#it felt like we were all sitting around a campfire

[demonicseries]

Ao3 is down so people on tiktok live are reading fanfic aloud

[drabblesandimagines]

Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

--

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were. 

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite a difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

--

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

--

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

--

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

 “Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

--

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.  

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

--

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.  

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

--

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

 “No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

 “Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[obxsummer]

good things fall apart // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: post-pogue reunion calls for campfire conversations, more walking, and PhDs in thiefology. jj asks you about your wishes and a near mercenary encounter has you on the run again (to no surprise ever).

warnings: usual obx drama, nothing too exciting

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

--

“I think next time we take a trip, we should maybe plan ahead.”

John B’s obvious statement made you burst into laughter. The lot of you were crowding around the campfire that was still trucking along through the day and night, conversation flowing to pass the time as you tried to come up with a game plan on your next move.

You were settled against JJ’s chest, his legs caging you in on each side as you leaned into him. His arms hung loosely around your chest and his back pressed into a log that he and Pope had managed to roll up the dune and situate as a seating option for your temporary setup. Neither of you wanted to separate from the other for as long as you could, so you kept close. 

“We can stay in a hotel next time,” Sarah offered, smiling brightly at the idea. “Preferably one with a shower.”

Kie’s face turned up in disgust. “Oh yeah, I smell awful.”

“I smelled myself today,” John B grimaced in reaction. It was no secret you guys needed fresh clothes and a hot shower for sure.

“You’re not the only one who smelled you,” Sarah added, pinching the boy in his side as the group laughed with her.

Rhythmically, JJ’s fingers moved back and forth on your arm, the motion lulling you to sleep. “Hey, uh, you know what’s a good name for a baby? JJ.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but didn’t stop the small smile forming on your face. “The last thing we need are two of you running around.”

“What baby?” Cleo asked, eyeing you particularly. You shook your head slightly, letting your eyes drift to Sarah as a hint. 

The blonde girl was much more enthusiastic to share the news, having come to terms on her own with it. She reached out for John B, gripping his fingers with hers as realization fell across Pope’s face. “No freaking way.”

“A Poguelet?” Cleo asked with a huge smile on her face, sitting up in Pope’s arms as the couple descended into chaos.

“You?” Pope pointed at Sarah but he was staring at John B in shock. “You’re gonna be a freaking dad!”

Your brother’s arms went up in the air in celebration. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“A little baby!” Cleo scrambled out of Pope’s embrace to press her ear against Sarah’s stomach dramatically, like she would be able to hear anything. Her lips continued to move as she spoke into Sarah’s dress, promising that she would be the favorite aunt if she had anything to do with it. You laughed at the sight, snuggling closer into JJ who was happy to tighten his hold on you. 

“You’re so ill equipped for that!”

“I know, but it’s totally okay!”

“Congrats, holy shit!”

Your gaze moved slightly to the left where Rafe was lounging. It was hard to miss that he kept glancing over and it was even harder to admit that you kinda felt bad that he was finding out about Sarah’s pregnancy in this way. 

You couldn’t imagine if John B found out you were pregnant from an overheard conversation and not you directly telling him. Which, sore subject and all, but your opinion still stood. 

You sighed, biting your lip in consideration before shifting out of JJ’s warm grip. He looked up at you expectantly. “Be right back, okay?”

He nodded, accepting the small kiss you gave him before you stepped away from the group to sit in front of Rafe. Not too close, of course, but enough that only the two of you would hear. Your fingers tugged at your lip and you contemplated how to even begin the conversation. 

There was a lot more to your “relationship” with Rafe than the two of you even noticed. Despite all of the hard feelings and trauma, you were both broken souls that were laid bare to the other at some point in time. Rafe didn’t realize it, but he’d spilled more of his deepest darkest thoughts to you when you were at their house. He found comfort in that. And whether you realized it or not, you’d been at your lowest in his presence, even if he was part of the cause. 

“Um, thank you. For what you did earlier,” You started, your fingers picking at your shorts. “I’d probably be fish food if it wasn’t for you.”

Rafe glanced over at Sarah, a moment of silence passing before he answered. “Yeah, I uh, things might be different right now with me and Sarah but I didn’t want to stand by knowing I could’ve prevented that for someone else.”

The answer caught you off guard slightly. Rafe’s relationship with Sarah was not a good one, in any way, shape, or form. Maybe at one point it had been, but you’d yet to see it. It had only gotten worse since she’d returned with John B and when Rafe found out Ward had died, he’d been downright cruel to her. 

Sarah had done her best to talk to him, especially when Rose declined all of her calls and Wheezie’s number was suddenly no longer available. She was rightfully scared of Rafe and his unpredictable anger, which had ended most of their conversations before they even happened. 

“I can’t speak for her, but I think she would appreciate you trying to talk to her… in a calm manner,” You emphasized and looked at him pointedly. 

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Yeah, well she should’ve thought about that before she let Dad die. She chose John B, that was her decision, not mine.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing it wasn’t your place to explain what happened in El Dorado. It wasn’t like Rafe would understand anyway, since he didn’t seem to listen to anyone but himself. You were trying. Despite the screaming feeling in your chest that wanted you to run, you were trying. If you didn’t make peace with what happened, it would continue to have a hold on you. Not saying Rafe deserved (or would receive) any forgiveness, but acceptance was part of the grieving process and you owed yourself freedom from it all. 

“Rafe, look at me.”

He nearly winced at the authority your tone held, the sound unfamiliar to him when it came from you. He looked up to see you staring at him with what he assumed was sympathy. You, sympathizing with him after all he’d done. 

“Your dad is not here anymore, and I know that’s hard to deal with. Trust me. But his hold over you, the way he manipulated you, it left with him. You don’t have to do anything for him. In fact, everything you do now, is for yourself. Just… think about that, okay?”

You didn’t leave room for conversation after that and returned to JJ, feeling much lighter than you had in a long time.

--

Sometimes, it felt like all you guys did was walk. Or run, you were always running from something, too. And you know what, it was getting really annoying. Crossing the dunes of Morocco wasn’t on your bucket list at all, and the beating sun wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

You were trying to keep a positive attitude, but man, today was not your day.

“Look, all is not lost. Like, we got a bead on Groff, and he can lead us to the crown. Happily ever after, right?” JJ theorized as the two of you walked hand in hand, your arms swinging slightly between you as the group followed in your footsteps. 

You nearly laughed, “Oh, someone woke up on the right side of the bed today, huh?”

JJ rolled his eyes, playfully pushing into your side and nearly knocking you over before he pulled back on your hand to keep you upright. A shocked gasp left your mouth as you lost your footing before he stabilized you again, a laugh bubbling from his throat.

“Asshole,” You joked, bumping your hip with his.

“Hey,” He whined in faux annoyance. “You love me.”

You paused in your walk to face him. “You’re so lucky I do.” Shifting on your toes, you kissed him slowly, ignoring the complaints from your friends as JJ flipped them off in response. It was hard not to dismiss everything that had happened in the past 48 hours when you were all here, together and alive, safe and sound.

As long as everyone made it out of this, you could keep moving forward, one step at a time.

--

The walk across the dunes continued for what felt like hours (and likely was), before civilization came into view. Essaouira, Pope explained, was a major port city for Morocco. The landscape was a crowded one, with building after building stacked next to the other. 

“What’s the plan here?” You asked, glancing back at your brother who was keeping Sarah close with her evident exhaustion. Everyone was dehydrated, sore, tired, and in need of a refresher. 

“We locate the wharf and find Groff, yeah? That’s all we gotta do,” JJ said as you guys walked through the tunnel that opened into the bustling town, people flooding in all directions. 

Your eyes widened at the surplus of individuals moving about and you turned to JJ to see his shocked expression. “That might be a little harder than we thought.”

Pope scoffed next to you, his expression unamused. “You think?”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened before he took the step into the crowd and you reached your other hand back to grab ahold of Cleo’s, determined to keep the group together as you weaved your way through. 

It was overwhelming as the voices blended together, people shouting at you for money or items, hands grabbing on to your clothing before Cleo smacked them away with a disgruntled disapproval. 

“Babe, we gotta get out of here,” You huffed as someone else bumped into you causing you to stumble into JJ’s back. 

Pope must’ve overheard because he was suddenly taking the lead, JJ following in step with him to get out of the chaos to somewhere quieter. It didn’t take long before you found yourself staring up at a large statue of a man with a menacing sword, the stone carved with delicate details.

“Yo, that Murat,” Pope explained as everyone came to a stop. “The Barbary pirate. That’s the guy Groff was telling us about.”

“Holy shit,” John B mumbled as he looked up at the statue. “That’s him, the one who made the map to find the crown.”

“Which might be closer than we think. Let’s go.” JJ started following the path again which unfortunately was taking you all back into another crowded space. 

The heat was almost nauseating at this point and you hoped there would be a good opportunity to take a break here soon.

Apparently, Sarah was feeling the same way as John B eased her down on a nearby ledge. She was obviously pale and not feeling well. You separated from JJ as the group stopped walking and crouched next to the blonde girl. Your hands moved quickly to pull her hair off her neck and up into a bun, twisting a hair tie from your wrist to keep it out of her face. 

“Nauseous?” You asked with a knowing feeling. Nobody had really eaten a sustainable meal since you left Poguelandia, just snacks and bits of cooked fish that you’d caught. It wasn’t a surprise she didn’t feel good.

She barely nodded, letting out a deep breath and resting her head on the stone wall behind her. “Really nauseous.”

You looked at John B and almost laughed at the stress on his face. “Bee, she’s fine. Just needs some food and water, okay?”

John B nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Everything okay?” Kie asked as she hovered over you. 

“No-”

“I’m fine,” Sarah spoke over John B’s reply, her stubborn attitude peeking out as she made eye contact with you. You gave her a reassuring nod, hand resting on her shoulder as John B’s fingers brushed through her hair.

Turning, you looked up at JJ. “She needs something to eat and water.”

“Good luck with that, we don’t have any money,” Pope commented before Cleo glared at him and smacked his shoulder in reprimand.

“Don’t be so negative,” She hissed at him before addressing you again. “We can do it the old fashioned way.”

“A little five finger discount?” JJ followed her idea, his fingers waving teasingly. “I got my PhD in Thiefology.”

You shook your head at him, not necessarily pleased with the idea but realizing there really was no other option. “Guys, please be careful okay? We’re not in the States and-”

You were cut off by a $100 bill being shoved in your face.

Blinking in shock, you looked up to see Rafe holding out the crisp bill with an unamused look on his face. When you didn’t move to grab it, he gave you a pointed look and waved it slightly. “Baby steps?”

You nodded slightly, unsure what caused his sudden change but appreciating it nonetheless. Shock wearing off, your fingers pinched the money gently and he pulled back, resuming his uninterested appearance and stepping away from the group. Sarah looked at you, confused, to which you could only shrug. 

You let out a deep breath and offered the money back to Pope. “Essentials, yeah? The more the better.”

Money in hand, Pope nodded and recruited JJ, Kie, and Cleo to come with him. 

“Just hurry up with whatever dumb shit you guys do, alright?” Rafe called as your brother joined the group heading into the market, leaving you with Sarah. Apparently his momentarily kindness was spent as he yelled at them. 

You gave him a sharp glare to which he raised his hands in surrender, walking away to entertain himself for the time being. With a sigh, you put your attention back on Sarah, who was already looking at you. “What?”

“Are you okay?” She asked with a knowing look on her face. “Talking to him?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. It doesn’t help any of us if we’re tiptoeing around each other the whole time. So I tried to talk to him about it last night. Obviously, it didn't work fully but we’re getting there.” 

“Baby steps?” She repeated his words and you nodded.

Shrugging off your backpack, you tried to find any snacks within the mess of first aid supplies and JJ’s obnoxiously long charger cord (not that he needed that anymore, considering his phone was at the bottom of the ocean). Your fingers caught hold of a water bottle and you cracked it open for Sarah to drink.

She sipped slowly and closed her eyes to rest against the wall, her body finally beginning to cool off from the hike and beating sun. It didn’t take long before your group was back together, various food and clothing bundled in their hands.

Pope took your backpack to fill with the remainder of the items after passing them out, including some to Rafe who took them with a grunt of thanks. You bit into the fresh fruit aggressively, nearly devouring it in record timing.

Once everyone had eaten, you were moving again, weaving through the throngs of people in the direction of what you hoped would lead you to the wharf. 

“I think we lost Rafe,” Cleo commented as the group slowed and sure enough, the elder Cameron was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s fine, he’ll catch up,” Sarah dismissed with a wave of her hand, figuring if anything he left on his own with the intent of finding Groff without waiting on you all. “He probably has his passport, anyway. Better him than us.”

You nodded in agreement with her words, figuring Rafe would’ve prepared for this trip better than you all and considering he had a shit ton of money with him, he’d be fine. “Agree.”

“Where we going?” Kiara asked, her eyes falling on Cleo as she held the fresh clothes in her hands. She was itching to change and get the ruined fabric off her body. Plus, you all stood out like sore thumbs and switching outfits would help blend.

“Here.” John B waved you all over to an empty hut. “You guys go first, we’ll switch.”

You ducked inside with Cleo, Sarah, and Kie to change quickly before the boys swapped spots and you all continued on your journey to the wharf. The new attire was much more comfortable, and although still unfamiliar, you felt more in place than before. 

Eventually, you found yourself staring across hundreds of boats all packed in the tiny marine area. 

“Groff was on Hollis’s boat, so look for something fancy,” JJ offered as he scanned the vicinity for the familiar yacht. “I mean, it’s gotta be here. This is the only wharf in town.”

“I don’t know about no fancy boat, but that’s Terrance’s boat,” Cleo spoke up, her finger pointed across the way to one of the vessels that was docked. 

Pope wasn’t so convinced. “Are you sure?”

Cleo turned to him, unamused. “I grew up on that boat, man. I’d know that boat anywhere.”

“If his boat’s here, the Corsairs are here,” You added and crossed your arms over your chest. “Which also means Groff’s here.”

“And the one who killed Captain T.” Cleo smirked at the idea, her fingers already tracing the handle of her knife on her side.

“No lights, no motion. My vote is we go, see if we can use anything,” Kie said with a shrug.

You nodded in agreement and JJ took a step forward to move on before rushed disagreements fell from the others.

“No, wait. Not you. They know what you two look like,” Pope pointed to you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “Somebody else needs to go.”

“They know what half of us look like,” You countered. “Which leaves-”

“I’ll do it.”

You turned with wide eyes to Sarah, who’d spoken up. “What?”

She shrugged, confused by everyone’s reactions. “I’ll do it,” She repeated and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I can do things.”

“I believe you,” John B was quick to agree, though his tone said otherwise. 

“They don’t know what I look like. I’ll do it, I can do it.”

“I’m coming with you!” He called to the blonde girl before pointing at you as he started to walk. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckled as John B took off after her to catch up, mumbling to himself in the process. The rest of you quickly agreed to keep an eye out, you and JJ claiming the high ground (JJ copied Obi Wan, don’t you fret) which left Cleo, Pope, and Kie to monitor down below. 

“Not quite our dream vacation, huh?” You joked as you followed JJ up the path so you could gain a better view. 

JJ scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Warm weather, interesting views, an unfamiliar location. Sounds dreamy to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his wording. “Sure. Interesting views my ass. I love looking at stray animals and getting slammed into for trying to walk from Point A to Point B. And there’s no time for me and you.”

“Hey, rumour has it, if you find the Blue Crown, you get a wish,” He offered as you guys came to a stop up on a bridge. 

You leaned against the stone to face him with a smirk. “Oh, is that what they say now?” You asked, feigning your obliviousness. 

JJ shrugged, closing the gap between you with each step closer. “It’s the legend, after all,” He hummed, his thumb resting on your lip gently before he leaned down to kiss you. “I’ll wish for us to go on the best vacation ever, how ‘bout that? No interruptions… just me and my soon-to-be wife.”

The title made you shiver and you laughed quietly, eyes closing as you kissed him again with a satisfied hum. JJ’s fingers squeezed your sides gently as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Your back dug into the stone behind you, not that you were paying attention in the slightest to it.

“Let’s hear it, pretty girl. What’s your wish?” He asked quietly, his eyes staring into yours with interest. 

You smiled at him and shook your head. “If I tell you, it’s not gonna come true.”

JJ forced a pout into his lip when you wouldn’t play along. “But I shared mine!”

Shaking your head, you kissed him again, nearly folding when he bit your lip gently. “You’d vote for a truck, babe. Suspension, LED, nice rims. All the bells and whistles.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter if you’re not going to be in the passenger seat.”

You tilted your head at him. “Who said my name won’t be stitched in the seat in the first place?”

The two of you were blissfully unaware of what was going on behind you until JJ’s eyes drifted for a split second and he caught sight of someone familiar. “Hey, that’s one of the Corsairs that kidnapped me and brought me on the ship.”

You frowned when you caught sight of the man he was referring to. JJ moved quickly, taking the spare pipe he’d found to bang on the cannon that was there for show, the noise echoing around you. Pope looked up, before knocking on the barrel with the ore Cleo had found for their use.

Their attempt at signaling John B and Sarah was interrupted by Arabic chanting across the space. Tilting your head in confusion, you looked over at JJ, who was clearly annoyed.

“It’s the call to prayer,” He answered your unspoken question. 

It didn’t settle right in your chest that you had no way of alerting John B and Sarah of the man’s presence and you definitely needed to act quickly to fix it. Pope and Cleo stared back at you before you groaned to yourself. Kie, however, had different plans and explained something to the duo near her before giving you a thumbs up.

“What’s she doing?” You asked the rhetorical question, watching as the curly haired girl maneuvered her way through the crowd and purposefully bumped into the mercenary you were watching. When her hand landed on his arm, your jaw dropped. “Oh, shit.”

“Flirting with danger, nice move Kie,” JJ spoke quietly, keeping his head ducked down slightly so he was harder to see. You lounged above, trying to act as subtle as possible while keeping a close eye on your friend. 

Noticing the call to prayer had ended, Pope grabbed the ore to bang against the empty barrel, the sound bouncing its way around the area and hopefully reaching John B and Sarah.

“There they are!” You said as you caught sight of the couple moving about on the boat. Kie started waving her arms wildly as the mercenary began to leave her, clearly not buying her distraction any longer. “Shit, J, let’s go!”

You darted down the path you’d taken up here, taking the turns as fast as you could to get to your brother faster. JJ apparently wasn’t satisfied with your speed and moved around you. “Be careful!”

“I know!”

You watched, horrified, as he grabbed another nearby ore and managed to collide with the mercenary, causing the gunshot to miss completely. JJ winced shortly after, his hand grabbing his side and you cursed yourself for not even thinking about fixing his injury when he’d showed up on the beach yesterday. 

“Kie!” You called out for your friend as you ran over to JJ who was scooping the discarded gun off the ground. Pope was heading in the direction of Sarah and John B, but Cleo was nowhere to be found. Kiara accepted your hug instantly, her hands shaking with adrenaline as the two of you caught up to JJ. 

The question of Cleo’s location was answered with a car horn as the girl came flying around the bend in an open air truck. You laughed at her timing, all of you meeting and practically falling into the car with zero coordination.

“How did you get this?” Pope asked as he flung into the seat next to her. 

“I stole it!”

A scream almost slipped out as she took off and you nearly fell into Kiara completely, the two of you trying to balance with the sharp motion. JJ was on your other side, yelling at Cleo to floor it as if she wasn’t speeding already. 

When you made it out of the crowded wharf area, you breathed a sigh of relief and moved forward to shove your head between your brother and Sarah. “You guys okay?” You asked, your hand squeezing the back of John B’s neck. You nearly gagged at the sweat on his skin and wiped your hand off on his shirt with a huff.

“We’re okay, we’re okay,” Sarah repeated as she tried to catch her own breath, her fingers tangled with John B’s on the seat between them.

Sliding back into your seat, you whistled at the events that just occurred. “This is only the beginning, y’all. Hope you’re ready.”

JJ laughed next to you, his arm coming to rest across your shoulders to pull you into his side so he could kiss your temple. 

“Let’s do this shit.”

--

a/n: sorry she's a lil short but we're goin into the craziness 🥴

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part2!

multipart story! prev || next

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Y/N sat alone in her room, the soft glow of her laptop screen casting shadows across her face. She had made the decision to distance herself from Charles, but the weight of that choice pressed heavily on her heart. She opened her photo gallery, scrolling through the countless pictures she and Charles had taken over the years.

The first photo she stopped on was one of them as children, covered in mud after a day of playing in the rain. Charles' bright green eyes sparkled with joy, and Y/N's face was lit up with a wide grin. She remembered that day vividly.

"Come on, Y/N! Let's see who can make the biggest splash!" Charles had shouted, his laughter infectious.

They had spent hours running through puddles, completely carefree. Y/N wiped a tear from her cheek, her heart aching with the memory of simpler times.

The next photo was from their high school graduation. Charles had his arm around her, both of them wearing their caps and gowns, faces beaming with pride.

"We did it, Y/N!" he had said, his excitement palpable. "We’re finally free!" He hugged her and spun her around as Y/N giggled.

"Yeah, we are!" she had replied, feeling a mix of happiness and sadness at the thought of their lives changing.

She continued scrolling, each photo bringing back a flood of memories. There was the picture of them at his first major race win, where she had jumped into his arms in celebration. Another showed them sitting by the campfire during their family camping trip, the warmth of the flames reflected in their eyes as they shared stories late into the night.

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she relived each moment. Her silent sobs wrecked her delicate frame. She came across a photo from the night they had celebrated her birthday. Charles had surprised her with a cake, a beautiful pendant and they had spent the night dancing and laughing.

"Make a wish, Y/N/N!" he had said, holding the cake in front of her.

She had closed her eyes, silently wishing that they would always stay as close as they were then. The irony of that wish now felt like a cruel twist of fate.

Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, Y/N began to sob openly. The realization of how much she loved Charles and how much she would miss him was overwhelming. She was losing her best friend and it was all her fault. Her tears glistened and she tried to silence herself but all the memories came rushing back. Every hug, every time Charles made Y/N feel loved, every fight, every milestone. Her large golden retriever, Elvis, sensing her distress, jumped onto the bed and nuzzled his head into her lap.

"Oh, Eli," she cried, wrapping her arms around the dog's neck. "I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know how to let him go."

Elvis licked her face, his warm presence offering a small comfort in her despair. Y/N buried her face in his fur, her shoulders shaking with the intensity of her sobs.

"I love him so much, Eli," she whispered. "But I can’t stand the thought of being so close and not being able to tell him. I don't want to hurt their relationship. She is so lovely and he is so happy. They deserve this and here I am, making this about me. But I can't do it. I can't stay close because it just hurts too much."

She looked back at the screen, her vision blurred by tears. The next photo was one Charles had taken of her when she wasn’t looking. She was sitting by the water, lost in thought, with a serene smile on her face.

"He always captured the best moments, Elvis," she said to the empty room, her voice breaking. "He always know how to make me feel special."

Max whined softly, pressing closer to her, and she stroked his fur, finding some solace in his loyalty.

"I wish things could be different," she continued, her voice barely a whisper. "I wish I had the courage to tell him how I feel. But he’s happy with Camille, and I can't ruin that for him."

As she scrolled further, she found the last photo they had taken together, just a few days before he told her about Camille. They were sitting on his couch, watching a movie, their heads leaning against each other. It was the last time things had felt normal, the last time she hadn’t felt the crushing weight of her unspoken love.

"I’ll always cherish these memories Charles," she said, her voice trembling. "But I have to let you go. It’s the only way I can protect my heart."

With a final sob, she closed her laptop and buried her face in Elvis's fur, letting the weight of her decision wash over her. She knew it would take time to heal, but for now, all she could do was grieve the loss of the closeness they once shared.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvUr @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: choso confesses his feelings, lil bit of angst, mention of sex, mentions of prior trauma, suggestive themes, I have subconsciously picked a side, oops I don’t know when this will end A/N: little later than I intened to post, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, I'll be diving deeper into choso x reader with more slight sukuna x reader in the background (one sided on his part). I'm currently over 2,000 miles away from home visiting my boyfriend so I'm not sure if an update will come this week or not, we shall see! (｡- .•)

index part nine | part eleven

part ten word count: 3,446

the next morning, a surprising calm settled over the cabin: Sukuna was gone. Yuji gathered everyone together, sharing the news that Sukuna had packed up and slipped away early, leaving only a brief text for his brother: a simple “see you at home”. you felt a twing of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the sense of relief that washed over you. 

Without Sukuna’s chaotic energy looming, the last day at the cabin unfolded exactly as you had hoped. more hiking, more fun, and more drinking around the campfire.

as the day came to a close, a bittersweet feeling settled in. you didn’t want it to end; the thought of returning home meant facing Sukuna again, and it also marked the approach of summer’s end. after a long, well-deserved hot shower, you tackled the last of your packing. finally, you slipped into bed, cozying up with a book while soft lofi music played in the background – Choso had rubbed off on you. 

just as you were getting lost in your story, a gentle knock interrupted your peace. you placed your bookmark and got up to answer the door. when you opened it, Choso stood there, dressed in gray sweatpants and an oversized black tee. his dark hair was half tied back, the rest falling messily around his neck. 

“can I come in?” he asked softly, and you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

“what’s up? can’t sleep?” concern creased your brow as you studied him – it was unusual for him to seek you out like this.

“something like that.” he replied, offering a lopsided smile that made you feel a little lighter.

“well, come in and hang out then.” you motioned for him to sit on the bed, the comforting scent of his cologne wrapping around you as he passed. “I can’t sleep either. I’m not sure I want to go back tomorrow.”

“wanting to stay away from Sukuna a little longer, I assume?” he asked, settling into a comfortable spot. you nodded, and he chuckled softly. “can’t say I disagree with you there.”

you settled back onto the bed, the atmosphere in the room shifting slightly as the two of you exchanged glances. an unspoken tension hung in the air, a mix of comfort and something deeper that neither of you dared to acknowledge. 

Choso leaned back on his hands, his eyes wandering to the window, where rays of moonlight peeked through the blinds. “it’s been nice here, hasn’t it.” he said, his voice almost reflective. “I wish we could just stay forever.” 

“yeah, it really has been.” you smiled, heart fluttering at the thought of the moments you’ve spent with everyone. “no worries, no responsibilities… just us.”

he turned to look at you, his expression earnest. “you know, I think you’ve made this trip a lot more fun.”

your cheeks warmed at his words, and you shrugged playfully, trying to keep the mood light. “you call punching Sukuna in my favor fun?” the corners of your mouth curled into a teasing smile, but underneath, a flicker of tension lingered.

the air thickened with unspoken thoughts, and you both shifted slightly, a moment of hesitation hanging between you. Choso broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I don’t want to push you to talk about it – but do you know why he was saying those things?”

you wished you could tell him everything – the truth behind Sukuna’s words, the confusion and hurt that tangled inside you. but while you were staying in their house, sharing their space, the words stuck in your throat.

“ah, you know how he can be.” you replied nonchalantly, trying to brush it off. “always trying to get under someone’s skin.”

Choso’s brows furrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “I just can’t seem to figure out why he seemed to be targeting you all weekend.” his eyes roamed your face, searching for any hint of the emotions swirling beneath the surface. he wasn’t blind; he felt the shift in dynamics, but the reasons escaped him.

you let out a nervous chuckle, the sound shaky as you tried to swallow the feelings building up inside. “maybe he’s jealous that I’m hanging out with you more than him.” you joked, but it was a half-truth. lately, you had found yourself gravitating towards Choso in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Choso hummed in agreement, a knowing look in his eyes. “he did seem annoyed that you and I were together.”

“I don’t know why, but we’ll never be able to figure out his thoughts.” you shrugged, but as Choso glanced at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickered across his face. “what? did I say something funny?”

suddenly Choso burst out laughing, his cheeks tinged with pink as his head fell back. “y’know, I thought you might’ve noticed and just never said a word – but now I know you really haven’t realized.”

embarrassment crept over you like a warm tide. “realized what?” you asked, your mind racing to piece together some hidden meaning behind his laughter.

Choso’s laughter faded, replaced by a serious expression as he reached for your hand. his skin was warm against your palm, maybe even slightly clammy with nerves, as he held your hand gently in his. your heart started to pound in your chest – were you even really breathing at this point?

“man, even Yuji had realized. I’ll have to tell him he beat you to it.”

“what are you talking about?” your voice came out as a whisper, tinged with confusion as you tried to calm your breathing.

“why do you think I don’t seem to leave your side?” Choso asked softly, one of his fingers brushing your knuckles gently, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

the weight of his words hung in the air, each syllable loaded with meaning. your heart raced, and for a moment, the world outside faded into a blur. you could see it now, the way his eyes lingered on you, the way he seemed to draw strength from your presence.

“Choso…” you breathed, caught between hope and fear, your heart yearning for something you both seemed to want but were too afraid to voice. 

 “do you really not see it?” he asked, his tone soft but insistent. “I mean, I thought it was obvious.” he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. 

you felt a flutter in your stomach. “see what, exactly?” you managed, your pulse quickening.

Choso took a breath, his eyes steady as he searched yours. ���how we – I mean, how I feel about you.” the confession hung between you, heavy with meaning, and the realization struck you like lightning. 

memories came rushing back, little moments you shared with him that should have set off some sort of alarm. he had a crush on you. but for how long? 

your heart raced as you processed his words, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “you… you like me?” you stammered, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

“yeah.” he replied, a shy smile breaking across his face. “I’ve liked you for a while now. it’s just… easier to be around you. you make everything feel lighter.”

you felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. “I had no idea.” you admitted, your voice shaky yet filled with wonder. he liked you… he really liked you? 

Choso looked thoughtful for a moment, his fingers still entwined with yours, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through you. “well, I never really had much of a chance to show you how I felt. between you attached at the hip with Yuji and your long-term crush on Sukuna, it never felt right.”

you groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “ugh, don’t remind me. that’s done and over with, in the past.” the mere mention of Sukuna brought back memories you’d rather forget, and you felt a wave of frustration wash over you.

Choso shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to yours, a mix of shyness and determination flickering in his gaze. he desperately wanted to ask what had changed, but he held back. now wasn’t the time to dig into the shadows of your past; he was finally getting you to open up, to see what had been right in front of you all along, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. 

“I hate to ask, but do you… do you maybe feel the same way?” his voice was barely above a whisper, almost timid as if he feared the answer.

your thoughts spun, pulled from the depths of uncertainty back to the warmth radiating from him. you looked at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, almost pleading with you to let him down gently if you needed to.

“to be honest… yes. maybe.” you bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I feel something, I know that much. I guess I haven’t allowed myself to think on it. I mean, I’m living with you and your brother, who also happens to be my best friend.”

the reminder of Sukuna weighed heavily on your thoughts, already tainting the idea of “best friend’s brother”.

taking a deep breath, you watched as hurt flickered across Choso’s face, and a pang of regret tugged at your heart. “but, I’m willing to think about it. is that okay?”

a spark of hope ignited within Choso, and a tentative smile broke through his shyness, lighting up his features. “of course, take all the time you need.” his voice was soft but firm, as if he wanted to reassure you that there was no pressure.

“just know that I don’t want you to wait for me.” you continued, nudging your shoulder playfully against his. “I’m sure there are plenty of women out there vying for your attention.

Choso’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and he shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before he met your eyes again. “none that compare to you.” his words were simple, yet caused a flutter in your stomach. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

just like last time, you were nestled in the backseat between Yuji and Choso for the drive home. and as promised Choso passed his earbuds over to you, smiling warmly when you offered him one to share. 

since your conversation last night, you’d been watching him carefully, taking notice of his actions that used to seem so normal and now showed his true feelings. you’d have to corner Yuji and interrogate him when you got home. but it was nice – the feeling you got around Choso. 

Sukuna hadn’t ever really pursued you, not like this, and everything had mostly felt one-sided until that fateful night. 

you had a lot of thinking to do; you’d pursued one brother already, what kind of person would you be if you went after the other? then again, no one knew about what had happened between you and Sukuna, so only you would have to answer to yourself. 

besides, you knew Choso was different from his not-really-brother.  

you fell asleep on Choso shoulder on the drive home again, this time not worried about any awkwardness that might arise when you woke up. his presence comforted you, along with the lofi he’d recommended for the ride. because of him, you hadn’t thought about what might happen when you made it home.

but you should’ve known better. not all peace can last.

you were mortified – no scarred – to be the first one in the door of the house to find Sukuna and another woman… fornicating… on the couch in the living room. Yuji and Choso bumped into your back, almost protesting your sudden stop until they too saw what you were witnessing.

Yuji grabbed your hand, yanking you back outside and slamming the door behind him to alert Sukuna of your presence. 

“did you not tell him we were on the way back?” Choso demanded of Yuji, his face contorted in with annoyance.

“I swear I did! I even gave him out eta!” Yuji exclaimed with bright red cheeks. you could only stand, frozen, staring at the wooden door in front of you as if you could still see what was going on behind it. Yuji’s hands came down on your shoulders, concern crossing his features. “are you okay? jesus, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I think I might throw up.” Choso groaned and rubbed his face. 

before you could respond to Yuji, the front door opened again, revealing Sukuna with at least his pants now on. he didn’t show any remorse, or embarrassment, as he merely smiled directly at you and ignored the other two. 

“didn’t hear you come in.” Sukuna told you, his smirk causing you to grit your teeth in frustration. “or, didn’t really care is more accurate.”

“you couldn’t have warned us?” Yuji questioned.

Sukuna ignored Yuji, stepping down one stair to get closer to you. “did ya like what ya saw?” you felt Choso’s body still next to you, probably fighting the urge to punch him again.

with the confession you’d received from Choso last night, you felt a surge of sudden confidence course through you. you wanted to wipe that smug look off of Sukuna’s face. “not really, it was kind of small.” you managed to bite out.

you might not have held it together, had Yuji not burst into laughter at your words. Choso felt an extreme sense of pride in you as he heard your old self resurface to take Sukuna down a peg. but Sukuna, however, only felt frustrated, maybe hurt, and surprisingly embarrassed.

the eldest brother merely tsked at you, turning on his heel to retreat into the house. Yuji and Choso both congratulated you for handling yourself, but you only felt hot all over – you knew you’d lied, Sukuna knew it, so why didn’t he push back? 

the three of you waited outside for a bit longer, only entering when you deemed it safe. there was no sign of the white-haired woman from earlier, and you assumed that Sukuna had taken her upstairs to his bedroom. 

you had always known Sukuna to be a bit of a player… so why did you now feel sick to your stomach at the thought of him with another woman?

throughout the afternoon and well into the night, your mind was a relentless whirlwind, circling back to that infuriating smirk he wore when you caught him in the act. why was it bugging you so damn much?

after Choso and Yuji had gone to bed, you quietly slipped into the kitchen, seeking solace in a pint of double fudge ice cream. you had nearly devoured half a pint when you heard the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open and shutting upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps descending. 

“eating your feelings, huh?” Sukuna’s voice broke through the stillness as he rounded the corner, catching sight of you in your pajamas, chocolate smudged all over your mouth.

you swallowed the mouthful you had just taken, frantically wiping at the mess with a napkin. “I don’t have feelings to eat away, actually. are you projecting your issues onto me, Sukuna.” you were taken aback by your own defiance; it felt strange to stand your ground against him again.

he chuckled, plucking a spoon from the drawer before leaning over and stealing a bite of your ice cream. you shot him a glare, surprised by his audacity. did he really think things could back to how they once were?

“nope. just ran out of stamina earlier and needed a boost.” there it was again – his infuriatingly arrogant demeanor, as if he thrived on getting under your skin.

“what, did your girlfriend leave already?” you shot back, attempting to keep your voice steady.

Sukuna paused, holding up his index finger as if to half the insults swirling in your mind. “first, she’s not a girlfriend. probably won’t see her again. second, she left while you were hiding in your room.”

the thought struck you like a lightning bolt: did you hurt her the way you hurt me?

it wasn’t until you caught the stunned expression on Sukuna’s face that you realized the words had slipped out before you could reign them in. the shock in his wide eyes mirrored the warmth creeping up your cheeks. there was no taking it back now. with the house quiet and your heart racing, a surge of courage rose within you, pushing you to confront the truth.

“did you hurt her the way you hurt me? did you leave bruises, bleeding bite marks, everything that you made me deal with after you kicked me out?” oh god, it was word vomiting out of you at this point – everything you’d held back, shoved so deep into your soul and fought to conceal surfaced in a fit of rage you could no longer contain.

you pressed on, your voice rising slightly. “did you toss a towel at her and tell her to leave too? did you show her any sign of care or emotion, or was I the only one denied that kindness?”

“Now wait a minute-”

“did you ever ask what she wanted?” you shouted, fists clenched at your side, the ice cream forgotten as it topped off the counter and began to drip and melt into a puddle. the mess mirrored your internal chaos, but you were too consumed by anger to care.

Sukuna only stared. that was all he could do, and it pissed you off more than if he’d said something else. his eyes were wide – you assumed from surprise that you were fighting back. 

unbeknownst to you, you were wrong. that glimmer of surprise you saw was Sukuna trying to replay that night, searching his memories for what he’d done wrong. had you not enjoyed it? had he not… done it right? done right by you? 

as he finally opened his mouth to say something, you held up your hand to stop him. “y’know, I don’t really want to hear it. you’ve been an ass ever since then; I almost gave you the benefit of the doubt, but you fell off the face of the earth around me. I’m going to bed – finish that ice cream if you want.”

you stomped off to your room, leaving a stunned Sukuna standing frozen in the kitchen, his brain fighting to comprehend the words you’d just hurled at him. it wasn’t until your door had slammed shut that he snapped out of it. he shook his head, trying to recollect himself before going back to his room, deserting the mess of ice cream on the counter. 

he’d only done what others had enjoyed in the past. in the moment, he thought you enjoyed it too. was he supposed to do something different? is that why you’ve been so angry with him? he’d chalked it up to you wanting to put on a front in the eyes of everyone else, but this past weekend had proven him wrong.

when he had seen how comfortably you leaned into Choso, how you seemed to pull away in favor of the younger brother, it had struck a nerve deep within Sukuna. it felt like a dagger twisting in his chest, and the realization that you might have tossed his aside sent a surge of jealousy through him. 

that’s why he had exploded in anger this weekend, lashing out with hurtful words that hung in the air like smoke. he couldn’t shake the feeling that you had chosen someone else over him.

as his thoughts spiraled into chaos, he climbed the stairs, each step heavy with conflicting emotions. reaching the top, he found the other half of the problem standing in the doorway opposite of his. when Sukuna’s eyes locked with Choso’s, he was met with a look of darkness, an unsettling mix of disappointment and anger that spoke volumes without a word.

“so, you heard all that, huh?” Sukuna managed to say, his voice barely a whisper, the pain evident in each syllable. it was a simple question, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

in response, Choso simply slammed his door, the force reverberating through the hallway and rattling the walls.

down in your room, completely unaware of the storm brewing above, you assumed it was Sukuna who had slammed his door in frustration. little did you know, the tension had escalated to a point where your carefully guarded secret was on the brink of being blown wide open.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Spoiled

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Bit of spice up ahead, flashbacks

Authors Note: Hope y’all enjoys! I wanted to have a lot more of the boys together🤭

Word count:1.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

In the quiet, hidden-away safehouse where Task Force 141 had gathered after another successful mission, the atmosphere was light—almost too light, considering their usual demeanor. This wasn’t a typical briefing or debriefing. No, this was something else entirely, a kind of unspoken challenge simmering between them.

You sat on the plush couch, watching as Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz all moved around the room with a playful tension. They each had their own way of trying to catch your attention—Price with his slow, thoughtful gestures, Ghost with his more brooding but deliberate actions, Soap’s quick wit and infectious charm, and Gaz’s smooth, confident aura. It was a competition of sorts, though none of them would admit it outright.

“So, who do you think spoils you the most?” Soap asked with a teasing grin, leaning casually on the couch next to you, his hand resting on the back of it, close but not quite touching. “We’ve all been trying, but I know you’ve got a favorite.”

Ghost, sitting in the chair across from you, tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming behind his mask. “Doesn’t matter who spoils her the most. We all know who’s going to win in the end.”

Gaz chuckled from his spot near the window, glancing your way. “Maybe you should let her decide that, Ghost.”

Price, seated calmly beside you, gave you a warm but knowing look. “That’s right. Only she can say who treats her the best.”

You laughed softly, sensing the teasing yet possessive undertones between the team. Each man had his own style of affection, but it was clear that their rivalry was less about competition and more about keeping you happy.

As you sat on the couch, surrounded by the Task Force 141 members, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to different moments—times when each of them had gone out of their way to spoil you. You smiled at the thought, knowing they were all waiting to see whose memory would be your favorite.

---

Flashback - Price: The Quiet Protector

It was a chilly evening, just after a long mission. The team was exhausted, but Captain Price had noticed you shivering despite your tough exterior. Without a word, he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the weight of it both comforting and protective.

"Can’t have you catching cold," he muttered in that gruff voice of his, lighting a cigar while leaning back in his chair. He stayed close to you, his presence reassuring as the two of you watched the embers of the campfire flicker into the night. His hand occasionally brushed your shoulder, a subtle reminder that, though he didn’t say much, he was always there for you.

---

Flashback - Soap: The Charming Giver

Soap had always been the one to shower you with little gifts, each one more thoughtful than the last. You remembered the day he’d returned from a mission, beaming with pride as he handed you a necklace, a delicate charm in the shape of a small bullet.

"Found this and thought of you," he said with a wink, his Scottish accent making the gesture all the more charming. "Somethin’ to remind you I’ve always got your back."

You’d laughed, knowing Soap’s playful side often hid his deep loyalty. He always had a way of brightening your day with these gestures, making sure you felt special, even in the midst of chaos.

---

Flashback - Ghost: The Silent Guardian

Ghost’s version of spoiling you had always been subtle but no less meaningful. There was a time when you’d been left alone at base while the team was out, and you’d felt restless. When he returned, he didn’t say much, but he quietly handed you a small, worn leather-bound book—one of his favorites.

"Figured you might like it," he’d said, his voice low and steady, the mask concealing most of his expression but not the softness in his tone.

Reading wasn’t exactly your escape, but the fact that Ghost had shared something so personal with you had melted away any tension. That was his way—quiet, protective, and always making sure you felt valued, even in his own mysterious way.

---

Flashback - Gaz: The Gentleman

Gaz had a knack for spoiling you with small acts of service. You remembered one particularly hot day when you’d been struggling with some paperwork at the base. Without you asking, Gaz had appeared with a cold drink, setting it down next to you with a smile.

"You looked like you needed this," he’d said casually, pulling up a chair next to you. He didn’t leave after that—he stayed, chatting with you and distracting you from the mundane tasks, his voice soothing as you worked side by side. That was his style—always attentive, always finding ways to make your life easier, without expecting anything in return.

---

The memories swirled together in your mind as you returned to the present, where all four men now stood or sat around you, each waiting for your reaction. Their eyes followed your every move, as if trying to gauge which of them had left the biggest mark on your heart. But the truth was, they all had—each in their own way.

“Well?” Soap broke the silence, his grin playful. “Don’t keep us waitin’, love. Who’s spoiled you the most?”

You bit your lip, letting the tension hang for a moment longer, enjoying how they all leaned in just a bit closer.

“Maybe,” you teased, glancing between them, “I’m spoiled because of all of you.” A beat of silence passed and sits, the tension thickening up. “Actually,” you said coyly, leaning back into the couch, “I deserve to be spoiled by all of you equally.”

The room hummed with agreement, and you could feel the shift in the air as their teasing gazes softened into something deeper. Soap smirked, Ghost’s eyes darkened with intent, and even Gaz’s usual laid-back expression held a new edge. Price leaned in close enough that his breath tickled your ear.

“Well then,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, “I think it’s time we reward you properly.”

The tension spiked, their attention all fixated on you now, as if spoiling you was a mission they were more than willing to complete. And from the looks they gave you, you knew this was only the beginning of their plan to outdo one another.

Ghost shifted in his seat, his eyes darkening behind the mask as he rumbled, “That so? Guess we’ll have to keep it that way.”

Price leaned in, his voice low and commanding. “We’ve only just begun.”

And just like that, they all seemed to silently agree—your happiness was their mission, and each of them was determined to see who could spoil you best. They knew, though, that the ultimate reward wasn’t just seeing you spoiled but making sure you felt utterly cherished. With that, you could tell that their version of spoiling you, after all, was something you wouldn’t mind indulging in.

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, like and Reblog💜 -Midnight’s Cafe

[scarletttries]

The Magic Touch (BG3 Gale x Reader Request)

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x Reader

Rating: Explicit Smut - Gender neutral pronouns throughout, but AFAB reader for smut purposes

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Thank you to the anon that just sent me the prompt of 'inappropriate use of mage hand' please know I have thought of little else since, so here you go! Reminder that my inbox is open for BG3 requests and headcanons :)

The Magic Touch

It started with just an innocent teasing remark. An off-hand playful comment at the end of a long day of adventuring. One you didn't think your darling boyfriend Gale would take quite so personally.

Gale had been especially clingy with you that afternoon strolling through the woods, the party taking much longer than usual to find a suitable spot to set up camp. His arm snaked around your waist as the two of you walked at the back of the group, Gale taking the slightest moment of privacy to land a kiss on your cheek, or your neck, or to whisper in your ear how stunningly beautiful you look in the setting sunlight. You were used to him showering you with affections, but even by his standards he seemed undeniably attentive, his gaze barely leaving your expression to the extent you had to stop him tripping over his own feet more than once as the two you trailed behind everyone else. You could see the darkening desire in his eyes as dusk descended and by the time you heard Karlach calling out that she'd found a spot to set up camp, Gale's breath was almost ragged with his need to be close to you.

"Let's set up our tent and hurry away before anyone spots us my love. I can't bear another moment of being apart from you." He muttered below his breath, racing off to find a quiet moment until you caught his wrist and spun him back around.

"Not yet, lover boy," you chuckled, "we should at least help make up the campfire and share a drink with the others - it's been a long day for everyone after all." You could see the gears turning in Gale's mind as he drew closer to you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling you flush with his chest,

"We can do all that once we've had some time alone my stunning deity," his voice was trying to ooze sultry confidence, but the sheer desperation shone through, undermining his attempts at charisma "after all you can't resist these magic hands, can you?" His fingers brushed along your lower back as if to answer the question for you, his delicate touch rendering you speechless on more than one occasion. Just as you thought about conceding to his whims and seeing how quick you two could pitch your tent before anyone could ask for help, you heard Karlach call out again,

"A bit of help here please!"

"I guess just this one I can resist your magic touch." You reluctantly released yourself from Gale's grasp and headed towards the Barbarian's pleas, hearing your now pouting wizard whisper behind you,

"For now."

***

It didn't take too long to get the camp set up with the whole party helping out, and as the last flickers of daylight settled below the horizon you found yourself settled on a rounded tree stump gazing into the roaring fire. Gale had been uncharacteristically quiet as the group began swapping tales and echoing folk stories from their pasts, something the wizard would usually take great pride in his contributions to. As Astarion circled the group again, pouring yet another healthy glass of wine to anyone who didn't move their cup out of the way quick enough, you finally caught Gale's eye in what should have been a moment of relief. But instead of the usual warm smile, or even slightly disappointed gaze he would sport when forced to sit across from you instead of next to, he was sporting an almost sinister smirk. One that made a shiver run through your spine in anticipation. His eyes were flooded with intensity as he kept his gaze fixed on you, completely ignoring the conversation happening alongside him as he stared you down for what felt like an eternity. You could feel your stomach start to flutter as he raked his gaze over every inch of you, struggling not to squirm in your seat as it almost felt like a hand gently caressed your ankle and set your skin ablaze.

It wasn't until you saw the slight tilt of Gale's head that you realised you weren't just feeling the pressure of his gaze, you could feel his hand, his magical mage hand, softly stroking the skin of your calf. Unseen and ethereal, you could only furrow your brow at the spot the sensation was emanating from, turning your view back to Gale who seemed to be enjoying that you couldn't tell exactly where he was going with this yet. You offered him a sweet smile, an acknowledgement of his gentle touch, the affectionate gesture he could offer from the other side of a roaring fire and without distracting your companions. You could see him chuckle into his goblet of wine as the invisible hand started to drift higher, settling on your left knee for a moment and squeezing lightly.

You turned your attention back to the group; Wyll and Karlach had started acting out the highlights from today's turns of combat. The weight of the hand started to slowly shift off your knee, rising again until you could feel your stomach flip. The magical fingertips were tracing shapes over your inner thigh, the same way Gale would whenever the two of you were tangled up in nothing but your sheets. Your eyes widened as they darted back to Gale, who was now pretending to be captivated by the theatrics happening alongside him, only occasionally deigning to glance your way to see the effects of his wizardry.

You could feel your face heat up from more than just the fire as the ghostly sensation crept higher and higher, the touch so featherlight it could only stir up desire without providing any relief. You tried shifting slightly in your seat, trying to keep the movement subtle enough to not attract attention, but unwittingly only moving your knees slightly further apart and giving Gale even more access to your now aching core. You had to bite your lip to keep in a whimper as the otherworldly fingertips stroked over your folds, the fabric in the way not providing any obstacle to Gale's magic touch, leaving you completely at his mercy.

He couldn't resist staring right at you now, challenging you to resist him as you had earlier claimed that you could, each delicate brush of his hand only stirring up more pulsing desire in the pit of your stomach. You tried to take a deep breath and brace yourself for what you thought was coming, waiting for the lingering touch to sweep sweetly over your clit with all the expertise that Gale showed you every time you lay together. You clenched and waited and focused on remaining composed, but no delicious pressure landed on that most sensitive part of you, Gale opting instead to play tantalisingly around it, giving you more and more sensation but never where you needed him to. It was torture to feel yourself squirming under his hungry gaze, getting wetter and more desperate but with no relief in sight.

"Are you alright there soldier?" It took you a second to release Karlach was talking to you, noticing the uncomfortable way you jolted in place as the mage hand froze upon hearing her voice.

"Uhuh, fine." You managed to mumble out, betrayed by a slight quiver in your voice that you could see Gale grin at from the corner of your eye.

"You're looking quite flushed dear, perhaps I was a bit generous with my pours." Astarion chuckled darkly as he tipped his own goblet back. You could barely concentrate on speaking with the building frustration of the now motionless hand still settled so close to where you really needed it. You wanted it to move again, even though it would only tease you further. You needed to pounce on Gale but you knew that would only prove him right and embolden him to do this again. But more than anything you needed to feel some friction or relief or pressure to turn this endless sensation into the overwhelming pleasure you knew it was building to. Avoiding Gale's eyeline you feigned feeling your own cheeks for warmth and then nodded your head,

"I fear you may be right Astarion, the day and the wine seems to have caught up with me, so I will take my leave for the night now." You made a little awkward bow as you turned your back on the group and took a first uneasy step towards your tent. Your legs seemed to wobble under the pressure as you inched away from the group, only to find the invisible fingers settled against your thigh pleased enough by your actions that they quickly turned their attention to where you needed it most. You choked out a moan as the ghostly touch started to brush over your clit, strumming in perfect rhythm as it plunged into folds as well, leaving you just on the brink of ecstasy as you fought to open the front of your tent, hands trembling with excitement.

With the fabric obscuring you from view, you practically fell onto your bed roll, struggling to take a full breath as the haunting digits continued the overwhelming motions between your legs. You couldn't remember how it felt before you were helpless to Gale's magical actions, every nerve in your being alight as the master of your pleasure finally appeared through the entrance of your tent.

"Did you ha-" His smug sentiment was cut off immediately as you dragged his lips against yours, whining into his mouth in your frustrated state and almost breaking his concentration on his undeniably magic touch. He greedily accepted your kiss, tongue lapping forward to swallow your moans as his arms wrapped firmly around you. Pulling back he took a moment to take in his view; your face was flushed with excitement, legs and hips trembling beneath him as you continued to get more and more overstimulated from his spell without any course of retaliation. Your lips had fallen open in a slow string of whimpers and Gale couldn't help but thank every past version of himself that studied the magic that led him here.

"My my, I really did get you all worked up, didn't I? Are you ready to admit you can't resist me now?" You were already too far gone to argue, and seeing him so confident and sexy only had you down worse for the wizard, but as if to seal your fate the hand between your legs that had been so close to finally offering you sweet release stilled again, and you could feel your body retreating from its peak.

"Please Gale, I need you, I can't resist you." Your brain was too foggy with overwhelming need to care about winning this argument, something Gale would tease you about later, but he could already feel himself straining against his britches and now that he finally had you alone he wasn't going to deny either of you what you wanted a moment longer.

"I can't resist you either. You really are quite amazing." He sighed out lovingly as he made quick work of freeing you both from the confines of your clothes, no longer willing to let anything come between you. Your arms felt heavy as you clung to Gale's broad shoulders, even feeling the weight of his body on top of yours causing you to buck your hips, desperate to feel him touch you again. His hands slowly raked over your chest, pulling the fabric of your blouse off your shoulders until your chest was exposed to him. His thumbs brushed over your nipples playfully and you moaned at yet another part of your body exploding with sensation, tears almost pricking in your eyes as your core ached to feel him.

"Gale!" You pleaded again, the gentle wizard knowing exactly what you needed before you ever had to ask. Your folds were soaked from the attention of his mage hand, Gale's thick member sheathing itself inside you as the invisible fingers sprung back to life rubbing your clit in soft circles, perfectly matching the rhythm of Gale's desperate hips.

"Gods, I fear I was truly made for you sweetheart." Gale groaned out the praise as he felt your warm walls clench around him, responding to finally being full after a painfully slow build up of pleasure. You wanted to sigh out a similarly sweet sentiment, but as you felt yourself stretch around his length, his warm hands playing with your nipples as his illusioned fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, you could do nothing else but pant his name, crying out over and over in the sweetest prayer Gale had ever heard.

You could feel your body quickly pick up where your excitement had dropped off, the overwhelming rush of pleasure echoing through every fibre of your being. Gale's muscular legs had your thighs pinned apart as he thrust into you, stopping your attempts to clench them or do anything to alleviate the absolute rush of sensation that flooded your senses and left you shaking as you finally the pressure inside you spill over. You could hear Gale moan as you dug your nails into his shoulders and clenched around him, wave after wave of euphoria finally releasing from your centre after his torturous teasing. His arms started to tense and clench around you as his release quickly followed, a groaned echo of your name mumbled into your shoulder as his eyes fought to remain open, drinking in every second of your pleasure like it was his own.

The two of you panted, faces so close you could see the sheen of sweat on Gale's face, the first sign that tonight had been as demanding of his restraint as it had of yours. Your exhausted hand rose to brush an errant lock of dark hair behind his ear, a sweet gesture that left Gale powerless to the draw of your lips, lowering himself to kiss you much more gently this time. You could feel the pinch of his cheeks as he smiled against your lips, grateful to finally have the precious alone time with you he had been craving all day.

"I'm sorry for my underhanded tactics my love." He sighed softly against your lips, eyes searching yours for any hint of malice or distaste. Instead he was met with the same hunger he had been gazing at you with all night, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as you smirked,

"You will be when you see some of the spell scrolls I'm thinking about right now."

[cece693]

hi! loved your pjo first they're amazing. I was wondering if I can request a headcannon of percy x son of aphrodite male reader? probably about how percy wants to ask them out and then them dating. thank you!

Fountain of Love (Percy Jackson x Son of Aphrodite)

Thanks for the request :) It's a little short, but I hope you enjoy it!

tags: nervous Percy, asking out, dating, son of Aphrodite is not only a pretty face but good with a sword, oblivious reader, puppy love

From the first moment Percy stepped foot into Camp Half-Blood, he knew your name—M/N, son of Aphrodite. You were somewhat of a legend at camp, not just for being devastatingly handsome, but also for your skill with a sword.

But you were oblivious as fuck. Even more so than Percy himself, which said a lot. No matter how many heads you turned as you passed by, or how many gifts appeared outside your cabin, you remained unaware of the effect you had on others. For you, the attention never seemed more than friendly admiration, nothing deeper.

Percy, however, was different. From the moment he first spent time with you, sitting by the lake, talking about sword techniques, and exchanging stories of battle until the dinner horn blew, he knew one thing—you were the one. It wasn’t just about how incredible you looked, it was how easy it felt to be around you, the way your smile softened his nerves.

But Percy wasn’t alone in his feelings. Dozens of campers—some Apollo kids, others from various cabins—were also vying for your attention, and Percy knew he wasn’t the only one wanting to ask you out.

Over time, he noticed the competition intensify. A couple of campers, Ares kids, constantly tried to one-up him during sword training, cracking jokes about him in your presence, trying to win your favor. Even the children of Hermes, known for their mischievous pranks, tried to outshine Percy in their own crafty ways. It was like everyone was fighting for their chance to stand out, hoping to catch your eye.

Percy fought through the jealousy and frustration, determined to find the perfect moment to finally ask you out. But every time he gathered his courage, something interrupted him—a monster drill, a sparring match, or another camper cutting him off.

One day, as Percy finally approached you by the campfire, an Ares kid—who clearly had the same idea—stepped in and asked you if you wanted to hang out. Percy clenched his jaw, stepping back in defeat, watching the moment slip away again.

Little did he know, you liked him back. You always had. His easy smile, his sense of humor, the way he seemed so sincere around you—it all made you fall for him in ways you hadn’t expected. But since Percy hadn’t made a move, you assumed maybe he wasn’t interested.

Days passed, and finally, Percy couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t wait for the perfect moment because every moment with you was already perfect. So, after a long training session, where the two of you fought side by side during a particularly difficult capture-the-flag game, Percy found the nerve.

The two of you were covered in dirt and sweat, but it didn’t matter. As you both sat by the lake, cooling off, Percy finally turned to you and blurted it out, “I like you. A lot. And, um, would you maybe want to go out with me? Like, officially?”

You blinked, a bit stunned by his sudden confession, but then you laughed, a soft sound that sent Percy’s heart racing. “I like you too, Percy. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he was speechless. You? Liked him back? He couldn’t believe it.

From that day forward, the two of you were inseparable, and when you became boyfriends, everyone in camp knew it. Percy’s friends teased him relentlessly, but nothing would wipe the dopey grin off his face whenver your name was mentioned.

You and Percy balanced each other perfectly—his brave heart and your calm confidence were an unbeatable pair.

But dating at Camp Half-Blood wasn’t without its challenges. There were moments when Percy’s duties as a hero pulled him away, leaving you to worry. You’d send messages through Iris, waiting anxiously for his return, and there were times when he came back battered from battles that left your heart aching. The other demigods, those who had once vied for your attention, sometimes stirred up trouble out of jealousy, testing the strength of your relationship with snide remarks and rumors.

Still, the two of you always found ways to push through. When Percy felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, you were there to remind him he didn’t have to carry it alone. You comforted him when nightmares from the Titan War resurfaced, holding his hand and promising that, together, you could face anything.

And when your own insecurities came up—doubts about whether Percy could love someone like you, despite the constant attention you received—he reassured you that you were more than enough.

“I chose you,” Percy would say, with that earnest smile that made everything feel okay. “And I’d choose you over and over again.”

No matter what challenges arose—whether it was monsters, the gods’ interference, or the complications of being demigods—the bond you shared only grew stronger. And eventually, when the Great War ended, Percy would drop on one knee and ask you to marry him :)

[mit0bee]

Twisted Wonderland boys sharing a tent with you!

Part 2 will come eventually probably most likely

Stuff you should read: Romantic intent! Was supposed to be bulleted but i got lazy, Setting is set in Camp Vargas 1/2 even though i havent actually read CV1 and im only on book 1 of CV2 *cries* leona favouritism because i didnt realise how long writing an entire events drabble would take, sleeping on the floor because i have never camped before and the idea of figuring out how this would work with sleeping bags makes me want to do bad things

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, Lilia Vanrouge

(count how many times melora uses the word exhaustion challenge, go!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

After thanking Ruggie and Epel for their help setting up yours and Leona's tent, it was time to help everyone else, so that the Spelldrive Club wouldn't get chewed out by Vargas.

Well… That's what you had in mind, before Leona pulled you down to the grass with him, ordering saying you should relax with him.

“Oi. Come sit down with me.”

“Leona, I have to help everyone else get set up.”

“They'll be fine without you. Now, come sit.”

Helping them would have to wait for whatever else was in store.

Once the first event was announced, and the three objectives were set, you were determined to help the Spelldrive Club at least a little. Pulling yourself from Leona, you decided to follow Ruggie and Epel through each objective.

After an exhausting 3 objectives, night had come, and everyone in the Spelldrive Club were relaxing by the campfire. Whether they be sharing stories, or cracking jokes, everyone was fairly lively for having just gone through the ringer. Everyone except Leona, A.K.A. the only one who didn't do anything, that is. He had his head resting on yours, half-asleep.

Ruggie was actually the one to point out that you two should go to bed, stating that you looked like hell, and that Leona was already snoozin'. So, you practically dragged Leona from the campfire, saying goodnight to Epel and Ruggie, and finally went to the confines of your tent.

Once you got in the tent, and got decently comfortable, Leona, who by this point was already asleep, attached himself to your back like a leech.

“….ve you.”

“Leo? Did you say something?”

“No. Go t' bed, Herbivore.”

he totally said ily then got to shy to admit it in his borderline sleeping state.

i love him

ok so i didnt realize how long these end up being sooooo the rest are gonna be just the tent shenanigans *sighs*

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once you two got into the tent, you couldn't help but sit down with a sigh. Even though you two were part of an art club, it felt as if Vargas was just as hard on you as he was on the sports clubs.

“Child of Man, is something wrong? You seem down.”

You answered him with another sigh, “It's nothing. Today was just a little tough, is all.”

Malleus sat next to you, opening his arms, “Why don't we lay together, then? You seem to always feel better afterwards.”

Your face would light up ever so slightly, crawling from your spot and into his arms as he laid down. Your head was next to his chest, and you could easily feel his calm heartbeat through his attire. Eventually it was enough to lull you into a light slumber, yet through the drowsiness, you could feel Malleus' lips on your head with a few soft words.

“Goodnight, Child of Man. I love you.”

I AM SO IN LOVE

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Out of the two of you, Azul was the one to cave into exhaustion first. He practically flopped onto the tent floor the second he walked in. He was a mess. His face was beet red, his breath ragged, and he couldn't stand the thought of staying awake a single second longer.

With the last ounce of energy he had left, he grabbed your hand as he went down, pulling you with him.

“Wuh- Azul!”

“[Name]...” He groaned. Obviously the soreness and drowsiness was getting to him, “'m so tired.” He wrapped his arms around you, groaning again, “Let's sleep now.”

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, chuckling, “Okay. Goodnight, Azul.”

“Mmn. Night.”

You didn't see him this tired very often, but it seemed you'd have to find a way to see him like this again.

“[Name]!!! Azul! Look at this cool stone I found! +20 MP!”

Oh lord......

LILIA VANROUGE

Lilia was, surprisingly, nowhere near tired, even though he was decrepit. So, when you were sat at the campfire with the rest of the pop music club with your head on his shoulder, he chuckled.

"My. Are you falling asleep, [Name]?"

You shook your head insistently, "No. 'm not tired, just resting my eyes, is all."

You could practically see him laughing through your closed eyes, "Uh huh. Wise words from an old man such as myself; I can tell when someone is falling asleep. Oftentimes that person should go to bed."

You pulled yourself from dreamland and opened your eyes, "No, I'm awake. See? I was just resting m' eyes."

"More wise words; Fae can tell when humans lie."

Kalim gasped, "Wha?! Seriously?! That's so cool!"

Cater agreed, much to your chagrin, "You could totally be put on those lie detector shows! Those ones where they ask those suuuper toxic couples questions about each other!"

"Mmn. Is that true, Lilia?" You looked over to him. He had a minor habit of telling you something to prove a point , then taking it back.

He nodded, "Mhm. So we should get to bed, right?"

You slowly nodded. As much as you could deny it, nothing could get past Lilia the Lie Detector. You stood up while rubbing your eyes. Lilia waved goodbye to his club members, retreating with you to your tent.

The second your head hit the pillow that Vargas had so kindly given the arts groups, you were asleep. Lilia gazed upon your sleeping form, smiling softly. Fae couldn't actually detect lies, but you didnt need to know that. All you needed to know was that he knew you very well. You two were together, after all.

He laid next to you, admiring you, and how your body rose and fell with each calm breath, and how your hair fell to frame your face beautifully, and especially the drool trickling from your mouth already.

He would definitely have to tease tell you about that tomorrow.

AAAHHHHHHH FIRST EVER POST!!! Did you guys like it? I'm hoping to write some more in the future, including a second post to this one! currently, sebek, jack, and floyd kinda have a chokehold on me so they'll probably be in the second part! --------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

[secretlife0fm3l]

She Likes A Boy

Clarissa La Rue x Female!Reader

Warnings: maybe ooc clarisse, none really

Clarisse woke up in an extra shitty mood today, seeing you and Percy sitting extra close at the campfire last night made her want to go drown in the lake.

She made her way over towards the sparring decks, a couple of her siblings trailing behind her, stopping dead in her tracks staring ahead with her jaw clenched. There you were in all your glory standing with Percy, she hated the way you rested your hand on his forearm as you laughed, having to look up at him due to his height. She remembers you mentioning something about liking boys who were taller than you and suddenly Clarisse felt herself worrying if she was tall enough for you.

She watches you stand on your tiptoes and kiss Percy's cheek, your strawberry lip gloss leaving a shiny mark on his cheek. Rolling her eyes Clarisse wills herself to ignore you as her and her sibling walk past you towards the sparring decks.

But then you're waving her over, your bright smile like a refreshing breeze on a summer day, and Clarisse gives in walking over because she never really could say no to you.

“Hey Clar.” and all of a sudden, she's forgetting about your previous interaction with Percy, focusing on you and the way your hair fell perfectly over your shoulders, your smile bright, “Hey,”

And she can’t help the smile that eventually spreads over her face when yours gets impossibly brighter.

She ends up staying there talking with you, choosing to ignore the sound of her siblings bickering and questioning when she's going to be done, and instead focusing on you enthusiastically telling her all about some place you found in the woods.

It's the rather aggressive shout of one of her brothers calling her over that finally causes her smile to drop, “I have to go, but see you around, yea?” She walks off waving to you before turning around to glare at the person that had yelled at her.

Ω

Later that day when the sun started setting, Clarisse sat outside sharpening her spear when you walked up to her, another soft smile on your face as you sat on top of the table next to her spear, “Hi Clar.” Clarisse looks up at you, “What's up?”

It takes a minute before she hears your voice again, “It just feels like we haven't spent time together in so long,” She watches as you lean back on your arms looking up at the sky, “You should come over during the winter again, mom’s been asking about you.”

Clarisse smiles remembering when she used to spend winters with your family, your mom always seemed so happy to see her, “Yea, I guess we’ve just been busy” She shrugs, but Clarisse knows that the real reason she's been spending less time with you is because she can't stand to watch when you eventually leave with Percy, a pit forming in her stomach every time. Oblivious to the real reason you look at her offering a small smile.

You're about to say something when Clarisse spots Percy out of the corner of her eye signaling for you. He's standing a couple feet away awkwardly shuffling on his feet as he tries and fails to avoid eye contact with Clarisse, “I gotta go, see you tomorrow?”

Clarisse responds in a daze watching you walk towards Percy as that all too familiar feeling builds inside her.

She blinks the tears away looking up at the sky with glassy eyes reminding herself that you like a boy.

And Clarisse is not a boy.

A/N: sorry this took so long to post 😭 also the writing for this one is kinda shitty so !! pt2??

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated

[zigrethsnotebook]

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

[bbieangel]

Love the Joel fic!!! plsssss do an Arthur cramps one!!!

Moon Cycle — Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

A/N: I loved writing this! It's my first time writing anything that's not set in the present world so please bare with me <3 And yes, the title is a reference to Melanie Martinez's song :) As always, thank you for your requests and I hope you love it!

Summary: Even when you try to act tough, Arthur Morgan always sees right through you. And, the day you finally allow yourself to feel weak, he's there to help you with your cramps.

Tags: Fluff! A LOT OF FLUFF. High honor Arthur. Self-deprecating Arthur, we all know how he talks to himself. Mentions of his past (Eliza and Mary Linn), reader has a uterus and is menstruating, she doesn't wear the typical clothes that women used in the 1800's (think of it more like Sadie, she dresses like her). This is set before Arthur even knows he's sick.

Word count: 7.8k

Divider by @/peony chance on Pinterest!

Since day one, you had never failed to amaze the whole Van Der Linde gang with your dirty mouth and ways of pissing off Miss Grimshaw. To say the least, they had grown fond of you. And even if you could look after yourself just fine, you laid awake in your cot endless nights just wishing someone was there for you in times where you felt the most vulnerable, needing attention like the dog the gang had adopted. He always ran around, sniffing everyone and looking for any hand that would give him back scratches.

One particular day you had gone out to rob a stagecoach that a guy in Rhodes had told you about. Dutch assigned you to go along with Arthur, the gruff looking, almost giant man. But you knew he hid something else behind his blue-green eyes that often held a hint of tenderness whenever he looked your way.

"Now, stay right behind me, princess."

He muttered as he covered his face behind the rock you were prompted at, making sure the drivers didn't see you.

You groaned. Of course that, out of all of the women in camp, he would call you princess. But he didn't do it for the reasons you thought.

"Call me by my name, Morgan."

You muttered and he let out a deep chuckle, rumbling through his chest and sending butterflies to your stomach. But you wouldn't let your face show that, after all, you kinda liked being called princess by him.

The stagecoach robbery was a success, feeling like a breath of fresh air after what seemed like the gang had been cursed or just ran out of good luck.

Arthur counted the money effortlessly, the flicking of his fingers looking elegant. It was ridiculous, you thought as he you waited for your part.

"Don't forget to give some to camp, princess."

He said, pointing a finger at you. But he knew not to worry about you contributing to the little box Dutch had beside his tent, he had seen you do it more times than anyone else in the gang.

"You don't need to worry about me contributing, Arthur."

You said with a soft smile as you both rode back to camp, side by side, enjoying the nice weather and the views.

—

Later that day, you were sitting up against a log in front of the campfire. A bead of sweat fell down the side of your face and into your shirt. Arthur was going to tease you about it, but he held himself back when he saw the slight frown on your face and your knees being held against your chest.

He sighed, knowing that caring about you wasn't the best decision. He couldn't bring himself to like anyone else, not after Eliza and Mary. But that soft, empathetic part of him was stronger than any of his insecurities, and it needed to know if you were okay. Which you clearly weren't.

He slowly sat down beside you with a look of concern on his face, and placed his calloused hand on your shoulder.

"You alright, princess? Did you get hurt? You should've told me—"

"I didn't get hurt."

You interrupted him. You were about to snap at him for teasing you, but when you looked into his eyes, glowing by the fire crackling in front of you, you noticed he was being genuine. So your expression softened, and he saw it, making his heart flutter and long to open up to you more.

"I'm.. I have cramps. It's that time of the month.."

You spoke quietly. You had grown to know it wasn't okay to talk about it, let alone tell a man about it. They found it disgusting, a woman bleeding monthly was seen almost as a sin, something you couldn't talk about.

But Arthur couldn't care less. He had killed people and had seen countless bodies, massacred by some fool. Hell, he'd seen his son be born. He could handle speaking about a monthly small amount of blood coming out of a woman's body naturally.

"I understand. Is there anything I can do for you?"

He asked, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why wasn't he acting disgusted by what you just said? Why didn't he tell you to just suck it up?

It took you a few seconds to answer.

"I—Uhm.. I don't know, actually. Can you help me get to my tent? I think I might've stained my clothes and I don't wanna get teased about it."

You spoke, your eyes darted towards the fire once again. It was fine if he declined, you would understand. But, once again, he surprised you.

"Yeah, let's go."

He said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, helping you up. He looked behind his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to see the small stain in your pants, and led you to your tent.

"I've heard.."

He cleared his throat before speaking, the slight pink tint on his cheeks gave away the soft embarrassment he felt.

"I've heard that peppermint or chamomile tea helps, the ladies were talking about it the other day."

He said and you couldn't help but smile softly.

"Yeah, it does. I just ran out of both herbes."

At that, he raised an eyebrow. Why didn't you tell him? He would've gone looking for some if it brought you comfort. And, against his better judgement, he chose to speak.

"You should've told me. I'll make sure to bring you some."

He spoke gruffly, but unable to hide his growing softness and tenderness for you.

When he helped you into your cot, he made sure to cover you with a blanket before turning on his heels to go away. He figured you might want to be left alone.

"Wait."

You called out to him. You knew better than to call over a man who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between anyone's eyes, but a part of you knew he only did it when absolutely necessary. And that he would never, ever touch a hair on your body.

"Can you.. stay a little while?"

You asked, your cheeks turning a cute rosey shade. At that, he gave you a light chuckle.

"Yeah, 'course."

He sat down on the edge of your cot. You could see the sympathetic look in his eyes when your face would scrunch up every time a cramp hit harder.

"I'm not usually like this, I can take the pain—"

"No need to explain to me. I know it hurts and I don't need you to act tough all the time."

He cut you off, easing some of the embarrassment you felt. Maybe it was stress, maybe your hormones were fighting against you, but this cycle felt different. It hurt a lot more, making you sweat as you tried to deal with the pain.

The tension between the both of you only continued to grow, hidden desires behind your eyelids that none of you could speak about. Heartbreaks and loss were two things you were too familiar with, and couldn't bring yourself to experience once again.

So he didn't speak as he laid beside you, carefully, treating you as if you were made out of porcelain and he didn't want to hurt you. His hand went to your lower stomach and began moving it gently, massaging the zone.

You let out a sigh of relief—how did he know exactly what to do? As if reading your thoughts, he spoke:

"Mary told me this works. I didn't figure it out on my own."

He spoke quietly, and you felt kinda bad. How could she be such a fool to break up with such a kind man?

"Even if you didn't figure it out on your own, I'm grateful you know about it."

You spoke softly.

"Can I tell you something, Arthur?"

You asked, you heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted out just to be gifted to Arthur.

"'Course, princess."

He responded, his hand never stopped moving as he saw the look of relief in your face. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he noticed it was working.

"You're a good man. And anyone who doesn't see that, is a fool. A damn, blind fool."

You spoke and his eyes widened at that, letting you take in more of the particular color they had. You were so close to him yet none of you could move.

"I ain't much of a good person, princess. I've done things I'm not proud of, killed folks just because.. There's a price on my head."

He said, looking at you with that self-deprecating look he gave anyone who even dared to call him good. He wasn't good, he was a fool who didn't know how to be kind, how to be good. Or at least, that was what he thought of himself.

But on the contrary, you didn't see him that way, and he knew. So you doubled down, going along with your stubborn nature.

"Well, to me you are good. And nothing will change my mind about that."

You spoke in a firmer tone, placing a hand on top of his shoulder and rubbing it softly. He swore you could feel the way his heart jumped at your small gesture.

After a few minutes of just contemplating each other's faces, trying to read each other's minds, he spoke.

"You deserve someone better than me."

At that, you frowned. He couldn't tell you what you deserved and what you didn't, who you could or couldn't like.

"No one has ever cared about my cramps before. No one... No man has taken the time to try and make me feel better."

His expression softened. How could anyone treat you badly about something that wasn't your fault? But again, he reminded himself, it was 1899. You didn't live in a fair world.

"I couldn't just let you be in pain."

"Exactly."

You said. Everything he did or said was just another reason as to why you considered him a good man. After fighting against your fears, your mind, your insecurities, you leaned slightly closer. What were you doing? You didn't know. But the sight of his lips covered by his always perfectly trimmed moustache was something almost magnetic that pulled at your heartstrings right when you were the most vulnerable and needy.

"Princess..."

He tried to protest. His breathing hitched as he felt you slightly closer, his eyes kept darting towards your plush lips without even thinking. His heart thumped against his chest in a way that almost hurt.

"Do you trust me?"

His eyes shot up at yours. Of course he trusted you, even if a part of his brain begged him not to, he wasn't doing what his brain wanted. He was following his heart at this point, and his heart wanted you. Only you.

"I do."

He responded, his deep voice was now soft.

"Then.. Let me."

You whispered and pressed your lips against his, without giving your brain the possibility to make you think about it twice. You stayed still as you waited for him to pull away, to shut you down and never talk to you again.

But he kissed you back. He kissed you back, and his hand tangled on your hair as he did. Every move, every action was so gentle, so careful. And you couldn't be more grateful for that.

His other hand never left your lower stomach. He was determined to end with your cramps, even if his own hand ended up cramping after massaging your skin for so long.

He didn't leave your side that night. If anything, the whole situation only brought the two of you closer, to the point where he would look for excuses to sleep with you all curled up against him. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding your frame up against his chest. All while keeping a soft smile on his face even when he slept.

Because what started with the two of you being scared of letting anyone else in, ended up with Arthur going out of his way to look for anything that would relieve your pain. He would even ride his horse for hours until he found peppermint.

But in the end: all you wanted was the warmth his body provided you with and his hand pressed against your skin.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Camping Vlog | OT8

Ot8 x Gn! Staff Member Reader - platonic but one member seems to be a littleeeeee flirty ;)

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

You and the Stray Kids members arrived at the campsite in the early afternoon, the sun shining brightly overhead. The group was excited, chattering about their plans for the short weekend. As a staff member, you were there to ensure everything went smoothly, but you couldn't help but share in their excitement.

Your days were going to be packed, as you were filming a vlog for not just this camping trip, but using footage from this to also compile multiple other videos that you would release in the future; to make it look as if the Kids were going on multiple trips.

With a few outfit and scenery changes, it wouldn't be to hard to make it look as if they were filmed at different times of the year. But deep down you felt a little sad and guilty. The guys overworked themselves and to see them get excited over a mini vacation but still have to work made you wish you could help ease their load. And to make matters worse, they had to put on face as if they had been relaxing more than they actually were.

You sighed as you helped pile things out of the truck, looking at the immense amount of hair dye and wigs you needed to mess with to further the story of different time periods.

“Who’s ready to set up tents?” Chan asked, clapping his hands together.

You quickly rushed over. "No-No it's okay! We'll set them up! You guys don't have to-"

Chan shook his head and grabbed your flailing hands. "It's okay... we want to help. You guys help us a lot, it's time to return the favor."

You sighed and conceded, because how could you say no Chan, especially when he had the rest of the boys already working.

With everyone’s help, the tents were set up in no time. You made sure each tent was properly secured and that everyone had the necessary supplies. Han and Changbin worked together, with Han occasionally getting distracted and making everyone laugh with his antics. Seungmin and I.N were surprisingly efficient, while Hyunjin and Lee Know took their time, making sure everything was perfect. And Felix went around with Chan helping everyone.

“Hey, Y/N, can you help us with the firewood?” Lee Know asked. You turned and nodded at the cat eyes boy.

“Well, thats actually on the filming list!” you replied, motioning for the multiple cameramen to follow, grabbing an axe and handing it to Changbin. "You guys will be lumberjacks!"

As you cut and collected firewood, you made sure everyone was handling the tools safely.

Although you had to admit the way I.N. was handling the axe made you extremely worried. The minute he turned around with it, trying to respond to a question Han was asking, just barely missing the quokka's arm you squealed.

"JEONGIN BE CAREFUL!" Your voice had an echo and you turned to see Chan rubbing his temples after saying the same thing.

“They can be a bit much can't they,” he said with an exasperated sigh. "But I love them. You know, you kind of act like a parent of them as well, maybe you should join the group." You laughed, feeling a slight blush on your cheeks but kept focused on the task at hand.

The rest of the afternoon was spent collecting firewood, setting up the campsite, and preparing for the night. As the sun began to set, you all gathered around the campfire, the smell of burning wood filling the air. You ensured the fire was built correctly and safely.

You spent quite a bit of time looking through the recorded clips after the guys had seemingly gone to sleep.

"Y/N?"

You jumped in the chair you were sitting in. You turned to see a bare faced Chan, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Oh, Bangchan, hello. Are you not going to sleep?"

Chan laughed. "I never go to sleep." He said winking at you, and motioning towards the chair beside you. You nod, grateful for the company.

You sit in silence for a minute, both of you typing away, until Chan speaks up.

"You know...it's nice to be far enough from the city to see stars." You turn to see him looking up at the sky, with a soft smile on his face.

You sigh and nod, looking up as well. "Where I grew up, I could always see the stars. I miss it, but I wouldn't trade the life I have right now for anything."

You were to busy admiring the natural lights in the sky to notice the tired leader looking at you. And the way the shadows of the fire in front of you danced across your face.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He murmured quietly.

"It really is." You stated quietly, mesmerized by the beauty laid out above you.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of breakfast cooking. Felix and Hyunjin were in charge of breakfast, making pancakes and bacon over the campfire.

You were surpised Felix hadn't managed to catch anything on fire, due to his cooking skills- or lack there of.

“Morning, Y/N!” Felix greeted. “Hiking is on the agenda today right?"

You nodded and yawned as Seungmin motioned to plate filled with a bunch of yummy things. "Hungry?"

“Absolutely,” you replied, grabbing the plate. You made sure that everyone had something to eat, and sat off to the side, as the boys breakfast was recorded. You couldn't help but stifle a yawn. Absolutely, drained already.

"Tired?" You heard a friendly Aussie ask.

"Are you not tired? I'm more than sure you stayed up later than me. Although, I'm not even sure when I fell asleep. I must have been so drained I didn't realize I had walked myself back to the trailer."

"Oh well, thats 'cause you didn't." Chan said scratching the back of his neck. "You fell asleep in the lawn chair so I carried you to the staff trailer if that's okay... I promise I wasn't trying to be weird or anything..."

You choked slightly on your water. "Oh!" You wiped a little bit of it off your face. "No-it-it's fine. But I'm sorry that must have been such an inconvenience."

"No! It wasn't." Chan laughed nervously. "I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

You nodded. "You do always make sure all the staff are comfortable."

Chan nodded with a close lipped smile. "Yes...staff..."

You heard Seungmin clear his throat loudly. "Ya! Channie-Hyung stop flirting with the staff and get over here!"

You looked at Chan wided eyed and he mirroed the look. You laughed and scratched the side of your nose. "Looks like your kids are teasing you. Go and mess with them back, so we can get it on video."

Chan scurried off, the tips of his ears red as you got up to clean everything.

After a quick check to ensure everyone had proper gear and enough water, you set out on the hiking trails just a little while later.

The path was beautiful, winding through the forest and offering stunning views of the mountains. Chan led the way, with you and the rest of the members following close behind.

Throughout the hike, Chan stayed close to you, occasionally pointing out interesting sights or cracking a joke. “Look at that view!” he said, gesturing to a particularly breathtaking overlook. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“It really is,” you replied, smiling at the sight while making sure the group stayed together and on the marked trail.

You could hear the guys giggling behind you, and you kept turning to see what was up.

“We should take a group photo,” I.N suggested. An impish grin on his face. You knew he was up to something, but as long as it gave you some footage you were all for it.

Setting up the camera on a timer, the guys all posed for the picture, capturing the moment. As the camera clicked, Han added, “Everyone say ‘cheese’… or should I say ‘Y/N and Chan’?”

The group burst into laughter, and Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “Very funny, Han.” He said, but his smile didn't fully reach his eyes. You just chuckled behind the camera, disregarding Han's words and taking the pictures, humming to yourself at the product.

On the third day, you all decided to spend the day at the lake. The water was clear and inviting, perfect for swimming and kayaking.

“Last one in has to kiss JYP!” Changbin shouted, running towards the water. Seungmin getting into the water so quickly, it almost made you believe in teleportation.

You joined in the fun, but also made sure there were enough life vests and that everyone knew the safety rules. Lee Know and Hyunjin took turns on the kayak, while Seungmin and I.N tried their best to play chicken fight with Changbin and Felix, but failing miserably without good areas for footing.

“Y/N, come try the kayak!” Hyunjin called.

You shook your head, as lakes weren't really something you enjoyed. But after you got a few puppy eyes, you reluctantly padded out. Not realizing Chan was right next to until his arm brushed against yours, causing you to flail in fear.

He grabbed onto you and looked at you with wide and concerend eyes, but smiling still all the same. "You good, Y/N?"

You nodded and hear Jeongin fake a gagging noise, as Chan brought you back into a position to paddle.

As you paddled together, Chan glanced over at you. “Be careful." He warned. You nodded and laughed, as you pulled yourself into a kayak with Hyunjin.

Back on the shore, the other members couldn’t resist teasing Chan. “Looks like hyung has a crush,” Han said with a smirk.

Chan laughed it off, but you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks. “Focus on yourself, Han,” he said, shaking his head.

"But he's not wrong." Felix lilted.

"I feel like I'm watching a drama." Changbin said mimicking an overly romantic scene with Minho.

"Oh, oppa..." Minho said in his best female voice.

"I saranghae you." Felix said, making his voice even deeper than normal.

Chan frowned and got everyone to shut up as you walked over, rambling about the late evening activities, to preoccupied with your list too notice all the looks the members were shooting between you and Chan.

On the final night, you all gathered around the campfire once again. This time, it was for storytelling. Each member took turns sharing their favorite campfire stories, some spooky, some funny, and some heartwarming.

And Han's making absolutely no sense whatsoever.

This was going to be footage for one of the extra videos, so you did it earlier in the evening, while it was dark but not too late.

When it was your turn, you shared a story from your childhood, making everyone laugh with your animated retelling. Throughout the night, you kept an eye on the fire to make sure it stayed under control and checked in with everyone to see if they needed anything.

Although it turned a bit chaotic when Jeongin and Seungmin thought it was a grand idea to run around chasing each other with sticks that were on fire. Accidentally catching a baby sapling on fire and looking at you with utter shock and guilt as you and the rest of the staff rushed to put out the growing fire while Changbin, Minho and Chan scolded the two boys.

As the night went on, you made your way back to the fire the conversation shifted to reminiscing about the trip and the memories made. Chan, sitting next to you, leaned in and whispered, “This has been one of the best trips ever.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. “Definitely. I’m glad everything went smoothly.”

Chan opened his mouth to say something else but hesitated. And by the time he had mustered up enough courage to tell you something else, you had gotten up and moved out of frame so they could film Chan.

You caught his fleeting glance and smiled at him, nodding at him encouragingly.

Minho chuckled as he took a sip from his canteen, and you raised an eyebrow, more than sure the liquid in there was not water.

The next morning, it was time to pack up and head back. The campsite was quickly disassembled, and soon you were all ready to go. Felix helped you pack up the staff van, but was surpirsed whrn you didn't pile in.

"Are you not going with the rest of the staff?" He asked.

"I need to record some car footage. And the staff member who was supposed to be in the van with you guys got poison ivy so they left earlier." You said adjusting your recording equipment.

Felix smiled. "Hmm, I bet Channie-Hyung is happy about that."

"Why would he be happy about that?" You ask innocently, pulling the camera over your chest.

Felix chuckled. "And I thought Jisung was dense..."

In the van, you recorded the Kids antics, smiling and feeling happy that they were happy.

It was nice to see them joyful, and not stressed. You knew how much they cared for their fans, meaning they put themselves first to make sure they were always there for you.

But by putting themselves they only ever took care of their physical health so they could work more. So to see them relax and put their mental helath first gave you hope in aiding them from being burnt out.

Chan was sitting in the row in front of you, watching as you giggled at something Changbin had said. He didn't even realize the soft smile he had on his face as he watched you, until Minho poked his shoulder.

"You practically have heart eyes." He joked, and Chan scratched his neck.

He couldn't even find it in him to deny Minho's accusations, which caused a satisfied hmph from the second oldest member.

“Thanks for making sure we didn’t set the forest on fire,” Jeongin joked, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

“Anytime,” you replied with a laugh. Snapping a few pictures of Felix asleep on Seungmin's shoulder, the younger one with a jokingly tense and disgusted posture.

For the rest of the ride, you let yourself get sometime to sleep, agreeing to allow the members to take pictures and videos.

But little did you know that was a mistake, since they now were all aware of Chan's newfound crush. Taking the time to focus the camera on his eyes locked on your sleeping figure, figuring the footage will come in handy at somepoint.

Although, probably not for their vlog. ;)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[isagrimorie]

I’ve been watching video reviews praising Agatha All Along, and while I more or less agree with their points, one thing that bothers me is the claim that Agatha remained 100% evil, and she didn't change, and that doesn’t sit right with me.

Agatha didn’t have a redemption arc (or as Schaeffer put it, “This lady did not arc out.”), and I understand why. In fact, I love that about her character. The show doesn’t try to sand down Agatha’s sharp edges. I love that Agatha can feel so deeply while still being unapologetically a dick.

But the reason it bothers me when people claim that Agatha didn’t change is because she did.

To put it into context, for a character who hasn’t changed and remains firmly on a villainous path, the reviewers should look at another comic book show that aired at the same time: The Penguin. While it’s not an exact comparison, there are notable similarities: both main characters love purple (sorry, Oz, I mean plum), have a fascinating, wide-eyed, unhinged brunette antagonist, a teen sidekick, and a ruthless quest for power. But there are key differences between Agatha Harkness and Oswald Cobblepot.

The Penguin is the story of Oswald’s rise to power as Gotham’s crime boss. Agatha, on the other hand, was already at the height of her power and villainy. Over 300 years, she killed fellow witches, schemed, and connived. This all came to an abrupt halt when Wanda trapped her in a hex. With the help of Rio and Billy, Agatha eventually clawed her way free from Wanda’s distorted spell.

Initially, it seemed like nothing had changed for Agatha.

But Agatha did change. The Agatha Harkness of three years ago—the witch killer—wouldn’t have sat around a campfire trading stories and feeling emotional about it. She wouldn’t have felt any remorse for accidentally killing Alice.

(It’s funny how, between Rio and Agatha, Agatha reminded me more of Dream than Rio. Both are capricious and prone to holding grudges. Both were held captive by mystical forces and when freed, they denied they had changed—even though their captivity altered them in both small and profound ways. In the end, both characters die because of their capacity to change and are reborn, metaphorically or literally, wearing white.)

I appreciated that the show didn’t dull Agatha’s sharp edges. She was, and remains, a killer. Even when we get glimpses of Agatha’s tragic backstory with Nicky, the show doesn’t excuse her actions. She was a killer before Nicky, during her time with Nicky, and after Nicky. In fact, she became an even more prolific serial killer after Nicky. Her contempt for fellow witches deepened every time they fell for her road scam.

So, it’s tiring hearing that “Agatha didn’t change.” The ending of Agatha All Along made it clear that while she didn’t change—because such a drastic shift can’t happen in just nine episodes for someone with a 300-year history—there was, as Jac Schaeffer put it, progress.

Agatha never considered the consequences of her actions. For example, when she tried to avoid harming Jennifer Kale back when she was a rootworker and midwife, she inadvertently hurt Jennifer for a century.

Agatha spent her life trying to fill the gnawing black hole inside her, running from pain and avoiding anything resembling personal growth. She finds the Darkhold, and she becomes invisible to Rio, her remaining connection to her life with Nicky.

And, even when the world around her burned, nothing truly touched Agatha Harkness—until she found herself in the Hex, facing off against the Scarlet Witch.

Agatha was overconfident. Armed with her vast knowledge and the Darkhold, she thought she was invincible. But she miscalculated, becoming powerless and losing three years trapped in Agnes the Nosy Neighbor's life.

This disruption in Agatha's pattern is enough that when Agatha was about to restart her Killing Game, it gave Agatha pause. When Alice shows up at her house hoping to visit the Road, only to end up dead in Agatha’s basement.

There was even a moment when Agatha went to recruit Sharon Davis as a replacement backup Green Witch, she had to take a moment to confirm to herself that she could live with killing Mrs. Hart.

Agatha’s story (for this season, at least-- because there will be another season or sequel, dammit) wasn’t a redemption—nine episodes isn’t enough to atone for 300 years of killing. It's a story of moving Agatha into a position to transform. Or, as Jac Schaeffer called it, progress. Redemption may come later, but progress isn’t linear. For someone who is an unrepentant killer and con artist, even the smallest shift is big.

Agatha All Along doesn’t try to make Agatha into a hero, nor does it attempt to soften her sharp edges. Instead, the show offers a nuanced portrait—a reminder that even an unrepentant bad guy can evolve, even if they don’t fully understand or accept it themselves.

Agatha Harkness might not be “redeemed” but she isn’t the same either.

[alottiegoingon]

talking to the trees

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where lottie's visions are getting worse.

warnings: wilderness based, implied mental illness, established relationship but doesn't really matter, angsty ending?, not proofread

lottie’s visions were worsening, and you were unsure how to help her. not only were they more frequent, but she also started acting unaware of everything around her.

sometimes she'd go silent, not uttering a single word for days and even weeks. you had to bring her food daily or else she'd stare at the trees and forget about taking care of herself.

being extremely careful, you place your hand on her shoulder, rubbing digitals on her skin through her clothes in a caress. "lottie, you need to eat. look, mari made us soup," you murmured, holding a steaming bowl.

the only way to make lottie to eat lately was to tell her that mari was the one who made the food. mari was responsible for dinner every night and lottie wouldn't eat anybody else's food. it was getting quite hard to convince her every day.

especially considering the fact that mari had died a while ago and lottie, lost in her own little world, were too absent to notice. well, she knew—she just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

"soup?" lottie's faint voice echoed yours, finally realizing that you were there. rarely did anything distract her from the strange symbols in the trees.

you watched as her eyes, dull and unfocused, flickered slightly at the mention of mari. it was a small victory, one you held on to desperately. lottie took the bowl with trembling hands, sipping the soup with a faraway look. you sat beside her, the cold ground pressing through your thin clothes, trying to offer her warmth with your presence.

it was freezing outside but, somehow, it was the only place she felt safe and you didn't want to make anything worse than already was.

"hey, lot, do you remember the night we all sat around the campfire on the first day? when laura lee said that we crashed because she called her piano teacher a cunt?" you asked softly, hoping to draw her out, even if just for a moment.

it was a funny memory overall. everyone was terrified but yet, that one time brought a momentarily relief to everyone.

lottie paused, her eyes briefly flickering with recognition before the fog settled back in. she nodded faintly, lips threatening to curl up, but her gaze remained distant. it was as if she was here, yet not here at all. you sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

𖠋

days turned into weeks, and lottie's situation only worsened. the forest around you seemed to close in, the shadows growing longer and darker and winter was only getting started. you knew you had to do something, but every day felt like a losing battle.

one particularly cold night, you wrapped lottie in your arms, trying to keep her warm. everyone else was sleeping around the weak fire, but she was shivering even under all the clothes. sitting by her side, you were determined to make her sleep at least a few hours.

"aren't you sleepy?" you whispered, holding her tighter. if it wasn't for the fire, your only source of light, you'd barely be able to see her.

completely focused on the light and intrigued by the crackling noises, lottie finally said something, her voice a broken whisper, "do you think they're watching us?"

"who?" appreciating the fact that you were finally hearing her voice after days, you didn't mind her ignoring your question. definitely wasn't sleepy but very much tired.

"they don't want us to leave," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "i can feel them… always watching, waiting."

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice tender. "lottie, no one's watching us. it's just you, me and the girls. we're safe here. i promise."

but she shook her head, a haunted look in her eyes. "no, you don't understand. they're always watching. they won't let me go."

you didn't know who she was referring to, but nodded either way, hoping to calm her fears. how could you ever push her away or call her crazy in this cirscunstance?

"we'll be okay, lottie. i won't let anything happen to you." she fell silent again, staring into the fire, back to get lost in her thoughts.

"hey, don't worry," you give her shoulder a gentle bump to hopefully catch her attention, "if they ever try to get you, i'll throw a ball in their face like nat did to shauna that one time."

lottie let out a small, almost imperceptible chuckle. it was a sound you had missed, a tiny beacon of hope. "that was funny," she whispered, her voice still distant but a bit lighter.

𖠋

it took lottie several extra hours to fall asleep, while you managed only two or three hours at best, always alert and prepared to comfort her if necessary. you knew the other girls were there, but she didn’t trust them enough. neither did you, honestly. they were always gentle with her, of course, but you preferred to take care of her yourself.

still groggy, you jumped up from the makeshift bed on the ground, finding lottie in the lake. everything below her knees was submerged in the icy water, and the sight made you panic. rushing toward her, you stopped at the edge before the water could touch your skin.

“lottie, it’s too cold to swim now,” you exclaimed, your words punctuated by the splashing of your feet in the shallow water. “can you come back, please?”

for a moment, she didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the tranquil surface of the lake. then, slowly, she turned to face you, her expression distant yet strangely calm.

"it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "the water feels nice."

your heart clenched at her words but you knew you had to be there for her when she needed you most. taking a deep breath, you waded into the water towards her, your hand outstretched in a silent invitation. "come on, let's go back inside," you said gently, your voice was a soothing presence in the stillness of the very silent morning. "we can change clothes and have breakfast together."

“inside?” she stopped following your steps, the frigid water stinging your skin. looking back, you saw her confusion.

"it's warmer in there. you are freezing here, baby, and your clothes are all wet," you explain, holding her hand.

"fire," she frowns, "remember?"

right. the cabin had been burned to the ground months ago. how did you forget that?

"it's alright. we can find some other place."

"but the girls?" she asked immediately, searching around. you noticed her muscles tensing.

"they're in there already," you promised, being cautious when placing a kiss on lottie's cheek. "come on."

"is mari cooking breakfast there?" still wary, lottie rooted herself to the ground, grasping your hand before you could continue walking.

"she is, sweetheart."

“mom and dad too?” for the first time in weeks, lottie was mentioning her parents again. god, you hated them. what kind of people would abandon their own daughter in a different country like that? yes, they paid for it but yet—

“i’ll give them another call.”

𖠋

a soft knock on the door broke stirred you from your thoughts. there stark, white walls of the psychiatric ward came back into focus. lottie still slept soundly, her head nestled on your shoulder. finally, a full night’s rest.

you look at the door as lottie's usual nurse stepped in, giving you a sympathetic smile. "how is she today?"

you glanced down at lottie, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “improving,” you replied softly. “she’s slept through the night.”

the middle-aged woman nodded, looking pleased. "that's good to hear. keep talking to her. it seems to help."

“i will,” you assured her. you never missed a day without visiting lottie, even booking the nearest hotel just to be close. spending days and nights with her was routine now, something her parents’ money afforded her. “any word from them?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

“not yet,” she exhales, glancing momentarily at lottie still asleep while clinging to your arm. “but i’m sure they’ll visit her soon,” she tries to cheer you up.

"and let's try to keep her out of the water fountain again," she adds with a gentle laugh, mentioning yesterday’s situation. "we don't want her to catch a cold now."

it could be freezing cold in switzerland’s winter.

[amourquinn]

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ; quinn hughes

prologue

「 author’s note 」 here it is!! this prologue is pretty long, but it explores the background of quinn and camila’s relationship ( the main events basically ) and how everything turned upside down

first chapter ↦

JULY 2017

The air was thick with the buzz of summer—warm, with just a hint of coolness as the night deepened. A group of college students had rented a lake house for the weekend, hoping to escape the pressure of exams, assignments, and the looming future. There was the unmistakable scent of campfire smoke in the air, blending with the earthy aroma of the lake, and the crackling of the fire itself added a rhythmic background to the laughter and chatter that floated around the gathering. People were huddled in small groups around the bonfire, some with drinks in hand, others leaning against the railing of the dock, gazing out over the dark waters.

But Camila wasn’t with the rest of them.

She sat by herself on the edge of the firepit, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. The warm light cast a soft glow on her face, making her look almost ethereal. She liked the solitude, the way the fire seemed to embrace her in its warmth, its crackling whispers almost like a language only she could understand. It was peaceful, and she felt at ease here, in the quiet of the moment, the chaos of the party distant and muted.

Quinn, who had been standing near the edge of the firepit talking to a few friends, noticed her sitting by herself. He hadn’t seen her around before, though he recognized her face from mutual friends. She was new. And, though he was never one to be forward, something about her calm presence caught his attention.

He excused himself from the group, making his way over to the spot where she was sitting, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his eyes studying the fire for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure what had drawn him to her. Maybe it was the way she looked so at ease, so comfortable with herself. Or maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t laughing at some joke or chatting animatedly like everyone else.

When he reached the log she was sitting on, Quinn hesitated. He wasn’t particularly skilled at starting conversations with strangers, especially not pretty girls, but something about her presence felt… easy. He cleared his throat, stepping into her line of sight.

“Hey,” Quinn said, his voice a little louder than he intended. Camila glanced up again, her dark eyes meeting his with a soft smile.

“Hi,” she said, her voice calm but warm, but she was a little suprised by the sudden approach.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Not at all,” she replied, scooting over slightly on the log she was sitting on. Quinn sat down, a comfortable distance away, though he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her quiet demeanor. She wasn’t like the others at the party, all loud and over-the-top. There was something incredibly peaceful about her.

“I’m Quinn. We haven’t met before,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Camila,” she responded, offering him a small but genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“I noticed you sitting over here by yourself,” Quinn said, feeling a little awkward. “Is it… just a preference? Or are you just trying to avoid the crowd?”

Camila chuckled softly, shaking her head. “A little of both, I guess. I’m not really the party type. I prefer the quiet. It’s easier to think here.” She nodded toward the fire. “The flames have this… calming effect. I can’t explain it.”

Quinn smiled, nodding in agreement. He wasn’t particularly into loud parties either. Hockey had always been a big part of his life, so he was used to the intense focus that came with that, and he found it hard to relax when everything around him was a blur of noise and movement. “I get that. Sometimes it’s just nice to sit back and enjoy the moment.”

They both looked at the fire for a while, the occasional pop of a log causing both of them to glance toward the flames. Quinn found himself more at ease than he expected. He wasn’t great at starting conversations, but something about Camila made him feel like he didn’t have to try so hard.

“So,” Quinn began, breaking the silence again, “I’m guessing you’re not from around here?”

Camila raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How could you tell?” she asked, her smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Well, it’s just… you’ve got an accent,” Quinn said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Camila laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re right. I’m from Barcelona,” she said, her smile softening. “I moved here a few years ago with my parents.”

“Barcelona?” Quinn repeated, surprised. “That’s… far from here. What’s it like?”

“It’s beautiful,” Camila said, her eyes brightening as she spoke. “The city, the food, the beaches… It’s hard to explain. But it’s home.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Michigan is nice, but it’s very different.”

“I can imagine,” Quinn said, leaning back on the log and watching her as she spoke. He was fascinated by how easily she shifted from being quiet and introspective to animated when talking about her home. It made him want to know more. “So how’s the adjustment been? I mean, living in a place so… different.”

“It’s been a challenge,” she admitted, looking at the fire. “The weather, the culture, the food… everything. But I’m getting used to it. I mean, it’s not all bad. I like it here.”

Quinn nodded, trying to picture it in his mind. “Sounds like it’s been a lot to get used to.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but… it’s life, right? You just adjust.”

He paused for a second, glancing toward the cooler nearby where a few bottles of soda and beer were sitting, then back to her. “Hey, I was gonna grab a drink, want one?” Quinn asked, gesturing to the cooler. “I can bring something over. I’m not sure if you want beer or something else, but there’s plenty of options.”

Camila considered it for a moment before nodding. “Sure, why not. A cherry soda would be nice,” she said, offering him a small smile.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Quinn got up, feeling a little more confident after the smooth exchange. He returned shortly with a can of cherry soda and a bottle of water, handing one over to her with a grin. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the soda with a grateful nod. “Now tell me about yourself,” she turned to him with anticipation.

Quinn chuckled, realizing he hadn’t really introduced himself. “Well… I play hockey for Michigan,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Been with the team for almost a year now. It’s a big part of my life.“

Camila’s eyes flickered with interest. “Really? That’s awesome. I’ve heard a lot about the Michigan hockey team. You guys are pretty good, right?”

Quinn chuckled, a little embarrassed. “I guess so. It’s been a lot of hard work, but I’ve been lucky to play with some amazing guys. My brothers—Jack and Luke—they’re both into hockey too. So it’s kind of a family thing.”

Camila raised an eyebrow. “You guys must be competitive.”

“Oh, we definitely are,” Quinn said with a grin. “But at the end of the day, it’s all about pushing each other to be better. I couldn’t imagine doing it without them.”

“That’s really cool,” Camila said, her smile softening. “It sounds like you have a really tight-knit family. I bet that’s something special.”

“It is,” Quinn agreed, his tone sincere. “They’ve always got my back, even when things get tough.”

“So, how’d you get into hockey?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Quinn shifted a little, considering the question. “I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t love it. My dad put me on skates when I was three, and I just never looked back. It’s always been part of me.”

“That’s pretty incredible,” Camila said, her eyes soft with admiration. “I can tell it’s something you’re passionate about.”

Quinn smiled, feeling a little more relaxed now. “Yeah, I guess you could say it’s my thing.”

They spent the next few hours talking about their favorite movies, music, and some of their university experiences. The night had grown quieter, the soft crackling of the bonfire filling the space between them as the party around them slowly wound down. Quinn could still hear faint laughter and music from the house, but here by the fire, it felt like they were in their own little world.

He glanced at Camila, who had tucked her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them as she gazed into the flames. There was something calming about her presence—like she belonged to this moment more than anyone else.

“Hey,” he started, his voice breaking the silence. Camila turned her head toward him, her expression curious but soft. Quinn hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward. “I, uh… I was thinking. Maybe we could hang out again sometime?”

Camila’s eyes flicked up to meet his, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and nervousness. “You… you want to hang out with me?” she asked softly, her tone uncertain but curious.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his cheeks heating as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, only if you want to. I just… I really enjoyed talking to you tonight.”

Camila bit her bottom lip, her own cheeks warming under his gaze. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater before she nodded slightly. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Quinn’s lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, neither of them seemed to know what to do next. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Uh, do you want to, um, exchange numbers? So I can text you or something?”

Camila’s blush deepened as she nodded. “Yeah, sure. That works.” She pulled out her phone with slightly trembling hands and handed it to him, glancing away to avoid his eyes.

Quinn took it carefully, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment, sending a jolt of nerves through both of them. He quickly typed in his number, double-checking to make sure he hadn’t made any mistakes, before handing the phone back to her.

“There,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Now you’ve got it.”

Camila glanced at the screen, her lips twitching into a shy smile as she saved the contact. “Thanks,” she said softly, her fingers lingering on her phone. After a moment, she added, “I’ll, um, text you first. So you know it’s me.”

Quinn felt his face heat up again, but he nodded, grateful for the gesture. “Yeah, that works,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll look out for it.”

They sat there for a moment longer, both feeling the weight of unspoken words but too shy to say them. Finally, Camila stood up, adjusting her shorts. “I should probably head inside,” she said, her smile apologetic but warm. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, me too,” Quinn agreed, though he didn’t want the night to end. “Goodnight, Camila.”

“Goodnight, Quinn,” she replied, her smile lingering as she turned and walked back toward the house.

Quinn watched her go, a quiet sense of accomplishment washing over him. He hadn’t expected to feel so drawn to someone he’d just met, but something about Camila felt different—special. A small, shy smile played on his lips, his mind replaying their conversation. It wasn’t much, but it felt like the start of something he didn’t want to let go of.

OCTOBER 2017

Quinn stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his light blue button-up shirt for the third time. He stepped back, frowning slightly. Was it too formal? Not formal enough? He sighed and glanced at the dark jeans he’d paired it with, wondering if he should have gone with something else.

His heart was racing, but he told himself to relax. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent time with Camila before. They’d texted and talked constantly over the last few weeks at school or on the phone, but tonight was different. Tonight was their first official date.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his spiral. “Come in,” he said.

His mom, Ellen, stepped in, holding a laundry basket. She smiled warmly when she saw him. “Wow, look at you. You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Quinn said, his cheeks warming.

Ellen set the basket on his bed and looked him over, her mom radar clearly picking up on his nervous energy. “You look great, sweetie. But what’s with the face? Are you nervous?”

Quinn hesitated before nodding. “A little. It’s our first real date, and I’m meeting her parents.”

Ellen’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s a good thing, Quinn. It means she trusts you enough to let you into her life.”

“I guess,” Quinn said, scratching the back of his neck. “But what if I screw it up?”

Ellen chuckled. “You won’t. Just be yourself. Be polite, respectful, and don’t forget to listen. Parents notice how someone treats their child.”

Quinn nodded, taking in her words. “Got it.”

“And one more thing,” Ellen added, tilting her head. “Compliment her. It doesn’t have to be over the top, just something genuine.”

“Mom, I know,” Quinn said, though his blush betrayed him.

“You’re going to do great,” Ellen assured him. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to leave, but before she could make it out the door, Jack barged in, his grin wide.

“Well, well, well,” Jack said, leaning against the doorframe. “Quinn Hughes, about to go on a date. This is groundbreaking.”

“Jack,” Quinn groaned. “Not now.”

“No, no,” Jack said, stepping into the room. “This is important. I need to document this moment for future generations. Should I call Dad? Maybe Luke? They’ll want to hear about this.”

“Jack,” Ellen warned, though her tone was amused.

“Alright, fine,” Jack said, holding up his hands in surrender. He sat down on Quinn’s bed, his mischievous grin firmly in place. “So, what’s the plan? Fancy dinner? Romantic walk? Or are you just winging it?”

“We’re going to that Italian place in the city,” Quinn said, straightening his shirt again.

“Ooh, classy,” Jack said with a mock-serious nod. “And you’re meeting her parents first, right? Good luck with that. Her dad’s probably going to ask you what your intentions are.”

“Jack,” Ellen said, shaking her head.

“What?” Jack said innocently. “I’m just preparing him. He’s going to need all the help he can get.”

Quinn sighed, grabbing his watch from the dresser. “Why are you even in here?”

“Because it’s fun watching you freak out,” Jack said, smirking. “But seriously, don’t trip over your own feet. Or, you know, forget how to talk.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Quinn said dryly, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

Ellen shook her head, patting Quinn’s shoulder. “Ignore him. You’ll be fine.”

She started to leave the room, pausing at the door. “And don’t forget, be home by a reasonable hour.”

“Got it, Mom,” Quinn said.

Once she was gone, Jack leaned back on the bed, grinning. “So, when are you going to introduce her to me? I’m great with parents.”

Quinn threw a pillow at him. “Get out.”

Jack laughed as he dodged the pillow and strolled out of the room, leaving Quinn shaking his head but feeling a little more at ease.

⋆˙⟡

Quinn parked his car in front of Camila’s house, gripping the steering wheel as he took a deep breath. He grabbed the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up earlier and stepped out of the car, heading toward the house.

The front porch light was on, and the house looked warm and inviting, with flower pots lining the steps. After a few knocks, the door opened, and a tall man with dark hair stood in the doorway.

“You must be Quinn,” the man said, extending a hand.

“Yes, sir,” Quinn replied, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bailey.”

“Come in,” Marc, Camila’s dad said, stepping aside. “Camila’s still getting ready.”

Quinn stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. He looked around, taking in the cozy home with its family photos and warm decor. A woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron. She had the same warm brown eyes as Camila and a smile that could put anyone at ease.

“Ah, you must be Quinn!” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“Yes, ma’am,” Quinn said, handing her the flowers.

“Qué detalle tan bonito,” Camila’s mom said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Gracias, Quinn. They’re beautiful.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Marc said, though his tone had softened.

“It’s nothing,” Quinn replied, smiling. “I wanted to.”

Camila’s mom motioned for him to sit down on the couch while she disappeared into the kitchen. Marc settled into the armchair across from him, his gaze steady.

“So,” Marc began, his tone conversational but with an edge of protectiveness. “Camila tells us you play hockey.”

“Yes, sir,” Quinn said. “I play at college.”

Marc nodded, his expression neutral. “And you’re close with your brothers, right? She mentioned that.”

Quinn nodded. “Very close. We grew up playing hockey together. They mean a lot to me.”

Marc studied him for a moment, then leaned back. “Good. Family’s important. Camila’s our only little girl, you know. She means everything to us. So, take care of her, alright?”

Quinn met his gaze, his voice steady. “I will. I promise.”

Before Marc could say more, Camila’s mom reappeared with a plate of cookies. “Quinn, take one, mijo. Eat! They’re traditional cookies from Spain.”

Quinn hesitated, then took a cookie, his cheeks warming at her fussing. “Thank you, Mrs. Bailey.”

“Call me Valeria,” she insisted, waving her hand.

At that moment, Camila came down the stairs. She was dressed in a simple but elegant black top and a flowy skirt, her hair loosely curled. Quinn stood up, his heart skipping a beat.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” Camila replied, her cheeks flushing. “You look nice too.”

Valeria clapped her hands. “¡Qué guapos los dos! You make such a beautiful couple.”

“Mamá,” Camila groaned, clearly embarrassed.

Marc stood and gave Quinn a nod. “You two have fun. But not too much fun,” he added with a pointed look.

“Dad!” Camila exclaimed, her face turning red.

Quinn laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Got it.”

⋆˙⟡

As they stepped out of the front door and walked toward Quinn’s car, Camila let out a small sigh, running her hand through her hair. She felt her cheeks burn as the memory of her parents’ teasing lingered.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Camila said softly, glancing over at Quinn. Her voice was a mix of embarrassment and mild frustration. “They can be a little… much.”

Quinn chuckled, adjusting his grip on the car keys as they reached his car. “You don’t need to apologize. They were really nice.”

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “They were a little overwhelming, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, a bit. But that’s not a bad thing,” he said with a shrug. “It just means they care. Your mom’s really sweet, and your dad—” He hesitated, trying to think of the right words. “Well, he seems like a guy who looks out for his family, which I can respect.”

Camila let out a small laugh, her cheeks still rosy. “Yeah, that’s my dad. He doesn’t take any chances when it comes to me.” She grinned, but there was a softness to her expression

“I can tell,” Quinn said, smiling to himself. He opened the passenger door for her. “But honestly, it’s nice. You know, the whole family thing. It’s clear you’re close to them.”

Her gaze softened at his words, and she looked at him as she slid into the car. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Quinn replied as he closed the door behind her. Then, he made his way around the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. He started the engine, and the car hummed to life.

As they drove away from her house, the city lights streaked past, their quiet chatter filling the space between them. But as the conversation lulled for a moment, Camila turned to him with a genuine, happy smile.

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” she said, her voice quieter, more sincere. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week, actually.”

Quinn glanced at her, his heart fluttering a bit at her words. He glanced back at the road, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? Me too.”

“It’s nice to finally go out on a date with you,” Camila continued, her tone soft and slightly shy but full of excitement. “We’ve been talking for so long now, and it just feels like the right time.”

Quinn’s smile deepened, a warmth filling him. “I agree. It’s been great talking to you. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”

“I’m glad you feel the same way,” she said, turning her head to look out the window for a moment. Then, she turned back to him with a soft smile. “I was a little nervous, but now that we’re finally going out, I feel… I don’t know… happy. Really happy, actually.”

“I’m happy too,” Quinn said, his voice almost quiet but full of sincerity. He glanced at her again, his heart racing slightly. “We’ll have a great time, I’m sure.”

Her smile grew wider, and she looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. “I think we already are.”

And with that, they continued their drive, the evening ahead filled with promise.

DECEMBER 2017

The soft glow of twinkling fairy lights strung along the trees illuminated the frozen lake like tiny stars, their warm light dancing on the smooth, glistening ice. Snow gently fell from the sky, each flake adding to the thick, powdery blanket surrounding the rink. The air was crisp, biting at their cheeks, but the warmth between Quinn and Camila was enough to keep the cold at bay.

Camila clutched Quinn’s arm tightly, her skates wobbling on the ice as she struggled to keep her balance. “Quinn, I’m going to fall!” she exclaimed, her voice somewhere between a laugh and a panic.

“You’re not going to fall, Mils,” Quinn said, his voice calm and steady as he guided her across the ice. His gloved hand covered hers, his hold firm and reassuring. “You’ve got me. Just trust me, okay?”

Camila looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide with both nerves and amusement. “I do trust you, but I don’t trust these skates.”

Quinn laughed, the sound light and warm in the frosty air. “The skates are fine—it’s all about confidence. You just have to glide. Watch me.” He let go of her hand for a moment and skated ahead, his movements smooth and effortless as he turned to face her. “See? Easy.”

Camila stopped in place, her hands flailing slightly as she tried to steady herself. She couldn’t help but admire the way he moved, like he was born to skate. “Easy for you to say,” she muttered under her breath, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Come on, Mils,” Quinn said, extending his hand toward her. “I’ll help you. One step at a time.”

She hesitated for a moment before reaching for his hand, her fingers curling around his. The warmth of his touch, even through the layers of gloves, sent a flutter through her chest. Slowly, he pulled her toward him, skating backward as she followed, her steps tentative but steady.

“See? You’re getting it,” Quinn said, his smile widening as he watched her gain a little confidence.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Camila said, her grin growing as she took another step forward. But just as she started to relax, her skate caught on an uneven patch of ice, and she stumbled forward with a startled yelp.

Quinn caught her instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his face just inches from hers.

Camila’s cheeks flushed, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the way his blue-green eyes seemed to hold her in place. “Thanks,” she whispered, her breath visible in the chilly air.

They stayed like that for a moment, neither of them moving, the world around them fading into the background. Camila’s heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel Quinn’s arms steady and warm around her.

“You’re doing great, Mils,” Quinn said, his voice low and gentle.

“You think so?” she asked, her lips curving into a small, shy smile.

“I know so,” he replied, his gaze flickering down to her lips for just a second before meeting her eyes again.

Camila’s stomach flipped, a nervous but excited energy coursing through her. “You’re sweet, you know that?” she teased, trying to lighten the moment, though her voice came out softer than she intended.

Quinn chuckled, his arms still holding her close. “Only for you,” he said, his words carrying a weight that made her heart skip a beat.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them filled with an unspoken tension. Camila’s gaze drifted to his lips, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. But before she could move, Quinn spoke.

“Mils,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I tell you something?”

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “Of course.”

“I… I’ve really liked spending time with you these past few months,” he said, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “You’re amazing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Camila’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her heart pounding, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. “I’ve been thinking about you too, Quinn,” she admitted, her voice soft but certain.

Quinn’s eyes lit up at her words, and for a moment, he looked like he was trying to decide what to do next. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his movements careful and deliberate, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t.

When their lips met, it was soft and tentative, a gentle brush that sent a spark of warmth through both of them. The kiss deepened slightly as they leaned into each other, their breaths mingling in the cold air. It was sweet and unhurried, a perfect reflection of everything they felt but hadn’t said until now.

When they finally pulled away, Camila couldn’t help but smile, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. “That was… really nice.”

“Yeah?” Quinn asked, his own smile soft and a little shy.

“Yeah,” she said, her gaze meeting his.

Quinn took a deep breath, his hands still resting lightly on her waist. “So, what does this make us now?”

Camila tilted her head, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think… I’d like to call you my girlfriend,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes searching hers for approval.

Camila felt her heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through her chest like sunlight breaking through a winter storm. “I’d like that too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn grinned, his face lighting up in a way that made her stomach flutter. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, her smile widening.

Quinn pulled her into a gentle hug, their skates scraping against the ice as they steadied themselves. “This might be the best winter ever,” he murmured against her hair, his voice full of quiet happiness.

Camila laughed softly, her arms wrapping around him. “I think it might be mine too,” she said, her voice full of warmth and certainty.

As they skated hand in hand under the twinkling lights, their hearts full and their smiles wide, the world around them seemed to fade away. It was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. And for the first time, they both felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

MAY 2020

The Hughes’ backyard was alive with celebration, strung-up lights casting a warm glow over a crowd of friends, family, and teammates. It was a night to honor Quinn’s nomination for the Calder Memorial Trophy, a testament to his incredible rookie season. Laughter and chatter mixed with the faint hum of music, but for Camila, it felt like she was on the outside looking in.

She stood by the drinks table, her hands wrapped around a glass of sparkling water as she watched Quinn move effortlessly through the crowd. He was laughing, smiling, shaking hands—completely in his element. She felt a pang of pride for him, but it was overshadowed by the aching distance she felt growing between them for the past two years.

He hadn’t noticed her standing alone. He rarely did these days.

“Cam!” Jack’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. He approached with his usual grin, but it faltered when he saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

Camila forced a smile. “I’m fine, Jack. Just tired.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, giving her a pointed look. “What’s really going on?”

Camila hesitated, her throat tightening. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded. “Sure.”

They made their way to a quieter corner of the yard, away from the laughter and music. Jack leaned against the fence, his arms crossed. “Alright, spill. What’s going on?”

Camila took a deep breath, her hands trembling. “I’m moving back to Spain. In three days.”

Jack froze, his eyes widening. “What? Spain? Are you serious?”

She nodded, her voice shaking. “My parents need me there, and… I need to go, Jack. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. It’s not just about my family. It’s about me too.”

Jack’s face twisted in disbelief. “Does Quinn know?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, looking away. “I didn’t want to ruin tonight for him. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

Jack shook his head, his voice rising. “Cam, you can’t just drop this on him. Why are you even leaving? You guys have been together for three years.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Because we’re not the same anymore, Jack. I love him, but I miss him. Even when he’s right in front of me, I feel like I’m losing him. We’ve grown apart, and I can’t keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to sadness. “But you’ve always been there for him. You’re part of his life—our life.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And I’ll always care about you guys. But Quinn’s world is so big now, and I feel like I’m just holding him back. And maybe… maybe he’s holding me back too.”

Jack stared at her, his expression torn. “I hate this. You’re my best friend, Cam.”

“I hate it too,” she whispered. “But this is what’s best for both of us.”

Jack pulled her into a tight hug, his voice quiet. “This sucks.”

⋆˙⟡

The house was peaceful, but for Quinn and Camila, it was anything but. She stood in the living room, her arms wrapped around herself, while Quinn sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees, staring down at his hands. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air.

Camila took a deep breath and finally broke the silence. “I think we need to talk.”

Quinn’s head lifted slightly, but he didn’t look at her right away. Instead, he stared at the coffee table in front of him, as though bracing himself for the conversation he knew was coming. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We probably do.”

She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “Quinn, I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this, but there’s no easy way. I’m… I’m moving back to Barcelona.”

Quinn’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto hers. “What?” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “What do you mean you’re moving back? When?”

“In two days,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve already made all the arrangements. My flight’s booked.”

“Two days?” His voice rose slightly, a mixture of hurt and frustration. He pushed himself off the couch, standing up to face her. “You’re telling me this now? After everything? Camila, how could you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Quinn. But I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

“What do you mean it’s not okay?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “We’ve been together for three years. We’ve been through so much. And now, all of a sudden, you’re just… leaving?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to stay composed. “It’s not all of a sudden,” she said softly. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, let alone to you.”

He shook his head, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “Feeling what way? That you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“No, Quinn,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s not about not wanting to be with you. It’s about realizing that we’re not in the same place anymore. You have your career, your priorities, and you’re doing amazing. But me? I feel like I’m stuck, like I don’t know who I am or where I’m going.”

“Then let me help you,” he said, stepping closer to her. “We can figure it out together. You don’t have to do this alone, Mils.”

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “That’s the thing, Quinn. You shouldn’t have to. You’re already carrying so much with your career, and I don’t want to be another weight on your shoulders. You deserve someone who knows what they want, who can support you the way you need.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice tight.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t keep relying on you to hold me together. I need to figure out who I am on my own. And I can’t do that here.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes searching hers for something—anything—that would make her change her mind. “So, what? You’re just walking away? Throwing everything we have away?”

“It’s not throwing it away,” she said, stepping closer to him. “It’s letting it go because I care about you too much to keep dragging us through this. We’re not the same people we were when we started dating, Quinn. And that’s okay.

He looked at her, his face a mixture of heartbreak and anger. “That’s such bullshit,” he said quietly. “If you love someone, you fight for them.”

“I have been fighting,” she said, her voice breaking. “But it’s not just about love, Quinn. It’s about timing, about priorities. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, and I’m… I’m lost. I need to go home, to figure things out. For me.”

Quinn turned away from her, his hands on his hips as he tried to process her words. The room was silent except for the sound of Camila’s shaky breaths.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought we had more time.”

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. “I thought so too.”

He turned back to her, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with determination. “I’ll always love you, Mils. And I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

“I’ll always love you too,” she said, her voice barely audible. “And that’s why I have to do this. For both of us.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. Then, Quinn stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest as her tears soaked into his shirt.

“Promise me something,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “Promise me you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

She nodded, her heart breaking all over again. “I promise.”

He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he let her go. “I guess this is it, then.”

Camila nodded, tears still dripping down her cheeks.

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heart heavy with every step. She paused at the threshold, looking back at him one last time. He stood there, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world had finally caught up to him.

“Goodbye, Quinn,” she said softly.

“Goodbye, Mils,” he replied, his voice barely audible.

As she walked out of the Hughes’ home, out of his life, Quinn stood there, the weight of their love and their loss settling over him. Their story had come to an end. And though it was painful, they both knew it was the right choice.

© amourquinn