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niningtori · 2 days

Text

cruel intentions

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you live your life (un)comfortably in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, chaeyoung. when campus heartthrob, beomgyu, takes an interest in you, you can't help but feel like it's just a way for him to get closer to your beloved best friend. in reality, his intentions are far crueler than that. or, beomgyu agrees to get with the campus' resident dark cloud in order to win a bet with his friend.

genre: romance, angst, campus life, clichés and melodrama (as per uje)

warnings: brief mentions of reader's abusive household, reader has almost comically low self esteem

word count: 7.8k

notes: hi... r u mad at me? i know i've been gone for a month or so and definitely have other projects i've promised to work on, but i've had a lot of personal stuff going on and couldn't focus on anything. i love this trope so much tho and couldn't stop myself from wanting to try my hand at it. i'm not expecting much from this seeing as how it's devoid of any suggestive content, but i figured it'd be better to post it so you all know i'm alive. if people want a part two, i will gladly make one since i really like this trope, but i do want to know if that's the case before i write anything. anyway, i think that's it. enjoy, my lovely friends :^)

you’re okay. you really, really are. you wouldn’t say you’re happy, per se, but things are alright as they are. there are worse things than living in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, whom you love very, very much. chaeyoung is nothing if not dazzling, so much so that everyone falls flatly at her feet in the wake of one of her smiles. you are, as a matter of fact, no exception. chaeyoung has been like a savior from your unstable home life ever since middle school. she has stood up for you when you were too afraid to stand up for yourself and has become more like your family than your family ever was. even so, are you envious of the way that everything seems to go her way? you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t bother you at times, but it becomes more and more bearable every day. besides, you can’t blame her for it; she has no idea that you’re considered as little more than her sidekick and, for lack of a better term, a mob character in the colorful campus life you’ve grown to accept as not your cup of tea.

being chaeyoung’s best friend comes with “perks” such as invites to what would otherwise be completely exclusive parties you wouldn't even dream of being considered for, but you can’t count how many times you’ve been approached with the intent of getting closer to her, so you refrain from any such affairs and opt to focus on your studies and fulltime job. in the beginning, your feelings would be hurt when men you were interested in feigned mutual attraction in hopes that they’d get closer to chaeyoung, but you’ve come to accept things as they are and you’re now known for your flatout rejection of anyone who attempts to woo you.

these past few years, what with your heavy coursework, demanding job, and feelings of inferiority, have been grueling, to be sure, but you’re finally in your last semester and closing act of this entire charade you’ve come to call your college career. in a few months, you'll be a free woman and you’ll be able to begin your life as a fully fledged adult. chaeyoung will remain as your best friend, you know, but you won’t have to be compared to her every second since you two are set on very, very different career paths. life, as it is, feels so small and unvaried to the point of suffocation, but all of that will be over once you’ve entered the post-college workforce. or, at least, you hope it will.

heeseung is lovesick, to put things in the simplest of terms.

“i just don’t see why chaeyoung won’t give me a chance! i really, really like her,” he whines.

“i know,” beomgyu says with a roll of his eyes.

“so why can’t you help me out?” he pouts.

“what the hell am i supposed to do about it?” beomgyu asks with a hint of irritation.

“gyu, you sit next to her and her friend in class! put in a good word for me!” he pleads.

“she’s always talking to that girl, so it’s hard to even say two words to her. you know that.”

heeseung is, again, pouting, but the machinations in his head are firing in overtime as he searches for a solution. suddenly, his face alights as if he’s found the perfect plot. beomgyu’s wariness increases tenfold as he waits to hear whatever fucked up plan heeseung has put together.

“i know! what if you distract her friend so i can actually talk to her? and you can find out what type of guy chaeyoung likes.” he looks so earnest in this moment, but beomgyu cringes at the idea.

“dude, no. that’s fucked up,” he says.

“c’mon, i know you can do it!”

“well, yeah,” beomgyu nods in agreement, “but i’m not pretending to be interested in somebody just so you can fuck her friend. that’s wrong.”

“oh, please, gyu. we all know you’ve done worse.” he’s right. still, beomgyu vehemently disagrees. heeseung, in his desperation, can only think of one way to force him to give in: attack his pride.

“what, are you scared she won’t fall for it?” heeseung teases. “well, i can’t blame you. i heard people calling her the ‘iron maiden’ and that she won’t let anybody near her. why would she fall for you of all people?” beomgyu scoffs at his insolence.

“i could get her if i really wanted to,” he replies. “i just don’t feel like it.”

“sure, whatever. i know you’re just scared she’ll reject the ‘great beomgyu’ and you won’t be able to keep saying you’re the hottest guy on campus.” beomgyu actually rolls his eyes at this.

“i bet you i could get her to fall in love with me by the end of the semester if i really wanted her to,” beomgyu argues petulantly.

“prove it,” heeseung challenges with a raise of his eyebrows. now he’s got him.

“not for free,” beomgyu says with a smirk.

“... fine. what do you want?”

“i want you to pay my half of the rent for the rest of the school year.” heeseung whines in response, but he quickly makes the calculations in his head and decides it’s worth it when he takes into consideration how fucking hot chaeyoung is.

“deal.”

and so it begins.

beomgyu, like most people, hasn’t really paid much attention to you before now. he barely even has an idea of what you look like, to be perfectly honest, but he can immediately figure out who you are just by looking to chaeyoung’s side as she's walking through the classroom door and seeing who’s sticking there. he takes in your features as if he’s seeing you for the first time, and he kind of is, frankly speaking. you’re not nearly as pretty as chaeyoung, and you definitely lack the aura she has, but you’re not bad by any means. your clothes are ill-fitting and your entire demeanor is soaked with an air of exhaustion, but if he looks carefully, it’s not like you’re an eyesore or anything. still, he’s considerably better looking than you are. this should be easy.

“hey,” he says softly in his baritone voice when you slide into your usual seat next to his, chaeyoung sliding in on the other side of you. to his surprise, you say nothing in response.

“hey,” he tries again, a little louder, thinking you just didn’t hear him or something.

“oh. hey,” you say confusedly before turning back to look at chaeyoung and continuing your conversation with her. well, that’s not nothing, he guesses, but heeseung sends him a knowing, goading glance from his seat and beomgyu feels himself growing irritated.

when the professor enters, you turn to face her with a focused face and immediately pull out your pen to begin copying whatever she says down with solemnity.

beomgyu is staring so intently, he’s surprised you don’t feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, but you don’t seem to notice a thing. before long, your professor announces that there will be a final project that will require a partner. chaeyoung excitedly grabs your arm with a grin, to which you answer her with a soft smile of your own.

unluckily for the two of you, your giddiness is short-lived when she pairs chaeyoung with the person sitting on the other side of her, and you are stuck with the boy who randomly greeted you earlier.

“i’m glad we’re partners,” beomgyu says with a smile as soon as the professor is finished relaying the details of the project with the class.

“why?” you blink in confusion.

“‘cause you’re really smart, right? and cute, too,” he chuckles.

“oh, i guess,” you say flatly after a short pause. “when do you want to work on the project?” there is no wavering in your voice when you speak to him, and you look directly in his eyes, which is a far cry from the sweet, trembling voices and shy glances he’s used to. do you not find him attractive or something? no, that can’t be it. he’s everybody’s type.

“i’m free tomorrow after 5. do you want to come to my place?” you tense up, but he keeps pushing. “you know, so there are no distractions?” you’re wary, of course, but you see no hint of sinister ulterior motives. besides, he can’t possibly see you in an impure way, so you agree with a low hum.

“great. i’ll see you then.”

you arrive at his doorstep with your usual exhausted, haphazard look. some part of him thought you might try to doll yourself up to some extent, seeing as how you’re coming to the apartment of the hottest guy on campus and all, but he can sniff out no such effort. your hair is carelessly thrown up and your face is devoid of anything but the barest amount of makeup. your eyes are tired and there’s a permanent crease in your brows. still, he figures that complimenting you is worth a shot.

“hey, you look pretty today,” he says warmly. you do nothing but stare with a withering glance, but the grin never leaves his face.

“hi. where did you want to start?” you ask while following him to his living room and setting your bag on his couch. if he feels slighted by you ignoring his compliment, he doesn’t show it.

“i thought we could review the rubric first and go from there,” he shrugs.

“okay.”

he makes several attempts at small talk, but they go nowhere. you are laser focused on the project and don’t even hesitate to reject any and all advances from him to the point where he’s beginning to grow frustrated. maybe you aren’t called the iron maiden for nothing, but the prospect of having his rent paid for the rest of the year is enough to keep him from giving up. he decides he’ll try a different approach.

“do you want some coffee? you look tired,” he says gently. you’re actually surprised at his observation, and he can tell.

“yes, actually. thank you.”

when he finishes making your coffee, he hands you a mug and you thank him while sporting a shy, grateful smile. momentarily, he’s stunned. he’s never cared enough to look for your smiles, and even if he had, he’d never see them unless you were with chaeyoung, but he realizes you look infinitely prettier while wearing one.

“of course. if you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong? you look really tired lately.”

“i-i’m just working overtime these days. th-thank you for noticing,” you sputter nervously. seriously? his feigned consideration of your personal circumstances is what makes you flustered? well, whatever. he can work with this.

“work is important, but your health is more important. don’t spread yourself too thin.” if your cheeks felt hot before, they’re scorching to the touch now.

“i… i’ll keep that in mind. thanks.”

he doesn't probe much more deeply than that for fear of scaring you away, but you seem to have opened up just a bit in light of his thoughtful words. when you two decide to wrap up for the night, he walks you to his doorway.

“thank you for tonight,” you mumble with another one of your rare smiles.

“you’re welcome,” he replies with a grin.

you’re about to walk through his doorway when you turn back suddenly. before he can ask about it, your next words come tumbling out.

“chaeyoung likes confident men, but not to the point where they’re obnoxious. she hates movie dates because she wants to talk too much during them, but she likes stargazing, preferably with a picnic, too. she won’t text first, but she’ll respond quickly if she likes you back.” he’s stunned into silence and tries to stutter out something to the effect of “i wasn't trying to get you to tell me about her”, but all you do is give a knowing stare and he realizes he’s been caught. you leave his apartment and he’s left reeling. so much for being discreet.

the next time he sees you, he knows he has to apologize, but it isn’t until you meet again for the project that he decides the timing is finally right.

you’re sitting on his couch, scrolling through your laptop as you proofread what you two have written so far when he musters up the courage to say something.

“listen,” he begins cautiously. you lazily look up at him and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

“i… i think i owe you an apology and an explanation. i’m sorry for making you feel like i was just being nice to you so you could tell me about chaeyoung, but i really have no interest in her, i swear.” well, he’s half lying and half telling the truth, but he means it when he says he couldn’t give less of a shit about her. he can’t say he wasn’t just being nice to you in order to get his rent paid, though.

you look confused for a moment, as if you don’t even know what he’s referencing, but realization dawns on your face as you finally remember what he’s talking about.

“oh, it’s okay. it doesn’t bother me, anyway,” you reply with a shrug.

“i’m serious,” he says firmly. “i really have no interest in her. to be honest, i’m interested in someone else at the moment.”

“oh,” you respond flatly, and you turn back to your laptop as if you’re bored and couldn’t care less about the most popular guy on campus actually having feelings for someone, for once. he snaps your laptop shut and you look up at him in surprise.

“i mean it. the person i actually want to get to know more about is you.”

your jaw drops in pure shock.

“m-me? why?” you say, as if you can’t possibly believe that anyone could take a genuine interest in you. for some reason, he feels a pang in his heart at your sheer incredulity. sure, you’re no chaeyoung, but it's not like someone liking you is so rare of an affair as to throw you off kilter like this, right?

“what’s wrong with me wanting to get to know a pretty girl like you?” you scoff and roll your eyes. you know you’re no trophy by any stretch of the imagination, so you have a hard time believing he means a single word.

“yeah, right,” you snort derisively. “the cutest guy on campus has a crush on me. you can’t honestly think i’d fall for that, can you? if you’re trying to flatter me to get me to do this entire project by myself, keep dreaming.” he’s surprised at your insistence. well, you’re not entirely incorrect. his intentions are impure if nothing else, but for some reason, he’s determined to prove you wrong.

“oh, so you think i’m the cutest guy on campus?” he teases with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. as if you didn’t realize you said those words yourself, you look more flustered than you’d care to admit.

“w-well, i —”

“i’ll take it. and no, i’m not trying to get you to carry our grade on this. i genuinely just want to get to know you better.” and he doesn't know how much of that sentiment he really means, but he does know it means more than it should.

after a few more meetups, you’re pretty much convinced that beomgyu truly has no interest in chaeyoung. he never asks about her, and even when you offhandedly comment on her, he never pushes to know more. he just hums in recognition or perfunctorily answers. as for believing that he sincerely has interest in you? you’re not sure you believe that, but when the project is finished within a week and he asks you out on a date, you can’t help but seriously consider this previously inconceivable thought.

“what did you say?!” chaeyoung asks excitedly once you relay that beomgyu, of all people, has asked you to go to dinner with him.

“i said i’d think about it,” you sigh.

“you should go! text him right now and tell him you’re going!”

“i don’t know, chae. you’ve heard the rumors about him. he’s a player…”

“who cares about the past?! i haven’t heard anything like that in a while. plus, it’s worth taking a chance, right? you haven’t been on a date in god knows how long. if you don’t text him, i will!” she exclaims. “gimme your phone, i’ll do it right the fuck now!”

“no!” you counter, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “i… i’ll do it myself,” you mutter.

“that’s my girl,” she says with a sweet grin.

“i feel stupid,” you mumble as chaeyoung applies the finishing touches to your hair.

“well, you don’t look stupid, i’ll tell you that much. you’re absolutely gorgeous,” she boasts.

“as if,” you mutter, but you know she truly believes it. chaeyoung has always argued that you’re beautiful, even though you know that the rest of the world, including you, doesn’t think so.

“i’m being serious!” she says with a playful smack to your shoulder. “you look hot! i bet he’s gonna drool when he sees you.”

“alright, you’re going too far,” you say with a shy smile.

“go! you’re going to be late,” she chastises. you check the time and realize she’s right. you hurriedly grab your things and scramble out the door.

beomgyu offered to pick you up, but you vehemently denied this on account of the restaurant being a 5 minute walk from your apartment. you need the walk to calm your nerves, anyway.

when you enter the restaurant, all bright-eyed and beautiful, beomgyu looks up from his phone in sheer shock. he knew you were actually pretty cute under the exhausted veneer you have permanently placed over you, but he never knew just how stunning you are when you don’t look like life has run you over. you’re actually wearing form-fitting clothes for once, too, and he likes what he sees.

when you lock eyes with him, you actually smile, which you have been doing a lot more lately, and he can’t help but return it with a smile of his own. it’s a little more eager and sincere than he realizes.

“you look gorgeous,” he remarks when you sit down in front of him.

“you’re exaggerating…” you mumble embarrassedly.

“i’m not. you’re stunning.” and he means it.

“th-thank you,” you say, and the air is thick with tension before you clear your throat and ask him if he's already ordered drinks.

the date goes surprisingly smoothly, all filled with laughter and banter. he already knew you were smart, but he realizes how funny you actually are when you’re not so tense. you match his mischievousness with your own and it feels so much like a real date that he forgets why he’s doing this in the first place.

he’s surprised to hear that you’re actually quite interested in music. you share a mutual interest in a lot of bands and you even offer up some recommendations of your own, which he earnestly writes down in his notes app. when he mentions that he actually plays the guitar, your eyes light up in interest.

“will you play for me, someday?” you ask excitedly.

“of course,” he smiles softly. a lot of girls have asked him to play for them, and he has always happily obliged in order to get in their pants, but this time feels… different somehow. like he really just wants to show you how much he loves music and creating his own.

as you leave the restaurant, he grabs your hand and laces it with his. to both of your surprise, you don’t pull away and even let him gently swing your hand back and forth. you actually look like a real couple. you feel like one, too.

dates with beomgyu become a happy, regular occurrence. you’re not necessarily together as of now, but it’s been about a month and you’re genuinely considering something serious with him. he seems to eagerly reciprocate this sentiment if his constant invitations are of any indication.

he suggests walking to the nearest park to sightsee, and you agree before you can even fully consider it. as you walk through the trail and take a seat on a bench in front of the pretty, sparkling pond, he locks eyes with you. you look so beautiful like this, eyes devoid of their usual exhaustion and wariness, replaced by a sense of peace. he can’t help but try his luck and lean down to, hopefully, join your lips with his for the first time. usually, he’d have tried this a lot sooner, but for reasons unknown to him, he’s treated you with a lot more care and reverence than he’s ever treated anyone before. a sudden ringing interrupts the moment, though. you casually take out your phone and all the aforementioned contentment in your eyes flushes out as you see the contact information.

“h-hello?” you say unsteadily as you unlace your hand with his and walk away.

he can’t quite hear what you’re saying from the distance you’re at, but he can see how wound up you are. he tries to be considerate and tune out your conversation, but when he hears you yelling and the person on the other end of the line yelling back, he can’t help but be engrossed. you’re borderline screaming now about something related to money. something about a sibling of yours, maybe. something about how you’re tired of being taken advantage of and how the other person is being unfair. you’re angry, he can tell. indignant, even, but all of that leaves your demeanor when you deflate with insincere apologies and a sense of relenting out of sheer defeat. after the explosive call ends, you walk back to him with the same exhaustion permeating through your bones that he’s become so familiar with. even though you’re dressed and primped so beautifully, nothing can cover the tiredness of your entire person.

“i’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say in a monotone voice.

“o-oh. it’s alright. is… is everything okay?” he tries tentatively.

“yeah,” you say with the most forced smile he’s ever seen.

“do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

you sigh. normally, you would not. normally, you’d brush it off and just call chaeyoung to blow off some steam, but for some reason, you’re so frustrated that you can’t help but want to tell somebody other than chaeyoung because you know you rely too much on her for comfort. as for that somebody being beomgyu, you, for some reason, somewhat trust that he won’t go around telling everyone about your family troubles. you also vaguely feel that he won’t judge you, either.

for his part, beomgyu genuinely seems concerned. he seems like he wants to listen. he’s shown you, in the past month that you’ve known him, that he really does notice when you’re tired and cares enough to ask about you. he tries to cheer you up with coffee and snacks even though you have refused to divulge any of the details of your personal life thus far. what’s the harm in trying to trust him? you feel like you can tell him about this, so you do. and once you do, it’s like you can’t stop.

you tell him all the dirty details of your home life and just how fucked up it is. you tell him about how you’re forced to work a full time job on top of being a full time student to help with your family back at home. it’s not that you mind helping out, but they show you no consideration or care and you’re always left feeling like you’re just there to be their workhorse no matter how many times you tell them that you’re tired. the only time they ever contact you is to try to wring every last penny out of you. your sibling, of course, is the exception, and is the only reason why you keep doing it aside from your unfettered guilt that you were practically born feeling. your need for validation has not sprung from nothing, and it seems like your money is the only way to get it from the people you reluctantly call your family. you don’t delve into details about the abuse you’ve endured, either, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. still, you can't help but love them. you just wish they loved you, too.

when you’re finished speaking, you don’t even realize that you’re crying until beomgyu gingerly wipes your tears away. oh no, you think. you’ve said too much. he’s going to be scared off just like every other guy you’ve told about your emotional baggage. who would want somebody whose life is in shambles? your self esteem is low, your financial circumstances are almost as equally dire, and you have no redeeming qualities you can think of. what have you done?

you hurriedly apologize for your outburst and wipe your tears away in a frenzy.

“s-sorry. just ignore me,” you say with a shaky breath and he can see you folding into yourself.

“why would i ignore you?” he asks, cupping your face. “you haven't done anything wrong. i’m so sorry that you’re being treated this way, and i’m even more sorry that you feel the way you do. you don’t deserve this, you know?”

your eyes snap up to his at his words. does he really mean them? his eyebrows are knitted in concern and he seems like he really does care.

“it’s… it’s okay. i’m fine. i should be used to it by now, but i’m just so, so tired all of the time. i feel like everybody on this planet just wants to use me,” you sob. “everybody besides chaeyoung a-and now, maybe, you,” you admit, grabbing one of the hands that holds your cheek. he feels like he’s been electrocuted as your words resonate in his heart. he is using you. he is planning on throwing you away at his earliest convenience once he’s done with you.

but he’s increasingly unsure if he wants to do that, anymore. with every day that you spend together, he finds himself wanting to soak up every part of you. he wants to know everything about you. your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, and, now, what makes you feel so sad all of the time. he wants to be the one who takes away all of your exhaustion. he wants to be the shoulder you can cry on. he realizes that he never wants to see you sad ever again, and, more than that, he realizes that he’s felt this way for a while. when he began to genuinely care about you, he doesn’t know for sure, but it may have been the moment you told him how to win chaeyoung over as if you never expected anyone to be kind to you for good reasons. he realizes that he’s wanted to prove you wrong and that you’re worth giving a fuck about ever since then.

“sorry if that’s too much,” you say in lieu of his pensive silence, pulling away from his touch, but he pulls you into a tight hug before you can fully separate yourself from him.

“don’t be sorry. i want to hear about these things, if it makes you feel better. i want my girlfriend to trust me,” he says softly.

“your girlfriend?” you ask incredulously.

“well, yeah? i mean, if you want to be, of course,” he says sheepishly.

“of course i do!” you say excitedly. you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. your lips are soft and so, so warm. warmer than anything he’s ever felt before.

it’s a mere month before graduation, and you and beomgyu have been together for a few months now. every day is blissful. he convinces you to relax, and his mere presence is enough to soothe your nerves. the exhaustion that previously hung around you like a curse is pretty much gone and a spark of life has finally entered your countenance. he feels proud when he thinks that he helped put it there.

every time you’re overwhelmed at work, he seems to notice before you do, and he always stops by with a meal because he already knows you forget to eat when you’re stressed. by the same token, you reciprocate this sentiment by showing up to his apartment and helping him through some of his harder coursework with no complaint, even though your workload is considerably heavier. he resists, at first, but you insist on helping as much as you can and you tell him it makes you happy just to help him a fraction of how he’s helped you.

you don’t realize that you’ve helped him just as much. you’ve made him into a better person, unconsciously or not. you’re so considerate of his feelings and always make him feel important no matter how busy you are. he’s never felt this way about anyone or anything before, but he’s so grateful you’ve shown him how much love has to offer. love. he never expected to find it in such an unconventional way, but he knows it when he feels it.

heeseung, for his part, is pretty satisfied. after months of chasing, chaeyoung has finally agreed to go on a date with him. he has promised her a picnic and a night of stargazing, which she happily agreed to. when she tells you about her upcoming date with heeseung, you’re a little surprised. what are the chances that beomgyu’s friend knew what you had suggested to beomgyu when you thought he was interested in chaeyoung? but they’re friends. best friends, even. it’s not shocking to think that if heeseung expressed interest in dating chaeyoung, that beomgyu would share what he knows. you snuff the light of suspicion out with a vengeance. hasn’t beomgyu shown you how much he really cares about you? how could you doubt him like that? you’re a bad girlfriend for even entertaining that thought.

it’s another dreary day in the library for beomgyu. he just wishes you weren’t working so you could hang at his apartment and make out, but he knows you’re swamped with work these days, so it’s all just a fantasy. that doesn’t keep him from indulging in it, though. when heeseung pulls up a chair next to him, he audibly groans.

“what’s with the attitude?” heeseung playfully chastises. beomgyu doesn’t need to rely on his almost preternatural intuition to know that heeseung is over the moon right now.

“oh, i know. you’re thinking about your little girlfriend, aren’t you?” he teases.

“so what if i am?” beomgyu snaps, a little too defensively.

“hey, man, i’m just kidding. you’ve done a great job on bagging her for me. my date with chaeyoung went great, by the way. thanks for asking.” beomgyu just rolls his eyes at heeseung’s obnoxiousness, which, if he recalls correctly, was one of chaeyoung’s turn-offs.

“i’m glad it went well,” beomgyu says sarcastically, devoid of any sincerity.

“for paying your half of the rent for months, it better have! it was worth it, though. so, so worth it.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” a sudden voice cuts in from out of the blue. chaeyoung. oh no.

“n-nothing,” heeseung says hastily, looking like a deer in headlights. beomgyu can only stare with widened eyes — too shocked to do anything else.

“bullshit. you said you paid his rent because he ‘bagged her’ for you. were you talking about who i think you’re talking about?” heeseung rushes to deny it, but she turns her hardened gaze to beomgyu.

“were you fucking talking about who i think you’re talking about?” chaeyoung repeats through gritted teeth. beomgyu feels his heart sinking to his stomach. his whole world has come crashing down around him and he feels like he could just die from the shame. he wishes he could deny it, but her eyes are teeming with a sense of knowing.

“y-yes,” he says softly while breaking eye contact with her and looking at his hands, which he didn’t even know he was wringing. a sudden burst of pain on his cheek tears his gaze away from them, though, as chaeyoung slaps him square across the face.

“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? she trusted you, and you know how hard it is for her to do that. you’re fucking filthy,” she says in rage and disgust. the librarian has now come to investigate the disturbance, but chaeyoung quickly says she’s already on her way out. before she goes, though, she sends one last damning look at beomgyu and leaves her parting words.

“just you fucking wait until i tell her about this, you son of a bitch.”

beomgyu is anxious beyond words. he doesn’t know if he should call you, text you, or show up to your apartment groveling on his knees. he doesn’t have the time to do any of it, however, before he sees a text from you saying that you’re coming over.

when you arrive, that same old tired look you always had before meeting him is there, and it has increased exponentially. gone is the vigor you two had fought so hard to restore. oh no.

he tries to greet you, but you just hold a hand up to stop him in his tracks. you take a seat on the couch and look so tense you could explode at any moment.

“chae already told me, but i want… i need to hear it from you. is it true?” you ask shakily.

“baby, listen, i was—”

“is. it. true?” you repeat impatiently.

“... yes, but i—”

“i see,” you say with a solemn nod and a tight-lipped smile. his mouth feels dry as he waits for you to elaborate, but after a long, long silence, he realizes that’s all you have to say in the face of his deceit. he wishes you would cry, or be angry and yell at him for lying to you. it’s infinitely worse, somehow, to see you accepting it as if it was a matter of course. and, to you, it is. of course he wouldn’t like you — let alone love you. of course it was all a sick, cosmic joke. that’s what you are. this is what you deserve, and you’re an idiot for expecting anything different from him or anyone else.

“well, i guess you’ve won the bet,” you sigh, rising from your seat and smoothing down your skirt. “congratulations.”

his eyes are watery now, but you perceive it as the reaction of a child getting caught doing something he knew was wrong in the first place. you have accepted things with the type of resignation only a truly defeated person would have, and it breaks him more than he ever supposed anything could.

“don’t be sad,” you can’t help but add when you notice his upper lip trembling. “you can smile; i know you want to. now you won’t have to deal with me anymore. i’m sorry for wasting your time.” your words snatch him out of his entranced state and he’s rushing to get his next thoughts out with a desperation he can only describe as primal.

“n-no, that’s not it at all! and don't be sorry! i… i’m the one who’s sorry. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean —”

“it’s okay,” you cut in with a knowing smile, which shatters the last remnants of his heart. “i understand. i really, really do. i know you’re not a bad person. it’s my fault for taking this whole thing too seriously.” your smile is still there, but it has twisted into something truly ironic and teeming with disgust. not toward him, he realizes, but toward yourself. “i should’ve known better.”

he’s rendered speechless once again, but you don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts before walking away, closing the door lightly behind you. what words can he say to you to undo what he’s done? he wishes he could dig out his heart so you’d understand his true intentions. they were ill at first, yes, but they’ve evolved into something different entirely. something so sincere and pure he doesn’t dare to show it to anyone other than you. and you’re so calm about this entire situation, it’s driving him mad. how could you think so lowly of yourself as to see this coming? how could you think his actions were anything less than appalling and cruel? and, oh god, what has he done?

you’re okay. you really, really are. living in the aftermath of what you had foolishly believed was love is painful, to say the very least, but there are worse things, after all. what those things could be, you can’t seem to think of at the moment, but you know they exist even if you don’t have the energy to ponder them at present. chaeyoung, as expected, is more loving than ever. she rarely leaves your side these days. she’s always been clingy, but there is a level of doting and care she reaches without complaint on her part. beomgyu, to his credit, has seemingly taken the hint and fucked off. he doesn’t show up to your shared class and you took the liberty of blocking him on everything you could possibly think of. even it he hadn’t gotten the memo, chaeyoung is by your side like a rabid dog and she will gladly bite if he approaches. you’re grateful for that, you guess. him essentially cutting himself out of your life has made pretending like he never existed much easier. there are still traces of him, though, and they haunt you viciously.

there’s a party celebrating your impending graduation, and you would rather die than go, to be honest, but chaeyoung makes such a convincing argument that you can’t help but relent after hearing her drone on and on about how you deserve to have fun and let loose since your college years are ending and you have yet to fully put yourself out there in terms of student life. you will, in all likelihood (and with any hope), never see most of these people again, so will it kill you to just let go for once? on top of that, it will be a welcome distraction from your downward spiral that inevitably comes when you think of beomgyu.

you don’t really know what you’re doing when it comes to dressing up besides the basics, but chaeyoung knows more than her fair share and is all too willing to doll you up in a way you previously thought was impossible. after her flitting hands while doing your makeup and careful choices in wardrobe, you barely recognize yourself. for once, you feel good. you feel confident. you even almost feel worthy of standing alongside a drop-dead gorgeous girl such as your best friend, so when you enter the door of the house party, you don’t feel as small as can be under the scrutinizing gazes of all the usual party goers. one familiar pair of eyes watches you in awe, though, even if you don’t notice. you’re much too engrossed in the atmosphere of pure fun to recognize anything else.

you’re not really one for dancing — far too awkward and uncoordinated to really try it — so you sit as comfortably as you can on the decidedly uncomfortable couch and sip on what must be your third drink this evening. you’re smiling in contentment at the sight of chaeyoung dancing with her new crush. if you can't be happy, you’ll be satisfied with her happiness, instead. this is how it should be, you think. this is how it always should’ve been.

you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t even turn your head at the feeling of the couch sinking as a boy sits next to you. that is, until he clears his throat and you’re snapping your eyes up to meet his.

“i’m taehyun. i’ve never seen you around before,” he casually remarks. he’s really beautiful, like, fresh off the runway beautiful. you almost wonder if he’s talking to somebody else for a second, but his expectant eye contact with you tells you otherwise. you shyly introduce yourself and mumble something about parties not particularly being your scene.

“really?” he smiles. “that’s a shame. i wish i’d seen you before tonight.” you can’t help but blush. “i’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright.” you’re not so stupid as to fall for a man with honeyed words, at least not again, but you find yourself caring less and less about the repercussions as your head feels foggier and foggier. so what if this is a sick joke? you’re almost out of this hellish purgatory you call school life, anyway. even if taehyun doesn’t end up liking you, what’s the harm in indulging in a little fun while you can? you’re not going to put your heart on the line again — you’re too jaded for that — but maybe you can enjoy his company for what it is, no matter how fleeting it may be. so before you can think any better of it, you agree.

or, at least, you try to, but your sentiment is cut short with a sharp tugging of your arm.

“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you hiss as he leads you to an unfortunate-smelling bathroom.

“i-i need to talk to you,” he replies sheepishly.

“what’s there to talk about?” you ask with a sigh. “i’m not mad at you. i forgive you. so what else do you want from me?” you actually seem a little annoyed, which he has never seen before from you. it causes him to sputter and almost lose his train of thought.

“you know what i want to talk about…” he says meekly.

“oh? the fact that you dated me and said you loved me because of a bet?” you can't help the bitterness that laces its way around the edges of your words.

“yes, it was for a bet, but then it wasn’t about that, anymore. i really did fall for you. i… i love you.”

“i don't believe you.”

“b-but i mean it! how can i make you trust me?” his voice is overrun with desperation, but you quirk your eyebrow at his words.

“you can't make me do anything. i don't know what you're getting out of this, maybe some sick satisfaction that you can pick me back up again at your leisure? maybe you just feel bad for me? whatever it is, i don't care anymore.”

“no! listen to me, i really do care about you! i know i hurt you, but let me be there for you. i… i'll prove to you how much i care. how much i love you.” you're quiet for a long, long time. an excruciatingly long time. you seem to consider every syllable he just uttered, but you don’t seem fazed by his sincere words at all, and he worries he's losing you for good. before he can stop himself, he gently cups your face in his hands and tenderly runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks. you don't push him away and, for that, he’s grateful.

“alright. alright, i do believe you. i believe you love and care about me,” you admit with a sigh. he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding in before he presses his forehead against yours. thank god you believe him. maybe you don’t trust him yet, but he’ll do everything in his power to earn it back.

“i believe you, but it’s not enough,” you say resolutely, grabbing his hands and prying them off of you. his heart sinks and he can’t help but feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

“i forgive you, i really, really do, but you can't treat people however you want and expect things to go back to the way they were just because you’re sorry. i can’t… i won’t accept that.” he winces and he makes no move to stop his tears from falling now, but he bites his lip to stop the whimpers.

“you know me. you know how hard it is for me to… to believe that i’m worth loving.” he flinches at your self-deprecating words and he wishes he could kiss your face and erase any doubts of your worthiness. you are the most lovable person in the world to him. he wants to shake you and demand that you see it, but what right does he have to do so? instead, all he can do is shake his head furiously in denial of your sentiments.

“and everything you said, everything you did, just makes me believe that i’m right about myself. even if you mean it now, i can't get over the fact that it was all a lie from the start. if you love and care about me like you say you do, don’t you think i deserve better than that? better than having to be reminded that the person i love the most in this world only chose me because he wanted to get his rent paid?”

“i’m… i’m so sorry,” he repeats with a whine. “i wish i could go back in time and redo everything.”

“but you can’t,” you say softly, and he whines again, like an animal.

“i promise… i promise that i really love you, okay? and i’ll wait for as long as i have to for you to see that,” he says between sobs. you can’t help but feel sorry for him. you’ve seen beomgyu cry from stress, but never from the pure, unadulterated amount of pain he’s feeling as of now. you almost want to acquiesce and let him have his way, but you can’t do that. you don’t have much dignity to speak of, but even you can’t tolerate a betrayal this sizable. maybe, before you met him, you would have, but ironically enough, his presence has taught you that you should never compromise yourself like that for anyone. not even for the one you love the most.

“thank you, beomie,” you say softly, “but i don’t want you to wait for me. i want you to be happy, okay?” you ask as you stand on your tiptoes and press a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “and i’ll try to be happy, too.” without waiting for an answer, you leave the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“i don’t want to be happy if it’s not with you,” he mumbles bitterly, but you’re too far away to hear it.

notes pt. 2: is this cheesy? YES. do i care? ONLY A LITTLE BIT. anyway like i said lmk if u want a part two <3

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @zzhyuu @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @defnotleee @midwinterblizzard

*if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist or my taglist for the (maybe) upcoming next part, lmk!

#niningtori #cruel intentions #beomgyu angst #txt angst #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #txt fic

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f1-jay · 2 days

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Anything for you - Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: After a breakup you go to live with your bestfriend since childhood who helps you through it.

Warnings: Fluff (I guess), Little bit of angst, cheating (mentioned) & breakup

Word count: 2.1k

Note: The start feels like I might have yapped a bit too much so... Sorry 'bout that!

You had just gotten out of a pretty shitty relationship; two years turned to nothing so quickly, all because he cheated. A few years ago, Oscar introduced you to Dean, a Moto3 rookie, at some motorsport gala, and not long after you started dating him. Then, several months into the relationship, you moved away from friends and family to live with him, and most weekends you were supporting him at his races, studying in between sessions.

You woke up one morning and saw multiple accounts tagging you in a post from one of those WAG pages. Normally you don't look at them because of the fake drama, but you were curious with so many mentions. You open Instagram to see a few pictures of your boyfriend kissing another woman; your heart drops and your eyes welled. A nauseous feeling slowly took over; it's like time was frozen. All you could do was stare at the images, your mouth slightly agape.

You weren't the type to jump to conclusions, so you decided you would talk to Dean about it. What if the woman was drunk and the paps just happened to get a shot? He could have pushed her away, not even a second later. You get yourself ready for the day and wait for him to get home from a meeting. At around 11 a.m., the door opens, and he enters. You’re sitting on the couch with the photos on your phone. You ask him to take a seat, and he does, asking you what’s up.

“Is there anything you want to tell me about last night? Something that happened? Whether on purpose or even by accident or forced by someone else.” You are careful not to accuse him of cheating right off the bat because your heart couldn’t accept that he would do that. His eyes quickly darted away from yours, and that sinking feeling returned. The guilt was written all over his face. “So, not an accident, then." Your voice was hushed, like if you were to speak louder, it would feel too real. “Was it a one-time thing or-?”

“Two months” He replied, cutting you off. His eyes came back to you, forced to face the look of heartbreak in your eyes, the few tears that had already rolled down your cheeks, and the way your bottom lip quivered like it would anytime you were trying not to cry. He would normally hold you and tell you to let it out—that he’s got you and it’s all going to be okay. Now he could only watch.

“I really hope that she’s worth it. I hope you two have a great life.” You get up from the couch and head to the bedroom, pulling your suitcases out of the closet and onto the bed. The sound of his footsteps gets closer, and then they stop. Hw just stands by the door, swaying back and forth, trying to think of what to say.

“Come on, Y/n. Please." You don’t look at him at first, grabbing some of your clothes.

“Come on, what?” You then look at him and shrug. Your voice is still soft. “You just admitted to me that you’ve been cheating for two months. That's literally you saying, ‘I want you to break up with me’ so if for some reason that wasn't clear. Dean, we are done, and I never want to see you again.” You continue packing, starting with clothes, then shoes, hair, and makeup products, choosing to leave behind knickknacks you had bought on your adventures, as most of them would only be memories with him. Dean found himself following you around, pleading with you to stay and apologising, then he would leave you alone for a while before starting again.

“Just do what any other person would do in this situation: yell, scream, and hit me. Do you actually even care that we are breaking up?”

“Let’s not ask stupid questions, okay? You don’t even deserve to be yelled at. Why would I waste my time and energy and stay here even one minute longer than I have to? Nothing I say will change what you did; there’s no point. I can tell by the look on your face that you know you fucked up, and that’s enough for me.” You explain, packing your last couple of things into a backpack. You place the key on the table before grabbing your suitcases and leaving, ordering an Uber to the airport.

The ride took about three quarters of an hour; in that time, you called your best friend, asking if you could stay with them, and booked the next flight out. It was a rush to get through security and to your gate, where they had already started boarding, but you got there and two and a half hours later you were landing in France, then catching the train into Monaco. When you get off the train, you look around the semi-busy platform and walk towards a less crowded area when you finally see him.

“Oscar!” You run to him as fast as you can while lugging two suitcases and a backpack. He pulls you into a hug, which you quickly reciprocate. “Thank you so much.”

“No worries” He takes your suitcases, and you walk to his car. Ten minutes later, you’re out front of his apartment complex. Once you're in, you see that he's already set up the spare room for you. You decide to take a shower, and as soon as you step in, you break down, full-body shaking sobs. The weight of everything finally crashing down on you. When you get out, you go to the kitchen to find Oscar cooking for you both.

Over dinner you catch up, talking about anything but the main thing. Oscar knew that you'd talk about it when you were ready. The evening was spent watching a movie and just sitting in each other's company. When you eventually turn in for the night, you can't sleep. At about 2 a.m., you're in the kitchen grabbing a drink when the light turns on. You look over and see Oscar leaning against the wall.

“Sorry if I woke you” you apologise.

“It’s okay. Can’t sleep?” He wanders further into the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass.

“Hmm, yeah” You both stand in silence for a bit until a small chuckle comes from Oscar. You look at him. “What?”

“I have an idea.” He takes your hand and takes you to his room. “It will be just like when we were kids and you’d climb into my bed when you couldn’t sleep. It was always the solution; you’d be asleep minutes later.” You just stand and stare at him.

“Seriously?” you ask with a small giggle.

“Come on, if you're not asleep by the time I’m asleep, you’re free to leave.”

“Fine” You both get into his bed; the warmth of him besides you already makes you feel comfortable and more relaxed. In the end, it didn’t take long to drift off to sleep, only aware of the fact that you must have slept when you woke up in the morning. You roll over to see Oscar still beside you, sitting up against the headboard, looking at something on his phone, then looking at you with that stupid grin.

“I told you so” He says playfully.

“Yeah, Yeah. Whatever” you push him gently and cover your face with the quilt.

The next couple of weeks were tough. You had told Oscar all about what had happened. You had cried an unimaginable amount of times, then felt so angry that you were even feeling sad. Dean had officially entered a new relationship, which sent you into another spiral. Your emotions were all over the place, and Oscar had somehow gracefully dealt with anything you threw his way verbally (and once physically).

During that time, Oscar had gone to Belgium for the GP, but he made sure to text and facetime you when he could. After that, it was their summer break, and he opted to cancel whatever plans he had to spend it with you. You genuinely have a lot of fun, you haven’t spent time like that together for a while.

One of his original plans he was still going to do was attend his aunt’s wedding. It was taking place back home in Australia. About a week out from him leaving, Oscar came to you and placed a piece of paper in front of you. You picked it up and saw it was a plane ticket. He’s looking down at you with a big smile.

“We’re going home.”

“I love you." It’s all you say as you stand up and hug him. You were close with your family, and it had been way too long since you had seen them.

Only a few days later, you were packed and at the airport, ready to start your nearly twenty-two-hour journey. You kept entertained by watching some movies together, a little bit of gaming and sleeping when you could. Then finally, you were landing in Melbourne. You landed late at night, so you went and got settled at your hotel. The following days, you caught up with your own and each other's families. You had already told Oscar you wouldn't be going to the wedding. The day before the event, Oscar came to your room.

“Come with me to the wedding.”

“Osc, I’ve already told you I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“What? You told me two reasons. One, you don’t know how you would feel celebrating love after what you just went through. Take it as an opportunity to see a love you’ll find in the future, and the second was about the party atmosphere? We don’t have to stay all night; whenever you’re done, we’ll leave.”

“And ruin your night? I promise I’m okay with not going.”

“I want you there.”

“Why are you like this?” you jokingly ask.

“Is that a yes?” He smiles at you and tilts his head slightly.

“It’s a ‘We’ll see’” He seems to accept that answer for now. As he walks away, he calls out that you only have today to think about it. You go to him later in the day and tell him that you will go, then you start planning what you’ll wear, how to do your hair, etc.

The next morning, you get up and get ready. Oscar calls out from the living room that you should be leaving soon, so you apply your lipstick and join him.

“So, How do I look?” You give him a little twirl.

“With your eyes” he says jokingly but in an ‘obviously’ tone. You keep the same joking mood and flip him off before heading back towards your room. He quickly follows you and spins you to face him. “You look fantastic. I like the choice of earrings."

“You mean the ones you bought me?”

“What can I say” he shrugs. “I have good taste." You shake your head at him. You both then head out and drive to the venue; the ceremony is beautiful. After that, the two of you kill some time before the reception. The food is great, and the company is lovely.

Eventually the dancing started with some slow songs; Oscar stood up and held his hand out.

“C’mon, at least one dance." You place your hand in his and walk to the dance floor. His hands move to your waist, and yours clasp together behind his neck. You softly sway to the music. He lifts your hand above your head and twirls you around. When you're facing him again, your eyes lock, and his hand falls to the small of your back. It felt like a moment from a movie where everything else fades away; it's just you and him. You can feel the tension, but you can't act on it. You lean forward and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, I can't do anything about us. At least not yet.”

“It's okay,” He says, understanding. “I wouldn't ask you to." You continue to hold each other close in silence until the song fades out. “Do you want to get some air?” You nod, and both head out to the balcony that overlooks the ocean.

The sound of people below echo through the streets and the crashing of the waves against the shore is soft. You look over at Oscar who is already admiring you. You step to the side, closer to him, and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you… for everything. You've been my saviour this past month” You lift your hand next to his which is resting on the balustrade. He flip his hand, waiting for you to place yours in his hold and when you do your fingers lock around each other.

“I'd do anything for you” He gently squeezes your hand.

~~~

I could write a part 2 if y'all want but 🤷‍♀️. Let me know I guess.

#oscar piastri fic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #oscar piastri x reader

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poem-i-wish-i-wrote · 2 days

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Thought we kissed goodbye, right for you and I

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader Summery: Just because it's over doesn't mean it's really over and If you think it's over maybe he'll be coming over again. Yes i just used the song lyrics to summarize the fic, what about it? warnings: mention of alcohol

It’s been 7 months now. The wounds are closing you think. You don’t think of him nearly as much as you used to. Only when you wake up and when you open the contacts in your phone and when you pass through the streets and when you stay up late. Nearly not as much as before.

You were in your living room. Lying on your sofa with a glass of wine in one hand and your phone on the other. It’s 2 am. The bottle of wine you popped open earlier in the night is only quarter full now. You're scrolling through what seems like a thousand posts about your ex.

Charles won the Monaco grand prix today. You were unbelievably happy for him. All the photos of him on the race track, the photos of him on the podium in front of his home crowd, you know how much he wanted this. You couldn’t be more proud of him. But there’s still a knot in your stomach from wishing you could be there to cheer for him, wishing you could tell him what a great job he did or you could celebrate it with him. But you couldn’t.

7 months ago you kissed him goodbye with tears in your eyes. The breakup was mutual. You both realized it might not work in the long run. You both had different lifestyles and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. It hurt. But you let go, thinking it was the best for both of you. Now you let your phone slip from your hand. And sip on the wine again. Maybe you could call him to congratulate?

You brush the thought off. You weren’t sure if he would even pick up. And you didn’t want to ruin his night of victory. You stare at the black screen of your phone there on the tea table longingly.

Then to your utter disbelieve the screen of your phone lit up with his name on it. You jump off the couch. You dreamed of this happening every minute in the past 7 months. But now that it’s happening you don’t know what to do.

__________________________________________________________

Charles was at a club. Celebrating his win with his team and some other drivers, his brothers and friends. He was unbelievably happy to finally win a race in his hometown. But in the blinding light of the club and the beat of the music thumping in his chest he could not shake off the feeling that something was missing.

He knew exactly what was missing. He's been thinking about it for months, 7 to be exact. He turns to where Arthur and Carlos were drinking saying that he’ll be back in a minute before walking out with his phone in his hand. With the influence of the alcohol heavy on his mind, he dialed her number before even realizing what he was doing.

He let it ring a few times. Desperately wishing she would pick up. Right when he was about to give up the call went through. He could hear breathing on the other line.

“Y/n? Are you there?” It felt incredibly freeing to say her name again.

______________________________________________________________

You held the phone with both hands as you pressed it harder against your ears, closing your eyes when you heard him say your name.

“Hey” you say a few seconds later, it comes out shaky.

“Hi” you hear from the other side. The mixture of wine and hearing his voice after so longs makes you feel dizzy.

“Congratulations on the big win. I’m so happy for you” You managed to get out.

“ Thanks.” He replies, not quite sure what he should say next.

“You should have been there. I really wished you were there” You hear him continue making you sink back on the couch. Your chest was hurting.

Charles didn’t know where he was going with this phone call. All he knows is that he misses you too much to stay away. And the alcohol in his system was giving him the little courage he needed to say all the things he wished to say so many times before.

“ I really wish you were there. It broke my heart not seeing you in the crowd. You always said I could do it. You were always there to pick me up at my worst times. It doesn't feel right not to have you by my side at my best.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I wish I was there to cheer you on too.”

“Mon Cheri, Please give me one more chance. I don’t want to do this without you. I will make it work this time. But please, I can’t stay away from you anymore.” He blurts out. He can feel his eyes burn up.

On the other side of the phone you're already tearing up. You spend months wishing for another chance to go back. All you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and sob for days.

“Y/n? Please.” His voice came pleading.

“I don’t wanna be away from you either.” You manage to say. He can tell you're crying.

“Believe me my love, let me back in and I’m never leaving ever again.” 20 mins later, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door and as soon as it swung open his lip crashed into your. His arms snaked around your waste. You could taste the alcohol in his lips, he on yours.

You stood there kissing messily until you couldn't breath. When you both pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed as you breathed heavy, nose touching.

“I missed you so much, I’m never letting you go again.” he whispered against your lips.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 #formula one #ferrari f1 #ferrari boys

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minniesmutt · 2 days

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𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

♱ ━━━ PAIRING: OT8 X READER ♱ ━━━ CW: PREGNANCY MENTIONS, BLOOD MENTIONS, GANGBANG, ORAL (F. & M. REC), FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAMPIE, CUM EATING, MARKING, BREAST PLAY, SPIT ROAST, DOUBLE PENETRATION, ANAL + VAGINAL PENETRATIONS ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.2K

It took some getting used to. Being a vampire. But Y/n was glad she had eight partners to show her the ropes. She was ever so grateful to her Kingdom for putting aside their distaste towards the eight when they heard they had saved and taken care of their Queen. The church still fussed every now and then but the nine handled it. She’d earned the nickname “The Eternal Queen” after some time on the throne. After she was crowned, she had her father’s advisors arrested and now could have her own court. What better than asking the men who showed her love?

They all accepted with a smile and many people from their town moved to join her kingdom. The land the vampires ruled just became a part of her kingdom. No one there caused any trouble with the queen ruling. Even helped ease the minds of others.

Three years of her reign thus far and without someone breathing down her neck and reprimanding her for the decisions she made, the kingdom was prospering like years past. One thing she found a little too hectic was how fast her two children had been growing.

It was a month later after her coronation, she ended up pregnant again. None of them played guess the father—though Minho was very much pushing for it to be his after what happened last time. Chan explained that it was common for fledglings born of two vampires to grow quickly but he did not classify how quickly. Y/n reprimanded him later when she gave birth to the group’s baby girl about four and a half months later.

Even though she was all of their baby, there was no doubt it was Felix who was her biological father. The little girl was the spitting image of him. All the men cooed at the new princess and her little fangs.

“I gather she’ll drink blood rather than milk,” Hwan asked. The maid had chosen to come work in the castle with a few other staff members from the manor. A few chose to stay behind to just keep it clean if the nine chose to come back for whatever reason.

“I suppose so,” Y/n smiled as the boys handed her her daughter.

“You feel alright?” Chan asked as he brushed her hair back.

“Bit hungry,” Y/n replied

“I’ll go grab some blood,” Hwan said, leaving the family to be for a while.

Medical staff had already left and Hwan was tending to Y/n now. The boys insisted they could do it but really the girl missed the royal. Y/n missed her too honestly.

Even though she had gone through the process before, giving birth to her second baby wasn’t much better. It was easier though. Their son was seemingly the spitting image of Chan, just like her daughter was of Felix.

“It’s a boy,” their daughter, Nabi, pointed out. It had only been two years since she was born but she looked about double her age now.

“You have a baby brother now,” Jeongin said as Nabi sat on his lap.

“I wanted a sister,” She complained

“Doesn’t quite work like that princess,” Hwan reminded the little girl “It should.”

“She’s just like you when you were a child,” one of the older maids from the castle said as she helped the younger clean up.

Y/n loved her two children, just didn’t love how they were growing up. Chan had made it a point to get her as well as their children, day rings. The kids having to constantly get new ones with how they were growing. Chan assured her it would slow down but she wasn’t quite sure.

On top of the eight being her advisors, they had all gotten married. Everyone made a deal about having eight kings but the vampires assured them not all of them would take the throne. They decided, mostly given status, that Chan would publicly appear as the king but he was really more of an advisor. Letting her make all the decisions. Stood behind her when she had to make addresses. Uncalled for in their time but so was their relationship.

“Darling,” Jisung said as he walked into her study. She’d been working all day on a few trade routes needing to be up and she hadn’t realized how much time really passed.

“Hi, love.” She greeted him as he walked over to her desk.

“Kids are asleep. You should rest too,” He said, pulling the papers and fountain pen out of her hand

“Ji, we both know I don’t need sleep anymore.” Y/n sighed

“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean overworking. Come on,” Jisung pulled her up out of the chair.

“Ji,” Y/n whined

“Y/n,” The male returned the energy.

Y/n pouted at him only for him to laugh and wrap his arms around her. “I’m not making you rest love. We have a surprise in the bedroom though.”

“Mhm, what kind of surprise?” Y/n inquired

“You’ll have to see,” Jisung bent down and picked her up.

Y/n smiled and held onto his shoulders. Jisung carried her out of her study and into their room. The seven others waiting for them as they entered the room.

Once inside the room, Jisung put her on the ground and attached his lips to hers.

“Really Jisung?” Minho questioned the vampire's eagerness

“I carried her here. I think it’s fair I get first kisses. Plus if it wasn’t for me, none of this would be in this relationship.” The two bickered as Hyunjin came up behind her and kissed the side of her neck.

“Hi pretty,” He said as he pulled her away from the vampire's arms.

“Hi Hyun,” Y/n smiled, as she turned to face him. The rest gathered around slowly. Making sure everyone got their kisses after not seeing much of her for the day.

While Felix had her lips locked with his Changbin worked on unlacing her dress and undergarments. The boys worked to undress her completely before undressing themselves and pulling her to the large bed. Jeongin sat back with her on his lap. Y/n pressed her lips into his before he turned her around, her back against his chest. Seungmin kneeled next to them and pressed his lips onto hers whilst Jeongin attacked her neck. Both their hands spread her legs open.

Jisung took the chance to get back between her legs and lay on the bed between her spread legs. Jisung placed his hands on the inside of her thighs as his tongue lapped up the small bit of arousal that had started dripping out of her. Y/n moaned into Seungmins mouth before he pulled away and moved his lips down to her breasts. Hyunjin took the chance to connect his lips to hers as Jisung was making out with her cunt. Hyunjin’s tongue pushed into her and explored before pulling away and smiling at her. Y/n grabbed his thigh as Hyunjin sat up again. Her hand moved up and wrapped around her dick, pumping him before he took it upon himself to move closer and push himself inside of her mouth.

Y/n moaned around him as the other three toyed with her. The others waiting for their own turn. Hyunjin moved his hips and pushed himself into her throat as she moaned with each bit of stimulation they were giving her. She felt two fingers prod at her entrance, moaning as they entered her and Hyunjin spilled into her.

Y/n took his load before he pulled out and watched her swallow his load. Hyunjin moved away and Felix took the chance to replace him as she clenched around the fingers inside her. Seungmin marked up her breasts while Jeongin marked her neck. Both keeping her spread open and Jeongins free hand playing with the breasts Seungmin wasn’t marking.

It wasn't much longer till she came on Jisung’s fingers and he licked her completely clean. Y/n whined as he pulled away from her, Minho taking his place between her legs. Tip of his dick teasing her and making her whine around Felix. His cock twitching as Minho pushed into her. He took hold of her thighs, freeing the other's hands.

Minho let her adjust to him as Felix spilled down her throat before pulling out. Her head fell back onto Jeongin's shoulder as he lifted his head. “Doing so good love. Just let us take care of you,” Jeongin whispered in her ear.

“Want more,” Y/n begged

“Need another cock in you darling?” Minho teased as he slowly thrusted in and out of her

“Yes. Wan’ be filled with you all.” If they weren’t hard before, they definitely were after hearing that.

Jeongin slipped one of his fingers into her mouth and Y/n sucked the finger till he pulled out with a pop. He got his hand between her and Minho and slowly pushed his finger inside her. Y/n moaned before Seungmin sat up and turned her head to him and pushed his cock down her throat, watching her eyes roll back slightly. Jeongin fingered her ass slowly as Minho brought his fingers down to rub her clit as he slowly thrusted his dick in and out of her.

Jeongin slowly added another finger into her and spread her open from below. Y/n pulled away from Seungmin’s cock to beg the man below to put his cock in. Ever the ones to please their wife, Minho stopped his movement and allowed Jeongin to spread his precum around the hole and then slowly slip inside.

“Fuck,” Y/n moaned before taking her husband’s cock into her mouth again.

Jeongin moved slowly till he was fully sheathed inside of her. Giving her some time to adjust before moving with Minho inside of her. The two started slowly but she already was close to the edge of being completely filled.

Her body went limp with pleasure as she moaned and clenched around them. Minho and Jeongin both picked up their pace as Minho started toying with her clit again. Tipping her over the edge. The men groaned as she clenched around them. Jeongin spilled inside her first.

Shoving himself deep in her ass and coating her walls with his come. Seungmin moved his hips faster till he came in her throat. Minho fucked her harder before his cum spilled in her while Jeongin and Seungmin pulled out of her.

Minho pulled out as Jisung moved under her. His dick teased her ass before slipping in. Changbin took Minhos place and pushed his cock into her cunt. His hands held her open as Jisung moved his hands to grope her breasts as Chan offered his cock to her mouth.

Y/n took him into her mouth and sucked him off as the two fucked the other's cum back into her. Chan held the back of her head as he thrusted into her mouth. Her moans were muffled by his cock.

Her holes were being stretched and used but Y/n loved it. Loved them. Never has she regretted offering to play prisoner those years ago. Especially now as the three filled her more.

Each of them pushed deep into her as their cum mixed with the loads inside her as her own orgasm came again. The three pulled out and Hyunjin took Changbin’s spot. Laying back on the bed so she was on top. Felix took Jisungs place and the two slowly pushed into her. Y/n moaned as the two held her up and started pounding into her.

Strings of curses falling free from her mouth if there wasn’t a cock to keep her quiet now. Her hands were loosely planted on Hyunjins chest as the two pumped into her.

She’d only taken them all one other time, their wedding night. She somehow forgot how they were able to make her forget everything she’d ever thought about. Their hands roamed over her body, making her feel weightless. Knowing just where to touch her to get her to melt.

Felix’s hand grabbed her breasts as Hyunjin moved her hips with them. Her orgasm washed over before she knew it and the two emptied their loads in her. She blanked for the rest of the night. Tired from work and taking all eight of their cocks. Waking up in the morning with Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix cuddling here.

“Passed out last night. We cleaned you up and tucked you in.” Felix explained.

“Not too much last night?” Hyunjin asked, kissing her shoulder

“No. Just been a while since we’ve all done it.” Y/n assured them

Y/n took the day to herself. Staying bed with her husbands, the eight coming and going at random, and her two children when they pleased. more often wanting to play in the garden with their dads.

It wasn’t long till she found out she was pregnant again. the family and kingdom being excited once more. Her daughter and son arguing over whether it is a boy or a girl.

Like the last two pregnancies, her husband’s took on a lot of her responsibilities so she could rest. And when the baby wanted to come out, all eight were there for her while Hwan took care of the two children.

Nabi was pleased to know she finally had a sister. But no one was happier than Minho. All nine parents knew when they looked at their little girl's big round eyes that she was his. He about refused to let anyone else hold her until Nabi and Minseok asked if they could hold the baby. Minho couldn’t say no to his kids.

♱ ━━━ PREV SERIES M.LIST NEXT

♱ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

♱ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

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vivid-dreamscapes · 2 days

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Tw; Sexual mentions, cursing, undressing in front of him Themes; Light angst, comfort, insecurity Summery; You feel insecure and anxious about boring your boyfriend, and he reassures you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After a tiring yet fun day at the vacation beach house your were staying at with the bakusquad, you had finished a nice, long shower with your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou.

Bakugou was now sitting on his bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, leaning against the headboard as he looked over at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, also only clad in a towel as you looked for something on the ground. “You know where you even put your clothes?”

“In my bag, but I tripped over it and now they’re spewed about.” You said before smirking. “Aha! Found it!” You grabbed some clothes and made a few outfits on the bed. “Alright. Now you pick.”

Bakugou looked down at the different outfits you had laid out on the bed before looking back at you with a small smirk. “Oh I get to pick now? Why don’t I just leave you naked for the rest of the day? That sounds nice.” He said, a hint of suggestion in his tone, not so subtly covering up a more teasing hint.

“Katsuki!”

Bakugou chuckled at your protest—squeal of flusteredness? Or just an irritated squeal?—and rolled his eyes. He had obviously been messing with you, but he definitely would have preferred to leave you without any clothes.

He let out a small huff before finally looking over the clothing options again and taking a good look at them. “Tch, fine I pick. How about this one?” He said, pointing to the outfit on the far right.

“Alright bet.” You said, dropping the towel to get dressed in front of him shamelessly.

His eyes widened a bit, a small blush forming on his face as he looked at the now fully exposed version of you in front of him. “Damn, just gonna drop the towel like that, huh?” He said, his eyes unable to tear away from you.

“I’m not gonna move to a closet or some shit.” You said simply, getting dressed. You had a point. “I would only do that if I didn’t want you to see me naked. And you’ve already seen that so many times.”

Bakugou huffed a bit, he knew you had a point. But that didn’t mean it didn’t affect him each time he saw you drop your towel or be naked in front of him. “Well, yeah I know that, but couldn’t you at least give me a warning?” He said, watching as you began getting dressed in the outfit he picked out.

“Think of this as a way of entertaining you.” You said jokingly, sticking my tongue out at him before pausing. “…So you don’t get bored of me.” You mumbled to yourself quietly, pulling on the last bit of clothes.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at you when you very obviously purposefully mumbled something quite enough so that he couldn’t hear fully what you said exactly. Yet he still heard it. Because of course he did. “Hah? What was that last thing you said?” He questioned, now looking at you in curiosity. He had heard it, but wanted to know if you’d tell him anyways.

“…if you ever get bored of me?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise when he heard what you repeat your previous statement, his expression shifting a hint of annoyance to a slight surprise. He had been hoping he’d hear you wrong, but that was proven to be wishful thinking. He knew for a fact that he would never get bored of you, how could he?

“Who said I’d ever get bored of you?” He said, trying to keep his tone from changing too much, and showing a hint of a slight annoyance.

“I dunno. You just might.”

Bakugou huffed at that answer, now rolling his eyes and giving you a small glare. “As if I could ever get bored of you.” He said bluntly, now giving you a firm look. Did you honestly think that he could just get bored of being with you? He was in love with you.

“People say that and still get bored.” You said with a shrug, sitting down in front of our room’s mirror.

You sighed and started going through your usual skincare routine after a shower—an extremely simple one, but still.

The blonde looked at you with a slightly bewildered and frustrated expression as you shrugged and sat down to start you usual skincare routine. He sighed and rolled his eyes before walking over to you.

“Tch, well I’m not like other people, am I?” He said, now standing behind you and looking down at you while you sat in front of the mirror.

“Well…” You looked down as you unscrewed the lid of your moisturizer cream. “…no.” You said after a moment, looking back up at him in the mirror. “But still. What if you get tired seeing the same face, and eating the same pussy/dick?”

Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at that, an amused small smirk tugging at his lips as you met his gaze in the mirror. “I’ve had the same explosions for years, and you don’t seem to be getting tired of them.” He said, his voice a hint lower as he crouched down behind you, leaning closer against your back.

“Well…” You paused in thought before looking up at him, open moisturizer still in your hand. “Your quirk isn’t the same thing as my dick/pussy!” You said defensively as he almost snorted in amusement, taking the skincare product out of your hand gently.

Bakugou snickered softly against your ear at your defensive response, now grabbing the moisturizer from your hand gently and starting to rub a bit onto his fingers.

“Oh trust me, I know. Believe me.” He mumbled in a deep voice, his body now leaning against your back, his breath hot and warm against your ear and neck.

“Then why compare them…?”

You asked and he chuckled silently against your neck as he began to rub the moisturizer onto your skin, his calloused hands gentle and firm at the same time as they worked.

“Because they have something in common.” He mumbled, bringing his hands down a bit lower as he began to rub the moisturizer on your shoulders and collarbones, now planting a few kisses on the nape of your neck and your shoulders.

“Psh, like what?” You asked, squirming slightly with a smirk and an eye roll.

He was definitely enjoying the reaction as he continued to kiss along you skin, now working his way onto your collarbones as he answered your question.

“It’s simple. They’re both my favorite things.” He stated bluntly, his words spoken against your skin.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #angst #insecurity

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heavenlyvision · 2 days

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neglectful pairing: bi-han/reader wc: 2.2k warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, grinding, ab riding, (little bit) dirty talk, general filth, (little bit) mean bi-han, afab!reader, no use of y/n or pronouns a/n; i mentioned this offhandedly in the server the other day ages ago and i decided to follow through :D i got a little lazy with it though SORRY MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

An idea had struck you, a fun one at that! You just… had no idea how you were going to bring it up to Bi-Han. It’s not as if he would say no, you don’t think anyways, you’re just a little hesitant because he’s so… well, mean isn’t the best way to describe it but you don’t really have a better word for his attitude. Teasing maybe?

That and he’s been especially busy lately, barely giving you time together long enough to have a conversation, let alone be intimate. It’s something that’s been bothering you for a bit now but you have been ignoring. Today is supposed to be a relatively easy day for him though, so you’re hoping you’ll be able to relieve some tension.

He’s busy currently, meeting with Liu Kang at Wu-Shi academy, he brought you along because you had asked, you like seeing everyone here and Liu Kang is someone you’ve grown fond of. Though, you don’t mention that to Bi-Han, he isn’t fond of his situation and you’d rather not upset him by mentioning how you consider the fire God a friend. It’s a little dramatic of him to be so bothered by his standing but you understand that he wants more for himself and the Lin Kuei, you just don’t think it’s such a big deal.

You’re waiting for him in a courtyard, you’re not particularly interested in hearing what they have to speak about today, Bi-Han will probably grumble about it later anyways. Mostly you came for a change of scenery, it’s nice here, you feel a little at peace, a clear head. If you asked Bi-Han he probably wouldn’t feel the same way… you wonder where he feels most at peace.

You jump at the sudden sound of Bi-Han’s voice, “How many times have I told you to pay attention to your surroundings?”

Turning your head, you look back at him, his arms are crossed while he looks down at you from behind the bench you’re sitting on, “It’s fine to zone out a little bit here though…” you look forwards, “I just got a little lost in thought, and it’s not fair to say I don’t pay attention when you’re trained to be silent, how am I ever meant to know you’re there.”

“I wasn’t trying to be stealthy; you need to be more aware,” he grumbles.

You sigh at him, “Don’t scold me when I was having such a nice day.”

“I would have nicer days if I didn’t have to worry about you,” he rounds the bench and sits next to you.

“You’d worry even if I were as competent as you are,” you side-eye him.

He sneers lightly, “I might worry less.”

“You need to lighten up more, I like it here,” you lean back against the bench and smile easily at him. He doesn’t speak, just continues to scowl, so you add, “I was wondering where you feel most at peace.”

“Next to you,” he says it simply like it isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve been told, his expression neutral. You don’t even get to process it properly before he moves on, “We’re going home now,” and just like that, he’s standing up and waiting for you to do the same.

“You’re feeling cute today,” you observe as you stand and tip your head onto his shoulder for a moment.

He shoots back, “I’ll show you cute when we get home.”

“Ah and just like that… you ruined it,” you shake your head like you’re disappointed.

He hums at you, knowing better.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Sadly, Bi-Han got dragged off as soon as you got home, right as you were looking forward to his suggestive promise. You also haven’t forgotten what you wanted to try but now you’re sat in your shared bed, hours later, with your arms crossed, face scrunched in annoyance at how needed he seems to be.

Who cares that he’s the grandmaster? First and foremost, he is your partner and he had implied sex when you got home, only to have ‘duties’ to attend to. How dare he, honestly. The thought to just get yourself off and go to bed early crosses your mind but it wouldn’t be the same.

It’s not until later that he comes back, you’re already tucked in and trying to sleep when he’s pottering around the room getting ready for bed. You ignore him, feeling annoyed with him, not for any good reason really. Just feeling a little neglected today, it’s rare that you get to have him to yourself and his words this afternoon had gotten your hopes up.

The bed dips behind you as he gets under the covers, one of his hands reaching out for you and pulling your back to his front. His breath on your ear, “I know you’re awake.”

Astute bastard, “I’m not.”

He grunts and tugs you closer, “You’re mad at me.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he huffs, “I can tell when you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” he opens his mouth but you speak over him, “I’m annoyed, there is a difference.”

His face nuzzles into your neck, words murmured into your skin, “Why are you annoyed?”

“You know why,” you sigh at him, “It feels like we never get much time together anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he asks, “Is this because you’re sexually frustrated?”

You almost choke, feeling personally targeted, “I am not sexually frustrated.”

“So, you don’t want me to make you cum right now?” His hand moves from your hip and travels to your front, large and splayed out against your stomach. Slowly inching lower and lower, fingertips just slipping into your pyjama pants.

“This won’t make me forget that I’m annoyed at you–” your breath hitches as his hand slips lower, deftly dipping under the waist band of your panties.

He affirms, “’Course not.” His fingers glide through your folds, he groans at the slick coating them, his mind very quickly wandering away from the conversation you were just having, “You sure you’re not sexually frustrated?”

“Shut –hah– up,” you’re struggling with words, having not been touched by him like this in a while. You’re trying to angle your hips just right but he’s purposefully avoiding the place you want him most.

He hums from behind you, “I’ve been awful neglectful…” Pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek, “…I’ll make up for it right now.”

Suddenly, you remember what had been on your mind, gasping out, “Wait, fuck– wait.”

His hand stills on you immediately, fingers holding still over your pulsing clit, it has you whimpering pathetically. It must be taking you too long to explain why you stopped him because he pulls his hand back and delivers a swift slap to your pussy. It jolts you, biting back another whine.

“Fuck– I just need a moment to think,” you’re struggling to remember yourself, already so embarrassingly worked up.

Looking over you, he speaks, “Have I really been that negligent?”

Frowning, you remove his hand from you and nudge him onto his back. Shuffling yourself so you’re straddling him, “I had plans, you know? Something new.”

His eyebrow quirks at you, “Oh?”

“I wanted to ride–”

“–Well, that’s hardly new.”

Glaring at him, you finish, “I didn’t say what I wanted to ride.”

That piques his interest, “Where?”

Reaching your hand out, you rest it over his stomach, or more accurately, his abs. Feeling shy as you imply your intentions, too embarrassed to admit what you want out loud. Looking away from the smug expression etching its way onto his features, you could do without the teasing.

Seemingly sensing your hesitance, he takes mercy on you – or maybe pity – tone not teasing as he says, “Alright, undress for me then.”

Taking the opening, you get off the bed to undress properly, returning to Bi-Han – now shirtless – waiting for you. All too eager to satisfy you this way, suddenly aware of how desperate he is to see you get off on him, literally.

Straddling him again, you hover your core over his abs, tentative in your approach. Pulling back at the last second to voice concern to Bi-Han, wondering if he’s okay with this, if you should be careful but he’s not interested and his hands grab your hips harshly, tugging you to just sit on him.

The slick of your pussy pooling on him, wet and hot and numbing his brain. Had it really been that long since he got to have you? How long has it been? He was semi-joking about you being sexually frustrated but as you sit on his abs and squirm, leaking, hot and so fucking obscene on him, he can’t help but feel guilty at the realisation of how needy you are for any form of friction.

He doesn’t realise he’s holding you still so firmly until you call his name weakly, pleading with him to let you move, needing the pleasure it will bring.

“Fuck– Go on,” he mumbles, nearly apologising as his grip loosens on you.

Immediately, you’re rutting down onto his abs, careful in how you move but less tentative. Feeling so good as your cunt drags over the ridges of his abs, clit grinding into him, hole clenching around nothing. Been so desperate for too long and now you get to rub all over him, slick coating his skin, leaving behind a wet sheen.

Your hands dig into his pecs, nails probably leaving behind little crescent marks, and if you draw blood or pierce skin then Bi-Han doesn’t give anything away. Too focused on your sloppy pussy fluttering on his muscles to take any notice. Obsessed with the little noises you’re letting out and the scrunched-up expression you’re wearing.

It’s sticky and obscene, making you somewhat self-conscious even as you continue to ride him like this. When you start slowing down, his hands grip you again, aiding you, dragging you back and forth.

His abs tense under you and your arms falter slightly, like they might give in, mouth dropping open with a moan. Eyes hazy as you look at him, his own eyes all blown out and locked onto where you’re rutting down into him.

Bi-Han’s own desperation is clawing up his spine as he watches you intently, realising now just how much he’s missed you. His large hands gripping your thighs firmly, marks will probably be left behind from where his bruising grip has been. Something he doesn’t mind at all.

His cock twitches at the way you’re panting, eyes soft and dazed as you continue to rub your cunt all over him. Thinking to himself that if he were any lesser of a man, he might’ve already blown his load from watching you.

It feels good, almost too good, so much friction, his hands holding you and helping you along. He’s usually so verbal in bed but suddenly lost for words and too focused on just watching. Your hips are starting to stutter, pace jerky as you get closer and closer, mostly being helped along by Bi-Han now.

The pace you had set now becoming difficult to keep up with, “Bi-Han–”

“Keep going, doing so fucking good for me,” his words are rushed, wanting to see you finish like this, needing you to cum like this.

“I don’t know if I can–”

“–Shh no, you can, already are,” his words are soft, a complete contrast to how he’s holding and moving you. Almost like you’re a doll to him, manhandling you until you cum for him.

Your nails dig harshly into his skin as your orgasm suddenly wracks through your body, cum pooling on his skin, smearing as he continues to grind you down into him. Not stopping even as you struggle to move, orgasm seizing your muscles slightly. Only really able to moan and paw at his skin.

He’s cursing under his breath, something you’re not entirely conscious of. Huffing and trying to catch your breath. Whining at him, trying to convey that he’s overstimulating you. He understands and stops, letting you sit on him, hands only resting against you instead of tightly holding and manoeuvring.

When he does move you, he’s only pushing you further down his body, wanting to see the mess you left behind. So incredibly wet and lewd, borderline depraved in the way his fingers move through it. Pulling back and holding them up, shining from the minimal light in the room.

It’s debauched and embarrassing and as you go to say as much, he slips those fingers into your open mouth. Pushing down on your tongue, forcing you to be quiet.

“Perfect, did a perfect job for me…” his fingers push back more, making you drool slightly, spit slipping from the corners of your mouth as you take his fingers, “…Always so messy, and I mean that as a compliment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, his compliments always so crude but effective nonetheless. He pulls his hand pack, watching your lips suck as his fingers leave your mouth, wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

His eyes are sharp when he looks at your fucked out expression, “We’re not done.”

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

#bi han x reader #bi han x reader smut #subzero x reader #subzero x reader smut #subzero smut #bi han smut #visions blurb #mk1 smut #mk1 2023

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flyingcakeee · 20 hours

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Quite frankly, I'm tired of F1 social media admins, both F1 itself and teams, as well as F1 journalists and content creators with big platforms.

Firstly, for teams and official accounts, you should NEVER be unprofessional to such an extent that you are using literal chosen ship names in your captions, weird nicknames, or be posting bashful content without reason.

You are supposed to be representing the "Pinnacle of Motorsports" yet you post shit like this for engagement. It is okay if you post funny haha clips, but this is severely unprofessional and even inappropriate at times. I want to narrow down specifically Red Bull's Threads account. It is very VERY unprofessional and I genuinely thought it was a fan account that somehow got a badge but no, it is the actual account. Posting THAT when Lance's contract was renewed is super unprofessional, it would have been 100x better if you didn't even acknowledge it, you never even acknowledged Pierre's. On top, using a driver who is known to be close to Lance for that picture? Just fucking weird.

Content creators and big name platforms have this same issue too.

I'm sure we all have heart of Rocket Powered Mohawk or whatever that man's name was or the Red Flags Podcast, both which use their platforms to shame on drivers. (Said screenshot is in reference to Lance Stroll).

Funnily enough, we ALL know about what David Coulthard said about Logan incorrectly when trying to blame him for a rather minor incident regarding a parking job when it was in fact not his car, and FEW have heard of what Crofty said about Logan. Unfortunately, Sky Sports does this a lot and constantly has a bias, in fact most F1 broadcasts do and you're safest bet is F1TV which is extremely expensive.

Or when a reporter asks a very clearly inappropriate question such as "how do you feel being the slowest driver" to a driver, that is literally so fucking unprofessional that they better be praising god they didn't get a snarky comment from the driver in response.

By the way, this goes for drivers as well, using their platforms to slam a driver.

This incident in particular not only caused many people to rally behind Lance but also caused many to support Bianca for something so tone deaf and horrible that I can never support her personally.

This doesn't go out for drivers personal accounts specifically, especially when it shows off their personality (take Tsolov's 'cringy' video which not only introduced us to him but showed us that he was a kid or take Fernando's TikTok as a whole and there's plenty more examples), but when shit like this or that happens, it is super discouraging to even be a fan of this sport. Not to mention that for everyone mentioned above, they now have free reign to shame on any driver through their likes as Twitter made it private.

I get marketing yourself or your team or your sport or whatever out to people who aren't apart of your community, but you are very much pushing them or your actual fans away a lot. You lose fans who don't want to associate themselves with you anymore because you were unprofessional. I've found and blocked many content creators because how absolutely disgusting the comments they made were, and the sad truth is, it's only a handful of drivers who receive this on most occasions, but it's not limited to any driver and EVERY driver can or will receive it.

It's harmful and disgusting and disrespectful to those individuals and yet you post things like this and wonder why some drivers don't use the internet as often.

(P.S., Lance has been interacting at fanzones a lot this year, he had to step away because he was getting hate.)

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hayatoseyepatch · 17 hours

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Description: You thought you’d never see him again, hoped to start again fresh after leaving. But fate had other plans when you see those familiar blues staring into yours once more. Pairing: Ex Boyfriend!Endo x Reader, Slight Suo x Reader (If you squint) Word Count: 2.1k (woo this one was much longer than I expected) Tags: Ex-Boyfriend!Endo, manga spoilers, toxic Endo, ANGST, toxic relationships, mentions of blood and bruises, mentions of violence, stalking, sort of hurt no comfort, did I say Angst?

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a/n: I really don’t know where this came from. I have so many feelings ab Endo, pretty mixed but I left the ending pretty open. But I hope you enjoy this angsty little Endo piece.

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It had been years since you had last seen him, but his frame, crouched on the rooftop in the redlight district was one you would never forget. Those dark tousled waves that you used to run your fingers through as he laid his head on your chest. Those striking blue eyes that you used to gaze into with so much love, now icy as they locked with your own wide ones. The unmistakable tattoos that littered his skin, the same ones you could, and have, spent hours tracing the outlines of between tender kisses and declarations of love between the sheets. No looking nothing more than warning labels that decorated his skin. His eyes finally breaking contact with yours, lips curled into a smirk as he turned his attention to Sakura. Suo, ever the perceptive one, sensing the tension in the air pushed you behind him next to Nirei taking a protective stance over you both.

You stood there, frozen, feet feeling like lead as everyone moved around you. Despite having fought against Gravel with no issue, this was different. Dread creeping like ice in your veins as you watched your newfound friends engage Endo. Nirei not able to do much in a fight, stayed back with you, his hand taking yours to provide comfort upon seeing your tense form. Ready to run with you if need be. Suo was the one to make the first move, trying to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, you debated stopping him. You weren’t sure why, were you trying to warn them about what you knew he was capable of? Or was it that even after all this time you didn’t want to see Endo get hurt. Upon his retreat, those blues bore into yours, an underlying promise that this would not be the last time your paths crossed.

As you all went to the restaurant after the encounter you hung towards the back of the crowd, giving Tsubaki a reassuring smile one that didn’t reach your eyes when he had asked if your were okay. Letting him go ahead to check with the others. They didn’t know, you never told them, despite knowing that Endo was once a part of Bofurin, you never told them that you both had dated. Hoping that this day wouldn’t come, that you would look into those eyes again. You and Endo had never been perfect, things intense from the start. You were no angel, that you knew. Your fighting prowess curated by Endo himself after having met during a gang fight. He asked you to join him, and you were so taken by him that you agreed. Falling for Endo was easy, he had this charisma about him that drug you in. But the once sweet taste on your tongue that he left behind turned bitter. He kept returning with bruises covering his skin, dried blood crusted over from a split lip. Injuries you knew weren’t from a brawl from the smile that curled his lips. You knew they were from him.

Chika had always been a tender spot in your relationship, you never understood Endo’s devotion to the stone cold man. Endo would do anything for Chika, anything he wanted, Endo would somehow obtain for him. Despite this, you allowed it, standing by while Endo did whatever it took to make him happy, even if he was hurting him. Even if he never cared for Endo the way he cared for him. It hurt to see him like this, it hurt knowing that he allowed him to hurt him like this. And despite everything, looking back on it, you think you knew even then if given the choice Endo would choose him. The countless nights spent arguing over him. Begging Endo to see he was bending over backwards for a man who couldn’t care less if he lived or died. He would run himself ragged for a man who was actively hurting him. You remember your last moments with endo vividly, the moment carved into your brain. You had finally had enough, after patching Endo up for the umpteenth time you realized you couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t stand by while you watched him be hurt. You gave him a choice, deep down you were hoping he would choose you. But in your heart you knew, knew that Chika came before all else.

So you left, unable to watch him continue to allow him to hurt him, or even worse. Maybe truly deep down it was because you knew that maybe his devotion ran deeper than you wanted to admit. Maybe you were always just his second choice. The aftermath was hard, but you remembered the disdain in which he spoke of Bofurin, a gang that had devoted itself to the protection of their town. You figured there was a good a place as any to mend your broken heart. You hadn’t been there long, but the time you spent there already meant so much to you. They welcomed you in with open arms, finding friends in the rag-tag group of classmates. You didn’t want to lose that, you didn’t want.. You were pulled from your thoughts by a gentle hand on your back. Suo’s signature smile planted on his face, but a knowing expression in his eyes.

“You know, I just got this tea from Italy, it seems like a nice brew to sit down and talk over a cup of. That is, if there was anything someone wanted to talk about.” His smile softened, the hand he placed on your back offering comfort. An offer to listen if you needed to talk. You offered him a tight lipped smile, one full of gratitude. “Is that so?” You returned his smile, unaware of the gaze that lingered on you both as you followed the others into the restaurant. The following days were a whirlwind, a declaration of war, one posted by none other than Endo himself had Bofurin in a tizzy. Taking a deep breath as you approached Umemiya. You told him, told him about your relationship with Endo. Tears in your eyes as you asked him for forgiveness about not speaking up sooner, that you didn’t want to leave but you would understand if he didn’t want you to stay. But in true fashion, he ruffled you hair and told you that you were a part of them. A part of their family, and to just “leave it up to your big brother.”

The fight was fastly approaching, you had veered off from the group walking home the night before ready for the day ahead, one you were sure wouldn’t be easy. You weren’t sure why but you felt uneasy on your walk home, it want until you were in the safety of your apartment that you saw a figure sat on your couch, turning on the lamp, there he was as if no time had past. As if he belonged in the space you had created for yourself. All he did was grin, eyes boring into your own. “There you are princess, I was wondering when you’d be coming home.” He spoke his voice laced with faux concern. You clicked your teeth, how could he act as if he belonged here, as if he wasn’t the one who chose someone else over you? Biting back your words holding venom to the man you once loved. “I’m surprised Chika lets you wander off leash.” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, despite the hammering in your chest. Hating the way he still looked so beautiful even after all the hurt he caused you. “What do you want Endo?”

He lifts an eyebrow, a smirk barely covering a grimace. “Oh you wound me, dove. So its Endo now? What happened to me being your Yamato?” He says, placing a hand on his chest to emphasize his words. He gets up from the couch, approaching you in long strides. His finger comes up to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers, pressing a kiss against it. “Come on angel, when are you going to be done with this little tantrum, hm? We both know you don’t belong here.” He dips his head low, lips pressing against your skin, his breaths fanning against your skin as he speaks. “Come home with me baby, I miss you, they don’t care about you the way I do. They don’t know you like I do, cant make you feel the way I do.” You were taken aback at his audacity. His lips continuing to graze your skin, you willed your body to move, but you were frozen. Trying desperately to not react to his actions, swallowing a whimper that threatened to bubble up in the back of your throat. “is this about your little boyfriend?” You blinked unaware of what he was even talking about, your lips parting to retort, only to be cut off as he continues to speak.

“Let me ask you this, dove, has eyepatch taken you on a date before he ruined you hm?” He stepped closer to your frame caging you between himself and wall. “Did he get to share a sweet kiss with those lips before he had you on all fours begging for his name? Did he even get to know you first before coming into bed with you or are you a little toy for him to play with? He doesn’t love you, doesn’t care about you like I do angel.” Your eyes blew wide at his words. “What’re are you talking about? We never.. he never.. I-“ you were cut off once more at a harsh bite he made against your skin. His hands trail up your sides tongue gliding across the column of your throat. “He cant make you feel the way I do baby, cant make you cry out his name like you did mine as you beg for more.” That was the final straw, he could speak about you all he wanted, but you wouldn’t let him bad mouth Suo. Maybe you knew you were developing feelings for him, he made you feel safe. Made you feel cared for, and you were not about to let him speak ill of him. Pushing him off of you, your eyes fixed in a glare as you gazed back at him.

“Don’t you dare, Endo, you do not get to come in here and pretend like you didn’t break me, like me leaving was just a fucking tantrum.” You spat, tears collecting at your lashes as you spoke with him. “I left because I wouldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take you letting Chika beat the shit out of you. I couldn’t continue to stand by as I watched you give him the world and get thanked in bruises Yamato.” His gaze hardened now that he was brought up, going on the defense as he always did. Starting the launch into defenses of him. You laugh bitterly tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “There it goes, god forbid I talk about your precious Chika. Do you know how many fucking times I had to patch you up because of him? How many times I worried what he would do to you next? How many nights I stayed up in tears hoping that you open your fucking eyes and see it was me? That I was the one that loved you? I was the one by your side? I was the one who would do anything for you.” You finally level him with a look, shoulders slumping in defeat. Sobs wracking your frame and tears not stopping. “You know what I fucking wanted when I left?” You laugh, the sound coming out watery from your tears. “I wanted you to fight, not fight with me, but fight for us. Fight for me. But you didn’t. You didn’t even try. I just.. wish it was me you had picked.” You level him with a look, it almost looked like regret that painted his features. He reached a hand out hesitantly, watching your arms come up to wrap around yourself in a form of self soothing. “Dove, hey, listen..” It was your turn to cut him off, steeling your expression.

“No Yamato, you need to leave. I loved you, more than words could possibly say, but you made your choice and now I’m making mine. I’ll see you tomorrow. On different sides, Bofurin is my home now.” You think back to your classmates, the ones who welcomed you in with open arms, who still wanted you even after you told them about your past. You thought about Suo and the kindness he has shown you. The warmth of his smile and the way he made you feel like he would always choose you first. And the next words that fell from your lips made Endo’s eyes widen, expression filling with acceptance knowing in that moment there was nothing he could say or do to change your mind, though your voice still wobbly with tears as you gazed into those eyes you once loved. “Anyone past this point who causes pain, who brings destruction, who holds evil in their heart, will be purged by Bofurin without exception.”

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OKAY, this one was kinda a rollercoaster ngl. I was feelin some angsty feelings, this man just gets me in my feels. Not too sure how I feel about the ending, but regardless I hope you enjoyed and

#windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x you #endo x reader #yamato endo x reader #wind breaker fluff #windbreaker #windbreaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker anime #endo yamato #yamato endo #wind breaker #windbreaker imagines

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jjkfanatik · 2 days

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Pablo Martin Páez Gavira x Reader

Summary: You find out that the guy you have been going out with has been lying about who he really is. How did you guys even meet, what were his reasons and thoughts and will your relationship remain?

Warnings: grammar issues, brief and light mention of drinking, other than that it’s pretty fluffy.

A/n: Hello Ladies! This is the first time i ever wrote something with the intention to post it. Feel free to give me some tips on how to better my writing, as long as you are kind. Keep in mind that english is not my first language. I hope you guys enjoy this. 🤗

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He knew he shouldn’t have lied about who he really is, but that one little lie came out of him before he could even think about it and now what is he supposed to do! Should he just run away and tell you the truth after those two weeks of such nice dates he is almost convinced that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Run away and block you as soon as he gets home, yeah thats whats going on inside his head standing still and silently in front of you.

Does he even want to leave you? No, of course not. He wants to get to know you even better and continue all those dates and show you what you really mean to him.

can you really blame him tho? football players often don’t have the best reputation, pablo would never want you to think of him as arrogant or a player, or -even worse- an arrogant player. But you found out and now he needs to fix it bevor he never gets the chance to talk to you again.

“Um… your name is pablo right? Not actually Martin…”You asked, again seeing as he stood there not even blinking an eye, after you just asked him the first time, standing infront of your dorm room door.

keeping a soft voice and trying not to look too angry while asking the question that has been on your mind ever since he picked you up to take a walk and later on eat a sweet treat. Understandably you were angry, after finding out about his, real identity you could say, you have been nothing but thinking about why he would hide it.

Many emotions swirled through your body. Anger, disappointment and sadness. Feeling stupid for not having known him and needing your friend to look at you like you have grown to heads when you told her about this Martin guy and later showing her a picture of him “well thats pablo gavi” she told you. Thinking so much about it had you starting to form some self doubt, quickly shoving those thoughts away before they got to serious. Getting the idea that he may had gotten a wrong impression on you when you first meet him, causing him to lie but why would he then ask for your number and later on take you on really amazing dates where he had been nothing but a total sweetheart, nothing made sense anymore.

Bringing you flowers which seem like so much thought had been put into picking each and every single flower in there, holding every door open for you and making sure that you were nothing but comfortable and content during each and every second of the day. You guys had meet due to a really good Friend you had made during your first week here at university, Sira Martínez is her name. Having moved from a foreign country to peruse your dream, i had not been easy to make many -really any- friends since every student has their friendgroup and being pretty hostile when someone tried to come to close for their liking. When you had meet her in the community bathroom crying about her boyfriend beeing injured and not knowing how to help you could just not leave her there. Sitting there for more than two hours and talking about various things, both of you knew that a new bond was just formed.

After your first exam Sira had been trying to talk you to come clubbing with her, adding that you should “loosen up or else you wont find a boyfriend ever” and after hours of her sticking to your side like gum and telling you how both of you could even go into the vip section of that club because her boyfriend is known by the locals and many more, you agreed just so she would give you some peace.

Thats how you found yourself in a way to fancy club in the even fancier vip lounge all alone sipping on some cold beverage thats to expensive for its bad taste. Your gaze is set on Sira and her man laughing und danzing like there is no tomorrow. Your eyes sometimes shift to this one guy standing there with his friends conversing. Something about him just seems to draw your attention on him. Maybe its the way the purple light shines on his face, even a couple of meters away you can tell hes got those birthmarks on his really, really handsome face.

A scream shifts your attention to the other side of the club. Just some girl having had to much to drink. You want to turn around again and get back to observing that guy. But hes sitting right beside you. Jumping a little you look at your hands on the table holding an overpriced and not so good tasting beverage. Thank god its on the house -again Siras boyfriend- your bracing yourself because your sure your about to get told off for looking like some creep. But that never came instead; “I like your dress.”

And thats how you hit it of talking about how the club does not suite both of y’all’s taste and you would have much rather been invited to a more closed of, private and chill get together.

Never would you have expected him to lie about who he really is.

“I didnt want you making assumptions about me im not a bad person just bc i play football, im a nice guy you know that. I just thought that you would rather give me a chance being just me.” His eyes never meeting yours

“Your cute and kind Pablo, i like that about you and your fist name is nice, it fits you better”

Inching closer together and standing a bit on your tippie toes to fully reach his face

Pablos and your lips met in a soft and short kiss which had soon been intensified by Pablo’s hands that pulled you two closer together. His fingers caressed your cheeks. Even after parting from your lips they stayed right there providing you warmth and comfort You both stood there for a couple of seconds just smiling at each other, like some silly in love teens, which to be honest you guys kinda really are.

As you both then backed up a little bit. You wanted to make sure that nothing about your relationship -if you could call it that- had changed. “ so will you pick me up tomorrow? we should go on a date you as pablo and me as me.” I see his eyes get a bit wide wondering if he really thought that I would be so mad at him to not want to see him again my heart breaks a little thinking of that.

My stream of thoughts soon gets interrupted as he answers me. “Yeah! Definitely i will come straight after practice, don’t worry really!” His answer is a bit rushed. He seems excited. At least i hope he is. “Just make sure to not come smelly” we both laugh at that slowly inching more and more away even tho both of us would have loved some more time together. Having reached the door and getting my keys out i open the door, turning to him one last time debating if I should blow him a kiss or not but deciding against it, that can wait for after our date tomorrow.

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Alter Just found this after like 6 months 💀persönliche mg?!

Bij njvht dribk

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #fc barcelona #x reader #gavi #pablo gavira #fermin lopez x reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 day

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Melodic Memories | Track 3: I Need You - Lynyrd Skynyrd (1 of 2)

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19.5k

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, crying, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, drinking, smoking, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

Here’s part one of two 😁 part two is finished, but i gotta build some suspense. let me know what you think and we’ll see what happens in pt. 2! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Her POV

‘Ain't no need to worry

There ain't no use to cry

'Cause I'll be comin' home soon

To keep you satisfied

You know I get so lonely

That I feel I can't go on

And it feels so good inside, babe

Just to call you on the telephone

And I said—‘

“Do I even want to know why this one’s on here?” Mel chortled, reaching out and pressing the pause button on the CD player. The music cut out, silence filling the air around you, instantly making you miss the sound of the sweet melody. Worse yet, it made you miss the boy who burned it into the tracklist to begin with.

“What can I say? We were romantics.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair and kicking your feet up on the desk. “Guess this one doesn’t really have a memory, per se. More or less just lots of listening.” You giggled, feeling more at ease with the reminiscent music as time dragged on.

It had been a few weeks since you reached out to Jake, a few weeks since you threw the entire universe off course and opened your heart to him once again. Most of your room was packed up now, only a few items still waiting to be thrown out or stuffed in a box. Although you’d made lots of great progress on your most pressing task, packing up boxes had not been the highlight of the weeks that had flown by. Instead of buzzing with excitement over your long awaited move, you were filled with joy that Jake was back around. Since the fated phone call that left you with so many questions and regrets, time was allowing answers and comforts over the things you never believed would resolve. The conversation between you was constant, only slowing when you were asleep, and phone calls were almost a daily routine, so long as his schedule allowed for it.

There wasn’t much talk of what the two of you were, or really what you were doing, but you did know it felt good to wake up to his name on your screen every day. You were getting to know each other again, slowly but surely, through drawn out bouts of heavy flirtation. He was sending loads of pictures as he traveled across Europe, ensuring you didn’t miss out on a single bit of his life now that he had you back around.

“Listening? What does that—oh, god, Y/N!” Mel exclaimed, recoiling in faux outrage. “This was your sex song?!” A shriek of laughter erupted from you, the expression of disgust on her face unusually funny to you. “Gross. You’re gross, you know.” She muttered, flipping to the next page of your senior yearbook.

“You were the one who said it, Mel.” You stressed your point, clicking the play button so the tune would continue. “And it wasn’t our sex song.” You corrected her on the matter, your tone short. “We had lots of sex songs, and even though this happened to be one, it’s more than just that.”

“Ugh,” she shuddered, her eyes flickering towards you. “I want to ask, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It was our everything song.” You shrugged. “My grandfather loved Skynyrd, and I guess he passed that down to me. Used to listen to ‘Second Helping’ over and over again when he worked outside. Could recite that album better than the bible.”

“Yeah, like you’re a godly person.” She rolled her eyes.

“You get what I mean.” You tossed the stress ball you were playing with at her head, over her dramatics and eager to tell the story.

“When we got together, I used to beg Jake to learn how to play Free Bird. Guess I never understood how hard that actually was, but eventually, he learned it anyway. It was horrible, awful, even, but he did it for me, and that’s what mattered.”

“Bet he looked hot doing it, though.” She hummed, recalling the many Instagram pictures she’d scrolled through. You narrowed your gaze, unsure if you should be upset about the statement or not. After a moment of bargaining, you decided not to take her words to heart in hopes to avoid any misplaced jealousy.

“Yeah, he definitely did.” You chuckled, conceding as you recalled the memory. He did look hot playing it, but then again, he always did. You couldn’t argue with her when she was right.

“Okay, but Free Bird isn’t on here. Why is this one important?”

“Well, Free Bird is a long song.” She let out a sigh, growing tired of waiting. A small smile pulled at your lips, knowing your drawn out rendition of the tale was torturous to her. “So, in the meantime, he learned this. Said it was easier, and more fitting, because that’s exactly how he felt about me.”

“Was your whole relationship just him leaning to play songs for you?” She asked, envious of all the grand romantic gestures. From all you told her, she quickly understood why he was so hard for you to forget.

“Not all of it, but a lot of it.” You chuckled, tapping the cap of your pen against your notebook. On the paper sat a list of the items you would need to purchase for your new apartment. Even the exciting prospect of moving out and surviving on your own couldn’t compare to the storm of thoughts that you were constantly stuck in, always pertaining to the same boy. “He was a big blues guy, and I guess we got along so well because I was, too. He showed me so much music, and I still listen to most of it.” You explained, smiling to yourself as you thought back on it. “After he played that song for me, it kinda turned into our anthem, I guess. Wherever we went, whatever we were doing, it was always in the background. Lots of road trips and beach days spent with this song, and some fantastic memories made to it. And yeah, lots of sex, too.” You sighed, dreamily reminiscing on the best days of your entire life. As you stared off at the ceiling, a pillow went flying, striking you straight in the face and abruptly ending that train of thought.

“God, you talk about it like it was phenomenal, or something. You were in high school, it couldn’t have been that good.” She rolled onto her back, holding the yearbook over her head as she continued to search for pictures of you. You giggled to yourself, tossing the pillow back to the bed. It landed beside her with a pathetic bounce, and you watched it until it fell still again.

“It was that good though.” You said, your eyes fluttering closed as you thought back to the time. “Maybe it’s because I was in love with him, but to me, it was always that good.”

“Gross, Y/N.” She teased, not actually as bothered as she was letting on. “Seriously, though. He seems great. Even after all this time, he still really loves you.” Your cheeks turned crimson, your entire body encased with warmth at the term. Love was something you were trying to push from your mind, especially because the two of you never declared that you would be rekindling the romance. There was so much up in the air, so much uncertainty, but it wasn’t a bad feeling for once. For the first time in a long time, you were excited about tomorrow and what it would bring. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed, shooting upright. You jumped in surprise, not expecting such a reaction from her.

“What is your issue?” You asked, laying a hand over your racing heart.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she announced, reading straight from the page. You let out a groan, knowing she found the seniors section of the yearbook, and you were about to be subjected to some intense scrutiny. “Can’t imagine without: Kiszka twins and my AP bio textbook. Probably destiny: married to Jake Kiszka. Pet peeves: open-mouthed chewing, being late. First love: Jim Morrison—fair enough. Weaknesses: guitarists and brown eyes. God, you were so whipped.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, it’s cute, really.” She giggled, looking over the photo of you before flipping to the next page. “Ah, Jacob Thomas Kiszka. He was a cutie, huh? Can’t imagine without: my guitar, Y/N, my brothers. Probable destiny: playing guitar on stage somewhere, married to Y/N. Pet peeves: broken patch cord, Josh. Weaknesses: High E String, sunshine. I take it you’re sunshine?”

“Shut up.” You groaned, your face burning as you tried to disappear into your seat. You knew she was having fun, and you couldn’t take that away from her, but reliving all of the embarrassing high school memories was incredibly painful.

“Y/N Y/L/N, most likely to rule the world.” She raised an eyebrow, casting a glance in your direction. You gave a shrug, chuckling slightly at her expression.

“They thought I was smart, I guess.”

“Was it in a world domination way, or like a peace-love-harmony kind of way?” She pressed, leaning into the conversation as she awaited an answer.

“Depended on the day, really.” You grinned.

“Jacob Kiszka, most likely to win a Grammy.”

“And he did.” You beamed, your stomach fluttering with pride as you said it.

“When are you getting me a rockstar boyfriend?” She huffed, only slightly envious of how the cards played out for you.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You squeaked, shutting the idea down before it could go any further. “We’re just old friends catching up. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” She laughed, unable to agree with that statement. “You talk nonstop, and his name still has a heart beside it in your phone. You’re so in love I’m surprised you can even think of anything else.”

“Mel, would you quit it? It’s not that serious!” You tried to downplay it, defending yourself against the accusations and only ever making yourself look more guilty.

As you were about to continue your argument, your ringtone began to sound through the room, the soft melody of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac filling your ears. She raised an eyebrow, biting back a knowing smirk as she patiently waited to hear who the call was from. You pulled your phone from your pocket, your eyes drifting over the screen. Your cheeks darkened and your embarrassment grew as you saw the little red heart beside his name, but answered without any hesitation.

“Hi.” You fought back a smile, finding your heart racing as his face graced your screen. You noticed the background of the picture, his head resting on a car seat and the ambient sound of wheels on pavement filling your ears. There was quiet chatter coming from the backseat, barely noticeable even if you were straining to listen.

“Hi, sunshine.” He grinned, his eyes heavy like he’d just woken up from sleep, or perhaps he was trying his best to fight it. It had been a long time since you saw the expression on his face, it was unfamiliar now. The gravelly tone of his voice, low and slow, led you to believe he was just waking. “What are you up to?”

“Packing, as usual.” You sighed, holding the phone away from your face and spinning in your chair, showing him the plethora of boxes laying around your room. “We found my old yearbook, so we took a break to look through it.”

“Find anything good?” He asked, amused at the thought of you taking that walk down memory lane.

“She didn’t, but I definitely did.” Mel cut in, making her presence known in the best way she knew how; loudly and annoyingly.

“Hey, Mel.” Jake laughed, recognizing the tone from previous phone calls. You kicked your chair towards the bed, holding your phone a little higher so she was in frame too.

“Hello, Jacob.” She beamed. “Did you know that Y/N’s first love was Jim Morrison?” She began, her eyes flickering towards you as she spoke.

“Okay, Mel—“ you tried, but Jake cut you off mid sentence, liking the direction the conversation was headed in.

“I did know that, actually.” He grinned, blinking a few more times as he sat up in his seat. ��What else did you find?”

“Oh, nothing too serious.” She sighed, pretending to ponder the question. “I did happen to learn that her weaknesses, apparently, are guitarists with brown eyes. What a coincidence, right?”

“Huh, that is strange.” He giggled, his cheeks dusted pink as he listened to her words. “Still true, sweetheart?” He asked, his question pointed at you now.

“Yeah, I guess.” You smiled, speaking softly and sweetly. “Happen to know anyone who fits the bill?”

“I do, actually.” A voice cut in from the backseat, half a head popping into view of the camera. Your eyes lit up, your smile blinding as you recognized the boy in view.

“Sam!” You exclaimed, barely noticing Jake landing a sharp smack on his arm. He didn’t have much time to greet you, because Jake was pushing him back into his seat and telling him to mind his own business.

“Sorry ‘bout him.” Jake cleared his throat, sending a threatening stare over his shoulder. “You know how he is. Loves being the center of attention, and he never got over that crush he had in the eighth grade.” You heard a shout of protest from the backseat, but neither of you paid any mind to it.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” You gave a playful roll of your eyes, teasing him despite there being some truth to the statement.

“Kiszka curse, I suppose.” He shrugged. “What else did you find, Mel?”

“In 2014, you said your weakness was sunshine.” Mel continued, looking back at the book to double check if the statement was correct. “You like the sun, Jacob?” He chuckled to himself, his eyes sparkling with nothing but adoration as he watched your face. He continued to focus on you as he replied.

“Yeah, I do. I love sunshine, Mel. Always have.” Your entire body warmed with the sweetness of his words, your stomach filled with butterflies and your heartbeat rapidly against your chest.

“Hmm,” she hummed, an evil little smirk on her lips. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You huffed, trying your best to digest his words and move on from the subject. Focusing on it would do nothing but worsen the blossoming feelings in your chest, and you were doing everything in your power to keep them at bay. “Where are you headed, anyway?” You tried to change the topic, hoping it would lessen the tugging of your heartstrings.

“I’m glad you asked, sunshine.” He grinned, making the intent of his last statement even more obvious. “Since we’ve got a few weeks before our next show, the boys and I got to talking, and we decided to visit home for a few days.”

“Home?” You asked, leaning forward in your seat at the new information. “Like, Michigan?” You tried not to let your excitement get the best of you, but your hands were vibrating, making it difficult to hold the phone steady. The prospect of possibly being able to see Jake again, in person rather than through a screen, was almost too much to take.

“Where else, sweetheart?” He smiled, noticing your eyes light up at the realization. Of course, to his brothers, Michigan was home. To him though, the state had little to do with the homesickness ravaging his heart. The only thing that made it feel like home was you, and that’s exactly what he was headed towards. Like an invisible rope tying the two of you together, he’d been feeling the pull ever since you decided to break the no contact rule you had put in place so long ago.

“You’re really on your way here?” You asked, needing the confirmation to believe he was telling the truth.

“Here now, actually. Checked into the hotel a few hours ago and we’re headed to see our parents.” He clarified further, sending a small smile your way.

“So that’s why you’ve barely been texting me!” You exclaimed, finally piecing the two together. “You suck at lying, and you’re terrible at keeping secrets.” You giggled, knowing it for a fact and knowing it better than anyone else. Every gift, every date, every moment spent together was never anything close to a surprise, but it was perfectly fine by you; you loved the excitement in his eyes when he was about to share something with you, loving you so much that he couldn’t bear to keep a single thought to himself.

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me.” He conceded, knowing there was no winning that fight. “If you’re free tonight, I’d love to see you. Maybe take you out for dinner or a drink, for old times sake?” He offered, holding his breath as he awaited a reply. He’d been eager to ask, but anxious about your response, spending the entire drive psyching himself up to find the courage.

You were stunned at the idea, unable to believe that his first thought was you, that he would miss out on precious time spent with his family to take you out to dinner. You wanted to go, more than anything else in the world, but you couldn’t deny the nervous energy that filled you as soon as he suggested it. So far, it had been incredibly difficult to keep your feelings to yourself as you spent countless hours on the phone with him, and you knew it would be even harder if he was right in front of you. In fact, you knew it would be impossible to think of anything other than the way you felt about him, and that made you want to decline.

Still, you were so scared of getting your heart broken that you were willing to deny yourself of the only thing you ever wanted.

As sneakily as possible, Mel reached forward and delivered a sharp smack to your leg, snapping you from your thoughts and forcing you to answer. “I, uh… I’d love to, Jake. I just gotta check and make sure there’s nothing planned, you know? I-I just want to make sure before I say yes.”

You couldn’t see her, but the eye roll Mel found herself giving was glaringly obvious to Jake, who could see her plain as day in the background.

“She’d love to go, Jake. We have absolutely nothing planned.” Mel corrected, doing her best not to deliver another hit to your leg for being so ridiculous. You bit down on your tongue, your stomach swirling with anxiety as you looked at the clock on the wall. “Right, Y/N?”

“Right.” You squeaked, knowing there was no backing out, now. “Nothing planned.” You forced a smile on your face, trying your best to stay calm. You felt like running a lap around the house, just to rid yourself of the nervous jitters that began to creep up on you. You wanted to see him so badly, but you had no idea how to keep it PG with him. How could you when he looked so fucking stunning, all of the time?

“Okay.” Jake chuckled, noticing the tension between you. “If you’ve got nothing else going on, I can pick you up at six?” He asked, making sure the time was good for you.

“Six is great.” Mel assured him. “See you soon! Can’t wait to meet you!” She sang, reaching over and hitting the end call button in a flash. As soon as the call disconnected, you whipped around to face her, a grievous look in your eye.

“Nothing planned!? Six is great?!” You shouted, furious with her for forcing your hand in the matter.

“Oh my god, Y/N! What is wrong with you?” She groaned, covering her face with her hands to hide her secondhand embarrassment. “The man of your dreams magically shows up after six years, drives to Michigan just to see you, and you have to check if you have other plans?!”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” You exploded, sitting completely upright in your seat. “What if I’m not ready for this? How am I supposed to keep it casual when I’m still in love with the guy?!” She closed her eyes, calming herself down before she reached forward. Both of her hands landed on your shoulders, her grip firm as she literally shook you out of your own thoughts.

“Listen to me.” She urged. “Stop trying to ruin this for yourself! This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Y/N. Don’t you get that? He loves you, you love him, stop trying to run away from it!” She gave you a small shake with every word that fell from her lips. As she spoke, you managed to swallow back the ball of anxiety that was choking you, allowing you to breathe for a second.

“I’m scared, Mel. I’m terrified. Don’t you get that?” You sighed, reaching up and holding her arms to ground yourself. You closed your eyes and let your head fall towards the floor. “He was my biggest heartbreak, and my greatest love. It’s fantastic that he’s back in my life, but I’m so scared of losing him that it makes me want to tell him to leave. I don’t want to open my heart up like that again, because it nearly killed me last time.”

“Stop living in the future, and stop thinking about the past.” She said, her voice much softer as she understood your fears a little better. “Think about you, right now. Think about how happy you are when you talk to him, about how good it makes you feel. Babe, you haven’t been this happy in… well, ever. Open your heart a little bit. Let him in. You don’t have to give everything all at once, but you can’t give him nothing at all.”

“That’s the hard part. I’ve never known how to meet in the middle. I want to give him everything, all of the time.” You groaned. You let your head fall back on your shoulders, resting against the back of the chair as you bargained with her. She had good points, but she didn’t know the version of you that was in love with Jake. She didn’t know how much you would give just to make him happy, how much you would give just to love him.

“The universe gave you a chance to start over, Y/N. You have to take it.” She sighed, knowing that she was wasting her breath. “Don’t shut him out, because in six years, we’ll be sitting here doing this all over again.” You stayed silent for a moment, biting down on the inside of your lip as you contemplated everything she had to say.

Could you really force yourself away from him? Could you really walk away after spending so long eager to run back to him? Could you stomach the pain of sitting here again in the future, suffering because you let him slip through your fingers twice?

Of course you couldn’t; Jake was the whole reason your heart beat, the thing that forced you out of bed and the last thought that lulled you to sleep. He was the birds singing in the morning sky, and the stars twinkling in unison with the moonlight. He was the only thing you wanted, and he was the whole world.

You wanted to love him until you couldn’t possibly love any more, and even then you would try harder. He was worth it to you; the risk, the pain, the sadness and sacrifice was all worth a minute of his time, and a single second of his love.

“Okay.” You breathed, slapping your palms down onto your knees. “I have to take it.” You agreed, giving a curt nod of your head. You were terrified, horrified at the thought of this meaning something different to him as it did to you. You couldn’t stomach the idea of him showing up at your door and realizing that he didn’t want you like he thought he did, but you stood anyhow, glancing at the clock as you worked up the courage to take a step. “Oh, god.” You whined, feeling the pre-date panic begin to set in. “I only have an hour.”

“Let’s get to work, then.” She grinned, happy to hear you were finally on the same page. “You go shower, I’ll find you something to wear.” She said, ushering you out the door.

“Yeah, okay.” You agreed, rushing towards the hallway and into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest and your mind racing. You took a long breath to calm yourself, then discarded your clothes on the floor. You flipped the shower on, stepping in as the water warmed. You washed your hair, letting the conditioner sit in while you washed the rest of your body. As you were clipping the mound of hair to the top of your head, you heard a knock at the door. Within a few moments, it was open and Mel was talking.

“Are you shaving?”

“Get out.” You laughed, finding her invasive nature comforting. She had always been the same, overbearing and a little controlling, but for the best reasons. You were grateful for her, even if she was a little much, especially in such a chaotic time. “Should I shave? Is sex implied?” You asked, beginning to panic again. “Is sex implied?” You asked again, a little more frantic.

“You should shave.” She said, simple but very clear with her intent. Your stomach twisted with another wave of nerves, but you obliged anyway.

When you were clean, she left you alone to dry yourself off. You did your skincare as fast as you could, securing the towel around your body as you walked back to your room to see what outfit she had chosen for you. She stood by the bed, hand on her hip as three outfits laid out on the mattress, awaiting your decision. You stepped forward, looking at all of them before turning your head towards her, your eyes wide and your lips turned down into a frown.

“Mel!” You scolded, noticing that all of the choices seemed to be lacking one thing; coverage. She picked the skimpiest outfits she could find, and with your eyes on the clock, you felt your anxiety begin to take over once again. “I can’t wear any of this!”

“Sure you can!” She smiled, moving to pick a dress up from the bed. She held it to her body, her eyebrows raised as she waited to hear your thoughts.

“I’m going on a date, not a frat party!” You exclaimed, stressed that she was so insistent on you wearing one of the three. The clothes looked like they walked straight out of her freshman year closet, much too wild for the woman who she was trying to force them upon.

“Ugh, fine.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to a box on the floor. “I knew you’d argue with me, so here.” She sighed, picking a dress from the top. Your shoulders relaxed as your eyes drifted over the soft, red material.

“That’s better.” You said, a wordless thank you in your tone as you grabbed it. Once you were back in the bathroom, you dropped the towel and slipped the dress over your head. You fixed the spaghetti straps and settled the slip on your legs. The flowy material was as comfortable as it was pretty, and the neckline showed just enough to catch his eye, but not enough to show off. “Much better.” You muttered to yourself, smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

“Are you decent?” Mel asked through the door, impatiently waiting in the hall.

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, twisting the knob and opening the door to let her inside.

“That looks really good on you.” She complimented, straightening the back of the skirt as she set your makeup bags on the counter. Under her arm was a curling iron, a blow dryer and a box of rollers.

“Thanks.” You hummed, drumming your fingers against the countertop. The surplus of energy coursing through you was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you could barely hold yourself still.

“Hey,” she spoke softly, catching your attention as she unraveled the cord for the blow dryer. “Relax. It’s gonna be fine.” She assured you, plugging the cord into the wall.

“You’re right.” You breathed, pulling the towel from your head. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him. I’m really nervous.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell.” She chuckled, bringing the blow dryer to your hair as she combed through it. It didn’t take long for the strands to dry and she was plugging the curling iron in to warm. While you waited, you started on your makeup, checking the time to make sure you weren’t running late.

You took a break from makeup while she curled the ends of your hair, twisting the locks around the rollers and pinning them to your head to set. She finished with the hair framing your face, and you continued to paint your face in the mirror. When you swiped on a layer of lip gloss, you leaned in to get a closer look, fixing any imperfections as you studied your reflection.

“You look beautiful.” She said, easing your worries. As she pulled the rollers from your hair, she gave a small spray of hairspray to each one, then combed it all out for you. “And just on time.” She said, tapping your phone screen to check the clock.

“Thank you for your help. I’m sorry I got so… worked up.” You murmured, guilty over your harsh words and stubborn attitude.

“No need to apologize. I know you, babe. I know what I signed up for.” She giggled, fluffing your hair ever so slightly. She pulled a few curls over your shoulder, then nudged you towards the door. “He should be here any minute.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Always am.” She grinned, pulling the door open and allowing you to step out first.

You stopped by your bedroom, grabbing your purse and clasping a gold chain around your neck. You rummaged around an old jewelry box, finding some gold hoops to go with it, and sprayed on some perfume. When you felt certain you were ready, you made your way towards the stairs. Before your foot even hit the top step, you heard the doorbell chime, and your stomach plummeted. Mel was behind you, close enough to ensure you would turn and hide. You swallowed hard, slowly making your way down the steps. Your palms were clammy and your chest was tight, but you couldn’t ignore the excitement blossoming deep in your heart.

Your mom had rushed to the door, uncertain of who could be visiting so late in the evening. You felt bad, realizing you should have told her long before that moment. As your feet hit the linoleum of the kitchen floor, you heard a loud noise, your mothers excitement almost too much for her to handle. “Jacob Kiszka, look at you!” She fawned over the man that stood before her, her voice echoing through the entire house. Your steps became slower, shorter as you grew closer to the entryway. Mel was behind you, encouraging you to keep moving forward despite your mind begging you to run away. “Gosh, you’re all grown up now. Another one of my babies.” You could hear her tone become muffled, likely because he’d pulled her into a hug, because he’d always been so loving to her, too.

“You ready?” Mel whispered, her chin practically resting on your shoulder.

“Not at all.” You shook your head, more anxious than you’d ever been.

“Y/N! Come look who’s here!” Your mom shouted into the hallway, not realizing you were standing a few feet away from her. With one last breath of courage, you rounded the corner and stepped into view.

Jake’s POV

As she appeared in front of you, you were certain the world stopped turning. There seemed to be a golden glow surrounding her, radiating from her as she stepped towards you; sunshine, but even brighter and more beautiful than the burnt up old star in the sky. A long forgotten warmth washed over you, comforting and loving, just like it felt to be in her company when you were eighteen. She was different, her face reflecting the time that had passed but leaving her even more beautiful than she was before. The smile on her lips nearly sent you to your knees before her, begging for just one more chance to show her how much she meant to you, but you kept your composure as you studied her.

There were freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose, the ones that splayed into perfect little constellations you once considered yourself an expert on. They only came out in the summertime, when her days were spent outside and under the sun that could only envy her and the light she provided. The dress she was wearing stopped mid thigh, showing off the knees that were still littered with scars from years spent riding bikes and tripping over shoelaces. Her hair was much longer, like she hadn’t cut it at all since you last saw her, and it too was graced by the sun and lighter than it was in the winter months.

The crinkles by her eyes when she smiled, so similar to how they were when you were in high school, but just a little more pronounced. Age had been kind to her, and you were certain that as the years continued to pass, she would only ever grow more beautiful.

You were nervous, your entire day leaving you near insanity as you planned and perfected the evening, and insanity creeping closer as you called to ask her to join you for the night. You knew her hesitation was likely due to the same reasons as your own, but you couldn’t help the stab in your chest you felt when Mel answered for her. Now, seeing her all dolled up and sheepish as she stood before you, her hands linked together in front of her as she shied away from eye contact, you knew she wanted to see you as bad as you wanted to see her.

After six years spent wandering, aimless and hopeful for something to change, it finally did. The struggle, the fear and the hurt all made sense, because she was standing in front of you again.

She was still yours, just like you were still very much hers.

Her POV

As your eyes connected with his own, you nearly fell to your knees in grief. In a single second, you found yourself mourning the boy you used to love and falling desperately for the man who stood in his place. His hair was even longer than it seemed in the video calls, framing the perfect picture of his face. It was pushed back slightly by the sunglasses sat atop his head, keeping the strands from his eyes. His eyes, brown and beautiful, giving you that long awaited relief from your everlasting sense of homesickness.

He was wearing a tan button up shirt, only the last three buttons secure. Over top was a white, weathered blazer, loose on him and the sleeves cuffed once off his wrists. His pants matched the color of the blazer, the button up tucked in messily and the peek of a brown leather belt showing. There was a pendant around his neck, drawing your attention to his chest that was exposed through the peek of his shirt. There was a watch around his wrist, and a ring on his middle finger.

He was positively beautiful, and you couldn’t manage to take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my god.” Mel whispered, just quiet enough for you to hear. She was thinking all the same things, and you couldn’t blame her a bit. He was gorgeous, and you were doing everything in your power not to run straight into his arms.

The only thing that made the scene better was the fact his eyes were raking over you, admiring you with the same intensity.

“Long time no see, sunshine.” He rasped, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You took a step towards him, your previous fears and worries fleeing you in an instant. Like all of those years ago, there was this irresistible pull towards him, like the universe was forcing the two of you together.

“Jake, you look…” you trailed off, your voice quiet as you approached him. “So different.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to come on too strong.

“In a good way, I hope.” He grinned, stepping forward out of the doorway. You were close enough that you could smell his cologne, the sandalwood and amber taking over your senses and wrapping you in a familiar comfort. It was almost the same, but a little more expensive and much more tempting.

“Are you kidding?” You giggled, watching as he extended his arm and invited you in for a hug. You finally surpassed the small boundary still existing between you and fell into his arms. Your own wrapped around his torso, your chest landing against his and your head naturally falling to his shoulder. One of his strong arms snaked around your waist, his opposite hand cupping the back of your head as he held you to him.

After six years of suffering, the world finally felt right.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, sweetheart. Just like always.” He whispered, just loud enough to reach your ears. His chest rattled against your own as his words vibrated through him, only drawing you further into his touch. Despite your mother and your best friend watching the long and drawn out reunion, you never wanted him to let go. Eventually, he pulled back ever so slightly, looking down over your face but not easing his grip on you. “You always knew how to leave me speechless.”

“Don’t sound very speechless to me.” You giggled, finding the comfortability between you the same as it was so long ago.

“God,” he sighed, taking your face in his hands. His hold was gentle, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he took in the sight of your face. It had been so long since he had you so close, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever let it go again. “It’s so good to see you, sunshine.” Your hands rested on his sides, the material of his shirt felt nice in your hands as you held him close.

“You too, bug.” You smiled, your cheeks rosy and your head swirling with excitement. “I like the mustache.” You fought the urge to reach up and touch it, knowing you would be opening a door you’d never be able to close.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with love, just like they did when you were kids.

“Definitely. You should keep it.” You whispered, finding yourself caught in a staring contest. Neither of you seemed keen on pulling away, nor did you seem to want to stop the pull of gravity forcing you together.

“If you say so.” He chuckled, knowing now that you said that, he’d never want to shave it off.

“Let me introduce you to Mel, then we can get going.” You breathed, your stomach sick at the thought of pulling away from him. His hand drifted down your cheek, his calloused fingertips tickling your neck as he made sure to admire every inch of you. He didn’t want to separate either, but he knew he had a whole night of having you to himself.

“Yeah, f’course.” He nodded, letting his hand ghost over your shoulder and down your arm. The light touch sent a shiver down your spine, your skin littered with goosebumps and the hair on the back of your neck standing straight. You couldn’t believe he still had such an effect on you.

You took a step back, noticing his fingers trail all the way down your forearm and lightly dust your own. You had to fight every urge not to interlock your fingers with his, trying to push the thought from your head as you turned to face Mel.

“This is Jake.” You said, sending her a nervous smile.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jacob. I’m Mel.” She stepped forward, extending her hand for him to shake. “I’ve heard lots about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” He gave a nervous chuckle, accepting her gesture. “I’ve heard lots about you, too.”

“All bad things, I assume.” At that, the two shared a laugh, the nerves of the first meeting wearing off immediately. You couldn’t help but feel your heart warm at the sight of them laughing together, your two favorite people in the whole world.

“Thanks for letting me steal her from you tonight.” He smiled, feeling a need to express his gratitude.

“Take care of her, okay?” She asked, sending a soft smile your way. “Not much we don’t do together, so someone has to keep her out of trouble.”

“You have my word.” He promised, knowing he would always do everything he could to keep you safe. He turned to you, eager to get you alone so he could finally catch up with you properly.

“You ready to head out?” You asked, catching his eye.

“Yeah,” he nodded, but seemed slightly hesitant on the idea. You cocked your head to the side, curious about his reaction. “I just… before we do, can I meet your cat?” He asked, almost embarrassed by the question. You swallowed hard, your heart drumming in your chest as you tried not to melt into a puddle of emotion before his very eyes.

“Let me get him.” Mel grinned, stepping back into the kitchen and grabbing a bag of treats from the counter. She gave it a shake, the familiar sound filling the stale air. When it was met with silence, she gave it another shake, louder and slightly more aggressive. Within a few seconds, the jingle of a bell could be heard, and Ozz came bounding down the stairs, enticed by the idea of getting something to eat.

Once he was within range, Mel reached down and scooped him up in her arms. He let out a meow of protest, but snuggled into her hold despite his feelings on the matter. She rejoined the group, offering Jake the bag of treats as she held the little black cat to her chest.

“Me?” He asked, taking them from her and looking at the bag in surprise.

“What better way to make a first impression?” You giggled, watching as he opened the ziplock bag and poured a few out in his hand. Ozz’s ears perked up, his head turning towards Jake as he realized what was happening. Jake stepped forward, offering the treats straight from his hand. Ozz leaned forward, giving a hesitant sniff as he tried to decide if Jake was a threat, but eventually fell to the temptation of food.

You couldn’t help but admire the sweetness of the moment, noticing the childlike glee in Jake’s eyes as he tried to make a bond with the pet you dreamed of having since you were young. When the treats were gone, he reached up and scratched behind his ear. Ozz’s eyes closed and you could hear him purring even from a distance. Jake was precious, in every moment of every day, and you couldn’t deny the tugging of your heartstrings as you watched the scene unfold.

“I think he likes you.” You stated, your arms crossed over your chest as a smile pulled at your lips.

“He passed the test.” Mel agreed, looking between the two of you. Eventually, her eyes settled on Jake and she stepped closer, offering her arms out to him. “You want to hold him.”

“W-what?” Jake asked, almost nervous at the thought. “I mean, yeah. S’long as he’s okay with it.”

“Trust me, he’ll be fine with it.” You chuckled, watching as Jake slowly took the cat from her arms. With little problem, Ozz seemed to settle comfortably, looking up in curiosity at the unfamiliar, long-haired man. “Told you.” You said, watching as Ozz leaned closer to his face, nuzzling his head into his cheek.

“You used to talk about getting a cat all of the time.” Jake said, content with the curious cat in his arms as he looked over at you. “I’m so glad you finally did.”

“I did talk about it a lot, didn’t I?” You blushed slightly, surprised he remembered so well.

“All of the time.” He stressed his point, grinning at the memory. “He’s a sweet little thing.” Jake commented, his eyes flickering away from you for a moment. “Just like his mother.” He muttered the second part, just under his breath. You swallowed hard, your heart racing at the sound of his words. The whole thing was nearly overwhelming for you, the picture of the two too much to handle.

“Mind if I get a picture?” You asked, pulling your phone from your purse. You looked to him for approval, knowing that you wanted to remember the moment forever.

“You don’t have to ask.” He rolled his eyes, playful as you aimed your camera at him. You snapped a few pictures, your stomach twisting with an unfamiliar feeling as you selected all of them to add to an album. You scrolled all the way to the end of the page, your eyes landing on an empty album with the same name as it had all those years ago. You could handle deleting the pictures, but not the chapter in its entirety.

A small smile crossed your lips as your phone confirmed the addition to the album, the words flashing across your screen and causing your heart to beat just a little harder.

Three photos added to album: mi amor ❤️

Oh, how good it felt for there to be pictures filling it once again.

“Alright, you ready?” You giggled, watching as the curious little creature raised his head towards Jake’s, sniffing intently as he tried to familiarize himself with him.

“Yeah, let’s go.” He laughed, but didn’t seem keen on parting with Ozz. You stepped forward, catching the cat’s attention by placing a soft hand on his back. He let out a ‘mmrph’, turning to look at you and giving a slow blink. You leaned in closer, nudging the top of his head with your nose as you held yourself back from kissing him. As you found yourself immersed in the moment, you barely noticed Mel behind you, snapping a photo of the three of you together.

Carefully, you took the cat from his arms and placed him down on the floor. Then, you handed the bag of treats back to Mel. You slipped on a pair of heels you’d worn when you went to the bar a few days ago, deciding they were good enough for the occasion. Jake gave you a soft smile, his hand ghosting over your lower back as you raised your leg to tighten the strap around your heel. He was barely touching you, but your stomach was filled with butterflies, perhaps more so because of his undying need to keep you safe.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You turned to look at your best friend, who had a knowing look in her eye. She wouldn’t be seeing you until long after the sun rose in the sky tomorrow, but she kept that thought to herself.

“See you soon.” She replied, her eyes flickering to Jake. “Nice to meet you, finally.” She extended the sentiment towards him and he reiterated it to her. With a gentle hand, he guided you towards the door, patiently waiting as your mom pulled you into a hug.

She placed a small kiss on your cheek, holding you there for a moment to fully express her happiness for you. “Have fun, lovebug. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise.” You whispered, holding her just a little tighter. Your mom had been there for everything, celebrating every happy day and holding you for the worst of them. Still, despite seeing so many tears fall for the boy who now stood behind you, a mother’s instinct always told her that the story wasn’t over for the two of you. Seeing you back together, no matter how innocent the situation was, made the world seem right again. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she stressed, fixing the chain around your neck. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.” She hummed, just loud enough for you to hear. With that, you stepped towards the door, watching as she pulled Jake into another hug. “Always good to see you, Jacob. Try not to wait so long before your next visit, alright?”

“Of course.” He promised, sending her a smile. With that, he turned to you, and you continued on your way.

When the door shut behind him, you finally felt reality begin to catch up and the nervousness return. You dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally happening, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He walked up beside you, looking to his side so he could catch sight of your face again. When you noticed his eyes on you, you felt your cheeks heat and your palms turn clammy. He was the same person you loved so dearly, but he was so different. You had no idea where to start, what to ask to get to know him again, and you were panicking at the silence between you. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was just as nervous as you were, or if he was as cool and collected as he was when you were kids, when nothing seemed to phase him.

“You hungry?” He finally asked, starting easy as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked, relieved that he didn’t mind taking the initiative.

“Starving.” He replied, a far away look in his eyes and he tucked your dress under your leg, not wanting it to catch in the door as he shut it. When he closed it and began walking around to the drivers side, you took a second to ponder what exactly he meant by that. His response was fitting for the conversation, but the expression on his face was something you had seen a hundred times, and you were certain it had little to do with the desire for dinner.

You swallowed hard as he climbed into the vehicle with you, starting it and turning down the radio. Before he backed out of the driveway, he took a moment to admire you.

“You look beautiful, sunshine.” He said again, making sure you knew he meant it. A small smile crossed your lips, and your stomach twisted with nerves as his hand raised to the headrest of your seat. He planted his palm firmly on the back of it, looking over his shoulder as he reversed out onto the street. The smell of his cologne hit you with full force, stronger now that you were contained in the small space. You held yourself in place, trying to ignore the urge to lean into his open arm.

It was so easy to fall back into the old routine, like no time had passed at all.

“You look pretty good yourself.” You said, shyly as you let your eyes take in the entire picture of him. “Europe treated you well.” He chuckled at your words, a little bashful himself over your comment. There was so much truth to the fact, his normally tanned skin even more sunkissed and all the more alluring. He was glowing, his hair lighter than usual and his face soft and smooth. He looked expensive, iridescent as the evening sunlight pooled in through the windshield, like he omitted his own, irresistible aura.

“Guess it did,” he shrugged, trying to play it off as if it were nothing. “Lots of sights to see, lots of days spent in the sun, and wine better than you could ever imagine.”

“Don’t make me jealous, now.” You grinned, relaxing into your seat a little more as the conversation flowed easily.

“No need to be jealous, sweetheart. I’ll take you someday, you can see it for yourself.” You couldn’t help but feel your heart beat faster at the idea, wondering if he truly meant it or if it was just because he was trying to be nice.

“Big plans, I see.” You grinned, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off of him.

“Always, sunshine.” He hummed, nodding ever so slightly as he drove through the old suburbs. “If you want to, of course.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” You replied, swallowing hard at the sight of one of his hands wrapped firmly around the steering wheel. His other arm rested against the door, his hand slightly hanging out the window rolled all the way down. The warm air filled the car, the chill of the AC hitting your exposed legs at the same time, sending you back to a time you remember fondly.

You wondered if he missed the Michigan summers as much as you did, the sticky air sweet and your days spent by the lake trying to combat the heat. You wondered if he remembered all the nights spent on your rooftop, overlooking the neighborhood as the smell of smoke clung to his clothes and the taste of sweet strawberry wine lingered on your lips. A cigarette between his fingers and his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you stared up at the twinkling stars, the grasshoppers bountiful and the owls hooting in the distance.

You wanted to ask, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him not adoring the memories as much as you did. Worse than that, you couldn’t imagine the time being lost on him, shoved so deep down and buried underneath the surplus of memories he’d created after you left.

“Any restaurant in mind, or do you trust me?” He asked, his eyes flickering over to you.

“I trust you.” You assured him, knowing that if trust was a problem, it was never with him.

“Good, ‘cause I already called and ordered for us. That would’ve been awkward.”

He ordered something for you? He was that confident that after six years, he still knew what you would want to eat?

“Planning ahead?” You teased, crossing your hands neatly in your lap so you didn’t reach out to grab his own.

“Yeah, sorry.” He chuckled. “I was excited, I get ahead of myself sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You promised, the sentiment behind his actions warning your chest. “What did you get?” You asked, unable to curb your curiosity. He shifted in his seat, clearly affected by your question and conflicted as he tried to keep the surprise.

“You’ll… have to wait and see.” He forced out, his lips curling into a smile.

“Oh, come on, Jake.” You pressed further, knowing it wouldn’t take much to get him to crack. “Not even a hint?”

“Don’t do that to me, sunshine.” He warned, nearly squirming under the pressure. You bit down on the inside of your lip, happy to see that some things were still the same. Jake’s ability to keep secrets had always been a struggle for him, and you knew that no amount of time could rid him of that.

“Please?” You smirked, pouting your bottom lip ever so slightly. You watched him look at you through the corner of his eye, his sunglasses not able to cover the stress quickly filling his features.

“Fuck,” he huffed, trying to focus on the road. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

“Just tell me, bug. You know you want to.” You continued your torment, almost letting yourself reach out and place a hand on his knee. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you clasped your hands tighter together, not wanting to read too far into a story you weren’t sure was beginning.

“Chinese, from that little place we used to go to when we were kids.” He rushed the words, like he’d hit a wall and collapsed from the impact. At the sound of it, your eyes lit up and a blinding smile crossed your lips.

He remembered.

“We went on our first date there!” You exclaimed, twisting in your seat to get a better look at him. “In the tenth grade, your parents sat a few tables over from us.”

“Yeah,” he beamed, almost relieved that you recalled the date with such clarity, and even more so that you didn’t think it was weird. “Dad gave me his card to pay, so I could impress you.”

“I guess it worked out, didn’t it?” You replied, your cheeks pink as you remembered how excited you were. It was almost the same as you were feeling at that moment, on your way to your second first date.

Date.

Was this a date? Or was this just old friends catching up?

You were confused and conflicted, and a part of you wanted to believe the night had innocent intentions. Still, there was a larger, more complex part of yourself that desperately wanted it to be a date, and for him to say it was. Instead of asking, you pushed the thought away, knowing you would find out in due time.

“It did. For a while, at least.” He chuckled, unable to hide the flash of pain in his eyes as he said it. “This time, we aren’t eating in. I have other plans for tonight.”

“Oh?” You asked, understanding he’d been planning this out much more than you thought he was.

“Please, let me keep it a secret, sunshine. Promise it’ll be worth it, okay?” He said, looking over at you now. Your lips pulled into a tight smile as you debated his words, knowing it would be more fun to push him.

“Promise?” You reiterated, making him sweat a little bit.

“Pinky promise, sunshine.” He said, grasping the wheel tightly in one hand as he reached his other out to you, his pinky extended towards you. You reached up, interlocking your finger with his.

“Alright, bug.” You conceded, trying to ignore the shock of electricity running through you from the simple touch.

“Thank you.” He gave a sigh of relief, looking back to the road but making no move to pull his hand away. Your eyes drifted down to the point of connection between your hands, wondering why he was letting it linger for so long. His eyes flickered to meet yours, a silent question of your comfortability with his actions.

He wanted it too.

Wordlessly, you outstretched your hand, your fingertips tickling his palm as you laced the appendages between his own. You never let your eyes leave him as you did so, continuing on high alert until his hand was comfortably held in your own and his thumb was drifting across your knuckles. You ignored the small smile tugging on his lips, because you knew if you called him out on it, you would be a hypocrite. He lowered his arm, letting your intertwined hands rest on your thigh, testing the waters before making any further moves. When you didn’t say a word in protest, both of you relaxed into the position without any more worries.

“Tell me about Mel.” He said, finally gaining the courage to speak again.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, everything.” He chuckled. “She’s your person, now. I used to be your person, so I guess I want to know if she’s taking care of you, like I would.” He shrugged, never once glancing in your direction. You were happy for that, because you couldn’t stand for him to see the pain on your face that stemmed from his words.

“Jake,” you whispered, giving your head a slight shake. “You… you still are. Even if it’s not the same, you’ll always be my person.” You explained, appalled that he believed that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore. “One of them, at least. Back then, I only ever had you and Josh, but I have a few more now, I guess. You’re still one of them. You never stopped being one of them.” You swore that you heard his breath catch in his throat, that his emotional response was so great that it bled into a physical one, but you didn’t linger on it for long. The whole situation was strange, but you didn’t want to get your hopes too high, just in case it turned out to be different than what you wanted.

“You never stopped being mine, either.” He said, his hand squeezing yours ever so gently. You tried not to focus on the feeling, still stuck in a constant state of self-doubt, but it felt nice to be loved by him, even if it was different than it used to be. “Tell me about her, sunshine.” He urged, noticing a silence growing between you again. In truth, he didn’t care if that’s what it was about; he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.

“Uh, we met in freshman year. We sat beside each other in our first lit class. Took us a few days to speak to each other, but once we did, we never really stopped.” You started, recounting the memory fondly. “When I first moved away, I had a really hard time adjusting. The people there were… different.” You put it lightly, ignoring the real reason you had trouble adjusting. It had nothing to do with the type of people there, but because none of them were him. “They were expensive looking, preppy and kind of annoying. They were very judgemental, ‘specially the girls, and I didn’t really feel like I fit in. It was a lot different than home, and it took me a while to get used to it.”

You could almost hear his heart break as you spoke, like he was grieving for that version of you. More than that, he was angry with himself for not being persistent, for not being the person you needed at that point in your life.

“I noticed Mel was different. The way she held herself… she was relaxed, carefree all of the time. She reminded me of home, and she felt like someone I could trust, or at least talk to without feeling stupid about it. I made a joke about our professor, and we just clicked. We did everything together after that—partnered for every project, went to parties, to run errands…” you trailed off, watching out the windshield as the city passed you by. “She felt like home, and I guess I missed it more than I thought I would. She reminded me of you.” You added the last part, quieter than the rest in fear of overwhelming him. You watched as a smile turned his lips, understanding that with Jake, you didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I’m glad you found her. She seems very…” he trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Eccentric.” He placed it, figuring that was the best way to describe her.

“She is.” You laughed, nodding your head in agreement. “She’s different from anyone else I’ve ever met. She’s got this way about her that just draws me in, like she always balances me out and makes up for what I lack. We have lots in common where it matters, but it’s nice to have someone that challenges me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” You shrugged, realizing you were rambling more than you should.

“I’m excited to get to know her better. If you love her so much, she must be pretty great.” He said, nonchalantly like his statement wasn’t dripping with hidden meaning.

He wanted to get to know her better because he wanted to stick around. He wanted to stay, to continue whatever the two of you were doing and rebuild a relationship between the two of you. He wanted to know her, because she was the closest thing to you.

He wanted you.

You didn’t have time to focus on the unspoken things for much longer, because he was pulling into the hidden parking lot of the restaurant you frequented so often when you were younger. He glanced over at you, then down at your hand intertwined with his, almost sorrowful that he had to let go.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt before he pulled his hand from your lap. You gave a slight nod, immediately noticing the warmth flee you as his fingers slipped away from your own. You didn’t have a chance to offer your company before he stepped out of the car, and he disappeared into the side door of the building before you realized it.

You looked down at your palm, still warm from where his own rested just seconds earlier. His cologne lingered in the air of the car, and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. You had no idea what he was planning, but you were excited to see where the night left you. It had been so long since you had been on a date, let alone with someone who so deeply affected you, and you had almost forgotten how to act.

No, you hadn’t forgotten how to act; you were just in your own head, doubting that the evening he had planned was a date at all.

That was your first course of action, to ask if the night had the same implications for him as it did for you. If you didn’t, you might end up on your front doorstep, grieving a loss he never knew he caused. You were terrified to ask, embarrassed at the idea of it not meaning the same to him, but you needed to know.

You spent your few minutes of alone time psyching yourself up for the big question, finding courage you didn’t know you had. By the time he stepped out of the building, the brown bag of takeout held tightly in his hands, you had enough strength to whisper the words aloud. When he placed the food in the backseat, you were repeating it in your head to keep the momentum. When he slid back in the driver's seat, his head turned to look at you and a sweet little smile on his lips, any amount of strength you conjured disappeared in an instant, leaving your tongue tied and your throat dry.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” He asked, able to read you like a book even now. You swallowed hard, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest as you tried to remember how to phrase the words you wanted to ask him. He raised an eyebrow at your silence, still awaiting an answer you weren’t sure how to give. Eventually, you took a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment to straighten your thoughts. You found that looking at him only made it harder to focus, and without his eyes burning holes into you, you were able to find the courage again.

“Is this… are we on a date?” You blurted out, heaving a small sigh of relief as the words finally passed through your lips. Anxiety continued to eat away at you as you opened your eyes, catching sight of his expression. His eyebrows were knitted together, but the smile on his lips remained. He was so hard to read, which only frustrated you further knowing that he knew how you were feeling all of the time.

“That depends… Do you want to be on a date?”

“Do you?” You asked, shifting in your seat as you averted your gaze away from his face. He laughed at your response, clearly amused by your distress and unbothered by the inquiry.

“I do, yes.” He nodded, knowing you would never confess unless he did, first. “But if you don’t, that’s okay too. We can just eat dinner and have a drink as friends.” His sweetness was overwhelming, and unbelievably reassuring. You let out a long breath, relieved at the sound of his words and happy he felt the same.

“Okay.” You grinned, reaching over and lacing your fingers through his again. As you pulled his hand back to rest in your lap, the anxiety disappeared indefinitely. “I would also like to be on a date.”

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed, leaning back in his seat and starting the car. You could tell that the agreement improved his mood greatly—the slight nervousness in his features settled and the smile on his lips was permanently visible. The momentary euphoria left him confident, and his fingers slipped from yours once more, settling on your thigh just below the hem of your dress. Your stomach twisted in a knot, this time not due to your anxieties, but from excitement. The touch was familiar, comforting, the hold the same as it was when you were seventeen and driving around in his dads old car. You placed your hand atop of his, showing your enthusiasm for the new position.

“Seems like it.” You agreed, fighting a smile begging to blossom on your own lips.

“Good thing, because I’d probably have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He confessed, his grasp tightening ever so slightly as he reveled in the feeling of your skin on his again.

“Is that so?” You teased, encouraging his behavior in an attempt to hear more about it.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking spot and back out onto the street. “You really think I could behave myself all night? This close to my favorite girl?” His words hit you hard, turning your cheeks crimson and sending your heart racing.

“Don’t flatter me, Jacob.” You spoke softly, downplaying his words but desperately hoping that he would continue.

“But it’s my favorite thing to do.” He reminded you, tracing small circles into your leg with his thumb. You settled comfortably in your seat, but not for long before the car was slowing to a stop again, pulling off into another overly familiar area. The dirt lot was barren, the two of you the only occupants of the large space. Jake pulled off to the side, earning a sideways glance from you.

“Jake…” you began, overwhelmed with years worth of love as the memories flooded your mind.

“What?” He grinned, turning in his seat to face you.

“This is the spot!” You exclaimed, not wanting to be the one to say it out loud.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to…” he trailed off, raising his free hand to his chin as he pretended to ponder the words. “I thought it was just a nice place to have dinner. What happened here, again?” You reached over, giving him a playful shove. He laughed, loud and booming, filling your heart with enough love you thought it might burst.

You used to dream of hearing him laugh like that, together at your spot. You yearned for it, for even just a single second spent here with him, and now you had it in your grasp.

“Don’t be a dick.” You giggled, knowing he was only joking for the sake of bothering you.

“You know I could never forget our spot, sweetheart.” He said, giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Well, one of them, anyway.”

“But this was the spot.” You smiled, feeling yourself leaning into him without even realizing it. “This is where you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“It is.” He nodded, fighting every urge to lean forward and kiss you right there. He was overtaken with emotion, as joyous as he was when he was fifteen and walking through the park with you for the first time. He picked a flower from the beds the city maintained, making a whole ordeal out of asking you the question he already knew the answer to. He could never forget it, because it was one of his most cherished moments, and now, almost a decade later, he got to relive that elation all over again. “Come with me, sunshine.”

Together, the two of you stepped outside into the warm evening air. The sun was still shining, setting a golden hue over the lush green grass and the overgrown trees. The park was different than it was when you were younger, more grown and less tended to than it used to be. When new parks opened, this one became forgotten in the mess of excitement that sprouted from the city's changes. To you, it could never be forgotten. You’d choose the rusted swing sets and the weathered park benches and picnic tables every day for the rest of your life because that was where you felt closest to him.

Jake retrieved the takeout from the backseat, then an additional grocery bag filled with items he had not shared with you yet. He joined you by your side, fighting off your attempts at grabbing something from his hands. Wordlessly, he led you to the narrow path through the trees, but he knew you did not need his guidance. Both of you could navigate the trails through the park blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back, because most of your nights were spent aimlessly wandering, hand in hand with each other.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the opening to the park, the tiny trail tapering off into an overgrown field. The grass was overgrown, tickling your ankles as you advanced through it. Birds were chirping, making home in the tree branches and concealed by the leaves. Butterflies fluttered around the scene, carefree and avoidant of the two of you. Jake let you lead the way, staying close behind you as you gravitated towards the picnic table that called your name. You looked back over your shoulder, smiling at him as you closed in on it and realized it had never been replaced.

“Still there?” He asked as he approached, closing the small gap between you.

“Still there.” You nodded, looking down at the old wooden board. You tried to ignore the feeling of his body so close to yours, the warmth radiating from him as he stood behind you, and the scent of his cologne surrounding you even in the gentle breeze, but it was proving difficult the longer you stood together. You reached out, your fingers tracing the divots in the wood grain. From the years of weather and use, the carving almost seemed like it belonged, now. The rough edges had smoothed, and the color changed to match the rest.

Your initials, side by side and destined to tie the two of you there for eternity. He had carved it with an old pocket knife the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, informing you that so long as the picture remained, so would his love for you.

“Still true?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper, cracking with emotion as you doubted he would even remember the insignificance of the promise. His head turned down to you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he responded. The air between you was thick, just like the tension that accompanied it.

“Still true.” He assured you, like there was never a doubt in his mind about it. You turned your head to the side, swallowing hard at the confession and the close proximity of his face to yours. The wind was blowing his hair away from his face, his dark eyelashes tickling his cheeks as he looked down at you. You looked up at him through your own lashes, admiring the intricacies of his face that you could not notice from far away, intricacies that only you would care to look for. His nose was nearly brushing yours, his breath warm on your skin. He was so close, and you wanted it so bad, but you were scared to make the first move. “Always true.”

For a moment, the world stopped turning. No more butterflies, no more chirps from the birds, no more gusts of wind blowing you around; just the two of you there, together in perfect harmony, enjoying each other’s presence after being separated for so long.

“For me, too.” You whispered, needing him to know that the love was not one sided. Although you did not have the strength to speak the words, he knew what you meant, and that was all that mattered.

Instead of leaning forward and closing the gap between your mouths, he sat the bags atop the rickety wooden table. He didn’t move too far away, but he did send you a small smile, like a promise that something better was to come. You couldn’t help but feel a sinking disappointment as he moved away, but you pushed it aside and forced a smile to match his.

“Now, let’s see how well I remember.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit. You did as you were told, sliding onto the bench and smoothing your dress under your legs. You crossed your ankles, propping your chin up on your palm as you waited to see what he pulled together. “For dinner, shrimp lo mein and spring rolls.” He raised an eyebrow, tearing into the takeout bag and offering you the container.

“How the hell did you remember that?” You grinned, taking it from his hands and placing it in front of you. He gave a shrug of his shoulders, placing his own in front of him after he handed you the wooden chopsticks.

“You ordered it every time we went there, sunshine. Wasn’t like it was hard.” He chuckled. “And the chopsticks, because you insist on using them even though you suck at it.”

“I do not suck at it!” You argued, your cheeks burning red as he fought back a chuckle.

“Right,” he hummed, tossing you a disposable fork wrapped in plastic. “Just in case.” You rolled your eyes, but snatched it from the table anyway. You’d never admit it, but he was right. Even if your skills improved over the years, you were far from good at it.

“Care to keep going, or are you going to make fun of me all night?” You bit down on your lip to suppress the smile that was begging to show.

“Right, sorry.” He nodded, grinning over at you. He reached into the second bag, slowly pulling out a bottle that you couldn’t see the label on. As soon as he flashed it in your direction, your eyes widened and a blinding smile took hold.

“Strawberry wine.” You whispered, your gaze flickering to his face. “My favorite.”

He would never say, but it was his too, not because he liked drinking it, but because he could still remember the taste of it on your lips.

“Some things never change.” He offered you the bottle. You reached out, your eyes drifting over the label as you tried to suppress the growing feelings in your heart. “Figured you deserved a nice bottle, not the cheap shit we used to get.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You breathed, your chest aching from the surplus of love you felt for him.

“That’s not all.” He said as if it were some grandois display, reaching his hand back into the bag. When he withdrew his arm, he held two more items in his hand; a ziplock bag and a small, cardboard box wrapped in plastic.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, reaching out across the picnic table to snatch the bag from his hand. As if he knew it before you even moved, he withdrew his arm with a smirk on his face.

“Impatient, much?” He teased, holding it just out of reach.

“If that’s what I think it is, then I most definitely am.” You nodded, leaning forward and a little further. As you did so, your fingers grasped the corner of the plastic, but he tugged it away before you could steal it. You couldn’t help it, your old habits and comfortability had returned full force in his company. Your bottom lip formed a pout as you silently pleaded with him to hand over the item he was keeping away from you. As he watched your face, his expression was almost pained as he refrained from handing it over, but within a few seconds, he broke.

“God, you know that’s not fair!” He exclaimed, giving in and letting you grab the bag from his hand.

“I think it’s perfectly fine.” You snipped, a triumphant smile crossing your lips as you sat back in your seat. “I haven’t had your mom’s muffins since senior year, Jacob.” You continued, holding the bag close to you as if it were a prized possession.

“I know, that’s why I got her to make them.” He laughed, taking the loss and moving on from it as soon as he saw the elation on your face. You paused, momentarily forgetting your excitement as you digested his statement.

“You got her to make these just for me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He caught your eyes, his cheeks pink in the sunlight as he realized he exposed himself without a second thought.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his confidence. “Yeah, I did. I knew they were your favorite, so I asked her.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem lesser than it truly was. “She didn’t mind. She’d do anything for you, sunshine.”

“Jake.” You whined, your eyes brimming with tears at the thought of him and his family still caring so much. You were overwhelmed with love, never having someone care so deeply and genuinely for you since the last time you saw him. As the evening carried on, it became abundantly clear that you had given up everything, and in that moment, you felt like you were mourning the loss all over again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He reached over, cupping your face in his palm as his thumb drifted over your cheek. “Don’t you know by now, I’d do anything to see you smile?” Your eyes fluttered closed, your head automatically leaning into his touch. You couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him not only once, but twice.

“You never had to try very hard to get a smile from me.” You said, turning your head towards his hand ever so slightly. As if it were a natural reaction, you placed a small kiss to the pad of his thumb, a silent thank you for everything he had done. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your lips on his skin, but he tried not to let it phase him too much.

As much as he wanted to kiss you, to show you how much he missed you, the time was not right. He had a plan, one that he was determined to follow through with, and he had to stick to it, even if you were making it incredibly difficult to do so.

“Since we’re taking a walk down memory lane, I figured this would tie it all together.” He changed the subject, reaching to the table and grabbing the last item he pulled from the bag. He flashed them in your direction, a sheepish smile on his face as you read the label.

“Newports.” You laughed, remembering the smell of the cheap smoke stuck to his clothes wherever he went. “Big rockstar like you can’t afford better?”

“I always said I’d never smoke another one of these,” he grinned, turning the pack around so he could take a look for himself. “I’m feeling a little nostalgic, I think.”

“Cheap cigarettes and strawberry wine. Our childhood in a nutshell.” You giggled, breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and flipping the top of your takeout container open. He took a seat across from you, doing the same as you did. “You were such a bad influence.”

“Oh, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You were the one with the fake ID, sunshine.”

“Yeah, because yours looked like shit.” You laughed, shaking your head at him. “Guy at the liquor store laughed in your face when you showed him that waste of money.”

“So cruel, and for what, sweetheart?” Jake grinned, clearly unbothered by your comment. He had missed the banter that flowed so easily between the two of you, the endless jokes and the constant laughter. He was most comfortable around you, never second guessing himself and always certain that you would support his crazy ideas. He didn’t realize how much he truly missed your company until he was around you again.

“Not cruel if it’s the truth, Jacob.” You defended yourself, taking a bite of the food he had so kindly bought for you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, the nostalgia of the moment bringing you back to a better time, the best time of your life. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this off.”

“I would have done more, if I could have. Was a bit short notice, but I wanted to do something with you, even if it is a reused date idea.” He gave a soft smile, a bit regretful that he didn’t have time to plan for something more elaborate.

“Are you kidding, Jake? This is perfect.” You assured him. “My favorite food, my favorite wine, in my favorite place with my favorite person.” You listed off, sending him a playful grin. “I couldn’t have asked for more. It doesn’t matter what we do, Jake. I’m just happy I get to see you again after so long.”

“I’m so happy to see you too, sunshine. More than you’ll ever know.” He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I thought about you every fuckin’ day. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” You averted your gaze to the table, overtaken with guilt at his confession. You held remorse for forcing yourself to forget, especially after discovering that he could not do the same thing. He spent every night awake, thinking of you and wondering where you ended up, and you did everything you could to rid yourself of his memory so the pain would stop. “You know that Sinéad O’Connor song? The one that used to play on the radio all the time?”

“You turned to 90’s pop to get over me?” You giggled, teasing him over the fact. Out of all the songs, that one was not what you were expecting him to be listening to. “You know that’s not even her song, right? Prince wrote it.”

“No, smartass. Listen to me.” He laughed, waiting to share his story without your unsolicited comments.

“Okay, okay, sorry.” You blushed, conceding and letting him speak his truth.

“I was in bed one night, and I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d listen to some music, and like always, it made me think of you. You were always trying to get me to listen to new things, and in senior year you went through this huge phase with grunge music.”

“God, don’t remind me.” You covered your face with your hand, slouching in your seat as embarrassment took hold. It was not because of the music, but rather because of your obnoxious behavior as you tried to get Jake to enjoy it as much as you did.

“Back then, I listened to it sometimes when I missed you, because it was some of the last songs we listened to together. I was listening to some of Chris Cornell’s solo stuff because he was your favorite artist at the time, and he did a cover of that song. Have you listened to it?”

“What?” You asked, surprised you never stumbled across it before. “Really?”

“Yeah, and it was really fuckin’ good.” Jake chuckled. “The minute he started singing, I swear all I could see was you. I listened to it on repeat—in the shower, eating dinner, all of the time, sunshine. Josh was so sick of it he forbade me from listening to it anymore. It felt like… when I closed my eyes, I could almost picture you there beside me, listening to it too.” He explained, his honesty equal to a punch in the gut. “When Chris Cornell died, I almost called, just to see if you were okay. Sat in my room for an hour, finger over that call button, but it had been so long and I was too scared.”

“He’s still my favorite, and I was not okay.” You forced a laugh, bargaining with the lump in your throat and the sting of tears in your eyes. “I wish you called—I should have called.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, the emotion too great to shove back down. “I never stopped caring, Jake. I tried to force myself to forget about us, about how much I cared for you. It took so long, but even when I did, after I wiped my memory clean and became a whole new person, it still felt like there was something missing. When I found all of that stuff, I knew why; you were missing, and nothing has felt right since that day.”

“Sunshine,” he warned, reaching across the table and swiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t be sad. I didn’t call, either. We were both stupid, and were making up for it now.”

“I’ll never stop being sorry, bug.” You reached up, holding his hand to your face as your chest ached. “Leaving you was the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

“Let’s be sad about that tomorrow.” He tried again, guilty that his words imposed such sadness on you. “Let’s have fun tonight, and have the hard conversations later. I miss you so much, and I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” He continued, silently begging you to look at him and see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’ll talk about whatever you want when the sun comes up tomorrow, but right now, I want to be with you, just like we used to be. Can you do that for me? For old times sake?” You swallowed back your tears, taking a deep breath to calm the raging sorrow in your heart, and looked up to meet his gaze. Like always, the brown of his irises sent a warmth washing over you, more comforting than the sun and more familiar than your own house.

Still, after six years, he was home to you.

“For old times sake.” You smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Good, because I have more plans for us.” He grinned, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “And I’m not telling you what it is, so don’t even bother.”

“That’s not fair.” You argued, watching as he returned to his normal position, taking a bite of his food. He kept you in suspense for a moment, neglecting a response as you waited for him to give in.

“It’s perfectly fair, sunshine.” He chuckled. “Now relax, eat your dinner and stop worrying about everything.”

“Do you know how hard that is for me? All I do is worry.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He laughed, reaching over and opening the bottle of wine for you. “That will never change.” He smiled, offering you the bottle with a raised eyebrow. You watched him for a moment, finally letting yourself feel all of the things you locked up for so long. It felt good to love him freely, without the burden of pain that came from leaving. Right now, you were with him, laughing with him, loving him after so long of punishing yourself for it. It was liberating, and you knew he was right; you had to stop wasting your time being sad and sorrowful over your past mistakes.

“Black by Pearl Jam.” You said, snatching the bottle from his hand with a playful smile stuck on your lips. No matter how bad it hurt, you couldn’t deny the joy you felt in his company.

“What?” He asked, watching as you placed the bottle to your lips and tilted your head back. The sweet taste filled your senses, better than you expected and much smoother than the ten dollar bottles you bought as kids. You took a hearty drink, lowering the bottle from your mouth as you swallowed it down, never breaking eye contact. The glisten of alcohol on your lips was prominent under the early summer sun, making him shift in his seat as he bargained with the thoughts racing through his head.

“That was my song. The one I listened to and thought of you.” He reached over and took the bottle from your hands, taking a drink while he thought about your words. When he sat it back on the table, a smile pulled at his lips.

“Like I said, Angel. We were both so stupid.”

Dinner went by quickly, and you found yourself mourning the fact it would be coming to an end as the sun began to set in the sky. You thought it would be difficult to do as Jake asked, that you would struggle to push your sadness aside and harness the love that he was trying to give you, but as time went on, it was easier than anything you’d ever done. Being with him again was better than you imagined it would be, and sometimes, you forgot there was ever a time you were apart at all. When the wine neared the end of the bottle, all thanks to you, your cheeks were warm and your eyes glossy with adoration for the boy sitting across from you. With the help of alcohol, you let your guard down completely, and you started forget why you had it up in the first place.

Jake was packing up the mess you made, sneaking glances at you as you watched him work. You had gotten loose with your tongue and the tension in your shoulders had fully subsided, leaving you more obvious with your admiration and even passing a few flirtatious words his way. You were far from drunk, but you did have enough wine in you that the prospect of loving Jake had become much less scary and much more inviting. You missed feeling this way, carefree and happy just to exist beside him, and you were doing exactly as you were told; enjoying him for the little time he could be with you.

“Ready to hit the next stop, sunshine?” He asked, finally clearing the table off and looking at you.

“Ready.” You nodded, a permanent smile anchored on your lips. “Where is that, exactly?”

“Surprise.” He smiled, clutching the bag of garbage in one hand as he offered his other to you. You reached out, sliding your fingers over his palm and interlocking them with his. You couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through you, the power behind a simple touch that no other boy could seem to replicate.

“I hate surprises, bug.” You said, pulling yourself off the bench to stand beside him. He gave a low chuckle, squeezing your hand gently as he began to walk back in the direction the two of you came from.

“Just trust me, love.” He said, guiding you towards the trail through the trees. It was so easy for him to fall back into the same routine, and he barely had a second thought about it. Loving you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and he was happy he had the chance to do it again.

When you made it back to the parking lot, he stopped by a garbage can on the edge of the lot placed by the city to reduce littering, depositing the bag of trash he took from the table. This time, as you walked to the car, he followed you to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, holding it so you could climb inside. Before you did, you dropped your hold on his hand, stepping towards him rather than the car. You extended your arms out, wrapping them around his torso and pulling him closer to you. The tipsiness aided your confidence, but your love for him was the biggest driving force.

Without a second thought, he returned the hug with enthusiasm, snaking one arm around your waist and placing one hand on the back of your head. Your cheek rested against his chest, his partially unbuttoned shirt allowing for your skin to connect with his in a long overdue reunion. You closed your eyes, letting his cologne surround you as you soaked in the intimacy. If you could, you would have stayed there forever, happy in his arms and never having to worry about anything else.

“I missed you, Jake. So much.” You mumbled, feeling his arm tighten around your waist.

“You have no idea, sunshine.” He whispered, his head turned down and his lips pressed to the top of your head. It was the truth; you had no idea how desperately he missed you, and he had no idea how badly you longed for him to hold you just like he was in that moment.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, the warmth of his skin still felt on your face despite the distance between you, but he didn’t let you move too far away. His hand on the back of your head moved to your cheek, cupping your face as you looked up at him. The sunset in the background casted an ethereal glow over his already beautiful face, making him all the more irresistible. You wanted to kiss him, to close the gap and taste him on your tongue. You wanted to savour the sweetness of having him so close, to show him how much he meant to you despite your previous actions saying otherwise. You wanted to apologize, to make amends for the stupidity your younger self engaged in and atone for the suffering you caused him. More than anything, you wanted him.

For a moment, you thought he was feeling the same. The look in his eye was familiar, you’d seen it a million times. The slight smile on his lips, his shallow breaths and shining eyes was all eerily reminiscent of a version of him you knew so well. Instead of following the yearning of his heart, he closed his eyes and pulled away from you, going back to holding the door open so you could climb inside as if the intimate display you found yourselves in never existed at all. You blinked hard, biting down on the inside of your lip as you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. Instead of speaking on it, you turned and slid back into the passenger seat, swallowing hard as you straightened the skirt of your dress.

Did he not want to kiss you? He himself said it was a date, but every time you found an opportune moment to kiss, he turned away and shut it down. Was he afraid like you were, or was he having second thoughts about what he wanted?

You tried not to dwell, especially after he climbed in the car beside you, but it proved difficult to pry the thoughts out of your mind. When his hand snaked to your thigh, you only found yourself even more confused.

What game was he playing?

Jake’s POV

‘Just a little longer. It has to be perfect.’ You thought to yourself, trying to steady the shake of your hand as you gripped the steering wheel. You couldn’t deny the flash of sadness that crossed her face when you pulled away, and it was killing you the longer you replayed it in your head. You wanted to kiss her, more than you wanted anything in your entire life. She was it for you, everything you hoped for and everything you dreamed of, but you wanted your second first kiss to be better than the first kiss you shared all those years ago. You didn’t want your emotions to get in the way, to cloud the plans you made on your drive back to your hometown.

She deserved better than a spur of the moment kiss because you couldn’t contain yourself. She deserved everything, and you were determined to give it to her. The moment was right, and you knew that the minute it happened it would be perfect for you, but there was one thing missing, one last piece to the puzzle. You’d spent the entire day proving to her that you weren’t taking this second chance for granted, that all you were saying was true, and not just you talking out of your ass.

You remembered everything, from the smallest of details to the biggest memories shared with her. You remembered exactly how she looked in the morning, half asleep with a lazy smile across her lips as she twisted a lock of your hair around her finger. You remembered the sparkle of love in her eye on her mothers rooftop, scolding you for smoking as she sipped away at a bottle of cheap wine from the corner store. You remembered all of it, and you needed to show her that she still meant that much to you, that you spent six years ensuring her memory remained intact no matter how far away she was, and you were almost there.

The drive to the bar was nearly silent aside from the hum of the radio in the background. You knew she was overthinking the moment, that she was racking her brain to understand the mixed signals you gave her just moments before, but you knew you couldn’t settle that fear without exposing your entire plan. She was right, you were terrible at keeping secrets and horrible at surprises, but you so badly wanted it to remain that way until the moment it happened. You were thankful she expressed her desire to kiss you, and you hoped she still felt that way as the night carried on. You kept your hand on her thigh, a silent reassurance that you wanted her without having to speak it aloud. The touch seemed to calm her nerves but not settle her mind, but you could make due with that for now.

The old dive bar was familiar, not one you frequented but one that was very memorable to the both of you. As you pulled into the lot, the building the same as it was all those years ago, a different lifetime flashed before your eyes. One of the last weekend's you spent together, before she left for good, the two of you spent hours wandering the town and trying to make as many memories as you could before time would not allow for any more. You ended up here, hand in hand in the parking lot and willing to test your luck with your fake IDs one last time. Luckily for you, the establishment was so nonchalant that they never bothered to ask for your ID in the first place, and you spent the rest of your night tipsy from cheap liquor. You learned how to play pool, and as the crowd filtered out for the night, you slow danced to every song she played on the old jukebox in the corner.

As you parked, you looked over to her, wondering if she remembered it with the same clarity you did. As she turned to face you, the look in her eyes told you all you needed to know.

‘Make it to the jukebox, Jacob. You can do it.’

“I can’t believe you remembered all of this stuff, Jake.” She whispered, her eyes glimmering with another round of unshed tears. You wished you could stop forcing her into sadness, that you could be the reason for the smiles instead of the tears, but you understood that as fantastic as your day had been, it brought up plenty of unresolved feelings.

“There’s not a single thing I’ve ever been able to forget, sunshine.” You confessed, feeling the pull of gravity force you towards her again. Despite every single thing in your body screaming for you to give in, to lean over and kiss her right there, you forced yourself to stay still, forced yourself not to do the only thing you ever wanted to do. “Let’s head in.” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out of the car. You wished you could stay, to stare at her and admire the softness of her face and the beauty of her as a whole, but the longer you sat, the harder it became to keep your distance. You walked to her side of the vehicle, opening the door for her and taking her hand as she climbed out. “I can finally get my rematch. Been waiting for six years.”

“I won fair and square, Jake.” She quipped, stepping onto the old wooden stairs as she approached the door. She remembered.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, sarcasm dripping from your tone as you stepped forward to open the door for her. “You were distracting me the whole time. I think that’s cheating.”

“Please.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as a playful smile spread across her face. She sent a lingering stare at you over her shoulder as she stepped inside, begging for you to challenge her. “Not my fault you couldn’t focus on the game.”

“Actually, sweetheart, it’s entirely your fault.” You laughed, letting the door swing shut behind you. “Can’t walk around like that all of the time and expect me not to stare.” Her cheeks turned pink, shielded by the curls falling effortlessly around her face to further her beauty. She seemed in better spirits, your lighthearted teasing helping her forget the moment at the park.

You didn’t care about pool, and you didn’t care about a rematch; all of those years ago, you threw the game so she could win, just so you could see her smile. You took all of the teasing with a grain of salt and made a pact with yourself that she would never find out the truth behind her victory. Happiness looked too good on her, and you would be damned if you ever took that away.

“Drink?” You asked, slipping your arm around her waist as her eyes scanned the crowded pool table. Her head turned, her eyes connecting with yours as her face hovered inches away from your own. You noticed her eyes flicker to your lips, silently pleading with you to take the initiative.

“Sure.” She nodded, the scent of her perfume nearly making you fall to your knees. It was so familiar, something you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Now that it was in front of your face, you couldn’t believe you lived so long without it. “Manhattan, please.” She flashed you a breathtaking smile before giving your bicep a slight squeeze. “I’m gonna grab that table in the corner.” She pointed to the booth nearest to the pool table, just a few feet away from the jukebox that you were itching to get to.

“Okay, I’ll meet you over there.” You assured her, watching as she walked away from you. There was a slight sway in her step sending you weak in the knees, but you managed to push the thoughts away and turn to the bar.

You took a few strides towards the bartender, posted in the middle and awaiting your company. You sent an occasional glance over your shoulder, never able to rid yourself of the protective nature you felt when it came to her. As you saw her sitting, content as she waited for you, you turned to order. The bartender was gruff, but still friendly. He quickly fixed your drinks and started you a tab, sending you on your way within a few minutes.

Both drinks in hand, you walked over to join her, carefully placing the martini glass in front of her. You slid in the booth on the opposite side, taking a small sip from your own drink to calm your racing mind.

“Thank you, bug.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, igniting a flame in your heart you believed to be long burnt out. She was going to be the death of you, and you knew that much for certain.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” You flashed her a smile, hoping she couldn’t pick up on your anxious eyes.

“So how long are you home for?” She asked, grabbing the pick holding the cherries from her drink. Her eyes flickered to meet yours as she pulled one of them into her mouth, a dribble of the dark liquid falling down her chin as she did so. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes trained to her lips in a moment of weakness she was painfully aware of.

“Uh, few days at least.” You shook yourself free from the desire that was pushing you closer and closer to insanity. “We might stay a little longer, depending on how busy we’ll be when we get back home.”

“Full itinerary for the trip?” She raised an eyebrow, raising the glass to her lips and taking a sip from it. Her eyes never left yours as she did so, clearly hinting at something she wasn’t ready to ask aloud yet.

“No, not really.” You smirked, leaning back in the booth as you raised your own drink to your mouth. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” She shrugged, holding her drink close to her as her eyes trailed over you. “Is that a crime?”

“No.” You shook your head, knowing you would answer anything she asked of you. “Is there something else you’d rather ask me?” You raised an eyebrow wondering if you could pry the question from her, or if she would ask on her own time, no matter your response.

“Like what?” She played the game well, knowing you already knew what she was thinking.

“If we could do this again before I left?” You knew you hit the nail on the head when her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell to the table. “Second first date going so well you want a second, second date?” At that, a laugh fell from her lips, finding your question ridiculous but perfectly fitting for the two of you.

“You’re an idiot.” She giggled, but you felt her foot brush your own under the table. You reached for her hand, taking it in your own and letting your thumb drift over hers.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, lacing her fingers with yours. “I would like to go on a second date, Jake. Maybe something a little bit more tame, like a movie night at my house? Like old times?” A smile pulled at your lips, your stomach fluttering with nerves at the thought of being cuddled up in her bed again. “I can kick Mel out for the night.”

“She can stay, if she’s okay with being a third wheel.” You offered, not wanting to exclude her completely.

“Who knows? First time the tables have ever been turned like this.” She let the words slip without a second thought, her eyebrows raising in surprise at herself.

“What do you mean?” You pressed, intrigue getting the best of you.

“Nothin’,” she brushed you off, taking an abnormally long sip from her drink. You didn’t drop it though, still curious about what she meant as the bottom of the glass touched against the worn tabletop.

“Tell me, sunshine.” You pleaded, squeezing her hand to sway her decision. She let out a huff of annoyance, finding it just as hard to avoid your questions, and eventually deeming it best to answer.

“I mean, she’s never had to be a third wheel before.” She squeaked out, almost embarrassed by the thought. You couldn’t help but take note of how beautiful she looked, even in the dim light of the hazy bar. Her cheeks were rosy, a permanent smile on her lips, and her hair was falling down over her shoulders. There was a faint hint of lipgloss still clinging to her lips, and her eyes were sparkling with an overly familiar emotion. “I haven’t really… dated anyone since we broke up, I guess?” She phrased her words like a question, as if you would know the answer better than she did. “Is that stupid? No, it’s stupid. Forget I said that. I’ve dated so many people Jake, you wouldn’t even be able to believe it.” She said, shifting nervously in her seat as she awaited your answer.

“I didn’t either, sunshine.” You assured her, unable to express how relieved you were to hear her say it. “I couldn’t… I never wanted to call someone else my girlfriend, because I only ever wanted to be with you.” She let out a sigh of relief at your words, relaxing into her seat as she let the truth sink in.

“It never felt right.” She explained, toying with the pick holding her second cherry. “I tried, because after a few years I was lonely, but I just couldn’t find anyone else. They weren’t terrible… they just weren’t you. Nobody could ever come close to you.”

“Are you trying to get me to fall in love again, sunshine?” You asked, swirling the ice around in your drink before you took a sip. She was smiling as she finished off the last of hers, the alcohol taking a clear effect on her as she sat the empty glass back on the table. She grabbed the tip of the metal pick holding the cherry, extending her arm towards you and offering it to you.

“It would really be falling back in love if we never really fell out of it, right?” She asked, watching as you leaned forward and took the cherry between your teeth. You pulled it from the pick and into your mouth, settling back in your seat as the sweetness filled your senses.

“S’pose not, sweetheart.” You hummed, the newfound information igniting a fire in your heart. You glanced over your shoulder, quick enough that she didn’t notice at all, wondering how the hell you could sneak from the booth and enact the next step. “You want another drink?” You asked, eyeballing the empty glass in front of her.

“Yes please.” She hummed, her tongue trailing over her bottom lip. You swallowed hard at the sight, closing your eyes for a moment to rid yourself of the neediness beginning to grow at a rapid rate. There was something about her, so effortless and unintentional as she drove you to madness without ever realizing it. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Meet you back here?”

“Sure thing, baby.” You clicked your tongue, thankful that she made it all the easier for you to do what you needed to do. You let her exit the booth first, shamelessly staring as she disappeared into the small crowd by the door.

When she was out of sight, you rushed over to the bar, grabbing two more drinks and bringing them back to the table. You sat them down, checking over your shoulder to ensure she hadn’t come back yet. When you deemed the coast clear, you took a step towards the Jukebox—or a poor, modern excuse for one, at that. You assumed the old one was broken beyond repair, so they were forced to replace it with the electronic screen. Although it was a little easier to navigate, it took the charm from it almost entirely. Still, you knew her well, and as much as she tried to believe she wasn’t a sentimental person, she was a sucker for an old memory. The night had only further proven that to you, and when she stepped back out to join you, you would finally confess the last little bit of truth you were keeping secret.

Having the song typed in and ready to play, you turned to wait for her, holding your breath for the entire time. To you, it seemed like an eternity, but in reality, it was barely a minute until she came back into view. Her red dress flowed gracefully around her, the long curls bouncing with every step, and a smile on her face that left you speechless every time she looked your way. She was perfect, an Angel sent to earth to make everyone else jealous of her, and you were the one lucky enough to call her yours, for a second time nonetheless. You reached backwards, barely able to pull your eyes away from her as you pressed the play button. As soon as you did, it felt like the world stopped turning, like you were frozen in time until she decided if your heart was worthy of her love, one last time.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon

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lolitasangel · 20 hours

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Vampire! Noah x Reader

First time meeting

TW-mentions of humiliation, alcohol, mentions of verbal abuse

An- Hi, I’m sorry I didn’t really post anything today, it’s kind of been hard for me lately but, I will try to write more, I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I don’t really know what else to say so, enjoy this.

Taglist! 🫶🏼- @reyadawn @darling-millicent-aubrey

Noah has never cared for something so much before, yes he and his friends have been on earth for a while, have come across different people but none of them stuck with her. He didn’t necessarily want a relationship, he’s over 150 years old, what’s another alone.

That was before he found you, sitting alone outside a bar in a dark ally way, he was doing what he typically did on his free nights, which was looking for food.

That’s what you were suppose to be before he saw your asshole of a boyfriend at the time treating you like shit, and humiliating you in front of so many people.

“Y/BF/N, please don’t do this in front of other people” you pleaded, you were wearing a mini skirt with a band tee tied into a knot at your waist, ”no, no, you brought this on yourself, you asked for this, you wanted attention, you got it”

Noah originally was going to ignore the situation until he saw said boyfriend getting angrier and angrier, and by the stench of alcohol wafting over, passing through Noah’s nose, ‘gross’ Noah thought to himself.

Contemplating on what he should do as he walked closer and closer, hearing, clearer and clearer, he knew this guy was an asshole, and he could tell from your pleading you didn’t want to have a public outburst, and also knew that this wasn’t the first time this has happened.

“Look, I think the lady would rather you just leave” Noah stated looking down at the man, he really didn’t want any trouble but he didn’t like the thought of a lady being stuck with an asshole.

“Or what, she’s my girlfriend, I’ll do whatever I want with her.” the man slurred towards Noah.

Deciding that this was not what he needed, he walks over to you, leaning down in your ear, “do you want to leave? I can take you home and deal with him if you like.” Noah offered.

Noah’s been around for years, he’s seen things, heard things, and the one thing he hated was drunk assholes, especially the kind who thought they could do whatever they wanted to women or in their words ‘their women’ just because they were together.

You looked up at him, you’ve been fighting with your boyfriend non-stop, he was always a jerk to you, and has cheated multiple times but you loved him, but you knew that you couldn’t stay, he would have to figure it out himself.

Zoned out from the situation at hand, you didn’t realize that the strange man had already taken you by the waist and started to walking away from your drunk, what might as well be, ex boyfriend.

Being pulled back into reality from Noah gently calling for you, “you alright there, Angel?” You felt so tired from the night, you originally planned to go home but when you found out your boyfriend was with another girl at bar you couldn’t help but show up, seeing what you saw and you planned to leave right away, until he saw you, and that’s when the problem happened.

You didn’t want to deal with him and his drunk antics anymore, you just wanted to be held and loved by someone who loved you and didn’t just use you for sex.

“I, uh, I think so, thank you” you never felt so embarrassed in your life, of course your ex would do humiliating things but he never did anything that humiliating, yelling at you loudly to where the point you had to tell by passers that you were okay, but this time you were greatful there was someone who wouldn’t leave but instead stayed and helped you.

“You don’t need to thank me, angel, he was being an asshole, I would beat his ass but, I knew you didn’t need that as well”, you were shocked, you didn’t expect to hear that, and you didn’t expect to find someone so attractive and attentive.

Stepping under a street light, getting better features to the man standing in front of you, freckles pecked across his checks, brown eyes, full lips, and he was nice, and he felt, safe.

“My names Noah, and I’ll be the one walking you home” Noah joked to you, he really did feel safe, like home, even though you only met him a few minutes ago, you didn’t want to leave his side.

“I,I’m Y/N” you reply back, you had never felt so many emotions pass by you in only the span of 15 minutes but I guess you try something new everyday.

“Would you lead the way,angel?” Noah asks, he now had a small smile on his face, he seemed like a gentle giant, and that was okay.

On the walk home, Noah kept his arm around you the entire time, not letting you walk next to the road, and every time some would walk past you both he would pull you closer to him, he had only just met you but he was so caring and respectful.

Noah wasn’t sure why, but he felt protective over you, and didn’t want anything to do or cause you harm, and if he could he would prevent it.

You both talked on the way home about different things, hobbies, interests, all that good stuff, finding you both had a lot in common.

Arriving at your front door, turning to face Noah, “well this is it, thank you for helping me tonight, you really didn’t have to but I really do appreciate it, I hope I can repay you” you say, you really didn’t want him to leave.

“It’s no problem, I really don’t mind, I just hope that asshole doesn’t try to bother you again”

After talking a bit you exchange phone numbers, “thank you, Noah, text me when you make it home?” You ask, you didn’t want him to get hurt or in trouble on his way back home and after being so sweet to you, “I definitely will, Angel” Noah replies.

After walking back inside you had some things to think about, what to do about your ex, how you and Noah could become closer.

But non the less you were excited to get to know Noah more, he seemed like such an interesting guy, but really funny as well.

———

An- Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this, I know it’s short and not really the best, but, I do plan to rewrite this so it’s way better than what it is now.

I hope you all had a good morning/evening/night

Much, Love-LP🫶🏼

#lola’s thoughts #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian headcanons #bad omens smut #bad omens x reader #bad omens fluff

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allastoredeer · 2 days

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Do we think Mimzy knew Alastor was a serial killer when they were both alive? I know she called him a heartless son of a bitch but she also said he's a total sweetie underneath all that, two very different statements, like could it be that she knew Al as a sweetheart when he was alive and then learned about the darker side of him and why he's there when they reunited in hell?

I headcanon that Mimzy did know Alastor was a serial killer when they were alive, and that not only did she know, she even helped him on several occasions.

I also headcanon that her reliance on Alastor taking care of all her problems started when they were alive too. I imagine them as being really close friends who helped each other a lot at first, especially in hard times, but after Alastor offered to "get rid" of someone who was making her life hell, she started using him as a way to get rid of anyone who had a problem with her or inconvenienced her.

She got into more and more trouble because Alastor always got her out of it--be it through murder of a lot of smooth talking--which is where the habit first developed. Since they're now in Hell, well, Alastor doesn't have to rely to use smooth-talking anymore, he can just outright kill them. Problem solved. So much easier.

In the show, Mimzy told Alastor that he "loved taking care of her," and I actually believe it. I think Alastor does like taking care of the people he cares about, and he will go to any extent to make sure they're taken care of, which is why he never told her no or let her reap the consequences of her own actions.

Their friendship started out sweet and sincere, but overtime it became toxic. Like Husk said, Mimzy only shows up when she's in trouble, meaning she doesn't ever visit Alastor unless she needs something from him (which is so interesting, because in the same episode Charlie mentioned that Lucifer only called her if he wanted something or needed her to do something--which is exactly like Alastor's relationship with Mimzy. These two relationships are parallels of each other. And, by the end of the episode, both of these relationships had changed for the better - with Alastor setting a boundary and telling Mimzy to leave because she brought trouble to a place he doesn't want trouble, and with Charlie reconnecting with her dad and Lucifer supporting her dream and getting her the meeting with Heaven).

Back to the original subject, Mimzy's both dependent on Alastor and his power and she exploits it for her own gain. What's worse is that Alastor knows this. He knows she only ever visits when she needs him to clean up her mess, but he does it without question or hesitation anyway.

Another headcanon: even though Alastor knows she's using him to clean up her messes, he still happily does it because he doesn't see it as a bad thing. She's his oldest friend and she's in trouble (even if she was the cause of it). He's an Overlord, he has all of this power, why wouldn't he use it to get rid of a few demons? He can do it so easily, it's hardly even a chore. It doesn't matter how much trouble Mimzy gets into, because dealing with the problem is as easy as a snap of his fingers. Of course, she would come to him, she knows he can handle it. She knows he has to power to intimidate any gang lord, tear apart any loan shark, or annihilate any demon who's giving her too much of a hard time to handle on her own.

They both continue this cycle of toxicity because neither of them see's it as toxic. It's what they've been doing since they were alive. It's natural for them. It's normal. It's become such an integrated part of their relationship, that it doesn't even register as bad.

I hope we see more of Mimzy in the future and learn more about Alastor's backstory. I have so many thoughts.

#headcanons!!!!!#can you guys tell I think about Alastor and his relationships a lot #because I think about Alastors and his relationships A LOT #and i want to know SO MUCH about mimzy too #and how they actually got into this exploitive relationship to begin with #I WANT TO KNOOOOW #character analysis #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #mimzy #hazbin hotel mimzy #hazbin mimzy #alastor the radio demon #asks #anon #anonymous

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imagine-darksiders · 3 days

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Okay, so, sad girl hours right now.

Y/N has been a lot quieter than usual, and when asked “what’s wrong?” they immediately break down crying because they were having a shit day where EVERYTHING was going wrong, but didn’t want to bother anyone with their stupid human problems (there’s far greater things to worry about in the heat of the apocalypse), so they kept it bottled up only for that one simple question to shatter the dam holding them together. The four horsemen + my comfort giant ™ Ulthane.

Also if you’re having a bad day like me: one bad day doesn’t equal a bad life. You’ve made it this far; surely you can make it to wherever you want to go next! You are loved and you are valid. Don’t give up just yet. ❤️

Hey, I'm really sorry, I know you requested the Horsemen too but I got way too carried away with Ulthane, and wrote an 8000 word response to this ask lmao, and by then I thought it might be getting too long.

Content warning: This gets quite existential. Allusions to suicidal thoughts, talks about death and the inevitability of death. Depression. The end of the world. The Apocalypse, nihilism. Crying, smoking, cigarettes, emotional outbursts. Ulthane is trying his best to raise this tree full of sad, unpredictable kids.

---------------------------------------------------------------

This was always bound to happen…

Ulthane’s chest swells and sags in the wake of a mammoth sigh, like a wave kissing the shoreline before it retreats back into the tumultuous sea.

A tall, arched hollow carved out of the trunk of the Maker Tree allows him a limited glimpse of the city beyond this inner sanctum. Through the fragmented shadows of a thousand, whispering leaves, the night sky peeks back in at him, a vast, endless beast of shimmering obsidian, crushed velvet strewn above the Earth.

It’s dark out there, immeasurably so without the lights and sounds of a population that had once been two million strong.

He would have liked to have seen it….

From his usual post at the anvil nestled deep inside the cavity of the great tree, Ulthane’s gaze calmly trails after a tiny, tiptoeing shape that hugs the wooden walls, a dark silhouette creeping through the hollow and out onto the plateau overlooking Haven City.

Again, the brawny maker exhales a long, gentle breath as he lowers his hammer to the anvil and drapes a burly forearm across the cool, flat surface, ears tipped towards the ground in unhappy contemplation.

He recognises the silhouette.

It can only be one human.

You. Your stature, your gait. Not to mention that this is the third time in as many days that he’s spotted you leaving the safety of the sleeping nook to venture outside and into the wild, chilly night.

The first time, he’d merely turned you right back around at the entrance, giving you a gentle nudge with his fingertips and a disgruntled reprimand about not leaving the tree after dark… Or at all for that matter.

Your face was tilted down then - he assumed in embarrassment – as you slumped your way back up to the nook, never letting him catch a glimpse of your expression, and never speaking a word to the huge, hovering maker.

That alone had stirred a modicum of unrest in the back of his mind.

Typically, he’d had very little trouble getting a conversation out of you. But that night, he brushed your unusual silence aside, chalking it up to fatigue, or perhaps that strange habit some humans have of walking around in their sleep.

They even have a sleepwalker in their midst… Damn near gave Ulthane a heart attack when he turned around one night to find the little blighter standing motionlessly just behind his boots, their mouth slightly ajar and their eyes lidded full of sleep, staring past him at nothing.

The phenomenon is yet another curious facet of human biology he wishes he could share with an old friend of his.

Alas…

Ulthane had elected to keep a closer eye on you during the nights, even warned Elanya and Yarin that they might have another walking sleeper on their hands.

He’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it might have just been a one-time occurrence.

His hopes were dashed when it happened again.

Ulthane had never had his own younglings. Never really gave it much thought beyond his brother’s teasing.

‘You sure you don’t plan on havin’ yer own?’ Thane guffawed unhelpfully as he watched his disgruntled brother fish a tiny, spluttering Karn out of the aqueduct that runs adjacent to Muria’s garden. ‘You’d make a good sire.’

‘Not until you have some first,’ Ulthane groused back as a way to escape answering, settling the boy on his knee with a fist clenched around his overall straps, like scruffing a pup. Ulthane had made a mental note then and there to teach Karn how to swim the very next morning. Preferably in the Fjord, and not in their sacred waterways.

Helping Eideard raise Alya and Valus was preoccupying enough, and then Karn was born a few centuries after the twins hit their adolescence. The boy lost his dam, and thus it fell to the other makers in Tri Stone to keep their littlest tyke out of danger as best they could.

In hindsight, Ulthane is grateful that he had any experience with younglings at all, because sometimes, taking care of a tree-full of humans feels a bit like wrangling toddlers who won’t do as they’re damn well told. Oh, they used to, back when they first met the giant and were utterly petrified of him. He didn’t like that much, but at least when they feared repercussions, they actually listened if he told them not to go outside, not to talk to the demon lurking on the plateau, not to climb the upper branches, not to drink the rubbing alcohol, not to sleep in their bedrolls with their boots on, and…

Ulthane wrinkles his nose and groans as he scrubs a rough hand down his face. Stone be damned, maybe he would have made a good sire after all.

The second night, you’d managed to slip past the vigilant maker without detection. He only realised something was amiss when, from the corner of an eye, he’d caught a tiny, orange glow blooming to life in the pitch-black dark beyond the hollow.

Immediately alert, he’d lifted his head from his work at the anvil to look properly, and found his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. There was a soft glow, small and round hovering in the darkness outside, several feet above the ground.

He squinted at it, watched it flare brightly for a moment before it receded to a softer burn once more.

….

“I’m just having a smoke,” you’d uttered tonelessly as he tromped through the hollow to find you leaning on the wooden ridge that separates you from a nasty, two-hundred-foot plummet to the city square below.

You didn’t turn around as you spoke. You didn’t need to. You could have heard the giant coming from a mile away.

Stealth isn’t something makers usually bother with…

Ulthane almost thought he should be angry. You’re a smart human. You should have known better than to leave the safety of the tree. But all he found when he loomed close enough to actually peer down and sideways at your face was something that took his great, thumping heart in a fist and wrung it dry.

Sad… is too gentle a word for it.

What he saw in your face at that moment, peering out over the city, shrouded by night’s enigmatic hue, was far more alarming to the burly maker than he’d ever admit to you aloud.

Oh, there was sadness there, certainly. But it was also so much worse than that.

With humans, it’s all in the eyes, he’s found. Humans have such astoundingly expressive eyes.

Dark pupils that expand and contract. Sclera that turns red from fatigue or anguish. Lashes that glisten like jewels when tears escape the confines of their eyelids.

Ulthane might be reduced to a soft-hearted fool whenever one of his – the - humans cries, yet he can’t stop himself from finding the act ethereally beautiful, in a way.

Tears are rare in other species, even among the younglings. In his own village, the river that brings them water is referred to colloquially as the Tears of the Mountain, a name steeped in reverence, life-bringing water.

There were tears on your lashes that night, he recalls.

They sparkled in the gentle glow cast by a thin, white stick that dangled loosely between your parted lips.

As the maker stared down at you, trying to decide whether he should be relieved you hadn’t ventured any further than that, or livid that you were out there at all, you raised your hand to your mouth and held the stick steady between two fingers, drawing in a slow, uneven breath. Ulthane watched on, captivated by the end of the stick burning even hotter in the deep, blue twilight.

Plucking it from your mouth entirely, you’d exhaled, and he was even more amazed to see you breathing out smoke, like dragon-fire. Ulthane could do little else but gawk down at the elegant cloud of white as it billowed through your lips and drifted up towards the sky. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a dragon… Looking at you then, he couldn’t shake the image of a poor, lonely beast gazing forlornly over a home it would never get back.

Ulthane had seen such looks before, on the faces of his fellow makers when their home fell prey to Corruption. The foul plague drove them further into the outer reaches of their own realm, trapping and isolating them, stealing their bodies and using their own people as puppets against the survivors.

One by one, the makers fell, those who were brave or foolish enough to try and fight back.

He’d watched the younglings lose their hope, their wonder at an infinite Universe. With each maker felled by the vile darkness spreading its tendrils across their land, the resolve of those that were left started to waver.

There was a pattern, Ulthane noticed, in those who were closest to death. They stopped being scared. They stopped being outraged and desperate to save their homes and themselves. Resignation became an entirely new plague, killing off the once bustling village of Tri Stone until only he and a few others remained. Apathy grew like a tumorous thing, deadening the eyes of all but the stoutest hearts and minds.

That’s what you looked like, he’d realised with the lurching, ominous chill of dread creeping up his stomach walls.

Resigned.

Hardly alive, just existing. Existing until the inevitable, as if you were already hand in hand with Death just waiting for the nod.

This was always bound to happen…

“Thought I told you to stop sneakin’ out here,” he’d eventually rumbled, his tone gruff and guarded, but his intentions couldn’t be softer.

You didn’t react to the maker’s words, merely continued to gaze out at the skyscrapers reaching up towards the stars. “Didn’t want to smoke inside,” you said quietly, “The others shouldn’t have to breathe this shit.”

All that did was set alarm bells blaring in Ulthane’s skull.

Pale, blue eyes turned to glare sharply at the innocuous stick poking through your teeth.

“And, er… Should you be breathin’ it?” His loaded question held a merit of danger to it, like the hammer of a gun, cocked and ready to fall at a moment’s notice if he doesn’t hear what he wants to.

Which made it all the more surprising that you didn’t immediately try to ease the maker’s nerves as you usually would. Instead, you raised your shoulders in a lazy shrug and hummed, “Either the demons kill me, or this cig will. Doesn’t really matter at this point, does it? Who gives a shit?”

Another odd, human colloquialism, but he got the gist.

Ulthane still isn’t particularly proud of what he did then.

Maybe it was the blasé reference to your own mortality or the blunt ultimatum, or even the suggestion that your life isn’t cared about. Something struck a nerve, and Ulthane wasted no time in reaching down and using the very tips of his thumb and forefinger to pinch the burning end of the ‘cig’ and pluck it out from between your teeth, unaffected by the tiny fire singing his calloused skin.

And then came the most egregious act.

He tossed it, flicked the tiny thing from his fingers and sent it sailing over the wooden ledge where it fell, down, down and further down until its glowing ember disappeared in the darkness dozens of feet below, extinguished by the rush of wind hitting its stub.

Ulthane fully expected some sort of retaliation. He even hoped for it. Anger, indignation, frustration. Hell, he half wanted you to round on him, all fire and brimstone and spewing venom, demanding that he go down there and retrieve your stolen treasure.

Anything. Anything at all that would have returned a little life to your lustreless eyes.

What he got instead was a deathly-quiet voice that cracked at the end of its sentence. “That was the only one I had left…”

Ulthane thought it might have hurt less if Yarin slugged him in the gut.

Looking back on it now, as he stands at his anvil watching you traipse aimlessly into the dark for the third time, Ulthane finds he can hardly blame you for resenting him.

You and the other humans… You don’t have much left anymore. And what little you do have is cherished with fierce devotion. Even the most mundane things. He can still recall the ghoulish howl one of the women emitted after her bracelet’s string snapped, spilling colourful beads across the floor of the tree, her desperation as she clawed after them, wailing. You were among the first to drop down and search with her. “We’ll get them all back, Sam,” you soothed as she clutched the broken elastic to her breast with one hand, knuckles bone-white, “We’ll find them, it’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

It was never just a bracelet.

And that tiny, little stick you called a ‘cig’ probably meant more to you than the old maker could ever comprehend.

A low, resonant hum starts up deep in the base of Ulthane’s throat as he tracks your silhouette across the hollow until you vanish out onto the gloomy plateau. Perhaps he should leave you be tonight…

With a grunt, the maker focuses back on the little talisman sitting on his anvil – a gift for the Horsman, whose efforts to recover more survivors from the crumbling city haven’t gone unnoticed.

Readjusting his grip on the hammer, he taps it half-heartedly on the metal casing, ears pinned back as he tries to quell the nagging thoughts scurrying about in his skull.

Suppose you fell off the plateau… Suppose you were spotted by a dusk-wing flying by overhead…

Ulthane manages to restrain himself for all of five minutes before he frustratedly tosses his hammer down onto the anvil’s surface with a resounding ‘clang,’ and shoves himself away from the workstation, stomping off towards the tree’s hollow, his brother’s laughter ringing in his ears.

In his haste not to hurry, he fails miserably, and at last comes bursting out onto the wooden plateau, eyes zeroing in on the small shape ahead of him.

It’s more of a relief than he’ll ever admit to find you leaning on the ridge, just as you had the previous two instances, arms draped across the top, shoulders hunched, your head ducked into the collar of a light, grey jacket.

Holding a breath in his lungs until he’s confident he can let it go quietly, Ulthane draws closer.

As he does, a sudden white cloud billows from your mouth, and the maker almost thinks you’ve managed to scrounge up another of those ‘cigs.’ But when he comes to a slow, heavy halt beside you and glances down, he can’t spot anything of its likeness hanging between your lips.

Belatedly, he finally realises what’s wrong.

It’s cold out here. At least it must be for a human with parchment-thin skin.

You barely acknowledge his presence as he reaches for the blue, well-worn cowl wrapped around his neck. Ulthane makes sure to grumble aloud as he pulls it over his head. “Hmph…catch yer damn death…” he mutters grumpily, pretending that the mere act of draping it over your shoulders and using the pads of his fingers to wrap swathes of warm fabric around you is a terrible inconvenience. He also tries hard not to fixate on the way his cowl spills down your back to pool at your feet.

Maker’s bones… You’re so tiny.

Sluggishly, you roll your head sideways to peer at the makeshift blanket, giving Ulthane a proper glimpse of your flat, unreadable expression lit by the luminous moon hanging overhead in a star-spattered sky.

Something ancient and primitive inside him is immensely pleased when you don’t reject the offer of warmth. It settles him, leaves his restless soul satisfied, though only by a small margin. You’re still out of the safe confines of the tree, in the dark, after all.

Everything else about the maker’s nature still urges him to get you out of the open.

But Ulthane has been around long enough to recognise a pattern when he sees it.

This is the third time he’s found you out here, alone.

Twice was a coincidence. But three times?

Deliberate.

He needs to get to the bottom of this now.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he mutters, withdrawing his hands but lowering his hefty bulk onto one knee to be closer to your height. It’s only after he says it out loud that he realises, he’s right. You have been quiet lately. Moreso than usual.

For several, long moments, you remain inert, blankly staring down at the fabric cocoon you’ve found yourself in. “Have I?” you ask in a whisper, brows twitching as if they want to furrow but can’t muster up the energy to.

Humming pensively, the maker raises his head, keeping you in the corner of his watchful eye. “Been missin’ you at the anvil…” he admits, shrugging a massive shoulder to try and retain a modicum of indifference. If you only knew how much he looks forward to your company, he’d never be able to look you in the eye.

“In fact,” he adds, adjusting his weight, “Only time I seem to catch you nowadays s’when I find you out here. Where you aren’t s’posed to be.”

There might have once been a time when merely adding a stern inflection to his voice would send you cowering away from him. Some of the humans who are newer to the tree still do it. But you, over time, had stopped, realising that Ulthane was as likely to hurt you as he was to fly to the moon.

But it wasn’t often that he had to add those inflections. And if ever he did, it was usually because you or one of the others was doing something you really shouldn’t have been doing. Even then, you may not have cowered, but you’d certainly have the decency to look admonished, apologetic even. You’d offer the maker a quick, sheepish smile that worked wonders to appease him and earned him hours of teasing from Elanya and Yarin.

Now, however, he gets nothing. Not a flinch, nor a quibble. No sheepish yet disarming smile that puts a youthful quiver back into his heart. What he gets instead is a weary sigh, followed by a decidedly bitter, “Maybe I just want to be left alone, huh?”

A disconcerting pang hits him right in the pit of his stomach… Something is definitely wrong.

Perhaps it’s narcissistic of him to presume, but that one, barbed request from you is enough to set off a needling voice at the back of his mind, one that callously plants the seed that all of this - your behaviour, your apathy, your twilight excursions – somehow, it’s all his fault. Casting his brain about, he tries to think of something in particular he’d done that would cause you to seek distance from him, all the while pretending it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it does. Aside from tossing your last ‘cig,’ he doesn’t land on anything that sticks out. But you’d fallen quiet and withdrawn long before that incident occurred.

Then again, he is still trying to wrap his head around all the complexities of the human social structure… As he considers it, he realises with a sinking feeling that it’s highly likely he’s committed some sort of faux-pas and never even noticed…

Shit.

Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he untucks his braid from the confines of his tunic and exhales roughly, nostrils flared in agitation.

“Look…” he sighs, roving his gaze out to look at the silhouettes of a dozen, towering skyscrapers, “M’not… V’e always been more for brawn than brain, mm?” Pausing, he raps at his skull with a solid knuckle. “So… If I… said somethin’ I shouldn’t have… and it… changed the way you see me-…”

Again, his voice trails off, and he returns his eyes to you, finding you tilting your face up towards him with the tiniest crease sitting between your eyebrows.

Are you angry at him? Confused?

It’s so hard to tell sometimes. A human’s face can tell a thousand little stories with one twitch of the muscles, fluid in a way makers and other species could never hope to be.

Ulthane’s chest gives a rumble, like something massive and subterranean passing far beneath the Earth’s crust. He truly hopes you aren’t angry at him.

“Just…” A pair of immense shoulders sag dejectedly as the maker squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself before he pries them open again, peering down at you from underneath his crumpled brow. “Just tell me what I said,” he finally croaks, “And I’ll never say it again.” He never intended for it to sound so much like a wounded plea, wants to weld his mouth shut when his voice breaks unexpectedly.

Son of a bitch. These humans must be starting to rub off on him.

Deafening silence chases the end of his sentence, and for a time, he’s stuck observing your face fall gradually from a nearly imperceptible frown to a solemn, sympathetic wince.

“Ulthane… It… Hhh.” A rush of air bursts out of your parted lips, harder than a sigh. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, he realises. Dragging your eyes over towards the distant city, you gaze out at it for a second before returning them to the underside of Ulthane’s chin, your lips tilted down at the ground. “Listen. I’m not trying to be a dick, a-and I mean this in the best possible way… but it isn’t about you, I promise… You haven’t done anything wrong.” It’s the firmest voice you’ve used yet.

Glancing down, you blink miserably at the toes of your shoes poking out from under his oversized cowl. “I’m sorry,” you add, this time in a far gentler, wobbly lilt, “I’m sorry I told you I wanted to be left alone. It isn’t your fault.”

Oh… that’s… actually a lot more relieving than he’d care to admit out loud.

The speck of lightness that lifts his chest doesn’t last for long, however.

There still begs another question, one he’s hardly qualified to be asking… If your issue isn’t with something he’s said or done… then…

The notion suddenly occurs to him that you might be getting grief from someone else. One of your fellow humans, perhaps?

Before he can wrestle it down, a hot burst of protective indignation flares up in his chest. He’d have noticed, surely. Wouldn’t he? He’d know if one of his charges was being upset by someone while under his roof… Right?

Griping unhappily, Ulthane reminds himself that he’s nothing if not a persistent old bastard. And when he’d made his quiet, private oath to protect what remains of a species he inadvertently helped to eradicate, he didn’t just pledge his protection to their physical wellbeing.

The tremendous breath he exhales through his nostrils is strong enough to disturb the hairs on top of your head, a fleeting reminder of how even the smallest gesture from a man his size can affect you in some way…

“Right then,” he rumbles with a deliberate edge to his tone that sets your shoulders tensing under the soft weight of his cowl, “But there is somethin’ botherin’ you, aye?”

He sees you stiffen, watches the flicker of something raw and frantic pass over your dainty face. Then, he sees that mask of apathy fall back into place, hiding yourself away from him once more.

“Nothing’s bothering me, really,” you deflect, shrugging one shoulder as nonchalance might throw him off the scent.

Ulthane’s bushy eyebrows dip at the centre of his forehead. ‘Not having that...’

The sound of creaking leather and clanking metal fills the air as Ulthane adjusts himself onto two knees at your side, resting back on his hindquarters.

You actively jump at the sensation of a colossal palm cupping around your back, almost leaping away entirely before you realise what it is and force yourself to go still again, allowing the maker behind you to push warmth and sincerity into your windchilled bones.

As he covers your fragile spine with his hand, Ulthane’s instincts lay their rearing heads back down, appeased to have a physical wall of muscle and flesh standing between you and the outside world.

“Reckon I’d know if somethin’ was wrong with my favourite human,” he says, only half-joking, regarding you closely to gauge your reaction.

“Favourite?” you scoff wetly, “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

Giving a chuckle, he replies, “Maybe…” A heavy pause, then… “S’it workin’?”

Instead of a response, you suck down a lungful of cold air, letting it all go again in a slow, shaky breath. “You should go inside, Big Guy,” you whisper, turning to lean your weight against the wooden ridge again, “I’ll be fine in a minute. Just need a little more fresh air.”

Would it be hypocritical of him to call you a liar?

Shifting his weight, he hums - a tectonic, mellow sound coming from deep in the cavern of his chest. “Nah,” he decides quietly, “Reckon I’d rather stay out here with you till you tell me what’s wrong…”

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t feel he needs to.

“Oh…” Your breath hitches. Already, you’ve started to tremble beneath his palm, and he’s fairly confident you can’t accredit it to the cold.

Persistent as he is, the Old One is also a patient maker. And while he doesn’t especially like the idea of letting you stay out here all night, if it gets him to the bottom of this silent state of mind you’re in, then it’s a bullet he’s happy to bite. Besides, he’s quick to remind himself that he’s here with you.

The other humans are safe inside, carefully watched over by the ever-attentive Yarin and a devoted Elanya. The pair have taken to guarding the upper nook where their charges slumber at night.

Which leaves Ulthane free to guard this wayward soul. He’s glad to. Outwardly, he wouldn’t usually even allude to keeping favourites. After all, it’s a badly kept secret that he has a soft spot for all the humans he’s brought here, even the elusive and ungovernable Jones who leaves the tree so frequently, Ulthane is convinced the man is trying to send him to an early grave.

But you… The soft spot he has for you is especially tender.

There in the darkness, he waits, silent and still, an unmoving sentry at your back.

Minutes pass, and only the hushed whispering of ten million leaves breaks the spell of quiet settled around you.

And then, an entirely different sound disturbs the peace. One that’s much closer to home.

That first wet, convulsing sob tugs the maker’s ears down a fraction, but he lets out a sigh, giving your back the gentlest of pats, encouraging another bleat of misery to jump out of you before you can stuff it back down your throat.

There you go…

Once the first few cries are shaken are loose, there’s no damming the flow.

Hands fly up to crush against your mouth as you lurch forwards into another sob, burying your face inside the relative privacy of your palms.

Before Ulthane can adjust his hand to catch you, your legs promptly buckle and give way under you, sending you crashing to your knees in front of the ridge and collapsing against it, turning sideways away from him, shoulder pressed to the wood.

All the while, his hand remains adhered to you.

Your back jumps up and down beneath his palm, broken sounds squeak out through the miniscule gaps between your fingers, and a confusing jumble of guilt and relief mingles together in the maker’s chest.

Crying isn’t something exclusive to humans, but they’re by far the most prone to it.

Ulthane tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s pushed you to this, like some, tenacious bully. His old soul yearns to extinguish any source of distress you might face. You’ve had enough anguish to last you a lifetime, after all. But the guilt he feels is buried well beneath a much more potent relief.

This had to happen.

‘This is good,’ he tells himself staunchly, trying in vain to steel his ancient heart against your soul-crushing cries, ‘This is better than the emotionless vacuum you were floating in before.’

Your body jerks viciously with each, strangled sob, teeth pressed against the skin of your palms to muffle each sound you emit.

You’re trying your best to be quiet. Subdued and secretive in your unravelling.

He knows he’s the one who wanted this to happen, but that doesn’t make it any less jarring to see you cry.

A century ago, if anyone were to ask Ulthane if he’d describe himself as a comforting maker, he’d have laughed himself hoarse. A bruiser like him? Comforting? He supposes it’s still laughable today.

Sometimes, he catches himself wishing he knew where Azrael had disappeared off to after the seals were broken. The angel would know what to say to you, no doubt. Daft bird is even more of a sap than Ulthane where humans are concerned, and ferociously intelligent to boot, even among Heaven’s scribes and scholars.

Why the White City’s brightest mage had decided that Ulthane was a maker to befriend, is a mystery that would have any sage scratching their heads and offering a helpless shrug.

‘Still,’ he muses, frowning gently down at the human quivering beneath his fingers, ‘You haven’t pulled away entirely yet.’

So perhaps, despite all of his clumsy, heavy-handedness, he might not be doing as terribly as he thinks he is…

Absently, Ulthane smooths his calloused thumb up and down your back, hyper-aware of the notches in your delicate spine. He’s glad he opted not to don his thick, leather gloves this evening. He feels gentler without them…

The cowl, however, has begun to slip off your shoulders, dislodged a little further with every breath you choke on.

Just as Ulthane withdraws his hand from your back and pinches the fabric to readjust it, his ears register a broken whisper drifting through the air.

“It’s all gone, Ulthane,” you squeeze out at last, hands cupped pitiably over your mouth so you can drag in a shuddering breath, “Everything’s gone. God – fuck!”

All at once, the cowl slips from his fingers and falls around you once more as the maker goes very still, his gigantic hand hovering stiffly above you. Slowly, a pair of pointed ears pin themselves against the sides of his skull, and a cold splash of realisation douses his chest in ice.

If he weren’t worried about startling you, he’d smack a palm over his forehead as comprehension ploughs into him like a runaway stone rolling down a hillside.

Of course…

How could he be so blind? Oh, he’s such a fool!

The most obvious reason is literally sitting in plain sight all around him, yet somehow, he didn’t see the woods for the bloody great tree slapped bang in the centre. He assumed your troubles were smaller, simpler. It feels like an insult to you, deducing that your despair was due to something so trivial as an untoward comment.

Hanging his head, Ulthane’s face twists up in shame.

Trembling like the leaves overhead, you clutch desperately to your own shoulders, fingertips bunching into the blue fabric draped over them. “What the Hell are we even doing?” you blurt out, ripping your hands away from your face and wringing them in front of you, “The world just fucking ended! It’s over, a-and we’re just sitting up here like… like fucking rats in a sinking ship!”

By now, you’re almost shouting, losing control of your own voice without any residual strength left to keep the emotions you’ve buried so deep from rising to the surface and bursting like pustules on your tongue.

It must hurt you to bare yourself like this, it is hurting you. The sudden change in your demeanour freezes Ulthane solid for a few, uncertain seconds, though he doesn’t stay motionless for long.

When you rush to swallow another breath, he stretches out an arm and envelopes you in his hand once more as if the weight of it might keep you from springing to your feet and fleeing at the slightest provocation.

You buckle under the appendage, leaning forwards to gulp in another lungful of air that collapses into a heart-wrenching sob. “I-I just-!” But you stuff your lips together to trap the rest of the words.

Ulthane latches onto your reluctance with a discontented hum. “Come on now,” he utters, wrapping large but cautious fingertips around your shoulder and trying to coax you into turning to face him, “Won’t do you no good keepin’ it all in now, eh?”

Your only response is to give your head a rapid shake, digging your fingernails into the cowl as you resist the giant’s gentle tugging. “I can’t,” you croak, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” the maker argues, “You can.”

It’s so matter of fact, you almost believe him.

For several, unpleasant moments, your breath continues to catch in your chest as your shoulders hitch up and down, and still you refuse to turn around and face the giant looming behind you.

Then all at once, like a flipped switch, the tension in your body disappears and you deflate like a ruptured lung, sagging in on yourself so abruptly, Ulthane jerks forwards, assuming you’ve passed out on him.

Before he can scoop you into his hand however, you shift, using your shoulder to shove away from the ridge and arduously manoeuvring yourself around until you’re leaning back against the solid wood. Reluctantly, Ulthane allows his hand to slide off your spine and it flops dejectedly into his lap.

You still won’t meet his gaze.

At least he can see your face though.

He always thought he had a heart of steel before he came to Earth, even liked to think that millennia of experience and trials would have left him immoveable and stoic like the maker heroes in Eideard’s stories.

It’s remarkably humbling to gaze down into the face of a human and realise he doesn’t know himself nearly as well as he likes to think he does. Because one glimpse of the wetness shining off your cheeks and the rivulets cutting glistening tracks down to your chin has Ulthane Blackhammer fighting back the urge to press a hand over his lurching heart.

He draws back a little with a soft intake of breath, gathering his thoughts before he presses his lips together into a resolute frown and leans towards you once more, his monstrous fingers shuddering with the effort of moving slowly and carefully enough to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek.

That’s when you finally look at him.

Dazzling eyes shine with tears as they venture up to meet his own.

Your mouth opens, and in reverent anticipation, Ulthane pulls his hand away from your face, ears tipped forwards to listen.

“I just want it to be over,” you utter, so softly that he has to strain to hear you, “I can’t stand it… I can’t stand just waiting around to die…”

Ulthane’s jaw clenches firmly shut.

“Who says you’re dyin’?” he retorts, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended, “Yer not goin’ to die.”

This time, your shoulders jump with humourless laugh instead of a sob.

“Look around you, Ulthane,” you hiccough, gesturing a floppy hand at the city to your back, “Every day could be the day those demons decide to climb up here and finish what they started. We all know it’s bound to happen. I wish they’d just… get it over with!”

The maker opens his mouth to argue, to gruffly retort that he’d never let the bastards get within a metre of you without having to go through him first, but you’re already carrying on.

“We’re all just living on borrowed time! And I can’t-!”

One again, your voice falters and fades, dying in your throat.

Swallowing audibly, you let your head fall forwards until your chin almost rests on your chest.

Ulthane works his clenched jaws apart, watching from beneath heavily furrowed brows as you lift your hands up in front of your face and stare down at your palms as if there’s an answer in them somewhere, if only you could see it.

“I just can’t keep doing this…” you finally murmur, letting your arms fall into your lap.

Apprehensive, Ulthane prompts, “Doing what?”

You don’t reply right away, and his heart is steadily making its way up into his throat by the time you pose a question, disregarding his own. “You ever think… it might be better to just… like… get it over with?” you ask, eyes pinched in tormented thought, “Instead of waiting for something even worse to happen?”

Suddenly, Ulthane hates the idea of you being so close to that two-hundred-foot drop.

The hand he’s braced on the ground to keep himself steady curls into a fist until his knuckles dig achingly into the wood underneath him. “No,” he all but growls in response, curling his lips back at an unseen threat, “It wouldn’t be better.”

“God…” Your head tips back, the base of your skull clunking against the ridge behind you as you squint tearfully up at the maker. If he looks closely, he almost imagines he can see the full moon reflected in your eyes. “There’s no future for us… We have nothing left. Everything humanity has ever worked for… millions of years of history… it’s gone, Ulthane. It’s just gone.” Another couple of tears slip past your lashes and dribble down your cheeks. Your bottom lip quivers. “There’s no coming back from this… is there? So why are we still bothering?”

Suddenly, the maker hauls himself to his boots – and he’ll be damned if he acknowledges the spike of real, unfamiliar fear that jabs him through the ribs. “Stop it,” he warns… Begs…

For a moment longer, you just look at him with that tired, beaten frown, then you lower your eyes and the moonlight disappears from them, leaving them dark and shadowed by your eyelashes.

“Yeah,” you sniff, “That’s why I’ve been quiet lately…”

Ulthane’s blood rushes through his ears and he’s struck with the urge to start pacing up and down along the tree’s outer path. Later, he’ll recognise it as adrenaline.

“Stone’s breath…” he huffs mindlessly, scrubbing a hand down over his beard. He’s bristling against an enemy he can’t put his fist through, and it wars with the maker’s reflex.

This is… this is so much bigger than he is… and that’s saying something.

He thought he’d be prepared for this if it happened. But all he’s been doing is burying his head in the sand, hoping that optimism and a steady, day to day routine of survival would keep the humans from losing their last dregs of hope.

The surrender in your voice, your eyes, your words… It’s like you’re there already.

What if he says the wrong thing? What if he can’t pull your toes back off the ledge?

What would Azrael say? What would Eideard say?

Something poignant, no doubt. About how hope is never lost so long as you’re still alive to fight for it.

But Ulthane is a defender, not a sage. His priority is your safety.

In a moment of clarity, he clings to that one fact, pushing for reassurance above all else.

Rattled, though not quite ready to face why, the Old one levels a finger at you, pointing it determinedly down at your face. “Now, you listen to me,” he starts, “I won’t hear no talk about how you’re not comin’ back from this. Moment you start thinkin’ like that, it’s really over. And I’ll certainly not be lettin’ you think those demon’s’ll be the end of you. Alright? You’re livin’ to the end of a long, safe life, so help me Stonefather.”

At the end of his reprimand, you try to smile up at him, a pitying thing that tells him everything he needs to know.

You don’t believe him.

“You have a future,” he continues, steadfast, “I’ll give you a future. I’ll make one for you, carve it out with my bare hands if I have to.”

He’d drag you kicking and screaming to the life you deserve if it comes down to it.

Eyes drooping heavily, you start to look down again.

“M’not lettin’ you lose hope,” Ulthane growls in response, and this time, he can’t stop himself from reaching down and curling a fist around you, gathering you up into his palm until you sit small and vulnerable at its centre.

You look a little surprised by the motion, blinking wetly into the old smith’s scowl as he raises you to his face and levels you with a look so full of conviction, you recoil from it, as if pushed by his sheer force of will. “You’re makin’ it through this,” he tells you unwaveringly, warm breath brushing against your collarbones. “You have to see how it turns out.”

“Even if it hurts?” you ask in a wobbly voice.

He stops just short of saying that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. But that isn’t what you need to hear. He’ll prove it to you through action.

“Even then,” he relents instead.

Resignation settles across your face then, but it isn’t the same as it was before. It’s a kind of acceptance of the inevitable, but the inevitable isn’t death.

It’s Ulthane Blackhammer.

“But…” Still, you protest. “But I’m so fucking tired, Ulthane.”

Without hesitation, he shrugs a shoulder and says, “I’ll carry you.”

“That’s not what I-“

“- I know what you meant,” the maker cuts you off, fixing you with a sharp eye, “F’you’re tired. I’ll carry you. I’m a fair bit strong, case you hadn’t noticed. But don’t go forgettin’; you’re a fighter.”

You try to shake your head with a weak laugh, but he catches your chin with a crooked forefinger and tilts your face back towards him. “You are,” he insists, meeting your owlish gaze, “Been fightin’ to keep goin’ since day one. I… can see that now.”

He really can. He’s just sorry he never told you he noticed before.

“You think you can’t come back from this? You’re wrong. You won’t know unless you try. N’those other humans in there-“ He jerks his head backwards towards the tree. “-They’re gonna need all the help they can get to rebuild. You think Jones’d remember to feed himself without you remindin’ him?

There! At last, the minutest wobble of your lips as they twitch upwards at their corners.

Chest swelling with a modest injection of triumph, Ulthane cocks his own grin at you whilst you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Now, you just let ol’ Ulthane worry about those demons,” he announces, “You worry about gettin’ some proper shuteye. Can’t teach Elanya to play cards if you’re noddin’ off every five minutes, ey?”

A laugh this time. It’s a soft, warped thing with too much moisture, but it’s still a laugh. He counts that as a win.

There’s still the same, bone-deep languor clinging to your face, yet even that is a vast improvement to the indifference you’ve been displaying of late. Quirking your head to one side, you regard the maker ponderously for a minute, brows knitting across your forehead.

Then, “You really care about us, don’t you?”

Caught off guard, Ulthane’s ears tip down, and he instinctively glances over his shoulder at the hollow to check that nobody is lurking there before returning his attention to you, lifting one shoulder in a bashful shrug.

“Well… I, erm…” Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice and shoots you a gruff look. “Don’t you go spreadin’ that around…”

As if it wasn’t as plain as the nose on his face.

Eager to change the subject, though not so eager to be rid of that fond, sombre look he's receiving, the maker twists his head around and bobs it towards the tree's entrance. "Ready to head back in?" he broaches, "You can sleep down by the anvil on my cowl, if you want." One of the beds would be better for you, but... selfishly perhaps, he wants you close tonight.

You seem to agree, offering the maker a shy nod in return.

"Yeah," you acquiesce, leaning back into the pads of his fingers that curve up behind you, providing support when your jaws part with a wide yawn.

Trying not to smile fondly at the sight, Ulthane begins tromping steadily back inside the tree, his nerves settling down as he carries you nearer to the light and warmth.

"Ulthane?"

"Mm?" he rumbles in response.

"Thanks... for caring, I mean. I owe you one."

His footsteps falter just for a second. Abaddon's face springs unbidden into his mind's eye. A golden sword and a promise that all would be well...

Swallowing hard, Ulthane wafts the memories away like a bad smell and offers his dour response.

"You don't owe me a thing."

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #Ulthane #dadthane!#tw self destruction

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 2 days

Note

Saw requests opened for Kurt and was wondering if you were interested in writing something for x-2 Kurt. Something like the reader is Charles' daughter, who left years before after a massive fight, and when Storm and Jean go to find Kurt, they also find the reader and it is revealed at some point the reader and Kurt are married and everyone is shocked because they are so different( maybe the reader is a necromancer(if a mutation needs to be mentioned)). Hope this isn't as confusing as I think it's coming off. Describing things is not my strong suit. Thank u

Against all Odds

Alan!Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 4.6K A/N: This took so incredibly long?! Really hope it was worth it. I also feel like I kind of messed up in the end, but I wanted to post it anyway.

It wasn't a smile that was on Jean's lips as Ro turned back to the centre of the church with misty eyes, but it was fascinating to see how quickly her friend could change from nice to scary. A strong wind blew up and caused the tarpaulins in the church to flutter. Pigeons soared as Ro spread her arms, eyes fixed on the bar above them, where the teleporter they had been searching for was perched.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, getting closer and closer, until seemingly out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning flashed through the room and struck the bar he was perched on. A scream escaped him as he fell, but before he could teleport away, Jean raised her hand, catching the mutant in mid-air.

His heavy breathing echoed off the walls and Jean twisted her hand slightly as she stepped closer, causing him to spin in the air.

"Got him?" Jean smiled at Ro from the side. "He's not going anywhere."

By now he was hanging upside down in the air, which allowed them to take a closer look at his face. His blue skin stood out clearly from his strange clothes and his golden eyes travelled rapidly around the room, wide open in panic. "Please, don't hurt me," he pleaded softly, still out of breath. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Ro raised an eyebrow beside her and the sarcasm in her voice highly amused Jean, despite the tense situation. "Where could people have gotten that impression from?" His eyes continued to dart back and forth between them.

"What's your name?"

Before he could answer, however, it became freezing cold in the church. Jean's gaze flew over to Ro, who shook her head. This was not her doing. Her breath became visible and a glance at the mutant in front of them showed her that it wasn't him, but he knew whose doing it was.

All at once she heard whispering. It wasn't much at first, just a lone voice that quickly swelled into a jumble of voices that gave her a headache. There was a cracking sound, similar to breaking bones, and Jean could see Ro turning round, looking for the source of the noise.

"Put me down, please." His voice was calm and he didn't seem remotely afraid, much more concerned for her well-being. "She's not in a good mood today, I don't want to..." Jean would never know what he didn't want, because at that moment a loud, cold, cutting voice echoed through the room.

"How dare you?" It was no more than a hiss, but it echoed off the walls, making it louder many times over. "How dare you threaten him, hurt him, touch him." The voice seemed to come from a corridor next to the altar and it sounded shockingly familiar to Jean, even if she was unable to determine exactly where. The floor began to shake beneath them, cracks appearing across the stone, and Jean had to lean on one of the benches to keep from falling.

The man, still in the air, shouted something she couldn't understand. It made no difference. Jean reached out in her mind for the person, hoping to reach them, but to her surprise was pushed out with a sharp push that gave her another headache. The tremor intensified, but Jean was not afraid. The small glimpse into the person's mind was enough for her to recognise them.

"Reaper, that's enough!" The tremors subsided and the cracks stopped spreading, but the whispering and rustling remained, as did the cold. She looked over to the corridor, from which a shadow finally emerged, slowly approaching. Jean had already realised who it was, but she couldn't truly believe it until the light shining through the church hit her face. Next to her, she heard Ro gasping for air. "Reaper?" A hiss sounded from the woman in front of them, who was now standing almost directly behind the man. "I haven't been a the Reaper for years." Her head turned to Jean. "Now put him down."

Her voice was pressed, almost threatening, and Jean lowered the man carefully. As soon as his feet touched the ground, she stepped to his side and wrapped an arm around him as he slumped to the floor, groaning, taken by the stress Jean had put on him. As she murmured something to him, to which he only nodded, Jean noticed how the whispering slowly subsided and the coldness receded. She glanced at Ro. Neither of them had expected this, not even the professor.

~**~

She knelt beside him, her arm on his back, and let her eyes wander over his body, looking for wounds, but couldn't see any. "I told you not to do anything stupid," she murmured, smiling slightly at him. "I can't let you out of my sight now, can I?" His smile was half-hearted, but he returned it. "I'm sorry, Liebling."

Tenderly, she ran her fingers over his cheek, the symbols of his skin under her tips so familiar by now that she could draw them in her sleep. "It's okay, I'll take care of it." She tried to get up, but he held her back by her wrist. "Don't do anything stupid." She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. " Oh, I won't."

Kurt grinned slightly and let go of her wrist so that she could stand up. As soon as she turned to the two women, however, her loving smile turned into a mask of coldness. "What do you want?"

Jean stepped lightly on her, disbelief still clearly present on her face. "How long have you lived here? Where have you been? Why-?" She didn't let the redhead finish. "You know exactly why," she hissed quietly, clenching her fists as she slowly pushed herself in front of the injured Kurt. "What I want to know is why you're here?" Jean, still somewhat taken aback, didn't seem to want to answer as Ororo stepped forward instead. "We're here because of him." She nodded over to Kurt. "Your friend has done some things that have put us all in danger."

By now her fingernails were cutting into her palms and she looked at the white-haired woman with narrowed eyes. "You will not touch him. You will not hurt him." The ground began to shake beneath her feet again and she could see the two women exchanging glances, but she didn't care. If necessary, she would fight them both - even if Kurt didn't like it, she would do it on sacred ground.

No one would snatch Kurt from her a second time, no one. Not her, not the government, not anyone else. "He's innocent. Go!" It wasn't a plea and her voice was clearly dripping with venom, which was why Jean raised her hands. "We don't want to hurt him, just talk. Whether you want to realise it or not, he did attack the President of the United States."

She heard Kurt flinch and anger boiled up inside her. It had been a long time since Kurt had even been able to look her in the eye and she wasn't going to let them put the burden of guilt on his shoulders again.

"He's innocent," she hissed and more cracks began to appear across the marble tiles in the floor, though it all came to an end the moment something tentatively wrapped itself around her wrist. Kurt had his tail wrapped around and was shaking his head tentatively. "Please, don't."

Instantly, the hot knot of anger in her stomach disappeared and she could feel her features soften. "Okay." Her gaze slid back to the two women, cold and unyielding, but no longer murderous. "Go, please. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't hurt a fly. Please." She didn't give either of them another glance as she helped Kurt up and led him over to the altar, where he settled down, groaning slightly. She knew that both Jean and Ororo were still in the church, even approaching, but her priority was to tend to Kurt.

She gently helped him out of his coat, jacket and shirt, the latter stained with blood, and shook her head at the sight before her. The security guard's bullet wound was on his arm, but she could see several bruises and smaller wounds scattered across his torso. "You really need to take better care of yourself," she muttered as he lay down and she began to search in her pockets for the disinfectant and cotton pads.

Kurt gave her a weak but sincere smile. "But I have you to fix me up." She gave him a small smile, though she knew she wouldn't be able to remove the worry from her face. Continuing to ignore the two women, she dipped the cotton ball with the tweezers into the disinfectant and looked over at him. "This is going to hurt."

His tail wrapped around her waist and squeezed lightly and confidently. Carefully, though not hesitantly, she pressed the cotton ball onto his wound. His body tensed, stiffened and his back arched up from the altar. A pained groan escaped him and she closed her eyes for a moment so as not to see the agony on his face. It had been five years and she still couldn't bear to see him hurt and in pain.

"It's all right, you're doing great," she murmured and hurried to clean the wound as best she could. Thank goodness the wound wasn't deep, so there was no need for stitches. "Good boy." He snorted in amusement, albeit painfully, and she gave him an equally pained smile.

She gently lifted the cotton pad and another hiss escaped him, which she tried to calm by making soothing noises. She applied the bandage as quickly as she could, even though he still let out the odd groan of pain, but he seemed to grit his teeth. " You see? Already over." She leant forward and pressed a feather-light, barely perceptible kiss over the bandage. "I need to take all this away and get you some new, clean clothes. Can I-?"

She didn't finish the sentence, but a twitch of her eyes in the direction of the two women was enough to convey what she wanted to say. Kurt smiled slightly and gave a barely perceptible nod. "You go ahead. They won't hurt me."

She seemed to look sceptical, which she was, as he groped for her hand and took it in his. "It's okay, Liebling. I can take care of myself." "We've seen that," she murmured, but stroked his forehead affectionately before standing up and glaring at Ro and Jean. "I'm right next door. If one of you even thinks about hurting or touching him, you'll more than regret it." She didn't have to look at them to know that they'd heard her warning, the tension radiating from them a clear sign that the message had been received.

Kurt mumbled something quietly, but it was in German and her knowledge was not yet good enough to understand him at such a mumbled volume. She contented herself with running her hand through his hair and affectionately tugging at a strand in warning before leaving the room.

The rubbish was quickly disposed of and on her way back she grabbed some fresh clothes, hurrying back as fast as she could. Once there, she was disgruntled to realise that Ororo and Jean had moved closer and were now standing right next to him. She could just hear the last words coming out of the redhead's mouth. "- the professor."

Instantly she tensed, still covered by the shadows of the pillars. It didn't take a telepath to know who they were talking about and she didn't like it at all. She had managed without him for five years and she wouldn't need him now.

Kurt, however, seemed curious as he cocked his head slightly. "The professor?" Neither of them answered his question, instead Ororo gently ran her fingers over his torso. Instantly, her grip tightened around his clothes and she had to suppress a snarl. She wasn't territorial or some other primitive instinct, but she didn't like it when people touched Kurt without asking him. Especially when it came to his scars, which were more than a weak spot for him.

"Did you do these yourself?" She closed her eyes, hesitant as to whether she should intervene. It wasn't up to her to talk about it, it was Kurt's business and she didn't want to come across as any more overprotective than she already was, so she continued to keep to the shadows. The rising whispers, however, were hard to ignore.

Kurt didn't seem to want to talk about it though, as he gave nothing more than a faint "yes" before turning round. She slowly emerged from the shadows, but not before Jean had discovered something on the back of his neck. "And what about this?"

"I told you it wasn't his fault." Her voice was sharper and colder than she intended, but she couldn't suppress it any longer as she stepped forward and placed herself between Kurt and the two women.

She hated it when Kurt had to talk about his scars, knowing full well what they meant to him. They had talked about it often and at length, especially coming from her, as such behaviour could not be healthy and it hurt her to see him in pain.

The last scar had been added four years ago. For her sake and after a few hours of intense conversation, which led him to a realisation, he had stopped.

"Mind control?" Jean asked, but she turned her back to her to stroke Kurt's arm reassuringly. "I suppose so. We don't know who, though, so don't bother asking."

There was silence while Kurt changed, supported by her. Jean only spoke up again when Kurt was able to stand next to them. "Come with us." She laughed snidely. "You're not serious, are you? You know what happened, you know why I left and yet you want to drag me back? Forget it." Kurt's tail wrapped itself gently around her middle and the tip ran soothingly over her side as he felt the floor begin to shake.

"The whole United States is after your friend," Ororo objected and she felt Kurt flinch.

"Let them try," she growled, reaching for Kurt's sleeve. "They won't get him. I won't let them."

"We're just trying to help." Ororo sounded almost desperate, but she knew no mercy as her cold laughter echoed off the walls. "Oh yes, of course. The noble help of you fine people. Our saviours are here, we don't have to worry anymore."

"Liebling," Kurt murmured and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him and realised with a mixture of surprise and dismay that he didn't seem as opposed to the idea as she was. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" She stiffened, anticipating the direction the conversation would take and not liking it at all.

"Kurt, you can't be serious," she hissed, turning away from the two women. "I've told you several times why I left, why I never want to go there again."

"And I understand that," he returned, his tail detaching from her to twitch nervously behind him. She instantly missed his closeness. "And under different circumstances, I would agree with you and watch you chase them away. But the situation has changed. I'm wanted all over the United States. And even if we're not there right now, they'll find me, find us." He stroked her cheek gently. "And I don't like the idea of you getting hurt because of me."

"I wouldn't care. I'd fight them all," she returned, knowing it was useless. "I don't want to. I don't want you to fight for me."

She closed her eyes in agony. "Darling-"

"I know," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "I know it's not fair and I'm sorry. But I just want you to be safe. Please." There was something so pleading about his voice that she knew she wouldn't be able to hold out. She still found it hard to admit. "All right," she murmured, feeling Kurt's tail curling up her leg. "But at the slightest sign of danger, we run."

~**~

Of course it became dangerous. And of course they were sitting in an plane at the time, which was threatening to crash, so they couldn't run.

She stared in horror behind her at the gaping hole from which one of the children, she thought her name was Rogue, had just fallen. Kurt squeezed her hand and she spun round to face him. His gaze was pleading and it took no words to understand what he wanted her permission for. She closed her eyes for a moment to stifle the rising panic that threatened to swell inside her before she nodded.

A life was at stake, she couldn't have the luxury of panic. For a fleeting moment, she felt his lips against her forehead before the familiar 'BAMF' sounded and his hand disappeared from hers.

No more than three or four seconds could have passed, but they felt like an eternity before another 'BAMF' sounded and Kurt slammed to the floor of the plane with Rogue in his arms.

She sobbed with relief and forgot for a moment that they were crashing. That was until Jean gasped as the gaping hole behind them began to close of its own accord and the jet slowed down. She didn't have to think long to realise who had caught her so gracefully and she continued to tense up in her seat, even as the jet carefully touched down. It seemed as if her past really was finally coming back to haunt her.

Touching down on Earth, the others began to scurry around Kurt and Rogue and as much as she wanted to get to him, she knew she wasn't going to get there. Instead, she decided to face their welcoming committee.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement as Erik watched her climb down the ladder towards him. "That I get to see this sight again." A thin line came to her lips, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Miracles happen all the time. I never thought I'd see you outside of a plastic cell." His smile turned bitter. "Little Ms Xavier, same mouth as her old man."

"Xavier?" She turned round. The others had left the jet by now, and except for Ororo, Jean and Kurt, the others were staring at her with a variety of emotions on their faces.

Erik stepped closer and her body stiffened. "Yes, Xavier. Don't tell me Reaper didn't tell you about her connection with your dear professor?"

"Don't call me that," she hissed, taking a few steps back so she was standing next to Kurt, whose tail instantly wrapped around her middle. "I left that name behind a long time ago." Erik's gaze lingered on Kurt for a few moments and she didn't like the way he was looking at him. "I can see that."

Before he could talk to her further, however, Ororo stepped forward and his smug smile returned. "I think we should talk." After some back and forth, which she only half-heartedly followed, they seemed to reluctantly agree to follow Erik. She didn't take her eyes off Kurt for a moment. "You scared me to death," she muttered, clutching his arm a little tighter than necessary. "I hate it when you do that."

"I know."

"You did the right thing, though, as much as it makes me sick." She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "I'm proud of you my love." He smiled down at her. "I love you too."

~**~

"Are you sure you're okay?" They stood apart from the others, in the shade of several trees, and she let her hand rest anxiously on his cheek. Kurt turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss against her palm. "I'm fine, love." She exhaled and wrapped her arms around him to hold him closer, to feel him as his heart pounded beneath her fingers. Soothingly, his hand ran over her back as his tail wrapped gently around her. He rested his head on hers.

"I hate it when you're in pain. Even if it's mental."

She had been against Jean rummaging around in his memory from the start, but everyone else, including her husband, seemed to be in favour of it, which was why she had been forced to watch Kurt relive the agonising hours of the last few days. "I know," he murmured, pulling her closer to him. "But I feel fine." There was silence for a while as they stood close together under the trees before she lifted her head.

"Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow. Plan or no plan, it always goes wrong. It's kind of a tradition with us." Kurt smiled down at her before taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to them. "I swear I'll do my best not to get hurt." Playfully, the tip of his tail flicked against her cheek. "I have a very good reason to get out of this alive."

"Charmer," she murmured before leaning up and kissing him gently. His response was just as tender. No tongue, no teeth, just gentle, soft love. At least until they were interrupted by a snort. More annoyed than startled, she looked up to see Logan, the grumpy old man, standing there with a cigar in his mouth, scowling at them. "You do realise there are children present?" She huffed and put an arm around Kurt's waist. "I'm pretty sure some of these 'kids' have done worse things than kiss their partners."

"Pretty sure they're not married, though." Her face seemed to look hilarious as he laughed harshly. "Girl, you may wear a lot of rings, but that one does stand out a bit. Plus, the blue elf isn't exactly subtle with the necklace and ring around his neck."

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and only Kurt's hand on her back and its reassuring circles ensured that she didn't immediately go for his throat. "Problem with that?"

"No." Logan turned away, but she knew he was still grinning broadly. "As long as you don't get too freaky. Might be awkward to explain." Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. "I hate him."

"No you don't," Kurt murmured, pulling her closer to him.

~**~

Needless to say, things didn't go according to plan. As good as her judgements have been lately, she could be a fortune teller, she grumbled quietly to herself as she turned the next sharp corner. She and Kurt had been separated and, judging by the noises around them, the situation didn't really look good for them either. However, she could hear the children's voices and ran after them, not only because Kurt was also with them, but because she knew that if she could hear them, the soldiers could too.

Just as she turned the last corner, a scream rang out, followed by gunfire. She stood stock-still and looked at what was happening in front of her for a moment. She had come up behind the soldiers. Opposite her were a group of children trying to hide behind the adults. Jean was supporting a battered-looking Scott, who was about to raise his hand. Next to them stood Logan, a child in his arms, claws raised and a grim snarl on his face.

What drew her focus, however, were the other three people. Ororo, together with Kurt, she almost collapsed in relief at the sight of him uninjured, an older man with a bald head. He looked older and frailer than she remembered, but there was no mistaking who the man was: Charles Xavier. Professor X. Her father.

Her throat tightened and, as if he could sense her presence (which he probably could), his gaze drifted over to her and his eyes widened, his expression slipping. Were those tears that made his eyes sparkle?

The moment didn't last long, however, as the soldiers raised their weapons at that moment - and pointed them at Kurt.

A growl escaped her as every corner of her body was flooded with a tingling power that made the floor shake.

"Get your hands off my husband." Her voice was not her own. It was the voice of the hundreds, thousands of souls that were haunting the place and bending to her will.

Cracks formed across the floor and began to gape open before skeletal hands reached for the sky. The children shrieked, but for the moment she didn't care. Her focus was on the soldiers who had managed to locate the source of the quake as they now looked at her.

Her smile was grim. "He's mine."

A dark fog settled over her before she even dared to fight. She wanted to spare the children the sight. The soldiers shouted orders at each other, and the odd stray shot rang out, but in the end, they had no chance. Her methods were merciful—swift, painless, and non-lethal. When the fog cleared, only a few groaning men lay on the ground. "Reaper?" Scott was the first to find his voice. She smiled slightly at him, though her focus remained on Kurt and her father. "Hey, Scott." "You're married?!" he exclaimed. She groaned, picking up one of the children running towards her. "Of course that's what you're hung up on."

"My love." She had to close her eyes for a moment; the sound of her father's voice was too painfully familiar. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had missed him terribly. "How—?"

"I'm afraid we don't have time for sentimentality." Logan's gruff interruption was a welcome relief. In that moment, she decided Logan was her absolute favorite person. She shot her father a quick sideways glance before starting to walk. "We'll talk later." She could feel his gaze burning into her back the entire way outside.

~**~

It felt strange to be back in the mansion. She refused to call it "home," even though the word often lingered on the tip of her tongue, only to be swallowed back. Her room now faced the courtyard, offering a clear view of the people outside. She had been offered her old room but had firmly declined. Below, she watched Jean, badly injured but alive, being carefully led through the garden by Scott. It had been a close call, but Jean had survived the mission. Not far from her, she saw Hank deep in conversation with Kurt. She couldn't make out their words, but seeing her husband so animated and happy brought a smile to her face.

"Your husband seems to like it here." She wasn't startled when her father's voice came from behind her. She was more surprised that he hadn't approached her sooner, likely giving her space or waiting for a moment when she was alone. "Kurt isn't used to being around so many mutants, especially those with such visible mutations. It's good for him." "So, you're going to stay then?" There it was. The question that had clearly been weighing on him, the one he desperately needed to ask. She tore her gaze away from her husband and turned to face her father, folding her arms.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Everything inside me is screaming to leave this place. And you're not making it any easier." She saw the pain flash across his face, but there was no point in sugarcoating the truth. He knew how she felt, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"You hurt me deeply. More than that. But Kurt loves it here, and I love Kurt." Her eyes bore into his, unflinching. "But I love him more than I despise you." He swallowed hard, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. "If Kurt wants to stay, I'll stay. For his sake. Not because of you."

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