did. "i probably won’t be back for lunch, so don’t wait for me. eat something good, okay? i’ll see you after class." and with that, taesan headed for the door, leaving leehan standing there, worry tugging at his chest. as much as leehan wanted to stop him, he knew taesan’s stubborn determination all too well. all he could do was silently promise to be there, ready to catch him if he fell.

it was just after leehan’s second class when his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. the caller id flashed ‘university clinic,’ and a strange chill ran down his spine as he answered. the nurse’s voice was calm but firm: taesan had fainted after a presentation, and his name was listed as the emergency contact. hearing that sent a wave of emotions crashing over leehan—fear, frustration, and a flicker of something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name. he didn’t even stop to think.  his legs moved instinctively as he sprinted toward the infirmary.

when he pushed open the door, he saw taesan lying on the small bed, looking pale, his usual energy drained. his lips curved into a faint smile when he noticed leehan, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’re here,” taesan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “why? have you eaten lunch yet?”

leehan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair to calm the anger bubbling inside him. “do you really need to waste what little energy you have worrying about me?”

taesan let out a breathy laugh, though it came out more like a cough. “i’m fine. it’s not that serious. didn’t the doctor say i just need some rest? i’m an adult now, leehan.”

“and yet, you can’t even take care of yourself,” leehan shot back, his tone harsher than he intended. the smile faded from taesan’s face, replaced by a shadow of guilt. “i’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the room’s silence. leehan’s chest tightened as he realized how his words had landed. he reached out, his hand resting gently on taesan’s arm, a gesture meant to reassure.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice gentler now. “i’m not mad. i’m worried. i hate seeing you like this. but you know i’ll always be here, right? whether you think you need me or not.”

taesan’s gaze shifted away, his fingers clutching at the blanket. “that’s what scares me,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “that you always have to take care of me.”

for a moment, the weight of taesan’s words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken. leehan tightened his grip on taesan’s arm, his own voice steady and quiet. “you’re not a burden, taesan. not to me. you never will be. so stop trying to do everything on your own.” taesan’s lips quirked into a faint smile again, though it was tinged with something bittersweet. “you’re too good to me, you know that?”

leehan shook his head, his own smile breaking through. “maybe. but you make it worth it.”

the silence that followed was warmer this time, leaving only the steady hum of the infirmary clock marking the passing seconds.

but the following days weren’t as warm. 

taesan had been alone in their shared dorm for three days now. leehan had barely been home, only returning long enough to sleep, his presence almost ghostly in its absence. the days passed in a blur, with taesan filling the space with his own thoughts and distractions, but something was missing. every morning, taesan would check his room to find that leehan had already gone—his things left behind, his bed untouched. it was as if leehan had simply faded away.

that morning, as taesan stood in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes he had used for breakfast, he heard the familiar creak of the door opening. his heart jumped in his chest, and for the first time in days, a small spark of relief flickered in his chest. he turned around to see leehan step inside, dragging himself like a ghost from the hallway.

“you’re back!” taesan said, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

leehan’s response was a strained, half-hearted smile that barely reached his eyes. he walked slowly, his footsteps heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, his bag hung loosely from one arm.

“are you alright?” taesan asked, his brows furrowing in concern. “you haven’t been answering my calls. how was your test?” leehan didn’t immediately respond. instead, he simply sighed, the sound as hollow as his smile. “sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “let’s not talk about that.”

before taesan could press further, leehan disappeared into his room, the door closing behind him with a finality that felt like a wall between them. taesan stood frozen, his heart heavy with unanswered questions he glanced at the clock. only ten minutes before class. he should go, but something worried him, telling him to wait. so, he did. he waited by the door, listening for any sign that leehan might come out.

when the door finally opened again, it wasn’t the leehan taesan had hoped for. leehan emerged, but this time he was carrying a much larger bag, his clothes different. his movements were mechanical, devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied him.

“i don’t think i’ll be home for the next few days,” leehan said, his voice distant, the words detached as if he were speaking from a far-off place. “take care. i’ll see you soon.”

taesan’s throat tightened, his stomach lurching at the finality in leehan’s tone. “wait, what? donghy—”

but leehan didn’t stop. without another glance, he turned and disappeared out the door, leaving taesan standing in the midst of a room that suddenly felt too empty and quiet. the seconds dragged into minutes, and taesan stood there, numb, watching the door as if hoping leehan might come back.

but he didn’t. the sound of leehan’s departure echoed in his mind, and taesan realized, with an unsettling clarity, that something had shifted. though he didn’t know what it was or how it happened.

taesan had known something was wrong with leehan for days. it had started subtly at first: leehan had been quieter than usual, disappearing more often, his smiles more forced. taesan had brushed it off, telling himself that it was probably just the stress of exams, or maybe leehan was dealing with something personal. but it wasn’t like him to pull away without saying anything, especially not from taesan.

last week, leehan had mentioned that his program had a qualifying test to determine if he could continue to the next semester. it was a big deal, and taesan had noticed how much time leehan was spending with his study group, buried in textbooks and notes. but even so, the silence between them felt different—longer, heavier.

but that night, after finishing his own studies, taesan couldn’t help himself. he opened the messaging app and typed out a message:

"hey, what else have you been up to lately? haven’t heard from you in a while. you good?"

he stared at the words, his thumb hovering over the send button, unsure if it was too much, or too soon. but it was the truth—he was anxious. he didn’t know what leehan had been up to, how he was holding up, or even if he was okay. he sent the message and then sat back, waiting. the minutes turned into an hour. his phone sat on the desk, quiet, undisturbed. 

it was only when taesan was about to drift off to sleep, the heft of the day pulling him under, that he finally heard the familiar ping of a new message. he reached for his phone, his eyes still heavy with fatigue, and unlocked the screen.

it was from leehan.

“i’m sorry i haven’t been home lately. and i don’t think i will be for the whole week. i’ll be back once i’m done. make sure you’re eating well.”

the message was short. vague. empty.

taesan stared at the words for a long time. there was something hollow about it, something that left him unsettled. taesan reread the message, wondering if there was more beneath the surface, some hidden meaning that he wasn’t catching. but in the end, the words sat coldly in his chest, unanswered and unyielding.

three more days had slipped by since leehan’s last reply. silence hung heavily in the apartment, with taesan left to his own thoughts in their shared space. despite the suffocating  curiosity, taesan resisted the urge to call, respecting the unspoken boundaries. seeing leehan occasionally online on the messaging app was enough to reassure him that nothing dire had occurred.

on his way to campus, taesan crossed paths with sungho, one of leehan’s friends from his program. a spark of hope stirred in his chest as he greeted him. “sungho, have you been with donghyun? how’s he doing?” sungho’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and concern. “donghyun? hasn’t he come back to your place yet?”

“no, i haven’t heard from him lately.”

sungho sighed, glancing away momentarily. “ah, you didn’t know? leehan failed the qualifying exam last week. it was tough—he had to retake it with an additional 80 questions. but he finally passed on the second try. if he had failed again, he wouldn’t have been able to apply for the next semester. and he would have lost his spot in your college dorm. he’s been a wreck since the test, crying a lot. i thought you knew?”

a load settled on taesan’s chest. he hadn’t known any of this. the silence suddenly felt heavier, tinged with guilt and worry. before he could respond, sungho gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “i’ve got to go now. take care, dongmin.” with that, sungho walked away, leaving taesan standing in the middle of the bustling campus, lost in thought.

late at night after class, the dorm was eerily quiet, and there was still no sign of leehan. taesan sat on the couch, his heart weighed down by the conversation he’d had with sungho earlier. the day’s fatigue clung to him as he idly scrolled through instagram, seeking distraction.

his thumb froze when he stumbled upon leehan’s latest instagram story. it was a group selfie with classmates, a table laden with food and alcohol, and the caption, “thank you, guys. it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

a storm of unspoken emotions swirled within taesan. he placed his phone face down on the table and sighed heavily. moments later, the front door creaked open, and leehan stepped in. his face bore a different expression than the one taesan remembered. something softer, more at ease.

“dongmin, i’m back! i mi—” leehan’s words trailed off when he noticed taesan’s lack of response. concern flickered in his eyes as he gently closed the door. “are you alright?” he asked, lingering in the doorway. “is it true?” taesan’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“what’s true?” leehan frowned.

“you failed your qualifying exam.”

“oh, that,” leehan shrugged, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “how did you know? but it’s all good now—”

“no, it’s not!” taesan’s voice cracked as he interrupted, his frustration surfacing. leehan blinked, taken aback.

“dongmin, it’s really fine. i passed the second time.”

“but you didn’t tell me,” taesan muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“tell you what?”

“that you were struggling. that you needed support. instead, you celebrated with your college friends. people you’ve known for barely a few semester, while i was left in the dark. if sungho hadn’t told me, i wouldn’t have known anything.”

leehan’s smile faltered. “dongmin, i didn’t want to be a burden. i thought—”

“a burden?” taesan cut him off, his voice trembling. “do you think i’m not scared of being a burden too? but other than that, i’m more terrified of becoming someone you can’t rely on. do i mean so little to you as a friend?” his eyes shimmered, tears threatening to fall. the room was steeped in silence, the pressure of unspoken fears and misunderstandings pressing down on them.

“dongmin, i’m so—”

“was it not possible with me, donghyun? is that why you didn’t tell me?” taesan’s tears streamed freely, his voice trembling with a fragile softness. leehan’s gaze softened, the sight of his best friend in tears pulling at his heart. “that’s not true, dongmin. i didn’t tell you because i didn’t want to add to your stress. when you fainted from exhaustion after your presentation, i knew you weren’t in the right headspace. if i had told you i failed, it would’ve only worried you more. you mean so much to me as a friend—i couldn’t bear the thought of adding more weight to your shoulders.”

“donghyun, i could have helped you study—”

“and that’s exactly what i didn’t want!” leehan interrupted almost shouting, his chest heaving with emotion. “i didn’t want you to see me as someone who couldn’t succeed on his own. it’s not about that! dongmin, i was more afraid of losing what we have here, in this apartment, than losing my own dreams!”

taesan was rendered speechless, overwhelmed by the raw honesty in leehan’s words. he hadn’t expected such vulnerability from his friend, and it struck a chord deep within him. “you always care about academics, and you wouldn’t understand that because you’re full of determination and purpose! you’ll never find yourself in this terrible situation, scared on the edge of losing your spot in what we share.” leehan’s voice echoed in the small living room, his words cutting through the quiet like a blade.

taesan stood there, frozen, the weight of leehan’s remark sinking into his chest. confusion swirled in his mind, mixing with a sharp sting of hurt. his brows furrowed as he tried to process the words, the frustration in leehan’s voice, the unspoken resentment hidden beneath.

“i—” taesan began, his voice faltering. he didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something that felt so out of nowhere, so unfair. “you know what? let’s just stop talking about this,” leehan muttered, his tone weary, almost defeated. 

“i’m sorry for making it a big deal.” taesan felt his throat tighten as he answered, the words he wanted to say trapped somewhere between his heart and his mouth. he couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore, not when it felt like every word would only widen the gap between them. so, he turned away. quietly, almost reluctantly, he made his way to his room, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick silence that now filled the space. 

for weeks, silence draped over the dorm like a suffocating fog. leehan and taesan were locked in an unspoken calm, neither willing to break the stillness that had stretched into nearly two weeks. it wasn’t pride that kept their words at bay, but the heavy weight of guilt. for leehan, it was the guilt of almost leaving taesan in the dark, of burdening him when he was already struggling. for taesan, it was the guilt of not being there for leehan, of failing to comfort him when he needed it most.

and beneath it all lingered the echo of leehan’s confession, his yearning for permanence in their shared space—a permanence that, for taesan, would always belong to leehan alone.

despite the silence, their care for each other never wavered. leehan would quietly prepare extra portions of food, knowing taesan often pulled all-nighters and might need a late meal, even though leehan himself rarely ate more than a small serving. meanwhile, taesan would tiptoe into leehan’s room after he had fallen asleep, gently turning off the lights and softly closing the door left open.

the semester was winding down, the days slipping by in a blur, and before anyone realized it, summer break was just around the corner. taesan had been singularly focused on preparing for an internship interview slated for the next semester. it was all he had thought about for the past week—a chance to inch closer to his dream, especially since it was with a prestigious company. with his grades qualifying him for the application, he seized the opportunity without hesitation.

amid his preparation, taesan had barely noticed what leehan had been up to. it seemed like his friend was also engrossed in studying for something, though taesan hadn’t had the chance to ask.

as a way to celebrate their hard work this semester, taesan and his classmates decided to unwind with a dinner at a local pub. the thought of sharing a meal and laughter with friends was a welcome break from the intensity of the past weeks. taesan was planning to break the silence with leehan tonight once he got home.

or maybe tonight was a bad time, because leehan was also at the pub.

leehan and taesan sat at opposite ends of the pub, surrounded by their own circles of friends. the air was alive with the buzz of conversation, laughter echoing across the room. taesan, though engaged in a lively discussion with his friend, jaehyun, couldn’t help but glance over at leehan from time to time. his gaze lingering on his best friend. he watched, not out of curiosity, but out of concern, silently willing him to eat more, to take care of himself.

meanwhile, leehan sat at his table, doing his best to ignore the darting glances and hushed whispers that seemed to hang in the air around him. he heard bits and pieces of the murmurs , gossip about his recent failure. he didn’t care. they didn’t understand, and they never would. the success he sought was never meant for them, but for someone else.

but on the other side of the room, things were beginning to escalate. one of taesan’s classmates leaned in, his voice rising just enough for taesan to catch the words. “i don’t understand how dumb someone could get not to pass the test on the first try. yeah, sure, he passed the second one, but that’s just wasting his time, honestly. right, dongmin?”

the words were a blur to leehan, barely registering in his ears, but for taesan, they hit hard. he felt his muscles tighten, his temper beginning to simmer. his grip tightened around his glass of beer, his gaze hardening as the same classmate continued, oblivious to the damage he was causing.

“kind of pathetic, don’t you think?” the classmate sneered.

that was the breaking point. taesan slammed his glass down, rising from his seat with such force that his chair scraped across the floor. his eyes locked on the classmate, anger igniting in his chest. leehan, who had a hint of what was being said, braced himself. his body was tensed, ready for whatever might come next. he wasn’t sure what it was all about, but if it got worse, he wouldn’t stand by idly. taesan walked toward the guy, voice low but seething with anger. 

“shut up,” taesan says. “you don’t know a damn thing about donghyun.”

the classmate, ever the instigator, stood up to meet him, unafraid and ready for a fight. the atmosphere in the pub shifted, everyone now watching, tension hanging heavy in the air. “what’s your problem, taesan?” the classmate sneered, not backing down. “you didn’t know a damn thing either. leehan didn’t tell you, did he? didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was for failing that exam.” he scoffs and continued, “after all, some people just aren’t cut out for that level.”

taesan’s patience had worn thin. the words his classmate had spat, the cruel mockery, the way everyone around them had gone silent as if they were waiting for him to do something, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. the burning anger that had been boiling beneath his skin suddenly roared to the surface. 

his first instinct was to grab something, anything. but even in his anger, there was a moment of calm. his eyes locked onto the nearest object, the beer mug resting on the table. without thinking, but with controlled precision, he grabbed it and poured the beer over the guy’s head. the beer splashed in a cold wave, soaking his classmate’s hair and dripping down his face, the mug now empty in taesan’s hand.

“hope that helps cool down your overblown ego,” taesan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a sharp edge of defiance in his tone.

but his classmate’s smug expression remained unchanged. his lips curled into an arrogant smirk, eyes narrowing as if daring taesan to do more. before taesan, could fully process it, the guy’s fist came crashing into taesan's face. the force of the punch sent taesan stumbling backward. the sharp pain in his cheek was almost too much to ignore, but he forced himself to focus.

the instant he regained his balance, his fist swung out in retaliation, landing squarely against his classmate’s jaw. but before taesan could take another step forward, he felt hands pulling him away.

leehan had rushed over, his grip strong on taesan’s arm as he yanked him away from the scene. taesan’s instincts screamed to pull back, to lash out at his classmate once more, but when he saw it was leehan trying to stop him, something inside him shifted. his anger, his adrenaline, all of it, suddenly dulled. his body, tense and ready for a fight just seconds before, relaxed against leehan’s pull.

“taesan, let’s go,” leehan urged, his voice low but firm. taesan didn’t resist as much now.

the anger hadn’t completely subsided, but the sight of his best friend trying to stop him, trying to keep him from making a bigger mess, made him pause. he allowed leehan to guide him toward the door. the moment they stepped outside, the cold air hit him like a slap to the face, bringing him back to reality. taesan stood there for a moment, shivering not from the cold, but from the rush of emotions that still swirled within him—anger, regret, frustration.

he looked at leehan, whose face was a mixture of concern and disappointment. taesan wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he just stood there, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t said and everything he’d done. he was frustrated, almost feeling like he wanted to cry out of anger. 

“why…why didn’t you say anything?!” taesan’s voice was rough, raw with emotion. “why aren’t you mad?!” his chest heaved with the force of his frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

leehan’s eyes softened, but there was an edge to his voice, a slight tremor that betrayed the emotion he was trying to keep in check. “why did you have to get into trouble because of me, dongmin?” his words rose in pitch, more from concern than anger. “this isn’t just about you, donghyun! it’s about respect. he had no right to talk about you like that!” taesan answered, his arm jerked toward the pub, where his classmate’s voice still echoed in his mind.

“i don’t need you to fight my battles, dongmin,” leehan said, his voice cracking with frustration. “i can handle it.”

taesan’s breath hitched, and he exhaled sharply, his eyes softening, the anger that had once burned in them replaced by something darker like hurt, deep and raw.

“do you really see me like that?”

his voice dropped to a whisper. “you always carry my burdens, you always worry when i’m about to break. but when it’s your turn—when it’s you, you don’t need me. you never ask for my help. i thought... i thought you needed me just as much.” he paused, swallowing hard.

“is it so hard to lean on me, donghyun? after everything we’ve been through, after all this time…am i still not the kind of person worth relying on?”

leehan’s heart clenched, the weight of taesan’s words striking him harder than any punch had. his breath caught in his chest. “you are,” leehan said quietly, the words heavy, as if admitting it physically hurt.

“you are… but not when we’re both having a hard time.”

a silence fell between them, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself was too heavy to breathe. the words hung in the space between them, too much to bear.

“maybe we’re just not the friends we used to be, donghyun,” taesan muttered, his voice hollow.

the silence deepened. it was the kind that pressed down on them, crushing, leaving no room for anything else. neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. the weight of the words, of the distance, settled like a stone in both their chests, suffocating the bond they once thought was unbreakable.

a week later, they were both in their dorm. on the surface, it seemed like everything had returned to normal, but beneath the surface, it hadn’t. taesan had just gotten off a call with his professor the day after the incident, who brought up the recent situation at the pub. the news was disheartening—unfortunately, the company taesan had been aiming for didn’t tolerate any involvement in violence, no matter the circumstances. as a result, he lost his spot for the internship interview he had been diligently preparing for the past weeks.

one night, taesan remained on the couch, his head bowed, staring intently at his hands clasped tightly together. leehan noticed the shift in taesan’s demeanor. “what’s wrong?” he asked, placing his cup of water on the table. the weight of the situation pressed down on taesan. it was crushing and disappointing, but somehow, he couldn’t even muster the energy to feel sorrowful about it.

the dim light of the evening filtered through the window of their shared apartment, casting long shadows across the living room. “i heard from the office today,” taesan finally said, breaking the tension. his voice was low, almost emotionless. “they pulled my name from the interview list. the internship’s off the table.” leehan asked if he did not even try to plead and reconsider, but taesan says he didn’t want to do anything of that.

“you’re not seriously going to take the blame for this,” leehan finally said, his voice cutting through the stillness. “why? why didn’t you ask them to reconsider?”

“because if i did, then standing up for you wouldn’t be worth it.” 

“you’re throwing your life away for something that wasn’t even your fault,” leehan continued, his tone rising. “you have so much ahead of you, dongmin. why would you—what would you now?” he looks at taesan.

“i’ve thought about it for days. i’ll find a new opportunity, and…”

“and?”

“and a new university.”

leehan remained silent, not because he didn’t want to speak, but because he couldn’t find the words. his emotions overwhelmed him, and soon he was sobbing quietly. the tears weren’t just for taesan transferring schools.

it was the guilt crashing at him, knowing taesan was throwing away everything he had worked so hard for, all because of him. leehan buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to contain the weight of his sorrow.

rather than feeling sad about taesan’s departure, leehan was consumed by self-directed anger. he couldn’t shake the blame, couldn’t ignore the role he played in this unraveling mess.

“dongmin,” leehan choked out, his voice trembling, “your dream was supposed to start here! and now—” he paused, gasping for breath between sobs. “and now it’s all gone because of me. i’m so sorry...”

taesan turned to face him, his expression calm but filled with quiet determination. his voice was soft, yet steady. “donghyun, this is the life and dream i’m willing to set aside for you, but i will never let anyone disrespect you like that. you say i’m full of determination and purpose? donghyun, you’re the only purpose i ever need. and i want you to be happy.”

his lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. leehan shook his head desperately, gripping taesan’s hands tightly, his eyes pleading.

“how can i be happy if it costs me you? how can i stay here and not think about everything i’m losing?”

taesan’s smile faded, his gaze locking onto leehan’s. he studied his best friend, searching for something, perhaps a way to make this easier, or maybe the strength to let go. the silence between them was thick, each word that followed weighted with pain.

leehan continued, his voice breaking with emotion. “it hurts like hell to let you leave, but it feels just as wrong to make you stay. i caused all this mess, and keeping you here won’t change anything. it’ll only hold you back from finding new opportunities. i can’t do this, i’ll go with you.”

taesan sighed, the heaviness of their reality settling in. he knew leehan was right, but that didn’t make it any less painful. the bond they shared was deep, but this was a stage that required them to walk separate paths, no matter how much it hurt.

taesan’s lips tugged into another bittersweet smile. “i’ll be okay. it might take some time, but I’ll get there. i always do.” he reached out, placing a hand on leehan’s shoulder. “this isn’t about me, donghyun. you didn’t ask for this, but now that it’s happened, you can’t just ignore it. don’t throw away something good because you feel guilty. that’s not fair to you.”

leehan’s throat tightened, and he looked away, tears stinging his eyes. “i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

taesan’s eyes softened, but there was a glimmer of pain. he let his hand fall away, his gaze lingering on leehan for a moment longer. “we’ll figure it out… just not now.” taesan said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

leehan could only nod, unable to trust his voice. his heart screamed at him to say more, to fight harder, but he was frozen by the weight of inevitability crushing them. without another word, taesan turned and walked to his bedroom, the sound of it closing behind him echoing through the soon-empty apartment.

months passed, and life took them down different paths. taesan settled into his new university, finding his footing amidst unfamiliar faces and new challenges. he threw himself into his studies, into building a new life, but the cracks in his heart remained, each one bearing donghyun's name.

leehan stayed behind, moving through his days in a haze of routine. the apartment felt emptier without taesan’s presence, the silence now deafening where once it was comfortable. he told himself he was fine, that this distance was necessary, but late at night, when the world quieted, he felt the absence like a wound that refused to heal.

both were consumed by the demands of their new realities, yet neither could shake the haunting presence of what was left unsaid. taesan would catch himself staring at his phone, thumb hovering over leehan’s name, wanting to reach out but knowing it wouldn’t change anything. leehan, too, found himself staring at old photos, the smiles frozen in time a painful reminder of what they’d lost.

in the end, it wasn’t a dramatic falling out that separated them but the slow, inevitable drift of two people caught in the relentless current of life and guilt. they had once promised to figure it out, but the truth was, some things couldn’t be fixed.

sometimes, even the deepest bonds can be undone by the pressure of guilt, and sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let go.

perhaps they were meant to be each other's anchor in their youth, a steady presence during the roughness of growing up. but as their lives evolved, it became clear that their paths, once intertwined, were now running parallel but separate. maybe they were never meant to follow each other into their dreams. instead, they had been each other's solace in the past years, a constant in a world that often felt anything but.

and though the distance grew, the echoes of their friendship lingered.

a silent reminder of what they had, and perhaps, what they were forced to leave behind.

reblogs are highly appreciated! if you reached here, thank you for taking your time to read <3 | @yuzuksi @leesolbeesol @candycane-lemonade @lionhanie @taylorluvation

[franeridart]

The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 45

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[roughroadhaley]

i don’t think it is humanly possible for the Robby-Johnny relationship to be as good as the writers want me to believe it currently is going, but i also don’t think it’s going half as bad as people on here or on reddit say it is, so it is incredibly challenging for me to find posts I agree with about them anywhere

[memento-morri-writes]

This is far from my best work, but it's 1:30am, and I needed to get this down before I slept or lost my mind. So here, take a snippet of Rook seeing Zara again for the first time in 3 years.

Trying, and failing, to keep his voice from shaking, [Rook] said “Hello, Captain.” Mouth still open in surprise, [Zara] replied “Well, hello yourself.” The reality of what she was seeing seemed to hit her as she rounded the desk. “Rook, is that really you?” He nodded. “It’s me.” Zara ran towards him, stopping just short of touching him, and said “What did she do to you?” Rook’s heart stuttered and he had to brush his fingers together to confirm Sigmar’s ring was still in place. Could she possibly see through its illusion? But then he remembered what Lanny had said. She knew where you were. His throat clenched and he choked out “Two years.” A wave of grief swept across Zara’s face as she said “I’m so, so sorry.” Rook shook his head vigorously. “It’s not your fault.” Zara ignored him. “It is my fault. I failed you. As your captain, it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, and I failed you.” Rook wanted to say something, to reassure her, but she pushed on. “She sent me letters, told me all the terrible things she was doing to you. I… I let you down.” Those words hit Rook with the force of a dozen cannonballs. Lanny had said that Zara knew Wolf had him, but knowing that Zara had been aware of what Wolf was doing to him… somehow that was more painful than any wound Wolf had ever inflicted. He barely managed to force his next words out around the lump in his throat. “Where were you?” And why didn’t you come? “She said she’d kill you if I came to get you. Or if I hired anyone to get you. You’re standing here because I stopped sailing.” 

(honorary one-time tag for @space-writes bc I remember you enjoyed my other bits about Rook and Zara.)

[girlivealwaysbean]

you know it's bad when you hit the 30 tag limit