#last night i dreamed that i went back to the town i grew up in

[theygender]

If the symbolism in my stress dreams could get a little less heavy handed that would be great

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Feeding

Male Half-Demon Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader CW: Noncon, blood drinking, biting/cutting for blood, making out, drugged sex, drugged reader, forced addiction, overstimulation, reader fucked well and truly out of their mind whilst high on demon blood, aftercare, general yandere behavior Word count: 1.6k (Sorry this took forever. The image of reader sitting on dick while sucking blood from a wrist was living rent free in my head and I had to write this. Written on my phone, hopefully I fixed all the weird formatting and typos.)

The full moon shone brightly in the clear winter night. With each exhale, your breath plumed out visibly. The shadows of trees stretched long and spindly, grasping for a material world they were incapable of grabbing hold of. You hid amongst the bushes, silently watching the small bar in front of you. It was a secluded place. Quiet and down the road from anything else. Perfect for a person to grab a drink. Even a vampire like yourself. This was your first night in this town, but there were almost always places like this to slake your thirst. 

Wait for a drunk customer to come stumbling out and nab them to have a drink of your own. Then, if you needed to, use your hypnotic powers to make them think it was all a dream. 

That's what you had intended tonight. But then you caught a whiff of a human that smelled much more tempting than any other you had ever encountered. 

The bartender. Your sharp ears could pick up his name even from outside. Wade. Not that you needed to bother knowing it.

You decided to wait for the last lingering patron to leave the bar before sneaking in and making your move. It took a few hours, and your joints grew stiff in the cold, but finally, the bartender was alone, and you could make your move. You were practically salivating as you slipped into the bar, and his scent hit you more directly. You couldn't wait to taste what waited in his veins. Luckily, you didn't have to. 

"Sorry, we've just closed," he said as he heard you enter.

With superhuman speed, you rushed behind him, barely having time to note the surprised expression on his face. 

You wasted no time on pleasantries and sank your fangs into his neck.

Instantly, you were lost in his flavor. His blood was glorious. But after one drink, your eyes glazed and your thoughts were foggy. 

He plucked you off of him easily, and you fell to the floor, dizzy and confused but yearning for more of him. You were so thirsty. A mild sense of euphoria washed over you, but your body felt weak and wobbly. 

Wade stared down at you, smirking. His brown hair turned silver, small black horns sprouted from his forehead, and his hazel eyes glowed red.

"What's wrong? Bit off more than you could chew?"

Not much blood had been consumed, so you started to get to your feet, but Wade wanted you nice and helpless. He rubbed his fingers to the bite mark you had left and shoved his fingers into your mouth and smeared the drug on your tongue. You immediately slumped against the counter.

He went and locked up the bar before returning to your side and administering another hit of his blood. You eagerly drank it up. It was too irresistible. 

Then he gently led you downstairs where he apparently lived. 

"Didn't realize I was part demon or didn’t know demon blood was like a narcotic? Maybe you didn't know either of those..." 

He tossed you on the bed rather unceremoniously.

"Thought you were gonna get an easy meal, but you're gonna feed me too!"

Assuming that he ate beings with magic, you looked up at him with a horrified expression and scrambled to get off the bed. He stopped you and pushed you back.

"I'm nourished by intoxication and addiction the way sex and lust nourishes an incubus," he explained, having noted the fear on your face.

Though you still had a fierce thirst for his blood, you weren't addicted. Yet. Just significantly increased blood cravings. You had the presence of mind to know what he intended, and you didn't want to be a captive.

"You can't do this!"

The effects of his blood on your body were rapidly wearing off. It had only been a small amount. You could use your speed to zip awa-

"I can do whatever I want to a little leech like you~" 

Wade pinned you on the bed and used the sharp nail of his thumb to slice his wrist before shoving his wrist to your mouth. You tried to turn away and keep your mouth closed, but you could feel the warm blood tingle your lips, and the smell was all-encompassing. Tired of your struggles, he smacked you hard across the cheek. You could have shrugged off a strike from a normal human, but he had demonic strength. As he had anticipated, you cried out in pain. With your mouth open, he jammed his bloody wrist right into your mouth. 

Once a drop had touched your tongue for the third time that night, all your resolve melted away. You relaxed under him and greedily lapped at his wrist. Now that it was in you, you needed more.

As you gave into your dark desires and fed off Wade, he fed off the intoxication and the budding addiction growing inside you. 

But the whole situation had his cock straining painfully in his jeans. 

He maneuvered your clothes off as well as his, but your attention was focused on your meal. You whimpered and grabbed for his arm as he pulled it away to lube up his cock. Just because he was doing this for nourishment didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. Besides, being all cute and needy for his blood made you look far too tempting for the half-demon. 

He pulled you into his lap and slid his thick cock into you.

Wade put his arm up to you so you could suckle from his wrist as he slowly fucked into you. A large demonic cock like Wade's would have stretched and hurt the hole of any human, but you were far more durable. In fact, it felt quite nice. His blood seemed to heighten pleasurable sensations while reducing unpleasant ones.

You moaned softly as you fed.

"That's it, take alllll you want babe. I regenerate faster than you can drink."

It must have been true. His wound had healed and you had to bite his wrist to draw more blood. He didn't seem to mind. 

The demon kissed your neck and sucked it softly as he continued pumping into you. Never too hard to interrupt your meal. 

He kept the slow and considerate pace until you had finished. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of your face, your eyes glossy and half lidded. You were barely cognizant of your surroundings anymore. All you knew was that you felt warm, happy, relaxed and, for the first time since you had turned, alive.

Wade angled your face towards him and kissed you deeply from behind, enjoying the taste of blood from your lips and the rush of energy he got from getting you high. He brushed his tongue against your fangs to draw blood so you could suck it while the two of you made out sloppily. The half-demon broke the kiss, a sanguine string of saliva and blood connected your lips for a moment. Wade hastened the tempo of his thrusts into you as his mind raced over the implications of having you. 

A human would have died from just a drink of demon's blood. That's why he blended each bottle of booze in his bar with but a single drop. Just enough to subconsciously coax humans to crave coming back to his bar and give Wade a bit more intoxication to sustain himself. But he didn't have to hold back with you at all. 

Rapturous moans left your body as your pleasure reached its zenith. Your normally frighteningly pale face was actually flushed.

"You enjoying yourself?" Wade smirked and kept going.

You could only weep silently as the overwhelming sensations from the drug and sex mingled into an overwhelming wave of ecstasy bearing down brutally upon you. 

With supernatural stamina he kept going for hours, he readministered his blood as needed. Every time he made you cum you whimpered. Each orgasm seemed to hold within it a greater and greater threat of throwing you off the brink of sanity and shattering your mind. 

By the end of it, when he had finally had enough after filling you with cum over and over again, you were a shaky drooling mess. His demonic features faded away as he picked you up. Then he took you to the tub and bathed you gently, getting all the dried blood off your face and cleaning up all the semen leaking from your hole. 

"Sorry I had to give you so much. Have to get you hooked on it."

Wade picked you up and wrapped you in a soft towel. You were too out of it to respond.

"The crashes aren't bad though at least. Extreme cravings but no life threatening illness or anything."

He kissed your forehead and tucked you in before getting under the covers and spooning you. 

"You're gonna love it here I promise. All the blood you want. I'm not just keeping you here to feed me, I could see glimpses inside your mind when your inebriation nourished me."

The half-demon ran a hand soothingly up and down your side.

"I know we're compatible lovers. You'll see."

You could hear his words but could just barely process them. 

"B-but.." You protested weakly.

"Hush now. You need to rest."

He put his arm around your waist and held you protectively. It was so much easier to just let sleep claim you than it was to resist.

Wade stayed up far longer though. All the thoughts of the wonderful life you two would share together running through his head and keeping him awake. It would be amazing. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

He'd treat you so well and make sure his little vampire was always happy. And he'd keep you hopelessly addicted to his blood. You'd be so helpless and dependent on him that you'd simply never be able to escape.

[ashwhowrites]

eddie munson x cheerleader/popular reader, where the reader keeps asking eddie out on a date but he keeps rejecting them because why would a popular person want to be with him. Anyways, maybe something happened that made him realize that he believes them and would like to go out with them.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Asking me out?

Y/N recently grew a crush on Eddie, the town's freak. She never saw something in him before, but all it took was one moment for it to change.

It was a Friday night and she was freezing her ass off on the field. But a big fake smile plastered on her face as she did the cheers. She let her eyes wander as the game played, and then she saw Eddie. He stood off to the side smoking a cigarette, she was surprised he wasn't asked to leave. He had one hand in his pocket and his hair was covered with a black beanie. He must have felt her stare because he looked in her direction.

She froze as she couldn't look away, his eyes kept her in a daze. His eyes warmed up her body and she felt her face burn when he winked.

That was all it took, that night she dreamed about it and woke up with the biggest crush she's ever had.

When Monday rolled around she had a skip in her step. She wanted to ask Eddie out, she knew she'd sound crazy with it coming out of nowhere but who cares.

She found him at lunch and walked over to his table. A big smile on her face as she stood in front of him. He was so cute that it made her want to giggle for years. She was shocked that the girls didn't see how attractive he was.

"Can I talk to you?"

His table went silent

Eddie looked at her confused

"Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, her eyes never left him so it was clear who she meant. But he had no idea why.

She grabbed his hand and lifted him from the chair, he looked over at his friends as she pulled him into the hallway. She dropped his hand and turned around to face him

"I'm Y/N," she said as she smiled

"I know," he said, "I mean! I'm Eddie," he stuttered

"I know," she said with a small wink. Eddie wasn't sure if his heart racing was a good or bad thing.

"I saw you at the football game on Friday, and this might sound very forward, but I think you are insanely attractive and I'd love to go out on a date with you, maybe tonight?"

Eddie felt the need to clean his ears because there was no way Y/N, the prettiest cheerleader, asked him out. He stared at her like she had multiple heads, and he had a feeling it coming out of nowhere was a trap. He would love to say "hell yes" but he was tired of being burned by people.

"I can't tonight, I have to babysit," he lied

"That's okay, how about tomorrow?" she asked

"I babysit all week and the weekend. You know, parents have kids but never want to take care of them," he nervously laughed

Y/N felt blown off and had a bad feeling he was lying. She was disappointed but she shrugged it off.

"Have fun, Eddie. Maybe another time," she spoke quietly, far less enthusiastic than before. And that made Eddie feel like shit.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, watching as her shoulders slumped as she walked back into the cafeteria.

~~~

In case he was telling the truth and had to babysit, she tried again for that "another time."

"Hey Eddie, do you want to get a bite to eat after the game?"

"I have to be home right away, I'm sorry"

And then she tried another time, and another, and another. He always seemed to be busy. But she really liked him and she wanted to try one last time.

Eddie was sitting against the school's building as he waited for Wayne to pick him up, his van decided to not start and left him stranded.

Y/N walked over, standing at his feet.

Eddie looked up as a shadow covered him. There she was, beautiful as ever. She made Eddie nervous and he didn't like to be nervous.

"What are you sitting out here for?" she asked, Eddie could feel his stomach flutter when she smiled.

"Van died so waiting for my ride," he shrugged

"I can give you a ride, and as a thank you for it maybe we could get ice cream?" she offered, more shy each time since she knew he'd say no.

"He's already on his way so you don't have to worry about me," he said as he stood up

"What about just ice cream then? I can pick you up." She kept trying and he kept shutting her down

"I'll probably be in the shop with my van, but once it's fixed I should have some free time, I'll find you."

~~~

Eddie arrived in his van a few days later, and he never talked to her. It hurt to admit, but he was never going to say yes and she had to move on.

He found her eyes and quickly looked away, when he looked again she was gone.

A few days passed and she stopped walking up to him. Sometimes they'd make eye contact, and she'd smile and then look away. Anytime she walked in his direction he held his breath, letting it free when she walked passed him.

He missed talking to her, even if it was always two sentences. He liked having her attention but he was scared of what would come after if he said yes. Would a bucket of water be dumped on him? Was it a bet? Would he find himself shoved in a closet and beaten up?

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

~~

Eddie was walking to his campaign when he walked passed the gym and heard his name.

He peeked inside to see Y/N and Chrissy stretching. Eddie was a simple guy so he had to take his time looking at Y/N as she sat in her uniform.

"Are you going to try again?" Chrissy asked, her hand stretched out to her feet

"No," Y/N sighed

"What? But you really like him!" Chrissy gasped

"Chris, it's clear he doesn't like me. I can count the amount of times he said no on two hands. I'm done embarrassing myself. It's a crush, I'll get over it," Y/N shrugged

"Yeah, but you haven't liked a guy in a long time! Are you sure you want to give up?"

"I know you are trying to be a good friend, but you won't change my mind. If he liked me, he would make time work in his apparently busy schedule. I'm probably not his type and that's okay." Y/N explained, mostly trying to make herself feel better.

"You're right, but his loss because I know a ton of single guys who have been asking about you!" Chrissy gushed

Eddie was leaning so far that the door opened and he fell right through. He cussed as he landed on his stomach. The fall caught the girl's attention and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Eddie? Oh my are you okay?" Y/N asked, rushing over

Chrissy was behind her, a look of worry on her face

"I'm good," he said through clenched teeth. He moved to his knees and felt soft hands helping him stand up. Once he was on his feet he wanted to run.

"Were you pushed?" Y/N asked, worried he might have been getting picked on.

Eddie couldn't tell which was less embarrassing

"Uh no, I was eavesdropping, and well karma," he said as he brushed his dirty hands against his jeans. Chrissy nodded and backed away, giving them privacy to talk.

"Oh! So you heard all of that, huh?" Y/N asked, groaning in embarrassment

"Yeah and look I'm sorry I kept rejecting you. I wasn't sure if you were serious or not and I was a little scared," Eddie said

"Scared of what? and why would I be lying?" she asked

"You're popular and I've never had a popular girl take interest in me that wasn't for some type of joke. I figured you were asking me out as a joke or to set me up for something. And I'm sorry for assuming, I didn't know you genuinely like me."

"I can understand that. I hope you know that I'd never do something cruel to anyone. I'm not like that," she explained

"And I believe you. I know I kinda had a million shots to go out with you and I fucked them all up. But can I make it up to you?" he asked, hope in his eyes as she smiled

"Are you asking me out, Eddie?" she teased

"I am," he said as he smiled, "What do you say?"

"I think I'm busy for the whole year, sorry," she said, Eddie stood shocked as she turned around and walked away.

He felt his body slump at the rejection, but he guessed he deserved it. He turned around and headed out of the gym.

He made it down the hall when he heard his name being called, he turned around.

"That's for saying no. But I'd love to go out with you," she said as she walked towards him

"I did deserve that," he laughed but walked towards her, "tonight after practice, we can grab that bite to eat?"

"I'll see you then," she said with a smile. She leaned in and pecked his cheek softly.

Eddie blushed as her lips touched his skin

He watched as she walked back to practice, head in the clouds.

Tags!

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[zaczenemiji]

Hello Dearest Writer! I have read the Shattered Pride that you wrote which I like it! and I hope you don't mind me requesting ^^. I wanted to request for a lil' bit angsty Kenji Sato x Reader, where kenji & reader have a heated argument that leads to reader with tears streaming down her face from kenji's hurtful words and attempted to remove her engagement ring and proposed to end things for the better and kenji got scared and regret everything he said, so he asked for forgiveness, convinced her to stay and makes it up for her. Thank you so much, Writer! I hope you have a nice day!

Second to None

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,076

Genre/Warning: Angst, Character Development, Drama, Established Long-Term Relationship, Heartbreak, hurt/Comfort, Redemption

Author’s Note: My works are becoming longer lately 🤧 Is that a good thing or not?

MASTERLIST | Shattered Pride

The reservation; a special menu and a gift sat neatly wrapped beside your plate. Your eyes dart to the door every few minutes, eagerly yet anxiously anticipating Kenji’s arrival.

The minutes turned into an hour, each second becoming agonizingly longer than the last. Your discomfort became noticeable to those who arrived before and after you.

Some couples came in pairs. Others also waited but the arrival of their beloveds was only half as long as the duration of your waiting.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to order now, miss?” He asked gently.

"Not yet," you replied, forcing a smile. "He should be here any minute." You smoothed down your dress, avoiding any more contact with someone who isn’t Kenji.

“Are you on your way? Our reservation was at 7,” your message long showed as delivered, but still, no reply, and all your calls went straight to voicemail.

Your heart sank as the waiter returned, his expression more apologetic than before, "Shall I bring you a drink while you wait?"

"Yes, please," you answered, trying to mask your growing disappointment. You chose a glass of your favorite wine with Kenji, hoping the familiar taste would bring some comfort.

It was your fifth anniversary together, a milestone you had been looking forward to for weeks. Yet just like last year, it seemed like this would be a missed one too.

The first years of your relationship were pure bliss. The years that followed were less exciting but more comfortable. Yet from last year til today, some things were never the same.

At first, it felt like it was just because both of you had gotten used to each other. But as time progressed, it started seeming like your relationship was just a background—a television turned on not for the sake of watching, but for the sake of not being alone.

It started with last year’s missed anniversary; he said that it was an important out-of-town game that he couldn't skip. "I'm so sorry, the game went into extra innings and I missed the last train back. I'll be home late.”

He went home the next day.

You reminisced your first anniversary, a weekend getaway, a brief escape from your busy lives. The second, you had gone to a cozy little restaurant. The third had been a quiet dinner at home.

The fourth anniversary was marked by absence and loneliness; as this year’s. It wasn't the first time Kenji's baseball career had come between you, but you had hoped that anniversaries would be different.

You started to wonder if you would always come second to his dreams.

Another hour passed and the restaurant began to empty as the night grew older. "Kenji, I'm still here. Please call me." But still, there was no response.

Finally, your phone buzzed, "I'm so sorry, practice ran late and then we had a team meeting. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can."

You stared at the message, a tear slipping down your cheek. You heard similar apologies countless times before, each one chipping away at your patience and hope.

You signaled the waiter and asked for the check. You couldn't sit there any longer and pretend that everything was fine.

You walked out into the cool night, clutching the small gift you had brought for Kenji. The streets were quiet, the city's usual buzz dulled by the lateness of the hour.

You felt a profound loneliness, one that wasn't just about this night but about the accumulation of missed moments and broken promises.

When you finally got home, the flat was dark. You placed the untouched gift on the table and changed into more comfortable clothes.

You were too drained, emotionally, to even wait for Kenji in case he’d come over. You lay down on your bed, more than willing to sleep off the pain you just can’t get used to.

As your consciousness was being tugged to sleep, your phone buzzed again. It was Kenji, calling. And for the first time, you decided to put yourself first and slept.

Morning came and you sat at the dining table, a half-empty glass of wine in front of you. It was far too early to be drinking, but the remnants of last night's disappointment and loneliness still clung to you, and you needed something to numb the ache.

You swirled the wine in your glass, your mind replaying the evening over and over. The beautifully wrapped gift lay discarded on the coffee table.

You immediately slept last night but somehow, you hoped that Kenji would walk through the door with some grand gesture, some sign that he valued your relationship as much as she did. But he never came.

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulled you from your thoughts. Kenji walked in, looking exhausted and worn. His eyes immediately found yours, and he saw the wine glass in your hand.

"You're drinking this early?" he asked, concern laced with surprise. You didn't respond, just took another sip.

The silence was heavy, filled with all the words you wanted to say but didn't know how to begin. You set the glass down and met his gaze.

"Do you even realize what day it was yesterday, Kenji?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Of course, I do. I'm so sorry. Practice ran late and then there was an unexpected team meeting. I—“

"You always have an excuse,” You cut him off, your voice rising. “Do you know how many times I've heard 'practice ran late' or 'there was a meeting’? I'm tired of it!"

"I know," he said, trying to calm you down. "I really wanted to be here, but you know how important baseball is to me."

"And what about me, Kenji? Am I not important to you?" you snapped, tears welling up in your eyes. "I've sacrificed everything for you! I left my career, my family, my friends, everything to come to Japan and support you! And for what? To be stood up on our anniversary again?"

His face tightened, "It's not like that. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to come with me."

You took a step back, your voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it's my fault now?” You asked. “I chose to support you because I believed in us. But it feels like I'm the only one making sacrifices here."

"That's not fair," he retorted, frustration creeping into his tone. "I work hard for us. I'm trying to build a future for us."

"But at what cost, Kenji?" you shot back. "Every time I need you, you're not there. Every important moment, every milestone, you're always somewhere else. Do you even understand how lonely that is?"

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words, "I'm doing my best. It's just... baseball is my dream. I can't give that up."

"And what about my dreams?" you cried, your voice breaking. "I had a career I loved, a life I was proud of! I gave all that up for you, believing that you would be there for me, that we would support each other. But it feels like I'm the only one who gave anything up!”

He took a deep breath, his own anger rising. "I never asked you to give up your career!” He said. “You made that choice!”

Your eyes widened in shock and pain. "I made that choice because I loved you—because I thought we were building a life together,” you said, voice softening and heart breaking. “But it seems like I'm the only one who sees it that way."

There was a long silence as you two stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Slowly, you reached for your engagement ring, your hands shaking.

"What are you doing?" Kenji asked, panic creeping into his voice.

You struggled to remove the ring, tears streaming down your face. "Maybe we're fooling ourselves, Kenji,” you said in between sobs. “Maybe this isn't working. I can't keep feeling like I'm second to your career. Maybe it's better if we end this now."

His heart raced, panic surged through him, and his voice trembled with desperation. "No, please don't," he said, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but hesitating to touch you. "I'm sorry for everything I've said. I didn't mean it. I love you, and I can't lose you."

You looked at him, the ring held loosely in your hand. "Do you really love me, Kenji?” You asked. “Or do you love the idea of me being here, waiting for you, always understanding and never complaining?"

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "I love you. I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. But I promise I'll do better. Just please, don't leave me."

His eyes filled with tears as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. "I love you," he said, his voice breaking. "I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. Every time I chose baseball over you, I was wrong. I see that now.”

“Please, don't take off that ring. Don't leave me,” he pleased. “I can't imagine my life without you."

You looked down at him, your own tears blurring your vision, “How can I believe you, Kenji?"

He reached out, taking her hands in his and holding them tightly. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you,” he said. “I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life. I'll talk to my coach, I'll cut back on practice—anything. Just please, give me one more chance."

You hesitated, the pain and love warring within you. His eyes were filled with genuine fear and remorse, and you could feel his hands trembling. "One more chance, Kenji,” you said. “But things have to change. I can't keep feeling like this."

He nodded fervently, pulling you into a tight embrace, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and fear. "I promise, things will change,” he said. “I'll make it up to you, I swear. I love you more than anything. Please, believe me."

The next morning, Kenji came over early and made you breakfast, a small but heartfelt gesture to start making amends. He took the morning off practice and thought of having breakfast together.

Over the next few weeks, Kenji made noticeable changes. He began to prioritize your time together, making sure to balance his demanding baseball schedule with moments that were just for you two.

One evening, as you sat on the couch watching a movie, Kenji turned to you with a serious expression, "I talked to a few people, and I found a way for you to continue your work here in Japan.”

You looked at him, curiosity and hope in your eyes, "What do you mean?"

“There are some production companies interested in meeting with you,” he said. “I want you to have your career back, to have something that's yours."

Tears welled up in your eyes, this time from gratitude and joy. "Kenji, that's... I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. "I want you to be happy. I want us to build our lives together, supporting each other's dreams,” he said. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you were sacrificing."

True to his word, Kenji began to make your relationship a priority. He surprised you with small dates, like picnics in the park or quiet dinners at home. He even started learning a bit of Japanese cuisine to cook your favorite meals.

Kenji made it a point to never miss another important moment, attending every event and celebration that mattered to you. He cheered you on as you restarted your career, eager to see you shine.

In the end, you both learned that love required effort and compromise from both sides. It wasn't always easy, but you faced your challenges together, knowing that your love was worth fighting for. And with each passing day, you both found yourselves more deeply in love, more committed to the life you were building together.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 

But it was closure. 

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 

It felt fresh. New. Clean. 

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 

At first, he dreamt of death. 

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 

It didn’t even really look like a gate. 

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 

Pomegranates. 

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 

He knew her. He knew her. 

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 

You were always alone. 

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 

Not yet, anyway. 

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 

Safety - an unknown feeling. 

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 

Then one night, he saw himself. 

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 

Safe. 

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 

Certainly not 1988. 

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

[unformula1]

promises - 1 (ln4)

part 2 || you and lando used to be best friends, but you two drifted apart. (1464 words) a/n: im back ! should i make a part 2?? || masterlist

You and Lando used to be friends. Best friends, one might say. The two of you were inseparable. Every Friday night, without fail, both of you would meet up at the playground near the central district of your hometown. The playground would usually be empty, with most children staying in with their parents. This gave you and Lando the whole playground, all to yourselves.

It was perfect to make the purest memories. Just two kids, pure innocence and naivety, and a friendship which felt like forever. You’d talk about which toy cars were the better ones, he’d always say the orange ones. You two would laugh about the silliest things, and promise each other to be friends forever. 

You two grew up together, went through the teenage years with each other, there in the highs and lows. Every Friday night became every night. You two would see each other daily, at the same playground. As both of you matured, so did your conversations, you two started talking about your love lives, your future.

Both of you sat on the ground, leaning against the wooden base of the slide which both of you used to ride together.

~~~

“I mean… It seems pretty cool.” You tell him.

“It is.” Lando confirms, “I’ve been doing it since I was a small kid, just zooming around.”

You chuckle as Lando mimics driving a go-kart.

“You see yourself driving them forever?” You ask, shifting closer to him.

“Hell yeah.” He replies confidently, not a single ounce of doubt in his voice.

“Alright then.” You smile, “Go for it.”

“You’ll be there right?” He asks you.

“I will. You’ll remember me right?”

“Yes.”

~~~

Both of you made promises, whether they were the shallowest things or the deepest feelings. He never left you alone, you never made fun of him for the quirky things he liked. He stood by you when the worst was brought upon you, when you cried about some stupid boy not liking you back, when you lost your only ticket to your dream university.

~~~

You sat on the floor of his room, wiping away the dried up tears on your face. You’ve never felt this vulnerable to anyone. He lays down next to you and props himself up onto his elbow, looking at you. You glance back at him as he fiddles with his hair. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” You ask, letting out a soft chuckle as you continue to wipe off your tears.

“Sorry.” He replies, laughing a little, “They don’t deserve you anyway.” 

He sits up and shrugs.

“You could do better.” He deadpans.

Your lips curve up ever so slightly.

“Well-” You sigh, “I guess I’ll stay here forever.”

Both of you laugh again.

“So will I.”

~~~

But he didn’t. Lando Norris left the town in pursuit of greater things.

“You’re leaving?” The realisation hits you.

He sheepishly nods.

Your emotions are all jumbled up into one big mess, everything just engulfing your heart as tears start falling.

“Oh-” Lando says before hugging you tightly.

You hug him back, your tears staining his sweater.

“C’mon now… don’t get all teary on me.” Lando says, clearing stifling down sobbing sounds.

You can’t let out any words.

~~~

It finally came a few months later. You stood in the airport, face to face with Lando. You felt the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, letting all the memories from the youngest ages of childhood flow through your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

He looks at you with his stupid little grin, his eyes getting watery as he purses his lips, taking in deep breaths. 

You run up to him and hug him, for what might be the last time ever. It’s a tight hug, one surrounded by years of friendships and years of memories all building up. He sobs on your shoulder, jerking slightly each sob as you grip tightly to him, never wanting to let go.

But you have to. Both of you take a step back. Lando takes out a necklace for you.

“For you.” He says, “I have a matching one.”

You sob violently and take the necklace, immediately putting it around your neck and holding onto it with a deathly grip.

He reaches out for your hand. Both of you hold hands for a few seconds, he closes his eyes once again as the tears traced his cheekbone and clung onto his jaw, trickling down slowly.

“We’ll stay in contact.” He says softly in between heavy sobs as he pulls you in one last time, patting you on the back.

“We better.” You crack a joke which makes him giggle. He nods more and pats your shoulder.

The moment has to come to an end eventually, with a heavy heart he takes a step back. He looks you in the eyes one last time and you stare at his brown-blue glistening eyes which sparkled.

You’ll miss those.

You’ll miss him.

You’ll miss all of this.

As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves slightly. You look back at him, wishing you could be there with him, flying somewhere same. Something wants you to run up to him and hold on tight to him but you stay put, waving goodbye to him. 

He holds up the necklace and smiles at you, you smile back at him, choking through the tears which suffocate your lungs as the sting in your throat resurfaces. You hold the necklace up to him too and for the last time, he nods at you, turning around and slowly disappearing from your view.

You stand there. 

What do you do now?

What are the weekly nights reserved for now?

Will you ever see Lando again?

———

The nights felt empty and missing a piece, because they were. You missed sitting with him in the cool breeze of the evening or in the dim lights of the nearby stores, talking about things that you would never tell anyone else. You missed all of it, every single angry, sad, happy, nostalgic moment. It was hard to change your entire life, you called him and texted him every single waking minute of your life and he did so too. However, it never felt the same. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night just to imagine he was there with you again and your tears would involuntarily come trickling down again. 

Eventually, you got used to it, like you do.

The years past much quicker than you imagined. You watched Lando grow from a young karter to Formula 1 driver. Sometimes you catch yourself watching his races and other times you see his face in the billboards across town.

You don’t know if he remembers you but both of you practically lost contact after you two stopped texting a few years back. It was rough. Both of you made each other the world, you made him your world. Absolutely nothing was going to stand in your way, but time took its path, and fate drew its sword. It was something that you could never change no matter how hard you tried. Even with empty days and sleepless nights just pretending and wishing and hoping that something would happen. It wouldn’t. 

So you had come to peace with it, he was just another passing chapter in your life, meeting once and never again, ingrained in the stone of life.

You were proud of him, for making it this far. You really were. Nothing would ever make you wish anything but the best for him; after all, he was the biggest boy in your life at one point, and nothing would change that. You were incredibly happy for him, for how much effort he’d put into this, he deserved everything. You even watched him win his first race in Miami.

You shed a tear or two. The memories of everything flooding back into your head, just remembering Lando as a young kid saying to you he’d take over the world. He did. You were proud.

But you weren’t there.

Were the promises you made all empty? Just passing in the moment to be carried by the wind and never to be seen or heard ever again?

You sat on the couch watching him take the top step of the podium, holding up the trophy as the sunlight serenaded his face. The familiar sparkle of his eyes stood out to you, it was like when he left. This time his tears were happy ones. 

Your tears were bittersweet.

A few hours pass and a chime from your phone gets you off your couch and reaching for your phone.

You got an Instagram DM, from landonorris.

[jaylver]

ROCKLAND — P.SH

synopsis: almost like a nightmare, park sunghoon plagues your present just as much as your past regrets had done. however, this time around, you and him decided to right your wrongs one last time.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, miscommunications, angst, second chance romance

warning(s): profanities, brief mentions of smoking, drinking, partying and alcohol

wc: 8k

a/n: i'm BACK. this has been in the works for far too long because of the constant writer's block so i'm not sure if it's good or not, plus it's my first exes to lovers so please be nice <3 greatly inspired by gracie abram's "rockland", so do give it a listen too! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

If there was one thing you’d regret forever in this lifetime, it would be ending things with the love of your life.

You admit it, you’re selfish. Selfish for wanting to leave the town you grew to hate, selfish for prioritising yourself and chasing your dreams, choosing to leave the people you loved instead. Painted a villain in the eyes of many close to the person you once went home to and even the man himself. But, how could he fully blame you when he was equally selfish too?

Park Sunghoon thought keeping you in the cage of this small town was going to make him a happy man. He often fantasised about the possibility of you and his future together, completely pushing aside the thought of you leaving, until it actually happened.

He was angry. He let himself be consumed by his own feelings and mindlessly projecting his anger and blame on you, while you regretfully did the same.

Pools of tears and venomous words spewed out of impulse left you scarred and broken down. It was a bad ending that you’d see in movies coming to life. The moment you had everything packed and goodbyes said, you figured leaving was for the best, now that your ex hates you and his friends who probably felt the same. 

It was a shame, though. Heading to somewhere far from home with a heavy heart knowing you didn’t have the chance to see him once more. Frankly, you were a coward, and so was he.

That explained why returning back home was the scariest thing you had to face in a while. 

It was ironic, wasn't it? Coming back to the place you wished for years to escape and actually doing so, but eventually having to return after you dropped out of the college that you've been praying and praying to get into, only for it to be overwhelming and the city lights couldn't compare to the starry night of your hometown.

You suppose you got the thing you wanted, but it just wasn't what you imagined.

Freshly twenty-two and out of school, you figured home was what you needed in your next step before deciding if you should re enrol. However, you find yourself not having the guts to face your family and friends, not after the promises turned out to be empty. 

"You should quit smoking," 

Yunjin, your cousin and practically your closest friend growing up, was just a distance away when you spotted her, leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand. You found it amusing how she didn't cave into vapes instead in this day and age. 

"Y/N!" She pushed the bud of her half smoked cigarette into the wall, then started jogging towards you, her dress flowing in the wind and boots making obnoxious clicks against the ground. There was a sense of relief in her eyes, her usual smile that you missed graced your presence. "God, I missed you, things aren't the same without you here,"

In the span of a few seconds of her hug, you took the chance to digest her words. Did that mean the traditions you've upheld are now gone? Parties, trips to the beach, all those? 

"What?"

Yunjin pulled away, still managing a small smile. "I don't think things were ever the same since you left … and after you broke up with Sunghoon,"

You blinked, looking away into the distance. "I don't think I'll be welcomed,"

Yunjin scoffed, slapping your arm and scurrying to get your bags. "Don't say that! So not true. Everyone in the family is waiting for you to be back—"

"And talk behind my back about my failure in graduating? Yeah, no,"

‘‘That’s not going to happen,” Yunjin sighed, struggling with your bags and declining your help, but you still forcefully grabbed some knowing she’d eventually crumble. “I think they’ll get it,”

Would they?

Once you are settled into the car, bags successfully loaded into the trunk, you let yourself melt into the comforts of Yunjin’s passenger seat, finally getting to close your eyes and drift away. You thought it was best before having to face everything and everyone once again.

“What’s your plan now, anyway?”

Without opening your eyes, you envisioned a distant image in your head. “Take my time off and see if I’d like to re enrol or not. If I don’t, I’ll just go plan B,”

“Which is?”

“Accept the job offer in London,”

Yunjin almost hit the brakes out of shock, the news that came from you felt like it had hit her in the face, but somehow, she managed to keep her cool and not get you both killed. “What?” she shrieked.

“What?” you questioned back, sounding nonchalant as if this was just another normal offer that didn’t seem particularly significant. But it was.

“You have a job offer in London and you’re coming back here,”

“I left the city for a reason, it’d be stupid to go to another one right after,”

Yunjin exhaled, blinking in stupor. “Right,”

“How’s … everyone?”

Yunjin knew you weren’t referring to your family. Of course you’d know how your own family was doing, that’s a no brainer. What you were trying to mean was your old friend group. You couldn’t blame them for being mad at you, after all you were only a part of it because of Sunghoon.

“Heeseung’s graduating soon,” this was the first update you’ve gotten from Yunjin after those years away. It took you every will not to ask her about them, but here you were now, finally giving in. “They’re still the same, nothing’s changed,”

“What about him?”

Yunjin seemed hesitant, obviously holding back something that she didn’t want you to know. “I’m not going to explode upon hearing, you know that, right?” you joked lightheartedly, but secretly dreading hearing about him.

“I think he’s seeing someone,”

“Good for him,” 

Would it be a crime to admit that you still missed your ex? Something in you was wishing you could rekindle a connection again now that you’re back, but all that hope shattered. If he had already moved on, why couldn’t you? Even after knowing how he probably hated and resented you for doing what you did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him back. 

“That’s all?”

“You want me to go full crazy ex mode? You’re insane,” you shook your head, smiling a little, hoping Yunjin didn’t notice the speck of sadness swimming in your irises. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that I would like her … if I were slightly nicer,”

She let out a ‘tch’ in response, though grinning. “What are you going to do with them around? There’s no way you’d be able to fully avoid them,”

“What can I do? I’ll just have to coexist.”

Coexist was a funny word. How were you able to do that when you couldn’t even fully get over Sunghoon in the first place? Thinking about meeting him in flesh already made you feel like doubling over and projectile vomit. That was how pathetic you were, what a shame. 

Settling in was easy. It was natural to be back home, way better than being in the noisy city and constantly surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. The question of why you left in the first place started burning your mind as you tossed around trying to sleep, but it only persisted to bug you. Then came the thoughts of Sunghoon and the friends you left behind, which prompted you to be fully awake, sitting up in bed.

It wasn't the greatest idea to reach for your phone and search for his contact name, just to recall the day you deleted his number. Yet, your memory never failed you, remembering the digits like it was first instinct, fingers already typing his number. Your thumb hovered over the green call button, a haze in your mind.

Inevitably, you shut your phone and dug your head into your pillow. He would've laughed then, if he had seen this happen, the exact moment of you almost caving in and finally saying the sorry you never gave him.

The pictures you saw of him on social media here and there made you wonder how he was and if he had already forgotten about you. There were a few recurring appearances of a girl that seemed to linger by his side in group pictures that caught your eyes. Who took your bed when you left? Who laughed at everything that he said? Was it that girl?

Just like the time you first had a crush on Sunghoon, you stayed awake thinking about him, except this time around, you were filled with regret instead of hope. 

"Heeseung asked me about you,"

Yunjin's random confession in the middle of the day had surprised you. Lee Heeseung, the best friend of your ex who you swore hated your guts, asked about you? Shocker.

"What did you say?"

"I said something along the lines of you figuring out life and just chilling here until the time comes," Yunjin shrugged, and you nodded slowly. "But there's something he said that made me a bit … confused?"

"What?"

"He said they wanted to see you again," 

You raised your eyebrows, a hint of scepticism flashed over your eyes. "They want to see me? Tell me a better joke next time, thanks,"

"I'm not joking! I mean, he did say excluding Sunghoon, but the other guys wanted to know how you were now that you're back," Yunjin winced a little at the mention of your ex, but you waved it off.

"Are they treating me to dinner or something?"

"Well … no. But Heeseung asked me to bring you to their next party, which is in a few days," Yunjin's gaze softened, hand patting your back. "You know you don't have to come if you don't want to. I mean, after all that happened with you and them and Sunghoon,"

You let out a small sigh, absentmindedly fidgeting your fingers. "It's all in the past now. I'm sure Sunghoon has moved on with another girl, and maybe—just maybe—the guys do hate me less."

You never went to that party Yunjin mentioned.

It was hard to admit but you knew, deep inside you, you were afraid, too cowardly to face the people you once knew. Instead, you chose to linger around like a lost soul in a town full of the ghosts of your past. 

It didn't help that the party was also in Sunghoon's house. How did they expect you to go in the first place? You thought you'd never step foot in there after you broke it off with him, and you were adamant on keeping it that way, but your heart got the worst of you.

On the night of the party, you drove around the neighbourhood, eventually stopping across the street of his house. You didn't know what got to you to do so, but you guessed reminiscence and bright lights coming from the house were the reason. The music was loud, people were coming in and out of the house, and the only thing you could think of was him.

That thought alone was enough to have you drive away, leaving the house further and further away into the background just as the memories of him being pushed into the back of your mind.

Rotting in your bed wasn't how your early 20s were meant to be spent, and avoiding almost everyone most definitely wasn't the case either.

Your family and Yunjin were the only people you saw daily, as for the friends you once had, they were long forgotten or didn't even bother to reach out. Except for Heeseung and the others.

That, to you, was a really funny thing to think about. People who stuck by you after the break up and swore to be your closest friends didn't try contacting you once you moved back, knowing damn well word traveled fast in the town; whereas the friends you thought hated you were the first to reach out.

"I'll go to that party," you said to Yunjin on a sunny afternoon tanning session by the pool, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, hiding the apprehension in your eyes.

"Really?" Yunjin almost jumped out of her seat. It was a party she had brought up days ago, still persistent on taking you out. At least this time around, it wasn't in Sunghoon's house, but her friend Chaewon's. "That's great! Chaewon and the girls are super nice, you'll love them. Let's pick a nice outfit for you, okay?"

Yunjin was by far the most enthusiastic one between you and her. She was picking out dresses and tops, literally rummaging through your closet for anything, and you had to remind her it was just a college party. So, you settled for a skirt and a plain top. 

"Will you be okay? I'll stick by you," Yunjin had her arms around you, standing by the front door of Chaewon's house, hearing the music blaring from the inside.

"I'm fine—I think I'll be fine—I just don't want to run away from everyone anymore," it was mostly true, you thought it was inevitable to hide all the time, that wasn't how you're going to spend your life living.

"If there's anything, tell me, okay? We'll leave if you're getting sick," Yunjin gave your arm a final squeeze of assurance before crossing the threshold. 

It was the same as every party you've gone to. Loud music, drunk college kids, liquor and beers strayed around, it reeked of your nightmare in a nutshell there. 

Yunjin's friends were all as lovely as she had promised. The host herself was wobbling on her feet but managed to grace you with her humour. There was Sakura and Kazuha that you learned were foreign students. 

Throughout the night, you were stuck by Yunjin, going from circle to circle and introducing yourself or recognising some of your past school mates. But, almost inevitably so, Heeseung, Jay and Jake had made an appearance too.

"Y/N," Jay was the first to call your name, causing you to turn your head at the familiar voice. 

Your thoughts during then were jumbled into a mess. The people you were fighting to avoid were standing in front of you, all of which were much different than the memories you had of them in mind. 

Three of them had grown taller, gained some muscles and matured in many ways. Jay's hair was dyed pink, Heeseung got new piercings and Jake had a tattoo on his finger. It was strange to admit they're the same people you knew despite feeling the complete opposite of familiarity.

"Hey—" you were cut off by Jay closing in and pulling you into a hug, this for once was something you remembered about him.

"We're so glad you're back," he whispered into your hair, squeezing you tight. It reminded you then that you were friends with him and the guys before you even dated Sunghoon, that connection was deeper than it seemed, and for it to be severed just because of a breakup was gut wrenching to realise. "We're sorry, Y/N, we're so sorry,"

His apology was genuine, that's for sure. Once you pull away, you let both Heeseung and Jake take turns to hug you, whispering apologies into your ear. It was odd, to accept their apologies and having to start afresh. You held onto them, just taking it in. To forgive was a big step, but maybe it was your first step.

You sat there, catching up with them and slowly getting comfortable just like the old days. Heeseung graduated and got a good job offer, Jay and Jake were still studying, both of which were in the same university. You were relieved there was nothing too awkward between you and them, or else you would have regretted your choices.

The night continued on with a few small talks and eventually you had to excuse yourself to the toilet. You wondered how Chaewon's house was so big, with halls that seemed to never end, or it could just be the effects of alcohol.

Stumbling around, you held onto the walls, passing by rooms occupied by people probably doing something unspeakable. You thought your peace of mind would be intact until the end of the night, but you were wrong. Upon turning a corner, you froze.

It was Sunghoon. It was him.

Grief was a funny feeling, especially when it comes to someone you once knew. You stared at him and there he was, like a ghost from your past coming back to haunt you. He was the shell of the person you loved, and you couldn't help but grieve the person he once was. What was he like now? 

Before you could even turn around and make a run for it, his wandering eyes landed on you. He had the same thought process as you. Realisation, panic, sadness, confusion all mixed into a heap of feelings. 

Your feet started moving on its own, as you stepped back, he took a step forward. Your breath became ragged, heart thumping hard and blood pumping in your ears. He was nearing, and you were running away, it was the same as before.

"Y/N!" He called out, and all it took was him to say your name again to have you stop in your tracks. Gosh, you were pathetic.

He was standing before you now, closer than he was a moment ago. It was then you realised how much he had changed too. 

He was taller, smile lines etched much deeper into his face, almost changing along the same wavelengths with the others. There was something different about the way he looked at you, however. From love in his eyes that eventually changed into hatred was now filled with longing and confusion.

"Y/N," he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn't believe you were there. 

"Sunghoon," you blinked, a frown unknowingly making its way to your face. You let a few beats of silence pass, conflicted and nervous. "I—I should leave,"

"No—!" his hand reached out for you, but you didn't feel his touch. He didn't dare to touch you, letting his hand linger before pulling it back to his side. "I mean, you don't have to leave,"

"I thought you hate me,"

Sunghoon's gaze fell to the floor, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He met your eyes once more. "I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't think I do, I never did,"

You blinked, a little surprised, a little hurt. All along he had made you think he hated your guts but he actually didn't? "Oh," you seemed to have lost the ability to talk or to compute a proper sentence.

You thought of the things you wanted to ask him. If he was still angry at you or if things were working for him. But, what came out was the question you've stored in the back of your mind instead.

"Are you with someone new?"

You figured he didn't expect such a question from you, much as you didn't expect yourself saying it. It was an itching thought, one that made you look like a typical ex, but you couldn't help it.

"I'm not," he sounded almost exasperated, as if having to squash down this rumour for the thousandth time.

"Oh … oh," you didn't know what to say, averting your gaze away from him and finding comfort in the wall behind him. 

Sunghoon paused, gaze following yours, looking reluctant whether or not to continue the conversation, but alas, he did. "How have you been?"

"Bad," you laughed a little, and Sunghoon's ears perked at the sound of it that he hasn't heard for ages. "You?"

"I quit skating,"

That was surprising. How could he have? Skating was his dream, his past, present and supposed future, but now, it came crashing down. You didn't know if you should feel sorry for him, as you have been a part of his journey, but one bit of you also seemed to have started mourning the changed Sunghoon that stood before you.

"Why?"

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pocket with a solemn look. "I lost interest. I'm into music now, I'm in a band with the guys,"

You heaved a breath, a deep one. Ironic it was that he was doing music now when he was the one criticising you in the past for wanting to pursue it. Who even was this person? With a new appearance came a new personality, he was much further away than you thought despite the physical distance.

"You've changed," you didn't know what prompted you to say that, maybe it was the disbelief or the denial that he was someone new, but whatever it was, neither of you could deny the fact that he did change. "I'm scared of the person you've become,"

A beat passed, an unreadable expression on Sunghoon's face that you couldn't distinguish even though by now you thought you'd know every one of them. 

"And I'm scared you're still the same."

Seeing Sunghoon that night seemed to have altered something in your life. Somehow, he was everywhere you went. 

Who was working at the register? Sunghoon. Who was at the park? Sunghoon. Who was at the party Yunjin managed to drag you to? Sunghoon.

It was haunting.

All those little encounters didn't mean you talked to him like normal, though. The awkward tension in the air still remained, seeing each other only reminded you and him both of your pasts, and you hated it. That explained why you were having a hard time seeing him at another party you were at.

Yunjin was much more of a party goer than you expected, and she successfully convinced you to go to all of them. It was fun until you got drunk and started being emotional. Your efforts of hiding from Sunghoon that night failed when he barged into the empty room you were sobbing in, whether it was accidental or not, you didn't know, you wished to not know.

"Y/N?"

His voice brought back the times he called your name. Both the good and bad ones. You stared up at him from the ground, tears welling your eyes. The person you were looking at was someone you thought was a soulmate, but now stood as someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

"W–what are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

The alcohol messing with your brain was processing his words, but what came out from your lips was the total opposite of an answer. "I'm sorry, Hoonie," 

Sunghoon's eyes widened at the nickname, the privilege that only you had. He kneeled down, taking a seat on the ground opposite you, a visible distance in between.

"I hate this—us—I feel like if we gave it one night, to talk, to just feel—you'd hate me less and make it alright," you choked back the sobs building up in your throat, the dizziness making you unaware of how Sunghoon reached out only to hesitate and pressed his hand back to his side. "Just wish that we could fight now, I'd hold you on the comedown …" your voice faltered, head leaning onto the wall.

"Y/N, you're drunk, we can talk this out another day," Sunghoon striped off his jacket and covered your exposed thighs with it. "Just … don't avoid me. I–I don't hate you, I just hope we can have a decent conversation without thinking about the past,"

He admitted it, how the two of you had secretly been thinking about the past, letting it be a big wall in between instead of growing from it. Yet, you could tell the unspoken anger and sadness still lingered, choosing to pour out gradually and unknowingly.

"Bet you wish you never even met me," you started slurring, hand gripping onto his jacket tightly. "I can't blame you, I broke your every heartbeat," your eyes were shut, images playing in your mind, not knowing the saddened look dawning on Sunghoon's face.

"Let's get you back."

In your sleep that night, you saw him. He was there, so far yet so close, and just like reality, he was hard to reach, harder to understand compared to before. He was a knife cutting deep, leaving a mark that constantly reminded you of the past. 

How could you even make everything go back to the way it was?

Sunghoon was on your front door step the night everyone was out for dinner except you. 

You hadn't expected him to turn up, thinking it'd be you that stood at his doorstep instead as you still had his jacket from that party (which you do not want to think about again).

"Sunghoon. Hey," the door was opened and you leaned against it, trying your best at hiding the hint of pining in your gaze. 

"Oh, hey," he greeted back rather stiffly, dressed in a simple attire with the classic white Lacoste sneakers that he always wore. "I–I wanted to—"

"Take your … jacket?" You cut him off half way, nerves wrecking your brain.

A beat passed, Sunghoom visibly gulped. "Y–Yeah, my jacket,"

"I'll go grab it for you," you jerked your thumb over your shoulder, awkwardly scurrying back in to retrieve his jacket and coming back to see him chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly nervous. "Here. Thanks for it,"

"No problem," Sunghoon coughed, grabbing the jacket but absolutely paying no mind to it. His stare was straight at you.

"That's all, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," you echoed, hating the sudden rigidness between the two of you. "Bye then, Sunghoon,"

"Bye," Sunghoon said, looking dazed. Weird.

You saw him backing away and decided to close the door, but before you could even do so, a force had stopped you from closing it. Not a force, much rather a hand, his hand. The door was pushed open, and you physically jumped at the suddenness of it. Your eyes met Sunghoon's sorrowful ones.

"Don't push me away, Y/N, not again,"

"Sunghoon," 

He made his way in, closing the door behind him and you let him. Was this seriously happening?

"You said you wanted to give us one night to talk, so I'm here now. I didn't care about the jacket, I cared about you. I hate seeing us like this, it's like we're strangers," Sunghoon let out a frustrated huff, eyebrows furrowed.

"We can't just pretend nothing has happened between us,"

"So you want me to hate you instead? You're saying as if it's easy, Y/N, feelings don't work that way!"

"Then how do we go back to how it was? We can't, that's the truth. You're not the same person I used to know,"

"Cut the bullshit. I'm the same as I was, maybe just a little different than I was years ago, but that doesn't change anything. When does that ever stop you from loving?"

Were you too scared to love?

Sunghoon ran his hand across his face, wetting his lips. "You’re scared of change, and I don’t think that’s something new about you,” 

Ouch.

“But I really wish you could let it all go. I don’t hate you, nor do I harbour any anger regarding the things that happened years ago. It hurts, it did, but seeing you now made me feel the opposite of all those emotions,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, and you were holding yours. “I think about you a lot, actually. I regretted a lot of the things I said and done, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you and giving you the support you needed. I should've fought for us and not leave, I–I—" Sunghoon choked, unable to hold in his overpowering emotions anymore.

You didn’t say anything, instinctively closing in and pulling him into your arms, letting his head lie on your shoulder, ignoring the feeling of his warm tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. "I'm sorry too, for leaving you so easily,"

You stood there with Sunghoon in your arms, inevitably crying along and sobbing out your own apologies, the ones you had owed him and hidden all these years. He held you tight just as you did, and it felt like the nights he had you in his arms whenever you cried. You eventually calmed down whereas Sunghoon was still composing himself, avoiding your gaze.

You took the opportunity to hug him again, tighter and firmer this time, as if trying to stop him from running away. 

"Can we start over? I don't want us to be strangers," 

You heard a sniffle, then a shaky breath of relief. "I'd love to,"

Pulling away, you locked eyes with him. They were twinkling brighter than the stars in the skies outside, filled with a spark of hope. "I'll make us some hot tea. Do you want to … stay over?"

"Can I?"

"I really want you to."

It didn't take more to convince Sunghoon to stay, all you had to do was ask and he'd listen. 

That night, you and him hid in your room, talking for the whole night until the break of dawn. Nothing about the way he talked had changed, nor his laughter or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He told you about the band and some side gigs, offering to bring you to some too. 

You laid there in bed laughing all night, occasionally peeking over the side of your bed to check up on him who slept on the extra mattress, only to meet his eyes and freeze. 

The red string of fate tying you and him together was beginning to reform.

Not feeling dread every time you saw Sunghoon was a new start for you. In fact, you were glad to see him. 

The misunderstandings and complexity built up over the years were finally addressed, leaving you to peace and a small hope of rebuilding what you had with him. But you kept that thought away for now, holding onto the pieces you had at the moment.

"Come to one of my gigs," Sunghoon made a trip to your house on a random afternoon, a box of your favourite chocolate covered strawberries in his hand. He never forgot anything about you, didn't he?

"Are you bribing me or asking me?" You said despite accepting the box, your heart squeezing at the thought of him remembering the littlest details about you.

"I'm asking you but also offering a gift," he let himself in, almost like always, and you didn't even notice, just letting him do so. "I saw it and I thought of you so I got it,"

"Thanks," you waved the box a little, setting it down on the table and leaning slightly against it. "You still remember," 

His gaze softened. "Of course I do," his hand by his side was itching to reach out, but it never did, instead, he played it off by giving you a smile. "So, what do you say? This Saturday, watch our gig at the pub," 

"Are you singing?"

"I wish I did," he laughed, and you momentarily recalled the times you had karaoke sessions with him. Curse reminiscence. "I play the bass, Heeseung's the front man," 

You nodded slowly, picturing them as a band and smiling slowly. You've missed them, and it was then when you realised it. "I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Obviously, do you want me to say no?"

"Well, no," Sunghoon chuckled, quite literally unable to hide his excitement from the way he's grinning widely. "I'm just … glad, and surprised, and happy,"

You bit back a smile, shaking your head at him. "Text me the details, will you? I don't want to miss it."

Saturday rolled around quickly. You and Yunjin were sitting in a corner of the pub, beers on the table and whispering gossip about some of your high school classmates. High school might've ended years ago but gossip never stopped.

"Alright, folks, the next act is someone you already know, they are not strangers," the manager of the pub stepped onto the small stage, announcing Sunghoon and the guy's band. "Please welcome … April Nights!"

April? 

You bit your tongue, an odd feeling boiling in your stomach. April was the month you broke up with Sunghoon and left for university, it was more than just a coincidence for him and his band to have 'April' in their name. All you knew was the sinking feeling never went away.

"You alright?" Yunjin noticed your silence, casting a worried glance at you.

"April …" you mumbled, eyes staring straight ahead at Sunghoon who was setting up his bass on stage. "There must be something behind it,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

You shook away that feeling currently eating up and put your focus on Sunghoon instead. It wasn't your first time watching him perform. It has always been him on ice in a big arena, but now it was him on a small stage at a dingy pub.

Sunghoon's eyes wandered all over the room, finally landing on you, a smile spreading on his pretty face. You managed a small smile, waving a little to let him know you're there, you're actually there and not a figment of his imagination, a dream that he has been wishing on for far too long.

The first song they played was an ABBA song. To be specific, it was your favourite ABBA song that you would listen to with Sunghoon in the past. Was it a coincidence?

You knew Heeseung had a vocal of stars, but to hear it for the first time in years was sending you into heaven. However, you failed to keep your focus on him, redirecting it to the bassist. You couldn't stop looking at Sunghoon, and his gaze wouldn't leave yours either. 

The second song soon came by, and at that point onwards, you knew it wasn't a coincidence. It only took two songs for you to realise that Sunghoon had prepared a set list of your favourite songs. The band was currently playing Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, a song you had loved ever since forever.

You shouldn't be feeling light headed, but you were.

The set ended almost a few hours later. It was filled with your favourite songs, undoubtedly. The whole time, you were truly holding your breath, especially when Sunghoon was holding your gaze.

While people were filing in and out of the pub gradually, you stayed. It was well past midnight and Yunjin's cheeks were pink from the alcohol, wandering off to join Heeseung and the others. You, on the other hand, were sober as hell, waiting for Sunghoon with nerve wrecking anticipation.

"Hey, hey, hey. How did we do?" Sunghoon slid into a seat like an apparition appearing out of thin air. You jumped a little, but melted into a smile at the sight of him.

"You guys were great," it was genuine, because they did do amazing, probably more than just amazing. "'April nights', an interesting name,"

Realisation dawned on Sunghoon's face, he swallowed thickly. "I—yeah. April was an interesting month,"

"The set list …"

"Right, the set list," he chuckled, shifting on his feet a little nervously and stiffly. "I figured since you're here I'll play some of your favourite songs,"

"Oh," you let out softly, not knowing what else to say, this was something you found yourself acting around Sunghoon now. "That's … nice,"

Sunghoon gouged your expressions and the tone of your voice, a slow frown etching onto his tired face. "Did you not … like it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" you paused, thinking of an appropriate word to describe how you felt. Frankly, you didn't know your exact feelings. "—surprised and … confused?"

"Confused?"

"Sunghoon, we're exes, and you pulling this isn't exactly helping—this—" you gestured to the space between you and him. "Us,"

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, occasionally opening his mouth to say something just to close it before he could. "I—maybe I read it all wrong, I thought—you know what, forget it,"

"Don't. Just tell me," you reached over for him, but didn't touch his hand. "What are we? We're not exactly best friends nor are we enemies. I don't want any tension between us and I don't want you to think you have zero chance at all," you breathed, searching for his eyes. "I would want us to work out again, if that's what you want too,"

Sunghoon's eyes glistened with a spark of hope, relief washing over his face. It was an answer to his question. "I want us to work out. I want us to have another chance," his hand reached out for yours the first time since you've seen each other, feeling the warmth of his touch that you were no stranger to. He carefully and gently intertwined his hand with yours.

"We'll always find our way back to each other."

It was odd but comforting to know that nothing has changed when it came to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon brought you to your favourite places, ate your favourite dishes, did your favourite activities as an attempt to rekindle everything back. Safe to say it was working.

Just like the first dates you had together, you felt yourself having the same bubbly feeling internally, the same giggles you caught yourself having after a stupid joke he made. Despite all that, over the course of a few weeks, it had you wondering about your relationship with him.

"Will you date him again?" Yunjin could tell you were struggling, even if you didn't say it, it was still quite evident.

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Well, considering he has taken you out on so many dates and still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend again, I could tell you're troubled,"

"Okay, mind reader," you grumbled and shifted in your seat, hating how right she was. "He said he wanted to give us a chance again, so I was expecting that—you know—we'd get back together soon,"

"Your 'soon' seems a bit urgent, but I don't blame you," Yunjin shrugged, gaze softening at your words. "I can tell how much love there still is between the two of you. It's natural to gravitate towards each other, but time, time is what you need to heal the scars, Y/N. It's been years, give yourself time."

You suppose giving yourself time truly was what you needed. But when you mentally said you needed space, you didn't mean wanting Sunghoon to ignore you. 

That's right. He was ignoring you.

How did you know? Apparently, the hard way.

Calls, messages were all brushed aside. You didn't even see him physically. At one point, you considered him dead, but seeing him at a party proved to you that he wasn't.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Cornering him was a challenge, but being headstrong and slightly buzzed, nothing could possibly stop you.

"Y/N?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name," you seethed, almost stumbling forward and throwing a punch at him. "So, we're playing the game where you get back at me and ghost me after all that we've been through lately? Sweet! Could've given me a head's up though,"

"What? You're the one who's planning to abandon me just like before!"

"What are you even saying?" 

"Your email, Y/N. I saw your email. How you have a big job in London and you just can't wait to join, throwing me away like a summer's fling right before you leave,"

"You're not making any sense, I'm not accepting that role!" You were heaving at anger at this point, matching the fumes emitting from Sunghoon's ears. "You dickhead! I'm literally throwing my dreams away and you're here thinking I'm leaving you again? Is that what you thought of first? Oh, maybe you could've just asked me, but you didn't, just like the past,"

Bringing up the past had triggered something not only in you but him. He blinked, keeping silent but chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek. 

"You never changed, huh?"

You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head a little, not to answer his question, but at him. 

"Well I guess that makes the both of us."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?"

The night after the confrontation, you woke up on Yunjin's couch with a hangover thanks to your habit of drinking your problems away. Remembering Sunghoon's face and the feelings you felt literally had you shrivelling back into the couch, a deep frown etched on your face.

"Partly, yes, but mostly, no," you felt the couch dip beneath Yunjin's weight as she joined your side, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. "He fucked up first, but I think it's all just a big misunderstanding,"

"I don't we've healed from it," you took the cup from her and drank from it. "He's scared of me leaving and I was considering leaving again. Maybe we're just not meant to be,"

Yunjin sighed, moving her body closer to you and placing a comforting hand on yours. "If you're not leaving, that means you're staying, which also means you get to make it right. You get to have time to mend it all unlike the last time,"

"I have to make it right, don't I?"

A nod of confirmation from Yunjin was all you needed to know your next step. So, you decided to show up at his gig in the same exact pub without thinking through it twice.

"He's not here tonight," Heeseung looked thoroughly puzzled by your sudden appearance, and it seemed none of them knew about the small altercation you had with Sunghoon. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been acting a bit … off. We asked him to take a night off, maybe you should give him a call."

If only it was that easy. 

Walking back home with a dejected heart was not the plan you had in mind. A part of you even thought this was truly the end, maybe he reached the conclusion of going no contact and you have no choice but to accept it. Was this karma?

It didn't help that you walked past the park that you and Sunghoon used to run off to back in the past.  The exact bench which you and him sat on still resided there. Your curious mind led your legs towards it, taking a seat and remembering all the memories you shared with him. 

Being alone under the night sky and getting accompanied by the dim light coming from the street lamp had given you a chance to rethink your choices about coming back home, whether it was worth it to see Sunghoon once again and try for the closure you never got. Well, look where it got you now.

The ruffles of the leaves got you snapping your head towards the direction of the noise, but it only landed on a figure.

"Y/N?"

You squinted, waiting until the figure walked under the streetlamp to distinguish that it was … Sunghoon. You should be feeling glad now that he was there in front you, but why were you feeling the exact opposite?

"Sunghoon? W–what are you doing here?" You stood up, watching him getting closer, the anguish in his face was clear.

"I–I … I went to look for you," he started, carefully and slowly inching closer until there's a comfortable distance between you both. "You weren't home and I thought … that was it,"

That was a fatal flaw you and him shared, wasn't it?

"I went to the pub to look for you too," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, breathing becoming ragged. "And you weren't there, so I thought … I thought it was the end too,"

"Fuck's sake, I know I said this many times but I'm sorry, Y/N," he sounded desperate, apologetic and almost exasperated. "I'm sorry for assuming things and ignoring you, I guess I never really got rid of the avoiding thing. I'm just … scared of you leaving me and I can't accept it again,"

"I'm not leaving, Hoonie," you were the first to reach out, to touch him and pull him into your embrace. "I didn't think you'd see that email so I never said anything about it. But I'm not leaving, okay? Not this time, never again. I'm here and I'm staying,"

You heard Sunghoon's quiet breathing next to your ear, his calming heartbeat thrumming against your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I really am, Y/N. I said I wanted to make this right but why does it feel like I'm fucking it all up?"

"You're not, Hoon, trust me. If I have to be honest here, both of us have past scars that aren't healed yet. It takes time, one step at a time, and that was what I learned. I think we're not fully healed from the past," you held onto him tighter, spilling all your hidden truths. "We can make it right, but first, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive each other and move on,"

Sunghoon pulled away a little, but his arms still remained around you. It was the first time you were ever so close to him since the split, wholly vulnerable and showing him your truest emotions. 

"I forgive you," he whispered, pearly tears threatening to spill from the edge of his eyes. "And I'm sorry again,"

"I forgive you too," your grip on his jacket tightened, a small comforting smile appearing on your lips, one that Sunghoon reciprocated. 

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he confessed, a little out of the blue, but it was something he needed to get out of his system before he burst. "Those years when you were away, I see you in everyone else, I don't think anyone could ever compare. I still love you even after this long,"

Your mind was in a haze upon hearing his confession, sincerity and longing hidden in his words but evident in his eyed. For a moment, you thought of what you could say, but nothing came to mind, so you did the first thing your body told you to. You kissed him. Actually, it was more of a peck, a simple quick peck that was enough to shock both him and you.

"I'm sorry!" You saw his wide eyes and wondered if it was a good time to have even done that.

Sunghoon melted into an expression of adoration, a wide smile etched on his lips, as if in both disbelief and relief that you kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he stepped closer, only an inch measured the distance between you and him. The space became smaller when he leaned down, eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can I?"

Was this happening? "Yeah," 

Sunghoon didn't waste any moment in meeting your lips with his. It was natural, easy, for you to kiss him just like first instinct. The amount of desperation, sadness, anger and love were poured into the way he kissed you. There wasn't any urgency, but it spoke louder than intended.

It was short, but it was enough to let the both you know the true feelings you harboured for each other. By the time you pulled away from him, you felt his eyes on you, a giggle erupted from you unexpectedly, and he started joining in.

You really looked like a lovesick fool standing under the streetlamp with your lover. 

"Do you want to stop by that old spot we used to go to?" Sunghoon suggested, a little shyly this time.

"The one nearby?"

"That one,"

"Let's go then." you nodded, casting him a soft smile. 

Sunghoon didn't say much, but his hand did the talking by reaching for yours. He held onto it tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your interlocked hands as you walked. He might've not said much, but you could tell how he felt.

Feelings might be complicated, and  making amends with the history behind a broken relationship was equally challenging, but what mattered most was getting back with the one who you called your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 9

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: We’ve made it, friends. 🥹 But stay tuned, I have a special announcement after the end of this chapter.~

Word Count: 4.1K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 9: A Choice to Make

There was a man in your bed.

You were pleased to discover that, although your kidnapping of two days ago hadn’t been a dream, being held warm and secure in someone’s arms this morning wasn’t either.

After slowly blinking awake, you looked up from a familiar freckled shoulder to find Beau’s peaceful face. His hair was a floppy mess, his mouth parted in sleep. It made you smile.

His arm was heavy around your waist. It was nice, but you contemplated how you were going to get over to the bathroom and freshen up; maybe fix your hair, brush your teeth, put a little makeup on…

You were careful in how you grasped his hand. You were about to try and peel his arm off without waking him.

“If my alarm hasn’t gone off, means it ain’t morning yet,” Beau rumbled with his eyes still closed.

You stifled a laugh, but you tried again to pull his arm away. He held you to him tighter.

“Where you think you’re goin’?” he asked. His southern drawl was thicker when he was sleepy.

You giggled lightly and rested back against his bare chest in defeat.

“Was gonna try and fix myself up a little, before you saw me in the raw light of day,” you confessed.

You’d caught a glimpse of the yellowing bruise on your cheek last night in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. You weren’t really sure how Beau could see past it.

But at your words, Beau finally cracked his eyes open. He made a show of glancing up and down your body, clad in just your black silk camisole. He couldn’t see the rest of you under the blankets, but what he did see, he liked quite a lot—aside from the parts of you that were still healing.  

“You look just right to me,” he remarked, tugging at a strand of your wild, likely knotted hair. “Damn beautiful too.”

Your smile of amusement grew, along with your blush. 

“Flatterer,” you accused. Though you rolled off his arm, fearing you were cutting off his circulation. You moved onto his chest instead, where he held you by your waist and you rested your head over his steady-beating heart.

“Nope. That’s the truth, darlin’,” he said, with a deep sigh. You didn’t see the way his eyes closed in contentment. He knew he’d have to get back into work today, not to mention check on Emily and Carla. For now though, he could focus on this. On you.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked. It was a mere whisper against his skin, but he heard you just fine. It was a good question.

“Eggs or pancakes?” he posed.

You smiled, but you shoved at his shoulder.

“You know what I mean,” you said wryly.

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought. 

Two weeks later, you returned to the precinct with another basket, this one full of snickerdoodle cookies for the whole squad. Poppernak was especially excited when you handed them over to him.

Beau must’ve heard your voice, because he came out of his office to greet you with a broad smile.

“Well, hey there,” he said. You went to him with a smile of your own, but you waited until he’d led you into his office by the small of your back.

Once he shut the door behind him, he pulled you close by the waist and greeted you with a proper kiss. You didn’t even mind the scratch of his beard against your chin. You just caressed his cheek and met him with as much as he gave.

But all too soon, the kiss dimmed to embers, your lips parting softly from his. He thumbed at your cheek.

“To what do I owe this little visit?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you said. He sat on the edge of his desk, and you followed him, standing between his legs. His hand stayed comfortable on your hip. You toyed with the top button near his collar.

“Fall semester is starting up in a couple of weeks. I don’t have too much of the summer left,” you said. “I’m trying to be ready but…I don’t know.”

You were a bit nervous about it. After the ordeal of this past month, you’d started seeing a therapist to work through some of that trauma. Sometimes you had nightmares, found it hard to focus on things during the day. You worried that it would affect your work once your classes started up.

Beau knew what that thinly veiled worry in your eyes meant; you’d confided in him after your first therapy session a few days ago. He had been supportive, and even somewhat open to your suggestion that he see a professional himself, for the things he still held deep inside.

“The rocky summer’s almost over,” he encouraged, squeezing your hip. “You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

You thanked him with a smile, though your fingers became more gripping on his shirt.

“There is something else that’s kinda bothering me,” you said.

Beau grabbed your hand and held it. “What’s that?”

You leveled him with a knowing look.

“I’m just curious on what we’re doing exactly,” you said. “Considering you still haven’t asked me out ‘officially official.’”

Beau’s lips pressed together with a guilty sort of smile.

“Okay, yes, I’ve been working on that,” he said. 

You laughed incredulously. “What’s to work on? It’s a simple question. I promise you, I have a simple answer.”

“But it’s not quite that simple,” he said. That made you pause, along with the sobered look on his face. You slipped your hand out of his and crossed your arms.

“What do you mean, Beau?” you asked.

He grasped your arms gently and let out a deep breath.

“Okay. I just talked with Carla last night,” he said.

It wasn’t a great way to kick things off if he wanted to reassure you. He seemed to know that, and so he spoke quickly.

“After everything that’s happened, she’s thinking of selling the house and taking Emily back to Houston,” he said.

Your face fell with shock. You laid a hand on his chest; to steady him or yourself, you didn’t know which.

“Oh wow,” you uttered.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He dragged a hand over his mouth. You had a feeling this news had been keeping him up at night.

But, you had to voice a thought that began to make your stomach churn with unease.

“Are you…would you move back too?” you asked.

Beau met your gaze with a conflicted one of his own.

“Besides the fact that I got a lot of ghosts in Houston, there are important reasons why I should stay. Why I want to stay,” he said. He picked up your hand again and held it with both of his. “But I also want and need to be there for my daughter.”

You nodded, even as tears burned in your eyes. You knew how hard this time was for Emily right now. What she needed was stability. She needed her father.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Beau admitted.

It was hard, but you breathed through your upset and tried to reign in your tears. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand back.

“You know what I want,” you said, “but you need to do what you think is best. Both for Emily, and for yourself.”

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said.

You shook your head. “It might not be, but that’s where we are.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, until Beau propped a finger under your chin, guiding your face back up to his. He gave you a kiss that was supposed to be sweet, and comforting.

He only succeeded for the moment.

“Oh God, it’s like I don’t even know you!” you exclaimed. Though you were still laughing.

Beau raised a finger in protest. “Hey, I stand by pineapple on pizza—”

“Alone, Dad. You stand alone,” Emily said. She had a recorder app going on her phone, placed between the three of you in your living room. This marked Episode 1 of her podcast, and already it was going off the rails.

“It ain’t that bad. That’s all I’m saying,” he laughed, holding up placating hands. “Pizza is pizza.”

“Said the human garbage disposal,” you smirked. “Where do you put that one, in your second or third stomach?”

“Nah, the fourth one,” he said, patting said stomach. “It’s got the most room. Very handy at a buffet. Or at Donno’s diner when he puts out the weekly specials.”

You laughed. Beau grinned. Emily made a face of disgust.

“Okay, gross,” she said. “Moving on to the next question.”

“How many you got there anyway?” Beau asked, reaching for the piece of paper she’d printed off with all of these “Questions for Couples.” He’d caught sight of a few spicy ones on there that he’d rather not be asked by his daughter, let alone put on record.

Emily snatched the paper away before he could take it from her.

“Okay, next. What’s the first thing you noticed about each other when you met?” she read off.

You and Beau glanced at each other with curious smiles. That was something neither of you had talked about just yet.

“How about for you?” Emily directed her question at you first. You blinked wider eyes.

“Oh! Um…” you trailed. Beau crossed his arms, adopting a sly, expectant smile. You bit your lip to avoid laughing in embarrassment.

“Okay, well, as you know, we met on that camping trip. If I remember right, I saw him from behind first,” you recalled.

“Liked what you saw, huh?” he teased. You laughed and tried not to blush in embarrassment.

“I noticed how tall he was. I wondered if a mountain man was coming to join us,” you quipped. Beau’s smile kicked up a notch. “But it wasn’t until he turned around, and I saw his handsome face…for me, it was his eyes.”

You were a bit bashful to admit that, but when you looked over at Beau, said handsome face had softened a touch. His hand snuck behind you to settle at the curve of your waist, stroking a thumb along your back.

“And for you, Dad?” Emily asked.

You shot him an expectant look. Beau cleared his throat, looking between his daughter and back to you. Then his smile returned.

“Well, I noticed right off the bat that she was beautiful, of course.”

“Good answer,” Emily nodded, laughing a little. You couldn’t help blushing.

Beau slipped his hand off your waist to come up and brush your cheek instead.

“For me though, it was her smile that did me in,” he said. “She looked up at me, and I uh…yeah. That got me. Was thinking about her for a while after Cassie and I left the camp.”

With that admission, you found yourself melting further. You looked down at your folded hands in your lap, trying to save face, but Beau wouldn’t have it. He took one of your hands in his, brought it up to his lips, and pressed a kiss over your knuckles, making your face warm up further.

Emily watched you both in amusement. She smirked at the next question listed on the page.

“Okay, who pays on dates? Is it Dad every time?” she asked.

Your expression turned dry as you glanced at Beau.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, considering we haven’t been on a real date yet,” you remarked. 

Beau gave a tight smile.

“All right,” he said. “Next question, please.”

A couple of days later, you crossed paths with Carla by chance while you were getting office supplies. She was getting moving boxes. There was a stack of them in her cart.

After exchanging some painful small talk, you heeded a gut instinct that had you offering to buy her lunch. So the two of you went to a café in the same plaza, where you each had a sandwich and fries.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Carla smiled, taking another fry. “You mean can you ask me something uncomfortable?”

You stifled an awkward laugh. She really was a good lawyer.

“Yeah, that,” you said.

“Sure,” she replied.

You stared back at her for a moment, steeling yourself. You both knew what this was about to be. It was a conversation weeks in the making, but it didn’t make it any easier to begin.

You decided to peel off the Band-Aid.

“Do you still love him?” you asked. You knew you didn’t have to specify whom. Carla sighed and set down her iced tea.

“In a way,” she replied. “I’ll always care about Beau, and I want him to be happy, I do. This has all just been…too much.”

“I understand that,” you said.  

Carla hid it well, but there was pain behind her eyes as she looked away. Your heart broke for her a bit. She’d barely been remarried a year before this hellish summer uprooted her entire life.

Now she and her daughter were living in a big empty house that was meant to be for three. Carla had just finished telling you about her plans to sell it, but that also implied that she and Emily were moving.

“Part of this is my fault, I know,” said Carla. “I’m the one who married a man like Avery—”

You gently stopped her with a hand on her wrist. You met her gaze with empathy.

“What he did, and what happened after, that wasn’t your fault,” you said. “I know what it’s like to be with a man who lies.”

It took her a moment, but Carla accepted that with a slow nod. You took your hand back, and once again, you tried to gain your courage to dive into deeper waters.

“I also understand that you have to do what you feel is right for Emily, but…”

Carla met you with a more wry tilt of her head. “Let me guess. You don’t think we should leave Montana?”

Your gaze fell. “I know it’s not really my place to say—”

“And if it was?” she countered.

Your lips pressed together. Well, if she wanted to hear your opinion, then she would have it.

“Look, Carla, I was with Emily through the worst of it,” you said. “I know very well what she’s been through. But another out-of-state move when she’d just started getting acclimated, possibly separating her from her father, is that the right call?”

“You’re assuming Beau would stay. For you?” Carla asked. Her words were pointed. Sharp enough to cut you.

“I won’t lie. I don’t want to lose him…but despite his responsibilities here as Sheriff, I suspect he might leave if you asked him to. If it was for his daughter,” you said. Letting out a breath, you looked down at your folded hands on the table. “I love Emily. I want him to do what’s right for her. But selfishly, I want him to take care of himself too.”

Carla considered that, and you, with a nod.

The two of you continued sipping your iced teas for a while in silence.

When you asked for the check, the server informed you that Carla had already paid for it.

The woman gave you a parting smile before she left. You weren’t sure if she’d done it to treat you, or just to win.

That same night, Carla invited Beau over for dinner with her and Emily. It was pizza Friday, like they used to do as a family.

It was familiar, but different now.

They all were different.

Carla asked them to join her in the living room afterwards, with Emily sitting in a lounge chair while her parents sat on the couch. Beau wasn’t sure what Carla was up to, but he was going along with it.

She took in a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap, and focused on her daughter.

“Em, I need to ask you something.”

The girl looked confused, and a little apprehensive at this point.

“O-kay…”

“I know this past month has been…hard for all of us,” said Carla. “Especially for you, sweetheart.”

She took Emily’s hand.

“You know I think it’s best that we go back to Houston,” said Carla. Emily dimmed at that, and her mother could see it. It pained Carla inside to come to a realization…

“But, I think maybe I made that decision for me, not for you,” she said. She had to blink back the sting of tears. “So, what I’m asking is, do you want to go…or do you want to stay here in Montana?”

Beau glanced over at his ex-wife in surprise. He’d never known Carla to change her mind on anything. But now, now he had hope.

He tried not to show any of that to his daughter though. This was up to her now, and he would support whatever she said next.

“R-Really? I get to choose?” Emily asked. She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she looked between her parents. 

Carla nodded, attempting a smile through her own tears. “Yes. I, and I’m sure your father, want to do what’s best for you here. What do you want to do?”

Emily considered the question. Yeah, she missed her friends back at school in Houston. They still texted and kept in touch through social media all the time, but she knew it wasn’t the same.

She hadn’t been happy about moving to Montana at first…but after meeting Cassie and Denise, helping them with their cases—it made Emily feel like she was doing work that mattered. That something she did really, truly mattered, and would help people. That was a cool feeling.

Also, she’d met you. She’d begun to find a kind of older sister in you. Someone who encouraged her projects and her creative side without thinking it was too weird, or too annoying. And of course, she could see what you meant to her dad now.

Besides all that though, she just had this gut feeling. Like going back to Houston would be like going backwards.

Emily’s lower lip wobbled. She tried to stop it, but her emotions bubbled over.

“I like it here,” she admitted. “I…I want to stay.”

Beau welcomed his daughter over into a warm hug between them on the couch. Carla rubbed her back and nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Until eventually, the teen wanted to go back to editing her podcast. She was getting a hang of the editing software, and she wanted to post it online by the end of the week.

“Okay, but I want to hear the final cut before that gets released into cyberspace,” Beau called after her when she ran off into her room.

Carla shook her head and wiped her face dry.

“I still can’t believe you let her record you,” she said with a laugh.

“You and me both,” Beau admitted. If you hadn’t cajoled him into it, he probably wouldn’t have.

And the thought of you had him smiling to himself, more warmly. He’d couldn’t wait to call you…but no, this was something he should tell you in person. He turned to Carla.

“You’re sure about this? About staying?” he asked.

She nodded with a sigh. “We’ll just downsize to a smaller house. Though I will need you to keep sharing more of the custody responsibilities with Emily, presuming you’re able to get out of that trailer of yours.”

Beau wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with his trailer (sure, it was a bit small. They’d been managing just fine). But as to not look a gift horse-in-the-mouth, all he did was nod in agreement.

“I’ll work on that,” he said.

“Thank you. Beau, I’m grateful for you,” Carla said. Her eyes were honest. “You gave me our daughter. And I’m glad you’ve gotten better, that you’ve been able to work through some of your issues. I think your girlfriend has had something to do with that.”

A smile quirked at Beau’s lips, and he nodded.

“That she has,” he said.

After his shift the following day, Beau met you at the end of your painting lesson at the local art studio. Everyone was starting to pack up their painting supplies. He managed to come up from behind and surprise you.

He tapped you on one shoulder, but appeared on your other side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He laughed in light of your gasp.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted.

You narrowed your eyes at him in amusement.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied. “Good timing! I just finished.”

While you gathered up your supplies, Beau admired your latest painting that was still drying on the canvas. He whistled lowly.

It was a landscape of Mount Helena. There was mist near its mountain peaks, and dense trees at its base, and wide plains of green, dotted by a couple of horses ranging free.

You swiveled toward him in your chair and looked up at him with a smile. The same one that caught his eye when he met you.

“After everything, everything, I don’t regret coming here,” you said. Your voice shook a little, and your eyes shone with emotion. You stood from your seat and slipped your hand into his. “This is still the place where I got the courage to start over. And it’s where I met you.”

Beau’s face softened.

“So no matter what you decide to do,” you said, “I won’t ever regret knowing you, Beau Arlen.”

His own smile crinkled the corners of his eyes then. He swept a gentle thumb across your cheek.

“I came to tell you that Carla and Emily are staying in Montana,” he said. “So am I.”

You sucked in a trembling breath. Your tears bubbled over and fell, but his hands were there to catch them, framing your face.

“But aside from all that,” he said, with a note of humor gleaming in his eyes. “I’d really, really, like to ask you out to dinner tonight. Call it ‘officially official.’”

You laughed and smiled so bright. You nodded and let him pull you into a warm embrace. He just surprised you by hefting you into his arms next. You yelped and clung to his shoulders.

Your art instructor, as well as a couple of lesson goers remaining in the studio, clapped and whooped and laughed at the way he started carrying you towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, go back! My stuff!” you said, gesturing at your workstation.

Beau graciously backed up so you could grab your bag of paint supplies and your canvas from the easel. It was a little awkward, but you both laughed as he tried to angle you out the door of the studio. He started walking you down the sidewalk.

“Where’re you taking me? My car’s that way,” you pointed in the opposite direction.

“I believe I asked you to dinner,” said Beau, with a teasing grin. “I don’t wanna waste no time.”

You wanted to point out that your hands were stained with paint, and you weren’t dressed for a date in your jeans and plain sweater, and this wasn’t exactly what you meant by asking you out…but maybe you didn’t need a “color-coded list” for everything.

Maybe you could let yourself be a little spontaneous for once.

“Okay, Beau,” you breathed a laugh, and rested your head on his shoulder. “Take me wherever you want.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he said slyly. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got plans for you.”

When he reached the passenger side of his truck, he set you down on your feet. He unlocked it and held the door open while you set down your things. You pivoted on your heel and grabbed the front of his shirt, so you could pull him down to you for a kiss.

He tasted like the promise of good days to come.

AN: And there we have it, friends. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed the ride on this series. I've had so much fun exploring Beau and this version of him and the reader. I hope you'll let me know what you think of the finale here. 💓

But, their story's not quite over yet.

Read the Sequel: A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

▶️ Keep Reading: A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[lovelyiida]

THE RACE TO WEDDIBG BELLS

CHAPTER 4: LOVE LANGUAGE ; AWKWARD…

“get to know the damn girl.”

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

❥: CHAPTERS

implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, sexual themes, suggestive wording, and content

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 3.2K

You couldn't move; you couldn't speak; you couldn't think.

Your mouth was agape, trying hard to wrap your mind around the words your boss had spoken to you. Your hands frozen to your sides as you stared into his amber eyes.

Blinking, you began to register the words you just heard, "Did you just say... marry me?" Your eyes squinted in disbelief as you looked at the man ahead of you, rolling his eyes. He raised his arms in the air and patted them back down with force, giving you a deadpan look.

"Oh my god, you're serious," you let out a breath, frantically beginning to pack your things away. Your breath was shaky as you kept tripping over your own feet.

"Damn it," the hero groaned.

Placing his hand over his face, he let out a sigh. "You can just say no," he said dryly, a wave of embarrassment washes over his as he notices your fearful expression as you shot up to look at him. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and confusion.

"Listen, I just need some time to think about this... t-this is a lot," you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts.

He nodded understandingly, "S'fine, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," he replied, his voice softer now.

As you continued to gather your things and hurriedly left the room, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The offer to marry your boss, a pro-hero you admired and respected, was unexpected and overwhelming.

Over the next few days, you struggled to make sense of your feelings. On one hand, you were flattered and amazed that he would even consider you for such a significant decision. On the other hand, the thought of marrying someone you worked for and admired professionally was daunting.

You found yourself questioning your own feelings, wondering if you were just caught up in the moment or if there was something deeper. As you weighed the pros and cons, you couldn't help but analyze your interactions with him, trying to decipher any hidden meaning or intentions.

Sitting alone in your dining room, you couldn't help but think things over. Aimlessly watching the news, mind blank watching headline after headline, bottom lip poking out ever so subtlety. Knees buried to your chest as you hug your legs, you slowly look over at the empty wine glass. With a sigh you grab the bottle and pour yourself another glass.

You were a small-town girl who had come to the big city to chase her dreams. On the other hand, there was a highly trained pro-hero, cold and strong yet hardworking and reasonable. It felt surreal that he had proposed to you, considering how different your worlds seemed to be.

You had no ties to villains, at least not that you were aware of, and you certainly had no ulterior motives to harm or destroy him. You were as regular and ordinary as they come. So, the question lingered in your mind:

Why you?

"Breaking news on our daily superstar segment! Pro-hero Dynamight seen a countless of times with multiple women. Appearing to being on a date..."

Eyes widening you slowly place your glass down on the table and listen intensely to anchorwoman on the screen. "seems like the hero is on a loving spree! Now tell me ladies, do you think you have a shot?-"

With a press of a button, the screen goes black. Slamming the remote back on the table, you grab your wine bottle and glass and stomp towards your room.

"Going out with other women, and you just proposed to me? Yeah, what a fuckin' bachelor you are," you muttered, each word laced with a dose of venom as frustration welled up within you. You slammed the remote back onto the table, trying to block out the images on the screen.

Walking towards your room, clutching the wine bottle and glass, you felt a mix of anger, confusion, and hurt. The proposal had blindsided you, and now you were faced with this news about him dating other women.

Crashing onto your bed, you took another swig from the glass, trying to drown out the conflicting thoughts in your head. But as you swallowed down the whole glass, a moment of clarity hit you.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" you mumbled to yourself. Seriously, what was wrong with you? You didn't understand why you had made such an outburst. After all, you barely knew the guy, let alone had any deep feelings for him.

Feeling overwhelmed, you put the empty glass down and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe it was the shock of the proposal, or perhaps the clash of two very different worlds colliding. Regardless, you realized that you needed some time to sort out your emotions and thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that you would approach the situation with a clear mind. You would have an honest conversation with him, and perhaps, in doing so, you would better understand your own feelings and motivations.

Continuing to pour another glass, you place the bottle on the floor and swirl the red liquid around. Eyelids heavy as you roll your eyes, "whatever" you slur out. Before your lips could touch the glass, your phone lights up with a buzz.

Looking over, you crawl over to your nightstand and grab your phone. Looking at the screen your heart begins to beat fast, it's your boss.

Mr. Dynamight:

Be ready by 6

Eyes widening, you turn your phone off and place it screen-down, not even bothering to respond to any messages. Placing your glass on the floor, you bury yourself under the covers, hoping to sleep away your problems.

As morning arrives and the sun begins to rise, your alarm breaks through the peace of your one-bedroom apartment. Turning under the covers, you let out a groan and shuffle out of your bed.

As you get ready for your day, you can't stop thinking about the situation at hand. Why ddi he exactly choose you out of all the other girls dying to even get a simple look in the eye?

You consider yourself pretty attractive from your own standpoint, having had multiple relationships and even experiencing the occasional catcall. But none of that seemed relevant in this complex situation.

Maybe you should get in touch with one of his emergency contacts or call his doctor. Dynamight obviously isn't in his right mind, usually after a certain amount time for the average pro-hero they start to show signs pf mental instability...maybe he's an early bloomer?

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you pause for a moment. Your briefcase in hand, and your clothes neatly pressed, you frown and head out the door.

As you walk to the nearest bus stop, you glance at your phone with a frown. "Too early in the morning," you complain as the clock reads 5:45 AM. You had no idea why you had to be at work so early, and you're still fighting a minor hangover.

BEEP BEEP

Suddenly, the blaring sound of a car horn rings through your ears, startling you. Frantically looking around, you try to locate the source of the sound. Clutching your briefcase and bags tightly for a sense of protection, you see an unexpected face.

"Morning, L/n!" a voice yells out.

Startled, you look ahead and see your co-boss, Mr. Riot. "What the hell are you doing at the bus stop? Didn't you get the text?" he says with a hint of humor.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly walk up towards the passenger side of the car. "Morning to you too, Mr. Riot," you say softly. Pausing for a moment, you crouch down to look deeper into the car to find its driver.

Your heart skips a beat as you look into a set of amber eyes. "Morning, Dynamight," you say, quickly rising back up without waiting for a response.

"I saw the text, be ready at the office by 6, correct? Did you need me there earlier or--"

"Get in the car," Dynamight's voice cuts through the air, his deep rasp still evident from his morning voice. Without any questions asked, you grab the door and enter the car.

As you rode into the city, the atmosphere in the car is tense, and you're not sure what to expect from this impromptu ride with your boss and co-boss.

"How'd you sleep?" Red Riot breaks through the tension effortlessly, his eyes looking over you as you give him a warm smile. "Um, pretty okay, I guess… hangover," you say with an awkward chuckle. This earns a laugh out of the high-spirited hero.

"You? Hungover? That's new! What the hell happened to you--"

"Well, don't do it again, because from now on you'll be getting these rides often," Dynamight cuts through the air once more. "Oh no, trust me, I'll be fine. I don't need a ride!" You respond. "If I come back tomorrow and see you at that bus stop, I'm firing you," Dynamight threatens with ease.

Before you can even try to protest, the car comes to a sudden halt. Grabbing onto the back of the passenger-side seat, you gasp. Blinking your eyes, you look around and see that you're at the back of the private parking structure.

Without another word, Dynamight rolls down his window and hands his keys over to an assistant. Stepping out of the car, he looks down at the female worker, "Are you new?" he asks. The woman nods, and Dynamight nods back, "If I catch you taking anything, or if I see a small dent or scratch, you're fired."

Walking away, you look over at the assistant as you step out of the car. Apologizing with a bow, you quickly walk behind your boss. Arriving at the elevator, another assistant is there, looking at you expectantly.

"Give them your stuff," Dynamight says, looking at you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words. "I'm fine. I can carry these on my own," you say. Looking at your boss, you notice his signature "pissed off" frown. Before he can open his mouth, his trusted colleague lets out a loud sigh.

"Just give him your damn bags," Red Riot says defeatedly. Before you can hand them over, the assistant snatched them from your hands. With a gasp, you're then pushed into the elevator.

Day in, day out, the same thing, over and over again.

You were picked up by your boss, dropped off by your boss, your every move monitored through his own lens. And you grew sick and tired of it.

Today, the two of you walk into his office. In the corner of your eye, you see the same assistant place your things down on the small coffee table. Giving the assistant a bow, you begin to take your belongings out and organize them as planned.

As time goes by, the sound of you typing on your keyboard fills the room and adds to the white noise. Occasionally, you share a glance with the pro-hero. Typing out a few more important documents, you place your laptop on the table and head for the printing room.

As you walk to the printer, you notice a lot of looks from the staff around you. The sea of eyes pierces from your back and straight into your heart. You were used to a couple of stares here and there, after all, you had one of the more confidential roles in the office.

As you turn into the printing room, you find a line of workers at the printer; it must be backed up today.

"Have you seen the secretary?" a female worker says, and your eyes perk up at the mention of you. "No… why?" another female worker responds.

"I took the bus today, and I saw her riding with Dynamight and Red Riot. How do you think that happened, hm?" she says. "And you wonder why she's been here for this long," the other woman laughs.

"I mean, I thought I was the only one who noticed. How can you walk around in heels and a shorter skirt than the rest of us without breaking dress code? She's obviously sleeping with them."

As the women kept on talking, a pit of anger grows deep within your chest. Fist growing tight into a ball, you open your mouth to speak, but a loud clearing of the throat is heard.

As all three of you turn around, your eyes widen to see your boss.

"Dynamight!" the two women say, their voices ringing out through the room, causing everyone's head to turn. All slouched backs and crouched arms snap back into place.

"So this is how you talk about my secretary behind my back?" he says, his voice scarily calm. "W-we didn't mean to talk about her like that, we were just assuming--"

"Assuming what?" His voice raises, causing the whole room to shake. The other woman blinks and raises her finger, pointing at you. "That you two were…"

"We're what? Fuckin'?" The vulgarity of his words cuts through the air like a knife. The woman nods, and Dynamight rolls his eyes before walking ahead of you, shielding you from their bodies.

"Sure, we are, and if you want to know so god damn badly, I'm making her scream my name every single night so she can come to this office all pretty and rested!" he raises his voice even higher than before.

Oh my god.

People are gonna think you're sleeping with him!

"Turn in your badges and get the hell out of my office!" He screams, his hands popping off loud bangs. You flinch at the loud bangs, never witnessing his quirk before, you yell from shock.

The two women scurry out of the room, their eyes filled with tears as they realize they just lost their job due to petty office gossip. "And if I catch any of you in the press, consider yourself homeless!" Dynamight turns back and yells.

Facing you, he gives you a look. It's unreadable.

"Needed you," he says softly, and you nod understandingly, trying your hardest to blink away tears. "What for?" you ask, trying to keep your tone as professional as possible.

"Wanted some coffee… not anymore, though," he says, grabbing your arm. He looks back at his workers with a frown. "And if I catch any of you fuckin' extras talking about her behind our backs, consider yourself jobless as well!" Walking away, he drags you along with him.

As you walk in the hallway, you shield your face from everyone around you. "Dynamight, I need to get those papers and your coffee--"

"Fuck the papers, fuck the coffee."

Walking into the office, he closes the door with a slam. Letting go of your arms, you stand in the middle of the room, head hanging low and face out of sight.

A long wave of silence overcomes the both of you, a rare frown of sympathy shown on Dynamight's face. Letting out a sigh, he steps closer to you.

"Listen… I'm sorry for all that back there, I just couldn't take them talking to you like that--"

"Can I leave early… please?" your voice trembles as tears fall from your face and stain the ground. The hero draws his lips into a line, "Yeah… I can take you. Just give me a minute--"

"Alone," you cut him off.

Another long moment of silence echoes through the room once more. "Y-yeah, go ahead," he stutters. Quickly going over to grab your things you dash out of his office and towards the elevator.

You were embarrassed and was absolutely humiliated, you were taken for something that you weren't. And now everyone thinks you're just some toy the two hero's like to play around with.

This day couldn't get any worse...

"Dude, what the hell just happened?" The muscular redhead dashes into the pro-hero's office, looking at his friend and lifetime partner, absolutely disheveled. "A lot of shit just happened, alright?" the blonde says, defeated.

"Well yeah, I could hear it all the way from the other side of the building to my office, man... you said the 'e' word," he says, his voice tinged with fear.

"E, as in 'EXTRA.'"

"I know!" he yells, frustrated at his actions. "You haven't said that since high school, the UA days! I thought you said you were working on that through therapy?" The redhead says, unable to read the room.

"Listen, if you could shut the hell up and sit down, we need to talk," the blonde says. Kirishima's eyes furrow, a little wave of anxiety flowing over him. Taking a seat on his desk, he looks into his friend's eyes.

Bakugo scoffs, "I... I messed up with L/n," he says.

"Well yeah, kinda. I would run out of the office crying too if my affair went public—"

"We're. Not. Fucking," Bakugo says, fist tapping on the table with every word spoken. "When I said those things, I was just trying to take up for her, and it backfired, and now I feel like shit." Bakugo says, placing his hands into his face.

"Well, I think you did all that you could have done... I mean, it can't get any worse than that," Kirishima begins to pat his friend's head, trying his hardest to offer support.

"I asked her to marry me," Bakugo mumbles in his palms, Kirishima's eyes widen, and he jumps off the desk. "You what?" he says.

"I'm not gonna repeat it."

"Why the hell would you do that? You've only known her for like 2 months!" Kirishima complains. "I'm aware!" Bakugo argues back. Kirishima looks dumbfounded, hands on his hips, doing his signature dad pose.

"At least get to know the damn girl first."

"I know!" Bakugo screams, exploding in anger, causing the redhead to flinch. Bakugo sighs and places his head down on the table. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me... I just don't have the time to do all of those things you did."

"You mean building a bond and getting to know the person?" Kirishima adds. "Yes, exactly," he says back, a long awkward pause entering the room once more.

"Did she say yes?" Kirishima asks. Bakugo sits back up and lets out a sigh. "Well, she didn't say no," he says with a tinge full of hope. Kirishima nods, pacing around the room, thinking.

Soon, Kirishima comes to a halt. "How about you just take the girl out on a few dates? Then get her final response by popping the big question again?" Kirishima says.

"Even though it's not the conventional way of dating, it could help. You need to build a genuine connection, not rush into something like marriage without knowing each other well," Kirishima advises.

Bakugo looks up, a mix of frustration and gratitude in his eyes. "You're right. I should take her out and get to know her first," Bakugo says with determination.

His friend smiles and pats him on the back. "That's the spirit! Just take it one step at a time and see where it leads you. And remember, I'm here to support you no matter what," Kirishima says, giving Bakugo a reassuring smile.

"I'm the number one person to come to if you need help with the ladies~" Kirishima says flirtatiously, Bakugo rolls his eyes. "Yeah I bet you also the number one person to come to at planned parenthood as well" Bakugo snorts.

"That wasn't funny" Kirishima quips.

"To you."

well, shit...

how do I apologize for not keeping my promise guys? comment down below 😍

P.S. almost at 1K AHKSJNCALJFBNAIUIUWALANJCS

EDIT: please I just fixed the repeated glitch, this was very embarrassing…

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥: @r-ans, @xo-evangeline, @superkittywonderland, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @bollzinurmouth, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows, @itgetzweird08, @yoyosocks165, @zyxys1, @pebblepoop, @lovra974, @suchagoodgirixoxo, @bakugospartner, @gaby-11, @smokers-sweetheart, @akqsa-xxi, @jolynegf, @goldenglow149, @aliruuiz, @zukowantshishonourback, @ilovedenk-i, @echosfadve, @atsushiki, @smolbeanzzz, @urdecentartist09, @lem-hhn, @stevenknightmarc, @katsu-shi @ryumiii, @idontevenknowlolls, @lyn07, @kennshifts @ackerman-suck-3-r @alicen23 @xasilex @elegantvoids, @lowkeyremi, @plutounderbridges, @k0z3me, @thecurlyhairedgoddess, @sunyrose, @winterv-black, @chuugarettes, @kiarathace, @thisbicc, @thekookiecorner, @hyu-hl, @rubymha, @katsukisxslut

[grapejuicestyless]

You’re The Winner

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and you were once inseparable. Both reaching to achieve big dreams. You always dreamed of being a writer and director. You were no where near Harry’s fame, and he knows it. He’s not afraid to let you know it either. Based off the new Conan song, “Winner.”

I didn’t notice it at first, as it came in waves. Tiny jokes pointed at my deepest hurts. Insults baked in sugary dough to hide the sourness beneath. Small snickers traveling around the rooms we were in. Laughter growing when I turned my back.

Soon, his comments became more aimed. Less broad, more explicit. He was blunt in his insults. Snide remarks turning into insults meant only to tear me down.

It shouldn’t have hurt me this much, all these stupid comments. If it were anyone else, I would’ve brushed them off as pure jealousy. But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Harry. A man who had everything. Money, fame, friends, party invitations piling at his door. But more than that, he was my best friend. My guide through Hollywood. The kindest soul that I had ever crossed paths with one fateful night in late 2013.

Back then he was so shy, despite his huge successes. Despite all the gains he was making, all the achievements, all the accomplishments, he was just as humble and down to earth. Never once caring about anyone’s status. He couldn’t care less what projects I was pursuing. Who I was working with, how much money I was making. When I was with him, I was just me. Not some new rising director, some writer chick that was starting to make headlines. I was simply, me.

I don’t know where that Harry went, but this wasn’t him. I considered the idea that maybe a stunt double had stepped in to take the old Harry’s place. All while the old Harry was away at some lavish beach resort in some expensive town off the coast of Italy I’d never heard of. That would’ve made so much more sense, but impossible. This one had the same green eyes and devilishly charming smile. His hair was just as shiny and curly. Physically, he was the same.

To put a date to it, I could say it started around the middle of 2020. He was by himself now, no longer supported by four other counterparts. Finally the center of attention. He’d done relatively well with the release of his first project, but it was his second album that had launched him into a similar success that he had in the band. Magazines swarming him with covers to be plastered on, late night tv talk show hosts all but begging him to sit down on their overly bouncy couches to talk about his love life and music inspiration.

With this new found admiration from the public, the changes were starting to be made. He no longer reached out first, and when he did, it was forcefully. He always made sure to be the one to never text last. Feeling satisfied in leaving another on read. Old Harry could carry conversations into the next day. Texts flooded with his odd facts and silly jokes. Now it was purely business. Maybe some meet ups from time to time. But usually it was me planning to meet up with him. His simple response was a thumbs up, not really caring if I showed or not.

He grew more and more insufferable the longer his fame lasted. Making friends with the best of the best and not even giving a second look to anyone else. So quick to discard those who were once always there for him. He was superficial. Fake. I knew this, but my heart still beat for the sweet boy I met all those years ago. Cherishing the fact he still considered me his best friend, even after all this time. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I did because even with this new asshole persona, I believed that underneath it, the young boy was still there. He just needed to be revealed somehow.

Now I can see how stupid I was. As I sit here, in the darkness of his living room watching some old movie he claims is, “vintage.” Not enjoying myself as I thought I would, but shrinking into the couch cushions, eyes welling up with each new dig he was making at me and my career. Always so quick to point out the clear gaps in our success. Me, having only a few movies and awards to my name, Harry having a room dedicated solely to them. His wins for only his newest album towering over all the ones I’d won in my whole career. I wished I could’ve tuned him out. Ignored how he belittled me, treated me like gum on his shoe. I wish his words meant nothing but that. Just words. I wished and wished.

“You know, if you made movies like this, you’d probably be so much more successful.” He gently smacked the side of my arm, eyes glued to the screen. Not even looking to see my expression.

Maybe it would’ve felt better if he had. Then I would know he only did it to get a rise out of me. Now I could see he was only doing it because that’s how he was. This is who he’s become. That hit so much deeper. I couldn’t blame it on him trying to tease me, or being playful and it coming off too strong. He was just, something almost unexplainable.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” The words were bitter as they rolled off my tongue. The couch I was once sinking into so feebly losing connection with my skin as I shot up to stand over him.

“What?” He looked confused, eyebrow cocked and a playful smirk on his face. He knew, how could he not. He saw how I cowered away, slinking into another room where the quiet was more evident that the soft chatter and quick glances in my direction. Both of pity and interest.

“Do you feel good about yourself? Bringing me down like that? Honestly, Harry tell me, I’m really interested.” His eyes seemed to dull, the movie no longer of interest to him. He stood to match my stance.

“I was just joking.” His arms raised in a fake defensive stance. Smirk still evident on his face.

“You should be proud of yourself, are you? Take a bow! Are you proud because I’m not. I’m not proud to say that there’s honestly nobody who’s ever done better at making me feel worse. So congratulations, Harry.” I clapped slowly, feeling heat rising to my cheeks, tears brimming my waterline. Harry stood there the entire time, mouth parted open and eyes searching my face desperately.

“I don’t see what I’ve done wrong? I was just giving you some tips.” He could’ve fooled me with that statement. His face contorted into one of pure regret and pain, almost like it hurt to deny what he had been doing. Like he didn’t want to be a jerk anymore. Somehow, it almost made me feel guilty.

“I don’t need your tips Harry! I don’t need anything from you. I am perfectly happy with what I’m doing, I don’t need a boat load of awards to show for that. You said it yourself, right? I’m happy doing what I’m doing, so don’t you dare insinuate that I am not successful. Don’t you dare.” My finger found the center of his chest, pushing back on his muscular frame, eyes blinking rapidly to dissolve any tears collecting, threatening to roll down my cheeks. To embarrass me.

My honesty was met with silence, his mouth closing into a firm line, eyes cold and lifeless looking into mine. He seemed totally calm, the complete opposite of my rapid breathing and heaving chest. It made me angry. How could he stand there, chest to chest with his “best friend” and not care about what he was doing to me?

“Fine, okay. Fine.” I backed away slowly, nodding in his direction. My footsteps picked up, hand searching quickly for my coat that was slung over the arm of his million dollar couch.

I never planned on leaving, but if this was what he wanted, to be a jerk and expect everyone to fall at his feet still, then I would not be part of it anymore. I would not cave to his sick and twisted mind games. I would leave, and maybe, just maybe, if he ever came to his senses. If he could ever see just how awful he was to me and could find it in his now frozen over heart to apologize, I would come back to stand beside him happily. But I would not be the woman who stood behind him, a bystander in the future movie of his life.

Slipping on my shoes and reaching for the door handle I paused. Looking around one last time, taking in Harry, who looked just as defeated as I felt, I saw it. He was crying. He was crying, actually crying. Hand gripped over his chest and clawing at where his heart reside. Body shaking silently. Praying I would come back. I sighed, opening the door.

“Harry.” It was quiet.

“Y/n/n.” It almost sounded like a beg. It felt so good to hear him call me that again, a name I hadn’t heard in years. Not since this personality shift.

“You really are the winner.” I didn’t need to further explain myself, he knew what I meant. There really was nobody else who ever had done better at making me feel worse. Nothing that ever did quite kill me more than what he had done. He really was, the winner.

[sxfterhearts]

waves of love

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol!keeho x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by a dream i had??!

♡ word count: 1,940 words

♡ summary: delayed confessions, the ocean, and ice cream ♡

♡ author’s note: omg im not even joking i had this dream and immediately after i woke up i was like write that down write that down anyways !! here it is ! for our beloved leader •ᴗ• (as always, pc to the lovely people on tumblr and insta!!)

//

The bus leaped over the speed bump, lightly knocking your head against the window and waking you from a shallow slumber. Your eyelids, still heavy from fatigue, fought to stay open as you readjusted your posture, grimacing as you felt tenderness in your shoulders and neck.

A fist came up to your eyes to wipe the sleep away. Once it was gone, you were met with a complete change of scenery. Outstretched fields of paddy and rolling hills were replaced with sparkling waters all along the horizon, all in the blink of an eye.

The ocean.

You hadn’t seen it in over a year, since you moved to the city. It was a rarity to get even a glimpse of nature in the concrete jungle you now called home. You involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief, as though your mind and body were at peace again being this close to the open waters. 

Your destination was not too far from where you spent your childhood and adolescence. It was a sleepy beach town, quaint and quiet, but bustling with life once the waters and sand warmed up, the flowers started blooming and the trees turned a luscious green. You used to make the hour bus ride down to the beach quite often during the summer holidays with your school friends. You could spend hours upon hours building sandcastles, splashing each other in the salted waters or just sitting by the beach, enjoying your convenience store ice creams.

Those were the days…

As the bus rounded the corner and got closer to the town centre, you went through a mental list of your friends. One, two, no, three of them had gone overseas to study. Another was currently doing his PhD. One more was married and expecting a baby in fall. Which left just you, a single, twenty-something working an ordinary desk job, trying to make it in the city. And him.

You closed your eyes. Taking a breath, you could nearly remember the scent of the fancy sunscreen his mom forced upon him; could see the striking red and white striped beach towel he would always have around his shoulders; could envision his skin, tanned from the sun exposure (because who on earth would reapply sunscreen?), contrasted with his pearly whites; could feel the sandiness of his hair as you pushed him under from your seat on his shoulders after winning another game of chicken fight.

It was a bit too much. Even though it’s been twelve years since you last saw each other, you could still remember every single detail of him with all five of your senses. It was a good thing that he was the one who reached out when he came back home after studying abroad. You knew that if it was the other way around, you would do a terrible job at hiding your eagerness.

You weren’t sure what to make of this newfound honesty of yours - for months, years, a decade even, you had to constantly lie, to yourself, to him, to your friends, that there was nothing between you and him but friendship. That the lingering glances, the hushed whispers and the accidental touches all meant nothing. Just two teenagers who grew up together; who knew every inch of each other, to hell with genders. Who cares? It’s the twenty-first century, after all…

And yet, there were nights where you wanted to take one small step forward, to reach out just a little further, or to say one more word. You were always on the edge of the precipice; tiptoeing. Thinking, hesitating, and then the moment would pass. The timing; wrong. You would go back to how it always was - light and teasing, and fun, but nothing more.

Someone on the bus pressed for the next stop. Your mind, still fuzzy from all the memories, registered that it would be yours too. You felt it in the depths of your stomach – the nerves that were building up gradually but with ferocity. It had been a long time, twelve years to be exact, and apart from the occasional like on social media or the odd happy birthday message, there had been virtually no contact. The Keeho you once knew, and the Keeho who would stand before you, could very much be two completely different people.

You tried to reason with yourself. This was Keeho, after all. The boy who let you bury his entire body in sand. The boy who would always share his red and white towel with you when you soaked through yours with your damp hair. The boy who called you princess when he gave you piggybacks in the water, splashing around with your friends in a competitive chicken fight before throwing you into the ocean. The boy who made fun of your celebrity crushes. The boy who brought you to watch the sunset on your birthday – a school night. The boy who would make sure you always had the last bite of his ice cream.

It would be fine, right?

With shaky hands, you tapped off the bus and got off at your stop. It was conveniently located in between a popular strand of the beach, and a strip of shops and restaurants. 

“Y/N!” A voice called from far ahead – a voice you no longer recognised. It still held traces of sleepy summers and salty water and yet, it was different; like the sound of polished, deep brown timbre. Moulded with depth, the experiences of life, no doubt; yet strong and dependable.

“Keeho!” You yelled back in greeting, flapping your arms so he could see you from afar. He jogged, and as his tiny figure grew in size, you took in his dressing - still very him, white shirt, white jacket, and jeans. But in the setting sun, you also noticed the silver chain, sparkling earrings and were those things on his fingers – rings?

“Y/N, you came.” He said, out of breath. He was still standing about an arms’ length away from you, pausing to catch a break.

“Of course I would. His royal highness is back, I can’t pass up his summons, surely.”

Keeho looked up, still huffing slightly, and flashed you a knowing smirk. “Still not letting up on the role play, huh?”

You laughed in response. Why were you even worried? It was Keeho, after all.

“It’s been ages, Y/N.” Keeho muttered, voice small and quiet, allowing the words to linger. He took a step forward, breaching your personal bubble, and wordlessly took you into a hug. 

You gasped at the suddenness, but also, the warmth and the familiarity. You could feel it, and you were half certain he could feel it too - the pounding of your poor heart against your ribcage, relentless. 

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there like this. The world passed you by - people walking along the beach, enjoying the sunset. Cars zooming past, late for their dinner reservations. Kids on scooters, eager to get a few more rides in before they were called home by their parents. And in the middle of it, just two kindred spirits, reunited.

“You could’ve visited or something…” You whined, muffled by Keeho’s chest.

“What?” He chuckled, pulling away, but still keeping his arms around your shoulders.

You refused to look up, instead focusing on a particular spot on his snug, white t-shirt. “You could’ve visited… or called. You did neither.”

“I know… Hey,” Keeho paused, using a finger to tilt your chin towards him, yet refusing to remove said finger once he was staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just, life got in the way.”

You punched his chest weakly in response, only to wince slightly when you were met with pain. Damn Keeho and his strict workout schedule (you only knew this from the frequent updates on his Instagram stories).

“So,” Keeho started, uncertain, which was unlike him. He nibbled on his bottom lip, as though contemplating whether he should continue. To hell with it, he thought. “How was the date?”

Your eyebrows scrunched in response. “What date?”

“You know, last night…”

You raised your eyebrows this time.

“You said you went on a date last night and he got you Italian.” Keeho said, all in a single breath and with the straightest face he could manage, no emotions whatsoever.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, remembering that you updated him on your weekend plans when deciding on the best time to meet up. “Right, Intak.”

“Intak, yes.” Keeho repeated, hiding his gritted teeth.

“Oh, it was fine, not memorable. I mean, nice guy, pretty face and everything, but… Why?”

Keeho suddenly let out a huge sigh of relief, steadying himself with two palms firmly gripping your shoulders. “Because, I wanted to make sure before I do this.”

“Do what? Keeho… What are you –”

Keeho shushed you, and before you could register what was happening, he was getting closer, and closer, and closer, and it was all happening in slow-motion and yet too fast, and – oh, oh…

His lips, softer than you ever imagined, met yours in a tentative, gentle dance. Nothing fancy, just honest and eager. And you could tell, from the way they glided against your lips, that this felt just right. It felt like you should’ve been doing this all along…

“Should’ve done this ages ago. I don’t know what took me so long but,” Keeho mumbled, pulling away so slightly that the words were breathed against your lips. “But I couldn’t let some guy –”

“Intak.” You provided, unhelpfully, it seems, because Keeho rolled his eyes viciously. You couldn’t stifle your giggles. 

“Whatever. I couldn’t let some guy have you.”

“Oh, so I’m a commodity?”

“That’s not what I meant! Just – I’m sorry, I’m bad at expressing myself.”

“I’m very much aware of that.”

“Let me make it up to you –”

“Ice cream?” You both said at the same time. Both of your faces split into wide, childish grins.

“Race you, princess!” Keeho declared before giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

“Hey, no fair! Your legs are so long! Wait up!”

//

{ epilogue }

“So how did you know?” You broached the topic gently as the two of you sat knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder on the kerb outside the convenience store. You lost, obviously, and as per tradition, the loser had to buy the ice creams.

“Know what?”

“That I… you know, reciprocated your feelings.”

“Oh, easy.”

You whacked his shoulder. “Do tell.”

“Hey! That hurt…” Keeho whined, rubbing the sore spot with his ice cream-free hand. “Well, it’s really not that hard.”

“Go on…”

Keeho looked at you and contemplated for a few moments, before stating, “Every time I post a thirst trap, like a gym photo or something, you like it within a minute. And then when I check back, you unlike it. It’s almost like, I don’t know – you don’t want me to know?”

You stuffed the ice cream in your mouth and groaned aloud. Your lips were fixed in a permanent pout as you chewed silently on the last of your ice cream.

“It’s fine, the worst bit was definitely when you accidentally liked that photo of me in a suit from two years ago like, last month.”

You were about to bury your face in your knees when Keeho replaced your finished ice cream stick with his own, the last bite, covered with more chocolate than vanilla ice cream, fully intact. You accepted it wordlessly, clearly in a sulky mood as you rested your head on his shoulder.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝.6)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Butcher finally located Mindstorm and you decide that you’d take a back seat on this one, let Ben go on his own with the boys to get Mindstorm so he’d get one step closer to his goal. But what happens when America’s hero get’s his hands on you?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT SEEN THE SHOW!!! Based on S3E7. If you have not seen the episode I strongly encourage you to watch it so nothing will be spoiled for you. Again, not everything in this is executed quite like the show so it’s not accurate but the implication at the end of the episode is the same.

Several days went by and you realized you were in bed with Soldier Boy.

You glanced over and heard him sleeping so peacefully and you smiled before you gently turned on your side to admire his features. It had been nearly a week since Ben came back to your life and it still felt like it was a dream. After so many decades of being without him, you didn’t think you would ever get over the surrealism of it all.

With a cautious hand, you reached up and moved a stray hair away from his face, only to notice a smirk appear on his face.

“You’ve been up for a while.” He spoke, his voice low and raspy enough to make your stomach flip.

“I thought you were still sleeping.” You commented before you moved around and through your leg over his torso so now you were on top of Ben and he let out a chuckle as his hands went to your hips to keep you steady.

“You do tend to move a lot when you start to wake up.” Ben replied and you playfully rolled your eyes before you leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

When you were about to pull away, Ben placed a hand on the back of your neck to keep you there just for a moment longer. You smiled against his lips at his actions, then you placed a hand on his cheek. The kiss grew a little deeper but it was still tender and sweet. You loved these morning kisses with him more than you thought you would.

When you finally pulled away and looked at him, he smiled up at you. He didn’t exactly look pleased when you pulled away from the kiss sooner than he wanted.

“I’m going to go into town this morning. Need to pick up some groceries, sort of a way to thank Legend for letting us crash here unexpectedly.” You said.

“Can’t that wait?”

“It can, but we’ve been in this place for several days lying low and I need to get out for a bit.” You replied.

“Why don’t you let me go with you?”

“Because you’re sort of a wanted man by Homelander himself. And you need to be here when Butcher comes back and tells you and Hughie where to find Mindstorm.” You reminded, Ben rolled his eyes.

“They won’t find him before we come back.”

“Well even if they don’t, I still don’t want to take any chances. If you get caught you won’t be able to get the revenge you want and you won’t finish your goal.” You reminded and Ben grunted, his brows narrowing and you chuckled at how grumpy he could be sometimes when you were right about something.

You leaned down and pecked his lips once more before you got off of him.

“You know you can always send someone else to go get some groceries, like Hughie or something.” Ben said as he sat up, leaning his back against the headboard as the blankets fell from his bare chest. You haven’t gotten used to the sight even if the two of you have… entertained yourselves plenty the past several days.

You pulled on a pair of pants and you looked through some of the shirts you had before you decided on one of them, pulling it over your head and straightening it out, “I’m still going.”

You heard the way Ben sighed and you grinned a little before you put your shoes on and glanced over at him, “Is there anything you want while I’m gone?”

“I guess some Jack. Ran out sometime last night.” Ben replied and you nodded a little as you put on a jacket and grabbed your backpack.

“Be careful out there, will you? You’re so worried about me going out, but Homelander fought you too. You don’t know who might be looking for you.” Ben said, you nodded so he’d know you were heeding the caution.

“I’ll be back soon.” You promised before you walked out of the door.

You saw Hughie was in the living room drinking some coffee and he smiled at you, “Morning, Quake. Where are you off to?”

That name… it still felt weird when Hughie and Butcher called you that. You hadn’t used the supe name in so long, you had forgotten what it felt like.

“Just the store. Thought we could restock the house for Legend since we’ve kind of gone through a lot of his stuff.” You replied and Hughie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Do you want some company?”

“No thanks. You should be here with Soldier Boy whenever Butcher comes back and finds Mindstorm. How’s that coming along, by the way?” You asked.

“We found out Mindstorm’s not crazy. Just bipolar. So we’re checking some local pharmacies that are handing out that kind of medicine and we’re hoping to find one that’s close by one of the cabins we haven’t checked yet.” He answered.

“Sounds like you’re onto something. Your idea?” He nodded at the question.

“Nice one. I’m impressed.” You smiled, “Oh, before I leave, do you want anything from the store?”

“Not really. Think I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” Hughie insisted.

“Shoot me a text if you find Mindstorm before I come back. I just want to be in the loop, but you don’t have to wait for me to come back to head out. I know you and Butcher are a little pressed for time.” You said.

“Are you sure? I can always figure out some way to convince Butcher to stay a few extra minutes.”

“I’d rather Soldier Boy get a step closer to his goal so he can help you two end Homelander now than have to wait on a milk-run.” You insisted and Hughie nodded.

“Alright, if you say so. But what do I tell Soldier Boy?”

“Just tell him I’ll be here when you come back.” You replied before you placed your hand on the door handle, then you remembered something.

“Hey… tell Butcher to find some weed. Maybe that can help Ben not blow up any buildings. I think his PTSD is what’s causing him to lose that control.” You admitted.

“He has PTSD?”

“Wouldn’t you have it if you were poked and prodded and injected with shit you didn’t want then locked up for several decades?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll let him know and we’ll see if it helps.”

You nodded a little before you turned the doorknob and walked through the opened door so you could head out to the store.

You decided to go by foot since the store wasn’t too far from where you land the rest of your little group had been staying. It would do you some good to get some exercise after all. But when you noticed some tvs on the screen you saw a familiar face on the news.

“Starlight?” You muttered.

You saw the news station was playing her previous livestream and that was when you found out she quit The Seven. She was talking about how Homelander was lying to everyone and so was the whole industry. But the one thing that irked you the most what she was saying about Ben.

“Soldier Boy is back. I know I sound insane, but Soldier Boy does not care about protecting the country. He doesn’t care about protecting the people and he probably never did. Homelander is the same way. None of them care.”

Your jaw tightened when you heard her say that Soldier Boy didn’t care. You knew he was a flawed man, but this Annie January didn’t know a damned thing about Ben. To think, she was the one that taped the picture to your very front door. It’s funny just how quickly things can change.

But then you started to think.

Annie and Hughie were dating. They’ve broken up for whatever reason, you assumed it was because Hughie chose to stand by Butcher and Soldier Boy. M.M. you knew was out of the group, Butcher didn’t seem to know where he was but he said they didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye either. So what if, your gut was starting to tell you, what if MM and Starlight were working together?

What if they wanted Ben dead?

Your stomach was in knots at the thought of it all. You hoped you were imagining it and that you were reading too deeply into something. But you’ve been around long enough to know that this may not be something you’re over thinking. You didn’t have evidence to back it up, but you knew something wasn’t right.

Then you realized Annie was talking about how Homelander did something to Queen Maeve. You blinked at the screen and your mind instantly went to Ben. What all would they do to him if they found him again? Would they start to experiment on him and see what could kill him like they did in Russia?

Just as you were starting to change your mind about going to the store so you could go talk to Hughie, you realized something was thrown over your head and you were being carried off.

Well, flown off actually.

Homelander.

Ben was sitting on the mattress going through your chest of letters you had written to him over the years that he’s been away. He’s read about a dozen and it hadn’t even left a dent in your chest.

In the letters, he found more about your thoughts about technology and how a lot of things were changing. How much you didn’t like it and how much you knew he’d hate it. You were right, that he hated all these changes anyway. But he was adjusting for the most part.

He was smiling as he was reading one of your letters from the early 2000’s. 2004 specifically.

Dear Ben.

Nothing special has been going on today, I’ve just been thinking about you a lot. More than usual lately.

I’ve stopped writing those articles about how Vought is behind your disappearance. Not because I’ve lost the hope that you’re still alive, but because I’ve run into a wall. I can’t get past the lack of evidence. Mallory is supposed to help me, but I think she may have given up or she’d holding something back from me. I don’t know.

But I know that it’s getting harder for me to keep digging into your files. It gets harder for me to look at those files now because it just hurts to know that you’re gone.

Instead, I’ve just been listening to a lot of music and reading books. A lot of the music nowadays isn’t as good as what you and I are used to. But there is this one artist I’m beginning to like, and I know for a fact you’d make fun of me for it, but she’s really good. Celine Dion.

Now I know you wouldn’t like her, so I’d never force you to listen because her genre is most certainly not your taste. She’s nothing like Elvis Presley, Jerry Lewis, or even Teresa Brewer and Brenda Lee. Or even some of the classic rock bands you used to like in the seventies and early eighties before your…

Anyway, the closest sound she could have that you might recognize is maybe Cher? Not that you listened to her much. You may remember her from the seventies. But Celine Dion’s love songs are sweet.

I know, I know. You would be cringing and rolling your eyes at me if you end up reading this letter one day.

Anyways, one of her newest songs I’m really liking is called The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.

Yeah, you may be cringing at the title too.

I know you and I didn’t get off on the right foot when we first met. You were kind of arrogant if I recall so you can’t exactly blame me. As much as I love you, you could be a pain in my neck. But the song talks about the first time she ever met her lover, then their first kisses. It’s sweet and sometimes I still think of the first time I realized I loved you.

It was December in 1976. I know, twenty years give or take nice we’ve met is a long time. But Vought was hosting some New Years Party. You and I had already been civil with each other for several years, since ‘54 really. So it’s not like you were as much of a pain then. But you and I were being friendly with each other, just having a conversation.

I have to admit, the previous two years before ‘76 I had already developed some sort of silly little crush on you. But that New Year Party, things changed.

You were in your uniform, naturally, but your helmet was off and everything. You looked incredibly handsome and I was always trying to catch little glimpses of you when I wasn’t talking to other supes, or Edgar, or whoever else was at that party. You were talking up some women, trying your hand at flirting with them and they were just flattering you I suppose because you didn’t exactly get anywhere. You seem to have bad luck with some women, well the ones you wanted to go after anyway.

I remember walking up to you and we started talking just about how far we’ve come since we ran into each other when Liberty wanted me to be introduced to Edgar, how nasty the first impressions were. We laughed about it when we thought about it. That year I noticed you skipped your little Herogasm thing, which was an odd thing for you to do and when I asked you about it, you acted like it wasn’t much of a big deal.

You said something about wanting something a little more intimate with someone. You just hadn’t found that one yet. I cannot tell you just how desperately I wanted to tell you then that I could be that one woman. But I encouraged you, knowing you wouldn’t give up that easily anyway. The right one was bound to be out there somewhere even if it wasn’t me, right?

You offered to buy me a drink and you and I went to Vought’s little bar and we started talking a bit more. You talked about how much you wanted a proper family. You told me about why you wanted to be a hero in the first place, how excited you were when you went back home, only to get a less than ideal reaction from family members. You told me you wanted kids one day, you wanted to be a better father than your old man was, and I knew you could be.

But I remember you sounding a little discouraged as you talked about it so we decided to go outside and get some fresh air. Little did we know that it was almost midnight. When we were outside we talked about where we thought our careers would go since it didn’t seem like either of us were out of our prime. Then before we knew it, people inside were cheering so loudly and we heard fireworks.

You looked down at me and smiled that smile which made my heart soar and you wished me a happy new year. Then you actually thanked me for being there your you, someone to listen to. I don’t know what was going through your head but I wondered if you were thinking about the part of the conversation when we talked about your family. It’s rare for you to open up like that, but before I could ask…. I remembered you kissing me.

Ben, that was the very first time you kissed me. I swear I thought the world stopped and time stood still. I wanted to stay in that moment forever, but Edgar pulled you aside to talk about something. So it was cut short. But I still think about that kiss to this day.

You and I never talked about it until you were already dating Crimson Countess and Payback was formed several years later, but I knew that New Year, that I loved you.

Alright… I guess that’s enough of the sweet stuff. I feel like I’m in some Danielle Steel novel just writing about this so I guess I should end this letter already.

I still miss you every day, Ben. You’re still my world.

Your Y/N.

Ben smiled fondly at the letter as he neatly folded it up before putting it int he envelope once more. He remembered that party all too well. He remembered skipping that Herogasm too, mostly because something hadn’t felt quite right that year. He was starting to develop something for you too back then, which was why he supposed he kissed you at the party.

You were his ideal partner in crime rather than Gunpowder, but he knew you’d never accept that role. He tried to move on because the two of you never talked about that first kiss. So now, Ben supposed that was why he had some sort of feelings for Crimson Countess before the two of you started having your secret affair, if you could even call it an affair since you never touched him when he dated Countess.

While he was reaching towards your chest to pull out another letter, the door opened. He glanced over and saw Butcher and Hughie there in the doorway.

“You got something for me?” Ben asked.

“We’ve found Mindstorm. Gear up so we can head out.” Butcher said.

“Quake’s not back yet. We need to wait for her.” Ben said as he got up from the bed.

“Actually, when she left this morning, she told me that she wanted us to get a head start. She said the sooner we get to Mindstorm the better off we’ll be.” Hughie summarized.

Ben was a little skeptical but he knew you would want him to go off as long as he was careful. He wished you could be there though, that way Ben would make sure nothing would happen to you.

“She said that she’ll be back by the time we come back.” Hughie continued.

Ben sighed a little as he looked over at his uniform that was neatly folded on the dresser, “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

And with that, the three men headed off and after a while they made it to the supposed area Mindstorm was supposed to be.

“So, what is it exactly that we’re walking into?” Hughie asked as Butcher shut the trunk.

“The one thing you need to remember is don’t make any sort of eye contact with the paranoid fuck. And you’ll be good to go.” Ben replied as he lifted the cigarette to his lips. Surprisingly, he felt a little more mellowed out. Not by much though.

Anyway, when Ben started walking off he continued to smoke and he started to think about everything. He started to think about his team members and how each one of them betrayed him. He started to remember the way they’d always mumble to themselves and keep him out of whatever loop.

“Motherfuckers…” He muttered to himself before he looked over at the two he was traveling with, seeing that they were wrapping up whatever they were doing. Probably shooting themselves up with whatever green substance they had.

“You two ready to hit the road? We’re wasting fucking daylight.” He said and the two of them started walking behind him as Ben took off to find Mindstorm’s cabin.

As they were walking, Ben swore he heard the two of them talking the same way that his team did. But they denied ever saying anything.

What was going on with him? He could have sworn they said something. There was even a couple of times when he was alone in a room with you and he swore he heard something, and you would always have to tell him there was nothing there. He couldn’t be going crazy. He was supposed to be sharp at all times.

But now wasn’t the time to be having any doubts of his own sanity. They had a task to do, Ben had a name to cross off that way he could get back home to you. Well, not home, but it was close enough for the time being until this was all over.

As Ben was walking, trying to keep his thoughts collected, he felt something tugging at his ankle and when he looked down, he noticed a wire.

“Sonofa-“

Then there was an explosion, causing him to fly a couple feet away and summersault. As he tried to catch his breath and regain composure, he saw Mindstorm was already hovering over Butcher before slipping away.

“That sick freak.” Ben muttered and he walked over to Butcher as Hughie rushed over to try and wake him up.

“Butcher? Come on, wake up! Come on, Man, we have a job to do, wake up!” Hughie said and started trying to shake him awake.

“No use, Kid. He’s trapped in an endless nightmare.” Ben said, having seen Mindstorm’s work thousands of times over the years.

“We have to get him up somehow.”

“Mindstorm got him into that mess, and he can get him out. But Mindstorm’s about to be dead so-“

“Wait, what?! You’re willing just to let Butcher die just because you want to hurry up and kill him?” Hughie said and Ben lifted a brow. Did he not understand any concept of war at all? You lose people once in a while.

“Hey, the sooner we get Mindstorm dead, the sooner we can get Homelander’s head on a silver platter for you, remember? Now let’s fucking get moving.” Ben said.

“Well why can’t we get Mindstorm to wake Butcher and then you can kill him! You can go to town on him and do whatever you want to him, I don’t care what you do but we have to help Butcher.” Hughie rambled on and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Oh stop acting hysterical unless you want me to slap the ever-living fuck out of you.” Ben said and Hughie went quiet.

“Now, chin up, kid. A deal’s a deal and I’m still going to kill Homelander. Unless you want to end up like Butcher, you’ll buck up and come with me. Butcher would drop anything to kill Homelander in a heartbeat and we’re almost there anyway.” Ben continued.

Then Ben started walking off. When he stopped and glanced behind him and noticed Hughie was putting a bag underneath Butcher’s head. Ben rolled his eyes a little but he turned around and walked off so he could focus on finding the cabin.

Somebody had to keep their head on straight after all.

The bag was finally lifted from your head and you saw you were in a white room with some sort of thick wall of glass. Your feet were placed on the ground before you looked up at Homelander who had his hands on his hips.

“What do you want?” You asked, glaring at him.

“Just to ask you a few questions. Is that so wrong of me?”

“It is when you put a bag over my head and take me up in the air without my consent.” You seethed and Homelander shrugged it off before moving along with the conversation.

“You know Soldier Boy is a menace to society. You know that better than anyone. He killed all of those people at Herogasm.” Homelander told you and you didn’t like where this was heading. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the one hiding everything from the public and playing it off as it’s some conspiracy in Starlight’s head.” You replied.

“Oh, well… you and I both know that’s just to prevent a panic amongst the crowd. He’s dangerous and we don’t want him to kill anymore people. So you’re going to tell us where he is, where he’s going.” Homelander said.

You could see some sort of darkness in Homelander’s once bright blue eyes. But you also saw the one thing he refused to show anyone. Fear.

“You’re scared.” You said with a smirk.

“What?”

“The infamous, brave and courageous Homelander is scared of his predecessor.” You replied with a chuckle.

“Predecessor? Well I’m not scared of him. I’m better than him. I’m the upgrade after all and there’s no way he can beat me.” He said and you could hear the way he was mostly trying to convince himself of that idea.

“Just because you can fly and you have laser vision, it doesn’t mean you are better than Soldier Boy.” You reminded and the hero glared at you before you continued to speak.

“Soldier Boy has faced much more than you could ever have imagined in your short lifetime. And what makes it even better? That’s not even considering his new abilities.” You said and Homelander lifted a brow.

“That’s right, boy. When Soldier Boy was in Russia, he ended up gaining more abilities. Those energy blasts? He couldn’t do that before. He’s killed many supes and rendered his survivors completely powerless. He can take your powers too, you know.” You said and you could see the fear increase.

“You’re lying. He can’t take powers away. That’s not possible.”

“Oh yes it is. He can take your abilities, everything that makes you special and so loved by the country. And he can make you just an ordinary, pathetic man that’s so starved for attention.” You seethed.

“Are you implying that I’m pathetic?” Homelander challenged and you stood your ground.

“Oh I’m not implying anything, I’m stating a fact. I think that deep down, you’re weak. You are nothing compared to the man that Soldier Boy is. And he is more powerful than ever. He’s unkillable, unbelievably strong, and he will kill anyone and anything that stands in the way of getting the revenge he wants, the revenge he deserves to take for himself after your people took him away.” You glared.

“You think we were behind him going away?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t think it. I know it.” You said and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re nothing but just another conspiracy theorist who’s in love with a psychopathic, narcissistic murderer. He’s a mindless killing machine with PTSD and one day he could even turn on you.” Homelander said and tried to turn the tables and you rolled your eyes at the weak attempt.

“Say what you want, but deep down you know that I’m right. And I know that you’re not going to let me go. So I’ll sit here and wait.” You said and you took a seat in the corner of the white room.

“You’re taking this kidnapping surprisingly well…”

“Oh, well… That’s only because I know that Soldier Boy is almost done crossing the names off his personal kill list. I think he has one or two left. And you’re the last one on it. The one he’s saving his best for.” You said with a smirk.

“And when he finds out you’ve taken me? You’re going to be in a world of trouble.”

Homelander seemed to laugh in disbelief and he shook his head before he looked down at you while you sat there.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Quake. But no one respects you anymore. You’re nothing but a conspirator now who should have just stayed in the shadows believing that Soldier Boy died all those years ago. You would have been so much better off. Now tell me where the fuck Soldier Boy is.”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s left his hiding place by now to go somewhere else.” You replied.

Homelander’s gaze darkened once more and he pulled you up by the neck so you were no longer sitting down. You could feel your feet dangling from the ground and the air was starting to escape you, but you could tell Homelander wouldn’t kill you until he got what he wanted.

“Where the fuck is he headed?”

“Is that the best you can do? I’ve been through a hell of a lot worse. Ask Edgar. Oh wait - you were involved in getting him out of the picture.” You seethed.

That was when Homelander slung you around again and your back and head hit the wall. You knew you could use your power to bring this room down on Homelander’s head, but you knew you would need to save your energy, save whatever was left of your power.

You knew that with Butcher’s relentless desire for Homelander’s death, Ben would come for you. And you knew something was coming, and it was coming soon. You wanted to be ready for when that time would come.

Ben and Hughie continued to walk and Ben continued to smoke the weed cigarette he had.

“God, I can’t believe this shit is actually legal now. I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve arrested back in the day. Whose idea was this?” Ben asked.

“To… make it legal or bring it along?” Hughie asked, needing clarification.

“Oh don’t get smart with me.” Ben said and Hughie shrugged.

“California was the first state to make it legal in ‘96. Not all states say it’s legal though. But Quake said to bring it along for you to try it out and see if it helps you any.” Hughie continued.

“Huh… Wonder if she’s tried it.” Ben said but that was when he stopped walking and looked around then he looked at Hughie.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Literally nothing?” Hughie asked but Ben caught the way Hughie glanced behind him and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Christ on a cross, kid. You and Butcher are really attached at the dicks aren’t you?” Ben asked and he shook his head at how pathetic Hughie seemed to be.

“What? Look, why does everything you say have to be so disgusting? Do you talk to Quake like this?”

“Y/N has nothing to do with this. You and I are on a mission and we need to focus on the task at hand, alright? Butcher knows that, hell I bet even Y/N would know that and she’d probably tell you the same fucking thing.” Ben said, growing stern with the boy.

“Oh yeah? And when Y/N got herself hurt with Homelander after you killed those twins and all of those people, it’s perfectly okay for you to get her and make sure she was okay instead of leaving her behind exactly like you’re doing to Butcher?” Hughie questioned and Ben was starting to get ticked off, it was taking everything in him not to smack this kid around a few times.

“I know what Mindstorm is capable of and I know what Quake is capable of so I knew she’d be okay, and I know Butcher won’t be. So quit being so fucking naive, Kid, because you can’t save everyone. There’s not a fucking thing you can do about it sometimes.” Ben continued.

“You can’t save everyone.. right. But for some reason because you think it’s fair in your mind, you think you can save Quake and not save Butcher? You’re nothing but a hypocritical son of a-“

Hughie was interrupted by Ben punching Hughie in the mouth. Hughie clasped a hand over his mouth before he looked at his palm and saw he was bleeding and he looked up at Ben again, “What the fuck, Man?”

“I warned you not to be hysterical.” Ben said coldly before he walked off to continue the hunt for the cabin.

After a mishap with a nun and a priest which ended in the two of them taking bullet wounds to their heads, they finally made it.

Mindstorm’s cabin.

Ben thought he’d never get there. But he and Hughie continued to walk cautiously and Ben could hear the sound of the wind chimes. He wasn’t really surprised that he collected them. When Ben made it to a shed and he crowched down, he pulled out his gun and he glanced around carefully to keep an eye out for Mindstorm.

Ben finally caught a glimpse of him in one of the mirrors that was in the shed and he motioned for Hughie, who had been behind Ben, to take a look so he’d know where he was at too.

Then, Ben lifted his shield up and tried to calm the racing of his heart. He always felt some sort of adrenaline when it came to the battlefield. It was natural. He took in a deep breath before he quietly exhaled and lifted the gun, continuing to peer over the to of his shield as he slowly started to walk forward.

That was when things went wrong.

Ben heard something and looked behind him only to see a pile of clothes behind himself. When Ben turned to look at the mirror he saw that Hughie had taken Mindstorm and teleported.

Ben walked out and looked around to see if his eyes were deceiving him in the mirror, but there was no sign of Hughie or Mindstorm.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed with frustration but he knew exactly where the little runt was taking Ben’s target.

“Butcher…”

Ben rushed out of the cabin and started to retrace his steps back to Butcher’s body.

“Pansy-ass motherfucker. Can’t get the job done.” He muttered.

“Don’t smack him around, Ben, she said. You can’t get anything done like that, she said. Why I outta teach him a thing or two about war myself.” he rambled grumpily, remembering how you were telling him the other day that it was wrong of him to smack some common sense into his teammates like he used to as he made his way through the woods and backtracked.

Sooner or later, Ben found Hughie trying to negotiate with Mindstorm to get Butcher awake. He heard the way the little runt was talking shit about him, saying that he was full of shit and he wasn’t really that brave.

Fuck him.

Instead of interrupting, Ben waited to see if Mindstorm would actually take the deal Hughie was making. The next thing Ben knew, Butcher was awake.

“Alright, show’s over.” He muttered to himself as he grabbed one of his knives and he threw it at Mindstorm with such accuracy that he sometimes surprised himself and he could hear the screams and cries Mindstorm let out.

Ben rushed over, pulled the knife out of the man’s eye. After all, he may need that later. He tossed a bag over the man’s head so he’d avoid being trapped in his own nightmares as he tackled Mindstorm to the ground. He pinned the man down while Mindstorm was trying to fight him off, failing miserably.

Ben punched Mindstorm and he heard Hughie trying to convince him to stop. Ben stood up and without saying a word, he walked over to Hughie and punched the ever living shit out of him and sent him flying.Then, Ben saw the way Butcher stood up and saw the way his eyes were starting to glow.

Naturally, Ben wasn’t really phased by the threat Butcher was trying to make. Ben just wanted to get a point across before he went back to Mindstorm. He knelt over the man and grabbed him by the shirt.

“Hiya, Dan. Long time no see.” Ben said coldly.

“I’It wasn’t my idea. You have to believe me. Please, let me go, I’ll do anything!”

“Oh I know it wasn’t you. It was Noir. But who the fuck gave him the idea to stab me in the fucking back, huh? He can’t even take a fucking shit without Vought giving him the okay. Now spit it the fuck out!”

“Okay okay! They told him to! Vogelbaum had a-a-a replacement for you. T-They wanted you out of the picture. They said it was someone stronger than you. S-Someone who can e-even fly.”

When Mindstorm gave Ben more information, everything was starting to come to his recollection, how that could have happened. But that must’ve been impossible! There was no way something like this could have happened.

Trembling with so many emotions, thoughts, and adrenaline, Ben lifted his shield and started repeatedly smashing it against Dan. Over and over again he would beat him and blood was getting on his shield and on his uniform until there was no sign of life from the former supe. His entire skull was smashed in and you could even see his brain seeping through the bag that was over what once used to be his head.

After that, Ben quietly got up and walked past both Butcher and Hughie.

“Hey! What did he say?” Butcher asked, and Ben said nothing.

On the car ride, Ben was completely quiet.

A replacement… a son….

Homelander.

Ben had always wanted children, but this was never the way he had intended it to happen. He wanted to be the one to raise whatever children he had. He wanted children with you.

That very idea was all that kept him at peace when he was in Russia. Having a future with you in it, where you two could finally be alone in retirement, happy. You two could have a couple of boys that Ben could raise to be ideal men instead of what the country’s been raising nowadays. That was his happy place for all of those years.

He didn’t want it to be this way. He could have even given the mantle to his son, but instead Vought would have rather been cruel and shipped him off to Russia and kill him off like he was nothing.

He remembered the day Vought called him to go to the lab. Something about a genetic experiment. He was a fool to have gone in and listened. But he was a father in 1981 and he never knew about it. How the fuck could they have not told him?

And now Butcher expects him to turn around and kill his own son?

Things were growing more and more complicated and he needed someone to vent to. He couldn’t wait to get back to Legend’s and tell you everything.

Soon enough they made it back and Ben was expecting to find you there waiting for him. He really needed you to talk to, maybe you can help him figure out what to make of all of the news.

But something was off and everything was quiet in the house. Ben looked over at Hughie and Butcher, and they seemed to think things were a little off too.

“Y/N?” Ben called out for you and he started to go to the bedroom you’ve been staying in. You were nowhere to be found.

Several red flags were going up in Ben’s mind.

Black Noir was still out there and he was Ben’s last target. What if he got to you so he could get to Ben in a way? What if someone from Vought got a hold of you? He knew you would never leave him alone like everyone else in his life has, what if something serious happened to you.

Then his worst fears came into mind.

If Vought got you, what if they found the records from ‘83 and they were putting you through that kind of Hell all over again?

Ben walked out of the bedroom and saw Hughie and Butcher had just come in from the rest of the house.

“No sign of ‘er.” Butcher said.

“And you looked everywhere?” Ben said and both of them nodded.

“I don’t think she ever made it from the store.” Hughie admitted, remembering that was where you were headed that morning anyway.

Ben ran a hand through his hair. His mind was going everywhere and he looked at his shield. If anything happened to you because he had to get the revenge he wanted, he would never forgive himself.

He looked at both Butcher and Hughie again, “Get whatever the fuck the both of you need to get.”

“What?”

“We’re going to Vought and taking the fight to them.”

Tag List:

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[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 1)

Twenty years ago my life took a 180 degree turn. After separating from my ex-wife Sandra, Isaac came into my life, and with him an adventure that if someone told you about it you would not believe. In just five years I went through five pregnancies and gave birth to seventeen children, no more and no less. With my husband I had eleven of them, and we adopted the daughter I had with my ex-wife, whom I got pregnant before our separation. And we decided to be surrogates for our friends Lucas, Ray and Tom, six more children. Oh yes, I forgot, I am a man, a man who got pregnant. I know, I'm kind of a weirdo. Although Isaac prefers to say it's a “gift given to me by nature”.

While Isaac and I adore our children and thoroughly enjoyed my pregnancies, we decided to stop making babies. With twelve boys and girls per household we had more than enough. We had dreamed of having a big, happy family, especially since neither of us had grown up in large families. The dream of our lives was more complete than ever. Or so we believe at the time.

After having the sextuplets we decided to leave the city and move to the town where I grew up. There we bought a big house in the country. Isaac and I could work from home, and being close to my parents and sister would help us raise little quintuplets Dylan, Nate, Philip, Edward and Cristina, sextuplets Bruce, Ken, Patrick, Charlotte, Ivana and Jason, and Sandra, the oldest of all our children.

This change allowed me to make a major change in my life. I started to take up sports again and regain a healthier way of life. With Lucas, Gary, Samuel and Frank, my former soccer teammates when I was young, we started participating in the veterans' league. Although I never regained the shape I had before I gave birth, I lost my belly and my muscles started to show after years of being hidden under fat. My ass, two large spheres, and my hips, wide as proof of having given birth to a full soccer team with its starting and substitute players included, were living witnesses that inside me the party of life had taken place.

Isaac and I have strengthened our relationship a lot over the years. He is my soul mate. If I ever had any doubts about our marriage, seeing him day in and day out taking care of our children made me fall in love with him like I did the first day I saw him on that soccer field. Now in his 50s, he is the sugar daddy I once dreamed of as a teenager, when I was still trying to convince myself that I liked women. His athletic body and the gray hair that has slightly whitened his hair is like a dream come true. When he comes home from working in the garden, sweaty and dirty, I have to hold back my desire for him to slam me against the wall and plant his potent seed inside me again.

This is not to say that Isaac and I have stopped fucking, in fact we do it more than ever. The years have made us wilder. And now that our older kids are in college and our younger ones are in high school, we have more time to live our passionate love intensely. Maybe we have too much time, and too much passion for no good.

Yes, as you can imagine, the inevitable happened again. Sixteen years after I had last been pregnant I felt morning sickness and a general feeling of discomfort in my body again. I didn't want to believe it at first. Remember that we had decided not to have any more babies, but Mother Nature had other plans. That's why a condom broke, there was a plan to get us pregnant again. Apparently twelve children was not enough, so a new litter was about to arrive. I was pregnant again.

For the first time in all these years I saw Isaac worried. In spite of having experience in the matter, this was going to be my sixth time pregnant, it was not the same to be pregnant when I was 30 than when I was 50. And I wasn't sure that my body would work the same way either.

“What are we going to do, Isaac, do you want to become a father again?”, I asked him the night after we confirmed the pregnancy.

“Daniel, I don't know. I really don't know, it was no longer in my plans to be a father again. I adore our children and I love you madly, but I have more doubts than ever”, he said cuddling up to me on the bed. “I remember when we found out you were pregnant twenty years ago it was you who had doubts, and me who reassured you. But look at me now, I don't recognize myself, I'm scared of what this pregnancy might mean for you, especially knowing that we tend to have many children at the same time”, he was shaking as he told me, so I grabbed his hand and shook it tightly to try to calm him down.

I gave him a little kiss on the crown of his head. “I didn't expect to find myself gestating a child again either at our age and after going through this so many times. I already felt complete with what we had. But today, when the doctor confirmed that we were pregnant, something changed in me. I have doubts, lots and lots of doubts, but also the desire to be a father again with you”, I told him without being able to look at him because I was so nervous. “I think it's clear to me that I want to have this child, or children. It may be our last chance to be parents again. Who knows. And, I'm not going to lie to you, I love how much the pregnancies brought us together before. So, yes, I want to be a father”. I looked down and saw him crying emotionally, as much as I was. Both with tears in our eyes.

Isaac sat up, grabbed my face and said in a breathy voice, “I love you so much. We're in this together, let's get to it”. We kissed passionately and sealed that night by fucking like animals again.

The following week we got our children together. Taking advantage of the fact that the older ones had returned from college that week for summer vacation, it was the ideal time to tell them all the good news. Isaac prepared a barbecue in the garden. We also invited Esther and her children Svetlana and Boris, the children she had with Yevgeni, who died last year in a helicopter accident.

Our best friends, Lucas and Adam, and their children Daniel and Isaac, the first ones I had as a surrogate, also came. They are also our family, our chosen family. For little Daniel and Isaac, our sons are their cousins, and we are their uncles. Lucas and Adam wanted us to be in their lives from day one. I will be eternally grateful to them, as it helped me cope better with the strange feeling of having given birth to children that were technically not mine. I still have a very close relationship with the other children I had as a surrogate, but they live farther away, so I see them less often. And also, Daniel and Isaac were my first, it's something special, hard to explain.

When they were a little older Lucas and Adam explained to the boys that I was the one who gestated them because they could not. Far from being scared, the children became even more fond of me. They say that I am their favorite uncle. When they tell me that in front of Isaac he gets jealous. I love to see him like that. He looks so sexy in those funny moments.

Before we got to desserts I sat for a while with my sister Esther and Lucas, my childhood friend. She has always been very perceptive, so it didn't catch me by surprise that she was the one who asked me the question, “You're pregnant again, aren't you?”. Lucas was silent and staring at me with wide eyes. “The first time you got pregnant you did something similar in Isaac's apartment in the city. You will have many children, but originality is not your strong point,” she said teasing me as only a sister knows how. I sipped my soda and nodded my head. “But don't tell anyone yet, we want to announce it to all of you today”, I winked.

Both Esther and Lucas were concerned about a pregnancy in my fifties. “Are you sure? You and Isaac have sky-high fertility, so knowing your backgrounds it's possible you're expecting a whole basketball team. Isn't that dangerous at your age?” said a very concerned Lucas. “Yes, we are aware of the complications that may be involved, but we want to give it a try. It could be our last chance to be parents again. It's not a planned pregnancy, but we agree that we want to try. We take all the risks”, I told them.

They both gave me a big hug in that very moment. They are the two people who understand me best. Apart from Isaac, I can talk to Esther and Lucas about anything. Their hug felt comforting, they were giving me their approval and support. I knew that in the face of any difficulty I could count on them in this adventure.

From across the garden Isaac was looking at us. I knew that without explaining anything to him, just by seeing the three of us hugging, he was aware that Lucas and Esther knew about the pregnancy and that they were giving me strength. His smile at the sight of us made me feel even more confident in the decision we had made. It would not be a planned pregnancy, but it would be a desired pregnancy.

After desserts we gathered everyone around the table and Isaac was in charge of telling everyone. “Thank you for coming to our house today. For us it is very important to have the family close to us in all our steps as a couple and as parents. We are about to start a journey with many doubts, but that will once again fill this house with love”. He then grabbed me with his left hand and put his right hand on my belly. In case anyone did not understand his gesture, he proceeded to clarify it by shouting it from the rooftops. “We are going to be parents again. We are pregnant!”, he announced with the same joy with which twenty years ago he told that we were pregnant for the first time.

Everyone started squealing with joy and celebrating. If there were any doubts, our family cleared them all. Our children hugged both of us, some of them crying with excitement as Isaac and I were. Sandra, our oldest, gave me a huge hug, then told me that “mommy would be as excited as I am right now. I can't wait to have new siblings". I think a lot about my ex-wife Sandra, and as my daughter said, I'm sure that on a day like this she would have liked to be with us celebrating. I miss her, I hope she is proud of the family we have given our daughter.

Be that as it may, come what children may, we are on this journey together, Isaac and I. Together about to become parents again. Living the best of our lives.

Go to Part 2

[ellabehavior]

You’re on your own kid ~ Rafe Cameron ☼

Summary: Rafe and you have been best friends since you were young. However, now that he got his new girlfriend you suddenly realized that you could possibly like him more than simply as a friend.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of drinking

A/N: Its been a while yall, but i’m back!! I hope y’all enjoy :)! ( i hateee this but i hope y’all love)

angst to soft!

-

Summer went away,

You’ve been best friends with Rafe since as long as you can remember, but last summer was the summer where everything changed.

The summer before your first year of college.

School was back up and you were also starting to look at Rafe with a different eye. He was taller, tanner, smarter, he’s growing up.

Still the yearning stays.

Everytime you’d pass Rafe in the hallway hed give you a short smile but never really acknowledge you.

You missed last summer when you guys would hang out everyday, tell eachothers every little secret, and have the best deep conversations at 2am.

You knew at this moment that things might never be the same again.

I play it cool with the best of them.

For the first time in months Rafe contacted you, he invited you to go to a party with a lot of people from your school.

When you arrived, that’s when you seen him with her.

He had his arm around her neck and her long blonde hair rested on his lower arm.

I wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me.

“It’s ok, It’s ok” You whisper quietly while gaining the courage to go up and talk to Rafe.

As you walk up to him he gives you a half-hug due to the blonde on his right.

“Hey Y/N i haven’t seen you in a while.” He grins.

“Yeahhh, I guess i’ve been busy yknow with all the test and s-” Immediately you get cut off by a high pitched voice.

“Rafeyyy cmon let’s go play some games this is boring.” She says with a pout.

“Mkay babe. Bye Y/n” The boy said walking away without a glance at you.

It’s ok we’re the best of friends, anyways…

About a week after the party Rafe finally calls to check up on you.

“Hey y/n.” He drowsily says .

“Rafe? It’s 1:00am what are you calling me for?” You voice concerningly

“I just miss my bestie that’s all” He laughs.

I hear it in your voice,

You're smoking with your boys.

I touch my phone as if it's your face.

“Rafe are you high right now?” You almost shout.

“Yes, Maybe, No.” He giggles.

“Rafe do you need me to come get you?”

You rush to grab your keys and your wallet to go pick Rafe up.

“No i’m here with my girlfriend.” He says.

You stop in your tracks, immediately getting a sick feeling in your stomach as soon as those words come out from his mouth.

“Oh Okay, we’ll I’ll talk to you some other time okay?” You suggest.

And with that he hangs up the phone without a goodbye.

I didn't choose this town,

I dream of getting out.

There's just one who could make me stay,

All my days.

As a kid you and Rafe would always talk about how when you guys were 25 you’d move to London together, and to this day that’s still your biggest dream.

You hate this place, it’s full of people who will be rude to you just based off of how you grew up.

Surprisingly Rafe is now dating one of those girls, Lily.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I waited ages to see you there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

You promised yourself after last time you would never go to another college party, but here you find yourself at one that Rafe invited you to.

You would be lying if you said you’re here because you wanted to party, you’re waiting to see him.

You see Lily off in the crowd dancing, She’s perfect. You understand why Rafe would pick her. Her hair flows perfectly in the wind, her makeup is never less than flawless, and even though you want to tell yourself that she’s ugly, she’s one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen.

As you study Lily you see Rafe come up from behind her and hug her.

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

The whole night Rafe didn’t even bat a single eye at you, so you left.

I see the great escape

So long, Daisy May

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

I play my songs in the parking lot

I'll run away

You tried to distance yourself ever since the party, finally realizing this crush is starting to form into something you don’t need right now.

It’s been exactly 2 weeks since you’ve gone no contact with Rafe and if there were 20 stages of grief, you’ve been through 30.

All you want to do is call him, text him, or tell yourself that maybe he’s just using Lily as a distraction because he really likes you.

“Why is it never me.”

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I called a taxi to take me there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that my dreams aren't rare

It’s a cycle.

Another party, Another slap in the face.

You can see the other girls also looking at Lily wishing they could be with Rafe.

The realization kills you to know that it’ll probably never be you in that spot with all these options he has.

You're on your own, kid,

You always have been.

It’s a drunken night, and you’ll definitely regret this.

“Rafeyyy babyyy” you slur.

“Y/N? Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” You can tell he is worried in his tone.

“I don’t like her. She’s rude, you deserve better.”

There is a long pause and then you hear someone speak, “He’s never liked you babe. You’re nothing compared to me, and you know that.”

The phone hung up.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

I hosted parties and starved my body

Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

It’s been hard to do anything since the altercation.

Eating, Getting up, Going to class, Socializing, and pretty much everything feels like a chore.

You’ve tried so hard to get his attention yet he never seemed to care.

And of course as a mean girl, Lily decided to tell everyone about what you said to Rafe. Of course he apologized for what she said, and for what happened but that didn’t stop the whole school for coming at you for a whole week.

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money

My friends from home don't know what to say

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

You received a text message late at night, usual for Rafe.

Rafe: Hey, i’m so sorry for what Lily caused. You’re my best friend and I realized nothing is worth loosing that, me and her are over now after a long talk.. Can we please hang out? I miss you.

Fuck. This is what you’ve been longing for all these months and it finally is here.

You: Yeah sure, Sleepover? my place tmmrw? ;)

Rafe: Ofc. I miss you. Cya.

Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned

Everything you lose is a step you take

So make the friendship bracelets

Take the moment and taste it

You've got no reason to be afraid

The anxiety levels are high waiting for Rafe to come over, it’s been so long since you’ve had a real conversation through all this time of him being with Lily.

You start to wonder if he still likes Starwars, or if his favorite dancing song is 22 by Taylor Swift.

You then hear a knock on the door.

You're on your own, kid

“Hey!! Can I come in” he says.

“Of course.”

Then the catching up, the apology’s, and the stories start up.

It’s just like last summer.

Yeah, you can face this

While Rafe is telling one of his stories, you start to feel a pit of anxiety in your stomach because you know what you have to do.

You’ve gotten ready for this moment, practiced it in the mirror about 50 times to make sure your facial expressions, or your tone doesn’t sound too weird.

You're on your own, kid

“Rafe.” You stop him mid conversation.

“Yes?” he says with a quirk of his eyebrows.

“All these months i’ve been so distant but really all I wanted was to be near you, since last summer you’ve been the only thing on my mind and maybe you don’t feel the same way but-“

He cuts you off with a kiss to your lips.

“I’ve been waiting since the 8th grade for you to say that” He says as he pulls away.

“So all that practicing in the mirror was for nothing?” you giggle.

“Guess so.”

You always have been

[dantheserialkillerman]

Dan Hiroki X GN!Childhood Friend Reader Pt. 2

Contains: Continuing story and Gender Neutral Reader General warning: Long-post TW: Possessiveness/Suicide/Implied grooming

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful crow. Her wings were like the tips of quills freshly dipped, and her claws sharper than the hook of a fisherman's rod—a perfect little bird. Everywhere she went, the forest's creatures would glance at her in astonishment and envy; no owl, robin or dove could compare. The crow knew this and, for a time, enjoyed their praise. What was love, if not the wish to capture? The desire to own what you could not own yourself? Yet, as the days went by, she could not help but feel unsatisfied, for none would approach her, and, eventually, she found herself an idle idol. That was until, one fateful morning, a hunter entered the wood. The man searched far and wide for the perfect game but would deem all beasts crossing his path too dull, ordinary, and a waste of his talents. His frustrations grew until his eyes fell upon the beautiful crow. Having never seen such perfection, the man raised his gun and decided such magnificence could not exist without his consent. In that final breath, staring down the barrel of the rifle, the crow realized a terrible truth: She had finally experienced her first and last act of true love.

You would like to think you will meet again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. 

A memory:

Under the branches, as the rain fell, he leaned his head against your shoulders:  "Do you love me?" "Only in summer." 

There is a strange beauty in defeat. To give up and to let go is an art so painful and euphoric that few can ever master the discipline. Yet, you could not help but try. You had to say goodbye to a bit of life, an old name, to live once again. Sometimes, still, you could smell the hints of a campfire if you closed your eyes for long enough.

After finishing university and moving away from your relative who took you in, you travelled around Japan for a while. It took years to get used to the constant hustle and bustle of the world, and you often felt displaced in the city's hectic life compared to the countryside you grew up in. However, life had finally returned to a somewhat more peaceful state. Not exactly familiar, but it was a softer difference. Recently, you were appointed as a history teacher in a small-town high school. It was a safer career than you had once dreamed of, but it would keep you hidden. That's all that mattered. You enjoyed the mountains near the town.

When you first arrived, some things were unexpectedly painful. The starting months felt like a constant exorcism, a battle not to jump and think you summoned the ghosts of old friends whenever a student came up to ask a question. But the pain was comforting in a way. They had lived and affected the world around them. Even if it was silently, you could carry their legacy and find forgiveness in supplying a future to others. A future they were denied. This was your cleansing.

The students on their end were pleasant, consistently hard-working and upbeat. And, of course, over time, you developed favourites: the creative Hana Kai, the outspoken Yuki Yamamoto, and, especially, the thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa.

Strangely, even with your reservations about closeness, you became rather popular, even finding, at the end of some classes, notes left on your desk: 

Dear Teacher,  Thank you for the class.  Dear Teacher,  I am glad you are feeling better.  Dear Teacher, Please smile more often.   

Despite years of developing a numb compliance with life, you could not help but feel touched. It was nice to be liked and somewhat accepted back into a community, even if it was only a false image they loved. 

However, you could not help but wonder what they would do if they knew that one of their favourite teachers, at night, away from their wool sweaters and bad jokes, dreamt of stone cottages and warm summers? How could they understand how your mind was captured by the sea and the calling of the woods? Even worse, you couldn't imagine their judgment if they knew of the gray eyes that haunted your subconscious. A demon. Shuten-dōji with a laugh: 

I could just die for you. I could just kill for you. And I could just love you until the end. I am you, and you are me. Cut off my head, and I'll grow another on the back of your mind. 

You would wake in terror and yearning. Most nights, you could not go back to sleep. Instead, you would find yourself sitting at the kitchen table, marking or reading anything to suppress the sweet evil lurking behind your fantasies. You had to forget before you lost yourself to dreams. 

In the waking world, you distracted yourself with a growing hatred for the biology teacher, Taisuke Henkyoji. In all fairness, it appeared he despised you in return when it became clear you would not fawn over him. 

He was from a wealthy family with designer clothes, fancy watches, and a carefree attitude. His name was seen everywhere, from the hospital where his brother, Kusuke, worked as the chairman to the only hotel within town. It was a world so far removed from small village roots, worn clothes, and scuffed shoes that you wondered if you could even find it on a metaphorical map. 

However, you could not help but see how he only possessed a dull attractiveness, only passively acknowledged until placed in a position of power. Therefore, it didn't surprise you that he was popular among teenage girls. Yet, out of all those teenagers, you could not help but worry about one in particular. The thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa, who was awkward and sweet, with big dreams and an introverted personality, which reminded you of someone you had to bury so long ago. 

Sometimes, you would catch her absent-mindedly doodling hearts in her notebook or fiddling with her phone with a wistful smile. Other times, while walking the halls, you would pass her peaking into Henkyoji's classroom. It was clear she was infatuated with the man.

It was a worrying love. Innaproate and not helped by Henkyoji's overly friendly and even disturbingly flirtatious behaviour. You had even tried to warn him of Nanami's feelings:

"You need to shut her down gently, Henkyoji-san. This whole situation is unhealthy."  "And you care, why? Jealous?" 

Of what? That comment made you immediately uncomfortable. You tried to go to the principal, who also quickly dismissed your concerns: 

"Henkyoji-san is from a highly regarded family. Such a suggestion could sully not only their image but the school's reputation," - a sigh- "There is nothing to worry about, Y/N... especially if the only evidence you have is an off-hand comment and the crush of a teenage girl. Please, don't bring this topic up again." 

Yet, it echoed in your mind when you noticed how sullen Shirakawa had started to become. There was a growing dullness behind her eyes, a letting go that was much like yours. You could see a dangerous defeatism. 

After class one day, as you saw the young girl merely gaze at her desk the entire lesson, neither moving to take notes nor really paying attention, you decided it would best to ask her to talk:

" Shirakawa-Kun, I just wanted to know if you are feeling okay," You tried to smile empathically, "I know it can be awkward talking to your teacher." "I am sorry, " she rubbed her eyes harshly. " I am just drained." You could see the fear behind her expression. An invisible subject, something cold and dead whose images reflected back a once firey disposition that burnt itself out into ash. "Shirakawa-Kun, I apologize for being so direct, but I know something is wrong."  "I really am okay," she paused for a second, fiddling with her bag, "I really have to get home...my mother needs me to help...she'll be worried if I am held up for too long."  You sighed, realizing any further conversation was a losing battle, "This may seem unorthodox...but please take my number," you pulled out a piece of paper and began to write, "If you need someone to talk to, call me, and we can set up a time to meet in my office." "Thank you." She took what you handed her with a slight reluctance and placed it in her pocket "Please, even if it's not me, know you do not have to handle this alone. I know what it's like to feel the world crashing into you. I promise." 

You closed your eyes as she left and sighed. I know what it's like to love and fear someone in the same breath. I know what it's like to be alone. 

It was easy to imagine him there next to you, as you often did, clothed in black, in a nice jacket, and without colour save for his red lips. Ah, what would you do? Is this what you felt like? Fragmented? 

You could not sleep that night. Sitting at your kitchen table, reading, until at 1 A.M, a single message appeared on your phone:

Dear Teacher, Thx for everything. It was nice to know someone cares. I hope you have a good night. -Shirakawa

When morning came, you were unsurprised that Shirakawa was absent from class. However, you could not have imagined the reason the headmaster pulled you out of your homeroom.

"Why would she try to kill herself?"  "She's a teenager, Y/N! I have no idea why she would do such a thing; I just called you in to let you know about the situation. Do not discuss this with anyone but the staff."  "It was him, wasn't it..." "I said not to bring such a topic up again!" "You can't ignore this forever! Please, just listen to me!" "Go. Back. To. Class. We will pretend this never happened."

Guilt spread throughout your body as if you were drowning. How could you have turned away? Why did you not write back? You felt yourself transform into a frightful and hideous creature that had been tied to the buna tree so many years ago. A coward. A failure. Another child almost died because you didn't act fast enough. Kikue. Reo. I'm sorry.

You had cut class early that day and ran to the hospital. My fault. It's all my fault. You needed to apologize in person. You needed to ask Shirakawa. You needed to know the truth. Fuck Taisuke Henkyoji.

Dishevelled, sweating, and breathless, you ran to the front desk and requested the room number. 

"Are you...okay?"  "Please, I'm here to see Nanami Shirakawa," - a breath- " I'm one of her teachers," The woman at the desk looked annoyed, "Well, you're lucky. It seems she's currently taking visitors; let me phone up the room...I'm not paid enough for this-" A voice...soft... melodious...that itched your memory interrupted, "Is everything alright here?" No...You could not speak. Your throat refused to open. The world swam for a second. "Sir, were just up to see Ms. Shirakawa?"  He was beautiful. He looked just like him. "Yes, she seems to be doing...well...as one would expect in such a situation."  "Hmmm," she hummed, uninterested, "Sorry to ask this of you as a civilian, but since you are here, could you please assist...who were you again?"  "Shirakawa's history teacher," You replied shakingly. It's not him. It cannot be him.  "Your name?" The woman rolled her eyes. You took a deep breath. You had changed your name when you lived with your relative. You were not you anymore, even if it was him somehow, "Y/N."  "Y/N?" The man turned to you fully. Shuten-dōji. He looked like your Shuten-dōji, "What a..." He paused as if startled before quickly composing himself, "Lovely name..."  "It's pretty common," He looked at you with such intensity you thought the ground would swallow you up. It can't be him. It wouldn't make sense for him to be here. You were literally in the middle of nowhere. The lady at the desk signed, "Well, you two are very sweet, but if you could kindly take Y/N up to see Shirakawa, that would be very helpful. I have to talk another call...so..."  The man gave the woman a bland smile and beckoned you to follow him. You could feel the sweat build upon the back of your neck; his grey eyes followed you like a snake to a mouse, refusing to let you out of his sight.  "You didn't ask me for my name,"  "I'm sorry?"  "My name, would you like to know it?"  "Oh, my apologies. I'm just a bit scattered today,"  "That's understandable, considering..."  "Yes, considering I would like to know your name."  The man laughed and mumbled, "You sound just like them...look just like them... you could even think," A distant look filled his expression, "It's like looking at a photograph," He seemed to catch himself, "Ah, sorry, I had a close friend that left me many years ago; I lost myself for a moment. I believe we are both scattered today." You wanted to change the subject as soon as possible. A coincidence. It has to be. The world wouldn't be so cruel. The Kirin would not be so cruel.  "How do know Shirakawa-kun?"  "I saved her from drowning."  "What?!"  "I'm a very strong swimmer." He glanced at you with subtle amusement, and then a look of distant grief entered his eyes. "My name is Dan Hiroki." You stopped. No. "Is something wrong?" Yes. Something is very fucking wrong.  "Oh, it's nothing...It's been just a long day..." You needed to leave as soon as possible, "Actually, I just remembered I forgot something at home-" "Hmmm," He hummed as if thinking, "I think you should see Shirakawa-kun." He stopped and grabbed your arm as if trying to ensure you could not flee. His grey eyes, searching as if trying to figure something out, "I fear she needs all the moral support she can get right now." You bit your lip hard, thinking of a way to escape this. Fuck. What if he recognized you? What would he do? A man capable of killing without remorse, you shivered just imagining the type of torture he would inflict. How could you leave without looking suspicious? "It..." Shit. "Your right. However, I really can't stay for long." He continued to walk, not letting go of your arm, until stopping before the elevator, "You really do look just like them...It's been so long...ah, memories... memories, a cruel mistress."  "I can't imagine," the evaluator dinged.  "Fufu, for some reason," He pulled you inside, "I feel like you might," You could feel the red string of fate being pulled, "Yes, I would love to get to know you, Y/N." 

You would like to think you would have met again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. You never thought you would meet in a hospital. You never thought he wouldn't recognize you. 

A memory:

"Please don't cut off my head, Minamoto no Yorimitsu" "I promise, but only in summer."

One day, you thought you would meet again, surrounded by summer.

A memory:

"Tell him I died. He would come looking for me otherwise. You know why I am asking this. Don't let me bring you shame. Please let me go."

The ride is silent until the final ding. He smiles at you once you reach the right floor.

A memory:

"Y/N, wait for me next summer?" "You know I always will be here.

His left eye twitches and his smile grows.

"Shall we go see your student?" He pulls your arm gently, his now fully lopped with your own. "I don't think I have much of a choice." "Be careful, Y/N," He chuckles darkly, "I might just grow fond of you." "There is nothing to be fond of." You walked out together and felt his hand tighten around your bicep as if worried you would run away.

A memory:

A place filled with tiny stone houses, crumbling temples, and giant windmills with rotor blades like dragons' teeth, gnawing away at the occasional gale. "Do you believe in the Kirin?" "I believe humans are cruel, and Gods are crueller."

The red string of fate tugged again as you headed towards the hospital room and into an unknown future.

You fear Dan would never let you go if he discovered your true identity. You feared much worse than death. There truly is a strange beauty in defeat.

A memory:

This was your home. All you could ever want. "Hey, Y/N, look up! There's a flock of crows." "Actually, I think it's called a murder."

[xannaelizx]

Mine (Taylor's Version) Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Mine (Taylor’s Version) - Taylor Swift 

Johnny (Soap) Mactavish x Reader 

Left a small town, never looked back 

The moment Johnny turned 18 his sights were on joining the British Army, well to be honest it was long before his birthday, only now it was achievable. The dreams a young man had of fighting a war had overridden any of the dreams we had originally shared. Talks about a house close to both of our families, a large enough family of our own for a football team, left behind, with me. A goodbye at the train station was all I was afforded, a strong hug, one last gentle kiss, a soft “bye lass.” And he was gone, leaving our small hometown to fight wars all over the world, he got on that train without so much as a look back. 

Do you remember we were sitting there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time 

As I walked the short distance back home my thoughts were on our memories together. I smile nostalgically at the memory of our first date, nervous and bashful little 16-year-olds. Sitting along the lake bank with a lunch Johnny’s mother had made for us, a few inches of space between us, neither brave enough yet to move closer. Laughing when our hands touched as we both went to grab a strawberry. I can still feel the heat of the flush that grew on my cheeks. I grabbed the strawberry and held it out to Johnny. “Was this the one you wanted?” I asked cheekily as I smirked and popped the fruit into my own mouth. Johnny gasped dramatically and reached over to grab my arm, pulling me in close to him. “Aye c’mere you thief!” His arm went around my shoulders to keep me close to his side as his other arm went around my back to grab a strawberry of his own, a triumphant smile on his face as he took a bite.  

You are the best thing that’s ever been mine 

Johnny was the best thing that had ever been mine. So, when a few years later he shows up back in town for a brief time, I didn’t hesitate to let him back in. To refamiliarize myself, take in the latest changes and scars he had gained. I could see it in his eyes, Johnny was flourishing, the military is where he was meant to be, where he felt at home. So, I could not fault him for that. All I could do now was ask him to come home safe, to me, whenever he could.  

Flash forward, and we’re taking on the world together 

 Johnny and I got things down to a T. The deployments were tough, sometimes there were weeks, even months, where he was radio silent. Of course I was worried every moment, but I also knew he keeps his word, and his promise to come home safe would not be one he would forget. The times he was away made the times he was home all the sweeter. We found new ways to cherish each other in short time frames, silly selfies sent between different sides of the world, voice messages left for whenever his phone had a signal again, calls at all odd times of the day or night whenever he was available to.  

So, it really was not particularly surprising we found ourselves here. I watch Johnny lovingly from my seat at the top of the room. I barely hear the words he says to our family and friends as I just get lost admiring him, but my attention is drawn back as I notice him turn to face me. An elated smile adorning his face as he speaks again. “Cheers to my beautiful bride! She is the best thing that’s ever been mine.” 

Okay wow so that became more then I originally thought it was going to be. Please let me know what you thought! This is my first time ever writing anything besides essays for school and even then it has been years. I was listening to Mine by Taylor Swift on my way home from work, and I just couldn’t get Johnny out of my head. I felt like this song really works for him. And now I’m also thinking of more Taylor Swift songs that would work for other members of TF141, so let me know if you want to see more!