#i mentioned to him that thing in reply and he was like

[rafes-slut]

You send your best friend nudes on aciddent

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader (Best Friends)

Summary: you wanted ro send nudes to guy you were talking to and without even realizing you sended them to rafe. He shows up at your house and he fucks you pretty

Warnings:(Explicit sexual content (18+), Rough, raw, and unprotected sex, Best friends-to-lovers tension, Possessiveness/jealousy, Strong language, Slight dominance themes, Mentions of nudes/sexting, Brief edging/denial)

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Your house was too quiet. Too empty. The kind of silence that made you restless, forcing you to find something—anything—to keep yourself occupied.

You had already scrolled through every possible social media feed, tried binge-watching a show, and even considered taking a nap, but nothing seemed to cure the boredom eating at you. The guy you’d been talking to—the one you had a… thing with—hadn't texted you all day, and for some reason, that only annoyed you more.

With a sigh, you plopped onto your bed, staring at the ceiling before an idea popped into your head. A reckless, stupid idea. But an exciting one.

Grabbing your phone, you opened the camera app, biting your lip as you hesitated. Then, without thinking too hard about it, you started posing, taking pictures of yourself—fully naked.

The longer you did it, the more confident you became, experimenting with angles, capturing the way the dim lighting cast shadows over your skin. By the time you finished, you were beyond pleased with how good you looked.

Your finger hovered over the screen as you scrolled through the pictures, feeling the rush of power that came with it. Maybe if you sent them to him—the guy you’d been talking to—he’d finally give you the attention you deserved.

Without another thought, you selected a few of your best shots and hit send.

The moment was thrilling. You smirked to yourself, placing your phone aside as you basked in the satisfaction of it all. You left your phone unattended for a while, assuming he’d take his time responding, so you didn’t bother checking right away.

It wasn’t until an hour later, when you absentmindedly picked up your phone to see if he had replied, that your stomach dropped.

36 new messages.

But they weren’t from him.

They were from Rafe.

Your heart stopped. Your entire body froze as dread crept up your spine. Confusion clouded your mind until you clicked on his name, your blood running cold as you read the first message.

Rafe: Tell me you didn’t just send that to me.

Your breath hitched. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you scrolled.

Rafe: Are you serious right now?

Rafe: Fucking answer me.

Rafe: Jesus Christ, what the fuck?

Rafe: Are you out of your mind?

Panic overtook your senses as you finally understood what had happened. Your fingers shook as you scrolled up, only to confirm your worst nightmare.

You hadn’t sent those pictures to the guy you’d been talking to.

You had sent them to Rafe.

Your best friend.

The same Rafe who had seen you at your worst, who had been there through everything, who—until now—had never seen you like that.

You felt sick.

Rafe: I swear to fucking God, tell me that was a mistake.

Rafe: Are you ignoring me on purpose?

Rafe: Do you even realize what you just did?

You stared at the messages, paralyzed with horror, your mind racing with what to do. There was no taking it back. No pretending it never happened.

Your phone buzzed again, and another text popped up.

Rafe: I’m coming over.

Your stomach flipped.

Oh. Fuck.

You barely had time to process the messages before loud, impatient knocking shook your front door. Your heart jumped into your throat.

Shit.

Rafe was already here.

Panic surged through you as you scrambled off your bed. You weren’t even dressed—still completely bare from your little photoshoot. With no time to properly throw on clothes, you grabbed the first thing within reach—an oversized shirt that smelled faintly of cologne. Rafe’s cologne. It was probably his shirt, one he had left behind on one of the countless nights he crashed at your place.

You barely managed to pull it over your head, the hem brushing mid-thigh, before the knocking got louder.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Open the damn door."

His voice was sharp, edged with something you couldn’t quite place—urgency, frustration… something more.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the shirt, schooling your expression into something nonchalant. Like you didn’t just send your best friend a full spread of naked pictures. Like you weren’t freaking the fuck out inside.

You swung the door open, greeting him with a bright, innocent smile. "Hey, Rafe."

His eyes flickered over you immediately, scanning your barely covered frame. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. "You’re fucking joking."

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. "About what?"

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a sharp breath before stepping inside, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary. "Don't do that. Don't act like you didn't just—" He stopped himself, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as his eyes dragged down your body again, lingering on your bare legs.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smirk. "Didn't just what?"

His jaw ticked. "Send me those pictures."

You shrugged. "It was an accident."

His blue eyes snapped to yours, dark and dangerous. "An accident?" He took a step closer, forcing you back slightly. "Tell me, how exactly do you 'accidentally' send someone half a dozen nude pictures?"

You swallowed hard, nerves creeping up your spine, but you refused to back down. You weren’t about to let him see how flustered you were. "I meant to send them to someone else."

His expression darkened, something flickering behind his eyes at your words. His voice dropped, lower, rougher. "Yeah? Who?"

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You weren’t sure why, but suddenly, saying his name—the guy you’d been talking to—felt wrong. The way Rafe was looking at you, staring through you like he was barely holding himself together, made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t prepared for.

His fingers twitched at his side. "Who were they meant for?"

You hesitated. "It doesn’t matter."

"Like hell it doesn’t," Rafe snapped, stepping in again, this time leaving no space between you. Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his chest barely brushing yours. His gaze flicked to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking onto your eyes again. "You were really about to send those to some other guy?"

Your mouth felt dry. You blinked up at him, struggling to find your voice. "It’s not a big deal—"

His laugh was humorless. "Not a big deal?" His fingers curled at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. "You seriously don’t get it, do you?"

"Get what?" You whispered.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore he might break his teeth. Then, in one swift motion, he grabbed your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Don’t ever send shit like that to another guy." His voice was low, dangerously soft. "Not when you have me."

Your heart stuttered. "Rafe—"

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly like he was at war with himself. His grip on your chin tightened just enough to make you dizzy. "Do you have any idea what you just did to me?"

You swallowed, your skin buzzing under his touch. "I—"

"You think I didn’t like it?" He scoffed, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "You think I’m mad because I didn’t want to see you like that?"

Your stomach flipped.

He leaned in, his lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "I’m mad because now I can't stop fucking thinking about it."

A sharp breath left your lungs.

His other hand trailed down, gripping the hem of your—his—shirt. His fingers brushed against your bare thigh, sending shivers up your spine.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

The second you didn’t tell him to stop, Rafe took that as a green light.

Before you could process it, his hands gripped your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifted you off the floor. A startled gasp left your lips as he placed you on the nearest surface—the hallway counter—knocking over a few things in the process.

Your legs instinctively spread, your oversized shirt riding up your thighs, exposing just how bare you were beneath it.

Rafe wasn’t blind. He saw everything.

And fuck, he wasn’t about to pretend he didn’t notice how worked up you already were.

A dark smirk tugged at his lips as his hands slid up your thighs, fingers tracing your soft skin. "You didn’t even think about putting something on, huh?" His voice was low, teasing. "Almost like you wanted me to see you like this."

Heat crawled up your neck, but before you could snap back, his fingers were already moving.

Without hesitation, he slipped between your thighs, brushing against your slick heat. A breathy moan slipped past your lips as he ran two fingers through your folds, feeling just how wet you were for him.

"Shit," Rafe groaned under his breath. "Look at you."

Your head tilted back slightly, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he teased you, his fingers barely dipping into you before pulling away again. Your hips bucked slightly, chasing the friction, and he chuckled.

"Needy, huh?"

"Rafe—" Your voice was a quiet plea, but he wasn’t feeling merciful tonight.

He pushed two fingers inside you with ease, the stretch making you gasp. He wasted no time, his fingers curling just right, pressing against that spot that made your entire body shudder.

"That’s it, baby," he murmured, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread for him. "Fuck, you’re already squeezing me."

Your legs twitched, the pleasure overwhelming as he pumped his fingers inside you, slow but deliberate. His thumb found your clit, rubbing small, calculated circles that made you whimper.

"Bet you weren’t even thinking about that guy when you took those pictures," he taunted, his pace never faltering. "Bet you were thinking about me."

You didn’t answer, but your body betrayed you—the way you clenched around his fingers, the way your thighs trembled.

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, but never closing the distance. "Say it," he murmured. "Tell me who you really wanted to send them to."

Your pride held on, but your body was already giving him the answer.

You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t. Saying it out loud would mean admitting it—to him, to yourself. That you never meant for those pictures to go to anyone but him. That the only person you wanted to see you like this, touch you like this, was Rafe.

But your silence didn’t matter. Your body told him everything he needed to know.

You gasped, yanking his wrist, pulling his fingers out of you before you could tumble over the edge. Rafe’s brows furrowed, his fingers glistening in the dim light, but before he could question it, your hands found his waistband, tugging at his jeans.

He let out a low chuckle, but it was rough, almost breathless. "That desperate, huh?"

You ignored him, too focused on shoving his jeans down. The second they pooled around his ankles, you took a moment—your breath hitching as you took him in.

Fuck.

You already knew he was big, but seeing it—thick, hard, already leaking at the tip—had you swallowing hard.

Rafe didn’t give you time to think. He grabbed your hips, dragging you to the edge of the counter, spreading you wider. He didn’t bother with teasing or stretching you any further—he knew you could take it.

And you did.

The moment he pushed inside, a strangled moan left your lips, your hands flying to grip his shoulders.

"Shit," Rafe gritted, his fingers digging into your skin as he bottomed out in one sharp thrust.

It was rough. Raw. Deep.

He didn’t give you time to adjust—he pulled back just enough before slamming into you again, knocking the breath from your lungs. The counter rattled beneath you with every thrust, his grip bruising, his pace relentless.

"Look at you," he groaned, watching the way your body took him, how you clenched around him with every movement. "This is what you wanted, huh? Not him—me."

Your nails scraped down his back, a broken moan escaping as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars.

"You feel that?" Rafe panted, his forehead pressing against yours. "This is mine. You're mine."

You couldn’t even argue.

Not when you were falling apart around him, your body trembling as you came, his name spilling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew.

And Rafe? He followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning your name as he spilled inside you, claiming you in every way possible.

[yunholic-jongholic]

Bound to the Bosses [Part 1] | C.JH x Reader x J.YH

SUMMARY | At the age of 20, you surrendered your freedom to a former mafia gang in exchange for a secure life and all your needs met. You pledged your existence to two of the members, Choi Jongho and Jeong Yunho, who managed the leading underground strip club and took you under his wing. They both permit you to perform on weekend nights, but once the lights go out and the workday ends, you belong solely to both of them.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader x Yunho

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | Mean Dom!Yunho, Mean Dom!Jongho, Strip Club Setting, NSFW, SMUT, Explicit Content, Alcohol Consumption, Cursing, Smoking, Mentions of Murder, Threats, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Threesome, Power Dynamics, Teasing, Foreplay, Hair Pulling, Fingering, Degrading, Praising, Dry Humping, Oral Sex (Reader Giving), Unprotected Sex (Don't do it...), Rough Sex, Marking, Bruises, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Cum-Eating, Size Kink, Overstimulation (THERE IS SO MUCH. IM CRYING. I DEFINETLY MISSED SOME. ILL COME BACK)

WORD COUNT | 5.3k

AUTHOR NOTE | 💋 Spicyyyyyy ;) Anyways, new 2HO Story. Tag List is now open to whoever wants to join (you can comment or message me!) This is a long LONG chapter series. (Most likely will be 8-10 chapters.) There will be more trigger warnings on each chapter since its very angsty. so please make sure to read warnings each chapter. Hope y'all enjoy this new story!

•

The distant wail of police sirens blended with the thumping bass of music booming from downstairs. Sitting in front of the mirror, you carefully applied your makeup, smoothing each line and adjusting your hair with practiced precision.

Yet, despite the familiar routine, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your stomach twisted in uneasy knots, the uncertainty creeping in—did you really want to step out there and perform tonight?

You stood up, slipping on your shoes and preparing yourself for another night of work. Stepping out of the room, you noticed someone standing silently in the hallway, eyes fixed on the world outside through the window. It was Seonghwa—the one who played the role of the gang’s unofficial caretaker, almost motherly in his demeanor.

You approached him, hesitating slightly before asking, “Have you seen Jongho anywhere?”

Without tearing his gaze from the window, Seonghwa replied, “He’s with Mr. Kim right now.” He exhaled a plume of smoke, the faint haze curling around his face before his eyes flicked toward you, sharp and piercing.

You swallowed, your voice wavering as you continued, “Could you... could you let him know I need to speak with him downstairs? It’s about my weekly allowance. Thank you.”

Seonghwa’s stare lingered a moment longer, his expression unreadable as he took another slow drag from his cigarette. “He’ll be informed,” he said flatly before turning his attention back to the view outside.

You murmured another thanks, his detached demeanor leaving an uneasy feeling in your chest. Shaking it off, you made your way downstairs, the muffled music growing louder with each step.

Descending the stairs, the dim lights cast a hazy glow over the room, shadows dancing to the rhythm of the pounding music. The bass vibrated through the floor, mingling with the murmur of voices and clinking glasses. You made your way to the bar, the cool surface grounding you as you leaned against it.

Before diving into the night’s performance, you needed a drink to steady your nerves. You signaled to the bartender, the familiar ritual bringing a brief sense of comfort amidst the chaos.

“Hey, I didn’t think you worked behind the bar,” you remarked, surprised to see who was serving drinks tonight.

Turning around with a playful grin, Wooyoung leaned casually against the counter, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yeah, well, I like to switch things up now and then,” he replied, effortlessly charismatic.

You couldn’t help but smirk. From what you knew about the gang, Wooyoung was the loud, energetic one, but beneath his playful exterior, he was one of the sharpest minds when it came to decision-making and planning. His unpredictable nature kept everyone on their toes—tonight was no exception.

He slid a glass across the bar toward you, his eyes flicking over you with curiosity. “Starting off the night with a drink, huh? Rough evening already?” He teased.

“Don’t make me tell you... I’m just exhausted from... stuff.” You sighed, your shoulders sagging as you lifted the glass to your lips, taking a long, deep gulp. The burn was familiar, grounding, and it was just what you needed to face the night ahead.

Wooyoung watched you, his playful demeanor softening for a moment, but he didn’t press further. He knew better than to pry.

Placing the empty glass back on the bar, you offered him a nod before turning away, the music growing louder as you approached the stage. The lights were low, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you stepped into the spotlight, ready to perform despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.

While you were performing, your eyes scanned the dimly lit room, drawn to a familiar figure standing in the corner. Jongho. His presence was unmistakable—calm, composed, yet intensely focused on you. He stood with his back against the wall, a glass in hand, the amber liquid swirling gently as he took measured sips. His expression was unreadable, stoic and serious, his eyes never leaving you.

As the music faded and the lights dimmed, you wrapped up your routine, the applause a distant hum as your attention stayed on him. Steeling yourself, you made your way over, weaving through the crowd until you were face-to-face.

Jongho’s gaze was cold, his features rigid, revealing nothing of his thoughts. His eyes flicked over you, analyzing, calculating, before finally meeting yours. The air between you felt heavy, the weight of his stare pressing down on you. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated, the words caught in your throat as his expression remained unyielding.

“Jongho... Mr. Choi,” you began, your voice steady despite the tension in the air. “I need to discuss my weekly allowance.”

He took another slow sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered it. “So, what do you need now?” His tone was even, almost indifferent, but the sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable.

You swallowed, feeling the knot tighten in your stomach, but you pressed on. “Well... I wanted to ask for a raise this month,” you admitted, your voice softening as you continued. “I need to buy some new clothes... mine are getting worn out.”

Jongho’s eyes flicked over you, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before his expression returned to its usual cold demeanor. He leaned back against the bar, his posture relaxed but his gaze unrelenting.

Jongho’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Well, since you’re done with your dance session, you can come to my office. We’ll discuss it there.” His voice was calm, almost too casual, but his gaze was sharp, traveling slowly over your figure before meeting your eyes once more.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure, giving him a small nod. “Alright.”

Without another word, Jongho turned on his heel, making his way through the crowded room. You followed close behind, weaving through the sea of people as the music continued to pulse around you.

The journey felt longer than it should have, your mind racing with anticipation. You could feel his presence just ahead of you, calm and commanding, his pace steady and confident. Reaching his office, Jongho unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open just long enough for you to follow before closing it behind you.

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow from the city outside casting shadows along the walls. You stood there, your pulse quickening as you waited for him to speak, he locked the door behind you. Going to the desk, his back turned to you as he set his drink down on the desk.

"You know u are the one who ruins your own clothing." Jongho hums. Getting closer to you as he caresses your face with the back of his fingers. You look into his eyes and nod.

“Yes, sir. I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as his fingers lightly traced the curve of your bottom lip. His touch was gentle but commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. Your breath hitched, the tension in the room thickening—but before anything else could happen, a sharp knock echoed from the door.

Jongho’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening as he pulled his hand away, irritation flickering in his eyes. He released a low, frustrated groan before turning on his heel and striding over to the door.

You stood frozen in place, nerves coiling tight as you watched him unlock and open it. Peeking over his shoulder, you recognized Seonghwa standing on the other side, his usual calm demeanor unchanged.

“Y/N was looking to talk to you,” Seonghwa said, his voice steady, his eyes flicking briefly to you before returning to Jongho.

Jongho sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m already talking to her,” he replied, his tone curt but controlled.

Seonghwa nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a step back. “Understood.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, his presence disappearing down the hallway.

Jongho shut the door with a click, his fingers lingering on the lock as he turned it firmly. His back remained to you for a moment, his shoulders tense, before he slowly turned around, his eyes locking onto yours once more. The air felt heavy again, the tension from before returning even stronger.

Jongho’s smirk returned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he crossed his arms, leaning casually against his desk. “So, here’s the deal,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I need you to get back to work. Once your shift is over, come back to my office, and we’ll sort out your weekly allowance.”

His gaze lingered on you, a teasing glint in his eyes, his smirk never fading. The implication behind his words was clear, but his tone remained composed and controlled.

You felt your heart skip, but you managed a nod, keeping your expression neutral. “Yes, sir,” you replied, your voice steady even as nerves buzzed under your skin.

Without another word, you turned and unlocked the door, your fingers trembling just slightly. You could feel his eyes on you as you stepped out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself before heading back to the main floor, the music and lights pulling you back into the rhythm of the night.

The hours dragged on, the music pounding relentlessly as you moved through the motions, one performance after another. By the time the clock hit 5 a.m., exhaustion weighed heavy on you. You sighed, wiping the sweat from your brow as you counted the night’s earnings—over $500. Not bad, but all you wanted now was to collapse in your bed.

Your mind was foggy, and the promise to see Jongho after your shift slipped away as fatigue took over. You made your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last as you headed straight to your room.

But as you neared your door, the low murmur of voices caught your attention. It was coming from the room down the hall. The door was cracked open just enough for sound to seep through. You hesitated, curiosity stirring despite your exhaustion.

Quietly, you crept closer, careful to stay out of sight as you peered inside. Hongjoong stood in the center of the room, his back to you, his posture tense. Opposite him was Seonghwa, his arms crossed, face unusually serious. The air between them felt heavy, the conversation clearly intense.

You strained to listen, heart beating a little faster as you tried to make out their words, unsure of what you were about to overhear.

Your blood ran cold as the conversation became clearer.

“Well, we need to get rid of the body. Yunho said the guy tried threatening he would kidnap Y/N and kill her,” Hongjoong’s voice was low and sharp, barely contained anger seeping through his words.

Seonghwa’s glare was fierce, his jaw clenched as he responded, “I told the others that we’re not going back to a life of crime. We agreed to leave that behind. I say we punish Yunho for breaking our new rules.” His voice was cold, unyielding.

Hongjoong fell silent, his expression conflicted, but he didn’t argue.

Your heart plummeted, panic rising in your chest. Yunho... killed someone? And now the leaders were planning to punish him? But what did that even mean? You shuddered at the possibilities, dread coiling tight in your stomach.

You backed away from the door, feeling the world spin around you. It was suddenly hard to breathe, the air feeling heavy and suffocating. Without another thought, you turned and hurried back to your room, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

What were you supposed to do now? What would happen to Yunho? And if they found out you overheard, what would they do to you?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your face pale, eyes wide with lingering shock. Your heart was still racing, but you forced yourself to breathe, pushing down the fear and anxiety that threatened to consume you. With practiced precision, you buried your emotions, slipping back into a composed façade.

Your hands moved mechanically as you began undressing, shedding the remnants of the night’s performance in favor of something more comfortable. Just as you reached for a shirt, a sudden knock echoed from your door.

Your heart jumped, panic momentarily flaring before you snapped into action, quickly pulling on the closest set of clothes. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to appear calm before opening the door.

Standing before you were Yunho. His expression was neutral, unreadable, his tall frame leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Oh! I thought you were Jongho... I completely forgot to see him after my shift,” you blurted out, your voice rushed as you tried to mask your nerves.

Yunho’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Unnecessary details,” he replied bluntly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you. There was no hint of warmth in his voice, just cold indifference.

You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. Every word from his mouth echoed in your mind, mingling with what you had just overheard. You couldn’t help but wonder—did he know? Did he suspect you had heard everything?

“What... what brings you here?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady, hoping he couldn’t sense your fear.

“Did you make money tonight? I need to pay Hongjoong back,” Yunho asked, his voice calm but firm, his eyes coldly scanning the room.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Hongjoong, the memory of his conversation with Seonghwa flashing through your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat but forced yourself to stay composed.

“Y-Yeah... I made over $500 tonight,” you stammered, your voice barely steady. Not wanting to provoke his impatience, you quickly moved across the room to where you’d stashed your earnings.

Your fingers fumbled slightly as you retrieved the cash, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back. Turning around, you saw his eyes fixed on you, unblinking and expectant.

You took a few steps toward him, holding out the money. “Here. This is everything I made tonight.”

Yunho’s eyes flicked down to the cash before reaching out, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the bills from your hand. His expression remained unreadable, his demeanor cool and detached as he began counting the money.

You watched him in silence, your heart racing as you waited for his reaction, unsure of what he would do next.

Yunho’s eyes lingered on the cash for a moment before he tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll be right back,” he said curtly, his voice giving nothing away as he turned and left the room.

Your chest tightened with worry, the memory of Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s conversation echoing in your mind. You couldn’t just sit back and wait.

Quietly, you slipped out of your room, trailing behind Yunho at a safe distance. You kept your footsteps light, your body pressed against the walls as you moved through the dimly lit hallway. The air felt colder, the silence unsettling as you watched him approach Hongjoong’s office.

He knocked once before entering, the door clicking shut behind him. You crept closer, your heart pounding as you leaned in, pressing your ear to the door.

Muffled voices filtered through, their tones low and serious. You could barely make out Hongjoong’s voice, cold and commanding, followed by Yunho’s calm but measured replies.

Your breath caught as the conversation grew more intense, the tension palpable even through the thick wood of the door. You pressed closer, desperately trying to hear more, hoping that Yunho would make it out unscathed.

Suddenly, the voices stopped. Your blood ran cold, panic flaring as you realized the room had gone completely silent. You held your breath, frozen in place, waiting to see what would happen next.

You pressed yourself closer to the door, heart pounding as the conversation grew clearer.

“Yunho,” Hongjoong’s voice was cold, his tone laced with disappointment. “Seonghwa and I know about your little incident earlier. You do realize we agreed—no more of this. We’re not allowed to get involved in these crimes again... not after what happened last time. It almost got Seonghwa killed.”

There was a heavy pause, the weight of Hongjoong’s words sinking in. Through the door, you could feel the tension radiating from the room.

Yunho let out a sigh, his voice quieter as he replied, “I... I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” There was a genuine remorse in his tone, but you could also hear the frustration buried beneath it.

The room went silent again before Hongjoong’s voice cut through, his words cold but calm. “Look, we’re not going to do anything drastic... but you could lose your title for this. We made rules for a reason. If you can’t follow them, you don’t deserve the position you have.”

You could almost picture the scene: Hongjoong’s eyes locked on Yunho, his presence imposing and unwavering. There was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, and you realized Hongjoong had stood up.

The air grew heavy, your chest tightening as you heard his footsteps approach Yunho. “We can’t afford any more mistakes,” Hongjoong continued, his voice low. “Get your act together... or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Your blood ran cold, your hands trembling as you clung to the door. You knew Yunho was in trouble, and if Hongjoong was serious, things could get a lot worse. You held your breath, waiting to see how Yunho would respond.

“Yes, boss,” Yunho’s voice was subdued, obedient, his defiance seemingly extinguished. You heard footsteps approaching the door, and your heart leapt in panic.

Without wasting another second, you darted away from the door, hurrying back to your room as quietly as possible. You slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Sitting on your bed, you tried to catch your breath, your mind racing with everything you’d just heard. You couldn’t shake the coldness in Hongjoong’s voice, the threat lingering ominously. What would happen to Yunho now? And if they found out you were eavesdropping...

A sharp knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped, panic briefly flashing through you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before calling out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and to your surprise, it was Jongho who stepped inside. He closed the door behind him, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they locked onto you.

“Oh!” you blurted out, guilt from spying on Yunho and Hongjoong still fresh in your mind. You quickly composed yourself, remembering why he was here. “Oh, right... my allowance...” you muttered under your breath, feeling slightly embarrassed for forgetting.

Jongho raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he approached you. “Did you have a good night at work?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes seemed to be searching for something, observing you closely.

You nodded, keeping your response brief, the tension from earlier still weighing heavily on you. Jongho stood over you, his presence imposing as his eyes lingered on you, his expression unreadable.

Before he could say anything, another knock interrupted the moment. You sighed, the fatigue and anxiety catching up to you as you turned your head toward the door. Jongho’s eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across his face as he looked over, clearly displeased by the interruption.

The door creaked open, and Yunho stood there, his face void of emotion, his eyes flicking between you and Jongho. The tension in the room grew heavy, the air thickening as the two men stared each other down.

“It was my turn tonight,” Jongho snapped, his irritation evident as he crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing at Yunho. His posture was firm, claiming his authority without hesitation.

Yunho’s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening as he stood his ground. “We both share her,” he retorted coldly, his voice laced with defiance. “And if anything, I was already about to fuck her... I just had to pay Hongjoong back first.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your face flushing a deep shade of red as their words sank in. Their bluntness left no room for misinterpretation, and the realization hit you hard—they were both in the mood, and they both wanted you tonight.

You swallowed, the tension between them palpable as they stood on either side of you, their eyes flicking to you before returning to each other. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind spinning as you processed the situation.

Jongho’s eyes narrowed, his irritation turning into something darker, his stance unwavering as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Yunho. “You had her last time. Tonight, she’s mine.” His voice was firm, possessive, his authority undeniable.

Yunho’s lips curled into a mocking smirk; his demeanor calm but his eyes flashing with challenge. “That’s not how it works, Jongho. We agreed to share, remember?” His tone was taunting, his posture relaxed but his intent unmistakable.

Caught between them, you could feel the tension crackling in the air, their rivalry intensifying right in front of you. Your pulse quickened; your body frozen as you realized you were the center of their standoff.

"Fine. you are so damn greedy now." Jongho hisses. "You can go after me." He finished as he starts lifting your shirt up exposing your skin. You just sat there in shock flickering your eyes on both of them.

"I am not going after you." Yunho glares at Jongho. Jongho smirks pulling you onto his lap. "We are sharing her tonight." Yunho's voice got deeper. You look into Jongho's eyes nervously feeling your face heat up. You shifted on Jongho's lap trying to sit more comfortably until you felt Yunho's hands travel up your body, snaking over your neck caressing your cheeks. You soon started leaning towards Jongho to kiss him, Jongho's lips crashed into yours as you both started making out.

You felt Yunho removing the rest of your clothes off, exposing your entire body to both of them. Jongho was the first to pull away and reattach his lips onto your neck sucking and kissing the skin. You moaned and slowly started moving your hips on Jongho grinding on him. Jongho groaned at the feeling, gripping your waist to keep you moving on him.

"She is so fucking needy." Jongho teased looking up at Yunho. "She is already soaking." Jongho let go of your neck and waist pushing you off causing you to whine. Yunho smirked and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

"Is that so?" Yunho smirked whispering and nipping on your earlobe. You nod softly as Yunho re-adjusts his position underneath you and places both of his hands on your breasts, squeezing them as they were stress balls. You whimpered at the feeling, Yunho smirking at your reactions. Yunho resting his chin on your shoulder as he continues to play with your breasts, squeezing and rubbing them.

Jongho on the other hand was now unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out. Yunho groaned as you started shifting on his lap softly grinding on his crotch.

"Fuck, you are needy." Yunho hisses. You hum in response. "Okay stop teasing me Y/N." Yunho throws you off of him and pins you on the bed.

"So, who is taking what tonight?" Jongho asks. Yunho sighs, looking down at you.

"Actually, I will take her mouth. I want to see her pretty face as I fuck her." Jongho smirks. Yunho nods just accepting it. Yunho flips you over and forces you on your knees as he stands behind you. You watch Jongho go over you and kneel down in front of you.

Yunho slides his hand over in between your folds rubbing two fingers back and forth before doing anything else. You immediately start moaning trying to close your legs together but his other hand grips one thigh to keep them open.

"Yunho!" You moan trying to stay calm, but you can't. Soon Jongho grips your face and presses his tip against your lips forcing himself in. Your eyes started watering but kept moaning and now gagging.

"Fuck..." Jongho curses now gripping ahold of your hair holding it up. You felt Jongho's cock twitch inside your mouth and soon you felt Yunho's hand leave, being replaced with his cock. You felt your insides go into knots as Yunho shoved himself deep inside you.

"She is completely wet..." Yunho breathing got heavy as he slowly started thrusting in and out of you.

"She is enjoying this too much." Jongho groans. You feel Jongho's tip hit the back of your throat causing you to gag and cough out.

"Too much to handle?" Jongho looks down at you keeping himself deep inside your throat. You look up at him feeling completely dizzy, eyes tearing up and you moan louder sending vibrations against Jongho's cock as Yunho slams harder into you. You felt your legs going numb as you kept trying to hold yourself up.

"Stop shaking like a weak scared puppy." Yunho groans and grips your waist tightly, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. You moan out and immediately pull away from Jongho's cock. Drool and saliva stick to your bottom lip and the tip of his cock as you moan loudly from the pleasure Yunho is giving you.

"Fucking bitch." Jongho snaps pulling your hair back and slamming himself back into your mouth. You have no chance to breath or moan. You try to grab ahold of jongho's thighs trying to hold on. Jongho pushes your head deeper, soon you started swirling your tongue around his shaft.

"Fuck I am close..." Jongho curses. Yunho groans bucking his hips into you. Wasn't very long until Jongho came right inside your mouth. Yunho on the other hand was still fucking you and Jongho finally pulled his cock out as he looked down at you leaning towards you.

"Make sure you swallow it all." Jongho speaks as you try to. Your nose scrunches up, but you just obey his order and continue moaning. Yunho hisses as you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"Fuck..." He curses as he releases inside you. You heavily breath out, chest puffing in and out as you try to catch your breath. You whine as Yunho pulls out of you.

"She is completely fucked." Jongho’s smirk deepened as he reached out, his fingers gripping your chin, tilting your face up toward him.

His touch was firm, commanding, yet there was a certain level of control behind it. Your breath hitched, your body tense under his intense gaze. Your eyes were clouded with exhaustion, struggling to stay open after the long night. Everything felt hazy.

"Look at me," Jongho murmured, his voice low but demanding. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his smirk never fading. "I think I can do another round with her." Jongho hums looking into your eyes.

"We can swap places this time. I want to see her pretty face now." Yunho gets up switching sides with Jongho. You felt completely weak and didn't think you could handle a 2nd round with both of them.

You looked at Yunho completely tired. He leans down towards you sitting on his knees.

"You are doing a good job tonight..." Yunho hums caressing your face. You shifted on your knees looking into his eyes blushing as his compliment.

Very soon you felt Jongho slam deep into you causing you to cry out. Your arms gave up and immediately fell onto Yunho's lap feeling over stimulated inside.

"Get up." Yunho picks your face up harshly squeezing your face. You look up at him moaning once again as Jongho grips your waist, pounding into you.

"Jongho!" You moan loudly out gripping onto Yunho's thighs, digging your nails into them looking up at Yunho. Yunho smirked as he presses his cock against your lips. You leave a soft lick against the tip, moaning against it.

"Fuck." Yunho hisses at the feeling. You feel your insides completely melting.

"I don't even think you can fit me in your mouth..." Yunho hums as you continue licking and moaning against him.

"Hm? Got nothing to say?" Yunho smirks. You turn your head to the side but immediately get turned back towards Yunho. He grips your face harshly causing you to whine.

"I bet she is enjoying this." Jongho groans. Yunho nods in agreement as he sits up and pushes himself down your throat. You immediately cough at the feeling of it hitting the back of your throat. You try to swirl your tongue around the shaft as Yunho starts bucking his hips into your throat.

"Fuck. Y/N." Yunho groans throwing his head back as he continues. "She definitely is..." He grips ahold of your hair biting his lower lip.

"She is taking us very well... She deserves a great allowance this week." Jongho readjusts himself before slamming back into you. You were soaked and messy all over.

"I am close again..." Jongho moaned as his thrusts got sloppier, you soon felt another release inside you. Yunho was still fucking you and not very long until he came inside your mouth as well.

"Make sure you swallow it..." Yunho huffs out as he pulls himself out. You nod and try your best feeling completely wrecked and messy.

"I... Can't do anymore..." You whimper feeling your body tremble as you fell onto Yunho's lap after the sessions.

"You did amazing tonight..." Yunho caresses your face, and you can tell they were satisfied with you.

"You need to take a shower and get ready for bed. We will pay you later." Jongho helps you up from Yunho's lap and you nod slightly leaning against Jongho completely exhausted.

"We might need to help her take a shower." Jongho laughs at how weak you are now.

"N-No. I can do it." You huff out pushing yourself up and grabbing clothes to take a shower.

After your shower, you rushed straight to bed, exhaustion weighing down on you. The moment your head hit the pillow, your body relaxed, ready to finally drift into much-needed sleep. But before you could completely unwind, the door creaked open.

Jongho.

You groaned, pulling the blanket up slightly. “Please… I’m too tired. No more,” you whined, your voice muffled against the pillow.

To your surprise, Jongho chuckled. “No, I’m not here for that,” he reassured you, his tone unusually light. “I wanted to give you a gift… along with your allowance.”

That caught your attention. You peeked up at him curiously as he approached your bedside, his usual confident expression softening ever so slightly.

“I was going to do it earlier,” he continued, irritation flashing across his face, “but Yunho interrupted.” His annoyance was evident, but he quickly shook it off, reaching into a bag.

“Don’t tell or show the others I got you this,” he muttered, almost embarrassed as he pulled out a plush teddy bear. The sight of it was almost comical in his hands, so out of place for someone like him. He looked almost… defeated, as if giving it to you made him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

Your heart warmed at the gesture. A small, genuine smile formed on your lips as you reached for the plush, hugging it tightly against your chest. “It’s very cute. Thank you, Jongho…” you murmured, your voice soft as you nestled into the comfort of the gift.

Jongho cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the moment stretching on. “Anyways… goodnight, Y/N,” he said quickly before turning to leave, his usual composed self-cracking just slightly.

As the door shut behind him, you buried your face into the plush bear, a rare sense of comfort washing over you. With a deep breath, you finally allowed sleep to take over, the tension of the night fading away.

•

DIES.

(Nothing else. No Notes. Sorry y'all I am a true freak.)

[nightplvmes]

it'll be quick

sylus x fem!reader | nsfw, +18, MDNI!—explicit content, penetration, sex in public place | an : i don't know if I like this, any opinion is welcome... likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

"Sy..." She gasped feeling her breasts press against the wall in front of her. Her breathing was already heavy and it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes.

"It'll be quick," he murmured, kissing her cheek. She didn't stop there, too many things were going through her head at once. The place where they were. The bathroom door. Sylus' hands sliding under her dress to push aside her underwear.

"Someone can see us," she gasped again but she didn't even make an attempt to get away or stop from him, she didn't want to stop, she needed him as much as he did. Sylus placed a kiss on her bare shoulder and smiled. It was an auction or a fundraiser... or a fundraising auction, she wasn't sure yet. Sylus had been teasing her all night and she had barely paid attention to her surroundings. She didn't even want to be there, neither did he, he had mentioned how those events were nothing more than a farce but he needed people to see him.

And now there they were, in an empty bathroom (maybe), her boyfriend's hands on her and she was sure what would happen next. "Spread your legs." She complied and felt another kiss on her cheek. Someone could come in at any moment and see them like that, what would they do if that happened? Just die of embarrassment. "So pretty... embarrassed and needy." One of his arms went around her waist, pulling her close to him, and his other hand slid down to hold one of her thighs.

"We shouldn't do this," she repeated letting her head fall back, allowing Sylus access to her neck—sucking with the intention of leaving a visible mark.

"No, we shouldn't," he replied holding her tightly before sliding inside her. "So tight around me." He left a peak on her lips and began to thrust into her, trying to be fast without hurting her.

She moaned, holding on tightly to the wall in front of her. She had discovered two things about Sylus: He could be slow and gentle, careful as he whispered sweet things in her ear. But he could also be fast, he could be slightly rough without hurting her or making her uncomfortable. "Sy–ah..." She wanted to say something, the words were in her throat but she just wanted to moan and writhe in his arms. "Fuck, that's... so good."

"Shh" He gently cupped her jaw, causing her to turn her face towards him. "Someone can come in, remember?" She nodded, feeling dizzy from the pleasure. Her mind couldn't focus on anything else but her boyfriend's arms around her and the way he was thrusting into her.

Fast.

Slow.

Hard.

Then fast again.

"Oh god... Sylus-" She placed her hand against the wall and he took it to intertwine their fingers.

"I know." He nodded without letting her finish. He could feel it, the way she tightened around him. His hand dropped from her thigh but holding her waist tightly, his free hand sliding between her folds to her sensitive clit. She whimpered harder, bucking her hips against him. "So beautiful..." Sylus let out a growl and took her jaw again this time to kiss her in an attempt to silence her moans.

"Mmph!" She writhed in his arms, heat building in her body and it was only a matter of seconds before she finally came and felt her legs shake. Sylus stopped kissing her, held her hips tightly and thrust one last time inside her. His deep moans echoed in her ears as she felt her insides being filled. She held onto the wall again to avoid falling to the ground, it took her several moments to realize what they had just done... and where. "I couldn't believe we did this," she muttered after a few seconds, her breathing still heavy.

"I know." He smiled kissing her lips once more but this time it was a slower and softer kiss. He helped her adjust her clothes while leaving kisses on her cheek or forehead. She wasn't sure if anyone had seen or heard them, she hoped she hadn't been too loud.

Sylus held her in his arms to prevent her legs from collapsing. He helped her clean herself up, though not completely, as a reminder of what they had done. The rest of the night he didn't leave her side for a second, but that was normal. What was not usual was feeling the remains of his seed still inside her every time she had to move.

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 10

Summary: Bella endures her transition to a Vampire while Y/N's condition continues to worsen.

TW: Mentions of death/injury/illness, lack of regard for the feelings of others, medical testing, needles, blood.

The Cullen family was left unscathed after Jacob imprinted on Renesmee. The Wolves were forced to abandon their quest to kill the child, but tensions were still high. Y/N had been released from her quarantine and had finally been allowed to move about the house freely.

She took full advantage of her newfound freedom, but there were some things that Carlisle still wouldn't allow. Y/N was not to step foot outside the house unless someone was with her. She became quickly exhausted after any kind of physical activity and her heart beat would become irregular. Carlisle was strict about her having a companion in case something were to happen.

Y/N walked along the road with Jacob Black by her side. He had been focused on Renesmee since he had imprinted, Bella was still in transition and he felt responsible for the baby girl. Jacob had been incredibly tense as he watched over Renesmee and Carlisle encouraged him to take a moment away. Jacob went reluctantly and the pair walked in silence until he looked over at her.

"Why exactly do you need a babysitter?" Jacob asked.

"I'm dying," Y/N stated simply.

"What? I thought that Vampires couldn't die unless they're torn apart," Jacob said.

"Apparently they can... I bleed, I cry, I eat and my body is falling apart for no apparent reason," Y/N said.

"That sucks," Jacob said.

Y/N huffed a laugh, "Yeah, it does," She replied.

"Still doesn't really explain why I'm following you around though," Jacob said.

"Carlisle said that my heart beat is irregular. He's worried that something could happen to me while I'm alone," Y/N stated.

"Have you left your house at all since you started becoming human?" Jacob asked.

She glared at him, "I am not a human," She corrected quickly.

"Well, whatever you are then," He amended.

"No, you and your wolf friends had my house surrounded. Remember?" Y/N questioned.

"So, you're pretty new to not being a bloodsucker then, huh?" He asked.

"I guess you could say that," She replied.

"Do you want to go into town for a bit? Maybe we can get some actual food," He offered.

"I would do anything to leave that place right now. Since Bella died, Carlisle has devoted the entirety of his time to testing me for anything he can possibly think of. Then I have to sit there and watch Edward stay by his wife as she magically comes back from the dead. Don't even get me started on that rapidly growing demon that they produced... It's like my own personal hell," Y/N said.

Jacob laughed and Y/N shot him a serious look, "I didn't realize that I said something funny," Y/N said.

"It may not be funny, but it is ironic because I was in love with Bella and I was ready to kill Edward when she died. Then I went to get the baby to hand over to the pack and in some ridiculous twist of fate, I actually imprinted on her. Now I practically live in the house with the guy I hate, the girl I used to love and their daughter," Jacob said.

"If I weren't going to die horrifically, I might actually say that you have it worse," Y/N replied.

"We're just two of the luckiest people around, huh?" He questioned, she nodded.

"Where are you taking me then?" Y/N asked.

"A diner. I'm going to get you the biggest and most greasy burger they offer along with fries and a milkshake," Jacob listed.

"All of that sounds absolutely repulsive, but I'm excited to try it," She said.

"Good," Jacob nodded.

The pair returned to the house and Y/N went up to tell Carlisle that she was leaving. She returned after a few minutes with a pair of car keys dangling from her finger.

"He said no to the motorcycle," She stated.

"Maybe another day," Jacob replied, holding out his hand.

Y/N placed the keys into his palm, "I'm definitely riding on a motorcycle before I die. I'm trusting you to make that happen," She said.

"I can definitely do that for you," Jacob assured.

They made their way down to the garage and got into one of the cars. Jacob started the car and opened the garage before driving out onto the road.

Y/N settled back into her seat as she looked out the window, "Just for my own curiosity, how long does it usually take for someone to come back from the dead?" Jacob questioned.

"Usually takes about three days. The morphine that Bella had in her system could definitely have an effect on it though," Y/N stated.

"Three days of waiting," Jacob huffed.

"At least she's not awake and screaming like the rest of us were," Y/N said.

"It hurt that badly?" Jacob asked, glancing over at her.

"The worst pain I've ever felt. It was like every nerve being scorched and having your skin peeled from your body. It was misery," She said.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," He said.

"It gave me a lifetime of pain and loneliness like I have never known before. I would have chosen death a thousand times over," Y/N replied.

"Who was it?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N said, looking over at him.

"Who was it that broke your heart?" Jacob clarified.

Y/N hesitated, "Carlisle first and Edward second," She answered.

Jacob scoffed, "Well, with that information, you definitely earned the title of having the worst situation possible," Jacob said.

"I've always been an overachiever," She deadpanned with a smirk.

Jacob smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, "Ready to eat?" He asked.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," She replied.

The pair got out of the car and made their way into the restaurant, they were sat in a booth and given a moment to look over the menu.

Y/N stared at the laminated sheet with wide eyes, finding herself overwhelmed by the options as she slowly opened the menu.

"Wow, this is a lot of stuff," She mumbled.

"Do you want me to just order for you?" Jacob questioned.

"That would be lovely," Y/N replied.

"Do you have any preference on milkshake flavor?" He asked.

"The last meal that I had as a living person was probably boiled cabbage and stale bread. You can pick whatever you want and I'm sure it will be better than anything I've ever eaten," She replied, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

"Point taken," He nodded.

The waitress returned to their table with her notepad and pen in hand, "What can I get for you two today?" She questioned.

"For drinks, we'd like one chocolate and one vanilla milkshake. And for food, we'll get two of the bacon cheeseburgers with fries," Jacob listed.

"Perfect, I'll get that going for you," The waitress nodded, collecting the menus and moving off to the kitchen.

"Why did you get two different flavor drinks?" Y/N asked.

"So you can try both and keep whichever one you like best," Jacob shrugged.

"That's very kind of you," She said.

"It's no big deal," He replied.

"It is to me," Y/N stated.

The drinks came out quickly and the food followed shortly after. Jacob put two plastic straws into the milkshakes and slid them across the table to her.

Y/N leaned forward, taking a sip of the vanilla milkshake before moving over to the chocolate and taking another sip.

"What's the verdict?" He questioned.

"I like the lighter one more," She said, tapping a finger against the side of the first glass.

Jacob slid the chocolate milkshake back over to his side of the table, "Good choice. The vanilla one is my personal favorite," He said, taking a sip from the same straw.

"You can have it if you like it more," Y/N said, moving to slide it over to him.

"You're the one who's new to human food. You get to keep the milkshake that you like best," Jacob said, resting his hand over hers and pushing it back over to her side of the table.

They ate and chatted about their lives before reluctantly returning to the Cullen house.

"I had fun tonight. You're pretty cool for an ex-bloodsucker," Jacob said.

"I had fun too and I suppose I should say thank you," Y/N replied.

"It was definitely meant as a compliment," Jacob assured, "And you can feel free to come find me whenever you want to go on another nature walk or do something ridiculously stupid just to cross it off your bucket list," He continued.

"I will definitely take you up on that," Y/N nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sleep well," He said.

"You too," Y/N replied, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

...

Y/N stood in the shower, lathering the shampoo into her hair before stepping under the water. She washed the soap from her scalp, allowing the warm water to run over her skin. Y/N lowered her arms as her heart began to race in her chest, she let out a shaky exhale and leaned into the wall.

Y/N suddenly felt lightheaded and exhausted, breathing heavily as she slid down the wall weakly. Her arms fell in front of her body limply as she leaned into the wall, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Carlisle," She called softly, her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly before Carlisle reached in and turned off the water. He stepped away, grabbing her robe before kneeling down next to the bathtub.

Carlisle maneuvered her body around easily, slipping her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the robe around her body. He tied the belt at her waist before slipping his arms underneath her and lifting her into his arms.

Y/N's head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, head pounding as her heart raced in her chest. He carried her into her bedroom before carefully setting her down on her bed.

Carlisle brought over the vitals machine, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm and placing the probe on her finger. Y/N grimaced as the cuff began to inflate, but she was far too exhausted to say anything.

"Your blood pressure is incredibly low," Carlisle stated, reaching over and resting his hand on the side of her neck.

His fingers found her pulse point easily, feeling the rapid pulsation of her heart against his fingertips.

"I don't feel good," She mumbled shakily.

"I'll get you one fluids and we'll see if that helps," Carlisle said.

Y/N closed her eyes, unable to do anything besides breathe as her body began to shiver. Carlisle returned with a bag of fluids and a primed line, hanging it up on the pole beside her bed.

"Are you cold?" He questioned, noticing the way her body trembled.

She nodded silently and Carlisle stepped into her closet, he returned with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.

"Not mine," Y/N mumbled.

"Alice thought that you should have something comfortable and warm to wear," Carlisle said, setting the items on the edge of her bed.

He helped her dry off and get dressed before getting her settled in the bed. Carlisle sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, tying the tourniquet around her arm and flexing her wrist as his eyes scanned her skin.

Carlisle cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe before opening his needle and removing the cap. Y/N turned her head away as he pushed the needle into her vein, he held the cannula in place as he retracted the needle. He connected the tubing to the cannula quickly before laying a clear dressing on top of it.

Carlisle pressed the edges against her skin carefully before reaching up to grab his IV tubing and connecting it to her. Y/N looked over as he stood up, programming the machine and opening the roller clamps.

The fluid slowly began to drip as the infusion started, "You should try and get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit," Carlisle said, she nodded.

Y/N drifted off into a dreamless sleep before Carlisle had even stepped foot into the hallway. She slept for hours, body shivering silently as she struggled to retain her warmth. Carlisle added a few more blankets on top of her, but nothing seemed to help with the icy chill that had come over her.

Carlisle slowly made his way into the living room where the family was sitting. Esme held Renesmee in her arms while Rosalie watched them with a fond smile.

"Jacob, could I borrow you for a moment?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," He nodded, standing up from his seat and following Carlisle down the hallway.

"I have a bit of an odd request and you can refuse if it makes you uncomfortable," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Y/N had a bit of a medical episode tonight," Carlisle started.

"Is she okay?" Jacob questioned.

"She's fine, but she's incredibly cold and I can't seem to get her temperature up," Carlisle said.

"I can definitely help with that," Jacob nodded.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied, leading Jacob down the hallway to her bedroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, allowing Jacob to make his way into the room before closing the door gently.

"Jeez, how many blankets do you have her buried under?" Jacob asked with a smile.

"Five, I believe," Carlisle stated.

Jacob moved around to the other side of the bed, stepping out of his boots before lifting the blankets and laying down beside her.

Jacob shifted closer to her and she turned towards him in her sleep, immediately drawn in by the heat he gave off. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and guided her body into his side.

Y/N let out a soft breath, her head resting on his chest as she soaked up his warmth, "She's freezing," Jacob muttered, rubbing his hand over her back gently.

"I'm not much help in that department, unfortunately," Carlisle said.

"Well, I got it from here," Jacob assured.

"Just be conscious of the IV and call for me if something happens," Carlisle said, Jacob nodded.

Carlisle made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself carefully. Jacob settled back into the pillows, brushing his hand over her back until he eventually drifted off to sleep beside her.

Jacob awoke when the sky was dark, he turned his head to see Carlisle standing at the bedside. He hung a new bag of fluids on the IV pole before connecting it and pressing a few buttons on the machine to restart the infusion.

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms as Carlisle programmed the pump, eyes fluttering open slowly. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from him slightly.

"What's going on?" She mumbled.

"You were cold," Jacob replied.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, laying back down on her back beside Jacob.

"I can go if you want," Jacob offered.

"No, it's too cold in this place," She huffed, lifting the blankets up higher over her body as her teeth chattered slightly.

"Here," Jacob smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to his side.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as his hand settled on her arm, "Better?" He questioned, she nodded and closed her eyes. Carlisle smiled softly to himself, quietly exiting the room and closing the door.

"I know you're not here for me, but I still appreciate it," Y/N said softly.

"You're probably one of the best living people in this house right now. Us humans need to stick together," Jacob said.

"Still not human," Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Whatever you say," Jacob replied, rubbing his hand over her arm gently.

...

Carlisle opened the door to Y/N's bedroom and paused when he realized that the bed was empty. Jacob had stayed with her for a few hours before returning to the living room to be with Renesmee. She had been asleep when he last checked on her and the empty bed made him nervous.

"Y/N," Carlisle called.

"In here," Y/N replied softly.

He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her back leaned against the wall. Y/N was incredibly pale with dark bags under her eyes, exhausted and weak as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"I can't stop throwing up," Y/N mumbled.

"How long have you been in here?" Carlisle asked.

"An hour," She replied.

"Why didn't you call for me? I could've given you something to help with the nausea," He said gently.

"Feels like someone shoved a hot branding iron down my throat," She muttered.

"I could get you some water or tea to help," Carlisle offered.

"Just want to sleep," Y/N stated.

"Can you stand?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"No, everything hurts," She grumbled.

Carlisle nodded, kneeling down and sliding his arm underneath her body before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N let out a soft whimper, grimacing in pain and gripping onto him as he picked her up.

Carlisle turned around and set her down on the countertop. He prepared her toothbrush before passing it to her, wetting a cloth under some warm water as she brushed her teeth.

Y/N leaned over and spit into the sink, Carlisle took the toothbrush from her hand and offered her the cloth. Y/N wiped the cloth over her skin, arms falling limply in her lap as she breathed heavily, utterly exhausted from the simple act of wiping her face.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I'm not and I wish you'd stop asking me that," She snapped.

Carlisle didn't reply, giving her a moment to rest as he put everything away. He stepped back over to her when her breathing rate had returned to normal.

"Ready?" He asked, she nodded.

Carlisle lifted her into his arms carefully before he carried her into her room and placed her down on her bed. Y/N grimaced as she laid back, closing her eyes as she took a few shaky breaths.

"How bad is the pain?" Carlisle questioned.

"Terrible," She stated, growing irritated with his questions as she struggled to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something for the pain and the nausea," Carlisle said, standing up from the edge of the bed.

"Or you could just snap my neck now and put me out of my misery," Y/N offered.

"That's not an option and you know that," Carlisle replied gently.

"What quality of life do I have, Carlisle? My teeth are falling out, my body aches like I have broken glass flowing through my veins and I can't do simple tasks without feeling completely exhausted. I am miserable and it isn't going to get any better," She stated.

"There are still things we can try, Y/N. You were doing incredibly well a few days ago, we don't have to jump to extremes just yet. Pain medications, sedatives and anti-nausea drugs can drastically improve your comfort level," Carlisle said.

Y/N scoffed, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a narcotic haze as my body shuts down," She snapped.

"Dosages can be adjusted. It doesn't have to be that way," Carlisle assured.

"You've done as much as you can for me. It's time to give up," Y/N stated.

"That's not what you really want," He said.

"How would you know what I want? You haven't cared enough to know me for an incredibly long time, Carlisle," She said.

"You're right... I haven't been there for you in the way that you wanted, but I'm here now and I want to help you," Carlisle pressed.

"You can't help me," Y/N stated firmly, "But you can let me go," She continued.

"We can talk about our options tomorrow. You should try and get some rest," Carlisle advised.

Y/N shook her head, looking away as Carlisle made his way out of her bedroom and closed the door.

Edward stood in the hallway, "She wants to die?" He questioned.

"She does," Carlisle replied.

"We can't let that happen," Edward stated.

"I'm going to try and convince her to pursue alternative treatment options, but she doesn't seem optimistic," Carlisle said.

"I'll talk to her," Edward said, Carlisle shook his head.

"Bella could be waking up any moment now, she's going to need you. I can deal with Y/N for the time being," Carlisle assured.

"When Bella wakes up, Y/N is going to need someone with her at all times. The bloodlust could overwhelm Bella and Y/N wouldn't stand a chance," Edward said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carlisle replied.

"Agreed," Edward nodded.

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | viii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 5.5K Warnings: fluff, mentions of infidelity

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“You’ll need extensive physical therapy,” Dr. Jang said, flipping through his chart the day Mingi was to be discharged. 

“Walking will be difficult at first. You’ll experience weakness, dizziness, and possibly some coordination issues.”

Mrs. Song let out a sharp breath, bringing a hand up to her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. Beside her, Mr. Song reached over and placed a firm, reassuring hand on her arm. They had known this was coming, yet hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

“We’ll have to make arrangements,” his mother replied. “Oh, if he’s going to struggle, we can have the physical therapist come to the house.”

“There’s no need,” Mingi rasped, glancing over at you. “Y/N can help me.”

The entire room fell silent.

Dr. Jang stopped mid-page, his eyes flickering up over his glasses. The nurse who had been taking discharge notes blinked so fast it was almost comical. Even Mr. Song, ever composed, arched an eyebrow in surprise.

“W-What? Me?” you stammered, pointing to yourself as if there had been some mistake.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like your help,” Mingi repeated, his voice steadier now, as if the decision had already been made in his mind. There was something almost… gentle in the way he looked at you.

You stared at him in disbelief. Mingi, the man who never wanted anything to do with you, was asking for your help? 

“Mingi, are you sure?”

Mrs. Song was still staring at him like he had grown a second head. “But you always—” She hesitated, searching for the right words. 

“You’ve never liked being…helped. You always insist on doing things yourself.”

Mingi exhaled, leaning back against the pillows, his fingers twitching slightly against the blanket. “I know,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, almost contemplative. 

“But things are different now.”

And for some reason, the way he said it made it feel like he wasn’t just talking about his injury.

You pulled up to the entrance, cutting the engine before stepping out to grab Mingi’s crutches from the backseat. By now, the visits were becoming routine, but each time, it still struck you as surreal.

You turned to him, holding out the crutches. “Do you need anything else? I can grab a wheelchair if you want.”

Mingi shook his head. “No thanks, I’ve got it.”

Then, to your complete and utter bewilderment, he smiled—small, unguarded, but warm in a way you’d never quite seen before. The sight of it sent a strange flutter through your chest, something unfamiliar yet not entirely unwelcome.

Before you could process it, his hand brushed against your arm, a brief touch that sent a gentle warmth trailing in its wake. His fingers lingered just long enough to make you wonder if it was intentional before he gave your arm a light squeeze—as if he were telling you he’d see you soon.

It was fleeting, gone too soon, but the feeling remained, leaving you gripping the car door handle as if it were the only thing keeping you steady.

Mingi had never smiled at you before. 

The whole drive home, you were lost in thought, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Confused didn’t even begin to cover it. Lately, everything about Mingi had been confusing.

At first, you thought you were imagining it. But then it became impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at you now—like he was seeing you for the first time, rather than through you. It was how he acted. How he hovered. 

He followed you around the penthouse like a puppy. If you turned around too quickly, he was there, standing just a few feet away. If you rounded a corner, you nearly crashed into him. It was like he was always waiting for something. 

Waiting for you.

You could almost see it—the imaginary puppy ears perking up, the wagging tail swishing behind him, hoping you’d notice that he was there. 

And as if that weren’t strange enough, he’d also become…talkative. Well, in his own way. Mingi had started initiating conversations with you through animal facts, seemingly random tidbits of knowledge he’d been holding in until they just slipped out. 

“Did you know that vampire bats share their food with other vampire bats?”

“What?” You blinked at him, holding your fork mid bite. 

“They, um…they regurgitate blood for bats that didn’t eat.” His voice was quiet and uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if this was something you’d want to hear but hoped you might find it interesting.

You blinked at him, trying to decide if this was some kind of weird joke. But there was no teasing in his expression—just an earnest kind of hopefulness, like he wanted you to acknowledge his effort.

Like he wanted you to know he was trying.

“Oh…” You let out a small laugh, tilting your head at him. “Are you telling me I don’t eat enough?”

Mingi’s ears tinged pink as he gave a small, sheepish nod. 

“Kind of…” he admitted, shifting awkwardly. 

“I noticed that sometimes you skip meals when you’re busy or stressed.” His voice dropped slightly, almost as if he was embarrassed to say it aloud. 

“It’s not good for you.”

Another instance, you were humming to yourself as you sorted through the laundry, tossing a few shirts into the washing machine. The penthouse was quiet, save for the whir of the dryer running in the background. You reached for the basket when—

“Did you know that wombats poop in cubes?”

You yelped, throwing your laundry into the air as you spun around. Mingi stood just a few feet away, wide-eyed, his hands hovering awkwardly in front of him like he wasn’t sure whether to help or apologize.

“Mingi!” you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, shifting on his feet. “The sugar cubes you put in your tea reminded me of wombat poop for some reason.”

You shook your head as you stepped into the lift back to the penthouse. You weren’t sure how you felt about your husband’s newfound attitude. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful—Mingi had finally woken up, and that should have been enough. 

The moment you kicked off your shoes in the foyer, Mrs. Ha, the chef, scurried over, her eyes darting between you and the hallway like she was still in the habit of speaking cautiously.  

“Oh, Ms. Y/N!” she whispered urgently, clutching her apron. “How was he?”

You let out a sharp exhale, still trying to make sense of it yourself. “Weird,” you hissed, picking up your pace to match hers as you both hurried toward the kitchen.

“He smiled at me. And—” You hesitated for a second before lowering your voice. “He squeezed my arm.”

Mrs. Ha gasped so dramatically you thought she might faint. “No.” She shook her head as if refusing to believe it.

“I know,” you muttered, half-joking, but not really. “He used to pretend I didn't exist. Now he’s…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

Warm? Inviting? Considerate?

It felt strange to say out loud, but stranger still that it might actually be true.

Mrs. Ha grabbed your wrist as if trying to steady herself, or maybe you. “Ms. Y/N,” she said gravely, “do you think he hit his head too hard?”

You swallowed, the thought lingering in your mind longer than it should. Mingi’s accident had been severe. He’d been unconscious for months and it was a miracle he woke up at all. 

And yet, this wasn’t just waking up. This was different. The Mingi you knew had been cold, distant, cruel even. He never touched you unless absolutely necessary, never smiled at you unless it was laced with sarcasm or condescension. But today?

Today, he’d looked at you like he actually saw you.

Could head trauma really alter someone’s personality that drastically? Had the accident shaken something loose inside him?

“Can you believe he asked me about plants?” Yohan scoffed, handing you a cup of tea as you stepped into the kitchen.

“Mingi and plants.” He shook his head in disbelief, leaning against the counter. “I can’t believe he’s actually considering keeping something alive besides himself.”

You snorted, though the humor was short-lived. The shift in Mingi’s behavior was too drastic, too unnatural. You took a sip of your tea, the warmth doing little to ease the uncertainty. This new Mingi was too good to be true, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mingi’s kindness, his warmth—it didn’t make sense. Not when he had spent so long resenting you.

“This morning, he casually mentioned that zebras can’t sleep alone,” you murmured, tapping your fingers against the cup. 

“Well he said he’s looking forward to dinner!” Mrs. Ha interjected. 

“Three months ago, he barely spoke to anyone, including Y/N and now he’s making conversation?” Yohan shook his head, placing a hand on his hip. 

“This is suspicious.”

No one wanted to say it out loud, but you all felt the same way. Mingi’s recovery wasn’t just physical. He was changing, bit by bit. And for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t for the worse.

⋆

“Your grip strength is starting to improve, as well as the mobility on your left side. Soon, you won’t need the crutches anymore,” Dr. Lim noted encouragingly.

Mingi exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself. The session had been brutal, as they always were, but hearing that he was making progress gave him a small sense of victory.

“That’s it for today. We’ll see you next week.” The physical therapist gave him a nod of approval before turning away, already moving on to his next patient.

Mingi nodded, gripping his crutches tightly as he made his way toward the exit. Every movement still felt like an uphill battle. He had spent the last two months relearning how to move, how to function without feeling like his own body was working against him. The physical therapy sessions were grueling, pushing him to his limits, but he refused to back down.

The accident had nearly killed him. Three broken ribs, a fractured femur, and nerve damage. Though it wasn’t extensive, it was enough to remind him that no matter how much he pushed, there were still limits. 

And he hated that.

He hated the way his body trembled when he overexerted himself, the way his right arm sometimes felt too weak to grip things properly. He hated that he still struggled to get up without support, that simple tasks took twice the effort they used to. 

But he didn’t hate the way you anticipated his struggles before he could voice them. The way you reached for his arm before he could stumble, or placed things in a way that made it easier for him to access. And he didn’t hate how easily you entertained his ramblings, even when they were about the most mundane things.

For an hour and a half each week, he hated being away from you.

Because no matter how frustrating the setbacks were, no matter how exhausting the battle of recovery became, seeing you at the end of each session reminded him of his purpose and his promise to Hongjoong and Wooyoung. 

The thought of going home had him biting back a grin as he adjusted his crutches and made his way out of the rehabilitation center. He was already looking forward to sliding into the passenger seat beside you, exaggerating the difficulty of his new balance exercises and guessing what Mrs. Ha had whipped up today.

The anticipation carried him forward until it came to a screeching halt.

The moment he stepped into the rotunda, his fingers instinctively tightened around the crutches, his body going rigid. The hospital lobby was a blur of white coats and murmured conversations, but all he could focus on was the figure standing in front of him.

Ahri.

Her arms were crossed, her manicured nails tapping impatiently against her sleeve. She looked annoyed with her lips pressed into a thin line as her sharp gaze raked over him. 

The sight of her made something curdle in his stomach—something sharp, bitter, and unwelcome.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked flatly.

Ahri scoffed, stepping closer. “Are you seriously asking me that? You’ve been avoiding me ever since you woke up.”

“Maybe that should tell you something,” he muttered, but he already knew Ahri wouldn’t take the hint.

Ahri rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mingi. Don’t act like this. We need to talk.”

“No,” he said simply, his grip tightening around the crutches until his knuckles turned white. 

“We really don’t.”

“You’re being dramatic. I was worried about you—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, his voice low, firm. 

Ahri’s mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, she looked uncertain, like she hadn’t expected him to be this direct. Her expression faltered for a split second, But then, just as quickly, she recovered, her lips curling into a sneer.

“So that’s how it is?” she scoffed. “You wake up and suddenly forget about us? Is it because you want to play house with her?”

Mingi’s jaw tensed but his silence spoke volumes.

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied quietly. 

That made her pause. Just for a second. But then she shook her head, scoffing again like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh, give me a break,” she snapped. “You spent so long telling me how miserable you were, how you were trapped with her.” She let out a bitter laugh. 

“But now what? You wake up from a coma and suddenly, she’s the one you want? You told me you wished you’d never married her, that you never loved her.” 

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to something softer, something almost pleading as if she could still reach him. 

“Mingi, you told me I was the only thing that made you happy.”

And maybe, once, he had believed that.

Maybe, once, he had convinced himself that Ahri was the answer, the escape he craved, the proof that he was still alive, still capable of feeling something. But standing here now, after dying and coming back, after losing everything and being given a second chance, he saw it for what it truly was.

A mistake. A desperate attempt to outrun his own self-destruction.

But you—you had always been real. And this time, he wasn’t going to run.

This time, he was going to love you the way he should have all along.

“You weren’t,” he said steadily. “You never were.”

Ahri’s face twisted, something wounded flickering across her features before it morphed into anger. 

“Bullshit! If that were true, then why did you keep coming back to me?”

"You were there when it was easy, Ahri. When it was fun. But when I was lying in that hospital bed, barely clinging to life, you were nowhere to be found."

Ahri’s lips parted, but no words came out.

“And you know what? I don’t blame you,” Mingi said, tilting his head. 

“Because we were never real, were we? We were just two selfish people feeding off each other’s worst impulses.” He exhaled sharply, as if the weight of it all was finally lifting off his chest. 

“I don’t owe you anything.”

People turned, pausing in their tracks, stealing glances at the commotion, but Mingi could care less. Instead, he stepped past her without another glance, heading toward the one person who mattered—

You.

"You think you can just walk away from me?" Ahri's voice rose, sharp and unhinged. 

Mingi didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. 

And that set her off. 

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

Her lips curled, a smirk. "You think a self-respecting woman like Choi Y/N would want you?" She let out a breathless, almost manic laugh, her eyes glinting with something unhinged. 

"Especially when you fucked me on your wedding night!"

A murmur rippled through the gathering crowd. Gasps. A sharp intake of breath. Someone muttering under their breath. But Ahri was past caring. Her hands trembled at her sides, whether from rage or something deeper, something uglier, even she wasn’t sure.

“You threw her away like she was nothing. And now, you think you can just have her?”

Ahri let out a broken laugh, something desperate and wild. 

"She’s stronger than you ever gave her credit for." Ahri’s voice turned quiet, almost pitying.

“She doesn’t need you."

Mingi’s breath hitched, and for the first time since this entire confrontation began, doubt slithered in, coiling tight around his chest.

Because what if Ahri was right?

What if you never forgave him? What if everything he had done, all the cruel words, all the neglect, had built a wall so high between you that he’d never be able to climb over it?

He remembered the way you had looked at him when he was just a clumsy, oversized puppy, tail wagging, tongue lolling, no words to defend himself—only his actions. And still, still, you had cared for him. Fed him. Sheltered him. Loved him, even when you hadn’t known it was him.

Mingi clenched his jaw. He could fix this.

Because if he had been capable of love then, stripped of his pride and his excuses, then he was capable of love now. And he would prove it to you. No matter what it took.

He would not lose you.

"Ms. Jeong," a voice said smoothly, "I suggest you leave before you embarrass yourself any further."

Mingi tensed. He didn’t need to turn to know what he’d see—that infuriatingly calm expression, always so composed, so sure with his stupid face and stupid hair.

Seonghwa.

The hospital director's voice was calm, but the authority behind it was unmistakable. He stepped into Ahri’s path, yet the weight of his presence alone was enough to send a chill through the air.

Ahri whirled on him. "Stay out of this, Park Seonghwa!" she snapped. "This has nothing to do with you!"

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "You’re causing a disturbance in my hospital. That makes it my problem."

Her chest rose and fell with sharp, angry breaths, but Seonghwa remained unfazed.

"You’re humiliating yourself. If you don’t leave, I’ll have security escort you out."

Ahri’s lips parted, her eyes darting between Seonghwa and Mingi, as if searching for an opening—one last attempt to regain control of the situation. But Mingi had already turned his back, walking toward the exit. Toward you.

And you—you had just barely managed to keep your knees from buckling.

You had been standing just around the corner, heart in your throat, ears ringing with every word that had left Mingi’s mouth.

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

You didn’t have an answer for that. Not yet.

But Mingi, your husband, the same man who once treated your marriage like a prison sentence—was choosing you.

Your phone chimed, interrupting your conversation with Yohan and Mrs. Ha.

Pick up Mingi.

“Has it already been an hour and a half?” Yohan sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Mrs. Ha chuckled as she wiped her hands on her apron, already turning back to the half-prepped vegetables on the counter. 

“Time flies when you’re talking shit, I guess,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone.

Conversations like these had once been a source of relief, a safe space where you, Yohan, and Mrs. Ha could freely air out your frustrations about Mingi and his insufferable attitude. It had been cathartic, a necessary way to bond over shared grievances, particularly in the way he ignored Yohan’s presence, dismissed Mrs. Ha’s kindness, and, worst of all, the way he had treated you.

The usual satisfaction of venting was absent, replaced instead by something heavier. 

Guilt.

You weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered now, softer, searching, as if trying to memorize every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. Like he was looking for something—hoping for something.

Or maybe it was the way he hesitated before speaking, as if he wanted to be understood but didn’t know how. As if he was afraid that one wrong step would send him tumbling right back into the version of himself you had every reason to despise.

And that’s what made your chest ache.

You sighed, grabbing your keys from the counter and with a quick farewell to Yohan and Mrs. Ha, you made your way down to the garage. The drive to the hospital was quiet, the high rises casting fleeting shadows as you navigated the city streets.

Your mind wandered. Mingi was still a mess of contradictions—still the person who had hurt you more than anyone else ever had. And yet, in the past two months, something had shifted. He’d been different.

You weren’t sure what that meant for you, if it meant anything at all.

Pulling into the hospital lot, you glanced at the time. You were early. With minutes to spare, you found yourself hesitating, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You could just wait here, let Mingi find his way out like always. 

But today, something in you wavered.

Maybe, just this once, you’d meet him halfway.

Sighing, you turned off the engine and walked into the hospital. The automatic doors parted soundlessly as you entered, the sterile scent of antiseptic and faint traces of coffee from the café wrapping around you. 

You weaved through the familiar hallways toward the rehabilitation center, past patients in wheelchairs and staff exchanging clipped instructions.

And then—

"You think you can just walk away from me?"

You stopped.

Ahri.

Her voice carried through the clinic, too loud, too reckless for a public space, but she didn’t seem to care.

A few steps ahead, just past a row of columns, Mingi stood—partially obscured, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. Ahri stood in front of him, heaving with anger, her expression twisted into something between fury and despair.

Your instincts told you to walk away before you were pulled into something you weren’t meant to witness. But your feet wouldn’t move. Instead, you ducked behind the corner, pressing yourself against the wall, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

You sucked in a breath. That stopped Mingi and Ahri knew it. You peeked out just enough to catch the smirk curling at the edges of her lips and the cruel glint in her eyes.

"You think a self-respecting woman like Choi Y/N would want you? You fucked me on your wedding night!"

The words slammed into you, knocking the air from your lungs. You had known what you were getting into when your parents arranged your marriage to Mingi. You had no illusions about love or loyalty, not when his heart had already belonged to someone else. You had told yourself his affair with Ahri didn’t matter, that you weren’t some naive child clinging to false hope.

But hearing the words now, so bluntly and irrevocably, felt different. It was like an old wound you thought had scarred over, threatening to tear open all over again.

A murmur of voices rippled through the onlookers—gasps, hushed whispers, stolen glances exchanged in uneasy silence. Mingi remained frozen, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful, his fists curling and uncurling around his crutches.

Your fingers curled into your sleeves, nails pressing crescent marks into your skin. The way Mingi stood there, facing Ahri’s wrath without backing down, without crumbling the way you might have expected, made your chest tighten.

For the first time in your marriage, Mingi was choosing you.

The realization sent a flutter through you, foreign and unwelcome and you had to keep your knees from buckling beneath you. 

This wasn’t forgiveness.

But it was something.

Swallowing hard, you spun on your heel and hurried back to your car. By the time you reached the door, your hands fumbled slightly, a little shaky as you slid inside and shut yourself away from the world.  

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the strange, fluttery feeling in your chest to go away. But it lingered, stubborn and insistent, curling around the edges of your thoughts. Ahri’s words still echoed in your mind, but even louder—more impossible to ignore—was the quiet whisper of, What if?

What if Mingi really was choosing you?

Not out of obligation. Not because there was no one else left. But because he wanted to.

A breathy laugh escaped you, more out of disbelief than amusement. 

“What do you think, Maro?”

The name slipped out before you could stop it, but it felt natural, like Maro was still here, curled up beside you, tail wagging, waiting for you to spill your heart out. 

You swallowed, gripping the steering wheel as if it could ground you. 

“It’s stupid, right?” Your voice was tentative as you leaned your head against the headrest. 

“It doesn’t change anything. Just because he—” You stopped, shook your head, trying to chase away the warmth threatening to creep in.

“It doesn’t mean I should believe in something that’s never been real.”

You could imagine Maro pressing his head into your palm like he understood everything you couldn’t say. Like he was telling you that you didn’t have to figure it all out alone.

“God, I don’t even know what's happening anymore.”

A sudden, sharp knock against the window jolted you upright. Your heart lurched into your throat as you turned, only to find Mingi standing just outside, giving you a small wave. Your face burned. Huffing, you fumbled for the lock with clumsy fingers before scrambling out of the car. 

“I got it,” Mingi said with a chuckle, adjusting his grip on his crutches. His voice was light, but his gaze lingered on you, studying you with an expression softer than you were used to.

“You okay?”

You forced a small smile, brushing imaginary dust off your sleeves in an attempt to steady yourself. “Yeah, just tired.”

Mingi didn’t look convinced. He lingered for a second longer, his eyes searching yours as if debating whether to press further. But he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, nodded, and slid into the passenger seat.

The drive home passed in a blur. The streetlights stretched long across the pavement, casting soft, flickering patterns against the windshield, but you were lost in the whirlwind of thoughts brewing in your mind.

Did he really love you?

⋆

"Y/N…can you call my phone? I can’t seem to find it."

Mingi had been more flustered than usual lately—not that he wanted to admit. The accident had left him disoriented, but it was unlike him to be clumsy. But lately, he kept doing things that frustrated him to no end like pushing against a pull door and standing there and now, misplacing his phone for the third time this week. 

He was also never one to ask for help—especially from you.

Before the accident, he had gone out of his way to keep his distance. He had made it clear he wanted nothing from you, and you had gotten the message. Eventually, you stopped offering. And for a while, that’s what he thought he wanted.

Now, he couldn’t stand the thought of it.

If you were in the kitchen, he was suddenly rummaging through the cabinets for a snack he didn’t actually want. If you were on the couch, he was sitting on the opposite end, scrolling through his phone but not really paying attention to it. 

And if you got up to leave the room? Well…so did he.

Because he wasn’t afraid of being clingy. Not with you. Not when the thought of you leaving, of not having you here, was far scarier than anything else.

You nodded, pressing the call button as Mingi shuffled past you, disappearing into his room. Your gaze lingered on the doorway long after he was gone.

For the duration of your marriage, you had never once stepped foot inside this room. The door had always remained shut, a silent boundary he had drawn long before he ever knew you. A reminder that no matter what legal document bound you together, there would always be parts of him you would never reach.

But as you took a step forward, following the faint sound of his phone vibrating somewhere in the great beyond, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let you glimpse into the parts of himself he had kept locked away.  

You stood hesitantly by the threshold watching your husband rifling through his laundry, digging through pockets, and muttering to himself under his breath. The Mingi you had married would’ve cursed under his breath, thrown something, or blamed someone else for his misplaced phone. 

But this version of him? He simply kept looking, patient and persistent.

His room was dimly lit with the faint scent of paint and cologne filling the space. Canvases leaned against the walls, some vibrant and abstract, others more detailed and unfinished sketches scattered across his desk.  

Your gaze landed on a small canvas resting on the edge of his desk. The soft eyes and the cheeky glint, the little nose, and that signature smile. It wasn’t finished, but there was no mistaking it.

Maro.

“There it is,” Mingi muttered, plucking his phone from the ground next to his bed.

As he swiped the screen to end the call, his gaze flickered toward you, then followed yours to the canvas on his desk. He watched you carefully, half-expecting sadness, maybe even confusion. But instead there was something unexpectedly tender. 

And then you looked at him, and Mingi felt it.

Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he had done something right for once. Like you saw him in a way that made his heart squeeze. His ears burned. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I… picked up painting,” he admitted. “My physical therapist said it’d help with motor skills and strengthening my hands and fingers.” 

He swallowed. “I hope you don’t mind that I painted Maro. I… I wasn’t sure if I got the eyes right,” he admitted, almost shyly. 

You stepped closer, drawn in by the familiar shape on the canvas. “It looks just like him,” you murmured, reaching out to trace the dried brushstrokes with your fingertips. The texture of the paint, the careful detail—Mingi had poured himself into this.

Mingi let out a sigh of relief but then, as if realizing something, tensed again a second later. “I—uh, it was supposed to be a surprise,” he blurted out, his eyes widening slightly, as if he’d just realized his mistake.

You blinked up at him. “A surprise?”

“For you,” he admitted, shifting awkwardly. His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. 

“I wanted to give it to you when I felt like it was perfect. But, um… I guess I kind of ruined that, huh?” He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“You painted this for me?”

He peeked at you through his lashes, leaving something softer and more vulnerable in its place as he gave you a small nod.

“I just… I know how much you loved—love Maro, and I thought maybe… you’d want something to keep. Something I made for you.”

Something only for you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Oh. Your heart squeezed at the sincerity in his voice and the way he’d poured so much of himself into a piece just for you was overwhelming. 

“Oh, Mingi…” you breathed.

Emotion swelled in your chest, thick and impossible to name. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stare at him—the quiet hope in his eyes, the way he watched you like he wasn’t sure what you’d do next.

“I love it,” you said, and you meant it. Not just the painting, but the thought behind it. It was just a painting. But it wasn’t. It was a piece of him—his effort, his sincerity, his quiet way of saying what he couldn’t put into words.

“Thank you.”

The words felt small, insufficient for the weight of what he had given you. But then he smiled—a slow, relieved, utterly radiant smile that knocked the breath from your lungs.

And suddenly, the moment stretched—too long, too precarious.

Your eyes flickered around the room, a sharp awareness settling over you. Mingi’s room. When did he get so close? When did you even come in here?

“I should…” You cleared your throat, glancing toward the door. “I should let you get back to painting.”

Before he could say anything, you turned, slipping out of the room, closing the door gently behind you. For a moment, you leaned against it, trying to steady the sudden pounding in your chest. But before you could make sense of anything—

The door creaked open.

“Wait.”

You turned, as Mingi poked his head out. There was a hint of bashfulness in the way his fingers gripped the doorframe, but his eyes held no hesitation.

“…You can leave it open.”

<< vii | ix >>

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[kazumist]

A LITTLE MORE THAN YOU REALIZE .ᐟ

✩ — the temptation to indulge yourself in selfishness curses you and caleb. from the day he graduated to the day he returned back alive—it never leaves. greediness is a sin. yet neither of you care, as you love one another in greed.

✩ — includes: caleb x f!mc!reader. fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. childhood friends to strangers (not literally) to yearners to lovers (i love their pipeline bro). wc: 14,670. yes, 14 fucking THOUSAND i went feral over him !!!!

✩ — cw: THIS FIC IS A REIMAGINE, MEANING IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THE FOLLOWING - stage observer, exclusive aftertaste, endless summer, lucid dream (myth), hidden waves, homecoming wings (both 1 & 2) and the events that happen in this fic is HEAVILY based from these memories mentioned (i put my own twist into it !!!). caleb is CRAAAZY like how he usually is. :3 mentions a bit of violence and food. a biiiit suggestive but i honestly think it's not that bad. this fic is semi-proofread, meaning there still could be some minor errors that i might have overlooked.

FIRST: GRADUATION SURPRISES (WAIT FOR ME TO COME BACK).

The familiar sounds of rustling papers and flipping through the pages of dusty books echoed in Caleb’s bedroom. As you flip through another book, inspecting whether it should go to the “stay with Gran” or “go with Caleb” pile in the room, an envelope with a pattern of apples slips out and lands on your lap.

Is this a love letter? You wondered, grabbing it and flipping it around to check the details. But the thing is—Caleb doesn’t accept love letters. Yet this one is kept in a book as if Caleb were using it as a bookmark. You huff at the thought—he doesn’t even use the lucky charm I made him back then, even though I worked really hard on that.

Checking around Caleb’s desk, you confirm that there’s nothing as feminine as the envelope in your hand.

Could it be from someone that he likes?

That thought alone made your stomach churn. You didn’t even hear the door opening until you felt a suddenly cold feeling against your cheek. It was Caleb, lightly pressing a soda against your face. “Got that tired, pipsqueak?” He asks, opening the can of soda before handing it to you again.

The soft pop! of the can opening reminded you that Caleb didn’t know about the envelope, so you hid it from him and took the soda from his hand. “How thoughtful of you to open the can for me. Bet you captured a lot of hearts with that attitude, huh?” You told him before taking a sip. 

You were looking at his back when you were drinking, watching him fix the suitcase that’s currently open on his bed. When you lower the drink and put it on the table, Caleb stops and gives you a strange look. “I’m pretty sure there wasn’t anything mixed in that soda I gave you. Are you okay up there?” He replies.

“Hey! Rude much?” You furrowed your brows at him but that quickly went away as you suddenly felt his hand pinching your cheek. “Owww! shtop it!” The words that come out of your moment aren’t really that coherent. “Then stop talking nonsense.”

Caleb never keeps secrets from me—why is that envelope an exception?

-

When the day of Caleb’s graduation approached, he leaned down toward you as you helped him fix his tie. 

“You know, these past few days I’ve been reflecting,” you told him. He teasingly raised an eyebrow at you for a moment. “That’s new. What were you reflecting on?” He asks. “Now that you’re graduating... Well, I just thought that I didn’t need to know everything, Caleb. However, if you ever meet someone more important than me, then you absolutely have to tell me.” avoiding his gaze, you loosened your grip on his tie, but you didn’t let go. You could faintly feel the rhythm of his steady heartbeat against your hands.

“Who could be more important?”

“... I don’t know. You ask yourself that question.” You take a deep breath. “You’ll definitely meet a lot of new people soon. New allies, new friends, maybe even...” Maybe even a girlfriend. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. “What? You mean a girlfriend?” Sometimes you despise how Caleb could easily read you like a book.

Your silence was the only answer he needed. “I won't get a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Caleb, you’re the last one we’re waiting for. The commencement speeches are about to be given,” his classmate says from behind him. Yet Caleb doesn’t move an inch, keeping his gaze focused on you. He doesn’t seem to care about the commencement speeches, almost approaching the scheduled program, and is only concerned about you.

“I won't get a girlfriend,” he repeats, emphasizing himself this time. “You and Gran are enough for me. I don't really have the energy to care about other people. So you don’t have to worry, I won't." You let go of his tie and he pulls away and stands up straight. Before he takes his leave, he doesn’t forget to ruffle your hair, which you slap his hand away for. He lets out a small laugh at your reaction. “Gotta go now. Wait for me to come back.”

As soon as Caleb started his speech, he seemed unreachable to you. Like he was so far—out of your arm’s length unlike before—but maybe it was about time that your arm got sore. Will he not get a girlfriend? You couldn’t help but think. “My speech would’ve ended here, but before I went onstage, someone told me something strange. It had to do with what’s “important”.”

You didn’t have to be a genius to know that he was referring to you. Your eyes met Caleb’s despite the large crowd that’s watching him right now. He flashed you a small smile and continued. “She said that after graduation, I would meet more people and experience new things. Maybe I'd meet someone who is more “important” than her.

But I believe that it ultimately comes down to choice. People only yearn for the future because they haven’t encountered someone they truly cherish. I consider myself lucky. I already have someone very important to me, someone who I can't live without.

I wish everybody could have this luck. Thank you, and happy graduation.” The audience applauds for him, some even whistling (his batchmates, perhaps) yet Caleb holds his gaze at you. Neither of you broke eye contact for a long moment. As the most anticipated moment of tossing their graduation caps in the air occurred; Caleb took it as his cue to leave the stage and join the crowd below him. The crowd becomes bigger, and you find it difficult to navigate yourself through it.

Nearby, you see Caleb push through the midst of the crowd. He seems anxious as if he were searching for someone. “Caleb!” You called out to him. He looks in your direction; the crowd seems to have lessened, and you make a run for him. “Hey, be careful! You—” You interrupt Caleb by throwing your arms around him.

Standing on your tiptoes, you gently pull his face down and press a kiss to his cheek before he could even react. Caleb’s eyes widen at your actions, his brain running a million thoughts as seconds pass by. The soft feeling of your lips pressing against his cheek is something he could never forget in his life.

A selfish act on your part—a shocking one to Caleb.

“Congratulations on getting through college! There’s your gift—you can’t find a girlfriend now, Caleb!” You say, sticking out your tongue at him before handing him a bouquet that you prepared beforehand.

“Actually… when you were packing, I stumbled upon this love letter that’s in an envelope with some apples decorated on it. I'm not forgiving you for keeping it a secret for me but I'll let it slide just this once because your speech was good.” You then reached out to take Caleb’s cap from his head, wearing it on your head instead.

But Caleb stays unusually quiet. His ears are red and he swears they’re probably burning even more as you two bask in the sunlight. “...Caleb? Are you okay there?” You ask him, waving a hand in front of him to get his attention. Your hand then tries to reach out to his ear but Caleb grabs your wrist before you can do so.

He gently lowers your hand, leans down, and covers his face with his other hand right after. “Caleb?” You move closer to him but he flicks your forehead just as you did so. “Ouch! Hey!”

“This... love letter you’ve mentioned. It was tucked in my copy of flight detector mechanics, right? And it was in an envelope with an apple pattern on it,” he then says. “I think so. You remember it well, huh?” You don’t know why that disturbed you a bit.

Caleb pinches your cheek again and you repeatedly slap his arm to make him stop. He doesn’t. “Silly girl. That’s the lucky charm you gave me for my exams. The original envelope got ink on it so I replaced it with a new one.”

Oh.

“So... it wasn't... a love letter? Like at all?”

Embarrassment courses through your veins. What the actual fuck? You thought. But before you could think about it even more, Caleb’s hand sneaked around your waist and pulled you to stand beside him. You two are suddenly faced by what seems like a photojournalist for the academy’s newspaper.

As the photojournalist was finding the right focus for the picture, Caleb leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. And I don't plan on doing so anytime soon.”

SECOND: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME. NOT LIKE THIS.

The explosion pushes you back, sending a ringing sound through your ears. You slowly opened your eyes, your vision slightly covered in all of the dust floating around. But once your vision clears, your eyes widen in shock at the sight before you. 

The home that you and Caleb once grew up in is now burning in flames. Gran is still in there; oh my god, Caleb—Caleb just went in a few moments ago. Mustering up all your strength, you push yourself up, hissing at the sudden pain you feel in your ankle. I probably twisted it when the explosion happened, shit. But you didn’t let that stop you. 

You limped towards the burning house in front of you but suddenly you felt someone pulling you back. You looked at who it was and saw that the firefighters had just arrived and were now preparing to put the flames away. “Ma’am, it’s not safe to go near the scene. Please stand back.”

The firefighter’s grip on you was tight. Struggling to break from his grip, you replied. “No, I—I can't. Gran is still in there, please—he's still in there. I have to save them, I—” Panic took over you as you noticed that there were now firefighters who were holding water hoses and putting the fire away.

“There are firefighters right now going inside to check on them; we need to ask you to stay put as the flames are still being put out.”

Still feeling dazed from the explosion, your head throbs. You stumbled in your steps, feeling your knees getting weaker. The firefighter who was holding you back caught you before you fell to your knees and you couldn’t do anything. You just follow his lead in bringing you to an ambulance stationed a few steps away.

A year then passes after that incident. You still remember the day the city hall sent you a text and confirmed Gran and Caleb’s deaths, asking you to pick up their death certificates as soon as you can. You still get nightmares from that day. It was all so… sudden. One moment you were just walking with Caleb, and the moment he stepped inside, everything was gone in a blink of an eye. 

How could you possibly move on from experiencing something so heartbreaking?

THIRD: JUST HOW CRUEL AND UNFAIR CAN YOU BE?

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. And I don't plan on doing so anytime soon.”

Caleb’s words during his graduation from the Aerospace Academy suddenly echo in your head as soon as the restraints on your wrists release you from the chair. Looking back now, just how ironic was it for him to say that?

“Surprised? I'm sure that it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?” He chuckles, reaching a hand to ruffle your hair just like he did before. You slapped his hand away from your head—you had no idea what was happening right now. He had been terrifying just moments ago, and now he was acting like nothing had happened.

Acting as if he hadn’t left you alone a year ago.

“You—Caleb, you’re dead! I had to fucking watch you die in that explosion!” You hadn’t intended to raise your voice. But with Caleb’s sudden reappearance in your life, how else were you supposed to feel? 

Caleb’s expression had amusement written all over it. “If I were dead, then who would be standing in front of you right now?” He asks as if he was teasing you.

And that pissed you off even more. You stood up to stand in front of him, and when Caleb reached out to you yet again, you slapped his hand away. Frantically, your eyes scanned him—his lips, his cheeks, his hair, his eyes—you couldn’t believe it. Could it be that he really evaded death back then? 

“C'mon, pipsqueak, don’t be like that.” The second you heard pipsqueak roll off of his tongue, it almost made you nauseous. He attempts to get closer to you again, and this time you let him, as you are still trying to process it all. Instead of ruffling your hair, he gently patted your head this time. as if he was trying to soothe you.

It would’ve worked—it should’ve worked. Caleb always knew how to soothe you when you were in pain. He always knew how to ease it. But you never would’ve thought that one day he would be the one causing it.

How can he ease the pain like he did before when he’s the one who caused it this time?

“I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” He whispers low as one hand cradles your cheek and the other pulls you slightly closer by the waist. You didn’t know what to say; your mind was blank. All you could do was stare into his eyes, hoping that he would be able to read you just like he did before.

"You... you left me.” You managed to whisper back somehow. “I—I still don’t understand. How are you so fine with this? Did you just fucking think that I'd be ecstatic to see you? Is that the reaction you were expecting, Caleb?” You burst, pulling yourself away from him but Caleb’s grip on you was tight. 

“Let go of me!” You yelled, punching his chest as you struggled. The overwhelming weight of everything that had happened took over, tears prickling and blurring your vision—perhaps it was rage, perhaps it was grief—you didn’t know. “I didn't leave you, pipsqueak.” he then says.

Liar.

Caleb never lied to you. He never broke a promise either. Yet why does it all feel void now? “You did,” you hissed at him. “How could you be so—cruel, Caleb? Leaving me in the dark like this, I could've helped you! How can you be so fucking unfair?”

“How could you be so... so selfish?”

You finally broke free from his grip and took a step back but Caleb’s reflexes were quick as he grabbed ahold of your arm immediately.

The loud sound of your palm hitting his cheek echoed in the interrogation room. He let his head face the side for a moment; you didn’t know what to expect. You could feel Caleb’s grip on your arm tightening painfully. But he just pulls you closer again and you just glare at him this time.

Caleb then leaned into your ear. “I didn't leave you,” he repeats, his voice weaker this time. He sounded so… vulnerable.

You held back a sob at that, letting a few tears escape as they rolled down your cheeks. Caleb pulls back, returning his hand to gently caress your cheek. You felt the cold feeling of rubber from his gloves as he was wiping away your tears. “It’s okay. Let it out. I'm here now.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you cried against the fabric of his uniform. Caleb lets you, wrapping one arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your head. The sound of your sobs wrecked him.

“I thought you were dead.” You felt Caleb press a soft kiss in your hair as soon as he heard you. “It’s okay, I'm back,” he replies. 

“And I'll always be by your side. I promise.”

FOURTH: THOUGHT THAT I KNEW, NOW I DON’T HAVE A CLUE. WHO ARE YOU?

When the wound on your knee reopened, Caleb gently set you on the couch and started to tend to your knee. You could see his eyes soften as he did so. “The injured cat you brought home—do you recall it? To prevent it from escaping without making noise, I attached a collar with a bell.”

You could feel your patience running thin by the second. “I don't want to hear it,” but with the help of Caleb’s evol, you couldn’t move your knee an inch. He leans closer to you, and his voice lowers itself by an octave. “Maybe I should put a collar around your neck too, to keep you from running away, hm?”

“Is this how you’re going to protect me? I just need to glue myself by your side at all times?”

“I know that it sounds a bit unfair, but...” Caleb grabbed a bracelet and wrapped it around your wrist. It quickly assessed your vital signs. Caleb clicks his tongue in annoyance at the results. “But because of that monster, your wounds are infected.” He then grabs ahold of your wrist, tugging it closer to him.

“Is there a way for you to run around without getting injured?” You scoff at him. “I've had enough of your protection, Caleb.”

The man kneeling in front of you was then sent into deep thought after you said those words. He lets out a deep breath before speaking up again. “If being with me brings you this much pain, then just endure three more days.” He immediately gets up but you ask him before he can take his leave. “What are you going to do?”

“...Tie up loose ends. I just need three days, and all of this will be over.”

-

Three days later, the news flashing on the television suddenly announced that the lockdown in Skyhaven had been lifted. You automatically knew who was behind this. “The fleet will return to the deepspace tunnel after all of this. You’ll be safe for now,” Caleb then says, turning off the television as soon as you get the news.

The sounds of raindrops against the window and thunder were all you could hear now. “So technically, in other terms, you’re just going to leave again and not utter a word about it.” That wasn’t a question. Caleb doesn’t reply; instead, he grabs your wrist again. “Let’s have one last meal together before I leave."

You pulled yourself away from his grip. “So what? Now I have to listen to the colonel’s orders even when it comes to having my meals?” You walked over to the couch, taking a seat there instead. Caleb follows and sits in front of you with an apple in his hand. “You can be mad, but you shouldn’t neglect your health.” 

“I'm not mad.”

“Growing up, we knew each other so well. Better than anyone, even. I could see through your lies when you blink. When you bit your lip, I knew you were upset over something.” His voice was soft and filled with reminiscence. “If that’s the case, what am I thinking about now?” A challenge aimed at him.

You could sense a brewing change in Caleb. It’s like the image you had of him during your childhood up until before he became the fleet’s colonel was slowly drowning away from you. “I wonder, how could you turn into someone I could hardly even recognize?” Your question had a hint of hurt in it.

“You think I have some chip implanted inside of me, right? And now, to you, I'm no longer who I was supposed to be.” The possibility of a chip being implanted inside of him sends a chill down your spine. What if he did have a chip inside of him? Caleb’s hand then reaches out to your cheek before you can form another thought about it. “What if I told you I was always like this?”

Caleb's face becomes stern. "The people who want to hurt you should just disappear. You’re only safe when you’re with me," you shake your head in a display of defiance. "I don’t want to live like this, Caleb! I don’t need you—"

The air between them is electric as he takes a step closer. Your back is pressed against the couch as Caleb’s figure towers over you. Fear had started to grow inside of you by this point. He then asks in a hushed, almost beseeching voice, "You don’t need me? Is that what you think?" He let himself fall closer, balancing by stretching out his arm on your right side.

“Fine then, tell me. What do you want?” You struggled to break your wrist free from his grip. “Let me go!” He doesn’t—he ignores. “We can return to Linkon if that’s what you wish. If you want to go back to the past, then I'll rebuild our old house, and we can move in together. If one house isn’t enough, I'll build you a whole maze. I'll decorate it with everything you want, and it’ll be the most beautiful garden; no one will ever find you.”

“I'll protect you forever.”

You let out a shaky sigh at his words. This was not the Caleb you knew from before. This was a different Caleb—and the painful part of everything about this? You thought you knew Caleb. After all, he said so himself. Growing up, you two knew each other so well. But why is it now that the man who is currently restraining you on the couch of his home seems so distant and unfamiliar from the Caleb you knew? 

“Caleb… you can’t just—” you pause, licking your lips as you thought of the right words to say. “Look, you’re very important to me, and no one could ever replace you.”

“Really now?” His voice was laced with doubt. “I've been choking and enduring day after day for years, holding myself back. However, now... I've had enough of those games.”

Who are you?

- 

“Remember this, okay? From now on, I'll always be by your side. It’s okay. I'll always be there for you, and I won't hurt you.” 

The far childhood memory appeared in your dreams last night. It almost feels like deja vu was occurring to you with irony in it as well. Guess you forgot all the things that you told me. So much for saying all of that when we were 12. you thought.

When a sudden gust of wind hit you, you snapped back into reality. “It feels like every time we say goodbye, I'm always sending you off,” you told him. Caleb is about to reach out his hand (to ruffle your hair again? perhaps), but he stops himself. He lowers his hand instead and replies. “I guess it won’t be a painful experience this time.”

“All right. I'll be going now.” You shift your gaze to the ground as a lump forms in your throat when Caleb bids his farewell. “Actually, wait.” You raise your head to look at him. “can you... promise me something?” He feels selfish for even having the guts to ask for such a thing from you.

Does he deserve to ask that?

Caleb honestly thinks he’s unworthy.

“Promise me that you’ll eat on time and look after yourself,” he says. “Okay,” you softly let out. 

“I promise.”

As you were on the way home, you and Tara caught up for a short moment. but the call ends abruptly due to Tara’s boss calling so suddenly. Putting back your phone in your pocket, you felt something strange inside of it. You pull it out to get a better look at it. A kid's handwriting was evident with the vibrant colors of crayons used to write it. 

Forgiveness coupon for Caleb. Valid for 100 years.

A sudden wave of sadness crashed inside of you as you could feel tears prickling your eyes again. “Oh my god. Caleb, you dummy... ” You find yourself laughing pathetically at the piece of paper in your hand as tears slowly slide down your face. 

And this is the moment you decide that you don’t want to lose Caleb for a second time.

FIFTH: HE WAS AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY YOU LOST HIM. 

While visiting the grocery store that you and Caleb used to visit a lot after school as teens, a wave of nostalgia hits you. The owner is getting ready to shut it down, which bummed you out, but you offered to assist with the cleanup.

Your mind wanders to Caleb as soon as you hear the sound of airplanes overhead. Entering the garden behind the business, which you and he used to spend time in when they were teenagers, you recall telling Caleb about the hydrangeas there. Because the hydrangeas bloomed for so long, Caleb had explained that it was named Endless Summer.

A shelf becomes unbalanced close by, and as you try to put it back where it belongs, Caleb's arm comes up behind you to stabilize it. 

You haven’t seen Caleb or even talked to him after you parted ways in Skyhaven. He sometimes sent you short texts but as soon as you were about to respond to them, he vanished into thin air each time.

It was awkward, to say the least.

While you were trapped between him and the shelf, he leaned in. "Even if there were three of you, this place wouldn't be cleaned up in time," he says. You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. So instead, your eyes look anywhere else except his eyes—he was wearing more casual clothes today and he had a luggage bag next to him. “What are you doing here?” You ask, changing the topic.

“Business trip. I also just happen to be passing by,” he says, putting his arm back to his side. You move away instantly at the given distance. You give Caleb another once-over, suddenly getting reminded of the times he’d come home for summer break with how he looked.

It’s like he’ll be leaving again so soon.

“When are you returning to Skyhaven?” you ask again. You have asked Caleb this question multiple times. But it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it leaves your lips. And the Caleb standing in front of you... isn’t who he used to be. Caleb feigns hurt at your question, “I just got back, and you’re already asking when I’m leaving?”

“That’s not what I…” Caleb raises his hand a bit, and you notice. But he lowers it again. Why? What was he about to do? “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t live in this neighborhood. So what brings you here?”

“Would you believe it if I said I was also passing by? I found out the owner was closing the store down and I thought I would help.” Caleb chuckles at that and glances at the shelf nearby. He makes a jab at your height. And when you snark a reply back at him, he raises his hand again, going for your hair—yet, he pauses.

His hand stays in the air for a quick second before he reaches out to grab a book from the top shelf to play it off. “You still need help to tidy this place up, right? I’ll lend a hand.”

“And I’ll be heading back to Skyhaven tomorrow morning.” Oh.

“All right then.”

There was some sort of tension in the air as you and Caleb faced away from each other. You both made yourselves busy with your own things within the store. 

You hated feeling awkward with Caleb. It was never supposed to be awkward with him. Yet with what has happened recently, perhaps change was bound to happen. However, were you even ready to accept change in the first place?

No clue.

-

You both head to the garden after the cleaning is complete. No one has been caring for the flowers, but they haven't altered much from what you can remember of them. The area has been taken over by leaves and vines—Caleb leaves to find the hose.

Your phone vibrated when he left; you checked it and saw that Tara had left you a voice message. Clicking the play button to listen to it, you heard Tara’s voice immediately. “Hey! There’s a new shooting range open in Azure Square. Do you wanna go for some rounds later? You know, for fun?” Before you could give a decline to her offer, Caleb comes back with the hose.

“Did something happen?” he asks. “Oh, a colleague just asked me if I wanted to hang out in Azure Square later.”

“If you wanna go, then I’ll be heading back to Skyhaven. I’ll drop you off at Azure Square since it’s on the way.”

You paused when you heard him. Why is he assuming that I’ll accept Tara’s offer? I was planning on declining in the first place. “There's no need,” you tell him. He looks away, shifting his gaze to the hydrangeas in front of you both. “Would it be... inconvenient if your colleague met me?”

Grabbing the hose from him, you faced it at him and quickly turned on the water. It splashes onto Caleb’s chin and he flinches at the sudden contact. You watch as the water droplets slide down his neck and soak the neckline of his muscle shirt. They soon reach the necklace hanging around his neck. Was Caleb’s neck always so…detailed? You wondered. 

Snap out of it.

You shot him a glare. “Caleb, I never said I was leaving in the first place.” Oh.

Before the awkward tension could return, you speak up again. “Aren’t you gonna water the plants?” The water hose is off as you offer it to Caleb. He kneels down to water the hydrangeas but when he glances at you, his gaze visibly softens. “Okay, you can stop glaring at me now. How about you water the plants this time?”

-

The familiar sound of a phone camera shuttering makes you glance at Caleb. “Huh? Did you take a picture of the white hydrangea?” He looks away, avoiding your gaze since he got caught. The picture, where the said white hydrangea is nearby the edge of it, has most of its focus on you.

“I rarely see things like these in Skyhaven. Even in my dreams, I could hear gunshots and blaring alarms.”

I also dream of you. a lot—perhaps even more after you left Skyhaven. Our last interaction before we parted troubles me in my sleep. Did you hate me for that? I hope you didn’t. I pray that you don’t—because I don’t know what I would do if you did hate me.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Someone calls out from inside the store. “That must be a customer. I’ll go take a look,” you told him. He nodded as you left the garden area.

-

When you return, you see Caleb napping. You liked it when Caleb slept, for he was so beautiful yet so unaware of it as he did so. (He was as beautiful as the day you lost him back then—but is it truly the same person from all those years ago before you?) 

He had a book resting on his abdomen but his brows were furrowed and he kept stirring in his sleep. His breathing slowly started to become heavy and you couldn’t help but feel so helpless at him. “You can’t even relax in your dreams, Caleb? ” you asked. 

He groans in response, and a hand reaches out to soothe him by his forehead. He groans even more, brows furrowing themselves even more. Your hand then moves down to his cheek and your thumb rubs against his under eyes. Caleb then grabs your wrist even though his eyes are still closed. “Don’t go…”

His eyes slowly flutter open but they stay half-lidded. “Don’t leave me alone.” Caleb leans in (whether it was to hug you or kiss you, you honestly can’t figure it out)—everything is happening so quickly, but you lightly push him away to wake him out of his senses. “Caleb…?” you softly call out to him.

“...Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Suddenly, you felt something sting your eye. You rubbed it with your knuckles, trying to get it out. “It's okay. I just got something in my eye.” You then feel Caleb’s hands grab yours, gently pulling it away from your eye. “Let me see.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”You asked him. A bitter smile tugs at him as he flicks his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. “Don’t blink, okay?”He softly asks instead. He avoided the question.

Both of his palms feel cool as he gently grabs your face. Your eyes didn’t leave his at all when he blew your eye. The short distance has your heart hammering in your chest; your faces are only inches apart; one small nudge is all it takes and—what were you even thinking?

That would never happen. Not with Caleb. 

His other hand places itself on top of yours. His hands had always been bigger than yours—and without even looking at it, you could feel Caleb’s palm take over yours. An electric feeling when your fingers brushed against the heel of his palm. With one last rub of his thumb across your cheek, Caleb pulls away.

He pulls away as if he were restraining himself.

“Don’t move,” you say as you move closer to his face so you can softly blow a petal from his hair. "You know, the scent of endless summers can bring people sweet dreams for a whole night." He catches the petal in his hand and laughs. As you stand to leave, Caleb grabs your hand before you can get far.

"But... there aren’t any endless summers in Skyhaven.”

Skyhaven doesn’t have you. 

SIXTH: LIKE SOME KIND OF MAGNET, YOU’RE A MYSTIC FORCE. 

You don’t know if you’re hallucinating or what.

“Caleb? You didn’t message that you’d be visiting Linkon again,” you say. “I thought you’d be busy.” And just like the last time you saw each other, Caleb encounters you again as you were lending a hand to help someone. This time it was an old lady who had lost her bracelet and you helped her look for it.

When you returned the bracelet to her (Caleb trailing behind), you decided to ask. “Ma’am, this bracelet looks quite unique. Have you worn this for a long time?” The old lady in the wheelchair lets out a relaxed sigh. “Yes, someone special gave it to me back in the day. I never had the heart to throw it away.”

“Was it from a friend or a lover?”

“Let’s just say... a friend who never became a lover. If I were braver, perhaps it could have happened. When you reach my age, regret will be your biggest fear.” The elderly lady soon bids her farewell but she doesn’t leave without asking Caleb a question. “Young man, you got here quite early. Why did you just stand so far and watch her?”

“I—” The old lady then takes her leave. Caleb finds the right words to say as I look at him. “Well, I’ll get going now,” he says, embarrassment laced in his tone. “Leaving so soon? You haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Correction: I did one thing—I saw you.” As he turns to walk away, you ask him. “It’s getting late; are there still any trains boarding for Skyhaven? ” Caleb doesn’t turn around. “I can catch the last one.” His insistence to leave stung a bit. “Do you want to count how many words you’ve said to me so far?” That’s where he stops.

“We can’t keep doing this forever, Caleb.”

He felt so close yet so far. And whatever is going on between the two of you now has to stop. Because you don’t think either of you could keep this push-and-pull method up. In one second, you’d be close—and in a blink of an eye, you’d be meters apart. It’s enough to make you spiral. He sighs, still not facing you. “I'm just afraid that... It might make you uncomfortable.” That I might make you uncomfortable. 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay, dummy.” Caleb finally turns around; his eyes had an unfamiliar look in them, one that’s full of hope (maybe a mix of yearning too). “Do you want me to stay?” He softly asks.

“If you leave for Skyhaven now, you’ll get home past midnight. You can stay at my place for the night.”

-

“Pepper, please,” Caleb says as he works beside you in your kitchen. You turn to him with the ground pepper on a dish when all of a sudden Caleb sneezes. You laugh at him as he regains himself. “It still makes you sneeze, huh?” 

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” You gave him a dramatic gasp. “I did not! Don't slander your sous chef." 

“I remember when you tried to cook for the first time. I kept hearing your sneezes from the living room.” Caleb chuckles at the memory. “You were kinder back then, offering me tissues, checking up on me. Wonder where that version of you went?” You grab a few tissues from the counter and try to help him wipe his face clean.

But Caleb grabs the tissues from you instead. “I got it,” he says, stepping back and putting some distance between you two. Suddenly, you remember what the old lady said earlier.

“You got here quite early. Why did you just stand so far and watch her?”

He was ready to leave after seeing me, even just for a few minutes. Is he avoiding me?

You don’t want Caleb to avoid you. That’s one of the last things you wanted. It gives you a different type of hurt when Caleb pulls himself from being close to you—especially when you’re used to everything but being far from him. You’re scared of a rift forming between the two of you. What if the worst comes to worst and you...

You don’t want to finish that thought.

Caleb seems to know what’s going on inside your head with your silence hanging in the air. “That's why I don't want to stay,” he suddenly says. “I can’t stand seeing you between a rock and a hard place.”

“...but I don’t feel that way at all.” You move towards your phone to play the playlist Caleb shared with you back then. “You liked these songs, right? ” You gave him a smile. He just nods in return. “Wash your hands; dinner’s ready.” Distant.

That’s what Caleb feels right now—distant. 

And that makes your stomach churn.

-

As you and Caleb ate dinner, your phone started ringing—another voicemail. But from whom? Caleb takes a glance at your lit screen and seems to have noticed the sender’s ID. “Which friend is that? I don’t recall you mentioning him.” You don’t know what tone he’s using for that but he seems suspicious, if anything. “Hey, I heard you encountered a self-aware wanderer earlier today. Don’t forget to tell me about it when you’re free, okay?” the voice of your colleague said.

You flip your phone, not wanting to reply right now but Caleb notices it (of course he did). “Wouldn’t your friend be upset if you don’t reply to him right away? …Are you two close?” Caleb asks. You still don’t have a clue what he’s insinuating with his questions. But he looks quite bothered as his brows are slightly furrowed and his lips are pursed.

“Caleb, that’s a colleague.” You open your phone to show Caleb the proof. “See for yourself.” But Caleb doesn’t even bother looking and slides your phone back to you. “The food is getting cold; we should continue eating.”

The food tasted bland to your senses due to the unexplainable feelings brewing inside of you.

-

“Do you remember what the old lady said earlier?” Caleb asks. Taking a sip from the apple soda in your hand, you sat next to him on the couch. “I saw you were busy with evacuating people, so I didn’t really want to get in the way.”

“but the crowd was gone by two and I saw you at four. So... you arrived earlier than the lady mentioned.” Why didn’t you say so? you wanted to ask. “I guess we don’t have that many topics for small talk now.”

“Yeah. Excuses and lies, however, have seemed to increase. Don't you think? ” Caleb avoids your gaze. “People regret things they didn’t do. But sometimes, they also regret the things they did.” Caleb stays silent before replying. “People are full of contradictions,” he says.

“For a long, long time, I have known what I want.” You. He almost says it right after.

“But what if it causes you pain? If you don’t get any response, would you still go on?”

“Do you really think I haven’t struggled?” Perhaps he was mocking himself or he was mocking your question; you couldn’t point it out. It was your turn to be silent. “I’m well aware of what I’m doing,” Caleb then says.

“What about you? Are you aware?”

Despite sitting close to him, you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. But you could feel Caleb’s gaze burning holes into you.

The rest of the night felt endless to you.

-

As the morning came, Caleb was nowhere to be found.

The blanket that you gave him to use last night lies neatly folded on the side of the couch, and that was the only trace left of his presence. “caleb…?” you call out.

You can’t leave me, not like this. You can’t just leave me without saying goodbye again.

The sudden knock on the door echoed in your apartment. You ran to the door hoping that it was Caleb—and just to your luck, it is. “I knew you’d be up around this hour.” You scan all over his face. There was sweat trickling near his brow and he had a towel wrapped around his neck. “I... I thought you left.”

“I was planning to. But then I remembered that I hadn’t made your breakfast yet so here I am again.”

“Oh… really?”

“Not really.”

What?

Caleb makes his way to your kitchen without another word. You stood blankly by your doorway as you let him in. His demeanor ever since you two reunited again has strangely changed. “What do you want to eat? I’ll do the cooking,” he asks. You snapped out of your thoughts and closed the door. 

“Anything, as long as you make it.”

-

“Did you have trouble sleeping last night?” you asked him while you were in the kitchen.

“I didn’t. I find it hard to sleep when I’m tossing and turning. But I'm used to it,” he replies, washing his hands before grabbing two eggs to crack. the sounds of the kitchen being used mixed with his voice that’s a bit raspy. “Have you never lost sleep over someone before?” Caleb suddenly asked back.

Wait. He says he was used to it… has he always been like this? He was met with silence as you were deep in thought. “Silence is always the best answer; perhaps that’s a no.” You still didn’t utter a word.

Caleb then cracks two eggs in a bowl. “Why aren’t you asking questions now, just like before?” He then grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started mixing them together. “Why didn’t you ask me who kept me up all night?”

“...I don’t want you to have so much on your mind whenever you’re with me.” What does that mean? I’m just spewing nonsense. “You say that as if I don’t want to end this sooner.” The toaster then pops the toasted bread out and you reach towards the cupboard to grab a plate. You set one down and as you were reaching for another one, Caleb’s hand meets yours and holds in place on the cupboard’s handle.

The cupboard shuts closed as he speaks. “Were you... avoiding my question? Were you afraid that I’d say it was you? Or were you scared that I’d say... It wasn’t you?” He says it slowly, emphasizing himself in his questions. “Shouldn’t you be making breakfast? Focus,” you told him, removing your hand from the cupboard above and starting to move away.

But Caleb placed his hand in your way, refusing to let you go. “Are you going to help me or not?” You turn around and now you’re properly facing him with your back against the counter behind you.

He grabs something from your back and reads it out loud. “Soda recipe: 1.5 ounces of apple syrup. Caleb’s favorite type.” He smirked at you as he read it. “So you did learn to make it for me after all. I never hear you say you miss me; do I take this as a sign that you do?” He flips the small piece of paper to show you.

“...whatever makes you happy, I guess.” You push him away by the shoulder and start making your exit from the kitchen. Caleb grabs your wrist before you could leave. He pulls you a bit closer to him, his other hand reaching to cradle your face. “You didn’t sleep that well either last night, did you?” He takes a step forward; you take a step back. It repeats until your back hits a dead end. Crap.

How ironic that you didn’t like how Caleb was running away from you yesterday yet now you’re the one running away from him? Just like a mystic force—a magnet, to be exact—Caleb keeps pulling you in. Again and again and again.

“For whom?”

“For…”

“No rush. Take your time to come up with a reason.” He places your hand on his chest and grabs for an apple from behind you. “but right now... If delicious things aren’t eaten in time, they become stale.”

Time. 

It was always about time, wasn’t it? It makes you wonder if you and Caleb had enough time. You once thought that time ran out for you both once—but now that he’s back... What exactly were you supposed to expect? supposed to do?

Do you indulge in your selfishness and give in to temptation?

Or do you pull away from it?

Caleb nears the apple to your face; you use your other hand to pull it closer but Caleb pulls himself along with it and now the distance between you is even shorter than it was before. You could feel his hand brushing against your hair above your shoulder, holding himself steady as he leans in.

He lowers his hand to hold yours, as you’re the only one holding the apple now. Caleb leans in further and just as your lips were about to touch—

He leans down and bites the apple in your hand instead.

-

The interaction you had with Caleb in your kitchen made you realize that you started looking forward to Caleb’s sudden visits to Lincoln without even realizing it.

“I’m well aware of what I’m doing.” 

“What about you? Are you aware?"

You suddenly get it now.

When you accompany Caleb to the station, you don’t easily leave him alone. It was like when he was in college all over again when you’d follow him because you were afraid he’d get lost (but if you both knew that you were more prone to losing your way sometimes). 

The spare key in your pocket had started to grow warm with how much you fiddled with it. “When will you be visiting Linkon again?” Caleb stays silent at that. “Does your silence mean you don’t want to visit anytime soon...?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you haven’t even thought of seeing me again, then all those things you said... aren’t really important.” Caleb steps closer and leans down a bit to your eye level. “Look, pipsqueak, I’m not the type to hold back when I like something.” He was right; you knew that fact very well. Caleb sighs before standing up straight again.

“Why would I want to leave when, compared to you, I’m better off acting as if I don’t care?” he says. You lift the spare key from your pocket, hearing the familiar sounds of metal hitting against each other as it shook from the movement. You grabbed Caleb’s hand and laid the warm keys on his palm. 

“Then find a way to come back home.”

His breath hitched at your words.

“You don’t need an excuse to see me, Caleb. You know I’d always welcome you home with open arms.”

He puts the keys in his pocket with a smile before grabbing your shoulders and turning you around. “You should go back now. Let me watch you leave,” he says. You attempted to turn your head back at him in protest but he teasingly used his index finger to stop you. 

“Don’t look back. If you do, it’ll just be harder for me to leave you here.”

SEVENTH: CAN YOU CARRY A LITTLE OF THIS SIN TOO?

The blinding beams of sunlight shone upon you, stirring you awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were currently in a familiar bedroom, and the other side of the bed was empty when you woke up. While your head was slightly pounding, you also had no recollection of what happened the previous night.

You suddenly hear the door creaking open. Shooting a glance at who it could be, you saw a man dressed in some sort of military uniform taking strides towards you. “Huh..?” you say, voice still groggy after just waking up. He puts a hand on your forehead, seemingly checking your temperature. “Your fever’s gone down. Just have some more rest.”

He pulls back slightly, but the distance between you two is still close. “I asked the association if you could take a sick leave. So, whether you want to rest here at home or maybe go outside for a quick walk for the next few days, I’ll be here to keep you company.”

You look at him, confused by what’s happening at the moment. “What are you… talking about? Is this some sort of dream? ” you asked him. The man was taken aback for a bit, but he regains his composure immediately. Sunlight continues to bleed through the window, gently hitting his face. yet his expression...

His expression still seemed like he was getting absorbed by something dark.

“It's okay—it’s okay if you forget,” he says, shifting his gaze on the ground. “Even if you don’t remember anything... I can always say it again.” The man then sits on the bed as you feel the sudden dip in the mattress from his weight. He then gently grabs her hand, rubbing soothing circles across her knuckles while shifting his gaze back to you.

The man thinks for a moment. He doesn’t know which is more agonizing—to forget or to be forgotten?

“I'm Caleb. I’ll always be...” Before you could comprehend the rest of his words, your head started ringing. You reach out to rub your temple as your mind starts to suddenly feel sluggish. it’s as if… something that you should know—or rather, something you shouldn’t forget—was being kept away from you.

What happened?

-

10 days ago.

The announcement through the train station regarding the arrival of the train to Skyhaven echoes as you drag your luggage and take your exit. Looking around, you decided to take a quick picture of a fast food restaurant you saw and send it to Caleb.

(name): [attachment: one image] (name): Guess where I am right now? :P 

Caleb: You’re in Skyhaven?

You turned off your phone and decided to take in your surroundings. It had been two months since you last came to Skyhaven—and the last time you went here was when you secretly infiltrated the farspace fleet to investigate the whereabouts of a fragment of an aether core. 

It had been two months since you saw Caleb again, alive in the flesh.

Entering Caleb’s home from Skyhaven, Caleb speaks. “We can talk about the work stuff later. You should cancel your hotel reservation first. and then...” His voice trails off as he looks like he was considering something.

Caleb then spreads out his arms at you. “And then… what?” You tilt your head in confusion. “You know what I mean.” A smile paints itself on your lips as soon as you realize what he meant. Walking closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face against his chest.

“I missed you, Caleb.”

“Welcome home.” 

-

The air is suddenly filled with a sound—something flies by. Caleb uses his evol to stop a bullet in front of his forehead as a mist blocks her view.

"Get under cover!” Realizing he’s the target, you urged him. He stopped you as you reached for your revolver and attempted to drag him to safety. Caleb simply said, "There's no point in hiding," after glancing at his palm. This is only the initial action.

He notices that the true target is somewhere else—this had been a diversion—as officers recover control of the situation. He looks toward the alpha and beta fleet bases, his hand clenched. Caleb asks that you remain behind and is about to call Liam for assistance when you stop him. “I'm your best option; you can't trust anyone else, Caleb."

Caleb pauses. "They have taken over one of the bases. I have dispatched individuals to the alpha base. Please check the beta base for me.” For a minute, your eyes meet. He nods after he pauses. "Liam will accompany you."

"Please be careful," he tells you.

“You too,” she answers.

Yet doubt seems to have clouded your mind and you find yourself asking Caleb before you left. "Caleb, you really need me for this, right?" he answers with a simple "yes."

It was pouring tonight.

As the takeover turns out to be a hoax, you could observe now that you realized Caleb made you leave to protect you. Why does it feel like we’re back to square one? More than a dozen planes pierce the night sky as they race across it.

"Are those reinforcements for Caleb?" you asked Liam, Caleb’s adjutant.

"Making you leave was for the best," Liam replies. When you realized that he knew everything, you felt nauseous and angry that Caleb forced you to leave. "The colonel can only put his trust in you, but your presence would influence his choices. Please don't hold this against him," Liam adds.

Despite your desire, you were unable to hold it against him. Caleb was just being overprotective. “Liam, you’re Caleb’s adjutant. Do you trust him?” you couldn’t help but ask. “I don’t need the colonel’s trust. I only need his orders.”

“So if he orders you to leave your loved ones, you’d do it?”

“That's precisely why I can stand by his side and serve him.”

You almost scoff at his answer. “If the chip were placed inside of me, how would Caleb react? "You then ask Liam. “He would do anything to get rid of it, but you don’t have to put yourself through the pain,” Liam responds.

As Liam bid his farewell with a salute and started to make his way back, you were now alone. You don’t get it. Why does it feel like nothing actually changed? Like all your efforts from getting close to him before were a waste? You just wanted to help him. You could fight—you’re a hunter for fuck’s sake! 

But every time you were dispatched into Skyhaven, you felt so useless at your job.

The toring chip you stole from Caleb’s office is still hidden in your shoe with the implanter. With one simple press, the remaining distance between you and Caleb would be gone. “You don’t have to put yourself through the pain.” Liam’s words echo in your head. Maybe it’s a bit too late for you to say that, Liam. Because I have already made my decision.

Perhaps to love is to share the pain with them, even if they push you away.

-

The implantation was swift. You felt weak as you sat on the bench. Imagining Caleb’s reaction if he ever found out what you just did sends a nasty chill down your spine. This will be your secret to bear alone. If Caleb had his own secrets from you, then you would have yours. After all, that’s only fair, isn’t it?

“I have never kept a secret from you, not even once. and I don’t plan on doing so anytime soon.”

Just how ironic do his words get even more? He made an unspoken promise of never keeping a secret from you. But ever since you two reunited in Skyhaven… that’s all that he’s been doing.

You then hear footsteps pattering against the rain puddles on the ground, and the rain above you stops. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere; why didn’t you go back home? ” Caleb heard softly asks you. You look up to him. “Liam shouldn’t have left you alone in the street.”

“I walked here by myself. It has nothing to do with him.” Caleb was always good at finding you whenever you played hide and seek. and you would always go home together after playing. but this time... You don’t want to go back to the place he called “home” with him. 

You point out the Asiatic apple trees to him, eyes admiring the slowly falling petals dragged by the rain. Caleb then recalls the Asiatic apple trees he’d see back in the train station in Linkon (they were always in bloom whenever you sent him off). “I didn’t know you liked Asiatic apples,” he then says.

“I don’t. because Asiatic apple flowers take you away from me, and I don’t like that.” 

“No one can take me away from you.”

The dead and odorless trees serve as a quiet reflection of Caleb's own personality: aloof, stern, and unrelenting. Caleb softly asks you once more, "Come back home with me." Your voice is tinged with defiance as you look up to face him. “How long will you keep me imprisoned now? "

His voice cracks with a subtle anguish as his eyes drop to the hairpin in her palm. He gently grabs it from you and pins it back on your head. "I'll spend my entire life looking for solutions if each problem drives me farther away from you, but until that final moment, we’ll always be together.”

"What will you do if people come looking for me?" she says.

Caleb doesn’t think twice. “In that case, I’ll hold a funeral they can attend. so they’ll think you’ll be gone forever. “Let’s go back home; you might catch a cold.” He extends his hand towards you, and you accept it. But you refuse to move when he tries to guide you away. Caleb shoots you a deadly and stern look. You pull Caleb down to your level, your lips exactly by his ear.

“Don’t you find it funny that you’re worried about me catching a cold after discussing my fucking funeral? ” you whisper. Caleb pulls back, “So if I don’t show concern, does that mean it’s not genuine? Is that it? ”

a hand reaches up to your face. “You can’t convince yourself to hate me with every fiber of your being. Wouldn’t you agree? ” His hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, pushing you towards his chest. “I’ll eventually find a way to make things right... as long as... you’re by my side.”

“...Caleb, I hate it when you’re like this.” But you know that you could never hate him. Wrapping your arms around him, you whisper in his ear again. “but I hate it more when you’re always able to make me change my mind.”

His breath hitches at that and Caleb lets himself fall weak to his knees. “i’m… sorry. I just feel like... I don’t know how to take care of you anymore.” His voice breaks and you could feel him weaken against your touch. You reached for Caleb’s face, panic rising inside of you. “Caleb? Caleb, what’s wrong? ” His eyes started to become half-lidded and he looked at you in a daze.

Caleb collapses on your shoulder, his hat slowly sliding away from his head. He replies with a groan, and his voice is evidently weaker. “Let’s... go home.” 

Raindrops cascade down his face, and the colonel’s vision fades into black. 

-

You couldn't trust anyone in the fleet, so you exerted all of your strength to get him home. You two collapse into Caleb's bed together, your bodies heavy with fatigue. and your eyes follow the tiny, scarlet veins beneath his skin as you stare at him.

A cold, mechanical voice reverberates around the room. “Warning... Emotional fluctuations have surpassed the threshold limit…” Caleb looks like he’s going through a nightmare, yanking his collar off as he mumbles to himself. “Don’t… take her away…” he pleads. You reassure him that you aren’t going to leave, though you have a faint doubt that it would work.

“Commencing chip activation process... Executing mandatory erasure... of neurons...” the machine’s voice continues. Mandatory erasure? No, no, no, no—Caleb sweats, his body spasming as it fights against something far beyond his control.

With a horrible shock, you understand that this is exactly the same as what Kevi experienced when you last visited him in the garden. You shake and scramble desperately, looking for a button on his body to put an end to the chaos. 

You can’t take him away, not again. Don’t take him away from me. Tears slightly blurred your vision as you searched for a button that might not even exist in the first place. You just wanted his pain to stop.

Caleb suddenly opens his eyes, and you are shoved back onto the bed. “Ow—Caleb! ”

Above your head, he pulls your wrists and presses them on something rigid and cold. yet it feels more like a machine's grip than his hand. “Why are you struggling? ” he asks, his voice laced with confusion. “Are you scared of me? Do I feel like a stranger to you? ”

"Program... complete,” the machine said.

“How could you possibly understand... my guilt and sin...” he whispers. And then he collapses onto you.

You slept next to Caleb for the night but the nightmares about him returned.

-

The morning after he fainted, Caleb was sitting in the living room, staring at something.

Discreetly, you approached him and put your palm to his forehead to feel the warmth of his skin. Your fingers move to his right arm and give it a light squeeze. "Are you feeling better?" you asked. 

He glances up at you. Caleb whispers, "I noticed you lying next to me when I woke up this morning." He's staring at a picture on the coffee table when you spot it. Your heart hurts as you lift it up. It was a picture of you kissing his cheek when he graduated from the Aerospace Academy.

With a gentle touch, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear after brushing it from your temple. “So…” After tracing your jaw and raising your chin, his fingers then lightly touch your cheek. “Who are you?” he asks in a low voice, as if he's looking for something he lost.

Caleb appears to be soulless, his memories erased. He no longer even recognizes himself. He continues speaking, "I remember the way you made me feel," with a hint of emotion in his voice. From under his collar, he retrieves the necklace. He looks at you and says, "I remember you gave me this. Were we... close like this?"

You didn’t know how to answer that.

Your relationship with him couldn’t be described in just simple words. But the thought strikes you like lightning in your mind—Caleb will believe anything you say. Let me be selfish just this once. Let me have this opportunity while it’s presented in front of me.

“You’re the most important person to me, and I’m the most important person to you.”

“Caleb, I’m the only one in this world who truly knows you.” You then continue. He repeats what you said, making it sink into him. “you’ll never leave me.” You can’t leave me. “Just like... the vines that cling to a tree. We shared a part of our lives with each other. So, we’ll never be apart.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. “I'm sorry. I can’t remember anything.”

“It's okay if you can’t remember right now. I’ll always be here for you.” You pull him into a tight hug, your lips near his earlobe. 

“Just like what you’ve always done for me.”

-

Caleb, who is now suffering from amnesia, was a blank page in a book that you thought you could write anything you wanted on (if anyone was going to rewrite him, it’s going to be you, and only you). You kept everything hidden from him—his phone, clothes, communication device—anything that could disturb him from this dream.

Three days later, it appeared that you had both fallen into a dreamy, infantile state. Like when you initially met in the shelter, the world outside these walls held no significance for them.

The amusement bustled with excitement. However, the excitement of the rides quickly made you feel sick. Caleb asked out loud, "Is it safe for you to hunt the deepspace when you're like this?" as he watched you anxiously. Holding the ice cream he had just purchased, he crouched next to you.

“Deepspace hunters don’t actually hunt in deep space,” said you, who was still recuperating. A little perplexed, Caleb questioned again, "So what am I?”

You extended your arm to hook her index finger onto his. A smile tugged across your lips as you answered, "You're the deepspace hunter's sidekick."

Sitting on a train ride offered by the amusement park, your watch vibrated as your eyes started to close shut. It was a reminder that the association needed an update and that your task was due in three days.

Caleb gave you a quick glance while wearing a knowing expression. He taunted, "You took my phone, so I'll take away your watch." Caleb noticed the little shift in your demeanor as your face fell at the idea. “You don’t like the sound of that?"

You only gave a mute shake of your head. “I never knew your hands were so big,” you then say, smoothly changing the topic. Caleb lets you play with his fingers as you rub and tug around them. He takes his as a chance to interlock his fingers with yours. “We’re both grown-ups now, huh?” you then say.

“Yeah. Does that mean we can finally do all the things we used to want to do but couldn’t before? ” He leans closer.

“We couldn’t do? Or do you mean things we wouldn’t dare to do? ” Challenging him, you also lean closer. 

“What if I dare? What would you do?” 

His face is so close. you thought. You could feel the heat rushing through your ears; your head started to throb again. “Prove it.” He feigns hurt in his expression. “I thought everything I did was proof of my sincerity?” 

Caleb proceeds to press his forehead against yours. Your heart hammers against your chest and your hands are still interlocked. Boundaries were being crossed; lines were being blurred out. Your mind becomes hazy with everything that’s happening. and to top it all off—

“I like you,” Caleb whispers.

In this moment, you realize—everything has changed. You’ll be his and he’ll be yours. All you knew since yesterday is that everything has changed.

You see the aircraft from the fleet approaching, and the end of the sweet dream was coming way too quick for your liking. “Caleb, let’s go home.” You urged him—he refused. You try to hop off of the moving train yet with a blink of an eye, Caleb is holding your wrist again. 

“Where did this come from? the chip?” he asks.

No—it can’t be over just yet. please. Let me be selfish for a little while more.

You could see Caleb’s lips moving yet a piercing ring takes over your eardrums, drowning his voice out. “They’re here, Caleb. They—they can’t. They can’t take you... away from me...” Your body feels weaker as pain crashes repeatedly into you in waves.

Everything fades into black after that.

-

You never liked Caleb wearing that fucking uniform. Because every time that he does, he’s like a different person. You don’t recognize the Caleb that wears the colonel’s uniform. 

Yet here he is, standing before you dressed in that goddamn uniform, his expression unreadable. Is he mad? Definitely. Are you going to die tonight? Maybe. Do you mind Caleb being the one who wields the gun at your death? …Not really. If anything, it’s better that you die by his hands.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” He doesn’t answer; you press on further. “When? when we were at the amusement park? Or was it before that?” Was him losing memories even real in the first place?

“I haven’t even asked my questions yet. When did you get that Turing chip implanted?” The unwelcomed yet familiar waves of pain surge through your head; you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming. Caleb removes his glove on one hand and rubs his thumb over your swollen lip. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

His expression remains unreadable. “You should rest. The surgery is being prepared and the pain will be over soon.”

“Caleb... Ever since we reunited, have you been enduring all of this? Why didn’t you tell me?” You didn’t have the strength to use your voice so you could only whisper to him. Caleb replies in a softer voice—it’s as if seeing you like this torments him (it does, and maybe he’ll finally understand why you did it in the first place). “If telling you the truth means watching you willingly get caught up in this mess...”

“Then I never would’ve shown up in your life again.” The glint in his eyes shows desperation.

“I don’t understand... They changed you. They treat you like a pawn and make you do all of those awful deeds. But—but you belong to me! You’re mine—you're the person I cherish the most—how could they do this to you?”

Caleb doesn’t reply to that. He insists that you rest but you broke free from your restraints before he could stop you. You get up and stumble towards the door but your legs can only bring you there as your vision becomes unsteady. Caleb is pulling you away from the door and towards the bed you were restrained on earlier. “Let go of me!” you shout, pulling his hand and biting hard on it.

However, he pulls you into his arms and keeps you there instead of letting go. His voice is firm yet gentle as he carries you back to the bed. “In order to prevent you from biting your tongue when you had a fever when we were kids, I let you bite my hand. Do you remember that? You gave me such a severe bite that the mark lingered for two weeks.” He chuckles at the memory. “I always wanted to settle the score with you when we got older.”

Your expression is determined and keen as you look at him. “This time, I’ll be the one who’s going to settle the score.” You straddle him and push him down without saying anything more. A glint of amusement shines in his eyes at your actions.

“What do you want?”

You lean closer to him, your ear almost resting by his chest. Your fingers trace the edges of his uniform. “I want to peel open your heart to see what secrets are hidden within.” He watches your finger slide down. You then grab his chin and make him look at you. “As the farspace fleet’s colonel, you haven’t been put into a trial like this, have you?”

“A trial? What are you accusing me of?" He plays along. 

“You… You killed my Caleb.” Your voice breaks. You lean in closer, lips being only centimeters apart. But you pull away, tugging and discarding the layers of his uniform instead. “The Caleb in this uniform... I don’t like it…” you say, fighting back the tears from blurring your vision. You wanted Caleb gone in that uniform. You wanted the old Caleb back in your arms.

Just where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was the explosion that triggered everything that has changed. The Caleb that you grew up with, the one that you knew—the one that you loved—feels like a stranger to you. It is only when he’s out of the thick layers of his uniform that you could recognize that maybe—just maybe—this is the Caleb that you love.

Caleb doesn’t stop you from what you’re doing. Instead, he caresses your face, his touch being warm against your cheek. “Good girl,” he whispers. “You should get some sleep now, pipsqueak,” he says a bit louder this time. You gave him a kiss on his forehead and he avoided your gaze right after.

“Look at you; you’re like a sinner who’s confessing.” Caleb holds your hand and presses a soft kiss to your fingertips. Your hands that he had always wanted to hold without reason—perhaps it was his time to become a bit selfish now.

“Then can you carry a little of this sin too? Don’t leave me in this loneliness any longer.”

You feel yourself losing your balance above Caleb. The pain that was throbbing in your head ever since earlier has intensified tenfold, leaving you to go limp.

“It’ll be just like when we were kids. You’ll wake up and you won’t be in any pain or remember any trace of it.”

-

The blinding beams of sunlight shone upon you, stirring you awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were currently in a familiar bedroom and the other side of the bed was empty when you woke up. 

You suddenly hear the door creaking open. Shooting a glance at who it could be, you recognized the man dressed in some sort of military uniform as he takes strides towards you. “Huh..?” You say, voice still groggy after just waking up. You shield your eyes from the glaring sunlight and the dust particles being visible in the air. Caleb raises his hand to do so instead.

Caleb… just what happened to us?

“I asked the association if you could take a sick leave. So, whether you want to rest here at home or maybe go outside for a quick walk for the next few days, I’ll be here to keep you company.”

You look at him, confused by what’s happening at the moment. Your eyes then trail down to a peeking mark below his cuff. “Is that... a bite mark? Caleb, what—what happened? ” you asked him. Caleb hesitates to answer the question. Sunlight continues to bleed through the window, gently hitting his face. yet his expression...

His expression still seemed like he was in sorrow.

“It's okay if you forget. You should eat something first,” he says, grabbing a bowl of porridge after he helps you sit up on the bed. After a few spoons, you didn’t feel like eating anymore. As Caleb rises to put the bowl away, anxiety hits you as you grab his sleeve. “Where are you going?” 

“I'm just putting the bowl away.” Caleb looked like he was about to say something else but refused to do so. “Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere until you fall asleep,” he reassures you.

“Caleb... You’ll always stay by my side, right?” you asked him in return.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You tugged on the collar of his uniform, pulling him into the bed with you as you straddled him. The scene feels familiar to Caleb—almost. Your fingers trail down his neck, tracing his Adam’s apple before pressing gently on the center of his collarbone. “I wonder if I should put a bell around your neck. That way, you won’t be able to escape. What do you think?”

You didn’t forget anything ever since you implanted the toring chip inside of you. You remembered every single story you had to come up with on the spot for Caleb. You remembered Caleb whispering, “I like you,” on the train—how comfortable the breeze was while you were both in the amusement park.

But the amusement park is now closed.

EIGHTH: TO LOVE IS TO INDULGE YOURSELF IN SELFISHNESS.

Caleb rarely gets sick.

You were the sickly type between the two of you—always catching yourself a cold or a fever so easily. And every time you got sick, Caleb was always there beside you. He didn’t hesitate to help Gran back then when it came to making you feel better. He’s the one who usually monitors your temperature; he’s the one who really makes sure that you have taken your medications. You don’t seem to recall that many memories where Caleb gets sick.

But now... you’re here, against the door to his bedroom, helpless at the fact that Caleb is hiding himself from you because he has a fever. You keep knocking on his door, thinking that maybe being persistent would do the trick. “I haven’t finished reading a book and I think I left it there, Caleb.” You lied, still trying to get him to open the door.

Shuffling was then heard from inside and Caleb shoved the book into your chest. “Take it and stop knocking, pip-squeak.” You try to pry yourself into his room with the gap made by him from opening the door but it is no use. But the close distance with Caleb’s body easily helps you in finding out his current state.

“Caleb, you’re burning!” He stops you and takes your hand when you attempt to touch his forehead. “I’ve taken some medication. I’ll be fine, pips.” 

“At least leave the door unlocked; let me take care of you this time.” 

“Have you ever seen me be defeated by something as small as this? I can handle it,” he replies, though his voice sounds raspy as he speaks. “With the state of your voice now, that doesn’t sound very reassuring,” you say back. “Don’t you have other stuff to do? Focus on that.” 

“What? Hey—Caleb!” The door slams shut in front of your face.

Fine then. Let’s see how long you can handle this tough guy act up.

-

You ponder unsuccessfully throughout the afternoon how to persuade him to open the door. But in the end, you chose to prepare a meal for him. It’s the first time he’s stayed home, and you’re taking care of things around the house. You ended up making porridge and knocking on his bedroom door.

“Caleb? I made some porridge. Do you want some?”

No response. 

You then lie, claiming that you got scratched by a stray cat while you left for a quick walk earlier. “I’m pretty sure you said stray cats always welcomed you with open paws. Remember to review your past lies before you tell a new one next time.” You hear him from the door. You knock harder against his door. “If you don’t unlock the door, I swear I’ll pick this goddamn lock.”

OTTO suddenly appears next to you. “Here’s a friendly reminder. When you’re asking for help, you should gently approach them,” the artificial intelligence says. Is that directed at me or is it directed at Caleb? But OTTO is right. Taking a deep breath, you ask Caleb from the other side of his bedroom door again.

“Caleb… what are you afraid of?”

You hear a click as you place the tray on the floor. At last, he opens the door. You immediately head inside his bedroom with the tray of porridge and check on his condition immediately. “I told you, I’m fine,” he then says. His voice sounded a bit better now—but it was still evident that he was sick. “How was I supposed to believe that when you keep locking yourself in here?”

He lets out a chuckle that has self-mockery in it. “How can I keep the tough guy act if I let you see me like this?”

“You should eat this porridge first and then take your medications for your fever after. Where’s your thermometer? Let’s check your temp,” you say, stirring the porridge. “While I’m used to you being bossy, I don’t really feel like playing along today.” You take his temperature anyway. 

39.2 degrees Celsius. It’s still high.

“Your fever is still high. You should—” Caleb then cuts you off. “It was better this morning. I honestly feel like a champ right now.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re a fucking champ for acting tough; I’ll give you that one.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? Do you really want me to answer that question, Caleb?”

He begins recalling all the times he fulfilled his promises to you back in the past. You stop him before he could continue further. “Enough, Caleb. You said you’d never hurt me—you promised me that.”

“Do you feel like everything I do is supposed to hurt you?” he asks.

Not really. “Your inability to believe that I can protect myself hurts me. Your refusal to let me share your burdens with you hurts me. You hurting and letting yourself feel the pain indirectly hurts me too. And lastly, you pushing yourself away—that’s what hurts me the most.” Caleb stays silent at that.

“If you think I’m wrong, then you’re free to correct me, Caleb.” His attention was then on the bowl of porridge placed on your lap, waiting to be taken by him. Caleb doesn’t correct you from your earlier statement.

-

He takes deep breaths as you both stay silent in his bed.

Caleb is someone you can’t be any more familiar with. You’ve known him your life—yet why is it possible that he still feels like a stranger to you sometimes? “Pips, I have to tell you something,” he then says. “I’m listening,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry that I upset you. You were just trying to help and I…” He seems like he couldn’t finish that sentence so you do it for him. “You were scared, right? Scared that I’ll see your weakness.” Your hand lies on top of Caleb’s chest as it heaves up and down. “You wanna see my weakness? Well, now you have.” Caleb’s ears turn red at that. “Are your ears red because of your fever?” You ask, reaching a hand to touch his earlobe. “Let’s go with that.” 

You cup his cheek to check his temperature again. There was something different in Caleb’s gaze—like it was full of admiration. Softness. Love. Your other hand reaches up to cup his other cheek, pulling him forward so you can put your forehead against his.

Flashbacks of when you and Caleb had your foreheads like this flash in your mind. Once while you were nine; once while you were fifteen; once back in the old store you recently helped in. “You’re still not showing me your weakness, Caleb.” you whisper before pulling away. Your soft breath tingles his nose as his breath hitches at your short distance.

He puts a hand against your mouth as he leans back in slowly. But Caleb quickly pulls himself away before anything could happen.

“I never hid anything from you. But you have—in fact, you hid a lot of things from me. Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” How many secrets can you keep? Caleb looks away from your gaze before replying. “I can’t have any weaknesses. Then you’ll feel safe in relying on me.”

“But I don’t want to stand behind you—I want to stand beside you, Caleb.” He smiles at that. He places your hand on his chest. His heartbeat beats out a steady rhythm. “Do you feel it? This is my weakness. She’s here. For a long time, she’s been here.” 

Caleb…

“I’m afraid that if you see me at my lowest, you won’t believe I can always protect you.” He soon admits, his voice a bit quieter than it was earlier. Your eyes trace every feature that it could take in. “A lot of people say the knife that hurts the most isn’t wielded by your enemies. The people closest to you have it. We’re the closest people to each other. We’d never hurt each other.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll hurt you?”

“Do you think that you could hurt me like this?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he cups your cheek, fingers rubbing your cheekbone. “I want you to stay here. Stay with me. Please, spend the next hundred years with me.” He sounds restrained—like he was still holding himself back.

Even in the most vulnerable and precious moments together, Caleb is still holding himself back from it—especially when it could be more. “I…” you trail off.

Maybe to love him is to ignore the boundaries—to give in to the temptation. 

“I love you, Caleb.”

His eyes widen at your confession. He could feel his face and ears burning up again. Caleb’s eyes never leave yours as it drowns itself in your gaze. He looks like he was looking for some proof that it was just a dream—that he’ll just wake up (or perhaps he was waiting for you to take it back). Caleb was speechless.

“I have always loved you. But as we grew older, the love changed. Everything has changed. Our careers, our lives, and our decisions. I held myself back at first, knowing that we might regret it, risking something so sacred between us. But as time went by, I started becoming selfish. I… I just started to indulge myself. And then I started wanting more—but I couldn’t exactly get more now.” You chuckled at that.

“I’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning. But I honestly just can’t keep it to myself anymore. Because I love you, Caleb. I love you so much that maybe, just maybe, if I loved you any less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Caleb doesn’t reply to your confession in words.

He replies in actions.

A hand gently grabs the nape of your neck; you could feel his hand trembling against your skin as he does. His hands feel warm—whether it was due to his fever or not, you have no clue—and his touch is as gentle as it always is whenever he touches you. Slowly pulling you in, it finally happens.

You finally feel what Caleb’s lips are like as they press gently against yours. 

He pulls away, not letting it last any longer. Straddling him in the process so you could be more comfortable, he stares at you in a daze. You pull him in again for another kiss. And another. And then another. The pressure of his lips against yours felt electrifying as your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands found themselves on your waist. There was a slight push and pull going on as your shadows, as reflected by the moonlight, blended into one.

When you finally pull away from Caleb, that’s when he decides to speak. “I… I think about you all the time. I long to see and be close to you. I can hardly sleep because I miss you. There’s this longing I can barely contain, and I fear it’s going to drown me. But perhaps that’s okay—because that would mean I’m drowning in you.”

“I love you too,” he finally says.

To love Caleb is to be selfish.

[gold-onthe-inside]

career day, pt 2

who? single dad!spencer reid x history prof!reader summary: in continuation of career day, pt 1; spencer asks you out for coffee after a conversation in the playground, meets your adorable nephew, and has a much needed heart to heart with maya. content warnings: mention of childbirth complications, r is averse to childbirth, reference to spencer's knee injury word count: 3.3k a/n: again, maya's 12, please forgive her.

They’re all guided to the teacher’s lounge, encouraged to have snacks and coffee while they wait for the school day to end, but Spencer’s not really in the mood for small talk, silently grabbing a cup of coffee while you’re peppered with questions, particularly from parents who want their kids to get into a prestigious college and see you as their way in. Never mind that I went to Caltech and MIT, he thinks sourly, slipping out of the lounge with his coffee.

Spencer takes a moment to himself, leaning against the wall in the hallway just outside the teacher's lounge. He takes a sip of his coffee, trying to drown out the sound of the voices coming from within. The parents' questions echo around in his head, and he can feel himself getting more annoyed with each one. Maybe it's the nerves from his presentation or the fact that you're getting all the attention instead of him, but he finds himself feeling resentful.

Rather than do or say something he can't take back, he just leaves the building. He takes a deep breath as he steps outside, the fresh air helping to clear his head a bit. He walks over towards the empty playground, the swings and slides deserted at this time in the middle of the school day. He sits down on one of the swings, staring off into space, still holding onto his now-cold cup of coffee.

“6th graders can be rough,” he heard you say, your boots crunching over the fall leaves as you joined him, leaning against the poles holding up the swing.

Spencer looks up as you approached, a slight smile on his face. "Yeah, they don't hold back, do they?" he says, taking a sip of his coffee. He glances at you as you lean against the swing set. "You seem to be the more popular one today," he teases, unable to hide the hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah, I've been told I ooze cool aunt energy," you said, chuckling a little.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Must be nice." He takes another sip of his coffee. "I guess I'm just the uncool dad with social anxiety."

"There are more important things than being cool," you said, your voice earnest and he glanced up at you, one of your shoulders shrugging. "Like being a parent who shows up. Who actually takes an interest."

He felt his annoyance melt away a bit as you said that. "I guess being uncool has its perks then," he said with a small smile.

"Yeah, that's what I keep telling my nephew," you said, huffing a little.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, but then something clicked in his head. "Wait, you have a nephew?" he asked, a surprised look on his face. The boy whose shoelaces you’d been tying that morning…

"Yeah, I came for my nephew," you answered, your brow furrowing, placing your hand on your heart unconsciously. "My bad, I should have clarified."

"Well, now I feel like an idiot," Spencer said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just assumed you were here for your kid or something."

"Pretty safe assumption to make," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Though, I expect better from a fancy behavioural analyst."

"I'll try to live up to your expectations next time," Spencer responded sarcastically. But then he turned to you, a question at the tip of his tongue. "You don't have any kids of your own, then?"

"No," you said, shaking your hand, pocketing your hands.

"Any reason why?" Spencer asked curiously. He took another sip of his coffee, studying you intently.

"Um... I guess, I haven't found the right person yet," you said hesitantly. "That and the whole delivery process freaks me out."

Spencer raised an eyebrow at your reply, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Scared of childbirth, huh?" he said, teasing you a bit.

"You know how many women die from childbirth complications every year?" you asked him, raising a brow.

"Actually, the maternal mortality rate in the United States is steadily declining," Spencer replied, not missing a beat. "It's currently around 26 per every 100,000 live births."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You just... had that lined up in your head?"

Spencer chuckled. "No... well, yes... kind of," he said, shrugging casually as if the information weren't already stored in his mind. "I have an eidetic memory, so this kind of statistical information tends to stick."

"Huh," you said, pursing your lips, slightly impressed. "How many live births a year?" you asked him, just to test him really.

Spencer doesn't even hesitate before answering. "It’s currently around 3.7 million per year," he says without any hesitation, taking another sip of his coffee.

"That sounds like way too many," you muttered with a frown.

"On the contrary," Spencer replied, trying to cross one leg over the other on the swing and failing, "it's actually quite reasonable given the population size. In fact, the annual live birth rate has actually dipped a bit in recent years, which could indicate a potential decline in the population growth rate." He took another sip of his coffee, clearly enjoying the chance to talk about statistics.

You looked at him, raising a brow. "Huh."

Spencer couldn't help but notice the slight look of awe on your face. "You sound impressed," he said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he sipped his coffee.

"Don't be smug, it's not an attractive look on you," you said, shaking your head as you smiled, looking away.

"I wouldn’t be so sure," he remarked, smirking where he sat, hiding it with his cup of coffee, and pointing at you as he said, “You kind of have a tell.”

“What? No, I don’t,” you retorted but he shrugged, pursing his lips.

“Hate to break it to you, but that little thing you do when you look away… That’s a tell.”

You huffed, unable to deny it as you shook your head. “You always profile everyone you meet?”

“Not everyone,” he said, sipping his coffee, his hazel eyes never leaving yours.

“So, I’m special, am I?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Would that be so bad?” he countered, watching you shake your head.

“No,” you said quietly, your own gaze latched onto his, the two of you standing alone in the empty playground until the bell rings, signalling that the school day was over. Spencer got up with much effort, trying to ignore your snicker. “You okay, old man?”

“In my defense, I’ve had reconstructive knee surgery, okay?” he retorted, walking with you to the pick-up zone as kids came rushing out of the building.

“Seriously?” you asked, chuckling, walking backwards as you both talked because you were just that cool.

“Seriously.”

“What’d you do, fall off a ladder at the library?” you asked, still teasing.

“No, I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. What was the protocol for telling someone you might potentially ask out that he’d gotten shot on the job? “Just had a bad day at work,” he said lamely, watching your brow furrow.

“Okay,” you said, leaving it at that as your attention drifted to the boy running towards you, the same one with his arm in the cast from this morning. “Hey, slugger,” you greeted him happily, squatting to his level. “How’s the arm?”

“Itchy,” he replied miserably. “Ryan stuck a pencil down there and now I can’t get it out.”

You tsked, pushing his glasses up his nose and smoothing back his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. We’ll get it out, okay? And we’ll get donuts on the way back, alright? Chocolate with sprinkles, just how you like ‘em.”

“Classic,” Spencer mused, nodding. “I like your taste.” The boy frowned as he looked up at Spencer.

“You’re Maya’s dad,” he said plainly and Spencer smiled, tucking hair back behind his ear as he squatted.

“That’s me. You can call me Spencer, though.”

“I’m Benjamin,” he said, holding up his left hand to shake Spencer’s hand. “But everyone calls me Benji.”

Spencer squatted in front of Benji, shaking his hand with a rueful smile. “Got it.”

“I really liked your presentation,” Benji said, his glasses slipping down his nose again and he pushed them up with his left hand. “Ian’s mean to everyone. You should just ignore him. That’s what I do.”

“Sounds like a smart move, Benji,” Spencer said, smiling at him warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“We should get going,” you said, before you could think too hard about how sweet and attractive Spencer was talking to Benji like that.

“Yeah, Maya likes taking her time before coming out,” Spencer said apologetically. “But um… I was hoping I could maybe… I mean, if you’d want to… get coffee or something some time?”

“Yeah, coffee sounds great,” you replied warmly, pulling out your phone from your pocket to exchange numbers with him while Benji shuffled off, distracted by a caterpillar. You punched your number into his cellphone, one that seemed like it was a decade old, but you didn’t say anything, swapping phones again. “I’ll see you around, then, Doc,” you said, smiling at him, and he feels like a lovestruck teenager watching you call Benji back and walk with him to your car.

Spencer had gotten Maya her own cellphone much earlier than most other kids, his own paranoia over being away from her for days at a time ranking higher on the list of concerns than cybersecurity. Worry had always been a familiar friend on his shoulder, gnawing at him, but had grown bigger recently as Maya withdrew from him more often than not. Almost always holed up in her room, in a world he had started to feel locked out of.

He knocked on the door to her room, her nameplate hung on the door in the style of California licence plates, before twisting the knob, ducking his head in. “Hey, monkey,” he said softly, finding her lying on her stomach, on her bed, a dolphin body pillow tucked under her arms, barely looking up at Spencer as he walked in.

“Dad, I don’t need you to tuck me in anymore,” she said, sounding exasperated and he frowned.

“Right,” he said unhappily. “You’re all grown up now.” She only looked up when he sat on the edge of her bed — coral pink bedsheets with soft blue pillows. “I know it’s natural for you to… seek independence and autonomy—”

“Dad, don’t go all profiler on me,” Maya griped, sitting up to look at him, brow furrowed, and he wet his lips.

“I’m not trying to,” he said patiently. “I’m just saying… I’m new to this, okay? Up until this year, I’ve always tucked you in at night, or called to talk about your day… And I get it, you’re older now, you’re in middle school, you don’t want to be treated like a baby. Just… I’m asking for a little time to get used to it, okay?” he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle.

She was silent for some time, picking at the fabric of her pillow, refusing to meet his eyes. At one point she’d been all over him, hanging off his arm for dear life whenever he was at home, climbing into his lap the moment he sat on the couch to watch TV with her. It was hard to accept that she had moved past that phase in her life. “You’re always at work anyway,” she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent, but her gaze remained down-cast, voice a little small.

Spencer's face fell at her words. "Is that why you didn't tell me about Career Day?" he asked softly, his heart breaking a little. "You didn't think I would come?"

“It’s not that,” she said, trying to sound indifferent but failing. She fiddled with the fringe of her pillow, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Looking at him was difficult, because she saw how hurt he was — not over being not asked to join career day, but over her lack of trust in him. “I just know you’re really busy, and you’re rarely home.”

"Monkey, come here, please," he asked gently, needing to hug her before he said anything else to her.

She hesitated for a moment, but then, quietly, she set the dolphin plush down and climbed into his lap, like she used to do when she was younger. Spencer hugged her, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you more than anything in the world, monkey," he whispered. "I will always be here for you when you need me."

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her little hands clenching tighter in the fabric of his sweater, feeling him hug her tight against his chest. “Promise?” she asked, voice small.

"Cross my heart, monkey," he said softly. "And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you at school today."

She gave a soft little huff, pulling back far enough to look at him, her gaze still downcast. “Well, you did embarrass me,” she mumbled, still sounding grumpy. “You were such a dork, Dad,” she said with a huff of faux-exasperation, but cuddled against him once more.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed, burying his nose in her hair as he hugged her.

She was silent for some time, burying her face in his chest, feeling him hug her tight against him, and she could feel the tension from him, could practically hear the cogs working in his brain as he desperately tried to stay calm; to not get too emotional over one stupid mistake on his part, and she almost felt guilty.

Almost.

“Dad?” she asked, voice a little muffled against his sweater.

"Yeah, monkey?"

She pressed her face against his chest, quiet for some time, her gaze still cast down as her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his sweater. “You’re not… mad at me… right?” she asked, voice a little small, tentative almost.

"Not in the slightest," he replied instantly, looking at Maya and tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I'm not a cool dad, and that's okay."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a slight frown, though it was a fond one. “You’ve never been a cool dad,” she said, as if stating the obvious, though her tone was affectionate.

"I know," he said, sighing sadly as he tucked a curl behind her ear. "But I'm doing my best."

A little frown appeared on her face, a tug between her eyes, at the sad look in his eyes; the little self-deprecating tilt to his tone. She felt awful, almost guilty for making him sound that way. With a slight frown on her face, and a little more emotion than she’d been willing to show before, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face back in the crook of his neck. “I know you are,” she mumbled against his skin.

He wrapped his arms around Maya's waist, taking a deep breath as it relaxed the tightness in his chest. "I just want you to be proud of me, that's all."

She pulled back, looking at him, her gaze a little more open and vulnerable than before, but still a little defiant and stubborn. “I am proud of you,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You’re an FBI agent, a genius and you’re a great dad.”

"Even if I'm the dorkiest dad in the world?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curling up.

She huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes and giving him a slight shove. “Yes, even if you’re the dorkiest dad in the world,” she said with an air of fond exasperation.

He kissed Maya's hair, stroking the back of her head. "I love you, monkey."

She sighed, though the small fond smile never left her face, her arms around his neck, cuddled up close to him. “I love you too, Dad,” she said, finally looking up at him, giving him a small smile.

He kissed her forehead again, just because he could. "Alright, we ready for bed?"

She let out a loud groan, sounding exasperated. “But, I don’t want to go to bed,” she whined, giving him her best puppy dog eyes, as if that might sway him.

"You know we need at least 8 hours of sleep," Spencer chided gently. "And you need even more for that brain of yours to develop."

She let out another groan, though there was no real defiance behind it, more of a petulant teenage attitude. “I know, I know,” she said with a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Eight hours, like a grown-up.”

"That's my girl," he murmured, tucking her in. "You brushed your teeth?" he asked, smiling when she let him tuck her in without a fight. She rolled her eyes again, a little huff escaping her, though it was more fond than anything.

“Dad,” she groaned in faux-exasperation. “I’m not five. I brushed my teeth, okay?”

"For two whole minutes?" he asked, raising a brow.

Another sigh escaped her, exaggerated and put upon. “Yes, Dad, the full two minutes. Even used my timer and everything,” she said, rolling her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"Huh, maybe you are all grown up after all," he remarked, kissing her forehead. "Guess you don't need me to read to you tonight then."

She went very still, giving him a wide-eyed look, clearly shocked and appalled that he would even think that. “No, no, no, wait—” she protested, sitting up straight in bed. “You have to read to me, Dad. That’s not fair—”

Spencer laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Sure?"

She nodded, looking at him earnestly. “Yes, Dad. It’s not bedtime if you don’t read to me,” she said, settling back against her pillows, arms out from where he had tucked her in, geese lining her cotton blue pyjamas.

“Okay, tradition’s tradition,” Spencer replied, his voice non-chalant as he picked up her copy of Eragon, settling into bed next to her and opening up the dense novel to where they had last left it. He slid the bookmark out, holding it against the back of the book, and Maya snuggled into his shoulder, following along to his soft, soothing voice.

As Spencer read to her, she felt herself growing drowsy, her eyes drooping a little, a yawn escaping her and he smiled, looking down at her. “Time to sleep, monkey,” he murmured, settling her head against the pillows.

As he tucked her in, she looked up at him, still not quite ready to let him go. “Dad?” she mumbled, her eyes still closed, but she wasn’t quite asleep yet either.

"Yeah?"

"Can you... stay here for a little while?" she asked, quietly, so much so that he almost wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. Despite all her teenage huffing and her constant efforts to show how big and grown-up she was these days, there were still moments like these, when she reminded him that she was still a little girl at heart.

"Sure, I'll be right here," he murmured, stroking her hair as she closed her eyes.

She let out a soft sigh, a content little sound, and snuggled even further down into the blankets. "Thanks, Dad," she mumbled groggily, her voice soft and thick with sleep.

"You got it, monkey," he whispered and she smiled sleepily, her grip on his hand loosening as she slipped into the comforting embrace of sleep.

[h8aaz]

❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 .ᐟ ❞

SUMMARY .ᐟ . . . you're a princess from a nearby kingdom, your family being one of the many that were invited to attend the coronation of the oldest winchester son. the two of you meet for the first time, and your worlds suddenly become brighter.

WARNINGS .ᐟ . . . king!dean + princess!reader . love at first sight . kingdom au? idk . kinda a destined to be/soulmates au . fluff + slight suggestive . sweet dean . sam mentioned . use of (name) .

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . happy jensen day!! this is obviously based off the song from frozen bc i recently rewatched the first movie and i still LOVE this song. i couldn't find a gif so enjoy the picture of jensen as king bacchus lol. lowkey loved this so maybe it'll become a small mini series idk! but he won't be a hans, i won't do that to yall, i promiseee 🙏🙏. likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!!

you winced in pain as your helpers pulled the strings of the back of your dress, cinching your waist into the figure of the corset. afterwards, you had gotten your hair and makeup done, all being topped with your tiara being placed on your head.

you and your parents gathered into a carriage, riding to the next kingdom over, being ruled by the winchesters. soon the ride was over and you had found yourself amongst many others in the pews of a church, watching dean winchester hold the septar as a crown was placed upon his head; his younger brother, sam, stood off to the side with a proud look on his face.

dean turned around to face the crowd, beaming a grin full of confidence. for some odd reason, you felt drawn to him just by staring at him. maybe it's the new title? the thought of the power he now held? or was it how unbelievably charming he was in the way he carried himself? the way he spoke, words flowing flawlessly through his speech before the choir queued in, initiating the conclusion of the ceremony. there was just something about him, and you don't know if you'll ever quite place what that something was.

but your thoughts came to a halt as your heart thumped in your chest. he was looking at you. the crowd was clapping while he was staring— admiring you.

you began to clap as well, fearing that the reason he was staring was because you weren't. but he continued. to dean, you were the most gorgeous, beautiful, and damn stunning woman in the room. he knew of you and your family, his father having made trades with them in the past. he knew of your recent princess status; and he wanted to change that to queen right then and there.

your eyes sparkled like the shiny and expensive stones on his new crown, and your tiara. it seemed as if the world stopped when the two of you became mesmerized with each other.

sam caught this small fraction of a moment in time unlike the attendees around the large room. he smiled into a side smirk, his dimple poking into his skin.

"just go talk to her, dean." the young brunette urged his older brother as they stood at the front of the room, guests going up and bowing to them before dancing or mingling on the sidelines while they enjoyed the catering.

"yeah, like that's so easy. thanks, sammy." dean responded sarcastically, making sam roll his eyes at the fact that his brother, the ultimate flirt, was too scared to talk to you. "she'll be gone soon if you don't take your chance." sam spoke.

his words lingered in dean's head like a blaring reminder. this was the final part of his coronation, you truly will be gone by the time the party was over. and i mean, look at you! you're ethereal, and if he doesn't act now, the next thing he knows, he'll be invited as a guest to your wedding to a much lesser man who isn't him.

his eyes scanned the room as he had looked away from you to glare at his brother. once he found you again, his vision locked in once more, completely zeroing in on you as everyone around seemed to disappear.

"wish me luck, sammy." he mumbled, blocking out his brother's reply as he was already making his way across the large ballroom to you, grinning at yet ignoring the other guests who congratulated him.

you immediately felt his looming presence as you turned from the table and looked up as he towered over you.

"hi." he mumbled softly with a matching smile. your eyes widened, looking around the two of you to see people staring and murmuring.

you covered your mouth with your hand, "hi- hi, hey. uhm..h-hello, your, uh," you cleared your throat, "sorry, chocolate." you chuckled awkwardly while his smile grew. you curtsied after swallowing the rest of your sweet treat, "hello, your majesty." you smiled.

he found the whole encounter adorable while you, on the other hand, regretted your choices and stutters and basically everything you were doing. "dean is fine. you're (name), right?" he held out his hand, which you gently placed yours in, gasping lightly when he kissed your knuckles.

"oh! uh, yes, heh, sorry- yes, that's me. con-congratulations, dean. the ceremony, this party, you, its all beautiful." you rambled, pink flushing to both of your cheeks at your words.

"i-i didn't mean- i'm sorry- i'm so sorry, that was so weird-" your quick apology was cut off by his laughter, making you more embarrassed by the fact he was laughing at you.

"no, no, it's fine. please, don't apologize." he subconsciously rubbed your knuckles, the two of you not realizing the fact your hands were still connected. "plus, i was going to call you the same thing, so you beat me to it." he admitted, making you giggle.

"really? you think i'm beautiful?" you asked in disbelief. "not just beautiful, i think you're absolutely stunning." he answered. you stared into each others' eyes, sparkles twinkling in shared fondness.

the two of you were now on a balcony somewhere in the winchester castle, having broken away from the party with sam's help, who was incredibly sweet to you when you met, willing to spill all of dean's secrets right then and there had the elder not been there to shush him before he could.

"okay, can i just say something crazy?" dean asked, his arm linked with yours while your other wrapped around it.

"i love crazy!" you replied, making him chuckle as the two of you stared at the view ahead. dean took a deep breath in, soaking in this moment like it could be his very last. he was happy, so incredibly happy. he's never felt this free before.

all my life has been a series of doors in my face

and then, suddenly, i bump into you

"i've never felt this strongly for anyone before, let alone someone i just met. which, isn't a bad thing, not at all. but...i just never felt a connection like this. it feels so strange but so..." he trailed off, failing to think of a word.

i was thinking the same thing, 'cause like, i've been searching my whole life to find my own place

and maybe it's the party talking, or the chocolate fondue

"perfect?" you suggested, your soft voice breaking him away from the scenery to look down at you, seeing you already looking at him with your head rested against his upper arm.

he smiled, a genuine, happy smile. "yeah, perfect." he sighed contently. he moved to adjust your positions until you were standing and staring at each other. he moved some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek.

but with you (but with you, i found my place), i see your face

and it's nothing like i've ever known before

your hands rested against his chest, breathing calmly as if this was all second nature. the two of you glanced to the other's lips then back to the eyes. and as if spoken in a silent language, you both leaned in, connecting together with bodies flush against each other.

love is an open door, love is an open door (door)

your mouths moved in perfect sync, matching puzzle pieces finally clicking together. his other hand found sanctuary on your waist while yours reached up to his neck, pulling him down into you.

your hearts swelled as the two of you moved in passion and with certainty. this was it, this was your person.

love is an open door with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door

after a very heated, nearly getting caught by guards, makeout session; the two of you made your way from the balcony to one of dean's favorite hidden tracks in the castle. you walked through small hallways and narrow open spaces through the garden before settling on a pathway. you had talked about multiple things, finding out you had so much in common.

i mean, it's crazy (what?)

we finish each other's (sandwiches)

that's what i was gonna say!

i never met someone who thinks so much like me

jinx! jinx again!

as a bird flew by, you both ducked at the same time, letting out small giggles as you faced each other, pecking lips until it slowed into real kisses.

our mental synchronization can have but one explanation

you (and i) were (just) meant to be

say goodbye (say goodbye) to the pain of the past

we don't have to feel it anymore

love is an open door

you eventually made your way up to a cliffside, dean leading the way with constant reassurance that you'd be safe as you clung to him tightly.

the view was absolutely gorgeous. the higher position letting you see above the land filled with trees, homes, and the castle itself. you squinted your eyes, seeing your own faraway kingdom's lights in the distance.

"god, this is wonderful, dean." you gushed. "right? my mom showed me this when i was little, i come here every now and again. i've never brought anyone but sam up here." he spoke.

"bet you say that to every girl." you snorted, which made him shake his head. "i haven't. i'm normally too afraid to show myself vulnerable around anyone but sammy." he turned to you, "but with you, (name), it's different. i feel so comfortable and happy and i feel like i can by myself around you."

you stared at him in shock and admiration, nobody has ever felt that way, or at least said they do, around you before. and it made you fall deeply in love with him on the spot, whereas he had fallen in love with you since he first saw you.

you immediately brought him into yet another kiss, your tongues swirling together like a practiced dance. hands roamed around warm bodies straining against uncomfortable, tight clothing.

your bodies moved against each other, chasing any sort of friction from the other. moans of pleasure and love spewed from one mouth to another, trapped between the two of you.

love is an open door (door)

life can be so much more with you (with you), with you (with you)

love is an open door (door)

when you pulled away for needed air, a string of saliva connected you both, breaking at heaving chests releasing pants swollen lips. your eyes gazed over each other's, hues of colors shining in the moonlight behind dilated pupils.

"can i say something crazy? will you marry me?" dean asked in a soft whisper, not really thinking before he spoke, but now awaiting your answer.

"can i say something even crazier? yes!" you whispered back then squealed. grins plastered on your faces before lips smashed and crashed against each other again, hands pulling until you were close, almost meshed, together once more.

tags!: @sunsbaby @j2archives @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @bejeweledinterludes @deansbeer @starzify @bluemerakis @immodestly-marina @legalmente-loca @multiversefanfics

[monolotus]

°˖✧◝ (𝙠𝙚𝙮𝙨 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮) ◜✧˖°

includes: wonwoo fighting, mentions of reader having a period, ramyeon

[05:54 a.m]

wonu👾: having breakfast with mingyu! long day ahead 😢

[07:32 a.m]

wonu👾: good morning sleepy head!

[08:06 a.m]

wonu👾: let me know when you wake up!

[11:00 a.m]

wonu👾: just catching up! about to enter the studio, talk to you in a bit💗

[15:53 p.m]

wonu👾: it’s almost four, there’s no way you are still sleeping

[missing call]

[missing call 2]

[15:57 p.m]

wonu👾: are you mad?

wonu👾: if you are mad, at least let me know you are okay.

[16:37 p.m]

wonu👾: i don’t remember you having anything in your calendar, are you at the library? a caffe?

[17:25 p.m]

wonu👾: about to enter practice!

wonu👾: if i’m done and you haven’t replied yet, i’ll be going to your apartment

[19:57 p.m]

wonu👾: babe?

[missing call]

[19:59 p.m]

wonu👾: got left off early, im coming

Wonwoo had been busy all day, their manager bickering whenever he would get a break to text you during work. He couldn’t help it though, it was so rare of you to not reply to his texts. Not only that, but he had to re-write his entire verse in the next title track, as the co-producers said “it didn’t fit the flow”. So, on top of all his work, he hadn’t gotten a single message from you since last night.

He hadn’t seen you active on social media either, this only making him worry more.

As he got closer to the door of your apartment, he could feel his heart almost escaping from his chest as he saw the door unlocked. Why was your door unlocked? Were you with somebody? Had somebody break in?

Filled with questions, he quickly got into your apartment, starting to call out your name.

Going to the kitchen, he grabbed one of the largest knifes he could find, while holding his phone in the other. Ready to call for help if needed. Slowly, he started going to each room- the bathroom, the laundry room, even the little balcony you had.

The door to your room was slightly open, and he could only think the worse. Cracking it open, he saw your figure hugging a foxdungee. With a confused expression on his face, he let the knife in one of the shelves, before reaching for you, only for you to jump once you realized he was there.

“Wonwoo! You could’ve killed me!” You yelled, clutching at your shirt, catching your breath.

“I mean, yeah, you know why? You let the door open! Anybody could’ve break in! How could you forget to lock the door? Is something so dumb! You couldn’t even do that?” He was being harsh on you, but his own heart was beating like crazy- you hadn’t answered any of his texts or calls in the whole day, and you were just in your bed the entire day? He was exhausted after taking criticism and what nots from his members and staff the whole day.

“Well, good thing the building has security! Don’t yell at me, it was a silly mistake!” You pouted, your head had been pounding the entire day, your lower stomach felt hard with each cramp, and you had just woken up, your body too tired and numb to allow you to do something besides sleeping in.

“You’re right, you’re an adult. You should know better than to disappear the whole day and leave your door open to whoever wants to break in, right?” With that being said, he got out of the room, closing the door maybe a little too hard for his own liking.

With a sigh, he took off his shoes (too worried to see you to take them off before entering your home) and took back the knife to grab three packs of the ramyeon you always kept on hand, he started boiling the water.

He took a glance at your apartment, the sofa having one too many blankets, a pack of oreo out of the fridge and the bottle of peanut butter took his attention, a combination you only ate on a specific situation… Checking the calendar on his phone, he let a new sigh. You were pretty regular with your period, also this being one of the few things that can make you feel under the weather so easily.

He started cleaning the little mess you had on your house, waiting until the ramyeon would be ready.

Once he had set the table, he went back to your room. Knocking softly, he entered the space once again.

“Baby, i’m so sorry.” He murmured, seeing you covering even more of your body with the tick cover, “I thought you were just being childish, I didn’t know what date was.”

“Whatever you say, Wonwoo” you whispered, feeling his weight beside you, and his hand caressing your back.

“I’m so sorry” he whispered, pulling the blanket off you just enough to start kissing the little exposed skin of your face. “I should’ve asked if you were okay before overreacting like that. I was just stressed from practice.”

“Then fight with Hoshi and Jihoon, not with your beautiful but cramped girlfriend.” As you let off the blanket, you decided that receiving kisses from your boyfriend was more important that being petty.

Taking the hint, Wonwoo laid with you, starting to bombard your face with kisses. Hugging you tightly, suddenly the days stress started to disappear and the shame of yelling at you started to replace it.

“I’m sorry, jagiya” he murmured against your neck, “But I was worried, you hadn’t replied to a single text of mine”

“Because I was sleeping, Wonu. When have I not talk to you, even when mad?” you replied, with a heavy sigh. “Let’s eat, I can smell the ramyeon from here”

Later at night, when you were wrapped to your boyfriend’s torso while trying to fall asleep, you could only hide the smile that came with your boyfriend becoming so needy for you to accept his apologies. Obviously, a lot of kisses was the perfect payment.

˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹-˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹-

more / ask & request are open!

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Ok so this is my first time ever doing an ask so if I’m doing this wrong PLEASE tell me. Anyways I wanted to ask for some Oliver Aiku angst. Specifically where we’re married and he’s been cheating but he’s done a weirdly good job at hiding it. But then we find out and leave him. And if you could PLEASE make it in Oliver’s POV for extra male groveling. Now again this is my first time doing an ask so if I come off as demanding or just not detailed enough please forgive me. 🤕😭🫶🏼🤕

moral of the story oliver aiku x gn!reader

Synopsis: Oliver Aiku had everything: fame, the best career, and the love of his life... but sometimes, the snake slithers into the garden of Eden to poison everything.

Tags and Themes: angst, cheating, divorce, established relationship, marriage, people asking stupid questions, aiku's human condition biting him in the ass, ooc lmao, ubers team mentioned eheh

Author's notes: Hello, sweetpea! Oh, this took me a while to write, and you're my first ever request for a drabble! haha! Thank you so much for dropping this request! I wrote it as well as I could. I drew inspiration from stories I heard from that one Reddit story that Smosh read. I forgot which episode, but I will link it here if I find it again. I hope you love it! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

photo grabbed from Pinterest (owner unknown; will search for it and add it here)

Want more stories? Check out the Blue Lock Masterlist!

On nights, he would stay up and wonder where he went wrong.

He knew he had gotten something wrong; he wasn't stupid, but the turn of events was something he couldn't control, or at least that's what he told himself to comfort him. The dissatisfaction, the cheating, the decision.

He lost everything that he once had.

If we go back to 2 years ago, Oliver Aiku was on the top of the world. Everyone loved him, everyone adored him. He was at the peak of his career at the ripe age of 27, one of Japan's most treasured players as he played for Italy. He was every kid's dream player and every teenager's role model in sports. And most of all, he had you, the best partner he could ever have; you were the one who knew him best since childhood until now and the best support he could ever have had. In every interview he had, he would honor you, telling the world that you're his lucky charm.

He had his dream life.

He had all the best in the world.

In your two years of marriage, he lived for the moment in the privacy of your shared home more than the spotlight on him all the time. Mornings were sweet as he would hold you in his arms, whispering "good morning" in your ear. As sweet love was shared between the safety of your sheets, he knew so well that this was his heaven, having you by his side. The routine of your quiet and comfortable days was something he held close to his heart because he knew how much you cared for him every day, and he gladly reciprocated that. It was all so surreal.

You were so surreal.

But sometimes, the devil slithers silently into the garden without anyone noticing, and for Aiku, it was the playful banters he had with his teammates.

"Don't you ever find it boring?" Lorenzo asked as they all gathered back into the locker room after a productive day of practice. That question alone got everyone's attention.

"Find what boring?" Barou chimed in, his gruff voice echoing in the room. Lorenzo cocked his head towards Aiku as he replied, "I was asking Mr. Lavender Haze here. I wanna know if marriage ever gets boring." Barou scoffs, shaking his head at his teammate. "You wouldn't understand that because all you ever care about is money."

"True, but that's because money can't hurt me," Lorenzo snickered. He slung an arm around Aiku, leaning all his weight on the defender. "Aiku has given up being a player for his partner. That's something I never expected him to do. He'd always disappear every time we're out drinking."

"There are things that needed to be sacrificed for love, Lorenzo," Aiku said, removing Lorenzo's arm around his shoulders. "You'd understand once you fall in love."

"But does it get boring?" Niko asked. The youngest of the team was never one to ask or peep when they talk about relationships, but this conversation must have piqued his interest. "Two years of marriage with the same person and all you do is now a routine. Surely, you'd return to your natural self, your human tendency of being a player."

"Niko, that's why sacrifices are made. I wouldn't have married them if I didn't truly love them. Besides, I know what I was doing before was destructive and inappropriate. I changed for them, and I couldn't be happier."

Niko hummed in response and continued whatever he was doing. But for Aiku, the questions stayed in his mind for quite a while. Does it ever get boring?

That's why he'd break up his past relationships before; 3 months of being together turn dull for him. He needed excitement, a challenge. He needed the thrill of chasing and pursuing. He lived for that high. But you..

You offered contentment, satisfaction, safety, and security. Something he never felt before because he tended to cheat and lily pad. He never wanted to settle down until you came back into his life and accepted him for who he was, loved him despite his past, and cared for him more than he ever cared for himself. You were the epitome of perfection in his eyes.

It was then he realized he still wanted it.

He wanted to get high on that feeling again.

It started small. Drinks with the team would turn into them entertaining fangirls at the bar. It wasn't new that Aiku would get the attention. Girls loved how he looked: his heterochromic eyes and how he carried himself. He'd tell them he was married at first, but with the need for thrill, he eventually gave in and chatted with one of the girls.

He didn't push her away when her hand started to wander on his thighs.

He didn't pull away when her lips got too close to his.

Eventually, his thoughts turned into fruition. The devil made him bite into the apple that wasn't supposed to be eaten, but whatever.

One make-out session turned into secret texts and calls. He was so good at being so discreet, making him feel nostalgic. His excuses weren't so obvious that you'd start suspecting him of anything. Rendezvous were hidden under the guise of extra training time due to an upcoming match, and calls were excused as ones from his manager about "interviews". He was careful, but could not hide the fact that it was...

It was everything he wanted, and he wanted more. More of the thrill, more of her, while still in the safety of your love and marriage.

How could you be so blind, he asked himself. How could his lovely partner be so trusting of him? How could you still smile and kiss him without knowing he was betraying you?

How could he imagine a life without you?

Months passed, and he knew he was in too deep. He started prioritizing the "practices" and "calls from the manager" over the time he should spend with you. It annoyed you, but you knew that's one of the things you were made aware of when you married the football star. His career comes first; the sports community will always have his attention first.

The calls kept coming, and one day, you answered one on his phone.

It wasn't the voice of his manager.

You were quick to pack up and leave despite his pleas, telling you he was sorry, that it was a mistake, that it wasn't supposed to happen.

"I told you, Aiku. When you proposed to marry me, I told you one mistake, I'll leave. I trusted you with all of my life, Aiku. I accepted you and saw how you changed for our marriage, and yet you betrayed me."

He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

He couldn't bring himself to wake up every morning, your absence making it all heavier. You weren't coming back soon, and he messed up. He lost you. He lost the life he knew he wanted. He lost the love he never deserved in the first place, yet you gave it to him wholeheartedly. You gave him a chance, and he failed.

The divorce papers arriving at his doorstep made it all worse.

He didn't want to sign it. He stared at it for too long, for days... for weeks... until your lawyer had to ring him up for the deadline.

He hated himself. For the first time, he hated every fiber of his being.

Every court meeting is like seeing the light because he gets to see you, his perfect angel. The only love he's ever known. But you would never meet his eyes. Always looking away, always so distant. He did this, he caused this. He lost the only love he ever knew.

After two whole years and several court hearings, your divorce was finalized. And for the first time in a long time, Aiku finally caught a glimpse of your eyes, the closest thing he could get to feeling your love once again, yet the words that came out of your mouth crushed him.

"I hope you realize that I will be the only one who will truly love you for you and not for your money and fame."

Aiku wasn't a crier. He never was, but he found himself breaking down at your words and how real this finally felt. He truly lost you. You were no longer his, and he's just a shell of a broken man.

He'll be haunted by the ghost of you, forever...

[yandere-sins]

OMFG I absolutely LOVE your writing and the overall creepyness of it💕😩 May I request a yandere childe with a crybaby s/o who Gets scared way too easily? Ik this might be basic but I really wanted to interact with you 💗🥹

Aah, thank you so much, you're so sweet! Sorry it took me so long, but thank you for requesting and interacting with me, I appreciate it! I gave the reader a good reason to be scared this time, hope that is okay! ♥

Extra Warning for Murder, Blood Mention

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Shh, babe, what's wrong? You don't have to worry about them anymore."

A calloused hand caressed your cheek, the other arm wrapping around your body as Childe drew you close to him. You were shivering, sobbing in his embrace. Still, he didn't seem to mind at all, a gentle smile on his face as he cradled you, having had more than enough practice with comforting his siblings to know how to comfort you. With the weight of his head on top of yours, you were nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck, his hand wandering back to brush down your hair while the one at the small of your back rubbed its thumb up and down. It was a perfect hug for a perfect darling, as Childe liked to call you. But there was one thing off about it.

The stench.

The squishy, wet feeling smeared all over your cheek and soaked into your clothes, together with the biting, iron smell of blood that stuck to him. Or perhaps it came from the corpses that lay behind his body, shielding the view. Or maybe you were only imagining it. It was hard to believe that you had just watched people die, their deaths caused by this almost stranger's hands. These people were your friends, and yet you couldn't believe it was real.

"I-I'm scared," you stammered, barely able to get the sound out of your throat. "They- They're d-dead."

"Oh, that's true," Childe replied, his voice full of pity and gentle reassurance. As if it hadn't been him who killed them. As if it was a coincidence, you stumbled over the bodies when, really, your friends had been laughing and talking next to you just mere seconds ago before Childe struck them down out of cold-blooded malice.

More tears dripped down your cheeks, countless of them. You were in too much shock to scream and run, but the flow of tears seemed endless as regret, guilt, and horror mixed. You felt nauseated, and yet you couldn't throw up, couldn't do anything. Frozen in place, you listened to the rapidly beating heart of the monster comforting you, feeling Childe take a deep breath, letting it out with a content sigh.

Whatever he was feeling, he seemed... proud of it.

You whimpered miserably as he pressed you tighter against his chest, swaying you side to side before pulling away a few inches. Not enough to let go of you, just so much that he could look into your eyes. Instead of pupils, there was only endless darkness, the moonlight dimly reflected in them, causing swirls of infatuation in the madness that was his gaze on you. Even with barely any light, you could see your own scared reflection. The blood stain on your cheek, the shock etched in every inch of your features.

"You need to keep it together, babe," Child whispered, the same broad, boyish grin on his lips that he had the first time you met him. Where you still thought he was a good guy, helping you carry some groceries home and inviting you to see the festival with him. You had to tell him "no" back then, since you already made plans with your friends. But now, they were no more, and he remained. Only now, that grin was nothing short of psychotic, standing in stark contrast to his eyes so devoid of emotions and the gore on his clothes.

"The guards will be here soon. You wouldn't want them to find you covered in the blood of those people, would you? They might think you did it."

Humiliating as it was, you could see your features grow desperate as a sob escaped you, your eyes crinkling as more tears fell. Childe hushed you again, pressing his lips to your forehead and kissing it over and over as he told you everything would be alright. That he wouldn't let anyone take you or take the blame for him. You could only listen half-heartedly as your feelings threatened to take over your whole body, controlling it and cementing you in place.

It had always been this way for you; the tears were your lifelong friend. Crying was the reaction your body knew best, whether in good or bad situations, and there wasn't much you could do. As a child, you had been mocked for being a crybaby, and as an adult, you were pitied for not having better control over your emotions. Fear had been your constant companion. Whether it was about making a mistake or not feeling like you were good enough to finish a task. You soon began fearing your own incapability, but no one—sometimes not even you—understood that this fear was a force to be reckoned with, one you were completely helpless against.

Unless there was another person stronger than it.

"Aaand up!" Childe proclaimed, having stood up and gripped your hands in the time you spiraled into anxiety and desperation, the overwhelming guilt not helping. But suddenly, you were on your feet despite the tears still falling. Even though you didn't know how to move or act. First, he had comforted you for the crime he committed, and now he did what you had never managed before—pull you out of the trance of your fears.

"Let's go!" he announced chipperly, a slippery, bloody hand gripping yours so tight that it hurt. Jerking you forward, you could only watch Childe's back as he began to run, laughing carefreely as if the death of your friends didn't bother him. As if he was free, unbound by laws and those feelings, you felt so strongly.

Only when you looked down did you notice your own feet moving—rapidly, swiftly. You didn't need to look up as Childe led you through the labyrinth of people who were so occupied with the Lantern Rite in Liyue Harbor that they didn't notice the two blood-soaked individuals passing through.

Breathing was hard, moving was straining, and his grip on you was relentlessly painful. Yet, neither of you stopped until you were already partway up on a mountain outside the harbor, Childe panting just like you, trying to catch his breath. He collapsed with a groan on the dirty trail up the mountain, and with your hand still in his grasp, he pulled you down with him.

It should have hurt when your body was forced to give out, but you landed cushioned in his chest and on his lap. The vibrations of his laugh against your skin felt weird, your senses not yet having returned fully. Lifting your head, you saw the countless lanterns rise to the sky, illuminating it beautifully with the people's memories of those they lost—and you should have been there, lightning lanterns for your friends.

"There we go," Childe muttered, catching your attention as he wiped over your cheek, sticky skin against more sticky skin. Only now did you realize that your tears had dried up, and you looked at the monster that had both made you cry and took care to run them dry—literally.

"You're a pretty crier," Childe sighed, the glow of the lanterns returning some life to the blue in his eyes. Or perhaps the sight before him returned his emotions to him, making him almost look normal despite the red stains. "But I like you better when you're happy. One of us has to."

Leaning his head on your shoulder, Childe reached for your hand, giving it another tight squeeze. Above you, the night sky was filled with beautiful lights, the view even better than from the harbor itself, but you couldn't forget even a second of what had happened that day. That you weren't enjoying this view with your friends, but with some murderer you barely knew, who had pulled you out of the sadness in your heart, only to leave it empty, no feelings able to fill it.

"I'll keep you happy," Childe promised, a faint blush on his cheeks that reached up his ears. "Everything will be the way you want, so you don't have to cry anymore."

Only then did you realize what it truly meant to be afraid, sitting on the lap of someone who thought manipulating the world to his liking would make you happy. Someone who didn't bat an eye before killing an innocent soul. Someone determined to make you feel as empty as he was, just to keep you by his side.

And when Childe looked up grinning, you managed to wipe the smile right off his face, a tear dropping down your cheek.

[minswriting]

DIE WITH A SMILE - SPENCER REID X READER

About: You and Spencer are dancing in his living room and you think about the way you fell for him.

Warnings: fluff!! mentions of spencer’s addiction, getting shot, migraines, etc. takes place in season 7 heehee. not proof read yet again because once i finish writing, im DONE lol

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Based off of Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars. Border made by @esote-rika !! Please comment and reblog with your thoughts!

Ooh

I, I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

The soft tune of a song filled the apartment with a soothing hum. You were standing in the middle of Spencer’s living room, swaying as Spencer held you close to him. One hand in yours, the other wrapped around your waist while your other hand rested on Spencer’s shoulder. It was romantic, to say the least. The dim lighting of the lamp standing in the corner created the perfect atmosphere.

Nothing was spoken between either of you as you looked at one another. Nothing had to be spoken. Words were meaningless when it came to the emotions you felt for each other. Years of friendship, years of companionship, years of pining for the other until one day, it all came to fruition.

You joined the BAU a year after Spencer. Being the same age and of similar intellect, it was easy to form a friendship. You never judged him for his incessant rambling, always smiling and listening to him with your full attention. Just as he never judged you when you went on about the latest gossip in pop culture. And when you were both paired up on cases? Well, you were a duo that couldn’t be outmatched.

It was inevitable that you ended up falling for the genius doctor. With his fun little quirks, the way he got so excited over random topics, how he was so passionate about his work. But what had really sealed the deal for you was his loyalty and commitment to the team.

There were countless nights when you’d show up to his apartment after a really hard case, crying because of anxiety. And Spencer would take you in with open arms, consoling you until you’ve cried it out. He always ordered your favorite take out afterwards and you’d eat ice cream together.

Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow

Nobody’s promised tomorrow

So I’ma love you every night like it’s the last night

Like it’s the last night

Spencer smiled at you, his beautiful amazing smile that never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. And you, of course, smiled back. He spun you around, causing you to laugh as you both continued swaying. “You have the prettiest laugh,” Spencer murmured, still grinning as he held you again.

“And you have the prettiest smile,” You replied, tilting your head with a loving gaze in your eyes.

Spencer couldn’t help the small laugh that left his lips as his cheeks reddened from your words. The two of you have been dating for a year now and yet, you still make that man blush.

As you danced together, you thought about the two of you over the years. You realized you liked Spencer early on. Perhaps you fell first, you didn’t really know.

After the whole fiasco with Tobias Hankle, you knew something was wrong with Spencer. At first you had assumed it was simply trauma, needing to work through the fact that he had been kidnapped. However, the irritability, the shakiness, the unkempt look of his appearance mixed with the fact that you noticed he hadn’t been eating. That’s how you knew that Spencer was suffering from more than just trauma. And when you walked in on him in the bathroom one day, shooting a needle into his arm, it was safe to say your assumption was right.

That day you got him the help he needed without the Bureau knowing that it was happening. You didn’t want to risk Spencer’s position but you also knew he couldn’t keep ruining his body. You had cried to Spencer, telling him that you couldn’t fathom a world without him if things were to go incredibly wrong, as addictions usually do. So you guys did things privately to ensure he was okay. That was the day you realized just how much you cared for Spencer, even if you didn’t know it was love quite yet.

If the world was ending, I’d wanna be next to you

If the party was over and our time on Earth was through

I’d wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile

If the world was ending, I’d wanna be next to you

Ooh

The second time you realized how much you cared for Spencer was when he got shot in the leg. You knew it wasn’t fatal as it was just his knee. But you were still worried, nonetheless. You were the first one to visit Spencer in the hospital. Everyone else had immediately gone to Hotch after finding out that he had been stabbed by Foyet. Maybe you should’ve been a bit more worried about your boss, maybe you should’ve seen him first. And yet, all you cared about was the fact that Spencer had been shot.

That was the first time you allowed yourself to admit you were in love with Spencer even if you didn’t tell him.

The way you guys got together was a bit unconventional. Spencer had been having a prolonged period of migraines, strengthened by the stress of a schizophrenic break, well, it wasn’t a happy period to say the least. He hadn’t admitted to anyone that he was having migraines, wanting to keep it to himself. But you, being the beautiful and amazing best friend that you were, knew he was suffering from a headache of sorts with his sensitivity to light and loud noises.

And so, after a particularly easy case, you had gone to Spencer’s with two different bags in your hand. One was just takeout from this Indian food place that you knew Spencer adored. And the other was a bag from the pharmacy which included pain killers, a cold pack, vitamin c, and other things you knew that helped with migraines.

Spencer had answered the door wearing TARDIS pajama pants and a black t-shirt, wearing fuzzy slippers on his feet, and his hair was all over the place. His eyes were sunken in with even darker circles around them, eyebrows furrowed from the light. He had clearly just woken up from a nap.

“What are you-“ Spencer began to ask, his voice hoarse from sleep.

You interrupted him, keeping your tone soft so as to not cause any more pain for him. “I brought you some food,” You said, giving Spencer a small smile. “And I’ve noticed you’ve been having pain so I brought you some stuff that could help.”

Who was Spencer to say no?

The night had been spent in mostly silence, eating on Spencer’s couch with little conversation. And eventually, it ended with Spencer’s head in your lap, a cold pack on his eyes, while your fingers moved through his messy hair, massaging his scalp. It was a peacefulness that you only ever got with Spencer. You were taking care of him and the quiet didn’t feel awkward whatsoever.

Eventually, Spencer broke the silence with a sentence that changed the dynamic between the two of you forever. “I love you,” he whispered, scared to use his voice. He had been so quiet. Had it not already been so silent, you could’ve missed it. But you didn’t.

Those three words caused you to stop your movements in his hair as you looked down at Spencer. He removed the cold pack from his eyes, looking up at you. “What?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows, as though you had mistaken what Spencer had said.

This time, he didn’t hesitate. “I love you,” Spencer said, his voice more clear this time.

“I-I love you too,” You had responded, heart fluttering in your chest from Spencer’s simple confession. It didn’t need to be this big, emotional ordeal.

That night, you guys found a new way to alleviate migraines.

Oh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only war worth fighting for

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

And now, here you were, laughing and smiling as you moved in sync with Spencer in his living room. In a silly moment, you moved your arm so you could spin Spencer around, causing him to laugh and do so. Nothing else mattered between the two of you. Your love for each other went above anything. You will always protect him just as he’d always protect you.

If today was your last day on Earth, you’d die the happiest woman alive because you’d die knowing you got to be in love with the world’s most amazing and intelligent man.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

real life. l Joel Miller

Summary: maybe this was the life you were both waiting for

Warnings: some sad, but a lot of fluff, some smut at the end (+18), worries; Ellie and Tommy mention, mention of pregnancy

A/N: I'm very glad that you received the previous chapter so well. I think many of us are waiting for a happy ending. This chapter is something different, I hope you'll be gentle with me. I've seen lately that many new people are reading this series. I'd love to know what you think.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

He saw her again, she was just as he remembered her. For the first time in a long time, he dreamed of her differently. More alive, happier.

He was home again, and everything was as it should be, and she was there too. Damn, he could feel her so well as if she was really standing right next to him. A smile lit up her face, she gazed at him with feistiness but also love.

"She's waiting for you in the garden." Sarah said.

He looked out the window and saw a familiar silhouette. You were standing in the middle of the lawn, your face turned to the sun, so beautiful. He smiled and looked back at his daughter.

"She'll understand. She understands everything." he replied, stroking the girl's cheek. "I miss you so much, baby girl."

"I know." she snuggled into his hand, narrowing her eyes. "I'll always be here for you."

Sometimes he dreamed of Sarah as a little child, sometimes you were with them and everything seemed so natural, so normal, like it was a life he had experienced. Joel couldn't remember when he had started dreaming like that, but he didn't want to think about it. A soothing feeling filled him and he felt lighter.

"So I can count on you? Joel?"

"What?" he looked at her a little confused.

"You seem a little distracted." Hazel smiled. "I asked if you'd come over and take a look at the sink."

He didn't quite remember what they were talking about. It was a nice day, warm and sunny. Joel had just left the Tipsy Bison where he'd met Tommy and was about to join you across the street where you were shopping, when Hazel stopped him. And even though the woman was talking to him, his eyes and thoughts kept wandering to you.

He noticed you talking to the woman behind the counter. There was something about your movements, something that caught his attention. Joel couldn't help himself lately and often, when he watched you, he realized one thing - you were carrying his child. That thought consumed him completely.

“I’ll send Barry over to you, he’ll handle it,” he said finally, giving Hazel a quick look.

The woman had a disappointed look on her face. “I’d rather you handle this. I trust you.”

His gaze wandered back to you, you were putting bread and some fruit in the basket. "And I trust Barry. He'll show up today."

And before Hazel could answer, he headed across the street.

He entered the store before you could even realize it, nodded to the woman behind the cash register and quickly reached for the basket, almost ripping it out of your hand.

"Jesus! Joel." You sighed, rolling your eyes. "You scared me."

"You shouldn't be lifting." He muttered quietly so the saleswoman wouldn't hear.

"It's not that heavy. Come on."

"No." He grabbed it tighter and placed his other hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the building. "I hope your stubbornness isn't genetic, because I'm going to go completely gray because of you."

He did it again. Completely unconsciously. You didn't talk much about the baby or the pregnancy. Joel was relieved that you didn't insist on taking part in the patrols, but you still didn't talk much about it. Less than two weeks had passed, everything was still fresh.

"Let her get used to it. She's been through a lot, and now this." Tommy said when Joel confided in him about the situation between you "She must be scared."

“I know.” Joel nodded. “But I can’t stop thinking it’s my fault. I want her to know I’m there for her.”

It was a quiet evening. Rain was lightly pattering against the windowsill, and you were curled up on the couch, reading a book you found in the Jackson library. Ellie managed to get out of the house before the rain started, and the place fell silent. Until.

You didn't recognize it at first, but soon your keen ear caught the first notes. The old record player you had in the hallway was playing music. You turned around and saw Joel.

"I found this a while ago. It's old, but maybe you'll like it." he said, and then he walked up to you, extending his hand to you "Will you dance with me, babe?"

It's been raining since you left me Now I'm drowning in the flood You see, I've always been a fighter But without you, I give up

You wordlessly grabbed his hand, letting him pull you into his solid body. Warm lips brushed your temple as you slid your fingers through the hair that fell to the back of his neck. You swayed gently to the rhythm of the next words.

I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine 'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind And I'll love you, always

"I know you're scared. I am too." His quiet voice echoed in your ear. "But we're in this together."

"What if I can't handle it? What if I'm not cut out to be a mother?" you asked quietly.

These questions must have been worrying you for a long time, because Joel felt your voice tremble. He hugged you tighter so that you could feel his heartbeat.

"You're already doing everything to keep him safe. I know what you're like. You'll be the best mother to him. Or her."

What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair To touch your lips, to hold you near When you say your prayers, try to understand I've made mistakes, I'm just a man

He heard your quiet sobbing and his heart skipped a beat. You'd buried all your fears and worries so deeply that only now did Joel realize what you had to deal with. If he was afraid of whether you'd be safe, then you had to create this child and give birth to it. 

He remembered when Sarah was little, he remembered the sleepless nights and colic when he spent hours massaging her belly and she cried. He remembered when her teeth were coming out, or when she first got sick. But the world was different then.

"I'm with you on this, baby. I give myself completely to you. Remember that. You’re not alone."

If you told me to cry for you, I could If you told me to die for you, I would Take a look at my face There's no price I won't pay To say these words to you

You woke up feeling his hand on your belly, under your shirt tenderly lying where new life should be hidden. The quiet snoring was evidence that Joel was doing it unconsciously.

Ever since you found out about the pregnancy, you felt fear above all. You knew that Joel was on your side, that Ellie was delighted. Recently, even Tommy quietly mentioned that if you needed anything, he and Maria were ready to lend a helping hand. The people closest to you were with you, but fear settled in your heart and wouldn't leave you.

You never saw yourself as a mother. Or maybe you never had the opportunity to consider such a situation? God only knew. And then Joel and Ellie appeared on your path, your life took on new colors. You were no longer lonely, you had them. And although it wasn't always nice, although there were also difficult moments, you were together. So maybe now it all made sense too?

You turned gently and looked at Joel's sleeping face. The wrinkle between his eyebrows seemed softer to you, you saw all the small wrinkles on his face too, the gray hair intertwined with the darker ones, the lips that you adored so much.

You loved him. You were as sure of it as the fact that the sun rose every morning. This guy was your everything and most importantly - he wanted everything with you.

You gently touched his cheek, Joel quivered. Old habits are hard to break. You smiled, stroking his stubbled cheek and feeling his hand now resting on your lower back move slightly.

A quiet groan escaped his chest. "Go to sleep."

"I can't." you replied quietly. "You snore terribly."

He lifted his eyelid slightly, looking at you indignantly. "I don't snore."

"Yes, you do."

Joel sighed and turned onto his back, rubbing his face with his hand. He sighed when he felt you snuggle up to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He liked mornings like this, although he deliberately pretended to be grumpy.

Your warm body lying so close to his, your soft skin. Damn, he loved it all.

"Joel?" your voice was still hoarse from sleep, but he heard it clearly.

"Mhmm." he mumbled without even opening his eyes.

"I was thinking..." you started and suddenly moved, before Joel could react you were already lying on him with your arms resting on either side of his head. He opened his eyes slightly and waited. "I was thinking that since I can't be more pregnant, then..."

"Stop right there." he mumbled, placing his hands on your hips "You'll be more pregnant. You'll be much bigger, darling."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Okay, but what I mean is... I meant that if you wanted to, maybe we could... You know." you made a small circle with your hips and felt his manhood twitch. You smiled mischievously.

"Christ!" Joel moaned "You're serious."

You nodded, your messy hair falling over your face. "You know, now you can finish inside me without worry. You can't knock me up any more..."

He frowned and looked at you seriously. "You're not kidding?"

You shook your head. "It's been a while. After all this happened... I miss you. Your closeness..."

"Fuck, I miss you too." He replied and lifted his head, capturing your lips in his.

It was one of those kisses when you were happy and horny at the same time. You kissed him back in an instant and soon your tongues were tangled and his strong hands were gripping your buttocks tighter. 

Damn, he wanted you like never before. Not only because you haven't had sex since you saw the two lines on the test, let's be honest - sex wasn't on your mind then, but now a lot of things between you have become clear and even more bonds have been created that have connected you to each other.

You wanted to feel him with your whole being, you wanted to make love to Joel and show how much he meant to you, but also to feel the same love from him. 

His warm skin beneath your fingertips, the soft groans that filled the bedroom in the early morning… Yes, this was real life. And while you might as well have been stranded in the middle of nowhere with him, you were tangled in the sheets with Joel, moaning softly as he moved inside you. Gently at first, like he was afraid he might hurt you.

"You won't break me, Joel. I'm all yours."

That was enough for him. His movements were strong and decisive. He thrust in and out of you, taking your breath away. Your body submitted to him, and he took and gave at the same time.

And then, as you collapsed next to each other, trying to calm your breathing and your racing hearts, Joel thought he had never felt so alive around anyone before.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 sleeper build : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Four times Percy showed off his strenght and had y/n swooning over him.

mari talks! i'm so weak for sleeper build sorry i literally woke up to write this.

warnings: slight mention of percy being taller than reader, use of petnames, protective!percy, use of y/n, i think that's all.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he moved her bookshelf

It's not like she didn’t know that Percy was strong, she wasn't dumb. Of course he was. She had seen him wield Riptide like it was made of air, lift entire pieces of debris off wounded campers and, you know, survive and come victorious out of battles against gods.

But somehow, she always saw him as just Percy. Cute, funny— infuriating sometimes, but undeniably cute. His messy dark hair and those ridiculously pretty sea-green eyes, the way of carrying himself that made him look effortlessly cool and how he always had had a comment that never failed to make her laugh. That was what made her fall for him.

But she had never stopped to think about his strength outside of those battles, on his day to day he was only percy, who sometimes tripped over his own feet and wore hoodies and tshirts that hung loosely on his frame. It was hard to think about him any other way.

That is, of course, until she asks him for help to move her bookshelf.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" She asks, still shy about having to bother him.

"No, I've got it." He sends her a small, reassuring smile before crouching to grab the bookshelf.

Still, she is about to offer her help when he suddenly hoists the entire bookshelf up like it weighs nothing. And y/n—

She forgets how to breathe.

Because she is suddenly aware of how strong he is, not only because he is carrying that damn bookshelf as if it's nothing to him, but also because his forearm flexes, his biceps pulling against his sleeves, the shirt that is supposedly loose on him now seems too small for his arms.

"Where do you want to put it?" He asks but— gods forgive her, she is not thinking about where to put that bookshelf at all.

He must have noticed her lack of answer, because he looks over his shoulder to find her gaping at him, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

She doesn't reply, simply blinking at him. Oh, the gods are being cruel with her. His shirt has ridden up slightly and she's able to see his toned stomach and those arms. He looks like one of those Greek statues on Mount Olympus, all effortless strength and power. Not fair at all.

"y/n?" he tries again, actually worried because she has gone pale white and is definitely not breathing.

"Yes?" she blinks dumbly at him before she realizes he is waiting for an answer. "Oh! um— I wanted to move it to that corner."

Oh. she is dooomed.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he picked her up

She's in the weapons closet, trying to pick up a bag of arrows that's on the top shelf. She can usually reach things herself, but the last person to clean the closet was clearly taller and didn’t stop to think about putting the damn arrows so high that she couldn't reach.

"Need any help, doll?" She would've been scared if she didn’t recognize Percy's voice right away, and turning her head, she found him resting against the doorway and smiling at her.

Going back to looking at the shelf, she shakes her head. Ever since he helped her with that bookshelf, she has been avoiding him because the only thing she can think about when looking at him is him carrying that bookshelf and the way his shirt hugged his arms. Gods, she's probably red already.

In her sudden distraction, she doesn’t notice Percy stepping towards her until suddenly he's hoisting her on his arms, his hands wrapping around her waist as he raises her without any effort, and— yes, she can die already.

"Well? can you reach what you wanted now?" He asks, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

She's short-circuiting, and it takes her a long minute to actually remember what she was trying to get on the shelf before she finally reaches for the bag of arrows.

Then Percy sets her down on her feet again, she's afraid he'll be able to see how flustered she he is, but if he does, he doesn’t show it as he simply smiles at her. "Alright, need anything else?"

And when she shakes her head, he simply nods and walks away, not even noticing that he left her speechless and blushing furiously while she hugged the bag to her chest.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he used her for push ups

it's briefly after they start dating, and she has pretty much forgotten about the other two incidents, or at least she has tried to. Sometimes, it's hard to stop herself from shamelessly checking him out, especially when he's training.

Right now, when she finally finishes with her training, she goes to find him and he jogs towards her once his eyes find hers, pressing a kiss against her temple when he's close. "Hey, pretty girl. I'm almost finished here."

she nods, and she's about to suggest they go do something together after training, when Clarisse's voice cuts through the moment. "Hey, Jackson! whoever does push-ups for longer?"

They do this often after training, always competing against eachother in whatever way they can think of. So it's no surprise when Percy immediately accepts. "Oh, You're on."

And then, he's dropping into a plank position with ease, as if it's just another part of his training routine.

y/n rolls her eyes playfully while Clarisse and him start doing push-ups at an absurd pace. But she goes to sit down with the other campers that are watching, her eyes never leaving Percy— totally not paying attention to the way Percy's shirt sticks to his back or how his arms flex everytime he pushes himself off the ground. Nope. Not at all.

Clarisse is strong, she's probably the only one that's able to match Percy's energy, so she manages herself just fine for a long moment. But being exposed to that much sun and the pace of those push-ups, it's no wonder her arms start shaking slightly even if she's still not giving up.

But Percy notices she's growing tired and he smirks, barely winded. "Honestly, La Rue, this is way too easy." He tells her, and y/n knows he's already plotting something just by the look of amusement on his face.

And that's when his gaze shifts to her, and she's already looking at him because— come on, of course she was looking at him while he did those stupid push-ups, can't blame her.

But Percy's smirk widens when he notices the way her eyes drop to his arms as if she can't help it. She really can't.

Clarisse, completely oblivious to this exchange, snorts while she tries to push herself up again. "What? are you going to do them one-handed?"

Percy's sea-green eyes are fixated on y/n, twinkling with something very dangerous as he briefly replies to Clarisse. "Have a better idea." and then, he supports himself with one hand to pat his back with the other. "Come here, pretty girl."

She blinks rapidly, suddenly surprised. "What?"

"You heard me, doll, I need the extra weight." He replies simply, patting again as if he doesn’t find anything odd with his request.

This man is about to make her combust, she's sure of it as she takes a sharp breath and moves to straddle his back. Because, let's be honest, there's no way she can say no to him.

Percy barely reacts to the added weight. Like at all. Even Clarisse is surprised, panting and trying to keep up with the push-ups. "What the hell, Jackson?"

And y/n? she is losing her mind.

And Percy knows this, because he simply laughs, voice enterely too smug. "Impressed, doll?"

She's, in fact, extremely impressed but she won't admit it. "No."

But obviously, she remains impressed through the whole thing, especially when Clarisse finally drops to the ground and he's able to do five more efortless push-ups before he finally stops.

Yeah, she's definitely impressed. And flustered.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the time he scared some boy away

Even months after, after they had finally started dating, she still finds herself utterly surprised in those moments where he shows his strenght. She just never got used to it.

Right now, for example.

They are spending their day at Central Park. She's chatting with Piper while they wait for the guys to come back with their coffee orders, when a guy suddenly walks towards them.

"Hey." he smiles confidently at her, not even acknowledging Piper. "You're very pretty and uh- I was wondering if I could get your number."

Alright, straightforward— she blinks at him, surprised while trying to process his words. He's at most decent-looking, tall and broad shoulders but he is no Percy. And her only interest is Percy.

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend." and of course the dude looks at her in disbelief, as if he's expecting her to say she's lying. She fights the urge to roll her eyes at him as she points at Percy.

The guy follows her hand towards the coffee cart where Percy stands, chatting with Jason while they wait for their orders. Her boyfriend is casually slouched against the cart, looking effortlessly relaxed with a cap over his messy hair and a loose shirt he had thrown on in a hurry in the morning.

Gods, he's so effortlessly handsome.

Piper has to actually nudge her with her elbow because she's already so distracted staring that she forgets about the weird dude trying to get her number.

"That guy?" He sounds almost pitying, y/n can almost see Piper rolling her eyes. "Come on, pretty, you surely can do better than that"

She immediately furrows her eyebrows, Who does this guy thinks he is? he did not just—

Before she can even think about a surely offensive reply, a familiar arm wraps around her shoulders, tugging her back against a solid, warm chest. Percy. She knows him by scent alone, and when she tilts her head back to look at him, she's able to catch the glint of amusement in his beautiful eyes.

"Everything good around here, pretty girl?" He asks, pressing a kiss against her temple before he looks at the guy in front of her, an underlying shine of challenge on his eyes.

And, oh— oh! he's flexing.

It isn't too obvious, but she can feel it, the subtle kind of flex that makes the veins on his forearms stand out a little, the fabric of his sleeve tightening slightly as the firm biceps wrap around her shoulders, his other arm sneaks around her waist. She could die happy right there.

The stupid guy in front of her definitely notices too, because his eyes drop towards Percy's forearm curved protectively around her, his smirk slowly disappearing as Percy's own grin only gets bigger.

"Need something, man?" Her boyfriend asks, acting completely innocent as if he doesn’t know exactly what he's doing.

The guy barely manages to shake his head before he's walking away in defeat, his friends are already waiting for him while they snicker and tease him about his fail on getting her number.

"Percy, man, I think I've fallen in love with you." Jason tells him, blinking at him in amusement.

y/n is inclined to agree with him, but she's not going to admit it out loud, instead she turns to him with an almost accusatory look. "You did that on purpose."

Percy shrugs, passing her a cup of coffee as he tries to hide his mischievous smile. "Maybe, a little."

She groans, covering her flustered face with her hands. "Gods, you're so hot." she admits quietly, only for him to hear.

Percy chuckles delighted, wrapping his arm around her waist again, strong arms pushing her closer to him as they walk behind Piper and Jason.

"I think I need to sit down. My legs feel weak." she tells him before she can process her words.

"That's the caffeine hitting, doll." he presses his lips against her temple once again, sweet and comforting.

"No, that's your fault."

Percy only laughs, and yes, she's definitely blushing.

[fireinmoonshot]

about love | joaquin torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin thinks taking the engagement ring he's bought for you on a mission with him is a good idea – it's definitely safer with him than it is anywhere else, right? Well... until he loses it. Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries (a bump on the head) Word Count: 4k A/N: Had this idea at work yesterday and thought it was so Joaquin so I had to write it. I'm so happy with how it turned out. Thank you for all the love on my Joaquin fics so far – I have more coming for sure, I have so many ideas in a note on my phone, as well as the requests you guys have sent in! 💗

“Woohoo! That was awesome!” Joaquin yells, his feet finally hitting the ground after being airborne for what feels like hours. He misses the feeling of flying already. “Did you see me?” He asks Sam, walking towards him.

Sam has just landed not too far away from him and is already sighing at the sound of Joaquin’s voice. “See what?”

“When I did the thing with the thing! And then I did the other thing and bam! He was falling out of the sky! I saw him land in the water and it did not look like a nice landing!” Joaquin explains, in probably the poorest possible terms.

For a second, Sam just stares at Joaquin. How is this the man that he’s basically picked to be the Falcon to his Cap? “Nothing about what you just said makes sense, bro.”

“Yeah, it does!” Joaquin insists. “I did the thing!”

Sam and Joaquin had been expecting this mission for weeks. Everything pointed towards things turning into a fight, but the location and time had been left to chance and eventually, things had turned out just as they’d expected. They hadn’t expected having to fight over the water, though. Sam was just glad things hadn’t turned out the way that they had the last time they’d fought over the top of the ocean.

“Just… go and get checked out by a medic,” Sam orders – the Air Force had been standing by, ready to help if Sam and Joaquin needed it. They luckily hadn’t. “You almost got hit out there. Don’t forget that I saw that.” 

Joaquin grins to himself as he watches Sam walk off, holding his shield by his side. “Come on, that was awesome, bro! And it was an almost hit – they didn’t even graze me!” 

“Tell that to your girlfriend!” Sam yells in reply.

At the reminder of you, Joaquin pauses. The ring. His hands move to the pocket where he’d placed the ring box before the mission and his heart drops into his stomach when he finds it empty.

“No, no, no, no…” 

Joaquin checks every other pocket in his suit, trying to keep hopeful for as long as possible, but it becomes clear very quickly that the ring box is no longer in his suit or even on his body at all anymore. This was not good… if it fell out during the mission… over the ocean… there was no way he was getting it back. Oh, he's so screwed.

He’d been planning to propose to you for over a month now but it had taken him a while to find the perfect ring. He’d scoured the internet and just about every jewellery shop in the city to find one he knew you’d love. When he and Sam left for the mission, he knew he had to take it with him. There was no other choice. What if his apartment was broken into while he was away and they stole the ring? Or worse, what if you came over to his place to get something of yours that you’d left behind and found it? It’d ruin the surprise.

In hindsight, Joaquin realises that maybe the ring would’ve been safer at home… instead of where it likely is now, sitting on the bottom of the ocean or… swallowed by a whale or something… poor whale…

The excitement at the success of the mission is long gone by the time he trudges his way to the medic, who is waiting to see him. He removes his suit slowly and carefully, all the while hoping that the ring will suddenly appear in one of the pockets, but it never does.

Later, as Joaquin sits in his hotel room, he can’t tear his eyes away from the confirmation email he’d received when he’d ordered your ring. It’d ended up being one he found online, but with a few custom alterations to make it more you. The ring was one of a kind, like he’d intended for it to be, because so were you. It made him even more disappointed that he’d never end up getting to give it to you. And now he had to fork out even more money to find a replacement. He knows nothing would ever live up to the original, even if you loved it.

His phone buzzes in his hands and your contact photo pops up on the screen, one he’d taken of you when you hadn’t been looking at him. He’s quick to accept the call, already feeling comforted by your voice the second you say hello.

“How did it go!?” You ask, voice full of joy. “I saw some footage on the TV. You guys looked so awesome out there. It’ll never get old, seeing you flying in that suit, even if it kinda fills me with dread that something might happen to you.”

Joaquin laughs softly. “Thanks, angel. It was good. We won.”

Just by his short reply you can tell that something is wrong. Even though you’re in an entirely different state and you can’t see his face, the fact that he’d not excitedly recounting every single detail of the battle to you says more than his words ever could.

“Joaquin, what’s wrong?” You’re not one to beat around the bush.

“Huh? Nothing’s wrong, angel. I’m just tired.”

“You’re usually so excited after a successful mission and today you sound the complete opposite. Did something happen?” A thought enters your mind. “Wait, did you get hurt? Are you in the hospital?” He hears shuffling on the other end of the line. “Have they got you hopped up on some kind of painkillers?”

Joaquin can’t help but smile a little. “Angel, stop trying to put your shoes on and pack a bag at the same time. I’m not in the hospital, I’m in my hotel room. And I’m not on any painkillers. The medics checked me after the mission and gave me the all clear.”

You pause. “How did you know I was trying to put my shoes on and pack a bag?”

“Cause I know you, that’s how,” he smiles to himself. “You get the thought in your head that I’m hurt and you’re already looking up flights. I’d be the same way if things were reversed, believe me.”

Back in your apartment, you kick off the one shoe you’d managed to get on and sit back down on the couch. “So why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Joaquin sighs. How can he tell you what’s wrong? That he’s actually devastated cause he lost the ring he was planning on proposing to you with? He can’t. He hates lying, especially when it comes to you, and now he’s being forced to lie to you because of his own mistake.

“I promise nothing is wrong, angel,” Joaquin tries to make his voice sound less sad. “I really am just tired. It takes a lot out of you, fighting in a battle like that. It’s one thing to be flying in a plane but to actually be the one flying… it’s a lot. I’ve still got a lot to get used to. I’m just ready for a solid twelve hour sleep.”

“Oh.” You’re not really convinced but for Joaquin’s sake, you decide to drop it. You can already tell that you’re not going to get anything else out of him. “Well, I suppose I’ll let you get your rest then if you’re that tired. You’re flying home tomorrow, right?”

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, my flight leaves at… four? Six? Something around then. Thank you for calling though, angel. Really. I always love getting to hear your voice before I fall asleep.”

You smile at the way you can audibly hear the happiness in his voice. “Any time, Joaquin. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You get a good night sleep and I’ll text you in the morning. I love you.”

“Love you too, angel.”

With that, you end the call and Joaquin groans, letting his phone fall onto the bed and his head back onto the pillow behind him. Instead, though, his head bashes rather hard onto the wall behind the bed. He grunts in pain, a hand going to the back of his head to rub the sore spot. Yeah… that’s gonna leave a bump for sure… he probably deserves it…

It’s a few hours later and Joaquin is finally about to give up on staying awake and finally try and get some sleep when he hears a knock on the door of his room. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to pull himself up from the bed, his whole body aching from the activity of the day. When he pulls open his door, he’s more than surprised to see Sam on the other side.

“Listen, bro, I’m way too tired to have a post-mission debrief and drinks or something, so can we just do this in the morning?” Joaquin asks, already knowing Sam would prefer it.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Sam says. “Can I come in?”

Joaquin stifles a yawn and steps aside to let Sam into the room, closing the door behind him. Sam takes a seat at the small table and chairs over by the window and Joaquin takes the seat opposite him, not wanting to be disrespectful by sitting on the bed like he would much prefer to do – the chairs are not padded and not comfortable in the slightest.

“What’s up, Sam?” Joaquin questions, leaning back against the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sam shoves a hand into the pocket of his jacket and removes a small blue velvet box and slides it across the table towards Joaquin. He almost jumps out of his seat at the sight of it, instantly snatching it up and opening it. He sighs in relief as he sees the ring, safely inside the box, completely unharmed. 

“Bro, what the hell!?” Any of the exhaustion that was in Joaquin’s body is gone as he looks across the table at Sam. “Did you send someone to retrieve this or something? A dive team? How did you even know that I’d lost it?”

Sam smiles a little at the younger boys excitement. “Maybe this might teach you to secure your valuables a little better, hey?” He shakes his head. “It didn’t even make it to the ocean, Joaquin. It fell out of your pocket before we were even in the air. I saw it, picked it up. Decided to keep it safe.”

He knew that if he’d given it back to Joaquin then that it would be all he’d focus on for the mission. He’d be berating himself so strongly that he’d almost lost the ring that he wouldn’t be able to give his full attention to the mission. Sam had watched Joaquin get hurt before and if he had his way, he’d never see it again. 

“And it took you this long to give it back to me!? Bro, do you realise what this is? How important this is? How could you keep this from me?” Joaquin’s voice is raised but he isn’t angry – he’s still angry at himself for losing it in the first place. He’s more than grateful to Sam for keeping it safe, but now that he’d lied to you over the phone about it… all of that could have been avoided if Sam had given it to him sooner.

Sam sighs and leans back in his chair. “Damn, these things are uncomfortable,” he mutters. “Listen, your girl sent me a text like an hour ago. She was asking if you were okay or if you were hurt, if anything went badly in the mission, cause she said she called you and you were acting all weird. I only remembered then that I even had it. I put it in my suit to keep it safe during the mission. I realised that the reason you must’ve been acting weird was cause you realised that you’d lost it.”

“And it took you an hour to come down two floors to give it back?”

“Nah, it took me an hour of thinking to decide whether to give it back to you tonight or give it back to you in the morning, Joaquin,” Sam admits. “This… this is a serious thing you’re planning on doing. You know that, right? I know it’s not my place but I just… I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Joaquin furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I know what I’m doing, Sam.”

“That came out wrong,” Sam huffs, then tries again. “I’m sure you have thought this out, but I just wanted to check in. You’re a public figure now. People know you’re the Falcon, they see you coming out on missions with me. People might target you now in an attempt to get to me. Your life is in more danger than it ever has been before. Even when you were serving in the Air Force full time. You sure your girl knows that too?”

One thing that Joaquin has always been confident about with you is that you knew the risks of dating him. You’d started dating him back when he was in the Air Force, long before he became Falcon. Throughout it all, you’d stuck by his side, even when he wondered if you wouldn’t. When people started commenting on his Instagram photos saying rather unsavoury things, or leaving rude comments about you, he wondered if it would scare you away from him. But it never did. You were completely loyal to him and he knew it. If you were affected by his job as the Falcon that much, you would’ve ended things long ago.

But you didn’t. You’d started making plans to move in with him instead, as soon as the lease on your apartment was up in two months time. You’d come over more often, spent more nights at his apartment. You’d made changes to your own life to accommodate his ever changing schedule. You were in this for real.

“She knows,” Joaquin nods. “I wouldn’t be asking her to marry me if she didn’t.”

Sam lets out a breath. “Okay, well… good. I just… I wanted to check. Make sure you weren’t rushing into things or asking her for some reason other than love.”

Joaquin smiles a little. He’s known for a long time that Sam is full of heart but this has reminded him. Despite all the sarcastic comments and jokes they make, Sam probably has a bigger heart than Joaquin himself. 

“Everything I do when it comes to her is about love, Sam, I promise you that.”

Not long after, Sam excuses himself and leaves the room, leaving Joaquin alone with the ring. The one he thought he’d lost forever, now sitting here on the table in front of him. Not a scratch or a lick of damage anywhere on it. Sam had done a good job taking care of it.

He crosses the room to grab his phone, still sitting on the bed where he’d left it, and sends you a quick text. Angel, you still awake?

Your reply comes almost instantly. You okay?

Joaquin sits down on the edge of his bed, eyes resting on the ring box on the table, and smiles. You got a spare thirty minutes to call so I can tell you all about how badass I was in the mission today? 

During the plane journey home, Joaquin decides that he needs to propose sooner rather than later. He doesn’t want to risk losing the ring again or something else happening to it. It’s why, when he gets back to his apartment, he calls you and asks if he can come over to your apartment the next night – he’ll bring some takeout for dinner. He’s more than relieved when you say yes, telling him you can’t wait.

But then the night comes and Joaquin is sitting beside you on your couch, your now empty takeout containers sitting on the coffee table in the centre of the room. He feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest with how nervous he is, but he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at holding it together.

Joaquín takes a deep breath and turns to face you, clasping his hands together in his lap to force himself not to prematurely reach for the ring box in his jacket pocket. “So, I think I owe you an explanation for why I was weird on that phone call two days ago.”

You look at him, eyebrows raised. “Do you? I thought you were just tired. You ended up calling me back and talking about the mission with me so I thought it was all sorted.”

“It is sorted, but… well, I kind of lied to you in the first call,” he winces a little, hating to have to admit it to you even though he knows you’re not going to care once he explains everything properly. “Something happened after the mission and it really messed with my head but I couldn’t tell you about it then.”

He can see by the look on your face that you’re concerned about what he’s going to say. He hates worrying you like this and he doesn’t mean to drag it out so much but he’s also so nervous about what he’s about to do that he can’t help but stall.

“Joaquin, just tell me. Please.”

Your voice is small, full of a sudden fear, and just the simple act of hearing that is the encouragement that Joaquin needs to push him forward to do this, to tell you the truth and pull the ring box out of his pocket with a long, deep breath. 

“I took this with me on the mission to make sure nothing happened to it, but after the mission I realised that it had fallen out of my suit and I’d lost it,” Joaquin starts. His heart is in his throat at admitting all this to you and thinking about what is coming. “Turns out Sam had actually picked it up when it fell out prior to the mission. He came and gave it back to me after you texted him that you were worried about me.”

At seeing the ring box in his hands, tears immediately come to your eyes. This was what you were so worried about? You were so scared about what Joaquin was about to say, worried that some of your deep fears might be coming true, but instead it was your dreams that were coming true. 

You watch as Joaquin slowly moves from sitting on the edge of the couch to kneeling on the floor in front of you. He flips the ring box open, finally letting you lay eyes on the ring inside of it, and a sob erupts from you.

“I was gonna try and do this in a better way,” Joaquin chuckles. “I had all these ideas for plans of things to do, but in the end I decided that I just wanted it to be between us. I didn’t want anyones eyes on us while I did this, cause this is our moment.” He’d almost booked several restaurants, even almost booked flights to Paris to propose in front of the Eiffel Tower, but this was better than any of the plans he could’ve come up with. 

“I told Sam when he came to talk to me after you texted him that everything I do when it comes to you is about love,” he continues with a shaky breath. “You are the love of my life, angel. You have been ever since I first met you and I intend on loving you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me.” The words, which Joaquin had expected to be difficult to say when the time came, flow out of him with so much ease it surprises him. “So, I suppose what I should finally ask, since I know you’re thinking about how much you wish I would just ask the question and stop talking about everything else… is… will you marry me?”

You’re on the floor in front of him before Joaquin can even blink and in his next breath, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your body to his. He laughs, a little shocked, as he wraps one of his arms around you, still holding the ring in the other hand. He can tell that you’re crying but he already knows they’re happy tears without having to see them. 

“So… is that a yes?” He asks, grinning.

“Of course it’s a yes!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. The look on his face makes you fall in love with him all over again. The way he’s smiling at you sets butterflies off in your stomach. “Will you put the ring on me?”

You extend your hand and Joaquin wastes no time in removing the ring from the box and sliding it onto your ring finger. He can’t keep smiling and his face is starting to hurt but he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with a sore face from smiling forever if it means seeing you this happy. The fact that he is the reason behind this smile makes him smile even harder.

“It’s so beautiful, Joaquin,” you marvel, unable to take your eyes off of it. 

“Just like the woman wearing it,” he says, unable to help himself. “I’m just glad I didn’t actually lose it in the middle of the ocean. I was just about ready to start a dive team to find it before Sam gave it back.”

You meet his eyes and laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot, Joaquin Torres.”

“I might be, but at least I’m your idiot,” he grins.

With a smile, you lean forward and press your lips to his, wrapping one of your hands around the back of his neck. He kisses you back instantly, arms wrapping around you to hold you close. When your fingers make their way into his hair, though, he grunts a little in pain as they brush against the bump on the back of his head. He’d forgotten about that.

You pull away, eyes concerned. “Are you hurt? Did you get hurt on the mission?” 

Joaquin is quick to confirm that he isn’t. “I hit my head when I was in the hotel… this is so embarrassing to admit,” he laughs softly. “When I was still sad cause I thought I’d lost the ring, I leant back and hit the wall… a little harder than I intended to. I guess it left a bump… but it doesn’t mean you have to stop kissing me, y’know…”

Thankfully, you accept his poor reasoning for his sore head and kiss him again, your fingers moving out of his hair and instead resting on his shoulders. He’s already counting down the days till his head is fully healed – he loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

After that, you only break apart for air when you really need to.

“So… this means I can call you my fiancée now…” Joaquin mutters against your lips.

“Oh, that’s true… fiancé… I like how that sounds,” you hum in reply.

“I’m one step closer to being able to call you my wife now,” he says, smiling.

“Hold your horses, Joaquin,” you laugh, pulling away from him despite your desire to stay as close to him as humanly possible. “Let me be a fiancée for a while, okay? Now,” you lean back against the couch. “Tell me all about how you lost this beautiful ring of mine and how it happened to come into Sam’s possession… and then we’re gonna call him and thank him for keeping it safe when my fiancé couldn’t.”

Joaquin laughs, leaning against the couch beside you and reaching down to take your hand in his, his fingers spinning the new ring around on your finger. “You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?”

“Oh, baby, even our great-great-grandchildren will know about this.”

[ki2rins]

⟢ SUGARBOT - pjs

eleven - phone call

warnings: petnames (good girl) , mention of being cheated on, just yn spilling her guts out about her insecurities in the written part.

written wc: 1523 words

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the phone buzzed quietly on the nightstand, loud enough to disrupt your slumber. groggily, you reached for your phone and answered the call. “hello?” you mumbled, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“hello pretty, enjoyed your sleep?” an unfamiliar voice flowed to your ears, like a tune you had never heard before.

wait this cant be happening…

you sat upright immediately, your heart suddenly racing. your eyes scanned the caller id, and there his name showed “jjongie ෆ”. you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, but no, there it was, the name, the phone call you hadnt expected to see on your screen.

at that moment, the unfamiliar voice spoke up again, breaking the silence. “you awake yet, sweet girl?” his voice had you in a chokehold, your throat tensed up and nothing came out of your mouth when you tried voicing something out.

“um hi…im awake.” you muttered out softly after clearing your throat, dry from both your words and from your sleepiness. your voice felt fragile while your heart beat faster than usual, anticipating what he’ll say next.

the guy on the other side of the line was panicking, jay’s usual calm and composed demeanour faded away. he was like a middle schooler calling his crush for the first time. each word that came out of his mouth spilled out with much consideration, not wanting to scare the poor girl that just woke up.

“so…um i just wanted to wake you up and um…make sure you were well rested before doing your assignments again.” jay quickly said, stammering out of pure nervousness. he tried treating it like one of his daily business calls, but how so when your presence is on the other line?

there was a pause as he hesitated, not hearing a response from you. “im sorry. im pretty sure you werent expecting me to really call you.”

“no jjongie, its okay. its nice hearing from you, makes me more certain that i havent been talking to some random stranger.”

hearing those words made jay’s heart skip a beat. maybe not just a beat. he was hundred percent sure it skipped a couple of beats. you called him jjongie - the nickname you chose to call him by. the specially curated nickname that touched the depths of his heart.

a warm smile spread across jay’s face, the tension in his voice easing just slightly. “thank you, sweet thing. you dont know how much that means to me.” he murmured, his voice softer now. “just didnt want you to overwork yourself. must be odd hearing this from a workaholic huh?”

you chuckled hearing him bring up the joke you made earlier. “come on! you arent letting it go huh!”

you flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, not from confusion or awkwardness anymore, but from the undeniable connection that had been building between you both. you were sure this wasnt just infatuation, you were straight up falling for him. but there was still that underlying sense of disbelief - how could someone just be so nice towards you?

you had your fair share of relationships - puppy love, situationships, talking stages, exes, been there, done that. you ended your last relationship with a classmate named jiwoo six months ago, who unexpectedly cheated on you. at first, he treated you like he was head over heels for you, downbad even, comparable to how jay is currently treating you, which makes you so wary of him, and any hidden intentions he had.

but something about jay just feels different. his genuine care for your well-being felt completely unforced, like something you hadnt felt before, not even from your three close friends.

“are you still there?” jay’s voice broke through your thoughts, warm and a little concerned.

“yea, sorry…just thinking of something.” you replied softly, your voice trailing off as the weight of your thoughts settled in.

“well, care to share whats on your mind then? maybe you’ll feel better after you let it out.” jay said, his tone gentle yet persistent, almost like he genuinely wanted to know what was bothering you.

you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much you wanted to reveal. but something about how he phrased his words just made him seemed like a safe space to share whatever was weighing on your mind without judgement.

“its just…i dont know. i guess this whole thing just caught me off guard? wasnt really expecting someone or you, to suddenly come into my life and treat me like the greatest gift of all time.” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “i cant lie, i have been treated like this before and after that i just get crushed into gravel, like i was nothing to them. so i guess…im just scared that this ‘whole being nice to me’ thing is just too good to be true. i dont know what you want from me, jjongie. and thats the part i cant figure out, and it scares me.”

there was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a second, you wondered if you had said too much, overshared or even scared him off with the sudden confession of your insecurities. but then jay spoke, his voice steady and reassuring.

“dont be scared, pretty.” that simple sentence from jay could easily sweep you off from your feet, but the fear still stays. but what he says next really stemmed the feelings you have for him.

“heres the thing and i want you to hear this clearly okay? i dont want anything from you, little girl. if i demand something from you, the only thing i want and the only thing that could satisfy me is your happiness. im not here to use you or throw you aside. im not perfect and im not pretending to be, but what i can promise is that im here for you no matter what. for the real you. i want to see you, all of you. no games, no fake feelings and no hidden agendas.”

his honesty hit you like a truck, and you couldnt help but feel a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“i know its hard to trust me since we just started talking to each other, but im determined to win your trust. i want you for you and i’ll show you that i mean it. im not going anywhere sweet thing. when youre ready, i’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

you took in a shaky breath, feeling the knot in your chest slowly begin to loosen. for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down. not all the way, but maybe enough to enjoy this adoration from someone without guilt.

“thank you, jay.” you whispered, the words almost feeling too small for what you were really feeling. “i…i want to believe that. i want-” you paused, unsure if you should really share your true feelings. but a surge of confidence flowed through your body as if it brought the words out of your mouth.

“i want to believe in you.”

there was a soft exhale on the other end of the line, and then jay’s voice, even more gentle now, filled the space between you two.

“you dont have to rush it, sweet thing. like what i always say, you can take all the time you need. im not going anywhere.” his words were soft, softer than the hundred percent cotton pillow you were currently laying on. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your breath, the calmness in his voice almost making it easier to relax, tempting to make you fall back to dreamland if you could.

“im scared” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “but…i think im starting to trust you.”

upon hearing your words, jay felt his heart warmed up instantly. hearing how you could open up and slowly trust him just made him felt so at ease.

“im honored, pretty, i really am.” jay poured all his sincerity into those six words. “we’ll figure it out together, at your pace.”

your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, and for the first time in awhile, you allowed yourself to believe in the possibility of something pure. for once, you felt that you could let things unfold in their own time.

“thank you.” you whispered again, the words feeling more meaningful this time. “thank you for being patient with me.”

“always, pretty. any place, anytime, just for you.”

the night went on, filled with chatter, laughter and just pure bliss from the both of you. the connection between you two felt more genuine as each word and sentence flowed effortlessly, no longer guarded but completely honest. the uncertainty that once lingered in the air had slowly dissipated, replaced by a warmth that you hadnt expected but welcomed nonetheless.

maybe it was too soon to say, too soon to fully trust as well, but in that moment, you didnt care about anything but just him, and he too, didnt care about anything but just you.

————————————————— rin's yap: my gosh i didnt expect myself to pour my heart and soul into this written part...but really hope yall could see the pure adoration jay and yn has for each other <3

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