#sometimes it is better to let go than to hold on

[seasprincess]

bf!rafe and his tantrums

fluff!

warnings: none, short one

Rafe has little tantrums all the time. You knew that better than anyone. You’d be there when he’d shout at some poor guys at a party for being to loud. Or when he’d shout at his sisters for going into his room.

He’s a spoilt little princess sometimes and it is rather funny to watch.

Even if it does mean that you have to calm him down. Usually by kissing, hugging or more…interesting ways.

“Dude fucking play the game!” Rafe shouts down the mic at poor Topper. He just wanted to play fortnite, not be yelled at by his friend. But of course Rafe gets too competitive like usual. Fragile masculinity routed in a fortnite game.

You just look up from your phone while laying on his bed. Rafe is tweaking, fist clenched and eyes locked on the screen. If anyone was to look at him they’d think he was a thirteen year old boy whose life revolved around a video game. Quite accurate.

“Are you fucking stupid!? Oh my god!” Rafe shouts again before slamming his controller down. You look at the screen and see that he’s been killed, coming in second place.

Rafe’s hands drag down his face, taking a deep breath before turning off his headset. Not even saying goodbye to Topper. He’s such a moody bitch sometimes. Even worse than you.

“Rafe, baby, it’s a game.” You say as you place your phone down. Not being able to stop the small smile that appears on your lips.

You’ve reacted the same way when you put on clothes that you thought would match but didn’t. But you still think he’s overreacting.

“Mhm.” Rafe says before biting the inside of his cheek. Stopping himself from saying something snarky back. In his little tantrums he will usually be snarky to you too. But seeing as he’s trying to stop that and being on his ‘best behaviour’ for you.

You can’t help but chuckle before holding your arms open. Signalling for the boy to come hug you.

Rafe sighs before heading towards your embrace, his head on your chest as your fingers find his hair. Well lack of.

You gently rub his head as he sighs. Letting his muscles relax as he slowly breathes in and out, calming himself back.

What a stroppy little princess he is.

a/n: thought of fortnite. wrote this. miss fortnite.

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[thebisexualdogdad]

I can be romantic sometimes - Tim Bradford x Male!reader

“Well don't you boys look handsome,” Angela jokes as you and Tim walk into Luna's charity gala in your suits.

“Why thank you Angela, see Tim I told you you looked good,” you smile at your boyfriend before turning back to Angela and Nyla, “he wanted to stay home and eat pizza and watch Die Hard for Valentine's day.”

“That does sound like Tim,” Nyla laughs.

“The only reason I'm here is because I was promised alcohol and a fancy hotel room to end the night in,” Tim says sarcastically.

“And you will get all of that,” you wink at him.

The gala goes on and Tim does his best to pretend to be interested in all the conversations he's thrown into, the only thing getting him through is his drink and the occasional grab of your ass he's able to sneak in.

Eventually the auction comes to a close and Luna says her thank you speech and Tim drags you to a more secluded part of the ballroom.

“Finally, now can we go to our room?” He says with his hands on your waist, kissing you wantingly.

“Yes, we can go to our room now mister grumpy cop,” you smile into the kiss.

“Of course Lucy showed you that,” he sighs but takes your hand and guides you towards the elevator.

Luckily you're the only ones who enter so Tim can press you into the wall, kissing you harder and starting to loosen your tie. Stumbling into your room you see something out of the corner of your eye and pull back.

“Are those rose petals in the shape of a heart on the bed?” You ask him.

“I can be romantic sometimes,” he chuckles, taking his suit jacket off then yours.

Kicking your shoes off the two of you make it to the bed, you laying back on the rose petals with Tim smiling down at you. He undoes his shirt, letting it hang open as you attempt to get out of your pants, Tim helping you the rest of the way before ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes.

Once both naked he climbs on top of you, kissing you hard as he rubs his cock against your thigh. You feel him getting harder so you reach down to stroke him, Tim moaning from your touch.

“Do you want to top tonight?” You mutter into the kiss.

“God yes,” he sighs.

He kisses down your neck and to your chest as you continue to work him up with your hand, Tim taking two fingers in his mouth then gently swirling them around your hole. He eases one finger inside, letting you adjust then slowly pumping it before adding the second.

When you feel prepped enough you tell Tim, “I'm ready,” and he nods, grabbing the lube he left on the nightstand when he came by earlier to arrange the rose petals.

He lathers himself in the lube, raising your hips and teasing you with the tip. You roll your hips when he pushes the first few inches of his cock inside, moaning loudly when he bottoms out.

Tim looks at you to make sure you're okay to continue and when you give him the go ahead he finds a slow pace with his hips. As he moves faster the rose petals start to bounce on the bed.

You watch the way Tim's abs flex as he's fucking you, Tim's attention on the way your cock is swaying with every thrust. He holds on tight to your hips, staying focused on making you cum.

After a few minutes you feel your orgasm approaching, Tim raising you higher for a new angle that makes your toes curl.

“Right there, just like that,” you moan.

Tim grins, doing his best to hit that spot inside you as your eyes roll back. You reach down to touch yourself, yelling a few obscenities when you cum all over your stomach.

“You are so hot when you cum,” Tim tells you, sweat beading down his chest as he nears his own release.

“Cum inside me Tim,” you reply and he does just that, filling you up as he rides out his climax.

Taking a moment to catch your breath he pulls out, laying down next to you in the rose petals.

“Better than pizza yeah?” You chuckle.

“Way better than pizza,” he agrees.

You roll over and put your hand on his stomach, inching it down to his now flaccid cock, “how about we order room service and get in the shower. I can have a turn topping and by the time we finish you'll get both sex and a pizza.”

His cock twitches at the thought and he jumps up from bed to find the phone, “we have to do this every Valentine's day.”

[iimplicitt]

LET’S GET DINNER | LN4

valentine’s day one shot <3

pairings: lando norris x unnamed fem! character

summary: what better last minute valentine’s date could there be than the one person she absolutely cannot stand?

a/n & warnings: language, fluff mostly, kind of enemies to lovers? second chances

•••

The fourteenth of February had always been a day she hated. In fact, she could remember the exact time and day her hatred had taken root. She was in sixth year, freshly sixteen years old and the clock hit five in the evening. Her not-quite boyfriend had ruined everything, including her romantic heart that hadn't quite beat the same since then.

Sure, letting a sixteen year old boy ruin your perspective on love sounded pathetic but she tried to not invalidate her emotions.

She hadn't dated anyone since nor did she even entertain the thought. Her friends in university thought she was insane and lonely. Charles Leclerc, who she sometimes did PR for, thought she was letting her years go to waste, had tried to set her up a few times but those failed miserably. Especially with one particular British driver.

After that dumpster fire Charles let her lack of love life drop and she sort of became a third wheel sometimes when he and Alex invited her out when she was in Monaco.

But she wasn't lonely, she was perfectly content being on her own. She had her own flat in London, her own career, her own hobbies as well as two lovely cats who loved to cuddle with her.

Life was perfect.

Yet at the moment she couldn't successfully ignore the bitterness clawing at her heart as she watched all the couples eat romantic dinners across the street from her. Covered from the rain by a veranda that was swathed in roses and fairy lights with candles and wine covering their tables.

Meanwhile she was stuck under a flimsy umbrella with holes in it trying desperately to hail a cab to get back to her hotel. She was freezing and her hair drenched, stuck to her forehead and her makeup was surely running down her cheeks in streaks of charcoal.

"You look pathetic."

She, if possible, froze even further at the sound of his voice. She must be dreaming, given it was a voice she hadn't heard in two years, not to mention it had been in an entirely different country. It sounded like the voice of the man she hated the most, the man who made her life feel like hell, and made her question herself daily. Charles’ failed match making experiment.

But no, it couldn't possibly be him. They screamed at one another that they never wanted to see each other again. She had blocked him on everything. Completely avoided him if she had to attend a race weekend. Usually staying locked up in Ferrari’s garage. Grimacing anytime she accidentally caught sight of him on the screen.

Whoever it was is probably just talking to someone on the phone.

"Have you gone deaf or are you as rude as I remember you?"

She shut her eyes and took a small breath before exhaling and it danced in front of her as she mumbled the word, "Fuck."

Turning rather slowly, her eyes flicked up to the man standing a few feet away from her and paused before an insult left her mouth. How could someone possibly become more gorgeous in two years? It wasn't fair.

Lando Norris smiled at her, his lips pulling back and he gave the resemblance of a shark who just caught a whiff of blood in the water.

Regaining her composure, she lifted her chin and tried to ignore the thought of how ridiculous she probably looked at the moment. "What are you doing here?"

"No hello? How are you? Has London ruined your manners?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you stalking me?"

Lando threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and it carried over the cold breeze and made her shiver. He shook his head and adjusted the hold on his in-tact umbrella and she grew jealous. Not to mention the thick wool coat he was wearing. She would kill for that. In fact, she might kill him and steal it.

"Did you forget I live here?"

She blinked and pulled her eyes away from his coat. "What?"

It was now his turn to narrow his eyes. "Are you alright?"

She wasn't fooled by his shallow attempt at empathy and her own sharp laugh left her. "I'm fine. Why on earth did you move here? You really hate paying taxes that much?" Part of her couldn't quite believe she was engaging in small talk with her arch enemy (Dramatic? Sure) but perhaps that was part of maturing.

He took a step closer and his legs brought him right next to her, nearly sending her off her axis. She didn't remember him being quite that tall but he stood probably a whole head above her. His shoulders filled out his coat nicely and his dark hair had windswept curls that framed his sharp features beautifully. Meanwhile, she was sure she looked like a drowned rat.

"I moved here a while ago. Most of the drivers live here now."

She raised her eyebrows and whistled. "With the amount of money you’re making it must be doing wonders on your ego.”

He shrugged, looking nonchalant about his success as always and she clenched her jaw. She had struggled to find a job after graduation that would pay her enough to live sustainably yet Lando had a long list of partnerships practically groveling at his feet along with his drivers salary. Was he great at what he did? Sure. Did that make it any less infuriating? Absolutely not.

"What are you doing out all alone on this special day?" He asked, a tease in his tone and she was tempted to punch him in the throat, steal his umbrella, and then run away despite being in stilettos and the ground was wet.

"I could ask you the same question." He always seemed to have a different girl on his arm after they decided they were no good for each other. In the small glimpses of tabloids she had seen him on the cover of. Lando couldn’t seem to cope with being alone. So the fact he didn’t have a model on his arm at the moment was shocking considering his looks although perhaps his shitty personality had something to do with it.

Instead of answering her right away, his arm reached out and took hold of her umbrella. She was so caught off by what he was doing that it fell easily from her wind bitten hands, however cold rain didn't hit her head, instead his umbrella covered her.

"I've never found someone tolerable enough to spend the day with."

She blinked at him as rain quickly soaked into his clothes and hair, making the curls fall into his eyes and water dew up on his lashes. His eyes were gleaming.

"What are you doing?" She sounded stupid even to her own ears. He was being a gentleman, but the idea seemed so outlandish to her that he was being nice.

"Your umbrella had holes in it." He said simply, as if that was the only logical reason for his action.

"But you'll get wet."

He laughed again, "It's a bit late for that."

Her cheeks warmed and the sudden feeling that rocked her chest made her giddy yet nauseous all at once. Something she hadn't felt the pang of in years and it frightened her. Lando offering her his umbrella was the bare minimum, yet for some reason that made her impression of him soften up at the edges.

Lando held out his free arm and waved a cab down, within seconds one pulled up to the curb and her mouth fell open.

"How did you do that? I've been trying to get a cab for ages and I've only been splashed on."

"They probably recognize me." He opened the door for her and made sure the umbrella stayed over her as she got into her seat, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at his statement.

She looked up at him and damned herself for blushing again at how handsome he looked as he gazed down at her, drenched from the rain.

"Thank you-"

"How about dinner-"

They spoke at the same time in a single breath.

She stared at Lando, dumbfounded at the fact she wasn't repulsed by the idea. She turned around and looked at all the couples across the street through the window, wondering what it would be like to be one of them for once.

She slid across the seat to make for him. "That sounds lovely."

His smile didn't seem shark-like anymore. He just looked happy.

“Whoever brings up how annoying the other one is first has to pick up the tab.” He muttered as he shut the door, his rich cologne suddenly swarming around her. Making her feel dizzy as if she had slipped under an opium induced haze.

“That’s not fair. We both know wherever we’re going you can probably afford to buy the restaurant.” God, looking at him this close after so long felt surreal. He was so handsome it was aggravating.

He sighed, as if she was being unreasonable and then turned his head to look down at her. So close that their knees were touching and she could see the flecks of green in his eyes. She couldn’t help it as her eyes briefly flicked down to his mouth. Attraction had never been their issue, the sex had been great but they could never seem to end a day without arguing and screaming at each other.

Her eyes danced back up and her breath trapped itself in the back of her throat. The way he was looking at her, eyes darkened by the shadow of his lashes. Gazing so intently, like he wanted something.

“Lando we both know this usually doesn’t end well-“

When he kissed her she didn’t complain. But she couldn’t admit to herself that she had missed this. Him.

They were probably making a mistake. Undoing two years of whatever personal growth they had managed to build up.

But fuck it, it was valentine’s day. They could get dinner. No harm in that.

[omgsecretsecret]

Wife

Pairing : Han Jisung x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : fluff, a tiny little bit of angst I guess? reader is just a bit anxious

Word count : about 1,750 (I never thought I would write that much)

Warnings : probably nothing lol. Talking about marriage if that's a warning? I didn't make it about a specific religion because marriage don't always have to be religious and I wanted to include as many persons as possible

Author's note : this was supposed to be out for Valentine's day but I'm 2 days late (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ ; thanks to a lovely friend of mine for helping me proofreading it ; I know the title is "Wife" but I promise it's really gn reader ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Taglist : @giddyfatherchris & @0omillo0 <3

Masterlist

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

You had been thinking about it for a while. Jisung and you have been dating for a few years now, you even moved in together. He is always the perfect boyfriend, taking care of you when you are happy and when you are not, making you laugh and comforting you. You did have a few arguments, but never anything big enough to threaten your relationship. He is always mature enough to stop before it gets too big. He always makes time for you, and the way he looks at you with all the fondness in the world is just another proof of his feelings for you. And in return, you love him just as much. You hold him when he's down, cook and and help him shower when he's too tired, attack his cheeks with kisses to cheer him up, and always give in to his pouty lips and boba eyes when he asks for 'just a tiny peck' and he ends up pulling you in for a few more 'or he will die'.

He likes to hold your hand pretty much all the time, but he gives you more space when he knows you need it. When he cooks, he always makes a little heart with some items on your plate. It can be with sauce, rice, vegetables, a scrambled egg, anything. It's silly, it can be on the whole dish or just a tiny one in the corner, but it's adorable. He knows your favorite drink, and is always proud to order it for you when you go out. He notices when you run out of something, and always makes a quick run to the nearest store to make a little stock. He sometimes sings you to sleep, and it is your favorite thing ever.

It's the little things that make your relationship so great, and you hope it's the same little things, with maybe some more added, that will keep you happy in your marriage. Because that is what you have been planning. You want to spend the rest of your life with him, and what better way than this to make it official. You know everybody doesn't have to get married, but you want to.

Planning your proposal took a little bit of thinking. You wanted to make something special, of course, but nothing too grand. You know Jisung would be uncomfortable with anything too big. You need a cozy place, at a moment when you are both relaxed (or at least he is), something sweet and personal. That is how you got the idea of a home date.

Jisung and you have started watching an anime together a few days ago because he insisted that you would like it. And so, this would be the evening when you would propose to him.

You have prepared everything. Today is your boyfriend's day off. You're pretty sure he noticed that you are more stressed than usual, and it's probably why he keeps being so so gentle with you, but you don't let that disturb you more. You appreciate his care more than anything, really, but you're too busy making sure everything is perfect to try to reassure him.

You get all of the snacks ready, set all the pillows and blankets perfectly on the sofa and check at least three times that all of the other details are exactly like you want them. You can then finally change into comfortable clothes like every time you organize a home date like this one, except this time you pay more attention to your appearance, taking more time to get ready in more depth to make yourself pretty for the special night.

When you come out, you can't help but feel a wave of affection at the sight of your boyfriend in his oversized warm hoodie and soft pair of sweats waiting for you. He looks a little tense too, probably because of how you have been stressed, and you'll have to help him relax. He's already sitting in the middle of all of the pillows. He immediately perks up at the sound of you entering the room and looks at you, a heart-shaped smile blooming on his face. He pulls up the cover so you can sit next to him and cuddle and he just looks so cute all excited but still slightly concerned about your nervous state.

You give him a soft, genuine smile before making yourself comfortable on the couch with him. You know you have to relax, at least so he can enjoy the show without worrying about you. So you give him a small peck in the lips, rest your head on his shoulder and start the episode.

Unfortunately, your resolution of being relaxed is soon forgotten as you think about what you are going to do tonight. What if he says no ? While preparing everything for today, you were more focused on choosing the right ring, right moment and place, and it's only now that your mind really drifts off to all of the failing possibilities. You're not focused on the anime anymore and it must be obvious because Jisung speaks up at the end of the episode.

"Jagi ? Are you okay ? You weren't even watching. he says in a slightly concerned tone, lips forming a small pout.

— I'm good, baby, sorry about that." you quickly reassure him. "I was just distracted. I'm thirsty right now, do you want something to drink too ?"

He simply nods, big doe eyes following you as you get up and go to the kitchen. Once there, you take a minute to compose yourself. You have to do it now. If you don't do it now, you won't do it tonight, and you don't know when you'll do it. You grab two glasses for your boyfriend and yourself, pour the drinks and take them in one hand. With your other hand, you carefully take the little box that you had hidden earlier and slip it in your pocket. This is definitely not as romantic as what you had planned. You have been anxious all night and you don't even know if Jisung enjoyed it that much. Maybe a regular date out in a restaurant would have been better ?

You shake your head. You would have been just as anxious in a restaurant anyway, except it would have been in public. Now is okay. You take a deep breath and go back to the living room where your boyfriend is waiting for you. You set the drinks down on the table next to your snacks and Jisung is quick to pull the soft blanket up again so you can sit next to him. But this time you don't.

"Before we continue our date there is something I want to tell you. Or ask you." great, first sentence and you already sound stupid. But Jisung doesn't seem to think the same way because he takes your hand as a silent encouragement. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while now. You make me happy, so so happy. Every day when I wake up, you're there with me. You are kind, you are funny, you are gentle, you are strong, you are cute, you are smart, you are creative, you are very too, and there is still so much more. Every moment I spend with you is full of happiness and I want it to last forever." now this is smoother.

You clumsily get on one knee in front of your boyfriend, shaky hands gripping the small box firmly. "So, Han Jisung, will you marry me ?" you see his eyes fill with tears and you hope they are happy tears. "Will you stay with me and be my wife ?"

Silence.

Will he be your wife ? You are so stupid.

"M-my husband ! My husband ! Will you be my husband ! Oh my gosh..." you cover your face with your hands, mortified. How could you make such a dumb mistake when you are fucking proposing to your boyfriend ? The silence is deafening until a laugh which you love is heard. Warm hands grab your wrists and pull them away from your face.

"Baby, it's okay ! If anything it makes it even better." he says while laughing. "I never thought this would happen tonight, but I couldn't be happier." his eyes get watery again. "You are the love of my life, jagi, I want to marry you."

You smile brightly, squeezing him in your arms as tightly as you can. You kiss him with all the love you have for him, your tears of joy mixing with his, before you gasp and pull away. You quickly get back in your previous position and grab your little box again, looking up at your boyfriend– no, your fiancé. You slide the ring on his finger and he entwines your hands.

"So.. what color do you think my dress should be at the wedding ?" he chuckles as he pulls you closer. "I have to look pretty when I officially become you wife !" he teases.

— It was a mistake ! you whine as you hide your face in his shoulder.

— You're so cute. I know you like when I wear a skirt, maybe I should do it more often...

— Stop it !" you cover his mouth with your hand, embarrassed. "... Though I wouldn't hate it." you mumble. He is indeed very pretty in a skirt.

He chuckles again and gently removes your hand from his face. His eyes are still a little moist from his tears of earlier, but you know they were good ones.

"Noted." he says softly, looking at you with a fond gaze. "Is that why you were so nervous earlier ?" he asks and you nod. "Okay. I was a little worried. But it was worth it, I'm your fiancé now !" he grins.

You both stay there for a little while, trying to process that you are engaged now, that he isn't just your boyfriend anymore. You still have lots of time to plan a wedding, so neither of you think about it. You just cuddle peacefully and eventually watch the episode again so you can actually follow the story. It's impressive how quickly you went back to usual. You're cuddling just like you normally do, and from the outside it probably looks like nothing is different, but you know that something between you changed, in a good way. You have the promise of a forever, and you can't wait to call him your husband.

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[crkfragmentedsouljams]

SINCE NOW EP8 OF BEAST YEAST HAS FINALLY RELEASED..(as of writing this) im gonna finally talk abt my crk au ive been thinking of for months-

| Fragmented Souljams AU! — Introduction/Masterpost ig-

(FSAU for short)

This crk au is basically: What if the ancients loses to the beast and is now under their control? :)

| General Info:

Blog is owned by @cheesymellow (MINOR!) :D.

This is still a massive WIP and i dont have that much planned rn for this. But feel free to ask questions in my asksbox or in the comments!-

Fanart & Fanfiction are COMPLETELY OKAY!! Aslong as its sfw (any fanart/fanfic made by another person is not considered canon)

If you want you can even ask stuff to the cast! Ex: “Empty Vanilla how is it like in the spire?”, or “Soulless cacao, Do you like peach baos?”. (Its optional to call the ancients by their AU name btw, you can still call them Pure Vanilla, Dark cacao, & Golden cheese :D)

If you have any non-au related questions, Just ask in my main blog @cheesymellow

Eyy you interested? If you are, All character info & stories r DOWN BELOW!!

| The Lineup of characters! (DC is incomplete 💔)

—Designs might change in the future!

Lets start off with..

| Pure Vanilla/Empty Vanilla

Empty vanilla is now a shell of his former self. His souljam exploding unknowingly whilst falling down the tower (EP7). Injuring him in the chest and half of his face, even severely damaging his memories… Now with those damaged memories. He contemplates if he is “Pure Vanilla” or “Truthless Recluse”. Residing in shadow milk’s domain to find answers. (At least, thats what he’s been told.)

As for Gingerbrave, Strawberry, And Wizard cookie. They all are forced to reside in the spire. Reluctantly joining shadow milk TEMPORARILY obeying orders as they try to escape and recover Empty Vanilla’s memories. (cant think of a color palette)

– Extra Info!:

Empty Vanilla was given his name by none other than Black Sapphire! He found it fitting considering he doesn’t know what he is.

His personality is a mix of Pure Vanilla & Truthless Recluse. Kind and forgiving but sometimes rude and pissed (Mostly to Shadow Milk ☺️)

80% of the time you’ll find him sleeping. The 20% is him doing orders/chores

Also Re-learning both Light magic & Dark Moon magic. That wont go wrong right?

He can see WAYY better now and doesn’t need his staff! He only uses it to do magic. (which is barely)

| Golden Cheese/Lusterless Cheese

Burning Spice had TOOO much fun fighting with Golden Cheese that he shattered her souljam in the process. But even after doing that. He still continued to fight her until she somehow managed to escape. Crumbling and bleeding jam as she was holding a piece of her souljam. That had enough power to heal her but… She couldn’t reclaim it. For she has lost to Burning Spice. After that she manages to find Smoked Cheese and barely escape together… They’re now both lost in the desert trying to hide from the Spice Swarm.

Smoked Cheese is in worse condition. His arm almost falling off yet surprisingly still very strong. He still has the soulcheeses with him and vows to protect it with his life despite his dying state.

– Extra Info!:

Lusterless Cheese was a nickname given to her by the Spice Swarm after she lost to Burning Spice. She isnt really that shiny and golden now is she?. Only Smoked Cheese calls her Golden Cheese. (Also just a name so i can differentiate her from canon and this au)

Constantly gets reminded of that fight and is slowly losing hope

She took extra clothes from a nearby village due to hers being heavily damaged & dirty. And has wrapped bandages over all her scratches.

Her wings are slowly regrowing thanks to the bit essence of her souljam!

Speaking of souljam, Burning Spice is delighted by this change. Trying to find out what the shattered souljam can do.

| Dark Cacao/Soulless Cacao (CANT DECIDE ON A DESIGN JS GIMME A DAY OR TWO IT WILL BE HERE SOON-)

Kneeling down infront of Mystic Flour as he accepts his fate and sees his souljam getting taken.. Mystic Flour attempts to turn him into flour for she feels pity for him. But alas.. No matter how hard she tried, He wouldnt disolve completely. Even after giving up. Until she realized his souljam was shaking uncontrollably, Then—Poof! Shatters unknowingly and simply loses its shine. She is lead to believe this is fate telling her that Dark Cacao could be of good use to her. So she recruits him to become his servant/devoted follower. He accepts willing to find a purpose.

As for his warriors. They are lost in beast yeast, Currently having made their own campsite while trying to find their king.

– Extra Info!:

Soulless Cacao was a name given by Cloud Hatae (Yes this 💩 is alive). Just a random nickname on spot since he has changed.

He dosent use his sword anymore. Doesn’t commit violence at all

As days go by, His memories fade away bit by bit.

He loves watering the plants of the ivory pagoda. And has made good friends with the guards and even Peach Blossom.

Thats all for now- Ill add more info soon so stay tuned

[svnnyd4ys]

thinking about Bubba and Jeremiah post war because- well. Is that even Jeremiah anymore?

think about it this way:

imagine being in love.

(imagine being Bubba.)

and the man (the one that you want and love) decides to fight in the war that cost you your leg, and nearly cost you him as well.

he still has night terrors and you still have night sweats, and you wake up one night, his shirt sticking to you like a second skin, but him not in bed.

there had been a message from the president over the radio the day before. they're coming back. they're coming back, and this time you won't even be able to run from them.

he's outside, and he's enjoying what could be one of the last times either of you ever see a spherical moon.

you sit down on the decking, hours spent watching him in silence and memorising the shape of his back under the bare light, until that spherical moon becomes a spherical sun, the two of them dancing in the sky (just like you used to).

when he turns to you, he looks disappointed to see you there. i told you yesterday. i don't want to have this fight, he tells you, it's done.

the country needs him. (who doesn't?) and the next day, he leaves.

he's a good soldier, but he's better at giving orders than following them himself. you know him like the back of your hand- not just his contours, his moles, his scars but you know his mind. you've seen it work everyday for the past 20 years.

you get yourself some new cube legs (hey, they nearly took everything from you- it's only fair you get something in return) and then you follow him to the front, pretending to be a new recruit. he's struggling, obviously and now seems to be the perfect time to reveal the truth- and then? well, the pair of you ride off into battle.

it seems that you revealed yourself to him just in time.

your husband dies in your arms. your husband dies in your arms.

(the pair of you look back on it and laugh now, but sometimes when Jeremiah's asleep and he's holding you, you bury yourself a little further into his chest and only breath when he does.)

you lay him down on the soft dirt beneath you, the eyes that looked at you with love were now looking to the dying sky and the mouth that once wrapped itself around quips or around you was slack and limp.

take a moment. stop and look to that same sky. watch it with him for the final time, before letting the old you take over. it's a good way to get out of things you don't want to do. how many times have you done it? how many times have you locked yourself out of your own body to run from it?

well, it's caught up to you now.

words fail you and he failed you but your new legs don't. your horse doesn't. he takes you where you need to be, and turns out-

it's the heart of the beast.

the Cube HQ. the Cube-Within-Cubes. it sounds silly to say it, it does. but you've seen what they can do. (who they do it to) (you lost your sister and your legs in the first war, your husband and yourself in the second- in the present. it's not over yet).

your president is in there. the guy responsible for all of this. (you'll realise later that this isn't true, but right now, naming someone with the blame erases any guilt you possibly feel. it's what keeps you going.)

they've trapped him inside a cube, and he says they'll do the same to you. you'd love to see them try. he admits to being a bad president, and when you're halfway through agreeing with him-

one of them is there. it's been behind him. it's been watching you. at this point, you can hear Jeremiah telling you to hold your horses. hold your tongue, but that's not who you are. and you probably would've said more, but then the president's wife shows up.

(it's horrific, you think to yourself. his lover gets to survive, and she gets cube legs. your lover gets what? a few more scars? a final resting place? no gratitude, that's for sure.)

his wife tries her best, she tries using her new cube legs- but there's no affect on the looming cube, their queen.

she's evolved. she can walk like you (before you got your new legs) and she talks in a stilted way- but she talks.

she speaks of peace- a combining of your spherical world, her cubic world. it sounds perfect. but it's not. because the one person you want to see this, the one who's been by your side through it all is dead.

he won't be there with you.

he won't be there with you.

until she offers a deal.

a life-jelly (you can practically hear Jeremiah, see him, slyly laughing) for peace.

you can bring him back. you can bring him back and he'll be able to see the one thing he always wanted.

the president isn't as bad as you had thought, all things considered, and he lets you make the choice and he lets you bring the thing you want the most in this world back.

it is not him.

they didn't reanimate him, they didn't perform any fucked up cube magic. the queen was there and then she screamed, and she shrunk and transformed (those screams still keep you up at night, and you know they keep him up to because sometimes- sometimes you can feel him, or you'll wake up and see his face twisted into the same malformed visage as his saviour).

and then he was there.

Jeremiah.

you don't know when they started, but suddenly limp tears of relief, of happiness, of unshed grief begin to fallm and you wrap yourself around him.

he doesn't hug you back, doesn't move and his eyes- oh god, his eyes.

they're dull, and darting from face to face, place to place and- what if? what if he doesn't recognise you? what if he's still their queen, and this is just their plan? what if-

and then he practically topples you both. just like the Jeremiah you knew.

the president seems grateful, but as you four (his wife and Jeremiah become fast friends on the plane ride back) return to the main base, he doesn't say a word.

he simply turns on his heel, the new sun shining lightly down on him, the wife following after.

no more words are exchanged, but the next morning, there's a new Alexa sat on your bunk in the dorms and there's a plane ready to take you back to the farm.

Jeremiah sleeps basically the whole flight back. you don't. you sit on the seat opposite him, watching the gentle rise and fall and rise of his chest underneath the new starchy plaid shirt.

the medical team looked over him, and dismissed every single worry of yours- but he died. and then the 'life jelly' took on his form!

it's fucked!

the plane lands near your farm, secluded and away from everyone. Jeremiah clings to you like you're a life vest and he'll drown if he lets go. (chances are, he will.)

the first morning is rough. Jeremiah sleeps through it. he sleeps for the whole day and the next. you keep a silent vigil next to him, only leaving the bed to go to the bathroom, or to the kitchen (not that you can stomach much anyway, but Jeremiah's voice guides you through your routine, acting as a beacon through the fog), or to stand outside and observe the dodecahedron sun dance with the dodecahedron moon.

cool air whips at your face, and suddenly you hear him scream.

it's a horrible, shrill, gurgling sound and you nearly drop the glass of whiskey you're holding, jumping up from your seat on the porch and running up the stairs. (thank God for those cube legs, right?)

this goes on for weeks.

every night without fail, and every night it ends with him in your arms, on your chest listening to your unsteady heartbeat, or you in his, listening to his steady rythym.

a year passes, but things still haven't gone back to normal.

sometimes- Jeremiah wakes up in the corn field, staring up at the sun. he never remembers leaving the bed, and you would've felt it if he had. he speaks differently too, stuttering and stumbling through once familiar words, now acting like barbed-wire around his throat.

(he can barely say 'i love you' without it sounding like it physically pains him. your name now sounds like poison, or a broken radio when it once sounded like honey, or a record spinning on a gramophone.)

he's more difficult to hurt now.

one of the first times that he willingly left the bed, he scared you.

you were in the kitchen, the familiar friendly haze of whiskey seeping over you when his crackly voice speaks it's first proper sentence- "Alexa, play Baby Back by Future" "Now playing: MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT" "NO!!"

and you scream. the crystalline glass slips from your white knuckle grasp, and Jeremiah runs into the room, right onto the pile of shards.

you stand there, watching him. his shape is not as stern as it once was. his hands, his legs, his back- they move more. they're softer, as they dart across the glimmering glass, you notice that they barely even get a scratch.

his eyes are watching your every move, and you can feel them embedding a heated stare in your back as you turn away, grabbing the matching crystalline glass.

(they were wedding presents from his mother. the date of your marriage is engraved on them (13/01) and your names are written in cursive, perfectly and forever intertwined)

Jeremiah makes a passing comment on you having a heavy hand as you pour yourself another glass, and you say nothing. the old Jeremiah would've joined you for a drink. he would've left the shards there, hopping over them into your arms, pressing a kiss to the square line of your clenched jaw.

this is not your Jeremiah.

this will never be your Jeremiah.

you can love him as much as you want, but this is not him.

you remember- before all of this, you woke one night to find your Jeremiah staring at you, gently tracing a continuous line over your face. you had asked him why, but instead of replying with words he shushed you.

that night, his eyes had looked at you with so much love.

now, they barely look at you at all. he remembers the routine, the warmth you bring, but you don't think you can see an ounce of recognition in his eyes at all.

he does this because it feels right, because you've stayed by his side where a weaker man would've run. and maybe, there is some semblance of your Jeremiah still in there. maybe that's why he does these things, because the essence of your love is still there.

for a moment, you stand there, watching as he places the pieces of shattered glass on the counter top, neither of you speaking another word.

wordlessly, you leave this man and his soft sides and raspy voice in the cold heat of the kitchen, grabbing your whiskey on the way out. he doesn't follow after you, his eyes transfixed on the circular wall clock hanging just past your head.

you stand in the cornfield that Jeremiah proposed to you in.

he promised to stay safe and to keep you safe, as long as the two of you were together and even if (God forbid) the two of you weren't, but over the past year- the whiskey and the vodka and the gin have all been more of a safety net than him.

they don't have his arms, or his smile, but they make it easier to pretend that he still has those things.

you don't know how long you're out there, but the sun has risen and set and risen again, so you go back inside.

Jeremiah isn't there. the kitchen is clean, but Jeremiah isn't there and you whip your head around, desperation grasping at your neck like a dog's teeth.

dancing in the light of the kitchen table, is the glass you dropped from last night, and next to it, a small tube of superglue, and it's lid, the glue slowly seeping out of it.

holding the glass up with shaking hands, you can see its chips, its imperfections- but it's still nice.

you slowly creep into the living room, and Jeremiah is asleep on the blue couch. you had insisted on buying it when you first moved in together, but he'd hated it. he hated a lot of things that you'd loved, but he loved seeing you happy. you stand there, considering things for a minute, before grabbing a blanket that had been thrown over a nearby chair and covering him with it.

he doesn't stir, chest barely rising and falling but you can barely stand to look at the man claiming to be your Jeremiah anymore.

[ripdragonbeans]

Love In The Darkest Of Places // modern!Aemond x Reader

Chapter 9: Healing is a Process

Summary: Focusing on bringing Alys down, you and Aemond get caught up in the rush of it all, causing you two to burn out. What better way to help that than therapy?

A/N: Love my @exitpursuedbyavulcan lol

Masterlist

Chapter 8 // Chapter 10

Curled up next to Aemond, you gently played with his beautiful long hair as you both faced the computer monitor. Every time either of you looked at Aemond’s draft to the head of the university, you would freeze. Both of you wanted Alys out of your lives, out of the university, so why were you hesitating?

“We should gather more evidence if we can,” you offered. “Maybe find some of the other guys she's gone after?”

Aemond shook his head. “I doubt any of them would want to call her out. They probably didn't even realize she was manipulating them. I didn't see it until I talked to you.” He sighed. “She's good at this game.”

“Are you going to send the report anonymously?” It was the first time you asked him.

“I'll send the report anonymously, but I'm not going to erase my name from the texts. They need to see every step she does, including calling me by my name.” He took a breath. “But if you want me to go completely anonymous, I will, and I understand. I don’t mind pulling myself through the mud, but I don’t want you to get dragged as well.”

You moved to sit in Aemond’s lap and faced him. Holding his gaze, you told him, “I am never leaving you again. You go through hell, I go through hell. Together forever.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. I'm not going to hide.”

Moving off his lap, you stayed close and watched as he began typing vigorously. 

To whom it may concern, he typed. I write to you to inform you that one of your staff members, Professor Alys Rivers, has engaged in inappropriate conduct with students. Attached to this email are screenshots of conversations between her and me, Aemond Targaryen. 

I trust that appropriate action will be taken in this matter, and I am happy to cooperate with any further investigation you require.

Sincerely, 

Aemond Targaryen

Taking a big breath, Aemond sent the email. When he looked to you, you gave him a reassuring smile, took his hand, brought it up to your lips, and gently kissed the back of it. 

“I'm so proud of you,” you whispered. “She will not get away with this, not anymore.” As you looked at him, you noticed how exhausted he looked. You knew it must have taken a lot out of him. It was one thing to admit all that has happened to you, but to go public with it is another story. “Come on,” you tugged on his hand as you stood up. “Let's go somewhere.”

As you pulled up to the building and got out of the car you gave Aemond a small smile. 

“The library?” He asked.

“You always feel better after you've been to the library,” you shrugged. “So I figured why not take a quick trip.”

Aemond pulled you into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

When you broke away from the hug, you took his hand and pulled him over to the library, not that he needed any goading; you just enjoyed pulling him around sometimes. As you entered the library the smell of books immediately surrounded you. It was a warm and cozy feeling. Hand in hand, you wandered the isles of many books until you each found a few to borrow for the month. Before checking out, however, you found yourself in a cozy alcove upstairs where the two of you could begin reading one of your books.

The quietness of the library was a welcome reprieve from the loud noise going on in your head and you figured it was the same with Aemond. With so much going on in life it was important to you that you and Aemond both find ways to settle all that noise and take a breather every now and then.

You closed your book, a good fourth in already. “Ready to head out?” you whispered to Aemond.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” he closed his book. When he stood up from the very pillowed chair he stretched his arms high, revealing a little bit of skin as he did so.

You smiled seeing that little glimpse of his stomach. Instead of being a menace, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing your face against his body, you inhaled his scent and took the moment in. For the first time in a while, you and Aemond were at peace. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around you. He tilted your head up by lifting your chin and pressed his forehead against yours. “This is nice,” he said quietly.

You murmured your agreement.

Within the peace and quiet of the library, you and Aemond were both able to find yourselves again and plant your feet well into the ground again.

“How do you feel about therapy?” you asked him the next day. It had been on your mind for a while, and you thought it would be good for both of you. You fixed your breakfast as you waited for his answer.

“Like talking to someone about everything?” Aemond paused. “It's crossed my mind a few times, yeah.”

Crossing across to the couch, you sat down next to him. “I think it would be a good idea,” you offered. “Maybe couples counseling, too.”

Aemond turned to you quickly. “Do you think we need help? I can do better. We can work it out.” His eye widened in horror.

“No, Aemond, we're okay,” you reassured him, then shrugged. “I just think it would be healthy for us, especially after all that's happened.” 

“I think therapy is a good idea,” he said after a while. “I still haven't fully comprehended everything that's happened and,” Aemond sighed, “I want to feel better. I want to be better, for you and for me.”

“Then let's do it.” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek. “Couples therapy it is. Do you want to go on your own, too?”

“I think I will. It'll probably be for the best.”

You smiled. “I agree.” Wrapping your arms around him, you held Aemond close to you—close to your heart. You would never let him go, not anymore, and you would never let someone make him feel so inferior ever again.

The waiting room in the therapy center was painted a dull brown, creating a neutral-esque environment. It was all brown. Different shades of brown. The chairs and benches, however, weren’t brown; they were black. It was a very boring sitting room, you thought, but it was better than being overstimulating.

As you sat with Aemond, you noticed he was bouncing his leg. “Nervous?” 

Aemond continued to bounce his leg. “On edge, I would say.”

On this day, Aemond donned his usual eye patch and pulled his hair up in a bun. He was dressed casually, but being Aemond, he looked like he had an important interview to attend.

You placed a hand on his knee. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You looked around. There was no one else in the waiting room, and granted, it was later in the day as well. After a few minutes of silence, a door opened, and a man called out your name and Aemond’s. As you two stood up, Aemond nervously wiped his hands on his pants. Instinctively, you reached out and took his hand.

“We'll be right over here,” said the man you assumed to be the therapist. “Sit anywhere you like, and please make yourselves comfortable.” He smiled warmly before going behind his desk. “Hello, I will be your therapist, Dr. Simon Strong. A lot goes into this, so let's start at the very beginning. How did you two meet?”

Aemond, hesitant, didn't say anything, so you took it upon yourself to begin the conversation. 

“We met when we were children. Our mothers were, emphasis on “were,” close, and when they drifted apart, we stayed friends. We were neighbors, actually.”

“And how did that help build your relationship?” Dr. Strong asked.

“It brought us closer together,” you shrugged.

“She was my only friend,” Aemond said carefully. “She would visit a lot and wasn't scared of my brother or off-put by my sister, like some other people who had tried to be friends with me.”

Dr. Strong raised his eyebrows. “Your only friend?”

Aemond shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I didn't have many friends growing up; it was more of just her and my siblings.” He looked at you. “But she's the best person that's ever walked into my life, and for that, I'm grateful.”

The therapist nodded. “Now, I would like you two to tell me why you want to do couple's therapy.”

You answered without hesitation. “We want to have a healthy relationship.”

“I had an …issue with a past relationship, and I don't want that again,” Aemond added.

Dr. Simon Strong leaned forward with interest. “Ah. We’ll get that later. Here is my question: has your relationship always been romantic?

You shook your head and laughed, “No, it was never like that. We were children; we didn’t know what love was. We knew we cared about each other, but that was it.” You tried to push away some of your very first feelings for him.

“I think I was always in love with you,” whispered Aemond.

“Aemond…” you paused to take a breath. “Now that I think about it, I think I was always in love with you, too.” You turned to Dr. Strong. “I think we both fell in love early on but didn’t quite know what it was,” you cleared up.

“That’s fair. Many do not understand the deep and abstract concept of love outside of caring for others when they are young children.”

“All I knew then is that I cared about her. There wasn’t exactly any love between my mother and father,” Aemond said. “I had no real example of what love was supposed to look like.”

“And there is no one-fits-all all when it comes to love,” Dr. Strong added. “Every couple looks different. What matters is that both parties are happy and healthy. Are there any moments in your history as children that stick out to you?”

“When I was sick once he brought me soup,” you offered. “It wasn’t much, it was very simple, but I remember feeling cared for.”

Aemond cocked his head to the side. “I remember that. You were running a high fever and were suffering from body chills.” He looked at you. “I knew even then I wanted to take care of you. I didn’t like it when you got sick or hurt, but I’m glad you always came to us when something happened.”

“It wasn’t like I could go to my mother or father,” you scoffed. Turning to Dr. Strong, you explained to him, “My family was never the most supportive of me. I know for a fact they never wanted me, and they weren’t eager to hide it.”

“That must have been very traumatic for you,” Dr. Strong replied.

You shrugged. “It’s something I grew up with. It’s more like background noise at this point.”

“It still follows you?��

“I guess it kinda hangs over me.”

“I see…” Dr. Strong scribbled something down. “What about you, Aemond? How is your relationship with your family?”

“My birth dad is nonexistent. I don’t want him around. My mother and my siblings care about me, and I care about them. I know there is love and support between us all.”

Dr. Strong addressed both you and Aemond with his next question. “Have either of you had previous relationships?”

Silence enveloped the room. 

“Not me,” you said, breaking the silence. Well, Aemond thought I was in a relationship with someone else, but I wasn’t.”

Dr. Strong straightened his back. “Oh?”

“It was this double date she and I were practically forced into when we were in high school,” Aemond explained. “We didn’t go on the double date as a couple but as a part of the other’s date. It was a mess. I got jealous, and I tried to make her jealous and it ended up with both of us getting hurt.”

“Has that event shaped how you two are now as a couple?”

“Not that one specifically, but…” you trailed off to let Aemond bring her up. She had to be talked about. She was the elephant in the room.

“My professor. One of my university professors coerced me into a relationship with her,” said Aemond. His face had gone blank and devoid of emotion.

“Was there anything that led you to be in a relationship with this person? From what you have told me, the two of you are very close.”

You hesitated. “I told him I couldn’t be with him. We kissed, a heat of the moment thing, and I freaked out and ran away and told him I couldn’t let myself be with him.”

“And how did that make you feel, Aemond?”

“I was… heartbroken, I guess. I didn’t know what to do.”

“And how did this professor coerce you into a relationship?”

“She flirted with me. A lot, actually.”

Hearing this made your blood boil but you kept your anger and jealousy down to let Aemond tell his story.

“She would call me to her office, and we would talk. She would make leading comments and ask questions bordering on inappropriate. At first, I hated it, but then I started to want that; that feeling of someone wanting me.”

Your heart dropped as though it was attached to a rock and then thrown into a lake to drown.

“The day she kissed me…I felt wanted, and that’s what I was looking for, what I so desperately needed.” Aemond turned to you. “I never initiated any of our intimate moments, including kisses or hugs. Everything was started by her.” He turned back to Dr. Strong. “I was just going through the motions. There was maybe a time I felt like I actually cared for her; I did care for her in a way, but not in the way I care about my…” he trailed off and looked back at you. “You. I never cared for her the same way I care for you. Alys was all physical, not even always wanted. I let her do whatever to me just so I could feel like I was wanted by someone.”

Tears were streaming down your face. “Oh, Aemond, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged off the apology. “It was my choice to follow her and I regret it every day.”

“Well,” Dr. Strong started, “that is certainly a lot to hop into.” He made sure to look at both of you. “You did really well, you both did. You should be proud of yourselves for opening up not just to me, but to each other. I can tell you two care about each other a lot and want this to work. That’s good.”

“Do you have any suggestions for us as a couple?” you asked.

“As a couple, not really. I do encourage you to continue talking openly with each other. That does wonders in a relationship. Communication is key. Individually,” Dr. Strong looked at you, “you should try reaching out to your family, maybe they’ve grown, maybe not. If you would not like to reach out to them, that is up to you, but I think you may find some closure. As for you, Aemond,” he turned to face him, “I would consider a companion to have around when your significant other is unable to be with you. A dog, perhaps? A cat is easy to take care of, not a fish, someone you could find comfort in when things are too hard. Both of you taking care of an animal would be beneficial to you as a couple as well.”

The two of you nodded. 

As the session went on, Aemond talked about Alys and their relationship and how it has formed who he was now. Hearing him talk about her made you uncomfortable but hearing how uncomfortable she made him made you mad.You thought back to the first time Aemond had told you about Alys and when you had caught them in the hallway. It was her that initiated it; not him. It made you feel better, in a way, but you were still not a fan of it. But then he had seemed so…besotted with her. Knowing now that it had been more infatuation and physical than anything helped how you felt about the whole situation. However, it had you wondering about the dinner you had with them as well. Aemond seemed so out of it and now you knew why. 

During the session, you touched on your family a bit more and how they treated you and how that shaped who you were now. It was…difficult to talk about them. When you had your last conversation with Jace you thought that would be the last of it. That may not be the case anymore. 

 Aemond began speaking. “There… there is one other thing I’d like to talk about before leaving: my eye.”

“Ah, yes, I was wondering if you were going to bring it up. What would you like to say about it.”

“I won’t give all the gruesome details, but if anyone’s ever been there for me, it’s her.” Aemond reached out and grabbed your hand. “She was the one who gave me the sapphire in my eye, actually.”

“I have a matching necklace,” you added.

“If it weren’t for her always being there for me, I honestly don’t know where I would be now. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

You squeezed Aemond’s hand and looked at him. “I don’t know where I’d be, either, Aemond.”

When you and Aemond finally broke your gaze and looked back at Dr. Simon Strong, you found him smiling at the pair of you. “You two will do well in therapy. You have already done a good job of communicating and this is only the first session. We’ll see you in a week? I normally see my patients every week and then we slowly start to add more and more time in between sessions.”

“Yeah, in a week is good,” you said.

“Wonderful,” Dr. Simon Strong smiled at you. “Now it is time for Aemond’s session by himself. You can wait in the waiting room.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Strong,” you shook his hand and then turned to give Aemond a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

The drive back to Aemond’s apartment after the therapy sessions that day was quiet, but in a good way. Both of you have been carrying baggage and now that it was all out in the open the air felt cleaner. You glanced at Aemond through your peripheral vision and smiled. He was gazing out the window.

“Everything all right?” you asked him.

Your question apparently startled him. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

“We did a lot today. I’m proud of us but I’m mostly proud of you, Aemond.”

He let out a breath that sounded like a chuckle. “I’m glad I can make you proud, my dear.”

“Oh? Have we graduated to pet names now?” You said with a joking edge knowing that using pet names and nicknames were a bit of a sore spot for him after her.

Aemond took a beat. “Yeah, I think we have.” He moved a hand onto your thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I’m honored to have you as mine, my love.”

If you could have, you would have pulled over to the side of the road and kissed him right then and there, but you couldn’t. Instead, without taking your eyes off the road, you brought his hand to your lips and gently brushed them against his knuckle. “As am I.”

Despite living with Helaena, you found yourself spending more and more time with Aemond. A few days later, you found yourself curled against Aemond’s body in bed. While you were awake, Aemond was softly snoring, still asleep. His arm was draped around you and held you close, your back pressed against his stomach. You turned to look at him and take in his beauty. With his eyepatch discarded on the bedside table, his sapphire shined in the morning light. His long hair was sprawled out on his pillow as his head was turned towards you, as though the last thing he saw before falling asleep was you. Smiling to yourself, you basked in the moment. It was peaceful.

After a few minutes of beautiful silence, you gently roused Aemond from his sleep. “Wake up, my dear.”

Aemond mumbled something and simply pulled you closer, burying his 

“Aemond,” you groaned, “it's time to get up.”

“It’s too early.”

“No, it's not. Come on, let's get going.”

“Fine,” said Aemond, dragging out the word.

You finally shimmied out of his grasp and sat up in bed. Gently pulling up Aemond to a sitting position, you laughed as he pretended to resist you. Once you got him sitting up, he immediately fell on top of you, completely limp.

“Help, I've fallen and I can't get up,” he said half heartedly.

You had to wiggle him off of you to be able to get off the bed. When you were able to actually get up, Aemond relented and did so as well. With his hair all messy, he muttered something about being tired then flipped his hair out of his face. Lumbering over to his closet he pulled out his clothes for the day. You watched him as he changed, unmoved from your spot in the room. As if he felt your eyes on him he turned around. 

“Like what you see?” he playfully asked.

You took a few steps closer to him. “Of course I do, my love.”

Aemond hummed contently as you hugged him. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “It’s time for you to change out of your pajamas as well.”

“What? You don’t like my shorts paired with one of your shirts?” you teased.

“Honestly, I love it, but where we’re going may require a change of clothes,” Aemond said.

With his words, you remembered the goal of the day. You were going to begin the process of adopting a dog.

[slcmml]

charlie & reader. fluff, slightly suggestive.

★ charlie is usually fine being away for work—he’s used to traveling, used to filming for days at a time—but being away from you? suddenly, it’s the worst thing in the world.

★ the moment he gets to cali for chuckle sandwich recording, his phone is practically glued to his hand. texting you between takes, sending voice memos, calling when he has even five spare minutes.

★ you’re just as bad. even though you’re busy with your own work, you keep checking your phone, sending him messages like:

you: i miss u so much baby :(

charlie: miss u more, babe <3 i hate it here w/o u

you: don’t let schlatt bully u too much lol

charlie: too late. he said my hair looks stupid.

you: gaslight him into thinking he’s bald.

charlie: ur so smart. this is why i love u.

★ facetime calls at night where both of you are half-asleep, but neither of you want to hang up first.

★ “just stay on the phone,” charlie mumbles, voice thick with sleep. “i don’t care if you’re quiet, just wanna feel like ‘m with you.”

★ when you finally get time to call during the day, charlie’s grinning like an idiot the second your face pops up on his screen. “holy shit, you’re even prettier than i remember,” he teases, making you roll your eyes.

★ you both send each other the dumbest updates. blurry selfies, random thoughts, voice messages that are just exaggerated sighs of longing.

you: wish i could be in ur arms rn.

charlie: wish i could kiss ur dumb face.

you: wish i could hold ur hand and rub circles into ur palm like u like.

charlie: wish i could bite u. nom nom.

you: BABE.

charlie: morning, baby. how’d you sleep?

you: not great. bed feels weird without you.

charlie: mine too. i kept reaching out for you last night :(

you: we are so pathetic.

charlie: mhm. now gimme a kiss.

you: mwah.

charlie: not enough. i need like. ten.

you: mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah. <3

charlie: much better. i’ll be thinking about that all day.

charlie: wish i could burrow into ur skin and live there forever.

you: what the fuck.

charlie: don’t act like u wouldn’t let me.

you: no i absolutely would.

charlie: see? we’re the same.

charlie: i miss u so bad i might start chewing on furniture.

you: wish that was me.

charlie: chewing on furniture?

you: no, in ur mouth.

charlie: oh my god.

★ if either of you have a bad day, the other immediately drops everything to comfort them over the phone. charlie’s voice is soft, sweet, telling you how much he loves you, how proud he is of you, how he wishes he could hold you.

★ sometimes you both get really freaky over text but it’s either the most unserious conversation ever or it’s the neediest conversation ever?

charlie: [selfie]

you: oh my fucking god u are so handsome im gonna jerk it so hard tonight

charlie: oh word? u better bc im thinking abt u rn and i might just bust it down sensually in ur honor

you: i need u so bad rn :(

charlie: yeahh? what do u need baby ill do my best to please u <3

you: [selfie]

charlie: gonna go absolutely feral in the bathroom thinking abt this

you: dont threaten me w a good time

★ the moment he’s done with recording and you’re done with work, the countdown begins.

charlie: TWO MORE DAYS BABY I’M GONNA KISS U SO HARD WHEN I SEE U

you: not if i kiss u first, been waiting all week for that shit

★ when you’re finally back together? oh, you’re not leaving each other’s side for at least a week. fully attached at the hip, constantly touching, making up for every second apart.

© slcmml

[batboysanonymous]

In the Back of My Mind

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: She was his past, and you were his present—but in the quiet moments, when his gaze lingered too long or his touch felt too careful, you couldn't shake the feeling that some ghosts never truly leave.

Based on the song: WILDFLOWER by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

Things fall apart And time breaks your heart I wasn't there, but I know She was your girl You showed her the world But fell out of love and you both let go

There were nights when you could almost forget. When Rhysand’s hands mapped every inch of your skin with reverence, when his laughter echoed through the town house, dark and intoxicating, filling the space between your ribs with warmth. Nights when his love wrapped around you like the starlit sky, infinite, undeniable.

But then there were nights like this.

You weren’t sure what triggered it. Maybe it was the way he had hesitated when he mentioned Velaris earlier, his lips barely forming the name before his voice tapered off like he had suddenly lost the words. Maybe it was the way his fingers had brushed over a certain page in a book—a page you hadn’t seen, but something in his expression had shifted, just for a second.

Or maybe it was the fact that, no matter how many times he told you he loved you, a whisper of doubt always lingered in the back of your mind.

She had been here first. Feyre.

And you were the one who came after.

She was cryin’ on my shoulder All I could do was hold her Only made us closer until July Now, I know that you love me You don't need to remind me I should put it all behind me, shouldn't I?

You curled your fingers around the edge of the silk sheets, your back pressed against the headboard as Rhys sat on the other side of the bed, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You should have left it alone. He had been nothing but patient with you, had never once made you feel like you were anything less than his equal. His mate.

But the words clawed their way out of your throat before you could stop them.

“Do you ever think about her?”

Rhys stilled. His breathing barely changed, but you felt it. The shift in his energy, the careful way he lifted his gaze to meet yours. The High Lord of the Night Court, with all his power, all his control—hesitating.

You swallowed, wishing you could take it back. But the damage was already done.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw before answering. “Y/n—”

“Just tell me.” Your voice was quieter than you intended, but it didn’t waver. “I don’t need you to lie to me, Rhys.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, finally, “Yes.”

The word landed like a weight in your chest.

“I see her in the back of my mind sometimes,” he admitted. “Not because I love her. Not because I wish things were different. But because…” His voice softened. “She was a part of me. For a long time.”

You nodded, lips pressed together, ignoring the way your throat burned. “I know.”

Well, good things don't last And life moves so fast I'd never ask who was better 'Cause she couldn't be More different from me Happy and free in leather

Feyre was everything you weren’t. She had been a warrior, a queen in her own right. A beacon of strength and fire. You… you weren’t sure what you were. A woman in love? A second love?

You pulled the blankets tighter around yourself. “Do you think about what it would’ve been like if things had worked out?”

Rhys turned then, fully facing you. His expression was unreadable, shadows flickering in the violet depths of his eyes. “No.”

You exhaled. “You don’t have to—”

“I don’t.” His voice was firm. “Because things didn’t work out. And they weren’t supposed to.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “But you were meant to be mates.”

His silence was deafening.

You already knew what he was thinking. The bond between mates was rare—rare and sacred. And yet, here you were, bound to him, despite the one he had once shared with Feyre.

What did that mean?

You say no one knows you so well But every time you touch me, I just wonder how she felt Valentine's Day, cryin’ in the hotel I know you didn't mean to hurt me, so I kept it to myself

The worst part wasn’t the memories he had. It was the ones you didn’t.

It was the fact that he had once known her body as well as he knew yours. That his fingers had once traced someone else’s lips, his voice had once whispered devotion to someone else in the dark. That there were moments—small, seemingly insignificant moments—where you wondered if she had ever felt the same way you did now.

You thought about the way he held you at night, the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the way he kissed you like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. Had he held her that way? Had he ever made her feel like she was his universe?

You hated yourself for wondering.

Rhys moved closer then, his palm cupping your cheek. “I know what you’re thinking.”

You forced a laugh. “Doubt it.”

“I do.” His thumb traced a slow line along your jaw. “You’re wondering if you were the second choice.”

The words sent a sharp ache through your ribs. You hadn’t meant to be so transparent.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You weren’t.”

You swallowed. “Rhys…”

“I loved her,” he admitted, voice low. “But I love you differently. I love you more.”

You blinked up at him, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

“Feyre and I…” He sighed. “We were never meant to last. We held onto something that had already faded, because we were too afraid to admit that we had outgrown each other.” His fingers brushed against your collarbone. “But you? You are my future. You are the one I wake up for, the one I fight for, the one I dream of.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“I need you to believe that,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “Because I do.”

And I wonder Do you see her in the back of your mind in my eyes?

You inhaled shakily, letting his warmth sink into you, letting his words settle into the cracks of your doubts.

Maybe she would always exist in the back of his mind, just as the people you had loved and lost existed in yours. Maybe there would always be echoes of the past.

But they did not define the present.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

[moonlitcelestial]

Lipstick Stains - Yuhno

Valentines Day Special

W/C ~3,194

☽ Masterlist ☾

♡ Lipstick Stains Masterlist ♡

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez or Atiny. I will be attempting to keep it as gender neutral as possible but it will lean toward she/her pronouns. 

Thanks for reading <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

You and Yuhno had been dating for about a year before the Wanteez episodes started coming out. That being said you knew all of the episodes like the back of your hand because you got to be there behind the scenes for some of them (and you may have watched them while the boys were on tour for comfort). The one they were currently filming was the Drunkteez episode. You were staying back behind the camera while the boys were having lots of fun and enjoying their time. You had been recruited to help get some of the boys home because they listened to you better than the managers sometimes. Especially since you can control the twin towers with just a look, which can be terrifying.

They had just started their screaming match and you watched in amusement as Yuhno, Wooyoung and Seonghwa started in on their shit. When Woo turned very quickly to Yuhno, which surprised you with how tipsy he was, he basically kissed your boyfriend. You covered your mouth to hide a laugh so they could use this bit in the episode. As the whole ordeal continued you saw Woo grab him and plant a huge kiss on his cheek. He looked directly at you with the goofiest look of shock you had ever seen on his face. You raised your eyebrows and couldn’t help but to let out a little giggle. After he recovered from the shock and kept going with the shenanigans you stepped away to laugh to yourself. The staff was also trying very hard behind the cameras to hold it together too. These boys were something else.

Fast forward a little while you were helping the boys into the photo booth to take the pictures to commemorate their time. Yuhno and Mingi were both hanging on you because you get one you get the other. While you knew that the two of them were nowhere near as gone as some of them you let them because you loved the twin towers. When it was their turn you stepped back and laughed at San who waddled over with his loaf of bread cradled to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. He swayed and you steadied him and helped him sit in the booth. Once he got his bearings he quickly got in behind the other two and started singing. You could tell he was going to have a massive hangover the next day. Once they finished their pictures you helped all of them out of the booth. You were in charge of Mingi and Yuhno while the managers handled the other six. You let them lean on you out to your car, thankfully it was big enough to fit the both of them into the back seat. You brought them to your house where you could keep an eye on them, Mingi basically had a room there anyway. You smiled at their chattering in the backseat. Oh how you loved these boys.

Timeskip

It was a tradition of yours and Yuhno’s to watch the new Wanteez episodes that came out. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the Wooyoung incident. While he could remember most of what happened it was fuzzy for him. He had just gotten back from the studio and was taking a shower while you prepared the snacks for your marathon. You had decided to wait until the whole saga came out so you could binge the episodes.

Once he got out and made himself comfortable shoulder to shoulder with you, you played the episode. Throughout the entire thing you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye. Most of the time his face was covered with his eyes peeking out from between his fingers out of embarrassment. Once you got to the Wooyoung incident you died of laughter. You could still clearly see the face even before you watched the episode. He wailed and hid his face on your shoulder. He was grumbling incoherently while rubbing his forehead back and forth on your shoulder. You could tell he was absolutely flabbergasted and embarrassed just by the red tinge on his ears.

You paused the show and turned a little to look at him hiding in your shoulder. “You know when that happened you looked directly at me with that face. It was so entertaining and I had to walk away after to go collect myself. The staff were even having a hard time keeping it together, some of them were trying so hard and they almost lost it with your look of confusion.”

He groaned and grumbled, "I hate that you have this to blackmail me with.” You let out a loud laugh and started petting his hair which made him melt further into you. You knew he was a sucker for when you played with his hair. You turned to put your back against the cushions, taking Yuyu with you as you reclined to lay down. His ear was directly over your heart, one of his favorite cuddling positions. Making sure he was content you pushed play to finish out the episodes.

It was about a week after your Drunkteez marathon when you found a trend that you wanted to do with Yuhno. He was sitting in his gaming chair in front of his computer involved in a game with some of the boys. You loved to watch him play, especially after he made sure you had a comfy place to be when he was in here. You giggled quietly getting up to go start your plan. You knew he was one to stay involved in the game and not be aware of his surroundings whatsoever. Once he had on his headset the real world was only a figment of his imagination. It was cute really, especially when he was speaking in what you could only describe as gibberish after he died in his game, which was not very often. He generally would turn around to look at you in exasperation after it would happen.

You made it to the bathroom and began to dig around in your lipstick bag for your favorite cherry red lipstick. You snickered as you applied a very thick coat of it so you could leave the maximum amount of kisses on him before running out. Once you were satisfied with the amount you made your way back to the gaming room. You silently grabbed your phone, started recording and said quietly “I'm trying the lipstick kiss trend on my very unsuspecting man. He is blissfully unaware anything is about to happen.” You set the phone down on your respective gaming setup and made sure you could see Yuhno in the shot before sauntering over to him. You took a second to appreciate his beautiful bare face. He was the most spectacular man you had ever seen. You smiled to yourself before placing a kiss on his temple, he glanced at you with a quick smile before returning to the heat of his game. You stepped over to the other side of him and placed another kiss on the apple of his cheek. You could see the giant grin on his face, he always loved your affection, especially your kisses. He made it to a semi safe place and lifted his arm for you to slide onto his lap without looking away from the screen. This was a practiced move you both perfected through the years, he didn't even really look at you anymore because he was so involved most of the time. Which did not bug you in the slightest, you knew how it was when it came to gaming, especially the PVP games. You placed a kiss right under his jaw and continued to pepper kisses all over his face. He giggled airily at your assault. He was so involved in his game that he didn't even notice the red on your lips. Once you were satisfied with all of the kisses on his face you leaned into the junction of his shoulder and neck placing one more kiss on his skin. A few minutes later he said his goodbyes to the boys and turned to look at you fully. He gave you the biggest grin and said “hi jagi, how are you?” His hands ran up and down your sides as he spoke.

“I'm great, how was gaming with the boys?” It was then that he noticed the smudge of red on your lips. He cocked his head to the side and took you in further. Your smile was large and the red definitely was not there when he started. Especially that red he knew you used only for work sometimes and special occasions, among other things. He squinted at you, you decided it was then that you wanted to get up. He let you go and grabbed his phone that was sitting to his right as you walked over to yours to grab it to get a closer video of his reaction. He turned on the camera and let out a comical gasp as he whipped around to look at you. He had the same look you first saw after Wooyoung kissed his cheek on his face. You busted into immediate laughter, your phone shaking as you covered the lower half of your face with your other hand.

“Jagi, what's this?” He asked with a smirk pointing at his lipstick stained face.

“It's all of my love for you!” You giggled out, setting your phone down while still recording. He stood up to his full height and you looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling. Even if you were on the taller side he towered over you. He grabbed your face and kissed you gently making sure to linger just long enough to have the red on his lips. Once he was satisfied with the kiss he turned to look at your phone.

“You got that all on video didn't you?” He said with a small sigh, You could tell he wasn't actually mad. You nodded, smiling and grabbed your phone making sure to turn off the recording.

“Can we take pictures? You're too cute and I am in need of a new phone background.” You asked with pleading eyes that you knew he couldn't resist.

He let out an over exaggerated sigh and grabbed his phone, out of the two of you he was the better picture taker and you both knew it. He held up the phone and made the face of surprise as you kissed his cheek. He snapped the picture quickly. He knew this one would be your most prized possession. He smiled as you held your lips to his cheek just a little longer, he snapped another picture. You pulled away from his face and looked at him smiling, he only had a split second to capture your genuine smile so he took the quickest picture he had ever taken. You hadn't even noticed. He set his phone down and propped it up, setting the timer. He gently grabbed your face and kissed you. His hands took up most of your cheeks and his fingertips rested on your neck. You closed your eyes and leaned up into the kiss, putting your hands on his chest lightly grabbing his shirt. He told you once in a sleepy stupor that this was his favorite way of kissing you. Stating that he loved being able to hold his whole world in his hands when you kissed. You heard the shutter go off but he decided that he wanted the kiss to last just a little longer. He poured all of his love into the kiss. Once he was done you opened your eyes and watched him as he put his forehead against yours smiling softly with his eyes closed. When he opened them his dark eyes sparkled with love.

“I love you, jagi. So much, even when you pull things like this.”

“I love you too, Yuyu. Especially because you let me pull things like this.” You smiled and put your hand on top of his on your cheek. “Let's go get you cleaned up and then we can look at the pictures.”

He nodded and took your hand leading you to the bathroom. Once you got there he leaned against the countertop. You stepped between his legs and started gently wiping the red off of his face and neck. He rested his hands on your hips and closed his eyes leaning toward you. You loved moments like this. The domesticality of it all made you smile softly. Not many people got to see this part of him, you, the boys, and his family being the entirety of the list. You spent the rest of the day cuddled on the couch watching some of your favorite movies.

Timeskip

The boys had been recording more and more preparing for their newest album. You had made a point of calling Yuhno when you went to lunch, texting him to make sure that it was okay first earlier that morning. You sat down at your house for lunch and facetimed him. It took a few rings for someone to pick up.

“Hi Y/n-nie you're on speaker with me, Hongjoong hyung, Wooyo, and Jongho. Yuhno is in the booth currently finishing up, we are a little behind schedule. While we wait for him, you want to tell me about the contact photo he has for you? I've never seen that picture before and he usually sends me all of them.” You peaked at the phone over your bowl to see Mingi on the screen, Jongho and Wooyoung popping onto the screen with curiosity in their gazes.

You smiled and waved at the screen “Hi Mings, Wooyu, Joongie, and Jjong. What picture are you talking about?” you inquired taking a bite of left overs.

“The one where his face is covered in red lips,” Wooyoung said with a laugh like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You looked at your phone in surprise, you knew that you set one as your background but you hadn't expected him to set it as his or as your contact picture.

You took a second to process what he said and began laughing nervously. You could feel your face heat up. “Oh uh that? It was a prank I pulled on him and I guess he set one of the pictures as my contact photo. Which one is it?”

“It's the one where you are looking at him like he hung the stars and the moon,” Jongho said.

“Oh, I haven't seen that one, he may have just kept one for himself. Want to see the video I took of the prank?” You asked, turning the conversation in another direction. You would have to interrogate Yuhno when he got home. Wooyoung snatched the phone from Mingi and said yes very loudly.

You grabbed your phone from its spot on the table and sent the video to Yuhno’s phone. You edited it to have a timelapse after you finished kissing him because it was about a ten (10) minute video originally. He had the original video but wanted the edited version as well. You kept forgetting to send him this version so it was the perfect opportunity. The boys all watched in wrapped attention. You giggled at the varying expressions of shock on all of their faces. They started snickering after muttering amongst themselves. Woo even made Joong take a break to see the video, you waved shyly at him as he greeted you. The captain smiled at the video and waved to you before he put his headset back on to finish up with Yuhno.

Here comes the teasing.

“So he didn't even notice that you were doing this to him? He is so oblivious to everything.” Jongho said teasingly.

“Y’know my partner would not have been able to get away with that.” Wooyoung said.

“Ah yes because you're hyper aware of everything that happens you crazy black cat.” you teased. He glared at you and got extremely close to the camera.

“Yah, what are you doing with my phone? Give it here.” Yuhno said, marching over to Woo. You snickered as the phone changed hands. You were not entirely sure that he noticed it was a video call.

“We were just talking to Y/n-nie about your contact picture for them, and they showed us the video they took of you.” Wooyoung said, wiggling his eyebrows. You could feel the glare of Yuhno from where you sat at home before you saw it. He sat on a chair opposite Mingi, setting his phone down on the table.

“Yuyu I can feel and see that glare from here.” You said, he jumped not expecting you to be sounding from the phone he had set on the table.

He grabbed the phone and said “Jagi, I didn't realize you were still on the phone.” They all busted into laughter at his obliviousness. His dark boba eyes were wide and now focused on you. You waved and blew him a kiss. You could see the heat creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Told you so,” Jongho said with a smirk. You could hear Mingi’s muffled huffing laughter and Wooyoung’s screech in the background. Even Hongjoong was laughing in the background. You knew he heard everything, especially with these four in the studio.

“I never denied that fact,” you stated through the phone. Laughing with the rest of them. He was so utterly lost.

“So love, I learned that there is a secret picture somewhere that I don't have of you. Want to tell me what that's about?” The boys surrounding him ooooed like school children. You laughed at his bewildered expression.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” He muttered glaring at all four of his brothers. He was scanning their faces trying to see who spilled that secret to you.

“Okay, we can play it that way,” you came up with a devious plan on the spot. You wanted a little bit of revenge after the embarrassment he unknowingly put you through. You grabbed your phone and sent your favorite picture to the large group chat you had with all of the members. The one of him covered in lipstick looking bewildered while you kissed his cheek. All of their phones pinged and you could hear the large amount of laughter that erupted from the boys in the room. They were getting increasingly louder and you could see that several of them saved the picture. He was looking at you with a mix of shock and pride. He knew that you fit in with their antics and teasing but this was one of the few times he was at the brunt of it. You smiled at the chaos, said I love you, blew a kiss to him again and hung up the call. He was still stuck in shock. Just barely catching that you were wearing the lipstick from the pictures.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Hongjoong Seonghwa Yeosang San Mingi Wooyoung Jongho

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh, I know that cliffhanger was so mean 😂 But I'm happy we're finally here at the (soon) happy end 💕

Me presenting the mess lmao:

First, I've gotta say how pretty the color scheme and art is for this fic, Wayne. So delicate and lovely. 👌🏽🩷🩵

Aww, thank you, Alex! I fully went with the fic title inspiration for that one lol. Can't beat the Swiftie outta me after sixteen years 😂🩵🩷 (And I genuinely love the new tumblr functions. About damn time!)

Clearly Ben isn't taking this well (nor should he, tbf). It really got me when he said that she was his best friend -- his only friend as well as his love. I get that he feels betrayed, but though he's come a long way, he still hasn't matured enough not to lash out at her over the phone. 🙄

Ooof, that phone call was rough, wasn't it? But I think he really panicked when she said that and instantly reverted back to his old self that probably gives him more confidence and protection 😭💔

I love and melt every time when he calls her his only (and best) friend because he certainly realized that when he was in rehab lol. But let's face it – he's not a people person that makes friends easily 😂

askasdnawjf omfg, BEN. 💀💀💀

Oh, you just know that man shamelessly enjoys Mrs. Brooks' flirting 🤣🤣🤣

Awwww Benny. 🥹 This kid's probably the only reason Ben's holding it together. I loved Ben's internal monologue of how he's trying to do better for his son, but also feels guilty for even saying in anger that he's not his real son. 😭 I truly hope the kid never actually hears about that later. Idk if my heart could take it! 😂

I was a little worried it might be too OOC, but he did learn and grow a lot in rehab and after that whole Homelander thing, I could really see him accept the boy as his own eventually, especially since it's just been the two of them alone all this time. I think if reader were there, they might not even have bonded as much 💚

But it's so sweet when he really tries to do better than his own father, even though some methods are still a little quesionable 😂🫶

Oooh this makes so much sense that he would keep a vial of V for emergencies. Like as much as we don't want that for him at this point, the danger of this world and how it views Ben might push him to do something drastic to save his family.

There was no way he wasn't keeping something for emergencies. Although he's happy where he is now, I don't think he'll ever fully trust the peace and will always cling to Soldier Boy as his go-to protection lol

And kudos to him for not using it so far! God knows that would've been an easy fix for him to be with his wife again 😭

lol at least she knows him well. 😅 She knows he didn't mean the shit he said, even if it did cut her down to the bone.

She does lol. And I found her whole attitude toward it really gracious. We all mess up sometimes and no one's perfect. Sometimes things we don't mean slip out in the heat (or hurt) of the moment... 🙈

loll baby steps. 😅

Their little breakfast together as a family was so wholesome and lovely (despite Ben's mouth lol)!

lol all the baby steps with him 😂 But I loved showing how Ben was slowly adjusting to the new world of the 21st century

LOL yeeeah, kids are hard work, Ben. Now he sees for himself. 🤣🤣

We all know that man just wants to spread his seed and not put in any of the work 😂😭 But Benny surely taught him a lesson on that one lmao

I never thought of it this way, but that's such an interesting (and delicious) power imbalance with SB that you would never see coming in a fic. Such good storytelling. 👌🏽

Aww, thank you! I loved the opportunity to show some reversed roles for once. And it really opened Ben’s eyes to how some of his lovers might have felt lol

Oh GODDDD. Are you pulling in the Gen V virus?!

I did – kinda lol. I wrote Rehab before Gen V and S4 came out, but I figured this is good way for a cure loophole haha. But since the series is already its own AU/timeline, I made some minor adjustments to the OG virus 🤓

I have to wonder if Neuman in on it and that's why she sent our girl home. Or maybe someone else is targetting her, or she caught the virus somehow by accident? Oh good lord. 😰 Ben's REALLY gonna need to step it up if he's going to save her (and himself really).

Honestly, I could’ve easily turned this into a multi-chapter conspiracy, but I tried to keep it short, sweet, and uncomplicated for once before I accidentally ruin their happy end again 😂🩷

But I figured just all the traveling and airports would expose her more, and it all just trickles down to bad luck (or maybe a blessing in disguise) 😉

Lover – Part 1

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, angst, discussions of divorce, Dad!Soldier Boy, human!Soldier Boy, SB trying to be an ally (trust me it's a warning lol), fluff, (the beginnings of) smut

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Sid and Nancy are back to finally get their happy end for Valentine's 💕 The road might be a little bumpy until then, but we'll get there 😉

Disclaimer: This is a sequel story. The reader and Soldier Boy met at a rehab facility in 2025 after both being cured of Compound V. Reader became a supe again at the end of the series and is still currently a supe with acidic powers. Seriously guys, catch up with the links above. I can't explain everything... 😝

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: Lovelorn

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface. But underneath the serenity roars a thundering storm, his mind reeling like the fishing pole in his grasp without an end in sight.

“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N! I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“Divorce.”

Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger. His jaw clenches, the grip around the pole tightening. He’s sure even the fish can feel his fury since they refuse to bite this evening. A flicker of sunlight that reflects on the water’s surface then hits his green eyes, flashes of the haunting night flowing freely into his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You wanna fucking divorce me?!”

“Ben, just listen–“

“No, you fucking listen! You’re my fucking wife, and you’re not fucking leaving me! You understand? Till death do us part, sweetheart, and I fucking mean it.”

Ben’s heart twinges at the memory. He recalls how she startled at his threat, not knowing he regretted those words as soon as he said them. He remembers how her breath halted, how her hands jittered, and how the tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Ben, I just want you to be happy. You’re supposed to have a family. Everything you ever wanted…”

“So were you. You’re supposed to be fucking here. With me. And the kid. We’re supposed to do this fucking thing together. Remember?”

“But I can’t!”

“Can’t or don’t fucking want to, huh?”

“Ben, I don’t wanna keep you trapped. This way, you can find someone new. Someone who can give you want you want.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? No one can give me want I fucking want but you. I wanna fucking be with you!”

“Ben…”

“No, you know what? You wanna fucking leave me like all the others, go fucking right ahead!”

“Ben–“

“You want me to fuck someone else so badly? Be fucking happy? Fucking fine! Consider your wish granted, wifey. Guess, I’m going out tonight and fuck some other slut. Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

“Ben!”

“Fuck you, my love!”

Ben doesn’t even remember if he hung up before he flung the phone against wall. All he knows is that he had to get a new one the next morning.

And moreover, he did go out that very same night. He called the neighbor, Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

At the bar, he then met Cynthia – a petite redhead with a huge rack, a perfectly shaped ass, and ideal child-bearing hips in a tight, glittery, emerald dress. It shone like a neon sign.

He bought her three drinks, and she constantly touched his arm as he whispered dirty things into her ear. He could’ve easily persuaded her to come to the dingy pub’s bathroom with him, where he’d rail her from behind till she saw fucking stars and was dripping his cum. But the scrape of her nails against his skin caused him to shudder over and over again – not in the good way – and he cursed himself for fucking missing his wife. He also remembered how shitty he'd felt the last time he had executed similar revenge plans…

This wouldn’t do, so he ditched the floozy there on the spot and returned to an empty house, angrier and more frustrated than before.

Ben fucking hates everything and everyone.

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him.

Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

He tries his best to hide his envenomed mood from his son. He recalls how he always hated it when his own father took his personal shit out on him. Ben vows to do better, although the focus should really be on the term trying.

He fails more often than not.

Another regret of that night trickles into his mind then, one that haunts and tortures him more than the other hateful things he’s spewed.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

Sure, in the beginning, Ben thought he’d never really view the kid as his own flesh and blood, but he would’ve gone along with it for her. Y/N once called them a family of misfits – forgotten and lost souls cast out by the rest of society. But they’d always have each other and that was what counted.

Where the fuck is she now, though?

When she didn’t come with them to start their new life, Ben pretty much wrote the whole ‘found family’ bullshit off as a lost cause. He’d never get along with the kid, he was constantly frustrated by the little rascal’s shenanigans and outbursts, all the while his long-distance wife urged him to be patient over a fucking phone.

Ben’s felt fucking alone most days.

However, with a firm hand, a level head, and some old-school discipline, Ben’s managed the impossible and set the kid on the right track. Now, little Ben’s staying out of playground trouble, being nice to his teachers, and getting straight-As.

Alright, fine…

Out of sheer boredom and not because he was desperate, Ben might have read those stupid parenting books Y/N got him for Christmas: The Gentle Parenting Book, Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, and Parenting from the Inside Out.

Bunch of sissy bullshit if you ask Ben. He wanted a fucking Rolex under the tree and not coded messages wrapped in nice paper. And moreover, he’ll never admit that hogwash has actually helped, even if the Russians take him and torture him for another forty years.

It’s been a fucking struggle, but the boy’s grown on him. And in all honesty, the kid probably resembles him more than the firstborn who shares his bloodline. Sometimes, Ben even (quietly) thinks it’s a fucking good thing the kid doesn’t have an ounce of his DNA.

So, now they go camping and fishing together. They go to the bowling alley, the arcade, and to local high school football games. Ben tries to teach the boy what he knows (to the best of his abilities). And a few weeks ago, the kid suddenly started to call him the D-word. Y/N, on the other hand, has received the M-word pretty instantly – and she’s a fucking great mother, even from afar.

And at first, Ben surely considered it fucking weird since the kid isn’t really his, but, well, the word’s grown on him as much as the boy himself.

Ben still feels fucking guilty for even merely suggesting he wasn’t his real son – because he is, and he hopes the kid never finds out he ever uttered those words in the first place.

The former supe sighs internally. What has she fucking done to him? He wouldn’t mind the change as much if he got to keep the reward…

His mind flickers with a glimmer of an idea when the fading sunlight hits the shimmering veil again. The solution to everything, one little blue vial, is hidden right underneath the wooden floorboards of his bedroom. He’s thought about it a lot.

He could be with her. She wouldn’t have to be scared to hurt him. He could be someone again. Nothing could break him anymore.

Sometimes, that shit was harder to quit than fucking drugs. No wonder they needed a whole-ass rehab for it.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak.

He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Because of what? Because he’s being a whiny pussy who wants to risk his wife’s life over a fucking kiss? A fuck?

It sounds insane. He doesn’t want this.

She’s more than his wife, too. She’s his fucking best friend and the only one he’s ever had. Maybe that’s why it hurts so fucking much. How could she even think for a second he’d rather fucking leave and do this with some fucking stranger?

Doesn’t she believe he’s changed? Not even her? Who else is there, then?

“Dad?” His son blinks at him with that look he can’t say no to. Why the fuck are children always doing that? “Can we order pizza? I don’t think the fish are biting.”

“I think you’re right. And hey, I can always go for pizza. Great idea, buddy,” Ben says and can see the kid brighten up at his words. He’d always wanted his father to call him “buddy” or “slugger” – or something other than a fucking disappointment.

What about the kid? pops into his mind. If he takes Compound V again, what happens to his son? What if he becomes one of the monsters Ben’s trying to protect him from? He knows all too well how that shit fucked with his mind the first time around. It’s not as easy.

“Hey.”

Ben’s heart stills like the water in front of him as the soft melody of her voice reaches his ears. He presses his eyes shut as the kid ditches his fishing pole on the dock and dives straight into her waiting arms.

“Mommy!”

“Hey, buddy, I missed you.” She smiles and tousles his hair, but her eyes drift to the far end of the dock where her husband still sits and doesn’t bother to even face her. “I got a surprise for you inside in the kitchen, Benny. You wanna go run ahead and check it out? Your dad and I will join you soon.”

“Cool! Awesome! See ya!”

Their son bolts so fast toward the house, Y/N’s surprised he doesn’t stumble in the grass once. She then lets out a sigh when her attention turns back to her sulking husband.

“You’re gonna acknowledge me at all or just ignore me for the rest of your life?” she prompts, a bit of venom on her tongue.

Yes, she knows her words hurt him, even though they were said with the best intentions. She knows she’s failing as a wife and mother. She knows they both deserve better. She just wanted him to have the option.

However, she can’t say his words haven’t hurt her, too. And it hurt even more when he ignored her for two weeks straight, kept her from their son, and never returned any of her calls or messages.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

“Not sure yet,” he finally answers but still doesn’t even gift her a glance over his broad and brooding shoulder.

“Oh, it speaks.” She can’t help the bits of sarcasm but is aware she has to tread carefully now. “You’ve been ignoring me for two weeks.”

“Don’t have much to fucking say to you…” Ben grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler next to him, twists it open, and occupies his mouth with a gulp before he says something else he regrets. “‘Sides, my phone broke. Got a new one.”

“Something you usually tell your wife,” she mutters bitterly under her breath.

“Yeah, but not you’re fucking ex-wife,” he retorts.

“We’re still married.”

“Does it fucking matter?” Ben counters and takes another sip.

“I hope it does,” she mumbles and sighs once more, pocketing her hands in her jacket. It’s gotten cold outside – much like their marriage. “Guess that means you haven’t seen my press conference this morning?”

“Nope. Don’t fucking care,” Ben scoffs. He sounds more than a little bitter before his raspy voice ramps up with pettiness. “Already got a new piece of ass. Better fuck than you ever were. Sorry, doll.”

Y/N purses her lips, her head bobbing when he throws the dagger that aims for her heart. He could’ve still been Soldier Boy, and she would’ve believed him. And somehow, she isn’t surprised by his reaction, which really is the sad part. Her heart floods with hurt; her mind berates him and calls him every goddamn name in the book she’s ever learned from him.

Broken promises – that is the theme of their marriage.

Instead of pouring oil into the fire, however, she decides to stay calm. They’ve been through so much together. She’s already forgiven him once, she can do it again.

No one’s perfect. Not her. Not him. Especially him.

“I resigned this morning.”

Yup. Ben feels immediate regret for the lie he’s told.

He’s so stumped by her words, his head finally twists over his shoulder with wide eyes and a raised brow. Their gazes meet for the first time, and Ben is reminded why he had avoided eye contact.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Look, uhm… I know this is my fault,” she starts and swallows thickly. Her eyes are so focused on the tips of her boots, she doesn’t even notice he has gotten up from his spot and is strolling closer to her. “I shouldn’t have said it. Not over the phone, not like this. I don’t wanna divorce you, okay? I don’t wanna fucking leave you. I love you, even when you drive me nuts, which you do quite a lot… But the point is – I want this with you. I’ve always wanted this with you… I’ve been working really hard to control my powers and doing meditations, and Vicky even got me a trainer… I want this to work, ok–“

She’s cut off by his lips on hers. His massive hands cup her entire face and hold her so close to him, she’s not sure they’re not melting into one person altogether. He kisses her so deeply as if he hasn’t done it in ages, which he hasn’t.

And sure, surprising her is probably not the smartest idea, considering she could accidentally kill him. But he’s always lived for a good adrenaline rush.

“Ben!” she gasps, eyes wide. But she doesn’t pull away like she usually does. She even keeps her palms placed on his beating heart. She giggles a little at his eagerness and is positively baffled by his reaction. It patches the wounds on her heart a bit.

“I fucking lied, okay? It’s not true. I didn’t-… There’s no one else, alright?” he assures her quickly, thumb brushing her glowing cheeks. “You believe me?”

He’s almost nervous that she won’t. He can’t even blame her, considering his track record. But to his relief, her lips rise to a soft smile.

“I do,” she replies, causing his heart to downright soar. “Don’t ask me why, because I have no fucking idea, but I do.”

Ben smacks his lips. There’s more weighing on his crumpled, old, and heavy heart. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said that night too, alright? I would never hurt you, I swear.”

She nods in his hands. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? Sometimes we say things we don’t mean. Doesn’t make them true. You know I’m kinda the queen of that,” she says and offers him a wry smile.

Ben then pulls her to his lips and kisses her – feverishly and fervently. This time, he even dares to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands graciously exploring her curves that mold perfectly to his frame. When he generously palms and squeezes her buttcheeks, she breaks from the kiss with a laugh.

“Slow down, Casanova,” she says, giggling, her cheeks blushing and hurting furiously. “Take it easy on me, alright? Baby steps.”

“Not even a little sorry.” He chuckles quite cheekily and reluctantly lets her go but stays close. “So, you quit? What about the deal? What did the bitch say?”

“Well, good things happen when you’re nice to people and actually make friends,” she says with a mischievous smile that’s supposed to hide the lecture. But Ben knows there’s one somewhere in there. “Vicky just wants me to be happy, so she reluctantly let me go because I’m still an awesome Chief of Staff. And granted, she doesn’t necessarily understand why my happiness includes you, but she’s a great friend, so…”

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

“You’re staying? For good now?” he checks, not trusting the peace entirely. When could he ever?

“I’m staying for good,” she confirms, smiling brightly. “Unless you don’t want me t–“

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” He kisses her faster than her mouth can move, hot and rough. As he slowly draws back, his nose brushes hers, and he looks deeply into her eyes. “I’m gonna show you how much I want you tonight.”

“Ben, I told you – baby steps,” she reminds him gently but still giggles when he continues to tease her, beard tickling the spot behind her ear.

“I promise I steer clear of the home runs, but I will make it to third base, my love,” he all but swears and places a wet kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s get inside before the kid burns the house down…”

Y/N laughs as she takes his hand, sauntering back to their home together as the sun sets behind them.

“Mom, you wanna come to a football game with us tonight?” her son asks as he eagerly shuffles his breakfast into his mouth.

The boy hasn’t left her side since she’s come home last night, even sneaking into their bed to cuddle with her – a little to Ben’s chagrin. But after a few scolding looks from his wife, he relented to sharing the attention.

She swears she has two children sometimes…

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she agrees with a wide smile. Little things like that are all she’s ever wanted.

Ben can tell she’s moved because there are tears stinging her eyes again. He thinks they might be a permanent addition at this point, considering they haven’t disappeared since she came home.

“Just a heads up, though, the football coach is a twink,” Ben informs her and actually believes it’s helpful.

Y/N furrows her brow and tilts her head. “Ben, what–“

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.”

“Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug. It might not seem like much, but it’s the most acceptance he’s ever shown someone from the LGBTQ community.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a full ally now.” He grins broadly. “Even the lesbians said so.”

“What lesbians?”

“Alec’s parents,” he replies as if it’s obvious, referring to their son’s best friend in school.

“You never said they were lesbians,” she points out, the wrinkles on her brow deepening.

“Sure, I did.”

“No, you said Alec’s parents were a ‘hot blonde’ and some ‘burly dude.’”

“Yeah.” He shrugs simply. “And the burly dude turned out to be a woman. Took me a while to realize, though. Was hard to find boobs under that flannel…”

“Alright, and I think that is enough grown-up talk around the kid for now,” she says, shaking her head in amusement.

“I don’t mind,” Benny quips from his chair and grins slyly at his parents.

“Uh-huh, keep eating your breakfast,” she says and ruffles his hair as she gets up from her seat by the island next to him.

They spend the whole day together, taking Benny to the batting cage at the park and the food court at the mall before attending a high school football game. As they return home late that night, the kid is so exhausted he falls right into his bed and passes out, and Ben hopes to God he goddamn stays there for the rest of the night.

He has great plans for his wife tonight.

“Alone at last,” Y/N says as she slings her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply as she sways in his embrace in the living room, his large hands resting perfeclty on her hips.

“You can say that again,” Ben huffs, but there’s amusement in his voice.

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle.

“Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…”

She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

“Wanna get working on one right now?” Ben suggests with his best flirty smile and a wag of his brows but can quickly see her reluctance and cups her cheeks, lifting her gaze to him. “We’ll go as slow as you need to, alright? But I believe in you. I know you got this shit under control.”

For a heartbeat, she licks her lips in contemplation, and Ben already thinks it’s a lost cause, but then she actually nods.

“Okay,” she agrees and stretches on tiptoes to tentatively catch his upper lip between her soft, plush pillows. Her fingers crawl up his jaw, card through his beard. “But you’re gonna have to let me be in control if you don’t want me to kill you.”

Ben only entertains it with a cheeky smile. “Well, might be fun for a change,” he says and lifts her back to his lips with a finger under her chin.

He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. He only turns on the small lamp by his bedside before his ravening eyes turn their full attention back to her. He marvels at her beauty in the soft, warm glow for a moment before lifting the t-shirt over her head and tossing it aside.

He kisses down the column of her throat, teeth biting skin and soothing it with his tongue as he works his way inside her bra. A hunger is spreading inside of him at her taste, her smell, her noises. He tries to tame it as best as he can on her behalf, but it’s fucking hard. He’s fucking hard.

She hums, moans the further he travels, the rougher he gets as he devours every free inch of her body. He tests the waters, sees where he can bite. Her skin is more durable now. Ben still remembers the feeling – the numbness.

Her fingers jitter nervously as they fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. Ben thinks it’s cute. He’s never seen her like this before. He’s almost sad he doesn’t have super-hearing anymore to listen to the wild beats of her heart.

But he wouldn’t trade what he’s feeling right now for the world. He has almost forgotten what it all felt like before the blue poison made him so indifferent and callous. He never thought he’d wish her to be human. And not out of petty, jealousy, or selfishness – out of love.

Ben wants her to feel exactly what he feels and knows she fucking can’t right now.

The rest of their clothes land in a pile on the floor as they peel off each item, carefully working their way to bare skin. Ben’s fingers almost twitch from holding back – he’d love to tear and rip it all off. Baby steps.

When she’s left only in a pair of delicate lace panties, she gently pushes against his chest, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire.

Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy?

Little scary…

She straddles his thighs and takes a seat in his lap, teeth biting her bottom lip back and hiding half of the smile that graces her lips. Her hips rock against the achingly straining bulge in his boxers.

Ben’s been as hard as tungsten since she’s kissed him last night. Forty years imprisonment haven’t cost him this much restraint as one year without touching his wife, who was practically right underneath his nose the whole time. He figures it was the sheer temptation that constantly triggered his need for her. The Russians never were that fucking pretty.

She sucks the skin on his throat purple and blue and leaves bite marks behind. Ben knows she loves staking her claim on him, and he always enjoys inspecting her little art projects in the mornings. He’s gladly hers as much as she is his.

His massive hands wander her curves, squeeze taut flesh and perfectly frame her perky tits. Her skin feels smooth and soft and warm, hot even. Too hot…

“You’re hot,” he murmurs breathlessly against her lips.

She doesn’t understand what he means and smiles, although her brow furrows slightly as if she found the question at least a little odd. He was usually more direct, more racy. “Thank you. So are you?”

She tries to kiss him again, but he pulls back, his hands grabbing her upper arms and holding her at a distant as he inspects her closely. His brow knits deeper and deeper as he cups her scorching cheeks before his palm slides to her forehead.

“No…” He shakes his head, worry stirring his blood. His heartbeat accelerates, but not for the purpose he expected it to. “You’re burning up.”

As Ben looks closer at her face, he sees how pale she is, how hazy her eyes are. He worries more.

“I do feel a little warm, I guess,” she admits and then forces a weak smile. He could’ve almost mistaken it for lust. “But I’m fine, okay? Probably just nerves.”

Ben would love nothing more than to believe that, but he can’t. Something’s wrong. But it’s his job as her husband to not make her worry and take care of her.

“How about we postpone this to tomorrow, huh, my love?” Ben suggests and gently cards his hands through her hair.

“You sure?” She is surprised, considering how adamant and persistent he’s been to get her here. But she honestly feels too exhausted to argue for long.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says and lovingly pecks her temple. “Just get some rest, okay? It’s been a lot for you those past two days.”

Ben helps her gently into bed, ensures the blanket covers her thoroughly, and places a goodnight kiss to her hairline. She’s fast asleep by the time he leaves the bedroom.

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion.

And then, fear sets in.

Part 2: Lovesick – TOMORROW 💕

*coughs a little angst* We might have a teeny-tiny virus going around... 👀

What did you guys think of this part? Did you expect him to postpone sexy times? Someone finally give that man his fucking Rolex for those heroics 😂🫶

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[mangionebabymama]

I wonder how lu would try to patch things up after an argument….would he silently join you in bed to cuddle you, verbally tell you, write it out, act stubborn 😭

Probably a combination of all four, lol, depending on the situation and the severity of the argument. After a while of you having some alone time to yourself, as he’d give you your space to deliberate over what was said and done earlier, he’d want to prove that he still loves you, regardless, and that he’s sorry. So, that’s when he’d walk into your room and silently join you in bed to cuddle you, coming up from behind, holding you for the rest of time that silence carries you together. Then, he’d bring up the elephant in the room and would mean all seriousness in taking about it and addressing it up front and center.

I could see, if there was an instance where he was so frustrated, that he was an inch away from saying something he’d ultimately regret. But he’s quite emotionally intelligent to know that it’s not the solution, because he knows better and was raised better than that, so he holds his tongue, not saying a word. But he has to get out what he’s been trying to say, so instead, he takes some time for himself, allowing himself to breathe for a moment and then to sit down, where he gets to writing out about how he feels—sometimes, it’s easier to write it out than to let it out, as it may not sound the same from his mouth as it would from his mind.

And then, there may be a time, once or twice, where he’s just plain stubborn—you weren’t listening to him, you didn’t hear him out, so you weren’t seeing eye to eye, and now he’s going to do the same. For him, he doesn’t think it’s not that much big of a deal to consider what he’s thinking for once. In his gut, he feels what he feels is right, and though his heart and mind may say differently, he can’t let go of his own word. Who wouldn’t?

[aller-geez]

Oxygen

Written & illustrated by: allergeez 🖤

Hey! Remember back in August how I teased a Svelex fic set for Elex’s birthday? NWELL, I FINALLY FINISHED IT 6 MONTHS LATER ✨

Just under 8k words, CW: Illness & Injury (fever, pneumonia, difficulty breathing, passing out) Medical Settings (hospital/ER scenes, oxygen use, discussions of health conditions), Mild Alcohol Use (social drinking, light references), Themes of Self-Neglect (pushing past physical limits, refusing to ask for help)

Though Oxygen explores themes of stubbornness, friendship, and vulnerability, at its heart, it’s a story about learning when to let go—and knowing when someone cares enough to catch you.

Summary: S7en has never been great at self-preservation, but for Elex’s birthday, he’s determined to pull off the perfect surprise. Weeks of planning, secret coordination, and late-night prep have all led to this—one flawless night where everything goes exactly as planned.— There’s just one problem. S7en is sick. Really sick. And he’s been hiding it.

With the weight of the day pressing down on him, the only thing keeping him going is sheer stubbornness and the desperate hope that he can hold out just a little longer. But as the night unfolds, his body has other plans, and no amount of willpower can fight the inevitable.

As reality comes crashing down, S7en is forced to confront a truth he’s spent his entire life ignoring—he’s not invincible. And sometimes, pretending to be okay only makes things worse.

Prologue:

S7en had never worked so hard on something in his life.

For weeks, he had been obsessively planning Elex’s birthday party—late nights spent hunched over sketches, paint drying on his fingers as he designed the perfect decorations, hours scouring online shops for the exact shade of green streamers that wouldn’t make Elex groan about “clashing aesthetics.” He’d snuck around behind his back to pull together the guest list, bribe people into secrecy, and track down the most obnoxiously over-the-top cake he could find. It had to be perfect.

Elex deserved perfect.

And, as always, Elex had no clue.

Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. The man could smell a lie from a mile away, sniff out bullshit like a bloodhound, but when it came to anything about himself, he was painfully oblivious. S7en could have probably told him, straight-up, “Hey, I’m planning a surprise party for you,” and Elex still would have just grunted, shrugged, and gone back to chewing on whatever plastic thing he’d picked up that day.

The same way he had completely failed to notice that S7en was getting sicker by the hour.

It had started as a scratch in his throat, nothing major—just the kind of raw, dry feeling he chalked up to too many sleepless nights and the absolute joke that was his hydration levels. He ignored it, popped a cough drop, kept going. He had too much to do to slow down now.

But then it got worse.

The scratch deepened into a constant ache, turning into that burning, sandpaper sensation that made every swallow a chore. His voice had started rasping sometime around day three, but he played it off, clearing his throat and mumbling that it was just from talking too much.

Then came the congestion.

Thick. Unshakable. A slow-building pressure behind his nose and eyes that made his head feel too heavy, too tight. He kept sniffling between sentences, breath hitching every time he tried to take a full inhale, but he was damn good at keeping it subtle.

Elex never noticed.

When he felt a sneeze creeping up, he’d duck into another room, press the back of his wrist hard against his nose, and wait it out. If he got caught off guard, he’d twist away, stifling into his sleeve so violently it left him dizzy. It left his chest tight, his head pounding, but it was better than Elex hearing and asking questions.

There was too much to do.

If he let himself sneeze once, it would turn into five. Maybe ten. And if that happened, he’d never get through his never-ending to-do list.

So he fought it. Again and again.

S7en had become a professional at dodging suspicion. He had to be—Elex might have been oblivious about some things, but he wasn’t stupid. If S7en so much as sniffled too obviously, the badger would latch onto it like a feral dog with a bone.

So S7en adapted. He learned how to mask it, how to time it, how to slip away just before his body betrayed him.

But sometimes… it got close.

The first time was late—way too late.

S7en had been running on a handful of energy drinks and sheer force of will, hunched over his desk, hand-painting decorations that no one but him would care about. The apartment was silent, save for the soft glow of his desk lamp and the occasional sound of Elex shifting in his sleep.

Which was a problem.

Because that meant every single noise S7en made was way too obvious.

He had been trying—really trying—to keep himself together, but his nose was done playing nice. The burning deep in his sinuses was unbearable, and no matter how much he bit his lip or rubbed furiously at the underside of his nose, it wasn’t stopping.

The tickle teased mercilessly, rising, falling, rising again.

Don’t. Don’t. Not now.

His breath hitched.

He jerked forward, smothering the sound into his hoodie sleeve as hard as he could.

“Hhh’NGXT!—h'KXT’chh!"

He held still, heart hammering in his chest.

The silence stretched.

Then—

A sleepy mumble from the bed.

“...Why you sneezing like a bitch over there…?”

S7en froze.

Shit.

He hadn’t even realized Elex had woken up. The badger’s voice was thick with sleep, slurred and lazy, but there was just enough suspicion in it to make S7en’s stomach drop.

Think. Think.

“Fucking… dust?..,” he muttered quickly, sniffling once for effect. “The paper’s covered in it.”

A long pause.

Then—

A heavy sigh, followed by the sound of Elex flopping onto his other side.

“Go to bed, dumbass,” he mumbled.

S7en stayed still until he was sure Elex had drifted off again.

Then, finally, he slumped forward, burying his face in his arms.

Too close.

The second time was worse.

They were sitting on the couch, half-watching some dumb action movie, Elex’s feet propped up on the coffee table as he mindlessly chewed on the plastic cap of a water bottle. He was in a good mood, talking non-stop about how he "just had a feeling something cool was gonna happen" on his birthday.

Which would have been hilarious if S7en wasn’t actively trying not to sneeze on him.

His nose had been itching relentlessly for the last five minutes. That awful, creeping burn was rising up again, and no matter how much he rubbed at his nose discreetly, it wasn’t enough.

Bad timing. Really bad timing.

His breath hitched—barely enough to make a sound.

Too close.

He needed to get out of there.

Stretching his arms in an exaggerated yawn, he forced his muscles to stay loose and casual as he pushed himself off the couch.

“Gonna grab a drink,” he muttered, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Get me one,” Elex called after him, not even looking away from the screen.

S7en didn’t answer.

Because the second he was out of sight, he barely made it to the sink in time before a violent—

"Hh—! HHAHH—! HAHDT’tchhiew!! Hh—! AHHDT’tchhiiuhh!"

—ripped through him, bending him forward with the force of it.

His hands gripped the edge of the counter, breath shuddering as another chest-deep cough tore out of him immediately after. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to get it together before—

“You good in there?”

S7en nearly jumped out of his own damn skin.

Elex’s voice was casual, distracted, but S7en knew him too well.

The badger had noticed something.

Shit.

He barely had time to smother another cough into his sleeve before he forced his voice to sound normal.

“Yeah. Just—fucking—dropped something.”

A pause.

Then, mercifully, Elex just grunted, attention snapping back to the movie.

S7en exhaled slowly, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples.

Too close. Again.

By the end of the week, he knew.

This wasn’t just a cold.

The signs had been there for days, creeping up on him like a slow, inevitable landslide. At first, it had been subtle—a scratch in his throat, a little extra weight in his chest. But now? Now, every breath ached, every inhale felt like dragging air through soaked fabric.

His lungs weren’t just tight anymore. They were drowning.

And when he coughed—because, at this point, there was no fighting it anymore—it wasn’t some weak, dry little thing he could brush off. No, it was deep, raw, rattling, the kind of cough that came from somewhere low and dangerous, scraping the bottom of his lungs like a dull blade.

It hurt.

And Elex still didn’t notice.

Because S7en made sure of it.

He had perfected the art of hiding it.

Whenever Elex was around, S7en played it off like nothing was wrong. He timed his coughing fits so they happened when Elex was in the shower, when he was digging through the fridge, when he was too distracted ranting about something to notice the way S7en had to brace himself against the counter just to stay upright.

If a sneeze hit, he bit back against it with everything he had, muffling it into his hoodie sleeve until his head pounded. If he couldn’t stop it, he’d make sure to stifle it into near silence, no matter how much the pressure made his already aching sinuses throb.

His voice was going hoarse, his breathing was labored, but he pushed through, kept talking like nothing had changed.

When his hands started shaking, he simply curled his fingers tighter around whatever he was holding—a drink, his paintbrush, the edge of the counter—until they stopped trembling long enough to keep up the act.

His eyes were red-rimmed, glassy, but if Elex glanced at him for too long, he’d just mutter something about being exhausted and wave him off.

Everything needed to be done.

And he wasn’t about to let a little cold ruin it.

Even as it got harder to stand without swaying.
Even as his lungs tightened like a vice with every breath.
Even as his body screamed at him to just stop.

He pushed forward.

Forward. Forward. Forward.

August 10th:

The morning of Elex’s birthday should have been easy.

After all, S7en had spent weeks planning every last detail. The decorations were set up, the cake was waiting in the fridge, and their friends were in on the plan, all waiting for the big reveal later that night.

All he had to do was get through the day.

And yet, when Elex jolted awake that morning—cocky, buzzing with birthday energy, already texting half his contact list like he was about to throw himself the most legendary party of all time—S7en could barely sit up without his vision blurring at the edges.

The second he lifted his head, a fresh pulse of pain slammed through his skull, a migraine so sharp it felt like his brain was trying to escape through his eye sockets. He swallowed against the nausea, trying to ignore the way his throat burned, raw and swollen, while his chest tightened with every inhale.

Bad. Really bad.

But he didn’t have time for bad.

So, S7en forced a grin, let Elex’s nonsense birthday rambling wash over him, and powered through.

“S7en, I swear to God, my birthday instincts are going crazy today,” Elex announced, cracking open an energy drink before he was even fully sitting up.

S7en barely managed to hold back a pained wince at the sound of the can popping. Too loud.

“Oh yeah?” he croaked, then immediately regretted speaking. His voice was wrecked, rougher than usual, like he’d spent the entire night screaming into a pillow.

Not ideal.

But if Elex noticed, he didn’t say anything—too busy stretching with an exaggerated groan before flopping onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His mismatched eyes gleamed, that lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

“Yeah. It’s like—I dunno, a sixth sense,” Elex went on, taking a sip of his drink. “Like, I just know when something big’s about to happen.”

S7en hummed, noncommittal. “Birthday instincts,” he repeated flatly.

“Exactly.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you might need a refund, dude.”

Elex snorted, waving him off. “Nah, nah, it’s real. Watch—by the end of the day, something sick is gonna go down, and I’m gonna be totally right.”

S7en bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, because if Elex had even the slightest clue about the party, he would not be this calm. But the badger, for all his cocky bravado, was utterly, hilariously clueless.

Good. That meant S7en’s work wasn’t for nothing.

But as he pushed himself up, the room lurched sideways, and his stomach twisted violently.

Shit.

He froze, pressing his hands into the mattress to steady himself, willing the dizziness to pass. But his lungs ached when he took a breath, and his ribs felt like they were wrapped in tight, unrelenting bands.

Breathe. Breathe through it.

Elex, of course, was too busy hyping himself up to notice.

“Bet something sick happens before noon,” he said, checking his phone. “Maybe I’ll win some crazy giveaway. Or, like, get free food somewhere.”

S7en forced out a breathy laugh, ignoring the sharp, rattling sensation in his chest.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Something like that.”

Because at the rate he was going?

Something was gonna happen before noon.

Just not the kind of surprise Elex was expecting.

S7en just had to get through the morning.

Then the afternoon.

Then the party.

Simple.

Except nothing about this was simple when his entire body was actively trying to betray him.

He had barely been upright for two minutes before the pressure in his sinuses flared up again, an unbearable, burning tickle crawling its way deeper. His breath caught just once—a sharp, involuntary inhale—before he forced it down, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting.

Not now. Not in front of Elex.

Elex, still riding his birthday ego trip, had zero idea what was going on, stretching like he had all the time in the world. Completely unaware of the absolute war S7en was fighting just two feet away.

"Alright," Elex announced, cracking his neck. "I’m thinking pancakes."

S7en barely heard him. His focus was on not sneezing.

The burning sensation spiked, his nose twitching, his breath threatening to hitch again. He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his mouth, willing the tickle to settle.

No luck.

It was coming, fast.

Shit. Move.

Before Elex could glance his way, S7en swung his legs over the bed and pushed himself up, heading straight for the bathroom. Too fast. His vision swam, dizziness crashing into him all at once, but he barely managed to keep himself upright, gripping the doorframe for balance.

He shoved the door shut behind him, barely able to hold back the gasping inhale before—

"Hh—! Hhh! HAHPT’tschiew!! HAH! AHHDT’shiiiiew!!"

Fuck.

He doubled over against the counter, pressing the heel of his hand against his nose, his breath still stuttering from the sheer force of it. The moment he tried to straighten, another thick, chest-deep cough forced its way up, scraping like sandpaper in his throat.

His lungs felt wrecked. His head was pounding.

And he had approximately five seconds before Elex came looking for him.

Swallowing hard, S7en quickly turned on the sink, splashing cold water onto his face, trying to erase the obvious flush creeping into his cheeks. A second later, he heard Elex’s footsteps outside the door.

“You dying in there?”

S7en cleared his throat, ignoring the sharp pain it sent through his ribs. Make it sound normal.

“Chill,” he called back, voice rough but controlled. “Didn’t know I had to schedule my pisses around your breakfast plans.”

Elex snorted. “I mean, you do. But I’ll allow it, since it’s my birthday.”

S7en exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the sink.

Too close. Again.

By the time S7en forced himself back into the kitchen, Elex had already trashed his pancake idea in favor of raiding the fridge for anything edible. He stood with the door wide open, shoving a piece of cold pizza into his mouth like he wasn’t the absolute most unhinged person alive.

S7en could barely look at food without feeling his stomach twist unpleasantly.

"You good?" Elex asked around a mouthful, finally giving him a passing glance.

S7en shrugged, keeping his movements casual, despite the way his body screamed at him to sit the hell down.

"Tired," he muttered, heading for the cabinet where they kept their mugs. If he had something in his hands, it’d be easier to look normal.

Elex didn’t press, which was both a relief and kind of funny, considering if their situations were reversed, S7en would have had him in a chokehold demanding answers. But Elex just yawned, stretching again.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Big day. You should nap or something."

The irony almost made S7en laugh.

Yeah. Sure. Great idea. He’d get right on that.

As soon as he survived the next fourteen hours.

But as he reached for a mug, the telltale prickling started up again. His breath hitched before he could stop it.

Shit. No. Not here. Not now.

Keeping his back firmly to Elex, he pressed his wrist hard against his nose, willing it to stop. His shoulders tensed as the itch flared up, teasing mercilessly.

Hold it. Hold it. Hold it.

Elex, blissfully unaware, just kept rambling, his voice distant, drowned out by the relentless burning in S7en’s sinuses.

It was winning.

S7en had no choice.

With as much control as he could manage, he ducked his head into the crook of his arm, forcing the sneezes silent.

"Hh'NGXt! Ktchhh!—h’NNgch!"

The pressure was brutal, his skull throbbing with the effort of holding them back. His lungs seized painfully, a cough clawing its way up, but he swallowed it down, knuckles tightening around the counter.

He waited.

Nothing.

Elex hadn't noticed.

Slowly, carefully, S7en straightened, schooling his expression before turning back around.

Elex was still halfway through his pizza, scrolling through his phone with zero clue about the absolute disaster happening right in front of him.

S7en let out a shaky breath, grabbing his mug with slightly unsteady fingers.

He just had to get through the day.

That was the mantra he kept repeating in his head, over and over, like a scratched CD skipping on the same damn track. Just a few more hours. Then the party. Then the moment when Elex would finally see the absolute masterpiece S7en had spent weeks putting together. Then—maybe—he could breathe.

If his lungs still worked by then.

It was getting harder to ignore. Everything.

The aches had settled deep into his bones, like he was dragging concrete around his limbs. His head pounded relentlessly, his chest felt like it was wrapped in steel wire, and his breath was turning shallow, forced, unnatural.

And Elex?

Still didn’t notice.

Somehow.

It was actually impressive, in a way that was borderline offensive.

Because anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell that S7en was not okay.

His skin was pale, fever-glazed, dark shadows lingering beneath his eyes. His voice had gone from a little hoarse in the morning to full-blown wreckage, scraping and raw like he’d been swallowing glass shards for fun.

And yet.

Nothing.

Elex was still living in his own little birthday world, sending obnoxious texts to his friends, hyping up his own damn existence, and loudly debating whether he should get a new tattoo or a pet snake to mark the occasion.

S7en was dying in real time, and Elex was googling exotic pet names.

Ridiculous.

By the time they left the apartment, the sun was too bright, the air too sharp, and S7en was too damn tired.

He had planned to stay inside, get through some last-minute details, maybe even steal a moment to sit down and pretend his body wasn’t actively staging a rebellion.

But Elex, in all his unmatched, chaotic glory, had insisted on going out.

“It’s my birthday,” he had said, flashing a grin that should be illegal. “You’re legally required to follow me around and do dumb shit all day.”

S7en had just barely held back a groan.

The first stop was some hole-in-the-wall shop Elex swore had the best snacks on the planet. S7en, running on sheer force of will and the lingering effects of a third energy drink, followed him in, head pounding, lungs on fire.

He was so focused on staying upright that he didn’t notice the way his sinuses had been slowly tightening, congestion pressing like a vice behind his eyes.

Then, as he shifted his weight, something shifted with it.

A sudden, sharp readjustment deep in his sinuses sent a blinding tickle straight through his nose, pressure tipping over into something unstoppable.

Oh, fuck.

His breath hitched dangerously, his nostrils twitching, the overwhelming sensation building too fast for him to fight.

Not here. Not now.

He turned sharply on his heel, heading toward the corner of the store, hand clamped over his nose.

The moment he was out of sight, he braced against the shelf, burying his face into his sleeve as his body gave up.

“Hh—HhAH’DTschhh! Hh! HHhih—! HAHDT’tchhhiiew! Hhh! AHHDT’tsschueh!!!”

His ribs screamed in protest, his vision swimming from the sheer force of it. His breath hitched again, another wracking cough tearing out of him immediately after, leaving him shaking, dizzy, breathless.

Too much. Way too much.

He forced himself upright, swallowing against the rawness in his throat, fingers digging into the shelf for balance. He needed to move before—

“Sven?”

Shit.

He barely had time to school his face into something remotely normal before Elex appeared around the corner, holding a pack of sour candy and a soda, looking infuriatingly relaxed.

“You find something?” Elex asked, popping open the drink like nothing was wrong.

S7en cleared his throat, biting back the unbearable urge to cough again. “Nah. Just looking.”

Elex blinked at him, then tilted his head slightly.

For half a second, S7en thought—hoped, really—that maybe Elex was finally putting two and two together. That he’d look at him and actually see what was happening.

But then the badger just shrugged.

“Cool. Let’s hit the gas station. I wanna see if they have those weird energy drinks from Japan.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

S7en swallowed back another cough, another wave of exhaustion, and nodded.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice scraping at the sides. “Sure.”

And without much more, he followed Elex back out into the sun, lungs screaming, heart pounding, the warmth of the afternoon too sharp, too heavy against his feverish skin.

The heat pressed down on him like a weight, making the air feel thicker, harder to breathe, and for a moment, as they stepped onto the sidewalk, the world tilted dangerously beneath his feet. He forced himself forward, keeping his stride even, controlled, ignoring the way his vision blurred at the edges.

The party was just a few hours away.

He just had to last a little longer.

But his body? His body was done.

The fever that had been simmering beneath his skin all morning had finally boiled over, turning into a suffocating, all-encompassing heat that made the world feel distant and unreal. He felt like he was walking through a fog, slow and sluggish, barely tethered to his own movements.

His hoodie, usually something soft, comforting, familiar, now felt like a weight pressing down on his overheated body. The fabric clung to his skin like insulation, trapping the fever in, suffocating him from the inside out.

It was getting harder to think.

Harder to breathe.

Every inhale was tight, shallow, unsatisfying, as if the air itself had thickened, turning into something too dense to pull into his lungs. He knew he should have eaten something, but the mere thought of food made his stomach twist violently, nausea crawling up his throat.

But none of it mattered.

None of it could matter.

Because Elex was still completely oblivious.

So when the badger shoved his phone into his pocket and announced they were going to the arcade, S7en nodded.

When Elex cracked another joke about his “birthday instincts,” S7en forced out a laugh, even though his ribs ached from the effort.

And when a sneeze built out of nowhere, sharp and relentless, he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting, forcing it back, forcing his breath to even out before it could betray him.

It was fine.

He could do this.

And then—

Elex threw an arm around his shoulders, dragging him closer, leaning some of his weight into him in that effortless, careless way he always did.

S7en felt his legs nearly give out beneath him.

It was only for a second. A brief, involuntary dip in his balance that he corrected just in time, locking his muscles in place before he could actually collapse.

Elex didn’t notice.

Because of course he didn’t.

He just kept talking, laughing, existing, completely unaware that the world around S7en had started to tilt dangerously again.

That the sounds of the arcade were beginning to blur into a low, distant hum.

That every inhale was tighter, shallower, harder to take in.

That S7en, for the first time all day, wasn’t sure if he could keep this up.

A single thought forced its way through the haze.

You’re not gonna make it to the party.

The arcade was a neon-lit blur, the pounding music and overlapping voices slamming into his skull like a hammer to glass. His fever had reached new, unbearable heights, making the room feel hot and cold all at once, the flashing lights too bright, the noise too much.

And still—he kept moving.

Elex was having the time of his life, completely in his element, button-mashing through some fighting game like it was a life-or-death battle. S7en barely processed what was happening, just stood there, hands shoved into his hoodie pocket, rocking slightly on his heels to keep himself upright.

The floor tilted beneath him again, nausea coiling tight in his stomach.

Just a little longer.

Just a little—

“Dude, you’re terrible at this,” Elex announced, nudging him toward the machine. “Come on, you gotta play at least once. Birthday rules.”

S7en knew if he sat down, he wasn’t getting back up.

But Elex was staring at him now, actually looking at him, and S7en had to move, had to do something, had to make sure Elex didn’t catch on.

So he shrugged, smirked through the absolute exhaustion dragging at his limbs, and picked up the controller.

The match was a disaster.

His hands were too shaky, his reflexes too slow, but somehow—somehow—he made it through without drawing too much attention.

By the time they left the arcade, the sun had begun to set, and the cool air should have felt refreshing. Instead, it only made his fever chills worse.

S7en barely made it through the door before he was shrugging off his hoodie, the fabric sticking to his overheated skin. His t-shirt underneath was just as bad, suffocating, but Elex was already grabbing beers from the fridge, completely unaware of the absolute train wreck standing behind him.

Elex tossed one over without looking.

“Happy birthday to me,” he announced, cracking his open. “Now drink, coward.”

S7en caught the can out of reflex, but the thought of alcohol sent an immediate wave of nausea rolling through him. He hesitated, fingers tightening around the cold metal, trying to psych himself up.

If he refused, Elex would notice.

So he lifted it, took a sip—

And nearly gagged.

The second the liquid hit his throat, his stomach flipped violently, his body rejecting it on instinct. He swallowed it down, forcing his expression to stay neutral, relaxed, normal, but the warmth rising in his throat told a different story.

Fuck.

The carbonation burned going down, only agitating his raw, sore throat further. He barely contained a cough, throat clenching as he forced himself to lower the can casually, like nothing was wrong.

Mercifully, Elex had already turned away, completely distracted by his phone buzzing on the counter.

“Rex?” he muttered, before picking up.

S7en exhaled silently, relief cutting through the fever haze.

“Yo, what’s up?” Elex answered, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed his keys.

S7en barely processed the conversation, his focus slipping in and out as Elex and Rexar started talking about car problems, something about the transmission, something about a weird noise.

Then, finally—finally—Elex headed for the door.

“I’m gonna check my car while I talk him through this,” he said, already halfway outside. “Don’t drink all my beer while I’m gone.”

S7en barely managed a smirk, lifting the can in mock cheers as the door swung shut.

The second the lock clicked, his whole body gave up.

The first cough was immediate, tearing through his chest with enough force to make him double over against the counter. The sound crashed through the empty kitchen, harsh and unrestrained, his body finally allowed to react after an entire day of suppression.

Then another. And another.

It was unstoppable now, his body making up for all the times he’d held it back, a brutal mix of hacking, gasping coughs and desperate, shuddering sneezes.

"Hh—hhAHH’Tschh! Hhh—! HhhAHH—! HAHDT’tchhhiew!! Hhh! AHHDT’tschhhiu!!"

His body jerked forward with each one, raw, painful, messy—his breath barely catching before another slammed into him. His hand scrambled blindly for his phone, barely able to see through fever-glazed eyes as he pulled up his contact list.

The party. The guests. He needed to check the plans.

He hit the first name.

Freya.

Her face appeared on screen, and the second the call connected, she took one look at him and frowned.

"Geezus, S7en. You look like death.”

S7en sniffled hard, rubbing at his nose with his wrist, attempting to smirk, but it came out more like a grimace.

“Damn, angel, don’t hold back,” he rasped.

Freya narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Are you seriously still running this party?"

"Obviously."

"You can barely hold your damn phone up."

S7en rolled his eyes, regretted it immediately when the movement made his head swim. "I’m good."

Freya looked like she wanted to reach through the screen and shake him, but before she could argue, another rapid-fire sneezing fit tore through him, leaving him breathless and hunched forward over the counter.

"Hhh! HAH—hhAHDT'shhiiew!! hHh—! HhHPTT’tchhiEW!! hh—! HAHHDT’tchhIEEW!!”

Freya just stared.

Then—flatly: “Uh-huh. Sure. You sound great.”

S7en groaned, sniffling thickly as he waved her off.

"Look, just—are we still good for eight? I don’t have time for a lecture.”

She sighed, clearly not thrilled, but nodded. "Yeah. Everything’s set."

"Good. See you then."

And with that, he ended the call before she could press him further.

Next.

Kriia picked up on the second ring.

And just like Freya, she took one look at him and immediately frowned.

"Yo. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Evening to you, too," he muttered, sniffling into his sleeve.

"You look like you lost a fight. With, like. A bus."

S7en snorted, regretted it instantly as another cough tore through his chest, sending a sharp, tearing pain through his ribs.

Kriia’s expression shifted, concern settling in. "Dude. Are you sure you should be doing this?"

S7en waved her off before she could start, ignoring the way his vision blurred at the edges.

"It’s Elex’s birthday. I’m not ruining it.”

Kriia exhaled slowly, like she was debating whether to fight him on this. But in the end, she just muttered, "Your funeral, man," before confirming the plans.

S7en ended the call and dropped his phone onto the counter, fingers digging into the surface as another wave of dizziness hit.

The door clicked open again.

Shit.

His body snapped upright on instinct, throat still burning, lungs still raw, but Elex was already stepping inside, phone tucked away, beer still in hand.

"Apparently Rex’s transmission’s fucked," he muttered, completely unaware of what had just happened.

S7en forced a half-smirk, voice barely above a whisper.

"Tough break."

Elex flopped onto the couch.

"Whatever. Commute’s gonna be shit, though."

S7en swallowed hard, ignoring the fire in his chest.

"Yeah," he murmured.

Everything was too hot, too loud, too sharp at the edges. His body was dragging, fever weighing him down like cement blocks strapped to his limbs, but the worst part was his head. It was pounding relentlessly, a deep, throbbing ache that had settled right behind his eyes, making his vision swim every time he moved too fast.

And yet—he still almost forgot the damn restaurant reservations.

It wasn’t until Elex, now two beers deep, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and stretched like he had no plans to move for the rest of the night that it finally hit him.

Shit.

"Alright, get up," S7en said, standing way too fast. The floor tilted. He gritted his teeth, planted his feet, forced himself to stay upright. "We got dinner reservations."

Elex blinked at him, caught mid-yawn. "Wait—what?"

S7en sighed, rolling his eyes like his head wasn’t spinning in slow, miserable circles. "You really thought I wasn’t taking you out for dinner? What kind of boyfriend would I be?"

That earned him a grin, lazy and smug. "Damn. I really am the best."

S7en snorted. "Uh-huh. Now get your shoes on."

And just like that, the plan was back on track.

As long as S7en didn’t pass out before they got there.

The drive was a blur.

S7en shouldn’t have been driving. He knew that.

His vision swam every time he shifted lanes, his hands felt unsteady on the wheel, and every time he blinked, his fever-hazed brain took just a little too long to process what was in front of him.

But if he let Elex drive, that meant questions. That meant attention. That meant a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

So he forced his fingers to grip the wheel tighter, focused on the road like his life depended on it.

Which, honestly, it probably did.

By the time they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, his knuckles were white from how hard he’d been holding on.

Just a little longer.

Except—when they got inside, it all went to hell.

S7en barely processed what the hostess was saying at first, his fever-glazed brain lagging behind reality.

“…I’m really sorry about the mix-up, but unfortunately, we don’t have a reservation under that name.”

S7en blinked. "…What?"

The hostess winced. "It looks like there was an error in our system, and we’re completely booked for the night."

Elex frowned, looking at S7en. "Didn’t you book this, like, a week ago?"

"Yeah," S7en rasped, throat raw, jaw tightening. He turned back to the hostess, forcing himself to stay calm. "So… what’s the wait time?"

She gave an awkward smile.

"About two hours."

S7en nearly laughed out of sheer exhaustion.

Elex sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Welp. Guess we’re going home, then."

And for the first time all day, luck was on S7en’s side.

Because that was exactly what he needed to happen.

He gave the hostess a half-hearted nod before turning back toward the door, shoulders tense, every muscle aching.

Fine. Home it was.

S7en still should not have been driving.

His head was swimming, the world tilting at the edges, but he was too stubborn, too deep into the lie to stop now.

Elex, meanwhile, was perfectly content, reclining in the passenger seat like he hadn’t a single care in the world. "Honestly, I wasn’t that hungry anyway," he mused. "Good call, though. The universe clearly wants me to have homemade pizza instead."

S7en made a noise that might have been agreement, though it came out more like a weak exhale.

His grip on the wheel was tight, too tight, but he didn’t trust himself to loosen his fingers without them shaking.

Then—a problem.

The congestion that had been building behind his eyes all day shifted suddenly, sending a sharp, burning tickle straight through his sinuses.

His breath hitched violently, the urge to sneeze crashing into him like a tidal wave.

No. Not now. Not while driving.

He swallowed hard, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, clenching his jaw so tightly it hurt. His fingers flexed against the wheel, breath quivering, trying desperately to force it back down.

It wasn’t working.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His vision blurred, breath stuttering, but just as his body jerked forward involuntarily, he lunged for the volume knob on the radio, cranking it up just in time.

"Hh’NGXT! K’tshhh!—h’NNgch!"

The pressure made his ears ring, his head throb twice as hard, but Elex didn’t even flinch.

"Okay, why the hell is the music so loud now?"

S7en sniffled subtly, shifting in his seat. "Needed to wake myself up."

Elex huffed a laugh. "Damn. Didn’t know dinner cancellation trauma hit you that hard."

S7en forced a smirk, even as his sinuses screamed in protest. "Devastating."

And then, thankfully, mercifully, they pulled into the apartment lot.

The second the car was in park, S7en let go of the wheel like it had burned him. His fingers were stiff, locked from how tightly he’d been gripping it the whole drive.

Elex stretched, groaning dramatically. "Man, what a weird-ass birthday. Hopefully, the universe has one more surprise left for me."

Yeah.

You have no idea.

S7en forced himself to stand, lungs protesting, vision blurring dangerously for just a moment.

Almost there.

He just had to get inside.

Just a few more steps.

Just a little—

His breath hitched again, and he clenched his jaw, swallowing it down.

Not yet.

Not until he was alone.

S7en barely made it through the door before chaos erupted.

“SURPRISE!”

The apartment exploded with noise—cheering, shouting, laughter—all blending into one deafening wall of sound.

Elex’s reaction was instantaneous.

His fists shot up, body twisting instinctively, already halfway through swinging on whoever had dared to startle him.

For a split second, S7en had a horrifying vision of Freya or Kriia getting decked in the face, but just as Elex’s arm tensed, realization hit.

His narrowed eyes scanned the room, taking in the decorations, the crowd of friends, the drinks already in waiting hands.

Then—he turned to S7en.

That stupid, crooked grin stretched across his face, all sharp teeth and amusement, his previous fight mode already forgotten.

“You little shit,” he muttered, clapping a heavy hand on S7en’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “You actually got me.”

S7en barely held back a grimace at the sudden contact, his body thrumming with exhaustion, but he forced himself to grin through it.

“Told you your birthday instincts were trash,” he rasped, barely audible over the noise.

Elex laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah—okay, you win.”

The moment should have felt like victory.

And in a way, it did.

S7en had done it. The party had come together exactly how he planned, every detail falling into place just as he had imagined.

He had made it.

But as the music turned up, as drinks started passing between hands, as people settled into the celebration, S7en realized—

He still had to survive the rest of the night...

By the time everyone had arrived, the apartment was a perfect mix of chaos and celebration.

Music blasted.
Drinks flowed.
Elex was in his element, soaking up the attention, grinning like an idiot as his friends hyped him up.

S7en stayed near the edges, tucked into the background, letting the night move around him.

Everything felt far away, like he was watching the party from the other side of a glass wall. The fever had dragged him into a dreamlike haze, every noise muffled, every movement just slightly out of sync.

Still, he could see Elex—laughing, teasing, play-fighting with Rexar over some inside joke about "Toad Biscuit" merch.

The night blurred around him—colors bleeding together, laughter twisting into an indistinct hum, the weight of the room pressing down too heavy, too hot, too much.

S7en had spent the entire day pushing forward, ignoring the way his body was crumbling beneath him.

This was the last thing.

Just one more step.

One more task.

Someone called for cake.

The words barely registered, muffled beneath the fever’s grip, but his body moved on instinct.

S7en stepped toward the table, striking a match with trembling fingers.

The tiny flicker of fire blurred before his eyes, swaying unnaturally, and it took him a second too long to realize—it wasn’t the flame that was moving.

It was him.

The floor lurched beneath him like the ground had been ripped out from under his feet.

His chest tightened—seized—refused to expand.

A sharp, deafening ringing filled his ears.

His vision tilted violently, everything twisting into a warped, spinning mess of distorted colors and movement.

Far away—too far away—he could hear Elex’s voice, lighthearted, distracted, still caught up in the conversation, still completely unaware.

S7en tried to step forward—to finish what he started, to keep going, to keep standing—

But his knees buckled.

His breath stuttered dangerously, shallow and weak, his body losing the battle he had forced it to fight all day.

And then—

Elex’s voice sharpened, cut through the fog.

Something in his tone shifted—not joking anymore, not distracted anymore.

Alarm.

Realization.

“Wait—Sven!?”

Elex saw it happening.

But he was too far.

He was on the other side of the room, still surrounded by people, still grinning one second ago, still completely oblivious to just how wrong things were.

Then he turned.

And his stomach dropped.

He saw it—the way S7en swayed violently, the way his fingers slipped, the way his breath hitched in a way that had nothing to do with laughter.

His body was giving out.

Too fast.

Too soon.

Elex moved instantly, shoving through the crowd, but he was too late.

S7en’s body tilted forward, his orange eyes rolling back slightly.

The match slipped from his fingers, flame snuffing out before it even hit the ground.

His legs crumpled.

And before Elex could reach him—before anyone could react—

S7en hit the floor.

S7en drifted somewhere between consciousness and nothingness, floating in the thick, fevered haze of half-awareness. His body felt heavy, his limbs like lead, his chest wrapped in tight, suffocating bands that wouldn’t let him breathe fully.

He could hear voices.

Familiar, but distant—like sound carried through waterlogged fabric, muffled and uneven.

Then, one voice cut through the haze, clear and sharp.

“His blood oxygen was at eighty-one percent when they brought him in.”

That was bad. Even he knew that was bad.

A sigh—low, exasperated, but not surprised.

Elex.

“Geezus fuck,” he muttered, voice strained with something tired, frustrated, guilty.

The other voice—a woman’s—continued speaking, firm but calm, the kind of voice used to dealing with stubborn, repeat offenders.

“He has pretty severe pneumonia," she said, matter-of-fact. "You’re lucky he passed out when he did. If he’d stayed upright much longer, he probably would’ve just stopped breathing entirely.”

S7en didn’t have to see Elex’s face to know exactly what expression he was making.

Jaw clenched.

Hand rubbing over his face.

That rare moment when Elex wasn’t just annoyed, but genuinely upset.

And not at anyone else.

At himself.

S7en could practically hear the weight settle in his voice when he muttered, “…I should’ve noticed.”

The woman—whose voice was familiar in a way that took too much effort to place—sighed through her nose, not unkind, but firm.

"Yeah," she agreed bluntly. "You should have."

A pause.

Then—paper rustling, the sound of something being shifted from one hand to another.

“These are his prescriptions,” she continued. “Antibiotics, steroids, inhalers—we’re trying these this time. Make sure he actually takes them.”

That voice.

The realization hit sluggishly.

ER nurse.

He knew her.

She had been there every time he’d landed himself in this exact same situation.

Enough times to know him by name.

God, that was embarrassing.

Elex sighed again, and S7en could hear the distinct crinkle of the paper bag as he took it from her.

His voice was quieter this time. Tired. Guilty.

“I got it,” he murmured.

Another pause.

Then—her voice softened just slightly.

“Just… be more observant next time, yeah?”

No sharpness now, just gentle warning.

“Could be worse, next time.”

No argument. No defensive retort.

Just the quiet sound of Elex nodding.

S7en wanted to laugh.

If only he had the breath for it.

After a moment, a long, heavy sigh broke through the silence.

Then—the soft creak of a chair being dragged across the tile.

S7en felt more than heard Elex drop into the seat next to his hospital bed, elbows resting on his knees, the weight of exhaustion settling into his frame.

Then came the sound of both hands dragging down his face, a quiet but telling frustration behind it.

S7en almost would’ve gotten away with pretending to still be asleep.

Almost.

Except—his damn ear twitched.

Elex caught it immediately.

"I know you’re awake, dumbass," he muttered, voice low and uncharacteristically gentle.

S7en hesitated.

Then, slowly, he cracked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh fluorescent light overhead. The world swam for a moment before settling, and when his vision finally focused, the first thing he saw was Elex watching him.

Worried. Tired. Like he’d just come back from a war he hadn’t even realized he was fighting.

S7en’s ears flattened instinctively in embarrassment, a quiet flicker of shame settling in his chest.

The room was small, sterile, impersonal—the same goddamn hospital he had spent far too much time in over the years.

And the weight of his failure hit him all at once.

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

A shift in his nose made him suddenly aware of the cannula, delivering pure oxygen to his wasted lungs.

His fingers twitched, reaching up to pull it off, but Elex’s hand was there first—firm but gentle, gripping his forearm.

"Don’t," Elex said softly.

S7en stilled, swallowing hard, ears pinning further against his head.

A beat of silence.

Then, in the same quiet, unusually careful voice, Elex asked,

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

S7en hated how much that question hurt.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Elex. Instead, he dropped his gaze to his lap, claws absently picking at the thin hospital blanket.

"I—" He stopped, voice raw, barely above a whisper. He swallowed, trying again.

"I didn’t want to be the reason your birthday sucked…"

Elex stiffened slightly.

S7en continued, ears still pressed flat, tail curling closer to himself.

"I worked so hard to make it perfect," he muttered, barely breathing the words. "And after everything, we’re still here. Another—" his voice wavered, thick with frustration, "another claustrophobic, shitty little hospital room."

Silence.

S7en braced himself for Elex to be pissed. For the usual snark, sarcasm, maybe even an exasperated rant.

But instead—

Elex sighed, slow and deep, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer than S7en had ever heard it.

"Dude. I don’t give a shit about some stupid party."

S7en blinked, glancing up at him hesitantly.

Elex ran a hand through his messy, dark green hair, shaking his head. "You really think I care about that more than you literally—collapsing in front of me?" His voice wavered slightly, jaw clenching before he forced it back down.

S7en didn't know what to say.

Elex exhaled sharply, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

"I should’ve noticed." The words came out quiet, guilty. "I mean, fuck, you looked awful all day. I just—I was too caught up in my own bullshit to pay attention."

S7en shook his head weakly, ears twitching. "Not your fault."

"Not entirely," Elex agreed, mouth quirking slightly. Then, more serious, "But you’ve gotta stop doing this, man."

S7en swallowed, feeling suddenly very small.

"You don’t have to—I don’t know—carry everything yourself," Elex continued, voice softer now, tired but firm. "It’s okay to tap out sometimes. Party or not."

S7en hesitated.

Then—finally—he met Elex’s gaze.

And what he saw there wasn’t annoyance, or frustration, or the usual bullshit banter.

It was genuine concern.

That made something tighten in his chest in a way that had nothing to do with pneumonia.

The corner of Elex’s mouth twitched into something softer, and after a pause, he added,

"By the way, next time you try to fake being fine, maybe don’t fucking pass out in the middle of a party. Kinda ruins the illusion."

Despite himself, despite everything, S7en huffed a weak, breathless laugh.

"Noted."

Elex rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it.

And for the first time all day, S7en finally let himself relax.

The end 🖤

[holycowboytiger]

(Platonic!) NikPrice x Reader

this thought has been kicking around in my mind for some time now so i decided to let myself ramble

CW: Neglect, child abuse, alcoholism, underage smoking,

Author knows nothing about cars yet writes about them

(Reader is implied to be in their teens and is a little shit at first)

(mostly uneditited and not re read, word vomit if you must)

Imagining Nikolai and Price finally settling down together in some small town, planning to live out the rest of their years in peace, away from the danger- away from everything.

It's quaint, even if it takes a while to get used to, it's a nice coastal town, John always loved the seaside, and Nikolai likes colder weather, this town seemed perfect for the two of them- even if the housewives fill the streets with gossip, and the teens are rowdy, and everyone manages to know everyone's business, it was never too hard to just.. blend in.

Price is scarily good at keeping himself away from the gossip circles, but every once in a while he'll indulge to get a better idea of what the people are like around here, he doesn't care that Mary is getting a divorce, or that Phil is sure that his kid is actually the mailman's, but he does care about whose dangerous, and who could be a threat.

To his relief, whenever he brings up troublemakers, the only name that is spoken of is yours, just some random teen with an attitude that likes to scuffle with other kids and graffiti walls or bridges sometimes.

He figured you were just a stereotypical teen who thinks the world is out to get you, and you'll settle down in a few years, he's sure your parents will straighten you out, he does feel a little bad that grown adults are gossiping about you tho..

''Really they are so disrespectful!''

''Ugh Charlotte I know! My daughter came home smelling.. weed, turns out she was hanging out with them, you best fucking believe I nipped that friendship in the bud''

''with any luck they'll turn out better than that father of theirs, disgraceful''

Ok this was just.. foul- you cant be that bad? You're just a kid..? Shit maybe the world isn't out to get you but this town certainly is.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At home, John opened the door and kicked off his boots, still annoyed with the neighbourhood gossip session.

''John?''

''It's me Nik''

''How'd It go? Make any friends?'' He chuckled, obviously teasing, walking into the hallway with a bottle of beer in his hand

''Think I'd rather go back to active duty before I even consider befriending any of those cunts''

''That bad?'' Nikolai raised his brow before he handed John his beer, watching as John downed the thing in seconds ''They're so.. Judgemental..''

''They've got nothin better to do hun''

John shook his head, moving towards Nikolai and wrapping his arms around his waist, sighing into the crook of his neck ''You weren't there Nik''

He stepped back, letting Nik hold his face ''What is it? Are you ok?''

''I'm fine its just... they seem to have it out for this one kid-''

''Maybe they're a little shit-''

''Nik-''

''I jest- I jest..''

John rambled about everything as Nik led him to the living room, about how they wouldn't let their kids be friends with you, and how weird this one sided beef was with a random teen, Nikolai tried to play devil's advocate for a while before he eventually stopped and let John talk, he knew how it got under his skin, and truthfully, as an ex ''bad kid'' it irked him a little.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months went by and John and Nik had found themselves settling in nicely to the little town, beginning to remember names, and even making some friends at the local pub, but it wasn't so easy when both were very secretive about their life.

People started to talk, which led John to reveal that he's ex special forces, hoping it would calm the chatter, but then came the questions on his wedding ring, and where his wife was, why he lives with Nikolai-

Soon enough he heard rumours of him being a widower that wears his ring for comfort, and Nikolai was his friend from the army.

They weren't completely wrong....... He was married- just not to a woman, and Nikolai was a friend from the army, before he became his husband.

Both men knew that it was best to wait a while before they revealed their marriage, test the waters.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You somehow still made your way into conversation every once in a while, You'd pass by with a cigarette in hand and the insults would fly, and whilst John still felt bad, he slowly started to understand the town, seeing you push past someone without apologising, or walking around with bruised knuckles, glaring at any and everything, you even bumped into John once- and the only thing you uttered was

''Fuckin' watch would you? old man..''

Ok.. so you were a right piece of work, disrespectful and antagonising, and maybe he started to agree with the gossips, maybe.... guilty as he felt, you were a bit of a dick.

And when he found out his house had been egged one night, he didn't doubt it was you..........little shit.

Nikolai laughed at him as he grumbled on ''I told you so..''

''Shut up Nik'' he sighed as Nik kissed his temple ''Disrespectful little-''

''They're a kid John'' Nikolai playfully reminded, and John scoffed, now he understands what its like to be in your 40s and beefing with a teenager.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai didn't hold an opinion on you, you were a little dickhead, and that's all he thought, better to not get so upset over some kid, even after you'd egged his house, he made sure to glare at you when you walked past him, but he was only met with your own, bruised face and all, still staring at him like you knew you could take him down. He was never serious when he looked, it was only an effort to scare you off, to make sure he doesn't find toilet paper littering his garden, but it didn't seem to work...

''Fuck you lookin at? Auditions for grease are that way.'' you scoffed

......ok that was fucking hilarious, fuck you.

He was perplexed, you weren't afraid of him, or John, seems like you feared no one, which was a funny concept, Ex special forces couldn't even make you flinch, what could?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One day, Nikolai was in his driveway, trying to bring an older car back to life, something he'd picked up to keep himself busy, he was always in a trance like state when he was working on cars, like nothing else mattered, but he found his focus being pushed to the side when he heard footsteps approaching the bottom of the garden.

He turned, curiously, and his eyebrow raised when he spotted you, your eyes scanning over the car, not even giving him a second glance,,, its rude to stare you know..

''Can I help you?'' finally, you looked at him

''No. Just looking''

''..Shouldn't you be at school?'' he tilted his head

''didn't go today.'' Of course.

He looked you up and down, noting the bruised knuckles and busted lip, another fight? How many enemies did you have- and how on earth did you make them?

''That a mustang?'' you shifted your gaze back to the car

''It is, 67''

''old ass car.'' You replied, he chuckled

''well I'm an old ass man'' you smiled, looking back to him ''How long have you been trying to bring that hunk of metal back to life?''

''Couple months, I think I'm almost there''

''uh...Can I,, take a look?''

Your gaze shifted to your feet, you and him both knew that you really didn't have a right to ask, you weren't the nicest, but- Nikolai found you entertaining enough, and he figured the worst you could do is mock his hair again..

''come'' he gestured for you to come over, you looked surprised at first, before a small smile made its way to your lips and you walked into the garden, still hesitant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John looked out the window from the kitchen, shocked to see you, sitting against the hood of the car as Nikolai rolled underneath it, he even saw you pass a wrench to him.... how on earth-.......

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2 Weeks flew by, and without fail, every Friday and Saturday, you'd find yourself in their garden helping Nikolai fix up the ''scrap of metal'' with John occasionally coming out to greet you and provide snacks and drinks for the two of you, lingering for just a moment.

Neither of them said anything when you would light a cigarette infront of them, or when you would appear in their garden with busted knuckles, they simply just.. let you be.

They noted that you'd never join them for lunch, but always find excuses to stay later and later, never wanting to go home, and whenever either of them would remark how late it was, your shoulders would drop, and you'd seem upset at the fact that you had to leave.

You'd flinch away from them when they got to close, or get defensive when they'd push too much into your life, but you had no problem prying into theirs, you were quite the spitfire.

But as the 2 weeks turned to 3 Nikolai and John started to grow concerned

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Something else that had entered their routine would be patching you up from time to time, when you would let them close,,

It started after John noticed you could barely pick up a tool for Nik, wincing as your hand closed around the bottom of it, he sighed and gathered ice and some bandages from the first aid kit, and some rubbing alcohol to clean whatever wound you had found yourself with.

He doesn't know how he convinced you to sit down, on the hood of the car, or how he convinced you to let him fix you up in the first place but that doesn't matter.

John had picked up that unless you were glaring or threatening someone, eye contact wasn't something you were good at, and it became significantly clearer now as you stared at your hand guiltily whilst he cleaned and wrapped it wincing every time he was a little too rough...

He's used to hauling injured grown men over his shoulder to get them out of the crossfire or putting half of his body weight onto someone to stop a bleeding gunshot wound, not gently wrapping your smaller bruised hands in bandages, but-

As time went on, he found himself doing it more and more, same question everytime, with the same answer

''What happened?''

''Woke up like this man.''

It frustrated him, but it didn't take a detective to figure it was another fight, he always wondered why you found yourself in them so often,, until one day you actually answered

''What happened?''

''Kids were talking shit...''

''What did you do?''

''Not about me..''

''Well then? Who-''

''You and Nik... called you guys weirdos and.. gay.. and ...stuff I dont remember much after the first swing''

He stopped wrapping your hands to look up at you, his gaze trying to study yours... You always looked half dead, and today was no excuse, as unreadble as ever kid

''A- hah... as much as i appreciate you standing up for me and Nik, i promise you that a few kids calling us gay isnt hurting anyone, I dont want you throwing yourself into fights over us two geezers''

''They said Nik's hair was stupid.... only i can do that''

''MY HAIR IS LOVELY-'' He heard his husbands gruff voice call out from under the car, shit he forgot he was still under there....

———————————————————————————

Admittedly, you were growing on them.. They'd never really had the conversation about kids, they knew they'd be lucky to retire, but now that they actually have, John finds himself,,, longing for some reason, and Nikolai jokes a bit too much about being referred to as someone's ''old man'' down the line, he thinks the title suits him.

And John's habit of picking up strays, and Nikolai's hobby that was fixing broken things.., you seemed like a perfect fit, a feral skittish thing.. you reminded them both of Simon...

You let them both in...slowly, so slow that questions would still burn in their minds..

Why did you never want to go home? Why were you always getting in the scraps and scuffles? You were abrasive and confrontational, like a cornered animal.. but why?

It didn’t take a genius to figure that life at home wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for you, and as the two men got closer to you, they found themselves wanting to pry more and more.

They wanted to shield you, to help you find your way through life, but how could they? They were just two fellas that you fixed cars with on the weekend, neither of them were your father, or in any sort of authoritive role in your life-

Even if that fact reigned true, it didn’t stop you from valuing their opinions.

John told you it was bad to smoke, and despite your glare to his cigar, you stopped smoking as much around them, Nikolai advised you stopped fighting as much with the neighbouring kids, and you showed up at their house with less and less bruises.

They were both happy to know that you listened to them, and you were just happy that they hadn’t thrown you out yet, that they hadn’t got tired of your defensive nature, that they hadn’t yet realised how much of a bad kid you really were.

You were happy that they didn’t know who you really were…. Yet.

As the days flew in, you itched more and more to tell them what was really going on, why you were the way that you were.

And one day you did.. subtly, and you only spoke to Nik, but he was able the piece it together, and soon after you went home, he found himself telling John about his concerns

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It was late, you and Nik were sitting on the grass, staring at the car you’ve spent so long on fixing up, your knees were tucked under your chin and the two of you found yourselves in a comfortable silence, even if you were itching to break it.

“..so you were a pilot?” Your eyes didn’t leave the car, but Nik turned to you, a confused smile on his face

“Yes.. how’d you know?”

“You have a patch on your jacket” you pointed out “my dad has the same one,,, tho he threw it out years ago.”

“Pops also a pilot then 'm assuming?”

“Was…. Helicopter”

“Ahh..” he shouldn’t ask…

“He got into an accident… lost his leg,, couldn’t fly no more”

“That…-“

“Fucking sucks I know” you chuckled dryly “just wish he wasn’t so angry at me about it.”

“Why would… he be angry at you?”

“He says I ruined his life..” you shrugged, still not facing him “Momma left him after he started drinking too much, and he thinks it’s my fault”

Nikolai stayed quiet again, you were finally opening up, and he didn’t want to say something that would cause you to clam up

“He still drinks a lot.. but most of the time I’m lucky and by the time I get home he’s knocked himself out.”

“Most of the time?”

Oh.

Oh.

“Kid- Are you-“

“M’fine.. made it this far, I just need to wait until I’m old enough, I’ll enlist and leave this shithole of a town behind.” You scoffed, now turning to him

You could see the concern written on his face, and the anger that bubbled beneath the surface, he had half the mind to show up at your door and show your old man what it was like to have all of his ribs cracked.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“For what kid?”

“….. for egging your house….. it was a dare….. also for saying you look like you belong in grease…….. and for calling John … old”

he chuckled at your apology, his hand landing on your shoulder, patting you like an old dog

“…. All is forgiven kiddo… come on… it’s getting cold,,,, join me and John for dinner?”

“I can’t -“

“You can stay for dinner Kid, it ain’t no burden to us.”

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Dinner was… nice, you can’t remember the last time someone cooked for you, nor the last time you sat at a table with people and actually.. talked, you don’t remember the last time you acted like…. A kid..

But as the two men shared stories with you, mocked each other, told you of their comrades (with some ridiculous names mind you.. who the fuck is Soap?) and filled your plate, you found yourself relaxing, for the first time in years it felt like you were safe….. even if it was just for now.

(pls im open to more ideas on part two)

[lostinforestbound]

Seducing

Note: I have returned from the depths of my cave to participate in this challenge! It’s still a bit of a WIP but I would love to expand on this idea sometime!

“TAV!”

“What?” Pyxis questions.

Rolan’s had a very, not-so-good long day. Customers shouting at him, potions and scrolls running out of stock, not to mention the messes the elementals make. He even forgot that it was supposed to be…Valentine’s. He’s never celebrated it, never had any reason to. He was too busy caring for Cal and Lia, and no one wanted him. Well, that was until Tav, who practically swept him off his feet. He expected the man to maybe, he doesn’t know, be normal about the holiday? They have a nice dinner with good wine, savory food, and perhaps experiment in the bedroom if they’re not too tired?

Not for the man to where a thin apron in the middle of the kitchen holding some pastries.

Wearing literally nothing underneath it.

“Pyxis what the fuck?!”

“Happy Valentines!” He says cheerfully, “I made beignets.”

Gods, he can feel the heat rising to his face as he sees the outline of Pyxis’ body. He’s a strong man, a big man in more areas than one, and that’s a small apron.

“I— you— put some damn clothes on you fool! My siblings could’ve walked in here! Did you not think?! Did your brain fall out of your ear?!”

“I sent them away! They’re hanging out with Dammon helping out with some project. I think a new crossbow? Besides, I wanted to seduce you. Is it working?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“NO!” He runs a hand down his face, ears burning, practically feeling steam come out of his ears. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Can I not look hot for my boyfriend? Come on, I dressed all pretty.”

“You are naked in my kitchen!”

“Hey, I still have the apron on! I can take it off-“

“Don’t you dare take it off right now.”

He pouts a little but approaches him, giving him the plate of beignets and a kiss on the cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Rolan.”

The tiefling sighs heavily, resigning to the situations and trying one of the sweet treats.

Rolan will admit, they’re really good, but his eyes trail down Pyxis’ body, mind clearly somewhere else. “You’re distracting, and these are very good.”

“Only for you.” The man sing-songs, pressing a kiss to his jaw and neck before pulling away. “And great! I was hoping I didn’t put too much sugar. I made them too sweet last time, right?”

“I felt my teeth actively rotting.” Rolan confirms, putting the plate down as he turns to him, “I could taste it for hours afterwards.”

“Hey, not my fault I have such a sweet tooth. Oh yeah, I got a joke for you: what do you call a very small valentine-“

He’s interrupted when Rolan yanks him down by the apron, teeth clacking against his as he kisses him. Pyxis is very responsive, cupping the back of his head as it deepens further. Rolan’s gotten better at kissing, less clumsy, more confident.

When they pull away, there’s still a string of saliva connecting them. Pyxis completely forgot where that joke was going.

“Bed?” He asks breathlessly.

“Bed.” Rolan answers, removing the straps of the apron and letting it fall to the floor.