#yes i want to do many things together but if i have to do everything together i will literally kill us both /hyp /j | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

13uswntimagines · 2 days ago

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All In My Head (Alessia Russo X Singer!r)

Part III of the Safe Harbor Universe. Find other parts here

Summary: Being Sick on tour sucks, but that doesn't mean that you want your team to inform your girlfriend. She has her own career to think about. The problem is that honesty is rule number 1 in your relationship.

Warnings: there is mention of a D/s dynamic, but nothing is super explicit. Alessia is referred to as daddy.

Authors note: Yes the ending is a cliffhanger. But this has honestly been in my drafts since like August, so i wanted to put it out. I'm considering a Pt. 2, but it will depend on if people want it. I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the stadium's cool stone wall and twisting the bracelet around your wrist.

Which stadium, you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, really. They all looked the same after a while anyway, blurring together in the never-ending cycle of rehearsals, performances, interviews, and meet and greets.

All your life seemed to be was performing and promoting music you weren’t even excited about anymore. It was a nonstop grind filled with late nights and early mornings, with almost no time for your well-being.

You almost wished your girlfriend had implemented a rule that placed a limit on how much you could do. At least that would give you the power to say no.

You did your best.

You squeezed in as many phone calls with your girlfriend, Alessia as you could, but she had her own commitments with the Lionesses as they prepared to defend their European championship.

Most of the time you ended up passing out over FaceTime, and waking up to texts telling you she loved you.

You understood. You both had careers and obligations. You both had to make sacrifices to get to do the things you loved.

It was… intense, but for the most part, you enjoyed it. You loved playing for the fans. You would deal with all the promotional bs just so you could interact with the people who loved your music as much as possible.

They deserved that.

And this tour had been going far better than the ones you had been on before it. You were holding it all together far better than you had in the past.

Or it had been.

It all started with a slight tickle in your throat in the city before last. A whisper of huskiness that went away with a nice steam session and some tea.

It was easy to ignore in the beginning.

Then you played 4 shows back to back last weekend.

By the end of the 3rd show, you knew you were screwed, you could barely muster a horse whisper. Alessia had commented that you sounded like a chain smoker, your first sign that she was seeing through you, but you assured her you would be fine. You even joked that you had enough throat coat and grether's pastilles to turn her off for a year. She let you soothe her worries.

You pushed on, powered my menthol lozenges and Honey, and you made it through the 4th show.

It would have been fine. It shouldn’t have mattered that your ability to make any sound at all was hanging on by a thread. The 5 days off you had should have been enough to set everything right.

Except you didn’t have 5 days off.

It was filled with promotional performances for a new album and interviews about how well it would accompany the movie it was attached to. If someone else asked you about how it felt about the possibility of an Oscar nod, you were going to scream. Or rip all of your hair out or both.

The tickle had turned to hot nails, and nothing - not the steam machine or tea and honey - had the power to soothe it.

You sounded like you were talking through gravel, and your team had been hesitant to even let you go on tonight.

Alessia definitely would not have, if she knew how bad it really was. You started avoiding her two days ago after you couldn’t make it through a sentence without a crack, and you couldn’t continue to blame the low whistle that accompanied every one of your breaths on allergies.

You knew going in that performing tonight wasn’t a great idea, but you refused to let the fans down. There were only 4 shows left. Surely you could make it.

The entire show felt like a battle.

You had to fight for every note. For every breath.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your throat was raw before you even got to the piano set.

It took everything in you to hide the thinness in your voice. To prevent every sound from cracking as you forced each lyric out.

It was…rough to say the least.

But you made it- even if it was only by the skin of your teeth.

You were shot by the time you did your final bow and disappeared backstage. You ignored the cold Gatorade being pressed into your palms, knowing it would only aggravate the glass shards in your throat, and shrugged off Steven and Clint.

You didn’t need their concern, you needed to escape the roaring in your ears. The pounding in your chest.

So you took turn after turn until you were in an abandoned section of hallways.

You sighed, grasping at your throat as you slid down the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead into the rough material of your costume to drown out the pounding in your head. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and you groaned.

The sound felt like hot coals in your throat, and it made your chest ache.

You feared that no amount of steam, or tea, or pastilles would stop it this time.

The cold bricks of the stadium felt nice against your skin, leaching the heat from your body, though it did nothing to help the fire in your chest.

A fire that was quickly moving past the gray areas in your agreement with Alessia, and into a place that your daddy would definitely have something to say about.

You were treating your limits with her like a tightrope, carefully toeing the edge. Except with the way you felt, you knew you were about to topple one way or the other.

You ignored the sounds of clicking shoes coming closer, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see you. That they would leave you be to pull the cracked pieces of yourself back together.

But your team knew better than to leave you to your own devices.

“Y/n?”

You tensed at the soft hand on your shoulders, and the sound of shifting clothing as someone settled on the ground beside you.

“You ok, kid?” Natasha asked softly, running soothing circles on the top of your shoulders.

You let out another breath before you pulled your face from its hiding spot, resting your chin on your knees. “I’m ok. Just wanted some quiet,”

You frowned at the horse whisper that left your lips, and the flair of pain that accompanied it.

Natasha hummed.

She had been part of your team from the beginning, back when you were a dumb 16-year-old, long before Pepper, Tony, Steve and the rest of the crew had joined, and she knew you nearly as well as Alessia did.

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Just some quiet?”

You knew that wasn’t what she was actually asking.

The question went much deeper.

She knew about your… dynamic with Alessia, and she had seen the striker take care of you in various ways. She was asking you what you needed.

You nodded, looking away from her, afraid that she would see through you.

“I needed a minute,” You said, your voice barely a squeak. “It was all too much, and I wanted to be alone before I got pulled into something else,”

She made a low sound at the familiar explanation. “And this has nothing to do with how you sound like you’re gargling rocks?”

You grimaced. “Nothing at all,”

She hummed. “So you’re not in any pain at all?”

“Nope,” You breathed out, the p the only clear part of the word.

“Y/n,” She sighed. “I know you have an… aversion to admitting when you’re not… at the top of your game, but pushing yourself isn’t going to help anything. You don’t have anything to prove here,”

You ran a hand through your hair and rolled your eyes dramatically at her. She chuckled at the action.

“There are only 3 more shows,” You said. “I can make it 3 more shows,”

“And how would Alessia feel if she knew you were going to put your comfort aside for 3 more shows?” Natasha asked softly. “And not just your comfort, your health. You sound like shit,”

You huffed at the mention of your girlfriend, your fingers instinctively finding the braided bracelet that never left your wrist.

You knew how she would feel. You could practically hear what she would say. I expect you to take care of the things that belong to me. I expect you to treat them with respect and give them the love and care they deserve.

“I’ve got it all under control,” You rasped, wincing at the action.

It was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure you do. Since you have it all under control, you’ll stop ignoring your girlfriend,” She pulled the device out of her back pocket and balanced it on top of your knees. “She’s been blowing up your phone all day. I think she’s worried,”

You stared at the phone, and as if on cue, it buzzed again with a new message.

Alessia was going to be furious with you, and your daddy would be on another level entirely.

She was usually the one to take the reigns when you were set on driving yourself into oblivion for the benefit of everyone else. But she wasn’t here.

You sighed heavily.

You knew that if you told her, she would drop everything. She would move heaven and earth if that was what you needed.

You didn’t want that.

She needed to focus on her game, and that meant that you couldn’t be a distraction. You would not disappoint her. Not when you were so close to finishing.

“She needs to focus,” You mumbled, your voice straining. “She’s gotta impress Sarina to make the team. It’s important,”

“I think you forget that you are also important,” Natasha argued back softly, patting your back before carefully pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going to have Pepper cancel the meet and greet. You’re in no shape to meet fans. I should also have her call a doctor, but I already know you’ll fight me on it,”

You frowned. You never sold meet and greet tickets, choosing to instead have your team select fans at each show.

“But-“

She held up her hand before you could argue. “That isn’t up for debate. Get rest tonight, and we’ll assess tomorrow in the morning.”

Your jaw clenched, but you nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her.

“I know the world thinks you’re superhuman, but it’s ok not to be indestructible,” She said, softly. “You need to remember to be Clarke Kent sometimes too. There’s a reason Lois fell in love with him first,”

With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The silence of the empty hallway wasn’t as welcoming as it had been. It didn’t quiet your thoughts like it had.

Instead, it felt suffocating. Like the walls were closing in on you, trapping you in your misery.

You sighed another painful breath, before you grabbed your phone, reading the top notification, longing not to feel so…alone.

Hey babe, caught the end of your show on a random livestream. Are we still on for our FaceTime tonight?

You let your head fall back, thumping the wall.

Everything in you longed to say yes.

But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

It was still nice to fantasize about seeing her. About hearing her say ‘Hello my little one,’ with a soft smile that brought out her dimples. If you closed your eyes you could almost feel the pressure of her fingers on the back of your neck, running through the baby hairs that lived there. ‘I’m here, and I’ve got you,’

You let your mind linger there for a long second before you forced your eyes back open.

It took you three tries to type out your reply: sorry darling, I’m super tired. Rain check?

And you paused, your trembling finger over the send button, knowing you shouldn’t send it, but hitting the little blue arrow anyway.

It was awful but necessary.

You let out another long, ragged breath before you forced yourself to your feet and shoved your phone into your pocket, so you didn’t have to see her reply. You leaned heavily on the wall, no longer enjoying how it sucked the warmth from your skin, but using it to stay upright as the entire hallway tilted to the side.

You should go back to your dressing room before Steve sent out a search party. Dealing with Nat was one thing, dealing with the overprotective instincts of Steve, Clint, and Thor was another.

You didn’t have the mental capacity for that, and maybe your dressing room couldn’t make you feel like there was a rope on your lungs, dragging out your soul.

*****

You were not particular about a lot of things when you were on tour. You didn’t care about the size of your hotel room or the cars you were shuttled around in. You didn’t request overly expensive foods or special bubbly waters.

The only thing on your rider that you were very specific about was your dressing room.

It was your sanctuary away from the noise. A place you would spend more time in than your hotel room.

It was important to you that it was always the same. Lit with twinkling fairy lights, the comfy gray couch that followed you on every tour stop standing near the table with your kettle and vocal steamer, and a diffuser already filling the room with the soft scent of lavender and honey.

It filled your lungs the second you stepped through the door, wiping away the burning ache that accompanied every breath for just a second. Reminding you for one fleeting moment of the honeysuckle of Alessia’s favorite shampoo (the reason she picked the essential oil blend to begin with), before the knives returned to your chest.

You rubbed your knuckles over your sternum to quell the feeling, stumbling over to the couch and collapsing into it.

You pressed your nose into the soft gray material, wishing that you had grabbed the bright red sweatshirt you stole from your girlfriend when you last saw her. The smell of her perfume was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t gone yet, and there was a distinct longing in your stomach to be close to her. Even if you were the reason there was any space to begin with.

You could hear your kettle bubbling next to you, and you knew you should make yourself some tea to soothe the sharp edges in your windpipe, but the thought of moving felt like too much.

Instead, you sunk into the couch, your arm dangling off the cushion, your fingers brushing the ugly red carpet.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you didn’t have to look to know who was texting you. Still, the urge to see what she would say was too great for you to ignore it.

It took all of your strength to move your heavy arm to your pocket and pull out your phone. Your fingers fumbled over the screen as you squinted at the device with the eye not pressed into the couch.

The light made the throbbing in your head worse, and the words written on the screen made your lungs constrict.

Ok, my love. Are you sure everything is alright? This is the 3rd time this week.

You could almost hear the worry in her voice. See the suspicion in her blue eyes.

They never failed to see through you. To strip away your exterior and leave you vulnerable and raw beneath them. It never made you feel exposed, even in the beginning when the two of you decided to extend your dynamic beyond your bedroom. Instead, you felt seen and safe.

Sometimes she liked to have to work for your submission. She liked to peel away each layer of you one by one until you were a trembling mess beneath her. Open and vulnerable in a way no one else ever got to see you.

Other times, you gave your submission willingly, stripping off your public persona like a dirty shirt and allowing her to envelop you in her warm comfort.

How much you wanted that. How much you needed it.

It was a desperation that filled your entire being.

Before you could process what you were doing, you had already pressed her contact photo and brought the now-ringing phone to your ear.

You laid the device on the side of your head and let your arm go back to dangling. It was too heavy to hold.

It only rang twice before her voice filled your ears.

“Hey my love,” She said, worry and relief mingling strangely in her tone. “I’m so happy you called me. How are you?”

Her voice washed over you like a soothing wave, like a balm on the sharp edges of your nerves, though it did little to help the fire in your lungs and throat.

You pressed your nose into the couch, pretending that it was her shoulder for just a second. That the honey and lavender surrounding you was her perfume. That she was here.

“Y/n, are you there?” She asked, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

You couldn’t force any sound, beyond a low whistle past your inflamed throat. Your lungs crackled with each breath.

Your inability to make sound didn’t bother you as much as it should have.

“Y/n? Did you butt-dial me?” Alessia asked again, and you could almost feel her running her nails through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “I’m worried,”

The words were said with too much force, not at all the soft murmur your brain had been waiting to hear.

It shook you out of your haze just enough for you to reach up and grab your phone, clicking the decline button too fast.

You let the phone drop to the floor with a low thump as it immediately began to ring again.

Your fingers twitched above the screen, but you didn’t have the strength to reach for it, even as it lit up again with your girlfriend's contact photo.

Well, it was a photo of the two of you. You were curled up in her lap, in one of her blue UNC sweatshirts that were too big, and she was kissing the side of your head.

It had been taken after a particularly grueling day in the studio. It was Alessia’s turn to host team bonding night. You didn’t remember exactly who took the picture, Leah or Lotte, maybe, but it was one of your favorites.

What the camera didn’t catch was that your arms were not in the sleeves. Instead, they were tied with intricate knots behind your back, hidden by the sweatshirt.

It was something the two of you often did, and it was one of her go-to's when you were starting to spiral out of control.

A part of you longed for the feeling of the knots now, and her fingers twisting the soft rope against your skin.

Sure, the weight of your bracelet was nice, but it wasn’t enough.

You let out a wheezing breath that crackled and hurt.

If you asked, she would be here. She would wrap you up and pull you from your free fall.

It took you a long second to remember why you couldn’t have that.

Alessia had a job to do, and you wouldn’t stand in the way of that.

The phone buzzed again against the ugly carpet, the little voicemail icon flashing. You doubted you would be able to resist calling her back if you listened to it.

Still, you had to do something.

So you flicked the screen with one finger, going to your messages, and typing out words that felt fake, even to you.

Sorry, I’m ok. Just tired. I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Love you.

You clicked send before you could overthink it though, or your trembling fingers could betray you and type out the truth. You laid your head back down on the couch, curling into yourself as a painful cough forced its way past your lips.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, shivering before there was a soft knock at the door, and then the little click as it opened.

A part of your brain hoped that it would be Alessia. That she had read your mind and somehow teleported to whatever city you were in.

But the feeling of gentle fingers on the top of your shoulders told you that it wasn’t.

“Y/n?” Natasha asked, very close to your ear, and you blinked up at her.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes.

“Hm?” You hummed, the sound raw and painful.

“Let’s get you changed, and then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep,” She said, placing a hand under your armpit and guiding you to a sitting position.

The tiny movement had coughs ripping past your lips.

She held you steady with one hand and grabbed you a change of clothes with the other.

“Easy,” She breathed out, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your sweaty skin.

She left you shirtless for a long second as she disappeared into your bathroom, and the cool air of the dressing room felt nice on your overheated skin.

It didn’t bother you. Natasha had seen you in far less clothing than your sports bra and underwear.

She returned only a moment later with a towel, using it to dry you off before she slipped a light blue t-shirt with a foot on the back over your head.

The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually, she was able to get you out of your costume and into a pair of sweats that were far too big for you.

She slid a pair of Converse onto your feet, scooping up your phone and tucking it into her pocket.

“Let’s get you to the car,” She guided you to stand, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you.

“People?” You asked, leaning more of your weight onto her as she pulled you towards the door.

You missed her eye roll.

Of course, all you were worried about right now was who would see you, and what they would think.

“Not here,” Natasha reassured you gently, opening the door. “Only when we get back to the hotel,”

You made a low, painful sound as she half-carried you into the hallway.

You still had time before you had to pull yourself together.

******

The city lights blurred into a distorted kaleidoscope of colors during the short ride back to the hotel.

The cool glass felt nice against your temple, though it did little to ease the throb in your head or the lava in your throat.

The feeling of eyes watching you for any wavering in your resolve also wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t be sure if it was worry (that you would puke all over the car or pass out), or concern about what the fans would think when you pulled up to the hotel.

The whirring of the engine wasn’t loud enough to block out your racing thoughts, but any music was too much for you to handle.

You were drowning.

Every breath hurt, but you didn’t know if it was because of the physical pain or the anxiety gnawing at you.

You didn’t like to upset people. You didn’t like to disappoint them.

You were a people pleaser to a fault, and this wasn’t the first time you had self-destructed to meet everyone’s expectations.

But at the end of the day, the person you wanted to please most. The person you wanted to not disappoint the most was Alessia. Was your Daddy.

You knew you were failing, but you didn’t know how to stop.

The car came to a stop in front of the hotel far too quickly, and not for the first time, you were thankful that the dark tint kept you hidden from public view.

“Ready, kid?” Steve asked, turning around in the driver's seat to look at you.

You nodded once, reaching forward and grabbing the sunglasses facing the wrong way on his head, and pulled them over your own eyes.

You took a deep breath before Clint opened your door, painting your signature smile across your features.

You didn’t wave when you got out, too focused on keeping yourself upright, as Steve’sarm wrapped around you on one side and Natasha’s did the same on the other.

You felt safe tucked between them, though they did nothing to shield you from shrill screams and cheers that met you as soon as your feet touched the ground. They amplified the pounding behind your eyes, and the way the crowd pressed around you made it even harder to breathe (not that you thought that was possible).

You did try to flash the crowd smiles as Natasha and Steve guided you through, Clint protecting your back, and you were thankful your eyes were hidden, despite it being nighttime.

You never wanted the fans to see the… fakeness. The lie.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the hotel doors slid closed behind you, placing more of your weight on Steve as Natash called the elevator.

“You’re burning up kid,” Steve murmured, shifting to get a better grip around your waist.

You made a low sound, that turned into a full body caught that nearly had you doubling over. “Is that your way of calling me hot Stevie? What would Tony think?”

The words came out garbled, cracking with every syllable as you tried to talk through the coughs.

Steve’s arm tightened around you to keep you upright.

“I think he would say that you are sick,” Steve sighed at the mention of his husband, your publicist, taking more of your weight as another round of coughs wracked you.

You pushed off of him as soon as you could breathe again, even if it felt like sucking air through a straw filled with needles, and swayed your way toward the elevator.

It binged open as soon as you reached it, and you stumbled inside, gripping the metal bar on the back wall for support, and resting your forehead on the cool wall.

You could feel the heat of your skin leaching into the surface, but it did little to quell the pounding in your ears or the feeling like everything was tipping on its head.

Your fingers instinctively found the braided bracelet, running over the soft leather strands.

However, this time, it didn’t ease the bubbling anxiety and fire in your chest.

“We’re almost there, and then you can rest,” Natasha said softly, and you felt both her and Steve’s eyes on you as you leaned further into the wall.

The movement of the elevator was starting to make you nauseous, but you didn’t think you could voice that even if you wanted to. Not with how raw your throat was.

It took you a second to realize the elevator had stopped, and it wasn’t until Natasha gently touched your shoulder that you began to move again.

You let Steve guide you out of the elevator and into the hallway.

Natasha had the door to your suite open before you even got there, and Steve half-carried you to the bed, settling you on the fluffy white comforter.

Your fingers tangled in the expensive sheets as you fought to keep yourself upright.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Natasha asked you softly, kneeling in front of you and carefully undoing your sneakers.

You shook your head slowly, smothering another cough. “Sweatshirt,”

The croaky word hurt as it left your lips, barely audible and surrounded by more lung-crunching coughs.

But they understood, Steve, passing you a bright red sweatshirt from your bag.

You brought it to your face and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing in the perfume that clung to the material.

It burned as it filled your senses, but you could pretend that it soothed the edges of glass in your throat and lungs. You could pretend that it was her taking off your shoes and tucking you in.

You could pretend that it was all ok and that she wasn’t going to be livid when she found out. Not that you were sick, but that you hadn’t told her immediately.

You knew you would take whatever punishment she decided you deserved with no questions. She could be rather creative when she was annoyed with you.

“Let’s get you settled properly,” Natasha said, shifting you on the bed so your head was on the pillows, as Steve moved the covers and tucked them around you. “Rest now, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning,”

You groaned, sending more flames down your airway, rolling over and pressing your face more firmly into the sweatshirt.

You heard the distinctive sound of your phone being plugged in, and the click of the door.

And then you were alone.

More alone than you had been in a very long time.

Even if it was all your own doing, you hadn’t been this disconnected since the beginning of Alessia’s college career, and your first tour with Taylor. The infamous break in your relationship. Even though neither of you had actually experimented with anyone else, and you had texted and called nonstop, you had been hesitant to push too far, to ask for too much.

You blew out a long breath into her sweatshirt, ignoring the little needles that followed the air, eyes fixed on the phone on your bedside.

It buzzed again as if it knew you were thinking about it.

You reached your hand out, pulling it close so you could look at it, but it was still plugged in.

The movement had the screen lighting up with a string of messages. The one at the top made your heart hurt.

Please don’t ignore me, my Little One. I’m worried.

It said, and you could almost hear the inflection in her tone. You could almost see her eyes softening, and feel her fingers brushing your hair behind your ear.

You closed your eyes, pressing more deeply into the sweatshirt under your head.

Your fantasy world was far nicer than the reality you were in, and the universe wouldn’t end if you stayed in it until morning.

********

Your night was… hazy, filled with half-dreams that were increasingly difficult to distinguish from real life. As the morning light crept its way further and further across the ceiling, you leaned into the sweatshirt slowly losing its smell, one eye peeking out to track its progress.

It felt like a timer. A countdown clock on the imagined feelings of soothing hands on your back and whispered reassurance that everything would be okay.

Soon enough the door would open and you would have to be you again. You would have to pretend like each breath you took didn’t feel like a bear was mauling your lungs, and your brain wasn’t a freight train threatening to escape from your skull.

You would have to deal with the incessant buzzing of your phone that had kept you on the edge of real sleep all night.

You would have to face your girlfriend. Your daddy.

You were not looking forward to it. Any of it.

The only thing that you were semi-excited about was watching your girlfriend play, even through a screen. That had been your only saving grace back when she was in college before the two of you got back together, and you knew it would be your only saving grace now.

You sighed, rolling over, the sweatshirt falling from its bunched-up place against your cheek, and reaching for the phone still on the corner of the bed next to you.

It buzzed again as your fingers caught it, and brought it closer so you could see the screen. It was filled with notifications.

Some were from the group thread you shared with your manager, assistant, and publicist. Some were emails from people you were collaborating with.

But the majority were from Alessia.

You couldn’t help but click on the thread.

You knew it was a mistake immediately.

Good morning little one. I’ll have some time if you want to FaceTime before the game. I miss you, and I’m worried. You don’t usually ignore me.

It was like an arrow straight through your heart.

A direct hit to your will.

You swallowed hard, ignoring how badly it burned, and typed out a message.

I miss you too. Good luck today. You’re going to do amazing

You dropped your phone after you hit send, deciding that finding the starting 11 wasn’t important anymore, and stared up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, pulling the comforter more tightly around you despite the sweat breaking out across your chest.

You thought it would help the hollow feeling slowly taking over your insides, or the dull throb that accompanied each breath.

It did not.

You let your eyes slide back closed, deciding that the light hadn’t transversed far enough across the ceiling for you to need to be awake yet. Not when the pull of sleep was so strong, and the comfort of your half dreams was too difficult to resist.

“You know I don't like it when you hide from me,” Alessia’s voice said sternly, as though it was right next to your ear, and you felt fingertips graze your lips.

You didn’t open your eyes. Even amongst the haze that was filling every crack in your brain, you knew she wasn't here. She couldn’t be here. Not when she was back in London about to play some team you couldn’t remember.

“I know,” You rasped out.

The fingers gently pulled at your bottom lip before they circled back towards your cheek, and a thumb brushed across your closed eyelid.

“And you’re still doing it?” She asked, and you felt the air of each word on your ear.

You shook your head, turning it slightly, hoping to feel her nose bump hers. “You need to focus on the important things,”

You didn’t come into contact with her, though you knew you should have with the way you shifted.

“And you are not important to me?” She asked her voice hardening in the way it only did when you were about to receive a punishment.

An involuntary shiver ran down your spine, and your eyes opened automatically.

You sucked in a painful breath, blinking blearily at the face above you.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Natasha said quietly, even as your eyes darted around, searching for your girlfriend. “It’s 1, so you need to wake up so we can make a decision about tonight,”

“Less?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper when you saw that Natasha was the only other person in the room with you.

Natasha frowned, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “She’s in London, remember? The game against Luxembourg starts soon,”

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. You hadn’t remembered that they were playing Luxembourg.

“She’s starting?”

“No,” Natasha shook her head. “It’s mostly the young ones starting since the over-under is plus 20 for England,”

Your nose scrunched, and you forced yourself to sit up. “She has to play,”

None of this would be worth it if she never touched the field.

“I think Serina is using this as more of an identification camp,” Natasha countered, stepping in to help you sit up. “The girls need rest after doing both the Champions League and regular play these last couple of weeks,”

You grunted though it sounded more like a pained wheeze than a grunt.

Alessia’s schedule had been nearly as insane as your own for the past few months. It was part of the reason you were so… reluctant to bother her with something as trivial as a tickle in your throat.

“Maybe you should take a page out of her book,” Natasha added.

Your nostrils flared immediately at the implication.

Your job was so much less physical than Alessia’s. You didn’t do anything to deserve rest like she did.

The pressure you both face to perform was inherently different.

She didn’t let down millions of people every time she rode the bench. She wouldn’t crush the dreams of thousands of people if she didn’t take the pitch.

But still, you could already hear her argument ringing in your head.

I expect you to care for the things that belong to me as deeply and completely as I do. That includes yourself. Your needs matter, and I will not allow you to disregard them.

“No.” You rasped, none of the bite you meant appearing in the word.

“Yes,” Natasha countered, shifting the pillows behind you before you leaned back. “There is no way you can perform tonight,”

You huffed, and crossed your arms, glaring at the city beyond the large window to the right of the bed. “People paid-“

“To hear you sing. Not hack your way through a set,” Natasha cut you off. “They’ll be more disappointed if you give them a show that’s not your best. Reschedule the last 3, so they’re worth what they paid,”

Your glare only deepened, and your eyebrows pulled very tightly together as you processed what she was saying (taking a few extra minutes to cut through the thick fog in your brain).

You knew she was playing on your sensibility. You thought ticket prices were disgusting, and had fought to lower them as much as you could. You had made your show longer in retaliation, so the fans got what they paid for.

You wouldn’t give them a sub-par show.

You didn’t look at her but nodded once.

“I’ll have Tony write a statement. Do you want to approve it before it goes out?” She asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, your lips pursing.

“We’ll release it then, and I’ll call a doctor so we can get you some real medication,” The redhead continued, ignoring the deep frown pulling at your features.

It wasn’t that you were trying to be difficult. You just knew what would happen the second the people staked outside of your hotel caught sight of a doctor.

But now you felt like you didn’t have a choice, and not in the fun way.

“Fine,” You muttered, a hacking cough following it.

Natasha patted your back until the coughing stopped, and you relaxed back against the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have food sent up, you just watch the game and try to get more sleep before the doctor gets here,”

You huffed but didn’t protest as she tucked the blanket tighter around your torso.

“I know you’re unhappy with all of this, but it is what it is, and we need to look after your health too,” She sighed, turning and bustling around the room, flipping on the television to the game and grabbing a mug you hadn't noticed from the dresser by the door. “Drink that, and I’ll be back in a bit,”

You didn’t respond as she placed the mug on the table beside you, and disappeared through the hotel room door with a soft click.

You wanted to groan. To yell. To throw the mug across the room, but you knew it wouldn’t help.

The other part of you wanted your guitar, not that you were sure your fingers were strong enough right now to actually play.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back on the pillows.

It wasn’t long before you felt fingers in your hair, though you hadn’t heard the door open again.

You instantly knew who it was, though her perfume was suspiciously missing.

“You look like you got hit by a bus,” She murmured, her breath brushing across your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting her blue, except it was two shades darker than you remembered, the same shade as the old UNC jersey she was wearing.

“I’m fine,” You croaked, the sound pulling a hacking cough from your lungs that burned as it left you.

“Ah yes, because you sound just fine,” She huffed, her nails scratching lazily at your scalp. “You don’t need to hide from me,”

You blinked slowly, and her form shimmered slightly beside you. “‘M not. ‘M right here,”

“Rule one is honesty for a reason,” She countered, her hand pausing. “You’ve not abided by that.”

You swallowed around the glass in your throat at the confirmation of what you already knew, and your eyes closed again as the heavy weight of it settled on your mind.

You had broken the most sacred rule and you were in trouble. It wouldn’t just be a punishment you would have to take. It would be regaining her trust that would take the longest time.

It was a fragile thing, and you had shattered it.

You forced your eyes open again, determined to say something- anything- that would make it better, except when you did, she was gone.

You blinked heavily at the empty bed beside you. The space she had been seconds ago.

You wanted to shake your head, but with the freight train pounding in your skull, you knew that was a terrible idea.

“This is a very different starting eleven for England, but it’s what we expected. The only change of note is that Alessia Russo is unavailable for this game.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the television, flashing the starting lineup for the game.

Natasha said Alessia wasn’t starting, but you expected her to at least be on the bench.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back.

What was the point of suffering alone if Alessia wasn’t even going to play?

You weren’t sure anymore.

******

“I’ve got her,”

You stirred at the familiar voice, and the feeling of gentle fingers running through your hair and the bed shifting next to you. The scent of lavender and honey wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, pulling you closer to consciousness.

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together before your eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar blue of your girlfriend.

“Hey there,” She said softly, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing but a low hacking cough came out.

“Easy, little one,” Alessia shushed you softly. “Just relax. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you now, ok?”

It was painful how real she felt. Painful how much you wanted to believe she was here with you.

“Trouble,” You mumbled, coughing violently afterward, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her hand.

“I think we should make it your middle name since you seem to find it so often,” She murmured, running her hand again through your hair. “But no. You’re not in trouble. Not right now,”

You made a low, wheezing sound, shaking your head, despite the waves of nausea it sent to your stomach. “Real daddy disagrees,”

She frowned. “Real daddy?”

You swallowed hard, forcing words past your stolen vocal cords. “Not here. In Luxembourg. Won’t fool me again,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, her nails dragging against your scalp in the way she knew you loved. “Natasha called me last night, and I got on the flight as soon as I could,”

It took a few extra seconds for her words to filter through the unpleasant haze in your brain. Even then, they didn’t make sense.

Hell, her entire demeanor, including the softness in her features as she looked at you, didn’t make sense.

You explicitly told Natasha not to call her, and you couldn’t process her going against that request. Not when Alessia had a game to play.

“My brain is making you up,” You wheezed after another long second.

She breathed out a half chuckle. “While your brain is brilliant, I wasn’t conjured by it,”

You made a low, husky sound that could only be incredulity.

Her thumb again smoothed the space between your eyebrows. “What will it take for you to believe you’re awake?”

You blinked heavily at her, your shoulders lifting and falling.

She shook her head. “You’re too much,”

“No,” You mumbled, the crease between your eyebrows pushing against her finger. “‘M a good girl,”

“Yes. You are always my good girl, even when you’re being a stubborn pain in the ass,” She agreed fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to your too-warm forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be here where you wake up, and maybe you’ll actually believe you’re not dreaming,”

“Promise?” you asked. Sounding small, as exhaustion pulled at you.

She hummed. “I promise,”

Her fingers kept their soft rhythm in your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, and you shifted to press your nose into her shoulder, breathing in her perfume with each rattling intake from your lungs. It surrounded you, soothing the burning in your chest, and soothing the sharp edges in your throat.

For the first time since the lingering tickle started, you actually felt at peace. You felt calm enough to let yourself truly relax.

It would suck when you woke up and Alessia was gone, but doing anything other than allowing your mind to linger in this delusion felt unbearable.

Instead, you allowed yourself to sink into the overwhelming pull of exhaustion.

And you swore you heard an “always,” before sleep pulled you under.

Even if this alessia didn’t turn out to be real, you trusted her. And as angry as you wanted to be at Natasha and Steve for calling her, you knew she was exactly what you needed.

She always would be, even if she was just made up in your mind.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #safe harbor universe #woso imagine

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smittenmeraki · 2 days ago

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I have so many random ideas of Andreil being found out by the media in the strangest ways. My personal fav so far is them going pro and being on different teams. They end up playing against each other and everyone starts to think their rivals because Andrew keeps launching the ball at Neils helmet. After like 7 headshots from across the court Neil swears at him in german something along the lines of "I know you're doing that on purpose quit being a bitch for the sake of your entertainment or I swear I will empty your candy drawer" and of course Andrew's just there with his blank expression leaning on his racket, knowing Neil will forget all about it when they're home. However, all the fans see is Andrew targeting Neil over and over no matter where he is on the court so everyone thinks they hate each other until some weeks later an article is released with pictures of them grocery shopping together. Andrew is in the cart eating candy he hasn't even bought yet while Neil scans the aisle with a hand in Andrews hair. Another picture of them loading everything into the car, Andrew with a hand on Neils waist as he opens the backdoor. The article is titled something like "rivals or lovers : a deep dive into their history" and it brings up points like Andrew protecting Neil from Riko and Neil getting Andrew to shut down the goal with just a few words (ones no one knows), but also points of them shoving each other and getting in each others faces (tbh they were just flirting but from an outside prospective it was violence because they are never normal) all of the fan theories come to a head when Neil gets interviewed.

"What is your thoughts on the rumors about you and Minyard?"

"Rumors?"

"Yes, the ones about you two being teammates turned rivals turned lovers. Many fans are speculating what your relationship is and several articles have become very popular over it."

"We were never rivals??" Neil is absolutely lost at this idea, complete confusion.

"Really? Never once over the years?"

"No? And what articles? I don't understand how this has anything to do with Exy."

"Its about your career in the sense that Andrew Minyard has been a challenge for you." Neil smiles at the idea of Andrew being a challenge. "There was a really big article that shared some photos of you two together at a grocery store. It's rather unusal to see you two in a domestic setting, can you tell us about that? Many are wondering why you shop together." The first photo is pulled up on the big screen and Neil just stares for a moment, unsure of when it was taken.

"1. Its creepy that that was taken without us knowing. 2. I don't know what you want me to tell you, Andrew's not allowed out of the cart because he's a mence to shop with or maybe he refuses to let me go alone because I constantly forget things. Its just normal every day life, same as everyone else. 3. Because we live together?? I still don't see the relevance any this has to Exy. Many spouses go against each others teams, it's a part of being pro's."

"Spouses? So you are confirming you and Minyard are married?"

"Not on paper. Fundamentally yes. I thought this interview was supposed to be about how our season is going?" Neil sits back, baffled but also slightly smug from the look of shock on the interviewers face.

Meanwhile Andrew is at home with the cats eating a tub of ice cream while watching the interview thinking to himself 'yeah, fucking tell her. Noisy ass drama seeker.'

#aftg #all for the game #all for the gay #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

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vifilms · 11 hours ago

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i’m sick as fuck. ennalove, you’ve really outdone yourself with this one. the master of imagery, this solidified it. mel may have been the painter but you have illustrated this story so vividly with your strong affirmations of grace and love. the tone for this story beat the same with each word. all of it cohesive, every sentence tied to the next. truly, there’s never a time where i don’t enjoy your work.

seeing sevika painted in such a wonderful light, a soft light with comforting hues but you can still feel the rawness of everything and everyone she’s most. even if it is for the greater good and for the people of zaun, her home has changed — her life has changed. to show that struggle in the beginning, the push and pull of the tide, there’s the intertwine of canon into something even deeper. from an emotional standpoint, you seriously always knock sevika out of the park. i can hear her thoughts, i feel what she feels, her pain is as close to my heart as it is to hers. it’s intimate. i don’t think people understand how hard it is to execute that in writing. a numbing emotion can often feel thoughtless but there’s full intentionality in this and it’s felt in every word. the entire time i was reading this i just craved for more. the worlds you create in your work are stellar, sevika’s feelings don’t get lost in the shuffle and you can quite literally feel everything about them.

she’s wounded, hard but soft around the edges, she’s lost so much, and she’s ridiculed for things out of her control. the way your write sevika feels real and tangible. a woman who no longer has a home but has her heart beat for zaun and the cause she believes in even if she’s surrounded by people who don’t understand it. and they might never, and there’s heartbreaking tangibility in that feeling. it’s something all of us feel consistently. in some aspect, we can’t control circumstances out of our grip, all we can do is take our best foot forward.

…..but melvika.

the imagery and analogies between the stars and what they mean to each other? fucking amazing. how sevika says the stars is the only think she likes but then saying mel is the first person who is kind to her, the first person who appreciates her and the knowledge she has to offer. mel is sevika’s star and vice versa. maybe it’s just me but i’m just a sucker for people from completely different lives and coming together and all of it just works. it shouldn’t, it couldn’t, but somehow it does.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

oh yes. this shit is so fucking good. the foreshadowing. always being present with one you love, and also — i always see them because i’m always with them — there’s so much weight in this line. there’s a thousand different ways it can be interpreted. personally it’s someone like sevika, being reserved, shy, or even cautious, not wanting to be seen or perceived because it’s never ended out well for yourself but when someone does for the first time, it’s the most beautiful thing to experience. what’s that saying? to be seen is to be loved. that’s what this little section screams to me. when someone loves you for the first time, not for a version of yourself you think you are or someone wants you to be, but they love you for you. it’s humbling, it aches, it’s more than overwhelming, but there’s nothing else like it in the world.

there’s true submission in love, and that’s where trust and partnership can blossom and grow, and that’s exactly how this fic made me feel. like there’s a blossom of hope on the other side of the tunnel. the people we love waiting on the other side for us. ready to restore a faith in humanity that we’ve lost.

always exquisite, enna. thank you for always challenging the way i write, making me see the craft in a different lense. it’s so hauntingly beautiful. as if a surgeon can suture a cracked heart back together just because they will it so. ennabear, your talent is always a pleasure to witness. i love your work so much. never stop, ever.

♡

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home�� although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

#i may have analyzed more than anything BUT I LOVE THIS !!!!!#melvika is the only correct ship #they are perfection #this is a certified banger but everything you write is #!!!!!!#your fics always change my perspective #they are soft and vivid and light and full of love and your emotion is felt through your craft #it’s truly beautiful.#❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐲’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬 ❞

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slaaverin · 18 hours ago

Text

I'm in my bed crying over jikook again.

The thing is, I don't even have the proper words to express what I'm feeling.

It's all so..God I don't know. Improbable? Crazy? It's crazy.

You have two humans that have the most pure souls, with impossible high-stakes lives, that somehow found each other and also found the most beautiful love I have ever witnessed in my 32 years of life.

The probability of this happening is almost zero. It shows there are really bigger and smarter things than little us at play in life.

They went through so much, and so much more than any of us will ever be able to imagine, yet they remained pure at heart, with their love growing ever stronger and more potent by the day.

They let us in on everything, and showed us the true depth of their feelings openly (but even so, it's written all over their faces).

They simply care, a lot. The little things, the trips, the quiet moments, all of it, they really do care. It's not for show. It's real.

It's like we're getting a glimpse of something that doesn't belong to us at all. Yet, they are generous enough to let us experience it vicariously through them. Isn't it an act of love on their part? They don't have to do it. It's not even smart or safe or reasonable for them to do it. But they do anyway. Maybe because they wouldn't be able to help it, even if they wanted to?

How weird it is that our love for them is that strong? We've never even met them. Yet we feel for them something more unconditional than what we feel for some people we've actually met. How strange, don't you think? So we cheer on and support and we feel it all. We care too.

And I can't explain how witnessing jikook's love has been wonderful, how it has filled my heart with an immense amount of joy and reverence and beauty. It is a mystery.

Somehow I feel it's not even about them, even if it is, obviously so. It's simply that love. Isn't something most of us miss? Long, crave for? Wish for everybody.

If all the people would be in love like Jimin & Jungkook are, there would be no wars in the world anymore. It would be completely different.

The lack of love produces incredible darkness, and it's only love that can fix everything.

So I think that's why I cherish their love so much. It is so very precious, so very important, in ways they might not even understand. The fact they have such an audience being exposed to their love, feeling all the feelings, it helps the world heal a tiny little.

It's not a small thing. It matters.

If we can all fill our little corner of the universe with that type of love, we would've won all the battles, done what we came here for, and call it a day.

They've gifted us the incredible gift of are you sure, where their love was quiet and peaceful and certain. They've given us the gcf. And Letter. And then there was Rosebowl, and MMA, and Black Swan. A thousand moments. Again and again they've showed us.

Now they are enlisted together, and I think that there's nothing more to add. Nothing to prove. Nothing to show. It is self-evident and we can only smile and be happy for them.

What an incredible journey it has been, full of laughs, of crying. So many tears (of joy).

When they will come out of military, we can say that a chapter of their life will close, and another one will open. Hopefully a even happier one than the one before.

So yeah I've decided to make a rather big edit about it, this first chapter, those 10 years of love.

(And you're not ready with some of the music I chose, it makes you feel ALL THE THINGS, prepare tissues)

Sorry for this post that is going nowhere.

Sometimes I simply need to scream my love for jikook. They truly deserve it.

Aren't they wonderful? Yes. Yes.

Take care lovely jikookers 💜

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook

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glossypolaroidkisses · 1 day ago

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Hi lovely!! I just read your recent response to an anon question and saw you mention being an eldest daughter and omg as a fellow eldest daughter how do you think lu would be like with a hyper independent girlfriend who basically had to learn things in life on her own and isn’t used to having people genuinely want to help her without feeling like she owes back ?

I can’t wait to read your works xx

Hello!! Thank you for being here:)) I really appreciate all the support, mwah! I see you, you're valid! It's rough out here!! As the oldest sister with a younger brother, the sexism on top of all the responsibilities was exhausting. My experience as a parentified child may shape my perspective, but I hope this still resonates with you as a fellow eldest daughter <3

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Luigi to me, very much seems like a giver. Generous partner! Always wants to help you with things, acts of service! He is obviously anti-materialism, but loves gifting you items that involve your hobbies and interests; Books of your favourite genres/tropes, if you like painting, he’ll buy you the finest paint-brushes and acrylics. Wanna stargaze?; He’ll research to buy the highest quality telescope for you.

He loves showering you with compliments, and he’s a natural helper. It’s second nature to him! It’s how he shows the people he loves that he cares, by helping.

He’s not flashy or materialistic, but he buys things that he knows will provide meaningful experiences for you.

You grew up having to manage everything yourself from a young age. When someone gave something to you or did something for you, you were always left having this expectation of the favour somehow having to be returned. You’ve always had to be ‘the fixer’. Because of how kind and capable you are, you have ended up in toxic friendships and relationships where people took advantage of your kindness and willingness to be helpful.

You struggle to let your guard down, believe that others are genuine, and accept compliments or help of any sorts. When being offered assistance, your instinct is to hesitate and refuse.

Before your relationship was serious and you started living together, Luigi only saw your hyper-independence on a surface level; just like everyone else. On the outside, you just radiate bad bitch energy. You’re always busy, working and completing tasks. Luigi loves strong women who know that they don’t need a man for their lives to be fulfilled. You’re intelligent, capable, always handling things on your own with confidence. To be frank, he finds it sexy!

It wasn’t until you started going over to his place more frequently, that Lu picked up that your independence might come from a place of obligation rather than choice, a survival instinct born from a past where asking for help often came with conditions, expectations, or disappointment.

----------->

Here is one of many oneshots showing how this dynamic could play out! Yes.. this is going to be a series! Once I post the other oneshots, I'll link them at the bottom of this post, or in the comments. Enjoy!

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General Themes: Trust, vulnerability, emotional healing, reassurance, understanding, sensitivity, love and care

Gender: Mostly gender-neutral, use of "girl" once

Smut?: No

Warnings: Emotional distress, crying, anxiety, possible triggers for past trauma (misunderstandings, interpretation of actions, self-worth issues)

Word Count: 1439

You’re cooking in Luigi’s apartment, standing at the stove. You hum a tune, swaying lightly as you stir in the pot. “Mmmm,” You hear your boyfriend from a couple of feet behind you. After a few steps, you feel his large hands gently grasp your sides, then his arms wrap around your waist. “Smells amazing, baby.” he murmurs by your ear, placing a couple of gentle kisses on your neck.

You stop humming, your body stiffening. Luigi immediately notices, lifting his chin from your shoulder, “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, I, I just..” You pause. “I’m not in the mood right now, Gi.” you admit. Luigi steps back from you, confused. He leans against the counter next to the stove so he can properly see your face. “I wasn’t trying to have sex or anything, y/n.” he calmly says, genuinely explaining his intentions.

You hold eye contact with his concerned gaze before looking down at the pot, though there’s no real need to monitor it. You’re just stirring soup. “Oh.” you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Why did you come up behind me then?” you ask, voice a little shaky. Luigi tilts his head, his thick eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He looks away for a second, then shifts his gaze back to your embarrassed expression. “I just wanted to appreciate you, my love.” he says, his tone soft and sincere.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the emotions before your eyes can visibly tear up. “I’m sorry, I just thought you did that because you wanted it to.. lead.. to something..” you explain. You look up at Luigi again, searching his face for any hint of frustration or confusion.

“No, no, no, I didn’t.. I don’t know why you..” His voice trails off, confused, He takes a moment to think, “Did I do something? I--” Luigi starts, trying to navigate this situation carefully since he can tell you’re in a fragile state. You quickly cut him off, desperate to reassure him, “No, you're fine. You’re perfect. It’s just my brain, I read the situation wrong.” You say in a rush, verbally trying to escape the situation. You force a short chuckle in an attempt to rid the awkward tension.

Luigi takes a deep breath. He steps forward from the counter, towards you. He lifts his hand, delicately pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks softly, staring at your face despite your gaze being focused on the soup again. You nod, unable to look at him. He cups the side of your face with his hand, slowly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You can talk to me about anything, love. I promise I would never do something to you expecting it to lead somewhere, or get something out of you, okay?” he reassures, sincerity written in his tone. You nod. “I’m glad that you felt comfortable telling me you weren't in the mood, though. You must’ve felt so guilty. I would never want to make you uncomfortable.” he says, his voice full of compassion. You nod again, biting the inside of your cheek.

You feel your eyes finally surrender, glazing over with fresh tears. Fuck. You already see Luigi’s expression shift in your peripheral vision. “y/n, baby, what’s wrong?” his voice laced with panic, but trying to maintain a neutral tone.

Avoiding eye contact, trying to regain some control over yourself, you set the spoon down on the stove. You turn off the burner. Thinking his honest words from his heart would help, Luigi is confused at what appears to be you emotionally shutting down. He’s analytical, used to approaching things logically with fact, and solving them with ease. It hurts his heart, not knowing how to immediately and effectively help you.

You step away, your head in your hands. Crying in front of others has always been something you tried to avoid—an old habit from years of being mocked for your sensitivity. Your palms press into your eyelids, as if you believe that pushing hard enough will force the tears back into their ducts. It’s no use. You try your best to take deep breaths, but they’re stifling. Your chest feels tight.

You’ve never been loved like this. You’re damaged. Your past has made it difficult to trust these moments. You accidentally accused him of trying to throw himself onto you, and yet here he is, treating you.. like this? Apologizing to you? Being so graceful, so patient.. with you? It makes your heart ache.

Luigi watches you from a distance, helpless. He doesn’t know exactly how to help, but his heart aches for you, wanting nothing more than to ease your pain. He walks toward you again, determined to offer comfort, even though he isn’t sure how.

Luigi watches you from a few feet away, distressed and helpless. His gaze shifts around the room frantically, up and down your body trying to read its language. His mouth gaped slightly. He needs to act quickly. He wants nothing more than to ease your pain, but he's unsure of how. He walks towards you again, determined to offer comfort one way or another.

“You’re..” you begin an attempt at explaining, stopping Luigi in his tracks. “You’re so kind.” you say, a full fledged sob following your words as you break down completely.

Luigi’s tense shoulders drop, his heart shattering at your words. He could never have imagined that his care and patience would feel so foreign to you, that it would bring you to the point of tears.

You feel his strong arms envelop you, drawing you close against his chest. His lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead. You move your hands to his back, returning the embrace and burying your face in the warmth of his chest. Luigi’s chin rests softly atop your head as you dissolve into his comforting presence, your sobs quieting in his hold.

“You deserve…” he pauses, a lump catching in his throat. He’s never seen you this broken before. “... all the kindness in the world. It's my duty to love you.” he whispers, his voice reveled in emotion.

You catch up to your inhales, taking deeper, more controlled breaths. Tears continue to stream down your face, but not overwhelmingly, with Luigi's hoodie gently absorbing them. With the newfound sense of developing control over your body, you muster the courage to lift your face from Luigi’s chest.

Your puffy, red-rimmed eyes reach his glossy gaze. You didn’t expect to cry in front of him, ever. Normally when you cry, you run to your room, find some way to hide. You never imagined Luigi would see you like this, so raw and vulnerable. His lashes are damp and clumped together. In his eyes, you see that your pain has affected him as if it were his own, yet there’s a sense of relief as he finally meets your beautiful gaze once more.

He sighs deeply, a weight lifted. His hands reach up to cup your face, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks, as if they are your personal windshield wipers.

“My beautiful girl.” he whispers, a small grin tugging at his lips. You smile back, your heart glowing. You place your hands on top of his, feeling their warmth. Closing your eyes once more, you lean into his touch, feeling a sense of security you've never known before.

You look up at Luigi, “Thank you.” you whisper from the depths of your fragile heart, the weight of gratitude in your voice. “I know.. I have so much I need to tell you. I promise I will, eventually.” you say. He nods, that sweet grin having yet to leave his lips since you met his gaze. “Take your time, amore mio. I’ll be here.” he says.

You chuckle lightly, wiping any remaining tears with the back of your hand. “I never thought anyone would see me like this.” you admit.

“I’m honoured you let me. You never have to hide any parts from me, not ever.” Luigi says softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Reaching up, you caress the side of his face, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. You pull him down to your level, smiling as his lips get closer to yours. Closing your eyes, your lips meet his in a tender, passionate kiss.

Luigi carried you to his room, where the rest of the night unfolded in a quiet, healing embrace. Cuddling, sharing gentle kisses, opening up more about your childhoods to each other more than you ever have. You shared a comforting bowl of soup before going to bed, sleeping soundly in each other’s warm, safe embrace.

a/n: hope you enjoyed!! please feel free to leave all sorts of feedback; the good, the bad, the ugly.. LOL i appreciate anyone who took the time to read all this! thank u sm to anon for the request! xoxox!

#fanfic #fanfic luigi #ff luigi #luigi fanfic #luigi ff #luigi imagine #luigi mangione #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi oneshot #luigiff #luigi angst #angst with a happy ending #light angst #angst #fluff #one shot

45 notes · View notes

zepskies · 2 days ago

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Aww yay!! I'm so happy to hear that. 🥹💗

so far what I love the most about this series-verse is how, authentic and genuine dean and mila’s relationship is <3 I think maybe I mentioned it when reviewing THC but truly their love feels so sincere 🤍🤍

Omg thank you!! What an amazing compliment, and now I'm blushing. 🥰🥰 With everything these two went through in THC, I wanted their connection to feel real and natural now as they continue learning each other.

I feel like in today’s day & age relationships can be so complicated because there are too many trivial outside factors, but for them in this universe, it’s really just as simple as two people who care a lot for each other making it work. and i absolutely love that 😭💗

Oh God yes, totally agree. 🙃 And there are complications around Mila and Dean, but when it's just the two of them, Dean gets her to remember that them choosing to be together can be as simple or complicated as they allow it to be. It's a choice, day by day, working together. 💕💕

they’re so sweet to each other :’)🫶🏽 even when he puts his foot in his mouth; as soon as he made that comment when learning about the chief I shook my head lol, oh dean 😂

Ahaha he's trying his best. Oh Dean. 😝

But he's so damn charming and adorable, she can't help but let him back into her good graces.

mystery dude better back up!🤺 I do not trust that man at all so far, he gave me such a bad vibe :/ for his sake he better not try anything because not only will dean protect his wife, mila is clearly not to be messed with 🤣 which brings me back to how much I admire her strength! I love that she will speak up for what matters.

He's being sneaky about it, isn't he? 😒 But YES, if Mila doesn't mess him up first, Dean definitely will. 💞 Mila's not one to take things sitting down either.

the thought of dean getting picked on makes me so sad because it’s like, classic bullying :((( I wanna hug him so bad. especially since it’s already been so hard leaving everything and everyone he had behind — the weight of hazing & hard judgement on top of adjusting to everything new must be draining :( honestly I admire his strength too i’m glad she’s providing him with the support he deserves 🫶🏽 because yeah even though he can handle it, he shouldn’t have to ✋🏽😔

Ikr? 😭😭 Dean doesn't deserve this at all, considering how hard he's working to be respectful to their customs, but it's kind of par for the course (he's honestly lucky they let him live). It will get better for him (eventually), but you're right, it is draining for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to Mila. She's doing her best to be his support system. 💞

also, I did not expect baby x mato but you know what, i’m here for it 😭🙂‍↕️

omgg I was hoping someone would like that part. 😂😂 I honestly didn't plan it when I was writing THC, but it came out when I started developing Outlander. I thought it was a cute lil' tidbit, and it's actually going to play more into the plot later. 😉💗

I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming for this little series!!

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won?

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi.

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile.

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes.

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman.

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject.

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more.

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse.

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.”

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.”

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence.

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence.

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening.

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment.

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.

“You okay?” he asks.

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm.

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart.

“You will never be alone,” she promises.

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight.

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him.

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him.

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms.

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him.

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt.

“I choose him over you,” she says.

Then, she slips back inside.

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds.

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now.

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.”

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones.

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.”

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say.

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though.

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once.

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks.

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother.

“I will think on it,” he says.

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life.

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut.

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers.

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring.

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name.

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip.

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(Going back to the regular Dean tag list, plus those who said they'd like to be tagged on this series!)

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akookminsupporter · 2 days ago

Note

Why do you think jikook chose to serve together?

Also, why not jimin and tae if they're soulmates? Why not jungkook and tae? Why do you think they did it?

I feel like I’ve answered this question more times than I can count over the past year but I post way too much, so finding my first answer feels impossible. That said, I’m happy to answer it again, haha.

Anon, the most honest responses I can give you are:

Because they wanted to. Because they didn’t want to. And because they didn’t want to either.

Let me start by saying that, as fans, anything we discuss about the members’ decisions is pure speculation. We’re piecing things together based on the limited information we have, and at the end of the day, that’s all it is—our interpretation of the choices they’ve shared with us.

That said, I believe Jimin and Jungkook made the decision to enlist together because they’re the closest members of the group. Their bond is unique, and that’s been obvious to anyone paying attention over the past 10 years. I imagine they considered the pros and cons of enlisting together and concluded that it was the best decision—not just practically, but emotionally. Most importantly, it seems like it’s what they both truly wanted.

Over the past year, I’ve seen fans speculate about their reasons, saying things like, “They did it because X needed the emotional support of Y” or “Y needed the physical support of X.” And while those are valid perspectives, I’ve always leaned towards a simpler explanation: they just needed each other.

over the past 10 years, I think we all have noticed that their bond is unique. It’s clear they provide mutual comfort and understanding in ways that don’t seem to happen with the other members. There’s a certain synchronicity between them—a level of shared traits, habits, and even ways of thinking that make them perfectly attuned to one another. They’re simply each other’s person. So, if they had the chance to face one of the most challenging periods of their lives together, why wouldn’t they take it?

We don’t know if Jimin wanted to enlist with Tae or if Jungkook wanted to enlist with Tae but Tae wasn’t on board. Based on the brief exchange they had about it on AYS, it doesn’t seem like that was ever the case. From the beginning, it always seemed like the plan was for Jimin and Jungkook to enlist together, and that decision alone says a lot about the kind of relationship they share.

Their decision to enlist together doesn’t confirm or deny anything about the romantic nature of their relationship—that’s not something we can speak to with certainty. What it does prove, however, is that Jimin is the Cristina to Jungkook’s Meredith, and vice versa. If you’ve been paying attention, that’s been obvious for a long time. They’re soulmates in every way that matters—whether that’s platonic or something more we don’t know for certain.

The fact that some people still deny the strength of their bond or downplay it is another story entirely. But for me, it's crystal clear after everything we’ve seen.

And since someone asked about this recently—yes, Tae said Jimin is his soulmate, and I absolutely believe they are. But that doesn’t mean Jungkook isn’t Jimin’s soulmate too, just in a different way. That much is obvious.

Sometimes, I get frustrated when I see debates about this, haha. It’s so clear that Jimin and Tae care about each other deeply, but their relationship is completely different from the one Jimin shares with Jungkook. And from the one Tae has with Jungkook. Each dynamic is unique, and each connection is valuable. Why is that concept so hard for some people to grasp?

Lastly, since they enlisted, we haven’t heard much about them. But in the little we have seen, read, and heard, it’s clear it was the best decision for them. Jungkook pretty much confirmed it during his last surprise Wlive.

It’s obvious they’re not just a source of calm and stability for each other but also a sense of normality amid everything. I mean, how many times did we hear one of them mention, before all this, that they’d spend hours talking about music, singing, or practising together? How many times did we hear them say that after a long day of work or commitments, they’d still end up together?

No one goes through the whole process they had to go through to apply for the buddy system just for a simple colleague or someone you don’t feel completely secure and comfortable being around.

#ask #anon #JMPJKJ #TH #bts military servicio #rosie's opinion #preg 4

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vanfleeter · 2 days ago

Text

Old Flame

Summary: After a failed marriage comes to its end, Jake finds himself on the doorstep of an old flame. One he learns he never should have let go out. Characters: Jake Kiszka x Anna Word Count: 8.1k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Adult Themes. Adult Sexual Themes. Angst. Divorce. Affair. Yelling. Arguing. Throwing things. Tears. Self doubt. Ultimatums. Toxicity. Broken and strained relationships. Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Fluff. Soft Jake. (as always let me know what I missed so I can add it to the list)

Jake swiped his pen over the documents, signing each one with a ballpoint pen. He scoffed to himself as he dropped the pen to the granite countertop and slid the papers across the smooth service away from him. They had only been married for a year before she made the first move towards a divorce. Why? She just didn't want to be tied down. Whatever the fuck that meant. Due to their prior agreements, she got half off his money in the end.

Sliding off the barstool, he walks over to the drink cart in the living room and pours himself a drink.

“Just because this happened, doesn't mean we can’t be–” She tried to speak before he cut her off.

“We can’t be anything.” He says, lifting the glass to his lips to take a drink.

“I still love you..”

Jake rolls his eyes and lowers the glass, staring at it as he runs his index ring over the top of it. “I’m starting to think you don’t know what love is.” He says, trying to remain calm, but the anger courses through his body and suddenly he’s throwing the glass in her direction. Much to his surprise, she dodges it and the glass collides with the wall, breaking into many small pieces. “I gave you everything!” He shouts. “Not once have you ever given me anything in return!”

“I agreed to marry you!”

“Oh fuck off!” He spats. “You make it sound as if I had forced your hand. You had a choice, May! You could have said no and we wouldn't be here.”

“But I loved you when I said yes, I thought I saw a future with you.”

Jake scoffs once more, rolling his eyes again. “What changed then? Did I not pleasure you well enough?”

“That is not the reason.”

“No?” He nods his head in a sarcastic manner. “So then tell me who that man was you would sneak in here while I was away..” May’s face drains of color and he dryly laughs. “You thought I wouldn't know you had been having an affair? The reason you didn't want to be “tied down”? You love me… Ha!” He shakes his head and starts to walk in her direction. He stops just a few inches from her and leans down to speak in her ear. “I hope he’s worth it because as soon I walk out that door, you get nothing more from me. No more of my money and certainly no more of my body. Do not come crawling back to me when his dick doesn't satisfy you anymore.”

Walking away from her, he grabs his belongings he packed up prior to the signing and leaves the house without one single look back. Though he hid his true feelings behind a wall of crood words and hatred, his heart was breaking from within. The woman he had loved for several years–the one he proclaimed his love for in front of a church full of their cherished loved ones–had the guts to stab him in the back by betraying the vows they had promised one another. Sleeping with another man and she was the shocked one? She should have known that he would have found out sooner or later.

He was grateful for the divorce in a way. He no longer had to hide in the shadows, watching as this man fucked his wife in their bed, a bed they had made love to each other for years. A bed that was stained with their love–or whatever they had then. Now it didn't feel as if it were love. Now it just felt as if he was used. His money, his body. He gave her everything and yet she betrayed him and gave her body to someone else.

For weeks all he could hear in his head were her moans penetrating the walls that first night he caught them together. They must not have heard him arrive back home because he could hear them from the front door. He had to fight back the urge to storm into that bedroom and fight the man who had the nerve to sleep with a married woman–his wife. But then the puzzle pieces fell into place–one by one–as he pieced together the truth. A truth she had been hiding from him. The decency she thought she had to lie to his face, claiming to have missed him while he was away.

He thought it would end if he could prove to her that he was the better man–her husband. So every night since he came home from a six month long tour, he would fuck her however she wanted him to and wherever. Anything to prove that he was still worthy of her and to prove that she didn't need to find pleasure from someone else’s body.

Until he came to the realization that no matter how often he fucked her or how he did it, he would never replace the man that she really desired. The diamond ring on her finger didn't stop her from tainting their marriage.

Instead of the love he had once felt for her is now the hatred that had been burning in the pit of his stomach for months.

As he drove, his mind wandered to someone else. Someone that he hasn't seen in years since she went away for a job opportunity in Seattle. Though she was back in Nashville, he still hadn't seen her, having been so focused on the band and trying to save his marriage. But he still remembered the way to her home, the same home she kept even after she moved, knowing she would one day come back.

If he were to show up to her house, would she want to see him? Would she let him in? The way things ended between them wasn't as drastic as his failed marriage has ended now, but they also didn't end on good terms either.

The one fight.

Words spewed at each other that neither of them meant but still cut them both so deeply.

He had begged her to stay, that he could provide for both of them and she wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. But it wasn't worry that she felt. It was desire. She craved freedom in the moment, not wanting to be tied down just yet.

Sensing a theme yet?

Of course she loved him, she had never loved someone quite like she loved Jake. She had dreams and plans of marrying him someday but it just wasn't the right time. Though she had dreams of marrying him, she also had dreams of building this career for herself and having something that was hers. At the time, he didn't quite understand that. He didn't understand that she was an independent woman, not wanting to rely on someone else to take care of her.

They broke up the night before she was to leave for Seattle and they hadn't spoken since. He didn't see her off at the airport, he never called or sent texts, nor did she either. They both aimed to forget about each other, thinking it would numb the pain. In time it did, he fell in love with someone new and so did she–for a little while. It didn't last because she knew her heart still belonged to Jake.

Pressing his finger into the doorbell, the sound of it echoes inside and he takes a step back. He left his things in his car, unsure of how this might play out for him. A few minutes ticked by and he was going to reach for the doorbell again when the door opened. In front of him and still looking as beautiful as he last saw her, stood his first ever true love. Though they were mid-thirties, not quite at the stage where they should be growing gray hair, he could see a few strands lining her forehead. Her eyes still held the same sparkle he used to see before, only now they were shielded by a thin pane of glass.

Anna.

“Jake?” Her voice shakes slightly as she stares at him in surprise. Her face had slowly grown pale as if she had seen a ghost.

He nods his head, unable to form words to speak. Seeing her after all the years, his breath was somehow still taken from his body. He felt the urge to pull her into his arms, to hold her once more, but he fought against it, knowing it wouldn't be wise to do such a thing.

“What are you doing here?” She asks.

“I got divorced..” He finally manages to say.

Instantly, she’s pulling him inside the house and shutting the door. Lifting her glasses, she rests them on the top of her head. “Divorce? Has it even been that long?”

He shakes his head. “I saw it coming, despite how hard I tried to keep it at bay.”

She leads him further into the home and into the kitchen. Passing through the hall, he notices the pictures on the walls have remained the same. He stopped walking when he saw a framed photo of the two of them. He remembers exactly where they were when that photo was captured.

“Jake, I don’t know about this..” She says as he helps her up to the top of the tower. “You know I don’t do well with heights.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Jake says as he slowly walks her over to the ledge. “Just don’t look down.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Look at the view,” He says. “Imagine living in a castle as grand as this used to be with this perfect view of the ocean.”

“I think I’d rather stay closer to the ground.”

Jake chuckles, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheek. “Let’s stay just like this forever..”

“Want anything to drink?” Looking away from the picture, he turns towards the kitchen. She’s standing by the fridge, holding the door open. “I have milk, orange juice, and tequila in the freezer.”

“I probably shouldn't drink..” He says as he walks into the kitchen.

“What did you do?” She asks, already knowing something had occurred before he left his house.

“I may have thrown a glass…at May..” He mumbles as he slides onto a bar stool, keeping his eyes anywhere but hers.

“Jacob…” She sighs.

“I know, I know.. I let my anger get out of control..” He says, before burying his head in his hands. “How did my life get so bad? I thought we were happy.. I gave her everything I had… She took most of my money too in the agreement…”

“Do you need help?” She asks.

Jake nods his head. “No… I still have plenty.. The bands are still making money plus all of the side projects I have going on. I’m steady for now and I’ll be getting more once the house sells.”

“You’re selling the house?”

Jake nods his head and takes the glass of water that she slid across the countertop to him. “Also a part of the agreement.”

“Oh…”

“I don’t want to sell it, but I have no choice..” He says. “That place holds a lot of memories..” He glances up at her and she looks away. “But that’s all it is.. A house full of memories.. There’s nothing for me to hold onto anymore.”

“I always wondered what you did with it when I left..” She says. “Is that hole still in the wall in your office where your guitar fell?”

Jake scoffs, nodding his head. “I still haven't gotten it fixed.”

“The wall or the guitar?”

“The wall..of course,” He smiles. “Probably should get it fixed before the house goes on the market.”

“Isn’t she still going to be there?”

“I hear the tone of disdain,” Jake smirks. “And you don't even know why we’re divorcing.”

“Judging by the state you’re in, she’s the reason for it.” Anna says as she leans against the countertop. “What’d she do? Spill the tea.”

Jake chuckles and takes a drink of water. “May was having an affair.. Was going on for months while I was away. Caught them when I came home. I didn’t know what to do so I left.”

“But you really wanted to do something else, didn’t you?”

Jake nods his head. He takes another drink before continuing. “I wanted to storm up there and beat the shit out of him. She was married–she was my wife. He had to have known all of that. The pictures on the walls and our dresser should have been a clear indication but I just knew he ignored it all.”

“But instead you left..”

“Yeah.. Ended up crashing on Danny’s couch until I was sure they weren’t fucking anymore..”

“Did Danny ever question you?”

Jake shakes his head, folding his hands together in front of him. “I know he had his suspicions but he never pushed to ask me about it.”

“Then what happened?”

“I went home the next morning–pretended that my flight had been delayed and my phone was dead so I couldn't call to let her know.. She lied so well, I truly think she started to believe herself–but I knew the truth, I knew everything.”

“And Josh doesn't know about this?”

“No… I haven't said a thing about this to him. I kept pretending to everyone that our marriage was good–that we were good. I didn’t want to be a disappointment to the family..”

“You’re not a disappointment,” Anna says, shaking her head. “You tried to make your marriage work, but there's only so much you could do.”

“He’ll only say ‘I told you so’.. He never liked May from the start and he made damn sure that I knew that. He didn't even come to the wedding.” He could see Anna’s jaw drop ever so slightly, shocked that Josh would pull something like that. “Yeah… He was supposed to be my best man but never showed up so Sam stepped in at the last minute. We haven't spoken since…”

“Wait..” Anna says, waving her hands in the air in front of her. “You haven't spoken since the wedding? That was what…”

“Over a year ago..” Jake mutters.

“Wow.. I’ve never known you two to go more than maybe a week without talking to each other and that’s even when you’re just busy..”

Jake shrugs his shoulders and takes another drink of his water. “The band’s on a hiatus to give everyone a break for a little while.. Haven't really had the need to talk to each other..”

“Jake, I’m sorry…”

“I’m not..” He grumbles. “He made his choice.. I’m over it.”

“You don't seem like it,” Anna said as she walked around the island and sat on a stool beside him. “Is that why you came here–because you can’t go to him?”

“I wouldn't have gone to him regardless..” Jake says. “I came here because…” His voice trails off. He honestly didn't know why he came here. She just came to his mind. “I don't know..” He looked at her and for once he felt comfortable with himself. He didn't feel any judgment from her or even pity. He was on neutral ground, no one to scold him, no one telling him ‘I told you so’, and definitely no one making him feel like he isn’t good enough to their husband.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She says with a beaming smile. “I’ve been wondering how you’ve been–though now I guess I do now,” She laughs. “Sorry.. I’m not laughing at you..”

A smile twitches at the corners of Jake’s mouth. “I’ve been wondering about you too,” He says. “We haven't seen or spoken to each other since…”

“We broke up.” She finishes for him.

“Yeah..” He says, looking back at the glass of water sitting in his hand. “Anna, I’m sorry..” He starts. “We ended on not-so-good terms and I apologize.. I know I said some hurtful things–things I didn’t even mean and–”

“Jake, there’s no need to apologize,” Anna says, resting her hand on his shoulder. This wasn't the same feeling as when she pulled him inside the house, but this time he felt her.

“We both said things neither of us meant,” She continued. “Can I be honest?” Jake turns his head back to look at her. “I wish we didn't end at all..”

“What?”

“I should have fought harder but I knew you weren't going to budge.”

“Why didn't you ever call?”

“Because I was too stubborn.. I wanted to prove to you that I could survive without you.”

Jake sighs, allowing his head to drop. “I shouldn't have said that to you. I knew you would, I guess I just wanted you to feel like you couldn't because I was too stubborn myself to let you walk away so easily. I thought if I could manipulate you into believing you couldn't, then you’d stay. I guess now that’s my problem.. I tried to do the same with May.. I tried to make her believe that I was better than the man she was sleeping with..”

“I don't think that would be manipulation on her, Jake.. I think it was more of you trying to believe that you could be better. If you just did all the same things he did, maybe then she’d stay.”

“I could never be like him.. I don't even know why I tried..”

“Because you loved her..”

“Love shouldn't be used as manipulation.”

“No, you’re right.” Anna says, nodding her head. “We do things we shouldn't do because not only can love be a good thing, but it also can be used as a weapon.. And if we misuse it, we end up changing what it’s really meant to be.”

“I’m sorry..” He says. “I abused it and I abused you.”

Anna shakes her head. “None of that.. I’ve moved past it.” She then slides off the stool and places her hands on her hips. “Since you’re here, think you can help me with something?”

Jake furrows his eyebrows but follows her anyways to the second floor. She stops in front of a door and turns around to face him. “I haven't touched this room since we broke up and I left for Seattle.”

“Okay?”

Anna twists the knob and pushes the door open. His eyebrows perk up when he sees most of his things still in the same places they had been before. One of his guitars was lying on the couch, old song sheets he had been filling up were still sprawled out on the coffee table. Though the candles were long since burnt out, they still sat in the same spots around the room. This room has remained the same for the last several years and though they never lived together, he spent a lot of time here with her, especially in this room.

“You haven't touched any of this?” He asks as he steps into the room.

Anna shakes her head. “No.. Could never bring myself to.” She says. “It held a lot of good memories in here, I was too broken at the time to part with any of it.”

“I’m surprised you never gave me this back,” Jake says as he picks up the guitar from the couch. “Probably needs some tuning,” He says, sitting down on the couch and strumming chords. They sounded completely out of tune and he chuckled. “Definitely needs a tune up.”

Anna smiles and leans against the door. “Are any of those songs still good?” She asks, nodding her head towards the music sheets.

Jake leans over to the coffee table and picks up one of the sheets. “It’s possible,” He says. “I’m sure I could find a place for them.”

The doorbell rings and Jake lowers the paper. “Sorry,” Anna sheepishly grins. “I did order food before you showed up.”

“And I am intruding,” Jake says, standing up from the couch and setting the guitar down.

“No, no!” Anna says as they leave the room. “Definitely not intruding.” She goes to the door to get food, thanking the delivery person, and bringing it to the kitchen. “I may have ordered enough food for at least two people,” She giggles. “I’m starving. So please stay if you’re hungry.”

“I don’t think I-”

“I want you to,” Anna says. “Come on, eat some food and hang out. Get your mind off of things for a little while.”

“You actually want me to stay?”

Anna nods her head and begins to pull the food boxes out of the bags. “I’ve missed having you around.” Jake can’t fight the smile that forms on his face.

To him it felt like an hour had passed, but when he glances at the clock on the wall in the living room, he sees that it’s been at least four since he had come here. All of the talking while they ate just made it seem like it hadn’t been that long. “Have to head out?”

“I don’t know, should I?” He says, looking at her with a bit of a coy look in his eyes.

Anna smiles before pushing herself up off the floor. “Stay a little longer.” She says. “Like I said.. I’ve missed you.” She starts to pick up the empty food containers and puts them back into the paper bags.

The music playing through the speaker changes as Anna is leaving the living room. Jake sits up and listens to it as it plays the beginning notes. Without a single thought or the urge to resist, Jake springs off the floor and heads into the kitchen where he finds Anna tossing the trash into the can beside the island.

“Remember when we used to dance to this song?” He asks.

“Yeah.. I remember.” She says. “Except you’d be wearing a little less clothing.”

Jake chuckles, reaching his arms around her waist. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.” He says, pulling her closer. Her hands press against his chest, and he expects her to push him away but instead she slides her hands to his shoulders. “I didn’t know that I’d miss this, but I guess I do.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me that you and May never danced like this?”

Jake shakes his head. “Never.. Always said it was too mushy for her.”

“I’m convinced she isn’t real.”

“Oh she was plenty real,” Jake says. “Just not the romantic type, I guess. We only danced once and that was at the wedding.”

“I am shocked,” Anna giggles. “And you married her because..”

Jake chuckles and spins them both slowly. “I thought I loved her.. I thought she loved me too..”

Soon the song ends and moves on to a lighter, more upbeat song, but they still stand there looking at each other. Jake clears his throat and they both pull away. “Ahem.. Well, I should probably get going,” He says. “I took up enough of your day.”

“Just so you can go stay in a hotel room?” Anna says as she grabs his jacket.

“Anna, give me my jacket.” Anna shakes her head and backs away. “Anna, I’m being serious. Give me it.”

“You are not going anywhere.” She says as she keeps backing away.

“Are you going to hold me hostage?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

She got him there. It honestly wouldn't be bad to be held captive by his ex-girlfriend. Someone he truly did love–and still might. Anna winks and takes off running upstairs.

“Not the stairs..” He grumbles as he runs up them as well. Reaching the too of the stairs, he sees her standing outside of her bedroom and shaking his jacket lightly in the air. “Anna, come on. Please give me my jacket.” He says as he walks down the hallway.

“Promise you’ll stay?”

He sighs, stopping in front of her. “I really need to go. Anna, please?”

“Why are you in such a rush to get out of here?” She asks. “Has it really been that bad?”

“Anna..”

“Why’d you even come here then?”

“It’s not like that, I loved being here, but I just got divorced and I can’t just rebound so fast.”

“Rebound?”

Jake mentally smacked his forehead as he sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I am not a rebound, Jake. I don’t want you to stay so I can sleep with you again. I wanted you to stay because it’s a lot better than staying in a crappy hotel. And besides, I’m not the rebound,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “She was..”

Jake’s lips twitch at the corners as he begins to smirk. “Were you jealous of her?”

“Pfft, jealous? Please. At least my body’s real.” Jake’s jaw fell slack in disbelief he ever heard her utter such words. He’s never heard her speak ill of anyone, she always kept it to herself. “What?” Anna shrugs her shoulders. “There were times that I wondered why you ever fell in love with her?”

“You thought about me?”

“Yeah.. But mostly about why you were so stupid to want to be with someone like her.”

“You’re sounding like Josh.”

“Yes well, at least I’m talking to you.”

Jake scoffs and leans against the wall. “I wasted all those years with her, when I could have just been fighting to get you back.” He says.

“So why didn’t you?”

“I figured you still hated me,” He says. “We were so mean to each other at the end, I just thought you wouldn't want to talk to me–or even see me.”

“Instead you got together with May.”

Jake nods his head. “At the time I thought I was doing the right thing–moving on. I saw you had, so why shouldn’t I? I kept telling myself that I was better off without you and I could prove that to you. At first it was just a means to rub it in your face, but then I actually started to fall for her. She was sweet then, so kind to everyone, even my family.”

“Except Josh..”

“Yeah, except him. He never came around if she was with me.. I didn't get why he was, but now I see it. It’s because of her we don’t speak anymore. I don’t think we ever will.”

“Did it end that badly between you two?”

“It was so stupid..”

Now they were seated on the floor in the hallway while the music still played downstairs, the sound slightly muffled through the floor. Anna still had his jacket, keeping it resting on her lap as he talked.

“Karma smacked me right in the face when he gave me an ultimatum.. It was either him–or her. Kind of how I gave you an ultimatum before we broke up.. Me or your career..”

Anna could still remember that day like it was yesterday. They were in his bedroom, screaming at each other, trying to get their own words to be heard over the other. It was a useless fight because they knew what would be happening in the end.

“Jake, I really want to do this. I want to have my own career, make more money so that we can live well.”

“We are living well! My band is making so much revenue and with these side projects and extra jobs I’ve been helping with, I’m making more than enough to take care of us both! I don’t get why you want to start a career!”

“Jake, I want to also be my own person! I’m tired of being only known as ‘Jake’s girlfriend’, I want my own identity back! And this is how I’m going to do it, with or without you!”

“Fine.. The choice is yours then.. It’s either me or your fucking career.”

“You’re making me choose?! I can’t have both?!”

“Me or your career..” He says before walking out of the bedroom.

“I realized it wasn’t fair of me to do that.”

“Ultimately we choose the thing that would ruin the best things in our lives,” Anna says. She shifts her body around so she can sit beside him against the wall. “I chose my career and we broke up. You chose May and now your relationship with Josh is severed… Is that why the band is on a hiatus?”

Jake nods his head. “Josh told our management that the band had “differences that needed to be worked out” so for the time being, the band is on a hiatus until Josh and I fix shit between us. Which is fine.. I have other things to work on..”

“But that band was your dream, Jake. Don’t just give it up because you and Josh are in a tiff.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “My dream already came true, Anna. Maybe it’s a sign to just move on. We’ve accomplished a lot already.”

“You never struck me as a quitter,” Anna says.

“People change..” He says as he starts to fidget with the button on his shirt. “I gave up on my marriage.. I gave up on you..”

“Your marriage was no fault of your own.”

“And you?” He inquires, turning his head to look at her.

“I gave up on you first,” She says, lowering her head so she’s looking down at her lap. “I made my choice.”

“All because I made you make one,” He says.

“It’s in the past,” She says. “I’m more mature now.”

“Oh are you?” He chuckles.

Anna nods her head, smiling, and looks back up at him. “I’ve learned that my own happiness comes first above everything else. I’ll fight for what I want and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Is that why you made me chase you for my coat? You won’t let me leave?”

“You still have a choice, but I’d prefer if you stayed.”

“Why must I stay?”

“Like I said earlier.. I’ve missed you.” She says.

“I’m only going to a hotel. It’s not like I can't come back.”

He can come back. She knows he’ll come back, but she wants him to stay. Stay here with her. She lost him once already, she doesn't want to again. Since he showed up on her porch that afternoon, all she could think about was finally getting her second chance with him. She has to know if this is meant to be, if fate is trying to correct their mistakes, realign their paths.

“Just stay here. Besides, my bed is so much more comfortable.”

“I don’t know.. Hotel beds are pretty comfy.” Anna flings his jacket at him and he laughs. “Thanks for the offer,” He says. He stands to his feet and helps her up as well.

She takes him by surprise, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She feels his arms wrap around her waist, hugging her back. “I have Egyptian cotton..” She whispers in his ear.

He chuckles, pulling away slightly so he can get a better look at her. “You just won't give up, will you?” Anna shakes her head and he sighs. “Fine.”

A storm raged outside, heavy winds and rain. The rain pounded on the windows as the wind whistled and blew. But what woke Anna from a deep sleep was the loud crack of thunder, loud enough to shake the whole damn house. She jolted awake, sitting upright with her hand coming to rest on her chest. As she takes in deep breaths to calm her body, she feels a hand slide over the top of her thigh and soon Jake is sitting up to her. The feeling of his hand on her leg sent goosebumps flaring on her body.

“Remember the angels bowling?”

“I’m not five,” Anna says as she lays back down in bed.

Jake follows and turns over to face her. Even in the dark he can still see how beautiful she is. Whenever the lightning flashes, though she cringes with every strike, it first lights up her eyes showing the immense beauty of them. Those radiant brown eyes that always seemed to bring him comfort whenever he looked into them. He never compared his exes to each other but he began to realize that he never felt the same way when looking into May’s eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of blue, but they only reminded him of the ocean, raging and chaotic. Though that was May’s nature.

With Anna, she was always calm, unless prompted otherwise. He always knew the moment her eyes grew a shade darker that she was not happy. He quickly learned her boundaries and knew what made her tick and what made her explode. He knew what annoyed her and what pissed her off. He knew her like the back of his hand.

“You’re staring at me..” She says, drawing him out of his head.

“Sorry..” He mutters, turning back over to lay on his back.

“Jake?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever thought about what our lives would have been like if we didn't break up?”

“I think we would have been miserable,” He says. “If you had chosen me over your career, I think it would have been rough. You’d resent me and I wouldn't have blamed you.”

“Would you have still loved me?”

“I don't think I could ever stop,” He says. “I don't think I ever did.. Would you have still loved me?”

“No..”

“Oh..”

“Let me explain why,” She says. “It wouldn't have been the love that I felt for you romantically, I would have felt it like I do with any other person that I love. I would have resented you truthfully, I was beginning to feel that way when you made me choose between you and my career. I couldn't understand why it was “either or” instead of “both”. I hated you for making me choose because either choice I made, I would lose something that’s important to me. When I chose my career, I lost you.”

“I’m here now..”

“Jake..”

“Just hear me out..” He says. “And don’t deny that you thought the same thing.. I think this was meant to happen,” He turns back over to face her again and grabs hold of her hand. “We needed to grow apart in order to grow separately. Whatever fucking lesson the universe was trying to teach me, I think I learned it. Anna, I still love you and being with you today? I just felt like I was back where I belonged. I felt like I was home. Dancing with you in the kitchen, I missed that terribly. I missed being close to you and I missed touching you, loving you, making love to you. I wanted to kiss you so badly at that moment but I had a feeling it wasn't the right time. And I know you feel the same because I could see it when you look at me.”

“All you had to say was that you missed me too.” Anna says, turning her head to look at me. “I’ve been telling you that this whole time.”

Jake moves a little closer and turns her head, caressing her cheek in his palm. “Please don’t tell me to stop.”

Anna slightly shakes her head, “I wished you would have kissed me when we were dancing,” She says. “Just like we used to.”

When their lips touched, it felt as if they were brought back to the beginning. The initial sensation one feels for the first time when they know they’ve fallen in love.

Jake’s hand moves from her face and down to her hips, pulling her closer to his body as their kissing deepens and grows more heated. Even as their lungs burned and begged for air, they refused to pull apart. That is until Jake really couldn't breathe and reluctantly gave in. His chest heaved as his heart pounded beneath his ribcage. He hadn't realized her hand was on the side of his face until she rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone.

“You said you missed making love,” She says. “No one could ever love me like you did.”

“Are you asking or just talking?”

“I’m asking,” She says. “Please?”

“You know I would never deny you,” He says, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of her pajama pants, first squeezing her hand, making her giggle.

Jake wakes up to an empty bed beside him, the sun filtering in through the half open curtains. Downstairs he can hear a couple voices, one of which is Anna’s. Changing back into his clothes, he quietly slips out of the room and heads to the top of the stairs. He knows he shouldn't be eavesdropping, an invasion of privacy.

“You never met her..” He hears Josh’s voice.

Josh? He’s here?

“Sounds like I didn't need to,” Anna giggles. “But come on.. He’s your brother.”

“And? He made no effort to fix things.”

“How could he?” Anna says. She hands the warm tea to Josh and sits beside him on the couch. “You have to let him speak to you… I know you miss him..”

Josh looks down at the tea in his hands. “Yeah.. I do,” He says. “But he has to have understood why I did what I did.”

“I think he does..”

“Sucks that a divorce was what made him realize it..” Josh grows quiet again and takes a drink of his tea. “Is he here?”

Anna nods her head. “He’s asleep upstairs,” She says.

“How did he end up here anyways?”

Anna shrugs her shoulders. “I don't know, but I’m glad he did.”

“Second chance?”

“Can that happen?”

Josh takes another drink of his tea before turning his body on the couch to face Anna. “I think so,” He says. “And I’m not just saying that because I think you’re better for him. I say that because somehow he came to you when he could have just gone back to sleeping on Danny’s couch.”

“You knew?” He knew?

“Danny texted me asking if I knew what was going on. Obviously I didn’t know what was going on. I still don’t. I mean.. I know he’s divorced.. I saw May’s post online, flaunting herself all on some guy.”

Leaving the stairs, Jake goes back to the room and grabs his phone off of the nightstand. Sure enough, the top photo on her profile was of her locking lips with the same guy she was having an affair with. Without a doubt the whole world already knows about the divorce that was only just made “official” last night. It hasn’t even been finalized with the lawyers and she’s already flaunting her “new” relationship on the internet.

Not wanting to see her again..ever..he blocked her on everything and tossed his phone onto the bed.

“I told you he was awake!” He hears Josh shout. Looking up he sees his brother standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “Twin telepathy, she still doesn't believe me.” He says as he enters the room.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Jake says.

“I originally went to your house when I heard about the divorce.”

Jake scoffs. “It’s all over the internet..”

“That too,” He says. “Mom called as well.”

“Fantastic..” Jake grumbles.

“What prompted this to happen anyways?”

“Turns out I’m not who she wanted to be with..” He says. “So you were right, go ahead and gloat.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Josh says. “Despite how much I want to. I know you loved her.”

“I did.. Until I found out she was having an affair.” Jake goes to sit back down on the bed. “I caught her when I got back home from a work trip.. She didn't know I was back so I left and stayed with Danny.”

“That explains it,” Josh says as he sits beside Jake. “Mom’s worried. You might want to call her.”

Jake shakes her head. “I don't want to talk to anyone…”

“Why? The divorce wasn't your fault, it wasn’t even your choice.”

“Doesn't matter Josh, I’m a failure.”

“You are not a fail-”

“Yes, I am!” Jake exclaims as he stands up from the bed. “Apparently sex with me isn't great and I’m not a good enough husband.”

“That’s not true.”

“No?” He says, turning back to face Josh. “Okay so then you get married, be cheated on again and again and later divorced because the person you chose to spend the rest of your life with doesn't feel the same. She wants sex, Josh, sex that apparently I can’t give her.” His eyes begin to fill with tears. “I loved her, Josh, and she broke me..” Josh pulls him in for a hug, holding him close as he starts to cry.

Anna stands outside of the bedroom, leaning against the wall as she listens to their conversation. Hearing Jake cry, believing he wasn’t good enough in his marriage, her heart breaks even more knowing just how deeply he was wounded when he never uttered the words to her.

“You are the perfect husband for someone, I’m sure of it.” Josh says as he pulls away from Jake. “As for the sex? I can’t speak on that.”

“Fuck off..” Jake grumbles as he playfully shoves Josh.

“Oh Anna!” Josh sings out.

“Josh, knock it off.”

Anna steps into the room and walks over to the two of them. “I know you two slept together, so remind him if he’s good or not.”

Jake turns to face Anna, his brows furrowing. “Did you tell him?”

“What? No.”

“Wait.. Stop.. You two.. Last night?” Anna and Jake both glance at each other making Josh’s jaw fall open. “I was talking about back when you two were a thing but last night?”

“It..just happened..” Jake says, scratching the back of his head. “We got to talking to each other and then–why am I even explaining this to you? Do you not approve of that either? I just got divorced, what business do I have sleeping with my ex-girlfriend?”

Sleeping with his ex-girlfriend? Sleeping?

“I’ll let you two figure that out,” Anna says. “I’m going to go get started on lunch..”

As she dumped pasta into a pot of boiling water on the stove, she felt Jake’s hands slide around her waist. “I didn’t mean to say it like that,” He says. “I loved every second of making love with you.”

“It’s fine..” She says as she sets the empty box to the counter beside the stove.

“You don’t sound fine,” He says.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Jake,” She says as she turns around to face him. “What is this?” She asks, motioning her finger between the both of them. “You’re right, you just got divorced and now you’re here with me. What is any of this supposed to mean?”

“What if this is our second chance?” He says. “This old flame that used to burn between us, what if we have this chance to reignite it?”

“Do you really want to jump right back into this?” She asks.

“If it means that I get to love you again? Yes. I realized last night while we were together that this is my home–you are my home.”

“This is insane, Jake, don’t you think so?”

“Love makes people do crazy things,” He says. “I showed up here, I don’t know why. Then suddenly we’re having sex in the same bed and it just feels right.”

“Where’s Josh?” She asks.

“He left, why?”

“Good,” She says smiling. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him close and presses her lips against his. “May is missing out on a very great man,” She says when they pull apart.

“No..” He says, lowering his head.

“Yes,” She lifts his chin, noticing the tears beginning to fill his eyes. “Hey, you have always been a great man.”

“How could I be? I was such a jerk when we broke up.”

“Yes, true. But before then, you were so loving and attentive. You loved me immensely in all aspects. You were my greatest love.. And who knows, maybe you can be again.”

“Maybe we’ll find out after lunch,” He says. “Before we burn this place down,” He reaches behind her and turns the burner down, allowing the boiling water and pasta to simmer down.

Lunch went by quickly and soon they found themselves right back where they started this morning. Clothes were shredded and discarded in various areas on the bedroom floor. That old flame that was extinguished years ago was finally getting its chance to burn big and bright. Being wrapped up in him for the second time wasn’t the same as it used to be but it still felt right, newer. Both of them are older and mature, both moved on from the past. Not a thought looms over them of his divorce or their past they shared together. All that mattered in the moment was the present as well as the future that dangled above their heads instead.

This time making love to her, he took in more details than he did the prior. She didn’t bear the small hips of her youth, they were slightly wider. Her breasts looked bigger, noting how his hands just barely covered them completely. She was filled in all of the aspects of her body and he found himself falling in love with all of it all over again. His fingers lightly traced the few gray hairs that littered her dark hair. Though she shied away, he would draw her back, reminding her that she still looked as beautiful as she ever did.

“The gray simply comes with the territory of growing older,” He says. “It’s an older beauty that must be cherished just as much as the youthful beauty we still long to have. It means we have lived, continuing to live, growing older with each second and minute that passes us by. Beauty follows us in every stage.”

“You have got to stop reading Jane Austrn,” Anna teases.

Jake chuckles, “It doesn’t come from Jane Austen,” He says. “It comes from Jacob Kiszka.” Anna giggles and lightly swats at his cheek.

“Do you have any gray hairs, Jacob Kiszka?”

“Not one.”

“Liar..” Anna brings her hands up to his hair and begins picking through it. “You do!” She exclaims. “Such an old man..”

“Old?” He fanes offense and rolls his eyes. “So then if I’m old, then that means you’re old too.”

“Never call me old again,” She says, pointing a stern finger at him. “I am not old, I am thirty-five.”

“Almost forty.”

“Jacob, you better shut your mouth.”

“Or what?” He says, raising his eyebrows as he smirks. Rolling over, he hovers above her, flicking his hair off to the side and out from the front of his hair. “Face it, Anna. We’ll be turning forty before we know it.”

Anna groans, “Don’t remind me. My body is already showing signs of middle age.”

Jake laughs and leans down to kiss her. “You and I both. My ass is starting to sag, I think.”

“Oh shut up,” Anna laughs.

Jake laughs again, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He begins to kiss down her neck, instinctively grinding against her center. “Let us grow old together,” He says. “Our asses sagging as our hair grows grayer, making love to each other as often we want. Who knows, maybe a kid or two..”

“I always wondered if you’d have any children by now,” Anna says. “Or at least one.”

“I wanted at least one by now, but she wasn’t ready.” He says. “And if I’m being honest, I only ever dreamt of having children with you. They’d have your beautiful smile, maybe even your eyes.”

“As long as they have your nose,” Anna says as she traces her finger over the bridge of his nose. “But we have to work on ourselves first before we start jumping into becoming parents. We only just reunited, I do not want to rush the time that I have with you–with us.”

“You will always have me–even if we did have little feet running through the house.” He says. “Nothing and no one can keep me from you, not this time.” Slowly he pushes inside of her, feeding on the soft moan that spilled from her mouth. “Let me relight this flame and keep it burning.”

“No more ultimatums?”

Jake shakes his head and thrusts his hips again, pushing deeper inside of her. “No more,” He says. “You will have me—all of me–wherever this new journey takes us, even if I am the one who follows you this time. I do not want to waste seven years of my life again being an idiot. I do not want to let someone use me and not love me for me.”

“I will always love you for you,” Anna says, holding his face in her hands. “I always have.”

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @musicislove3389 @takenbythemadness @wildbluesorbit

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf

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pholla-jm · 2 days ago

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The Number You Have Reached

IMAGINE: THE NUMBER YOU HAVE REACHED~ NANAMI X READER FEAT: YUUJI GENRE: ANGST warnings: major character death. not proof read. major angst... like I cried a little bit while writing. no happy ending ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black slick heel clicks against the tile floor of your home. You stared at the clock in the kitchen. The neon numbers staring at you, mocking you of the time.

He promised you that he would be home in time for your date. There was no reason for him to be late. He was never late. Which caused you to worry.

With a sigh, you pull out your phone. With a single tap on the screen, it lights up showing up the home screen. A picture of you and Nanami. It was a simple picture, but it was easily one of the best days in your life.

The sweet and savory smell of breakfast wakes you up. The thick duvet is immediately pushed aside when you recognize the smell of your favorite. It didn’t even click in your head that Nanami wasn’t in bed.

You walk into the kitchen, immediately blessed with a beautiful view. The table was set up, two plates and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers as the centerpiece.

Nanami stood in front of the stove only wearing dark sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His blonde hair was a bit disheveled and pushed back.

You swear, you could take a bite of his biceps and be content. He just looked so delicious at this moment.

Nanami hears your steps and he turns around to give you a smile. There was a certain light in his eyes, like he was excited about something. “What’s all this?” You ask, really hoping he wasn’t going to say anniversary. You would feel terrible if you got the date wrong.

“Nothing special, just felt like making you breakfast.” He says and you hum with a smile. You look past him, seeing the plate of your favorite foods.

“Yeah? And it just so happened to be crepes and fresh fruit? My favorite. I think you’re buttering me up for something.”

Nanami shakes his head, grabbing the plate and bringing it over the table. “Would that be horrible?” “I guess not,” you walk over to the refrigerator, “juice?”

Nanami stops you before you can open the fridge. His hands firm on your shoulders and he drags you to the chair at the kitchen table. “I got it. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

You just smile at him, wondering what was really going on.

He grabs the drink for both of you and finally settles down to eat with you.

“Thank you for breakfast, it’s delicious.” You say after taking the first bite. Nanami hums in acknowledgement, and you can see that he is fidgeting with something.

You look down at his hands- well one of his hands- stuck in his pocket. You could tell that there was something in there.

Deciding not to beat around the bush, you ask him, “what’s in your pocket?”Nanami’s eyes shoot up at you and he chuckles, “always straight to the point… that’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

You could feel your cheeks flush at his comments, “what’s going on?”

Nanami let out a deep exhale before standing up and walking over to your side.

He suddenly gets down on one knee and your eyes widen.

No… he couldn’t be doing what you think he is…

“(y/n), from the moment we met, my world has been brighter. Every laugh we've shared, every quiet moment we've spent together, and every challenge we've faced side by side have only made me more sure of one thing: you are the person I want to walk through life with.”

You could feel tears well up in your eyes as he spoke.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know this: I want to face it with you. I want to build a life together, filled with memories, laughter, and love. I want to be your partner in everything.

So I ask, will you marry me?”

You don’t hesitate to give him an answer as he pulls out the small box. Opening it to reveal the elegant diamond ring.

“Yes!” You push yourself forward into his arms, nearly knocking him over. But his arms wrapped around you, stabilizing the both of you.

Nanami laughs in relief. He couldn’t believe that he was finally going to get married to you.

He pulls back, just enough to slip the ring onto your left ring finger.

You stare in awe, the ring was beautiful and it fit just right.

“Wait,” you say, grabbing the phone off the table, “I want to capture this moment.”

The photo of you and Nanami stared back at you. Both happy and smiling faces. Your left hand rested on his cheek, showing off the engagement ring.

With another sigh, you swipe up to unlock the phone. You click on Nanami’s profile, his phone ringing a few times before it goes straight to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Nanami, I am unavailable at the moment so please leave a message after the beep.”

You smile hearing his voice, so simple and to the point.

The phone beeped, signaling to leave the message.

“Hey, Kento, baby. It’s me. Well you know that. It’s-” you look at the neon numbers shining in the kitchen “it’s almost nine now. You’re never late. Just let me know if you're safe. Love you.” You click the red button, ending the message.

Your head tilts back, looking at the ceiling. “Ken… where are you?” You whisper to yourself.

Another thirty minutes go by and you decide to call him two more times. Again, straight to voicemail.

It was midnight now, and it now dawns on you that he was not coming home for date night.

You head back to your shared room, and get ready for bed. He had to have a good reason as to not answering any of your calls or texts. Well he better… or he would have hell.

Harsh knocking pulls you from your slumber. The urgency causing you to fall out of bed, the duvets and blankets getting tangled up.

“Oh my god… who is this loud at this hour?” You ask yourself as you compose yourself to answer the door.

You were hoping it was Nanami, since you noticed that he still wasn’t in bed.

However, it wasn’t him when you opened the door.

“Yuuji?” You ask, confused to see him at your door. You could tell that he was going through it. He was littered in cuts, and underneath his eyes were red. “Come in.” You don’t wait for him to answer.

You know Nanami’s relationship with the young boy.

Yuuji looks at you with pity, like something was weighing him down. He doesn't say anything though. He comes inside and you motion to the couch for him to sit.

He sits down on the plush couch. “I’ll get you something to drink and a first aid kit.”

“No. I’m okay.”

It was the first words to tumble out of his mouth. You could tell that his voice was heavy with pain. You give him a look and sit next to him.

“Okay… why are you here then?”

Yuuji tense up, his fist balling up in his lap. Just thinking about him brought him in great distress.

Tears started to well up in his eyes again and the silence was starting to thicken the tension in the room.

You could feel something was wrong.

“Yuuji…” his name comes out in a softless whisper and it causes him to flinch, “where’s Nanami?”

Yuuji chokes out a sob just from hearing his name. And that was all you needed to hear.

You didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be right.

You couldn’t even bare yourself to comfort the young boy on your couch. You lifted yourself up from the couch and went to your room.

Yuuji flinches, his eyes squeezing shut at the sounds of your sobbing and wailing. Truly broken and full of sorrow. He didn’t know how to comfort you himself. He really did want to go to your room and comfort you. But how could he if he was grieving and coming to terms to reality.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He stood up and left. Leaving you to grieve on your own.

You sat on the floor, next to Nanami’s side of the bed. Tears streamed down your face as you gripped the blanket that belonged to Nanami’s side of the bed.

Your hands were shaking and it honestly felt like you couldn’t breathe.

All you could feel was a sense of grief, but there was a hint of something else. Anger. Anger towards the jujutsu society. How could they allow him to do something like this? On top of that, they couldn’t even tell you of his death.

A kid had to deliver the news.

That night, for the first time in many many years. You cried yourself to sleep.

“You’ve reached Nanami, I am unavailable at the moment so please leave a message after the beep.”

His voice echoes in your head as you stare off into space.

It was the only way you could hear his voice. So you kept calling his number over and over again. Just to hear his deep voice. It somehow brought you comfort. Only for a while though.

It held no real meaning afterall. He wasn’t really speaking to you.

It was just enough to keep you down on earth.

“Mrs. (y/n).” Yuuji says your name, a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, underneath your eyes still tinged red and swollen. Yuuji slightly cringes to himself.

He wore a black suit, and you wore a black kimono. Funeral attire. It still didn’t feel real. But it had to be real now, right?

You watched his casket be buried. You didn’t get to see him one last time though. It was a closed casket, which made you even more sick.

Yuuji didn’t have the heart to tell you, but he knows if he didn’t then you would sit here for days on end.

“It’s time to go home now.” He whispers. Yuuji had moved in. Hoping to help you with your grief, knowing that’s what Nanami would’ve wanted. You both needed each other, you just didn’t realize it yet.

“Can I stay for five more minutes?” You whisper back, your voice cracking a bit.

Yuuji nods his head, stepping a few feet back to give you your space and privacy.

You turn back to his headstone. Reaching into the pocket of your kimono, you pull out your cell phone.

It was like muscle memory now. Your fingers dance along the screen to click on Nanami’s profile. Just to hear his voice one more time.

The phone rang only once this time, a different message waiting for you on the other side,

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

#oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento x you #nanami angst

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shvdwscng · 1 day ago

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she wasn't entirely unassuming of what was transpiring between all this time, only it was simply easy to ignore when she could list endless excuses and reasons to entertain it. yet, she never entertained that he loves her, that he wishes to be with her in every sense of the word until now. there he went again, saying the right things and each time more tender words fell from him, too many emotions claw at her. they barrel towards her all at once, but not one she could process. alina had learned to endure much, and wiping away every unwanted emotion was a skill she had in spades, but her skills all fail her in this moment. she realized gradually that cedrian had slowly began to read and understood her silences. perhaps she had not done a greater job shielding herself from his gaze, or that she had severely underestimated him and his determination. "yet somehow you still understand." alina certainly didn't think herself worthy of him or his heart, but it was not meant to disparage herself, only that she had understood where her strengths and weaknesses lied. the language of love and affections were absent in her childhood, vanished the moment her mother left her world. and cedrian's existence was proof that she was capable of love, only that she now feared that her love was far too tainted of the shadows of her past. that no matter how hard she tried, how selflessly she loved him, it would drown in her selfishness. was it not now? instead of doing the right thing of ending things and allowing him to find someone worthy of him, she didn't wish to let him go. alina wanted all of him as he offered her, she wanted him to be hers, and perhaps once she could talk herself out of it but now? it was impossible not when he all declared himself hers. everything she had learned about him from the moment they shared their first night together, told her they should not fit the way they do, that nothing of them made sense together. he was everything she wished to be, but would never be, and everything she wanted for herself. and yet as opposites they fit. as if she has found all the broken pieces of herself within his own. he did not speak of his wife ever, perhaps out of respect for alina, but he did not need to for alina to know her passing had left broken him in pieces. she was perhaps foolish to ever believe she could control anything of him, for all the control the high lady held, she learned she held little of it when it came to her heart. cedrian had easily claimed it without her even realizing it until she reached for his. "perhaps i do not need to understand." she finally says, relinquishing a bit the tightly reigned control she held, it slipped each time he gazed at her as he did now. "yes, you do." he did know her, of course he did just as she knew him. each moment she knew more of him, alina knew she had been done for. "nor will i ever understand what i have done to deserve you. only that, i had longed to know what it would feel to be loved by someone as transcendent as you. i do not need anything cedrian, you do not know what you have given me thus far and what you've done for me." her heart is erratic, hearing his thoughts of her, he calls her magnificent? what of he? as if he were any less. "i am humbled nonetheless." she meets his gaze, catching his own uncertain gaze, but it was a look that tugged at her heart, "they were never gone, darling, only dormant, and that is why i am humbled, because you offered them to me. you will never be anything less than perfect to me, you will not understand this so i will implore you to trust me." were she better she would convey how she thought of him, but in due time she would. "i am not magnificent, that is you."

"no, i do not, but i relish in what i see in your gaze for me, nonetheless." selfishly, she never wished for him to gaze at her as anything other than he did now, but whether that changed when she let him, she would worry of them. however, alina would be insulting him and his love if she believed anything less. "you do not believe you deserve that and far more?" he was a man of his words, something she could claim little of men in general. the only man she had ever trusted before ced, was daxton, her surrogate brother who never left her side from childhood to now, despite knowing what she capable of. she would never quite grow accustomed to hearing him reiterate he loves her, alina does make a silent vow that she would try to be partner he deserved, she would try every moment of her existence to be deserving of him. it was fearful, all that still existed around them, their circumstances, that would the surroundings taint what they had. all fears alina forced away, because she realizes they were things they would figure out and solve together. her fingers gently stroke his cheek, memorizing every detail of him with both her hands and her gaze, as if she hadn't already done so. "i sense you knew you have all of me already." there was a slight twitch of her lips at his endearment of her, "a summer storm i wish to keep you far away from, cedrian. however, i was wrong because every storm and sea needs her harbor." if she was the storm, than cedrian was her shores that anchored her, reminded her she had a home. she's still when he cups her face and doesn't allow her to remove her gaze, nor would she because he speaks, finally of his late wife of what her loss did to him, her heart clenches in pain, denying himself love all for his former high lady, because it he thought it as a honor to the mother his children. it was a different ache that settled into her now, "any who loves their spouse the way you do, would believe the same. you had given your entire existence to her." it wasn't a bad thing at all, "it pains me, only imagining of what you went through after you lost her. fates are cruel, i have never thought of them, but if they brought you to me, perhaps they are not all horrendous. you were a gift to her, and now for me." a heartbeat of silence, "i like that you speak of her, i hope that you continue to do so with me." cedrian would not be the man he is now, she's certain, if he did not love his wife, did not share a life with her. as cruel as that sounded, he would not be who he was without his late wife. "how do you always say the right things?"

with every word, the emotions weigh on her, not in a negative light but she has no idea what to do with his probing gaze. she felt relief speaking of him and his wife, but it was a marvel that after his heartbreak he was willing to love again, and to alina of all. she takes a moment, nuzzling their faces, just to simply feel him, the warmth of his presence, the safe harbor he offered, something she's not known, not this form or variation. what it felt like to lean on someone and not fear that you'd fall. there was fear, but of a different kind, not a lack of trust but fear that if she ever lost cedrian , would she ever recover? she knew the answer. she would not. she feels him visibly relax against her frame when she offers to share the parts of herself she kept locked. "it's what i've done, and what i would have done again." she once more halts here, not wishing to break this moment, only selfishly wishing to relish in his warmth, of being in his arms this way. "you will not condemn me because your heart is too generous for that." deep in her bones, she knew this. alina wondered would loving him, in a way of atoning for her sins? was fates giving her a chance to right the many wrongs on her hands? "i understand why we did, or why i have with you." if she could mend his broken heart, alina could at least lay claim to one good deed in her existence. "for how long you will have me." only that she knew, he didn't give his heart so easily, but neither did alina. when their foreheads pressed together, her breaths are scattered from his kiss, his words and what she had finally told him. the shock of her letting those words slips does not wane quickly. one secret of many free, but one she knew that she gave him a form of happiness with. hearing the words from him, she swore felt every bit of what he did in this moment when she uttered those words to him. she returns his kiss, allowing her lips to linger against his own, "did you believe for a moment, i would not love you? how is that possible?" cedrian had nothing to prove to her, but the high lady had everything to do so.

cedrian couldn't help but marvel at the paradox alina presented herself as. she was an unshakable high lady, fierce, protective of her court and her people, but then she was also showing him such a raw vulnerability that it made him ache. she doubted herself, not understanding what he saw in her, and yet all he could see was a woman who captivated his heart so wholly. every glance, every touch – it all chipped away at the walls he placed around his heart decades prior until all that remained was his love for her. she was his equal in every way, but also his opposite. somehow that mixture made her slot perfectly into his heart in a place he expected to leave vacant. there was no hiding from the truth he'd finally admitted to her and himself. there was no more pretending, this was the precipice of whether their relationship imploded or exploded. alina deserved a fierce love, now he just needed to convince her of that so she could stop fighting their happiness. ced was already prepared to damn all and be with her, they'd figure it out somehow, but was she ? love wasn't always enough – he knew that well – and he believed it was everything else that was holding her back so fiercely. he nearly chuckles when she responds to his words, as if he needs to remind her who he is and that he's not a figment of her control. he's just as able to read her as she is others. " sometimes love isn't something you are meant to understand. " he says softly, heart aching at the belief she's disappointed her siblings. ced doesn't even know how to argue that, how to get her to see that it wasn't true. " because i know you. " is all he offers, deciding that pushing her on her siblings wasn't best in this moment. everything with alina had a time and a place, a patience that he didn't mind offering. " and because you deserve someone who is willing to wait for you – to give you what you need. " he tries to shift things to them, to their relationship and what he offers her. they already had chemistry in the bed, a fierce passion that couldn't be matched, but she also needed to see that he was a good partner for her over all. he only wished she could see herself through his eyes. could see that the self doubt she possessed was not needed. how could she not see the brilliance within herself when she could find every piece of himself he'd hidden or broken ? she dismissed her greatness and believed herself worth nothing – which just wasn't true. " you are utterly magnificent, alina, you don't need to be humbled. " his words ring the truth he believes, the truth he wants her to feel. her admission should ignite him, but instead it somehow quiets the raging parts of his mind. hearing her words, they confirm what he'd been too scared to question. " i am far from perfect, alina, but you see the parts of me i thought long gone. " admits he.

he shakes his head lightly, " because you don't see what i see, see that you deserve someone who understands you and still loves you as i do. " now that the word was out of the bag he seemed to be unable to stop sharing it. cedrian had sworn never to love in this way again, to allow his heart to remain locked away after losing ellena. it wasn't a vow he had taken lightly – but it was one bron of a grief so profound he didn't expect to recover. at the time. yet here alina stood, proving that the widow inside of him had been wrong. she'd shown him that love wasn't a betrayal of his past, but a gift of the present. it wasn't about replacing his late wife in his heart, but finding something new and just as profound. she became his everything when he wasn't even looking. he wasn't foolish enough to let that slip away, no matter the challenges or obstacles they would face. cedrian thought himself the luckiest man alive to have her, and could wait until she was ready… within reason. he tried not to push her, but sometimes he felt she might need it in order to realize what she was trying not to. he closes his eyes when her hand touches his face, relishing the moment. " not when you already have all of me. " he teases lightly, but felt it needed to be said. his eyes part again, finding hers in an instant. " that goes both ways, my summer storm. " he confirms. he wants her, in any way he can have her. sure, ced knows what he wishes that to look like, but he's also not stupid enough to think he can fully walk away from her if she doesn't match that perfectly. he finally reaches up to cup her own cheek, to make sure she doesn't look away because the thoughts in his mind need to be in her own now. " i promised i would never love again after i lost her. i didn't think i deserved to find a new lover and believed i would shame her memory. but that isn't how things work. loving you is a gift, and i sometimes wonder if the fates expected this to happen because of how perfectly you've fit yourself into the broken bits of my heart. " his tone pleads for her to hear him, to believe herself worthy of his love. nothing would turn him off this course he'd chosen, he just needed her to trust in that.

ced's hands drop from her as their faces nuzzle against each other. he mourns the loss of her eyes, able to pick up all she wouldn't say, but respects her need to stop looking into his searing gaze. to give her a few moments. when she agrees to let him in a weight lifts off his shoulders. he'd been aching to hear it, and her words echoed in his mind on repeat. she was willing to give him access to the parts of herself she kept hidden from the world, and that was as much an admission of her feelings for him without her needing to say the four letter word. his hand tightened once more on her waist, anchoring them to one another in this moment as their emotions take over. he's no stranger from it, but he knows this is unlike anything alina has really felt or done before. whatever she gave him was a gift, one she didn't owe him like she claimed but he would happily take. cedrian was greedy when it came to the knowledge alina would offer him. " and i shall listen to every single thing. " he vows. once again he nearly shakes his head, but instead just closes his eyes to center his words. " you shouldn't my resolve, and even if you've done something wretched and horrible i will mourn for what you had to do, for you, and not condemn you for it. " he'd just be sad she was forced into a situation that called for whatever she so clearly thought was dark and scary. little did she know, nothing would sway him. " neither of us were meant to fall for one another, but the cruel turn of fates has decided we have no choice. " because even if she hadn't said it yet – he knew. he may think it not to be true, lie and say he didn't know how she felt, but this moment stole away every excuse he could pretend to give. " but i have come to be grateful of this gift, of being able to love you for as long as you will have me. " he continues. but then her words finally came, and his world shifted off course. he may have felt her affection in her actions, in the other words she offered, but hearing her say those words out loud was like a melody to his ears. she loved him. he closes his eyes, lets their foreheads press against one another to reply before he kisses her again. " it means more than i can ever explain to hear you say that. " he admits, words thick with emotion that threatened to close up his throat. she'd given him everything, and he wanted to prove her how worthy he was of her love every moment she would allow it.

#( 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫. ) * interactions #𝗥𝗘. alina & cedrian

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