#* WITH EACH DAWN SHE FOUND NEW HOPE *

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

[allaglow]

Cinderella, are you a morning person or evening person? Do you feel most alive when looking at the rising sun, or watching the moon glow?

"As a child, I rose with the dawn. I loved having the entire day ahead to spend with my father- running, dancing, and learning all about his business affairs. Once my Stepmother took over the household, I often found myself working late into the night, making it harder and harder to get up in the morning. There was also a comfort in staying up, as I was generally the only one in the household awake. Something about the moon and its beams feel protective for that reason- the shining light in, otherwise, utter darkness."

[sunkissed-zegras]

★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!

─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

APRIL 1, 2024

THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.

Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.

Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.

As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.

"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.

The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.

The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.

A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.

Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.

Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."

Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."

"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."

Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"

Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."

Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."

"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."

Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.

Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."

Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."

Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."

Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."

Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."

The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.

──

"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"

Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.

Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.

Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.

Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.

"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.

Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."

Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."

Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."

Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."

Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."

"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."

The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.

You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.

The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.

After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."

Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."

──

APRIL 5, 2024

"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.

The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.

"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."

Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"

Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"

You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."

Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."

As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"

The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.

As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.

But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.

Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.

You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.

"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.

As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.

All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.

In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.

"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.

She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.

Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.

The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.

Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.

Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.

In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.

"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."

The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.

As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."

When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.

"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"

The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.

You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.

As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.

Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.

"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"

"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.

Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."

You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."

Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."

Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.

Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.

And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.

"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."

His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."

The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.

As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.

Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."

Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"

You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.

──

"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[reasonsforhope]

Early mornings are chilly in Los Romero, a village high up in the mountains of western Guatemala. As in other predominantly Mam villages – Indigenous Maya people who have lived here since pre-Columbian times – households come quietly to life before dawn. Isabel Romero, a grandmother with long black hair, used to feel somewhat trapped in hers.

“I was afraid of speaking because I was cooped up at home. I didn’t go out,” she says, explaining that like many Mam women, her days were dedicated to the hard work of running a household with little money, and she rarely spoke with other women. “I worried a lot and had headaches.”

Residents of Los Romero live mainly from subsistence farming, growing maize, beans and squash, or grazing livestock. Almost 50% of the population is Indigenous in Guatemala, Central America’s biggest economy, but they do not share in its prosperity. Indigenous women in particular are discriminated against and dispossessed, with a life expectancy 13 years lower, and a maternal mortality rate two times higher, than the national average, according to the World Bank.

In Romero’s village and throughout the region, a community-based collective of women’s circles has been quietly improving Indigenous women’s lives, empowering them to find voices that have been suppressed through centuries of marginalisation.

It was a long process, but Romero’s headaches and fear are now a thing of the past. These days she gets out to workshops, meetings and women’s circles. She shares her knowledge of weaving traditional textiles on a backstrap loom and has a leadership role in the women’s group she co- founded: Buena Semilla (Good Seed).

The initiative emerged from Maya Mam women’s experiences, when French physician Anne Marie Chomat brought them together for interviews for her doctoral fieldwork in 2010- 2012. The simple act of gathering with others and sharing their experiences had a profound impact on the women, many of whom are still dealing with the traumatic legacy of Guatemala’s civil war.

During the 1960-1996 armed conflict between leftist guerrilla groups and the military, more than 200,000 people were killed, overwhelmingly Indigenous Maya civilians killed by the army. Another 45,000 were ‘disappeared’. A truth commission concluded that the state committed acts of genocide...

“There’s so much chronic stress and other issues that are not being addressed,” says Chomat, Buena Semilla’s international coordinator, who now lives in Canada. “So much healing happened in that space of women connecting with other women, getting out of their houses, realising: ‘I’m not alone’.”

Once Chomat’s fieldwork was finalised, several participants decided they wanted to continue meeting and with Chomat came up with the idea of women’s circles. With the help of a grant, the project got going in 2013 and now more than 300 women in two municipalities participate every week or two in circles, each comprising roughly 10 to 25 women.

Wearing traditional embroidered huipil blouses and hand-loomed skirts, the women gather, arriving on foot via the dirt roads that weave through the villages. They meet in a home or community building, or outside when they can for the connection with nature. The circle opens with a welcome and a prayer and then the group engages in breathing and movement exercises. Next up is discussion of the nahual, the day’s name and energy according to one of the interlocking ancient Mayan calendars, traditionally used for ceremonial practices. “Here in Santiago Atitlán it is only maybe 20% of people who speak about [knowledge of nahuals], so we are reviving it,” says Quiejú.

Then it’s time for the sharing circle. “More than anything, it is speaking what they have in their hearts,” says Quiejú. But every time and each circle is different, even though the leaders all work from the same guide, she says.

Sometimes circles will have a guided meditation. Sometimes they’ll have a workshop to learn weaving, or another skill that can help them earn money. Sometimes they eat together. Sometimes they cry. Often they laugh. No matter what, they generally end with a group embrace...

Only 1% of Guatemala’s national health budget is designated for mental health, and nearly all of that goes to the country’s one psychiatric hospital. Most mental health professionals are concentrated in the capital, offering psychotherapy and prescribing medications. For those in rural areas, there is little discussion of mental health or access to services.

“There is nothing for the preventative side, to work with families, to work with communities,” says Garavito. However, he emphasised that the concept of buen vivir (good living) among many Indigenous peoples in Latin America, which includes the traditional festivities, ceremonies and community of everyday village life, inherently incorporates good mental health. “Mental health is a fundamentally social concept and that has been a historical and common practice among Indigenous peoples, without them calling it that.”

...Financial constraints also pose challenges. Since 2020, Buena Semilla’s budget has been funded through crowdfunding and small grants. Staff and leaders all work part-time and many volunteer unpaid, but most circles now meet bi-weekly due to a squeeze on funds...

[Note: If you'd like to help, you can find out more and support Buena Semilla here, at their website.]

Despite the challenges, interest keeps growing. Elsa Cortez joined a circle earlier this year, motivated by her sister’s positive experience with Buena Semilla. In her mid-20s, she lives with her parents and as well as helping to run the household, she weaves belts, drawing from a basket full of spools of brightly coloured thread. She did not go out much before.

“There was a mentality that women were only supposed to be in the home or should only do certain things. That’s how we were raised,” she says. “My family was like that too.”

Thanks to Buena Semilla, those dynamics have started to shift in some families, including her own, says Cortez. Now she is exploring the idea of starting a circle specifically for girls, to help build their self-worth and self-esteem.

“It used to be difficult for me to socialise or chat, but now I am starting to socialise more easily,” says Cortez. “In the group I feel like it is psychological therapy every time we meet.”

-via Positive.News, December 8, 2023

[ratridingaskateboard]

Always See Your Face

New girl! Reader x Eddie

Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.

Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!

A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --

--

Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.

Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.

She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.

What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.

Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.

"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.

"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.

Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.

"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.

The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.

"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.

It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.

"Okay, Y/N. This way!"

Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.

--

Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.

She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.

Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.

Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.

"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"

A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.

"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.

There was nothing but silence.

She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.

Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.

This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.

"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.

"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.

"Hey." She waved.

--

A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

—PART FOUR

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.

Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.

Scratch that, something did happen.

[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.

They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.

She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.

Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.

It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.

That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.

He looks different though.

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.

He got redeemed.

Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.

She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.

Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.

“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.

“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.

“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.

“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.

“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.

“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.

“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.

[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.

Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.

“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.

A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.

“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.

“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.

“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.

“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.

“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.

“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.

“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.

“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.

“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.

“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.

“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].

“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.

“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.

“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.

“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.

“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.

“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.

“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.

“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.

“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.

“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.

It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.

Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.

Knock, knock, knock.

Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.

“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.

The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.

Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.

Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.

A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.

“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.

Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.

“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.

“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.

“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.

Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.

“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.

“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.

Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?

“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.

[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.

Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.

“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.

Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.

“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.

This made the others look at her with confusion.

“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.

[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.

“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.

Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!

“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.

“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.

“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.

Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.

“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.

[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.

“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.

Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.

“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.

“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.

“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.

Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.

“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.

“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.

She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.

“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.

[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.

“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.

“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.

End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata

[cookiescribble]

New In Town

A/N: hey there, to the anon that requested this, I lost your actual submission but I hope this lived up to expectation! I started writing this, forgot I started it, and then got sick but I tried my best haha, enjoy! Happy pride month! - mod ghost

p.s. sorry to mod angel, I definitely called her out in this fic lol 

You had only been at the BAU for about a week, but something about Spencer made you feel like a moth drawn to a flame, as cliche as that might be. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself staring at him during briefings or even just sitting at your respective desks. Watching the way his hands would move over pages as he tore his way through books. His reading speed always amazed you, and you wondered how he actually retained any of the information he was taking in. Yesterday, he’d caught your gaze, making eye contact with you and giving you a polite grin before returning back to whatever it was he’d been doing. Your heart nearly pounded itself out of your chest, which is about when it dawned on you that you definitely had feelings for him. Shit, you thought to yourself briefly. It was probably best to keep this to yourself for now, you’d heard a lot about everything he had been through from the other members of the team and figured it’d be best to leave him alone. Even if you thought this while in private, it didn’t seem to actually stop you from flirting with him. What could possibly go wrong? He’d say no, but that wasn’t terrible. A few days later, you found him at his desk before the team was about to fly off to investigate a new case. You, however, weren’t cleared for field work yet, so you had to work in something before he went,

Gently putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, you leaned in closer to him as you said, “Have a safe flight, pretty boy, I’ll see you when you get back,” then walked off toward Garcia while practically being able to feel his eyes on you. Whether that was a good thing or not, you couldn’t tell, and the idea of having to wait until the team came back stirred up some nervousness that seized in the pit of your stomach but you pushed it aside for now to focus on helping Penelope here in Quantico. “I’m sorry, why is Reid making that face?” She laughed as she all but chased you further down the hall and away from the bullpen.

“I’m fairly certain I just called him pretty boy or something, I don’t know. I might’ve blacked out.” You sighed, averting her gaze as much as possible as you pushed through the door leading to all of her equipment.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Spencer!” Garcia cried in excitement, seconds away from jumping up and down. “Could you yell it any louder?? He might hear you! China might hear you–” You grab her arm as you whisper hurriedly, pulling her through the door and closing it behind her, “--wait, am I really that obvious about it?? Who else knows other than you?” “Mainly us girls, don’t worry. But I might be able to help you, see if he likes you back?” “What, have my own spy crew just for a crush? No way, I’ll get over it.” You brush a hand through your hair in embarrassment and frustration as you and her sit next to each other at her desk. All you could think about was Spencer, though. Nothing that happened throughout the day could fix that. Especially when he called a few hours later to ask for information. Garcia picked up the phone before you could react or steel yourself to the idea of talking to him again. “Hey, tall dark and nerdy, talk to me” She spoke quickly, leaning back in her chair. It made you blush, which you silently cursed her for. “Uh, hey, Garcia,” he paused to chuckle, “I need your help–” “Obviously” You started to get up to escape the room and compose yourself, but, much to your chagrin, he’d heard the background noise over the phone, “Is someone else in there with you?” His voice crackled over the phone line again, which made Penelope stop you from moving, 

“Yes, actually,” She nudged you as she spoke,

“H-uh, Hi, Spence.” You spoke up, trying to sound lighthearted. The idea of speaking to him again this soon seized your heart and made it hard to breathe. 

“Hey…as you can probably hear, I made it here safe. No need to worry.” There was a bit of a teasing tone to his voice. You’d never quite heard him use that tone with you before. Or anyone for that matter. 

Before you had time to process that, they were on to talking about the case again and you were able to escape the situation pretty much unscathed. 

The rest of the team didn’t return until later that week, on a Friday, so Garcia got pizza for everyone to celebrate. 

She came to grab you from your desk and the two of you arrived just in time to see something that stirred up something in you, so deep you think you were possessed by one of your distant descendants.

“You’re cutting pizza with a butter knife?!” You ask incredulously, not meaning to come off so viciously. 

Spencer froze, plastic butter knife still in hand as he stabbed into the pizza. 

“We…We don’t have a pizza cutter here, and some of the slices were kinda stuck together with cheese…” he explained, almost frozen in place as he awkwardly chuckled at the ridiculous nature of the conversation while Garcia couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Sorry, I honestly have no idea what came over me. Let’s uh, let’s dig into this pizza, huh? Now that I’m done getting possessed by my grandma?” You joke, going closer to the table with Penelope and grabbing one of the slices that were…cut. Definitely not sawed apart poorly. He’d tried his best. At this current moment, Spencer Reid was honestly just lucky he was cute. Despite that, you smiled politely and spent time with your found family that is the BAU.

That night, after all the fun was over and it was time to go home for a much needed crash, it had been just you and Spencer. You both volunteered to clean up after everything so that everyone else could go home for some much needed rest and to get a start on their weekend. They tried to insist that they’d help, too, but everyone was tired and it wasn’t that big of a mess so there was no need for everyone to stay. 

You thought it’d be fine, because surely you could be at least somewhat normal around him, right? 

The two of you easily talked and joked the whole time, the energy in the room fairly normal until you both reached for the same pizza box. Your hands brushed together and you instinctively looked up at each other, a similar electric feeling running down both your spines. 

“Oh, I can um…I can grab that.” you speak softly, almost afraid to speak in the sudden intense silence. 

“It’s okay, I got it. It’s the least I could do after you almost stabbed me earlier for my inferior method of cutting pizza.” Spence replied with a soft smile.

“Hey, you were the one with the plastic knife, mister.” 

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” 

“Not as long as I’m here,”

You both broke out into laughter then there were a few moments of just eye contact before you’d started to lean in closer slowly. Like too fast of a movement would scare him away. It seemed like he would, too, but before either of you could touch the other, he quickly stood up and away from you.

“Sorry—um, it’s been a long day. I can take care of taking out the rest of the trash, you don’t have to stick around. Thanks for the help, though.” He says hastily, grabbing one of the two bags of garbage bags that sat by the door and quickly rushing off. 

You sighed to yourself and grabbed your bag, heading out for the night and silently cursing at yourself. If it wasn’t awkward before, it would be now. 

But you just couldn’t help yourself around Spencer, everything about him screamed out to you like some sort of siren call. Every time you weren’t around him, basically anything would remind you of him. 

You just needed to bite the bullet and ask him out, so that’s exactly what you were going to do. The worst he could do was say no, right? 

So the week after that, you had finally worked up some courage. The whole team was at a bar together, Spencer being the only one not drinking as per usual. You, being about two drinks in at this point, had enough of tiptoeing around him. 

It’s now or never, you thought. 

You went over to him while everyone else was doing their own thing in different spots in the bar, so it was just the two of you, and you sat yourself next to him. 

Spencer looked over and smiled kindly at you, his brown doe eyes shining in the dim lighting. Your chest flooded with warm affection as soon as you made eye contact with him, and it made you that much more sure about this. 

“Hey, having fun?” he asked cheerfully, the happiest you’d heard him in a while. Since you’d started working at the BAU, you’d realize when you thought about this moment later. 

“Yeah, but um…I really need to ask you something, Spence.” 

“Oh? By all means, go ahead,” he gestures for you to continue, turning his body toward yours to give you his full attention. 

“Okay so…um…I…I like you. Like, I really like you—“ you started to say, before he interjected. 

“This isn’t sounding like a question”

“Spencer, please”

“Sorry, go on” he sheepishly smiled, apparently having fun teasing you a little. 

“Thank you, but I uhh…shit—“ you cursed. 

“You were saying you really like me?” 

“Right—so, I was wondering…if…if you’d want to…maybe…go out sometime? With me?”

“We…are out,” he gestured to the bar around the two of you, “right now.” 

“That’s not what I mean—“

“I know what you mean, and I…I’m not sure.”

“What?”

“I’ve had a lot happen to me recently, between going to jail and everything that happened with Cat, as well as everything else and our jobs themselves…I’m not sure I have room to have someone else in my life. No matter how much I like you, too.” 

You nearly gasped when he said he liked you, too, but you held it back. This was the most emotionally vulnerable he’d ever been around you. You weren’t going to take advantage of that. 

“Well…” you take his hand in both of yours, holding it close to your chest. “We could take things slow…ride things out, y’know? But that’s only if you want to. I’m here to make sure you’re happy. Whether it’s with me or not.”

He stared at you silently for a moment, considering everything you’d just told him. He kept glancing from your eyes to your lips, as if he was contemplating at a speed your slightly buzzed mind wasn’t quite up to keeping up with. 

Before you could speak or even think further on it, he was leaning forward and speaking low enough that only you would be hearing it. 

“Let’s go, let’s go back to my place. We’ll talk about this more, I just can barely hear myself think with the music in here.” 

You nodded and stood up from the booth, both of you waving goodbye to the rest of the team with gentle smiles before walking off. 

Back at his apartment, he barely had the door closed 5 minutes before he was kissing you. 

So much for talking things through. 

The way his lips pressed to yours felt passionate, desperate even. Like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. You let yourself relax into it, your hand drifting up to tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about kissing him just made you want to lose yourself in him until you weren’t sure where each of you ended and began. 

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away, taking in deep breaths and pushing his hair back away from his face but still close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face. 

“Sorry, that…I shouldn’t have—“

Before he could finish, you were pulling him back in for more. He wasn’t about to get away with a kiss like that with just a simple ‘sorry’. Not if you had anything to say about it. 

The two of you ended up tangled together in his bed for the rest of the night, the blanket gently wrapped around you both in a comfortable silence. 

Talking could wait, for now you were just…together, and that was more than enough.

[myladysapphire]

Agape

Agape love is defined as being unconcerned with the self and concerned with the greatest good of another. Agape love isn't born just out of emotions, feelings, familiarity, or attraction but from the will and as a choice. Agape requires faithfulness, commitment, and sacrifice without expecting anything in return.

word count: 798

CW: MDI 18+, smut, p in v, oral sex (f reciving), not beta read.

Aegon Targeryen x fem!reader

a/n very love sappy, but i love tom so its only right

Masterlist

She was a lady from some noble house, sent to kings landing by her father to find some suitable husband, that could only benefit him. But the second she entered kings landing she caught Aegon’s eye, the pair quickly becoming enamoured in each other, and soon any hopes her father had of her making a subtle match was ruined, and she found her match in Aegon instead.

He was the opposite of ideal, he was a first born son and yet was entitled to nothing and already wed. In no Westorsosi world could the two love openly and yet with him she loved him effortlessly. She didn’t love him for the crown he might one day wear, or the riches he adorned, but for him and him alone.

And he, well he never looked for love before her. And yet the second he saw her he knew she was perfect for him, and that love was the only thing he would ever find with her and her alone.

They had planned the a life were they could live, happy in love with no one pulling them apart. And the day came for that dream to become true.

They had been awoken at dawn, a maid entering his chamber with news of his fathers death. And yet no sadness was found. Only hope.

They had exchanged smiles, and quickly packed there things, quickly running through he secret passages of the keep to the dragon pit, where they made their quick escape on the back of sunfyre.

They had nothing too lose and everything to gain from leaving, and that everything was each other.

They had been living in Bravvos for two years in utter bliss.

Aegon having become a moderately successful merchant somehow charming some rich Bravvosi lords into employing him in their trading empire, and she had started to work in a book shop.

They lived comfortably, being given a manor on one of the lord’s estates. They somehow had left with nothing and yet found themselves living in what many may call the laps of luxury.

Though there were some struggles, such as were to hide sunfyre, but the dragon seemed to love the freedom of the continent, disappearing for weeks on end before finally returning.

Another struggle was the fact that they could never seem to get out of bed.

“Gods!” she moaned throwing her head back, she had awoken to Aegon’s head between her thighs, his tongue endlessly teasing her clit, his fingers plunging in and out of her making her peak twice already, and still refused to lift his head.

Gripping the back of his neck, she slowly pulled him away from her heat, him whining at the loss of her sweet taste.  

Though she made up for it as she pulled him into a deep heated kiss, before slowly flipping them, so his head was now against the headboard, and her sat in his lap, there lips never breaking apart.

There bedsheets had long since fallen of the bed, leaving them and just their bare bodies to bathe in the sunlight that was leaking though the curtains, they had half hazardly closed the night before.

She began to grind her heat against his cock, covering him in her wetness, and making his already hard cock, impossibly harder, causing moans to fall from his lips.

“I love you” he whispered against her lips, his arms moving to wrap around hers, before finally reaching down, grabbing his cock and finally entered her, they both moaned as he did.

She moved slowly, grinding her body against his, with slow tortuous movements, kissing him slowly and returning his words as her own.

After several minutes, and pleas form Aegon she changed their positions, so that Aegon now lay flat on his back, his arms pinned down by hers as she finally picked up the pace.

She started to ride up and down his length, griding her hips as she went, leaving Aegon a moaning mess and unable to move as she took only her own pleasure and focused on circling her hips to hit that sweet spot only his cock could reach.

“Faster, please!” Aegon begged, though in truth he was at her mercy, happy to take what ever she would give him, even if it denied him his own peak.

She complied, moving her hands to realise his, instead positioning them to hold onto to his legs behind her, allowing Aegon to grab onto her hips, as she focused on riding up and down his dick, set just at the right angle, so that at every move his cock was hitting her sweet spot.

Before they knew it they were both reaching their peaks, and collapsing together on the bed, only to here Aegon say “Again?”

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog@apollonshootafar@zillahvathek@flrboyd @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99a

to be added to taglist

[writingmeraki]

min ho as your bf hcs !

genre : fluff ! romance !

pairing : min ho x gn!reader, strangers to friends to oblivious idiots to lovers :)

warnings : insecurity and jealousy ( not anything too alarming ), attempt at comedy, kissing, not proofread ! ( lmk if i missed anything ! ) also self indulgent at times 😔

author's note : dawg it's 5:30 am pulled this out of the two last living braincells of my brains to dip my toes into this xo kitty craze i am having, especially for min ho but anyways! idk if i like this, ( it's normal I'm so sorry I'm never sure if i like what i write at times because i end up writing at the ass crack of dawn and that too unhinged 😔) i kinda find it longer than i intended it to be but hope you like it <3 I'll be writing more if I get feedback and expect something else soon :)

word count : 3.4k (💀)

how you met !

- You'd both met when it was your first day at KISS.

- Well since it's Min ho, i feel like it would take a lot for someone to put an impression on him to make him remember them.

- At the welcome party, he was pretty bored, already used to these types of parties when you'd walk in, clueless looking like a deer in headlights, in your pretty little outfit.

- It definitely made him curious nonetheless, even though you seemed lost, you still had a smile, maintaining a confident aura.

- You'd probably be nervous on the inside though, but lucky for you, someone like you, that was Kitty, happened to also seem lost.

- You both connected immediately, her being new to Korea wanting to get to know her own roots and ofc her boyfriend more while you were there because you'd been wanting a change from your life back home and what better city than Seoul !

- Well okay, you didn't really pick it, it was more so of you just throwing a dart at the map back in your room to choose where you wanted to go as a fresh start and it landed on Seoul. You'd call it fate.

- Now back to the party, as you chattered with Kitty, you walked into someone and you felt your breath hitch, upon seeing him.

- It did feel like those cliche weird movie moments, when you think that this is probably it.

- As he was obviously annoyed at Kitty, he turned to the person beside her and his eyes widened.

- It was you. The one that caught his eye right at the beginning.

- Before anything, you flashed your soft smile at him, an apologetic look in your eyes, apologizing for bumping into him, on behalf of Kitty

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to bump into you, I can get you some paper towels?" You said gently and Min ho definitely wanted to continue hearing you, already really loving the way you sounded.

Q would definitely be shocked though, seeing him look flustered, and staring at you, blinking twice. He never thought he'd ever see his best friend being so…speechless.

He literally had to bump his shoulder to snap him out of daze which seemed to have worked, for the most part.

- You all introduced yourselves, finding out they'd been Dae, Kitty's boyfriend's best friends, and with the way she seemed a bit taken aback by the way she looked at Min ho made you feel like you'd definitely didn't know something.

- And unknowingly both Q and Kitty did notice, sharing a puzzled look, at Min ho's state. They'd met a while ago but clearly there was already something there. A new thing, blooming slowly.

how you got together !

- And fast forward a bit, Kitty who was true to her matchmaking skills, knew you both liked each other.

- You'd both hang out often over the few weeks, connecting more and despite her own love life being confused, she was determined to make you both realize you were oblivious idiots who liked each other, idiots nonetheless.

- He'd upgraded to talking freely around you more, but you found out he wasn't the shy person you thought he was the first time you met him, the very next day, when he began to compliment himself and flash his annoyingly handsome smirk at you.

- But despite his cockiness, you knew he cared about those he loved. Small gestures and actions are proof enough. He was someone who cared without showing it much, giving gifts was his love language and that only made you more convinced you'd definitely gained feelings for him.

- And alas, you came to her, spilling out your feelings, how you had already found him attractive since the first time you saw him, at first you genuinely thought he'd be a jerk, knowing better than to think a handsome face had a good personality.

- And as much as you were terrifyingly nervous of having such a revelation regarding a boy you'd met only a few months ago now, you don't think you'd ever regret liking someone like Min ho.

-Now it was up to the matchmaker to make you both realize you were meant to be.

-The perfect match, in her words and Min ho definitely scoffed at her words when she confronted him about his own feelings, definitely not because you had said to never ever mention anything about how you felt to him, she just wanted to make sure, and as always her gut was right.

- As much as he scoffed at her words recalling his own family, he couldn't stop his own heart from fluttering as he thought of being together with you, and even to him, this revelation made him a bit taken aback but he was sure, he was sure about how he felt about you.

- They all planned to get you to confess during the camping trip, unsurprisingly all of your mutual friends knowing you had both liked each other and agreed, getting tired of seeing you pining for each other in secret, as cute as it was.

-Kitty would tell you to dress up nicely, saying she had planned a dinner, making up excuses about how there was this spot, perfect for chilling, you did find her behavior a bit odd, but with her persuasive nature, you agreed.

- She made you wear this one outfit, it was one you'd bought and adored a lot, you didn't even know you had packed it, but it made you look amazing and was made for you, in Kitty's words.

- Then she did your hair and applied light make up, your suspicions being even more, asking her a million questions about whether all this was really necessary if it's going to be just us chilling, her just dismissing your questions.

- Min ho wasn't too different on the other end, but Q knew him. Min ho was one who dressed to impress, more of himself nonetheless, he knew he wouldn't hold back on his style.

- And he was right because when he just told Min ho to dress his best tonight and Min ho being Min ho dressed in a fucking suit. Yeah he was not one to mess around his fashion game.

- Q made up a similar reason, something about a dinner at this cool spot. And Min ho didn't really question much, going along.

- When you were almost near the place, Kitty suddenly placed her hands on your eyes from behind you, making you chuckle nervously, asking her if she'd suddenly had a grudge and had really just brought you out to kill you.

- Kitty rolled her eyes, you not seeing her of course, having your vision being engulfed in a sudden darkness.

Whispering softly into your ears, she told you

"Just trust me on this one and you should thank me later."

- On the other side, Min ho almost screamed when he felt his eyes being covered in a sudden darkness by a blind fold, Q choosing a blind fold knowing if he kept his hands, Min ho would go on a long rant about how to not touch his face, and would probably snap back saying how he said that but he allowed you to touch his face to poke his cheeks.

"Q, bro, as much as I love you, I am not into thi-"

"Shut up."

He led Min ho, now only a feet away from the spot,

"And thank me later genius, preferably with your fancy water, it tastes amazing."

- Kitty and Q looked at each other making sure, you both were facing each other.

- Knowing you both were probably going to say something, they both just smiled at each other and let your eyes become uncovered.

- As you adjusted your eyesight to your surroundings, you'd both spotted each other, surprised was probably what you felt.

- Yet upon seeing the way your hair was done, the way your makeup only enhances your features, your gentle eyes sparkling under the soft moonlight, your outfit only adding to your beauty, Min ho just wanted to treasure you forever if he could as his heart picked up in pace, more enchanted by your mere presence.

- You were no different, a reminder that he was definitely sculpted by Aphrodite herself as the moonlight fell upon his face, his suit only making you more trapped, fitting him perfectly, his hair styled to perfection, some strands escaping and gently resting on his forehead.

"Well! Now that you're both here, enjoy! And oh, don't mess this up, please for the sake of all of us fed up with you oblivious idiots!"

Kitty said suddenly making you look at her, furrowing your eyebrows at her words and upon hearing Q's agreement Min ho narrowed his eyes at being called an idiot and before the both of you could say another word they turned around and left.

- You took in the surroundings, now noticing the glittering fairylights and the table set up in front of you, a rose bouquet placed in the middle, filled with specifically red roses and some candles.

"Looks like they set us up."

Min ho said, already catching onto what this was all about, and it made him just a tad bit nervous

"Oh and uh if you feel uncomfortable, we can go back-"

Giggling at the way he seemed sheepish and nervous at the same time, you shake your head,

"Not at all, we can't let their efforts go to waste now can we? After all, we shouldn't mess this up."

You air quoted the final words, moving forward to take a seat.

Min ho had a small smile on his face as he heard you giggle, nodding along

"Yeah you're right. Covey will probably throw me off this cliff."

You chuckled as you both sat down

"Don't worry, I'll jump after you to save you. Can't let my date be murdered by my best friend."

His eyes widened a bit at your words, you paused a bit wondering if you spoke too much maybe, but all your doubts dissolved when he replied

"What no! You can't hurt yourself because of me!"

- You were sure your cheeks would have hurt from the amount of laughing and giggles you'd share with Min ho that night, convinced you'd never laugh this much in one night your entire life.

- And as the night came to an end, you both sat on the cliff, looking at the stars, sharing sneaky glances and adorable grins. You knew it was the right moment to just let it all out

"Min ho."

Humming at you, he looked at you from his previous stargazing, sitting beside him with his jacket over your shoulders to top off the clicheness, looking just unreal and you had done nothing but call him yet he loves it a lot more than he'd admit.

"I think I'm in love with you."

You said it, there. Out in the open. Out of the temporary home the words had found on the tip of your tongue and you braced yourself for the worst of the worst.

You looked away, gulping back up at the stars.

"Come on now, you can't just look away after that."

Min ho gently cupped your face, to make you look at him, his cooler fingers a contrast to your warm cheeks.

He smirked at you, leaning closer,

"I know you do."

Frowning a bit at his answer, you narrowed your eyes at him, but he had more to say

"But, I don't think I am in love with you though, I know I am definitely in love with you."

You gaped at his words, staring into his sincere eyes, moving yourself closer as he leaned in more and more.

"Can I ?"

He asked softly, foreheads touching each other, your breathing in sync.

"Please."

- It was slow and gentle, something unknown to the both of you, letting your feelings be conveyed through the touch of your lips. You had placed your hands around his neck pulling him closer as his own hands moved to your waist.

You pulled away shortly, needing to breathe, foreheads still touching each other.

"So does this mean we're official ?" You timidly asked and he responded,

"We'll take it however you want it to be but I won't lie, I would love to be your boyfriend."

He finished with a cheeky grin and you giggled

"Okay then, boyfriend."

Pecking him one more time as his grin grew wider, you knew this was probably your biggest happiness till date.

how being in a relationship with him is !

- It was no joke when he said giving gifts was his own love language.

- He spoiled you to the brim, despite your protests. You didn't mind them of course. It's just throughout your life you'd only get such special gifts on big occasions but he got them for you on random Tuesdays and you felt like you were getting more than you deserve.

"Baby, you know how much I love you, this is my own way of showing it." He'd pouted it to you when you had protested once and you being the best partner you tried to be, just accepted them and of course treasured them safely in your room.

- As much as Min ho didn't mind showing affection to you in public because for one he didn't really care about what others thought of his actions,it was his life, he'd been living it how he wanted and wouldn't let anyone change that.

- But he was protective of you in public, holding your hand, though you didn't mind that at all when his larger hands seemed to perfectly wrap around yours as you pulled him closer to you.

- He'd probably let you and only you use his skincare routine products, in fact going in the extra mile and teaching you how to use them and what to use them for, applying them for you, a little like your very own spa treatment, and you giggled sometimes seeing him focused and serious when talking about how you didn't really need them since you were already perfect.

"You're already beautiful though." He told you as he applied a moisturizer on your face that for the love of all good things, you didn't know the name of. "This will just keep your skin looking healthy but if you don't want to use it, we can stop of course."

"It's okay. It feels nice." You hummed as he trailed his fingers gently on your face, massaging it, and he smiled at your content look. He knew you were a little stressed due to some tests hence why he insisted you take a break with him at the moment.

"I'm glad then."

- He knew you loved his cooking, even before you got together, he'd always been making food for you when you would be at his dorm. He already knew your favorite dishes so when you felt down, he'd be ready with your comfort food.

- He loved to hear your little reviews about his cooking, you always had something to say about any dish he made, whether it was just the right amount of spice or how the tofu made the dish even more delicious, he listened to your suggestions and would use that to improve his skills.

- He'd teach you how to cook as well, starting with smaller and less complicated dishes,feeling his heart swell with happiness when you were successful at one and even if you failed, he'd reassure you that it's alright and we can try it again or another dish.

- Kisses were often shared anywhere and anytime even if your friends would complain about it, calling you gross and lovesick fools, you didn't care about what they said when you felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach as your lips touched his.

- You made him a very long playlist consisting of all and every song that reminded you of him, reminded you of moments with him, reminded you of how he made your heart flutter.

- He'd listen to it, telling you what parts he loved and he too had a similar playlist, it was probably the cheesiest thing to do, as Kitty said but then again you felt all kinds of so called cheesy emotions whenever you were with him.

- He would introduce you to his mother, and that too very proudly. You were nervous but he reassured you about how his mom would probably love you and she did, a sigh of relief coming from you when Min ho told you that.

- Your parents, on the other hand, were definitely charmed by him. He knew his way with words and what to say and nonetheless they loved him!

- Study dates in the libraries tended to end up with you giggling at his ridiculous jokes and him teasing you about how you were so cute, making you slap his arm lightly as you would feel your cheeks warm up.

- Playing footsies was always convenient when you were not paying attention to him, too focused on your novel and you just shook your head on the way and stifled your laughter at his pout.

- He was not a jealous person, not at least after you became his. Before sure, he'd glare at those who tried to ask you out, being happy when you turned them down.

- Q reminding him you weren't dating him for him to get jealous but now that you were, he didn't feel the need to get jealous.

- If he felt like someone was looking at you in that way, he'd either wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you cheek, smiling with a certain glint to the other and they got the message alright. Nothing serious but sometimes he can be jealous.

- You, though, you weren't jealous but maybe you tended to get insecure at times. Thinking Min ho could have whoever he wanted yet he chose you as you would find a pretty girl leaning onto him.

But the scoff of disgust as he leaned away, and said something to her which would make her turn around in shame and walk away with her head down, made you look at him, him coming towards your way, smiling as he finally spotted you.

"Hi baby! I was just looking for you." He grinned widely as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, his eyes shining brightly as he looked down at you, in those moments you knew, even if he wanted whoever he wanted, you had him and he had you.

- He's talkative, talking about anything and everything under the sun and moon, you'd give your attention those times, nods of confirmation to questions and gasps of shock when he said something particularly astounding.

- He was grateful to have someone who'd listen to him talk, as simple as that gesture is, he's grateful for that someone to have been you.

- He loves it when you play with his hair as he lays his head on your lap, brushing through his soft locks, easing his worries.

- You love to just cuddle with him when you can, him just holding you when you need it or pulling you onto him from your previous position of sitting beside him on the couch.

- Expect all kinds of date ideas to be pulled off, sometimes by you or by him or even by your friends. Movies, adventure parks, haunted houses, you name it but you think that no matter what, even if you could stare at paint dry on a wall, as long as you have Min ho with you, you couldn't ask for more.

- Despite his cocky moments at times, you sometimes would roll your eyes at him and just sigh softly, or better yet, you love to see his flustered expression whenever you agree on his self praises.

"We all know that my existence is probably the highlight of your day, guys, just admit it." He would say with a smug grin, Q already rolling his eyes and Kitty just scoffing and you replied

"Of course baby, you're the highlight of my life!" You grinned widely at him, chuckling when his ears got a little red and he just nodded "Y-yeah see!"

"I'll be b-back!" You laughed at him,

"Oh he's so whipped for you." Kitty said which only made you laugh more loudly.

- In the end, Min ho was convinced that even if he didn't believe in star crossed lovers, he'd definitely have to thank fate to make someone like you become his.

- And oh Kitty of course.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi !

[cataboliac]

Enkindle

A sequel to Ignite Son Seungwan 11k words

*Hey Wendy, are you at practice today?*

Trembling fingers typed out the message, a hesitation lingering in each keystroke. Releasing a deep breath, you then hit the send button. The cold air seemed to thicken—your body grappling with the nerves that had been building up all day. The whirring noise did little to calm the unease as you anxiously waited for her response.

*Hon! Yes. We are about to finish up. Isn’t it early morning where you are now?*

You smile—Wendy has no suspicions whatsoever. The plan is going smoothly. 

*I just wanted to start the day right by messaging you first, that’s all.*

*You really know how to make me smile.*

You longed to hear those words from that soothing voice, not distorted behind a microphone or a speaker. 

*I miss you so much. Will I see you again for Christmas?*

Her question replaces the nervousness with guilt. You have a definite answer, but she can't know just yet. 

The standard excuse would have to do for now. 

*Sorry Wannie. I am not sure about the holidays. I’ll keep you updated though, okay?*

*I understand, don't worry. I’m just a bit nervous about our comeback show tomorrow. Wish you were here to see it.*

Seungwan has no idea she's in for such a big surprise.

*You're the best group out there. You're gonna crush it. I will stay up to watch it!*

*I love you. Thank you for always knowing how to cheer me up. Good morning! And good night! :) <3 *

*Goodnight Wannie, I love you too.*

“And see you tomorrow,” you murmur as you look out the porthole. The hum of the engine finally became a comforting backdrop as you neared the end of this carefully orchestrated surprise.  The bright Korean skyline slowly comes into view—the warm glow of lights welcoming you home—as the plane makes its final landing approach to Incheon Airport. 

______________________________________________________________

Two years have flown by since you left Korea. The rhythm of your days found a new beat on the chilly streets of your hometown of San Francisco, where you busied yourself teaching choreography classes. You were no longer bound by the constraints of a strict schedule or dietary regimen, relishing in the anonymity that accompanied the bustling life. Rarely did anyone recognize you, and in this newfound simplicity, you were living.

Yet, the plainness of your new life couldn't fill the void that persisted in your heart. No matter how hard you tried to occupy your time, a significant part of you remained in Seoul. You left many friends and family, leaving an unmistakable ache.

Especially the absence of the love of your life. 

Despite agreeing to a long-distance relationship, you and Seungwan were entering unknown territory. It terrified you both to the core. But you found a way to make it work, communicating daily through messages and video calls. Whether it was before dawn or late at night, your day wouldn't feel complete without sharing moments with each other. The longing for physical closeness only intensified as time passed—the desire to return to Korea echoed persistently in your mind.

Thankfully, you saw each other a few times last year. The previous visit was for Christmas—nearly 11 months ago. You both knew that these sporadic reunions were not sustainable in the long run. The absence of physical intimacy, the constant effort to maintain emotional connections, and the doubts lingering in your minds all pointed towards an inevitable ending.

But you weren't willing to let it end like that.

That's why, since your last trip, you've been quietly discussing plans with friends and family. This next trip will hopefully be more permanent—a chance for a more lasting connection.

You hated keeping Seungwan in the dark, but on the other hand, you didn't want to give her false hope if the plan fell through. It was more important to ensure this worked for a long-term stay before telling her.

Your musings are interrupted by the last of your luggage passing by you on the conveyor belt. Thankfully, you grab it effortlessly and lump it onto the trolley. With all of your belongings in check, you head outside. 

As you exit the revolving doors of Incheon Airport, the icy fresh air of Korea greets you once more in its cold, loving embrace as you step out the doors of Incheon Airport. You have almost forgotten how unforgiving the nippy chill of your hometown can be, forcing you to zip up the rest of your jacket. It is so cold you could see the vapor escaping your mouth as you exhale. 

Your phone suddenly rings, making you jump in surprise. You’ve been on guard tonight because you didn’t want news of you arriving in Korea. You quickly check your phone, only to release an exasperated sigh.

*Hey, have you landed yet? :P *

*Sooyoung… I told you not to message me when you’re with Seungwan…*

*So you did land! Welcome back! :P *

*And stop worrying so much! The other three are keeping Seungwan busy. And how will you know where to enter tomorrow? :P *

Inhaling deeply, you release a breath, expelling all the pent-up nerves. Your shoulders gradually relax, a noticeable lightness replacing the tension. Admittedly, there's a twinge of anxiety about tomorrow, but Sooyoung's wisdom prevails—let the plan unfold naturally.

*Fine, fine. What is the plan for tomorrow?*

While waiting for Sooyoung's text, you navigate your trolley through the parking lot in search of your ride to the Airbnb. A distant flash of car headlights grabs your attention. As you draw near, the familiar silver van evokes a wave of fond memories, a visual echo of countless rides to various schedules.

You stand in front of the van—and without warning—the passenger door opens, and someone engulfs into you with a hug.

"You bastard! It is so good to see you again!" Jaesung crushes you with a bear hug, almost taking the air out of your lungs. You manage to reciprocate, laughing as he whips you around like a ragdoll. He was always the most affectionate and most sociable among your group mates. 

"Never change, man. Never change. Now let me in the car!" 

With the help of Jaesung you get your things in the van and leave the parking lot without anyone recognizing you. With some breathing time, Jaesung catches you up on the latest news around the company.

"And all the new trainees are super talented! We try to be more lenient with them, especially the younger ones in school,” Jaesung says excitedly. He decided to stay with the company and help train the new talent.

“This new role really fits you Jae. I'm glad you stayed.” It helps that Jaesung was the leader of your group before getting disbanded.  

“And soon we will be complete again! Once everyone is free,” Jaesung says, a hopeful—and now—realistic wish now that you are here. 

"Just focus on your surprise with your 'Wannie' baby," Jaesung adds, his cutesy teasing tone making you cover your face in embarrassment. 

The van stops at your destination just in time to save you from more teasing. However, this is not the Airbnb you booked. This actually looks like the subdivision you used to live in.

“Jae, what are we doing here?” you ask him as he helps bring your luggage down from the van.

“This is my surprise to you. Open up your hand.” Fearing another of his famous pranks, you reluctantly open your hand to Jaesung, and he drops you the key to your old apartment—the familiar orange keychain still attached.

“No way…”

“Yeah, way! Don’t worry about it, okay? We talked to the place you booked, and we will figure it out. I kept the place tidy for you. And you got it all to yourself for a week cause I will be out for team building with the trainees. I am sure you will have only one guest over." 

You jingle the keys in your hand, a cascade of memories flooding your mind. From returning home after misadventures to triumphant schedules and that unforgettable night when you confessed to Seungwan—that apartment was a safe space for you.

“I don’t know what to say… just thank you so much Jae.”

“Don't get too sentimental on me yet! Now give me another hug.” The two of you embrace. Jaesung is the heart and soul of your group. The brotherly bonds never faded over time—they only grew stronger. 

"Rest up. You have a surprise tomorrow. See you next week, lover boy!”

Jaesung enters the elevator, and you wave goodbye to each other. Feeling inspired by his thoughtful gesture, you turn towards the door of your old apartment with newfound confidence in your plan. Just then, your phone rings, bringing a detailed message from Sooyoung about the surprise strategy. A smile slowly spreads across your face until it reaches its edges. The realization hits you like a speeding train—you are finally on the verge of reuniting with Seungwan.

______________________________________________________________

Red Velvet bows and thanks their audience again for coming to support them. They did not want to leave the stage, but they still had lots to do for the next day. The standing ovation reverberates through the concert hall, the thunderous cheers accompanying their descent down a corridor toward the private room. In the wake of their performance, the members of their dedicated staff resoundingly offer their congratulations for yet another triumphant fan-sign event.

The excitement from the event engulfs Seungwan in a surge of dopamine, saturating her heart with indescribable joy—the feeling is still the same no matter how far someone is in their career. Being back on stage and able to perform is a feeling she could never trade away. It distracted her from thinking about other things. 

Specifically, it distracted her from her thoughts of him. She really wished he could be there, but she knew affording a flight to Korea was no small feat. Seungwan missed it all—the simple touch of his hands, his cheering that pumped her up, the fiery devotion that set her soul on fire. Missing the love of her life came in waves, and sometimes Seungwan felt she was drowning. 

At least for now, Seungwan can surface and put all those negative feelings at the back of her mind and focus all her energy on the comeback. 

While they walked, the members stuck close to Seungwan, feeling more affectionate than usual. Sooyoung wrapped around Seungwan’s shoulder, holding her close to her side.

"Such a fun fan sign! I even got this cute toy from this sweet fan," Sooyoung says as she holds out a miniature plushie of herself.

"Hey, why didn't I get one? Obvious favoritism!" Yeri shouts, playfully narrowing her eyes and making the others chuckle.

"It doesn't feel so long since our last comeback, but the feeling never gets old," Seulgi says as she throws an arm around Seungwan’'s waist.

Joohyun, who was ahead of everyone, opens the door to their room and peaks inside. She smiles knowingly—satisfied with what she sees—then closes the door and waits for everyone to come closer. 

Everyone stops in front of Joohyun, much to Seungwan's bewilderment. "Is there something wrong?" Seungwan asks.

“I took a quick peek inside and saw something interesting. I think it is for all of us,” Joohyun says as she opens the door and steps inside.

“Oh, a surprise?! Let’s see!” Yeri exclaims excitedly.

Everyone enters the room, but the rest hang by the door to let Seungwan explore first. 

The room started off simple with basic furniture. Now, it's transformed, decked out in oriental banners, colorful streamers, and red and black wallpaper that matches the classy Chill Kill theme. Giant balloons proudly declare "Congratulations" on one wall. But the most fascinating part is the center table, adorned with a red gift-wrapped box and a bunch of violets—Seungwan's favorite flowers.

Seungwan is left utterly speechless, her mind swarming with a million questions. Slowly, she approaches the bouquet and spots an envelope with her name on it, casually leaning against the box. As she picks it up, her heart skips a beat or two. The distinct cursive handwriting is unmistakably his.

A rush of emotions hits Seungwan like a tidal wave. As she reached for the thick, cream-colored envelope, Seungwan's hands trembled. The weight of emotions threatened to overwhelm her, and she struggled to steady her breathing as tears blurred her vision. Her heart pounded in her chest, aching with anticipation. Trying to control her shaky fingers, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside.

Congratulations on the comeback Wannie! Words cannot put how lucky I am to have met you, that my love is yours, and our two lives are woven and welded together. I will always be beside you. I promise. 

As Seungwan read the words on the page, her heart began to flutter, and her cheeks flushed rosy red. She couldn't help but embrace the letter tightly against her chest, imagining the feeling of his arms around her. The bouquet of freshly picked flowers, a mystery gift tucked within, and now this heartfelt letter; he always had a way of surprising her. Yet, as grateful as she was for these tokens of love, they reminded her of his absence. The room felt emptier than ever as if it longed for him to fill it with his presence. These conflicting emotions stirred in Seungwan's heart, intensifying her longing for him even more.

“This…this is so beautiful. I really wished you were here,” she says, hoping the winds carry her words to the other side of the world.

“I always got your back.” 

Seungwan freezes, her body reacting to that familiar voice—the hairs on her skin rising, hands shaking, and knees threatening to give out. Memories of doubts and fears resurface, remnants of a time when she believed she might never be together with the love of her life again. Those thoughts lingered in the shadows of her mind, haunting her, especially when she was all alone.

Will I ever see him again?

Will he be the same?

Does he truly love me?

Then, that deep, unmistakable baritone voice filled the room, and Seungwan couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over her. She had always held a special place for him in her heart, like a "Reserved" sign on a quiet table in a restaurant—a place she kept safe, hoping she wouldn't be left waiting. 

And today, her date had finally arrived. 

It was a moment she had been eagerly waiting for, yet also dreading—for Seungwan's biggest fear was losing him and being left alone once again. But she was determined to let go of her fears and embrace him with open arms.

She had worked tirelessly to elevate her love above the paralyzing clutches of fear, constantly striving to better herself so he would see her proud of the growth she had nurtured. 

Seungwan believed in miracles and held onto the belief that everyone is meant to live a life full of passion, purpose, and magic. As an idol, it was her duty to share this belief with others and spread positivity wherever she went.

As she turned around, Seungwan finally laid eyes on the one person she had been yearning for so long; her faith was finally rewarded. A warm smile spread on her face as she took in his features. In this beautiful moment, all her worries melted away, and she knew that everything would be okay with him by her side.

______________________________________________________________

It had been approximately 11 months, 12 days, and 23 hours since you last saw Son Seungwan in person. The sight of her now feels like a lightning strike, transporting you back to the moment she first captured your heart. Those full honey lips that speak words of kindness, full moon eyes that seek out the good in people, gentle hair that tumbled in such rich autumnal hues—love grew, yet she still is the same woman you fell so hard in love with.

“Wendy—”

Before you can say another word, Seungwan closes the distance between you and throws herself into your arms with a hug so tight it seems she will never let you go again. You embrace her firmly, taking a step back from the force of her impact. Your collar becomes wet with her tears as she cries out in disbelief while clinging to you. You rub her back soothingly, hoping to alleviate the flood of emotions within her.

"I am here," you repeat to her—and to reassure yourself.

A couple sniffles are heard behind you. "Girls, let's give the two some alone time," Joohyun says as she leads the girls out of the room.  

It takes a moment for Seungwan's breathing to slow. She pulls away from the side of your neck, those hypnotic brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Ow!" you suddenly cry out as a sharp pain between your shoulder blades shoots up; Seungwan's hand connects with your back.

“How could you do that to me? Making me cry in my makeup and in front of the girls. They are going to tease me to death…” Seungwan says with a pout, but her eyes beam with radiant joy. 

Using your free hand, you retrieve a handkerchief from your pocket to gently dab away the excess tears and makeup that had smudged her face—though she was beautiful regardless. When finished, you return the cloth to its place and hold her face in your hands.

Unfortunately, you could not contain the guilt that was eating you up. “I am so sorry. I didn't want you to hold on to any false hope. I needed to be sure I could stay here longer. I am so sorry–"

Seungwan's velvety lips claim yours with such passion that the weight of any apologies you carry melts away. Your body responds instinctively to her warmth, your lips dancing in perfect unison with hers. As you close your eyes, you are enveloped in a sensory symphony—the plush sensation of each kiss, her favorite fruity perfume invading your senses, and the hint of her sweet strawberry lip tint adding to the intoxicating experience. Your hands move from her face to her shoulders, pulling her closer in a warm embrace as you reacquaint yourself with the feeling of her touch. She sighs contentedly, drawing you nearer as if coaxing out more breath from your lungs.

She breaks the kiss, leaning on your forehead, catching her breath. "Don't you dare say sorry, please. You are here, and that means everything to me."

You exhale, the tension finally dissipating from your body. “Okay. Okay, I won’t.”

“How did you manage to plan all of this?” she asks as she thumbs your cheek and caresses your chin.

“A couple months worth of planning. I had to coordinate a lot with your members and manager.”

“How long are you staying?” 

"Actually… that’s the best part. I am planning to stay in Korea. Possibly for good." The words roll off your tongue effortlessly.

Seungwan's jaw drops, the words short-circuiting her mind in disbelief. "Wait… you’re not leaving?"

You smile, realizing the weight of your words. “I am here to stay.”

Seungwan snuggles into the warmth of your embrace, her laughter ringing in the room in pure disbelief and happiness. After moments of tears, this was a welcomed change, a beautiful call of joy filling the room as she hugged you tighter. Lifting her off the ground, you spin around in an impromptu dance, caught up in the euphoric moment. The realization that you can now share your life together after being apart for so long hits you both with a rush of emotion.

"Wait, did you just propose?!"

"And did you say yes?!"

"Girls! Let them have their moment!"

The rest of Red Velvet stands by the open door, Sooyoung and Yeri playfully held back by Seulgi and Joohyun. You stop and gently set Seungwan on her feet as the others eagerly await your answer. With the moment gone, you intertwine your fingers with hers, content to bask in the romantic moment amidst your friends' presence.

"Don't worry about it. We'll have plenty more opportunities," you say as you lay a gentle kiss on Seungwan's hand. She leans on your shoulder, attempting to conceal her face, not as confident yet in displays of affection in front of her group.

“Ew, too cheesy. I will let it go for now since we get to see Wendy squirm like this,” Seulgi says, holding up her phone to take some pictures. “Did you open your gift yet?” Joohyun asks Seungwan. 

You see the gift box left unopened. Letting Seungwan go, you grab the gift and hand it to her. “Go ahead! I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Seungwan unties the ribbon, allowing it to gracefully fall to the ground. She carefully removes the wrapping paper, revealing a simple black box with no distinguishing features. As she gently shakes it, a faint rattling sound can be heard from within. Intrigued, she lifts the lid, revealing a stunning silver heart necklace. You watch as she becomes enamored with the necklace, running her fingers over its texture and holding it up for a closer look. The other girls gather around her, gushing over the romantic gift.

"I know you already have almost everything, but I wanted to get you something special. Something I haven't given you before... so here it is." Your words come out slightly nervous, unintentionally giving away your feelings, but Seungwan wraps you in another warm hug.

"It's perfect. Will you put it on me?"

She turns around, lifting her hair to expose her slender neck. You take the necklace and delicately place it around her neck, securing the clasp. Turning back around, Seungwan beams at you and plays with the heart pendant hanging from the chain. It does look perfect on her.

"You look beautiful."

As Seulgi snaps a photo and the rest of the girls coo in admiration, this romantic moment is now captured in both of your memories. Your hand seeks hers again, intertwining your fingers and savoring her tender touch.

"Will you join us for dinner?" she asks.

"I wish I could, but I've got to see my grandparents tonight." You catch Seungwan's slight pout, but you squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"I know the group is busy tomorrow, so I made sure to reserve you all to myself the day after, okay?"

Seungwan glances at her group, and they nod back reassuringly. You've ensured a whole day-date, a semblance of a regular routine day with her.

"You really planned for everything. I'm so excited for our day together," she says, kissing you on the cheek.

"And thank you, girls, you've all been amazing with the planning," you acknowledge the girls.

"You better make sure not to hurt her, okay?" Joohyun threatens though the laughter that ensues indicates she's only joking.

As everyone pitches in to help the staff dismantle the decorations, you catch up with the rest of the group. Tomorrow is slated with radio promotions and another music show. Yeri teases about her solo album for next year, adding extra motivation for this comeback. Sooyoung shares updates on her dating life with Crush. Joohyun plans to focus more on acting, while Seulgi is gearing up to delve deeper into studying music production. With the tidying up almost complete, you accompany the girls to the exit.

"I'll see you in two days, okay?" You embrace Seungwan, inhaling her sweet, flowery perfume, still in disbelief that she's in your arms.

"I will. I'm so happy you're back." Seungwan places a tender kiss on your lips before joining the rest of the girls outside.

Finally, alone in the hallway, you slowly lower yourself into an empty chair, a wave of mental and emotional exhaustion washing over you from the whirlwind of the past couple of hours. As you sit there, you can't help but imagine the countless plans for your upcoming date with Seungwan—the words you want to say, the moments you want to share. 

“It’s a date.”

______________________________________________________________

“Stupid jetlag!” 

You quickly try to freshen up, one hand clutching onto your towel while the other manages a toothbrush in your mouth. The relentless jet lag caused you to sleep through the alarm. Seungwan is about to arrive, and you're not even close to being ready.

After a quick mouth rinse, you rush to your closet to look for the outfit you meticulously planned for the day. Just as you pull your shirt over your head, the doorbell chimes. 

"Hold on a sec!" you shout as loud as you can. 

As you finish adjusting your shirt and straightening your collar in the mirror, you notice a few stray hairs and quickly tame them with a comb. You double-check your pockets to make sure you have everything you need before confidently heading towards the door. But before turning the knob, you pause and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for what lies beyond. With a calm exhale, you twist the doorknob and are greeted by a breathtaking sight.

Seungwan radiates confidence in her stylish winter ensemble, a crisp white coat effortlessly draped over her figure. Underneath, an oversized black sweater and a pair of form-fitting jeans show off her curves. Her smile is infectious, lighting up her cheeks that you love to pinch. Her luscious chocolate-hued locks fall freely around her shoulders, the delicate snowflakes adorning them like jewels in a crown. Seungwan's impeccable sense of fashion only adds to her breathtaking beauty—she could make heads turn at every corner.

“It's rude to stare, love,” she playfully chides, the familiar line eliciting a smile from you.

"Sorry, I'm not used to seeing snow angels walk."

"Ugh, too cheesy and still a terrible flirt. You need to relearn my tricks," Seungwan teases, and the two of you share a warm hug, sealed with a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I could use a refresher course. Maybe with a private demonstration?"

"Now, that's a bit better," Seungwan giggles, seemingly satisfied with your response. Banter with her feels as natural as breathing.

"What was with all the noise a while ago?" she asks.

You blush, scratching your head in embarrassment. "You heard all of that? I… kinda woke up late. I was pretty excited for today."

"You are so adorable. What are we doing today anyway?" she asks, sliding her gloved hand into yours.

"Lunch out, grocery shopping after, then I cook you a nice dinner back here. We end the night with a nice movie. How does that sound?" After closing the door, you lead Seungwan by the hand, embarking on a journey towards your date.

“That sounds like a lovely day.”

Today is the dreaded Monday, marking the start of a new work week. As you board the train, you find it teeming with all sorts of individuals—from diligent students to dedicated salarymen, engrossed in the routine of their daily commutes. The air carries a palpable sense of anticipation, passengers absorbed in their smartphones, occasionally stealing glances in expectation of their respective stops. 

However, for you, Monday unfolds as a comforting embrace of normalcy. This is an opportunity for you and Seungwan to revel in the simple authenticity of being yourselves—even if it is just for today. The disguises you two have ensured you won't be recognized, allowing yourselves to go with the flow of people. To the casual observer, you and Seungwan appear as just another couple navigating their way through the ordinary rhythm of a morning commute.

“Arriving at Myeong-dong Station. Please exit on this side"

"This is our stop; let's go! Ready for some lunch?" you ask, leading Seungwan through the sea of people in search of the exit.

Emerging onto the bustling Myeong-dong Shopping Street, the air becomes an enticing medley of delectable aromas from the food vendors. Amid the crowd, you instinctively draw Seungwan closer, ensuring she doesn't get lost in the lively atmosphere. The vendors enthusiastically beckon passersbys to sample their diverse specialties. The sizzling sounds emanating from the pans awaken your appetite, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Although it's been a while since your last visit, the enchantment of this place floods you with cherished memories—and sparks the potential for new ones in the future.

"Anything in mind? You've got an endless supply of food choices." It's been more than a year since you last visited, and the place is surprisingly bustling for this time of day.

Seungwan squeals in joy, already tugging you around to explore the food stalls. "Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go!!"

You observe as Seungwan scans the vibrant street, her eyes searching for anything interesting among the colorful food stalls. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto a stall with skewers. As you both draw closer, the irresistible scent of grilled meat wafts through the air, captivating your senses. The cook applies a generous layer of butter on the hot grill before slowly placing a square Wagyu cube onto the surface. You both watch in anticipation as the meat begins to sizzle and cook to perfection, the savory aroma intensifying with each passing moment.

"How about these? They look amazing!"

Agreeing with her choice, you both approach the vendor. They greet you with a friendly smile as you pick a variety of skewers—odeng, succulent meats, and even some grilled vegetables. You grab the first of the sticks, giving one to Seungwan. Her eyes light up with delight as she chews into the beef. 

"This is so yummy! What's next?"

As you and Seungwan wander through the bustling street market, your eyes dart from one colorful food stall to the next. The sweet aroma of freshly made pancakes entices you, while spicy tteokbokki calls Seungwan from a nearby grill. You both eagerly try different dishes, laughing as you compare flavors and textures. Your stomachs eventually reach their limit, and Seungwan spots a cozy café tucked away in a quiet corner. With relief, you sink into plush chairs, relishing the memories made and the delicious treats still lingering on your tongues.

“I’m stuffed, the tteokbokki finished me,” Seungwan says as she rubs her stomach, sitting down next to you.

“That’s because you had two servings,” you tease, earning you a slap on the shoulder. 

“I can’t help it if it's my favorite snack.” 

Relaxing in the warm and inviting atmosphere of this café, you chat casually while enjoying your hot chocolate and Americano. Seungwan leans against you comfortably, and together you watch people walking by outside. The usual stress of strict managers, rabid fans, and a rigid schedule fades away as you both savor the simple joy of being in the present moment.

"Ready to move?" you ask, and Seungwan nods after sipping the last of her drink. Slipping back into the lively crowd, you guide her to the next destination—an inviting supermarket.

"Next on our agenda: grocery shopping! Any special requests for tonight's menu?" 

Seungwan ponders for a moment, her expression playfully pouting in thought. "I've been craving some spicy beef soup lately... that's not too difficult, right?"

"Not at all! We can definitely do that. The ingredients should be easy to find," you assure her with a grin.

You push a grocery cart confidently through the supermarket, starting with spices and making your way to vegetables before finishing with the crucial component: meat. Seungwan's sharp eye spots the perfect beef brisket, and you add a bottle of soju for a tasty pairing.

At the cashier, you hand over your card and notice the lingering gaze of the cashier as he inspects your name with a subtle smile on his lips. He nods at you, hinting at recognition. Seungwan looks over, also confused by the cashier's behavior.

After paying and packing up your groceries, the cashier bids farewell with a friendly wink.

"Thanks for choosing our store.”

"I always have your back!" he adds.

You're taken aback by his words—your catchphrase.

As you leave the store, a sense of comfort washes over you thanks to the subtle acknowledgment from the cashier. It's a reminder that you can make an impact, and this thought stays with you as you step back into the busy streets.

“We should take a taxi; we got a lot of stuff to carry,” you suggest. 

The clock strikes 4:00 pm. The blazing tangerine sun begins its descent, painting the cerulean sky with a stunning vermillion glow. The streets are bustling with even more people, their voices blending in a symphony of noise. After searching for a while, you finally hail a taxi to take you home. As the car navigates through the bright city lights, Seungwan rests peacefully on your shoulder. You can't help but reflect on the day that has passed—a whirlwind of emotions, shared laughter, and moments with someone who truly understands you. Though this adventure has ended, the warmth it sparked lingers, promising an intimate evening ahead.

______________________________________________________________

The keys jingle in your hand as you insert them into your front door, the metallic locks engaging as the knob turns. "Finally, home sweet home."

You place the groceries in the fridge, waiting to be used for tonight's cooking session. Beyond the kitchen lay the soft glow of the living room, ready to cradle you both in the embrace of a movie night. As the sky turned into a black carpet peppered with shining stars,  the possibility of a connection transcended the ordinary, etching the day into the tapestry of unforgettable memories.

"Hey, want to take a break before we cook?" Seungwan suggests, patting the empty space beside her on the couch.

"We?" you inquire as you settle next to her. Seungwan pulls you in, her arms encircling your waist, snuggling closer. "I don't mind the help, but today is all about you." 

Seungwan giggles, rewarding you with a quick peck on the lips.  "You're always so thoughtful, but it’s our day. Plus, how will I know you won't accidentally set the place on fire?"

"Oh, you might be surprised by how much I've improved," you counter, playfully jabbing a finger into her side and attacking her ticklish spot. Seungwan bursts into laughter, thrashing your arms.

"Wait! Enough! Okay, I trust you for later! Now hush, and let me cuddle with you a bit longer."

You both sink into the plush fabric of the couch, her body pressed against yours. The room is quiet except for the sounds of her steady breaths, which match the gentle movements of her chest. Your fingers slowly explore her smooth skin, rediscovering every inch of her porcelain complexion. In this peaceful moment, you exchange soft kisses on each other's foreheads and cheeks, occasionally lingering on each other's lips in a tender embrace.

The peace is abruptly broken by the sound of your stomach growling like a machine, making the two of you howl in laughter. 

“How are you always so hungry?” 

“I mean, we did walk around a lot today. Come on, dinner won’t cook itself.”

After washing your hands, a delightful surprise awaits as two arms lovingly snake around your waist. Turning around, you find Seungwan with a mischievous grin, playfully tying an apron around you. "Ready to showcase your cooking prowess?"

"Absolutely prepared to dazzle you with my culinary magic!" you exclaim, punctuating your words with an exaggerated twirl of your hands. Gathering the groceries from the fridge, you arrange them across the kitchen counter in a colorful display.

"Magic, huh? Well, I'm ready to be enchanted. What's our first spell?" Seungwan quips.

You slide the vegetables and the wooden chopping board over to Seungwan. "How about you work your magic with these? Chop them up while I prepare the meat."

Seungwan nods eagerly and grabs a nearby knife. She grabs a radish and skillfully chops it into uniform squares. Meanwhile, you expertly portion the meat into chunks, placing them into a generously sized pot you had readied earlier.

Amid the rhythmic chopping, you lean close to Seungwan, your warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. "You know, you're the best chef any culinary wizard could ask for."

Her cheeks blush with a delightful warmth. Seungwan steals a quick kiss on your cheek before cheekily pushing you away. "Keep those compliments coming, and I might just grant you access to a... special tasting."

“Be careful, I would do more than just taste,” you quip back, making Seungwan blush even more than the spices she is expertly mixing.

It takes a while to carefully arrange all the meat and radish into the pot. After setting the heat to medium and closing the lid, you join Seungwan in cutting up the rest of the vegetables. In the midst of the chopping, you open the fridge, retrieving the bottle of soju. You uncork it, pouring a shot for each of you. Tapping Seungwan's shoulder to grab her attention, you propose a toast.

“Let’s take a quick break before I check on the meat. What should we toast to?” you ask, raising your glass to Seungwan.

She reciprocates the gesture, intertwining her hand with yours. “To us. I still can’t believe you are here; it means the world to me. Thank you for the best surprise ever”

“To us.”

The two of you clink your glasses and then down the shot, savoring the sweet strawberry flavor swirling around your tongues and down your throats. A swift kiss on Seungwan's forehead punctuates this intimate moment before focusing back on the simmering pot. 

With practiced precision, you carefully remove any impurities from the stew and discard them in the waste can. A satisfied grin spreads across your face as you examine the perfectly cooked meat, even inserting a knife to confirm its tenderness. You add it to the bowl of spices Seungwan has meticulously prepared, and you mix everything together with care, taking turns when one of you gets tired. Once everything is well-mixed, you transfer the flavorful combination into a clean pot, turning up the heat and sealing it with a lid.

All that remains is to wait for the 15-minute timer to sound off. As you head back to the couch, you notice Seungwan making her way to your bedroom with her bag in tow.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. And no, you can't join. Not yet, anyway," Seungwan declares, followed by a playful giggle and a wink in your direction.

You stare, dumbfounded, as Seungwan gracefully removes her shirt in one fluid motion. A fleeting glimpse of her bare back adorned with a red lacy bra almost takes your breath away. But before you can fully process the sight, her discarded t-shirt is suddenly covering your face, obscuring your view. You hear the door to your room close and know she's left, but a soft laugh escapes your lips as you fold her shirt and place it on the couch. With some time alone, you browse through popular romance movies while eagerly anticipating the intimate magic that will unfold with Seungwan after her refreshing shower.

You stumble upon the perfect movie just as the alarm announces that dinner is finally ready. Swiftly turning off the TV, you make a beeline for the kitchen. Lifting the lid, you give the stew a stir before seizing a spoon to sample the creation. The spicy tang of the soup dances on your tongue, each spice contributing to a delightful symphony of flavors. The vegetables are cooked to perfection—soft and infused with the spices. You relish the rich essence of the meat, savoring its tenderness as you taste a piece.

“I heard the alarm! How does it taste?” Seungwan's voice echoes from the hallway, her footsteps drawing nearer.

“Try it yourself! You are in for a treat.”

Seungwan strolls into the kitchen, clad in an oversized black long-sleeved blouse, paired with her favorite gray sweatpants. The ensemble is simple yet exudes comfort and elegance. As she glides past you to fetch a spoon, the delightful scent of her favorite fruity shampoo lingers in your mind, causing your heart to flutter ever so slightly. Observing her tasting the soup, you witness her face light up like a Christmas tree, a radiant expression that adds warmth to the homey kitchen atmosphere.

"Wow, that Yukgaejang is delicious! Consider me charmed, my magical chef," Seungwan exclaims, accompanying her words with a high-five.

"Glad that it impressed you. Couldn't have done it without my wonderful sous chef," you respond with a grin.

"You've definitely stepped up your game! Come on, let’s set the table; I'm starving!"

Together, you and Seungwan set the table with plates and silverware for two. You carefully place the pot on a sturdy surface so that it will not damage the delicate cloth underneath. Seungwan brings over the already open bottle of soju and pours two shots. The fragrant stew is served, and you both sit at the table, ready to enjoy the fruits of your culinary collaboration.

Seungwan raises her shot glass, proposing a toast once again. “What should we give thanks for this time?”

You pause, deep in thought, while you rest your chin on your hand before coming up with an answer. “Let's toast to a successful comeback for you! I hope you get to showcase your beautiful voice even more.”

Seungwan's cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she laughs in delight at your praise. Together, you down the shot and quickly express gratitude for the food before eagerly digging in.

The meat was cooked to perfection, a tender and succulent masterpiece that effortlessly parted with every bite. The blend of spices was impeccable, offering a subtle sting that elevated the flavors and made your taste buds dance. As you sipped on the smooth soju, it complemented the meal in perfect harmony, adding a touch of warmth and depth to each dish. Your conversations with Seungwan were seamless, transitioning between updates from the fast-paced idol world to the simple nuances and joys of your everyday lives. The laughter and chatter rose and fell like a soothing melody, creating an atmosphere of comfort and closeness amidst the feast before you.

Seungwan savors the last spoonful of her soup, letting out a satisfied exhale and tenderly rubbing her stomach. "Okay, now I'm absolutely stuffed. It tasted just like Mom's cooking!"

"I've been practicing some of your favorite dishes, just in case," you confess, avoiding direct eye contact. Nervousness tingles through you as you admit this, the desire for the evening to be perfect for her evident.

"You're such a sweetheart. Thanks for remembering." Seungwan rises from her seat, dashing over to you and enveloping you in a tight, appreciative hug.

“Anything for you.” 

The two of you tidy up the remnants of dinner, carefully storing the leftovers in a Tupperware container. After placing the food in the fridge, you excuse yourself for a quick shower while Seungwan prepares for movie night. 

Under the soothing stream of hot water, you reflect on the special day spent with her. Usually, plans can fall apart, yet tonight has been nothing short of perfect. You hope there are little days like these to share with her in the busy years to come. After a brisk drying off and a quick change of clothes, you find Seungwan engrossed in her phone, a bowl of popcorn perched on the table, and the movie already queued up.

“What's the movie about?” Seungwan inquires as she cozies up to you, resting her head on your chest. Your arms envelop her waist, and your legs naturally intertwine with hers, creating an intimate embrace.

“It's called 'Nothing Serious.' So it's about two strangers who despise dating but meet through an app. Sounds cliché, but Sooyoung highly recommended it.”

"I'm a total sucker for these chick flicks! What are we waiting for?" she exclaims, eagerly reaching for the remote and clicking the play button. 

The film seemingly starts with a standard storyline: two individuals, weary of the dating scene, decide to give a dating app one last shot. Yet, what captivates you about the movie are the authentic characters and a plot that unfolds with logical precision. 

Personally, you find a connection with the male lead. The character arc, shifting from one job to another, mirrors the quest for a stable connection—echoing the cycle of moving from one relationship to the next, hoping for something enduring.

On the flip side, the female lead exudes stability but carries the baggage of a long-term relationship. Certain aspects of the character evoke thoughts of Seungwan, and you find yourself entirely absorbed in the narrative.

As the movie progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Seungwan. Her eyes are fixed on the screen, her expression a mixture of amusement and contemplation. These little moments make you realize how lucky you are to have her by your side. The warmth of her body against yours creates a sense of comfort, a feeling that makes you believe in the power of relationships.

Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself wondering about the future. Where do you see yourself and Seungwan in five years? Ten years? The possibilities seem endless, yet you can't help but feel a tinge of apprehension. Will your relationship withstand the test of time? Will you both be able to navigate the challenges that life throws your way?

But as you steal another glance at Seungwan, her eyes meet yours, and all the doubts wash away. In this moment, it's as if time stands still, and the worries about the future fade into insignificance. Today, with all its wondrous details, comes rushing back to you—the laughter shared over lunch, the gentle touch of her hand on yours during groceries, and her smile lights up the room during dinner.

Seungwan, sensing a shift in your mood, pulls away slightly and looks at you with concern etched across her face. "What's wrong?" she asks softly, her voice filled with genuine worry. 

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding to Seungwan's question. You reach out to her and gently cup her face, your thumb tracing circles on her cheek. 

"Nothing is wrong, Seungwan," you assure her, mustering a small smile. "I was just lost in my thoughts, thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life." Her expression softens as she leans into your touch, her arms slowly intertwining around you. 

"You're the one who makes me feel lucky every single day. You found a way to keep us together and found a way back to me," she whispers, her voice filled with tenderness.

"I know we've both had our fair share of ups and downs, and the future can be uncertain," you confess, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "But being here with you. Right now. In this moment, I believe we can face anything together." 

Seungwan's eyes glisten with tears. "I believe it," she replies softly. "We've weathered storms, and nothing could make me happier. We can do this. Together. For the rest of our lives."  

You sit silently for a moment, letting Seungwan's words sink in. She's right, you think to yourself. You've faced obstacles and challenges before, and you've come out stronger together. The doubts and uncertainties about the future fade as a renewed sense of hope and determination washes over you.

With every passing day, your love for each other grew powerful. You navigated through life's challenges hand in hand, supporting and encouraging one another every step of the way. Together, you inspired each other to reach for the stars and chase after your dreams.

As the movie climaxes, you and Seungwan inch closer to each other on the couch. Your eyes flicker from her luscious lips to her awaiting body, unable to decide where to focus first in this moment of intense desire. Your heartbeat thunders in you—overcharged like a thundering storm about to unleash its power. It's as if all the love and passion built up over the years together is now coursing through your veins, causing every nerve ending in your body to spark with electricity. Adrenaline surges through you, making it impossible to sit still as you feel yourself being pulled closer to Seungwan by an irresistible force. The warmth of her body seeps into your skin, making your heart race and your nerves tingle. 

Seungwan's almond-shaped eyes flicker with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability, revealing the intense emotions below the surface. They dart between your eyes, lingering on your lips with an almost palpable hunger. A glossy sheen coats her full, pouty mouth as she licks it hungrily, biting down gently with trembling anticipation. Each rise and fall of her chest is like a heavy drumbeat, her breaths coming in labored gasps that fill the air with heated tension. The deafening silence between you is only broken by the sound of her clothes rustling as her thighs rub together uncontrollably in response to her overwhelming desire for you.

Your other hand trembles as it reaches out to cup Seungwan's face, the need to touch her overwhelming. Your fingers trace every curve and angle of her jawline with aching tenderness, reveling in the softness of her skin beneath your touch. Her breath hit ever so slightly as her eyes searched yours, their depths filled with longing and desire. In this shared gaze, you find solace and reassurance—a silent understanding of all that has led to this moment. The stolen glances whispered confessions, and unspoken declarations culminated in this intense and electric connection between you both.

The flickering images on the screen were a mere background to the intense emotions coursing through the two of you. Seungwan's arms now fully enveloped you, her hold so tight it felt like your ribs might crack under the pressure. Your gaze locked with hers, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing second.

Your voice shook as you bared your heart, desire burning within you.

"I can't hold it in anymore. I need you. Right here and now."

Seungwan's lips curve into a knowing smile, and you lean in to kiss her softly. The taste of her cherry lip balm lingers on your lips as she responds eagerly, her hands tangling in your hair. The heater crackling in the background pales to the heat radiating between your bodies. You can feel Seungwan's quickened breath against your neck as you press closer, your kisses growing more urgent with each passing moment.

Without breaking the embrace, you slowly guide her back onto the plush couch cushions, your body hovering over hers. The sounds of the movie playing on TV fade away as your senses are consumed by the intensity of desire and passion between you.

Your hands explore every inch of Seungwan's body, tracing the curves and contours that have become so familiar to you. You revel in the softness of her skin, the way her body arches beneath your touch, and the way she responds to your every caress.

As your lips continue their dance, your hands find their way to the hem of Seungwan's shirt, slipping underneath the fabric and grazing over her heated flesh. A gasp escapes her lips, mingling with the soft moans that escape your own mouth. The hunger between you intensifies a raw and primal need that cannot be denied. With trembling hands, you begin to undo the buttons of her blouse, revealing the swell of her breasts and the lacy fabric of her bra. Your mouth hungrily finds its way to her collarbone, peppering kisses along the delicate curve that hits her sensitive spot that you know drives her crazy, Seungwan moaning even louder into the room.

Her hands grip your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she pulls you closer. The taste of her desire fills your mouth as your lips move from her collarbone to the exposed skin on her chest. You can feel her heart pounding against your lips, matching the rhythm of your own racing heartbeat. The room is filled with an electric energy, each touch igniting a fire within you. You feel the weight of the moment, the merging of souls and bodies in perfect harmony. Seungwan's fingers then fumble with the buttons of your shirt, a sense of urgency driving her actions.

As Seungwan unbuttons the last of your shirt, a cool breeze hits your exposed chest. You and Seungwan pause from your passionate kiss, resting your foreheads against each other. With one final kiss, Seungwan whispers, "Let's go to your room. Right now."

______________________________________________________________

Seungwan's mind is a jumbled mess of hunger and desire, the sensation swirling through her veins like wildfire. Her voice shakes with urgency, igniting a flame that had long been dormant. Without hesitation, they hurry towards the bedroom, their steps quickened by anticipation and longing.

The dimly lit room transforms into a sanctuary, a haven where time seems to stand still, allowing only the essence of the two souls to matter. The gentle radiance from the bedroom lamp creates soft shadows on the walls, casting an intimate aura over the space. Positioned at the edge of the bed, he locks eyes with Seungwan, a gaze that sends shivers down her spine in response. In this moment, there's an unspoken understanding that transcends mere physical desire. It's a culmination of emotions, a profound connection that defies verbal expression.

Seungwan moves towards him with deliberate steps, her every movement is laden with purpose and anticipation. Her hand extends, fingers trembling ever so slightly, and he responds by intertwining their fingers.

His free hand glides along the contours of her body, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Seungwan's breath catches as he leans in, his lips gently brushing against her earlobe, eliciting shivers all over her body. "I've been waiting for this moment," he whispers, his voice octaves lower.

He is typically gentle and soft-spoken, but when his voice deepens, taking on a commanding tone, Seungwan finds it irresistibly sexy when he assumes control. With assertiveness, he leads Seungwan onto the bed, where their bodies sink into the plush mattress. Their lips meet once again, but this time with an intensity born from the depths of their souls. Their tongues flick against each other in perfect rhythm, igniting the passionate fire brighter between them.

Seungwan feels his hand cup one of her breasts, eagerly kneading out the softness of her mound. She gasps as his touch sends electric currents through her body, making her break away from their kiss with a loud moan. His lips move down to her neck, nipping and sucking at her sensitive spot, causing her mind to go wild with pleasure.

As they continue to engage in foreplay, his other hand deftly unclasps her bra, releasing it from her chest. Using this opportunity, Seungwan rolls over him, straddling his lap. She takes advantage of the position, teasing him by slowly removing her bra from one arm at a time, keeping it close to her breasts. He watches with hunger in his eyes as she removes her shirt and finally lets the bra fall, revealing her ample bosom jiggling freely in the air, her warm mink nipples taut from arousal.

"And I am all yours."  

Son Seungwan is an unwavering force, her spirit forged in the fires of adversity and molded into a fierce independence that has weathered every challenge life has thrown her. She has endured and overcome every challenge that life has thrown at her—from leaving her home country to surviving a crippling injury and bearing this long-distance love—refusing to show weakness. But now, as she sits naked before him, her walls crumble like a dam, giving way to a raging river of emotion. Every fiber of her being surrenders to this moment, giving herself to him.

He captures her lips hungrily, his hands roaming over her body with a sense of urgency. His fingers brush against the swell of her breast, causing her to gasp and arch towards him. Seungwan's heart races as his mouth moves down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in its wake. She can feel herself growing wet with desire as he inches closer to her chest, his warm breath sending shivers down her body. 

Suddenly, his mouth is on one of her breasts, sucking lightly on a sensitive nub. She moans loudly, the sound echoing throughout the room. Her back arches, giving him more access to her succulent bosom as she trembles under his touch. His tongue swirls around her nipple while his fingers gently twist and pull on the other, driving her wild with pleasure. She is putty in his hands, lost in the sensations coursing through her body as he continues to worship every inch of her curves.

With a swift motion, he lifts Seungwan onto the middle of the bed, her body sinking into the soft sheets. The faint scent of vanilla lingers in the air as they embrace. He traces kisses along her stomach, causing her abs to tense and quiver under his touch. His strong hands unbutton her jeans in a skilled manner, pulling them down with ease as she raises her legs to help him. Her red lace panties cling tightly to her skin, revealing a damp spot at their center.

He moves down to her feet, peppering them with gentle kisses before trailing his lips up her legs. A shiver runs through her body as he reaches her inner thighs, his warm breath sending tingles to every nerve ending. She can't help but let out a small whimper as he presses against the fabric covering her core, feeling how wet and ready she is for him.

"Please," she begs with desperate longing in her voice, unable to wait any longer.

He quickly strips away the last remaining barrier between them, revealing Seungwan fully naked and vulnerable before him. She bites her finger nervously as she awaits his next move, anticipation building inside her.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dives in and begins his oral ministrations on her sensitive folds. Seungwan gasps loudly at the initial contact of his tongue and raises her hips to meet his eager mouth. His strong arms hold her down as he enthusiastically licks and kisses her, eliciting squirms and moans from Seungwan. She grabs the bed sheets tightly, her body responding intensely to his touch. He surprises her by sliding two fingers inside her tight warmth, causing Seungwan to clench around him and cry out in pleasure.

Feeling overwhelmed, Seungwan reaches out for his hand to help ground herself. But even with this distraction, she can't stop the overwhelming sensations building within her. With each flick of her clit, she gets closer and closer to the edge until, finally, she explodes in waves of ecstasy. He catches every drop of her release, some of it spilling onto his jaw as he hungrily laps up her juices. Her thighs grip him tightly, leaving marks with her nails digging into his hand, a pleasurable pain that only adds to their intense connection.

As Seungwan's body calms down, he continues to kiss and lick her folds for good measure. As he releases his hold on her, he moves up to kiss her body. Still riding the wave of pleasure from her orgasm, she shivers at every touch of his lips. When he reaches her face, she pulls him in for a passionate kiss, tasting herself on him and reveling in the intensity of their intimate moment together.

______________________________________________________________

"Your. Turn."

Seungwan's eyes glimmered with determination as she expressed her desire to return the favor. You eagerly lie down beside her, anticipation building in your chest as she shifts downwards towards your groin. Her hand deftly finds its way to your bulge, causing a moan to escape from your lips. Looking up at you for confirmation, Seungwan tugs on the hem of your pants. You give her a quick nod, allowing her to remove them, freeing your member from its confines. With practiced skill, she wraps her fingers around your shaft and begins to slowly pump, perfectly gauging just how much pressure and speed you like. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out deep groans and grunts as she expertly pleasures you.

"Babe, it feels… larger than last time…"

As she slips her tongue between her parted lips, Seungwan's eyes lock onto yours with a hungry intensity. You feel yourself getting stiffer as she traces delicate circles around your swollen head, her eager mouth lapping up the salty pre-cum that beads along the tip. She teases you with a soft kiss before engulfing your length in one smooth motion, sucking hard and sending electric shocks of pleasure through your entire body. The intense sensations make it difficult to catch your breath, and you can't help but moan as she works her magic on you. Your stomach clenches with every movement of her mouth, and the visual alone is enough to drive you wild, causing you to throw your head back in ecstasy.

Your lover eagerly takes more of your length into her mouth, increasing the speed and intensity of her movements with each passing second. Her tongue swirls and dances around you, creating sparks of pleasure that shoot through your body. You grip her soft, silky hair tightly in your hands, using it as leverage to guide her movements and deepen the sensation. With each downward stroke, she takes you deeper and deeper, coaxing out moans of ecstasy from deep within you. The erotic display happening between your legs is a masterpiece of passion, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring you to the edge of bliss. Your hips involuntarily buck with each skilled motion, driving you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. And when she hums softly against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine, it's all you can do to hold on as the sounds emanating from her mouth push you over the edge into pure ecstasy.

You feel the familiar tight sensation radiating from your abdomen. Not wanting to finish too soon, you gently hold Seungwan's head in place as she takes a break. When she pulls away, a spittrail is left between your member and her mouth. She resumes stroking you with one hand at a relaxed pace.

“Are you okay?” she asks, moving her hand slowly.

“You're going to drive me insane. That was incredible,” you manage to say. 

Seungwan chuckles and kisses her way back up to your lips.“You make me crazy, too. I think I'm ready.”

You and Seungwan have been intimate multiple times before, but tonight feels different. It feels like a promise come true, the culmination of years of friendship turning into love, a reward for having faith in each other. It's a reminder that there could be many more nights like this. As your bodies join together, you are bonded in every sense.

She positions herself above you, aligning her core with your length.

"I love you, Seungwan."

"And I love you too."

Seungwan lowers herself onto you, and as she takes you deep inside her, a new level of tightness envelopes your senses. Her eyes roll back in ecstasy as she reaches for your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin to hold on. You guide her down from her waist, feeling every inch of her sliding against every inch of you.

She can barely speak through the intense pleasure. "Babe...you're so...fuck...bigger..."

"Wannie… you feel even tighter..." You instinctively grip her hips, trying to hold on to some sense of control amidst the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by Seungwan's incredible tightness. She feels scorching hot, dripping wet, and tighter than ever before. It takes everything in you not to lose yourself completely. But as Seungwan sinks further onto you, pressing her body against yours with an unbreakable seal, you give in to the intense pleasure and pull her into a fierce kiss. Your shared breaths taste sweet as she hums against your lips, driving you both closer to ecstasy. With one final push, you are fully immersed inside Seungwan, lost in each other's embrace, until the world fades away into pure bliss.

After a brief moment of stillness, Seungwan leans back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She presses her hips against yours, moving in a slow and hypnotizing rhythm. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you moan and writhe in ecstasy. The bed squeaks and creaks beneath the intensity of your passion, the sounds blending with the loud slapping of skin against skin.

Your hands roam greedily over her body, exploring every curve and dip as she squirms under your touch. Seungwan's mouth falls open as she nears climax, her nails digging into your skin in pleasure. You pick up the pace, driving her closer to the edge with each thrust until she explodes in a frenzy of bliss. Her scream echoes through the room as her body trembles, and she collapses onto your chest. As she enters into her second orgasm of the night, she clings tightly to you while still trying to ride you to your own release.

You want to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, so you keep her in your arms. "Let me take charge," you whisper as you roll over and remain inside of her. Seungwan moans from the sudden change in position.

"Oh God, so deep."

You thrust into Seungwan, your pace quickening as you feel yourself surrendering to the intense desire to make love to her. She clings onto you with unbridled desperation, begging for more as she writhes beneath you in a frenzy of pleasure. You sink your teeth into her neck, leaving passionate red marks as she cries out in ecstasy. Her body shudders and quakes around you, signaling her impending release. Your movements become even more fervent, pushing deeper inside of her until your bodies are slick with sweat and burning with desire. 

The pleasure intensifies, a warm sensation spreading throughout your entire being as you try to prolong this blissful moment. Seungwan's inner walls tighten around you, her legs wrapped tightly around your waist and pulling you closer. 

In a final act of passion, she kisses you deeply as both of you reach the peak together. Your body tenses with ecstasy as you release everything inside her, marking her as yours forever. Waves of pleasure ripple through you as Seungwan's walls milk every last bit out of you, leaving her filled to the brim. You stay connected for a while, not wanting to collapse on top of her. When the throbbing finally subsides, you roll off to the side and feel the aftermath dripping onto your legs. 

The weight of the experience leaves you drained and weary, but you still manage to pull the soft blanket over the two of you, pulling Seungwan into your embrace. Her body conforms perfectly against yours as she rolls to your side, her lips pressing gently against your cheek in a sweet gesture. You can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, soothing any lingering tension or discomfort. In return, you kiss her forehead before finally succumbing to exhaustion and closing your eyes. The peaceful moment envelops both of you like a warm cocoon, protecting you from the outside world and its worries.

______________________________________________________________

A trickle of light passes through the blinds. It’s been ages since an alarm clock wasn’t necessary to start the day.

You also can’t remember the last time you felt this body ache. Every external sensation feels like a sledgehammer, pulverizing your skull as your eyes barely open. Awareness slowly kicks in, and you start remembering the events of last night.

You attempt to sit up in bed, but a weight prevents you from doing so. In your arms is the person you love, fast asleep and looking peaceful. She stirs awake and gives you a small smile. It feels surreal, but her lips on yours confirm that it's all real—she is here with you in this moment.

"Good morning, Wannie."

"Good morning, last night was...indescribably perfect." 

Perhaps this is just a part of life's journey. You meet someone and fall deeply in love, and suddenly, nothing seems too daunting or frightening anymore; every day is full of endless possibilities. Maybe we needed to go through rough patches to be stronger and more beautiful on the other side. Love can be found in the most unexpected places, shining bright even in the darkest moments. And Seungwan is proof that all of this exists, bringing light into even the bleakest situations.

"So, what's the next adventure planned for today?"

Well, it really has been a minute.

Hello everyone, and thank you so much for reaching the end of "Rekindle." If you haven't read "Ignite" yet, no worries! I designed this fic to stand on its own (though please give my debut fic a read! I love that baby so much).

It's not easy for me to say this, so I'll be straightforward: this marks the end of my writing journey.

Two years ago, I posted "Ignite" inspired by countless fan fics I had read. It was my way of expressing myself—a little bit of escapism. I needed to channel all the pent-up energy. I made wonderful friends, built confidence, got a plethora of new skills. But like any writer, I faced a lotttt of doubts and grappled with lotttsssss unfinished drafts. My writing consistency waned as mental health struggles took their toll.

I needed a break, especially because I needed to focus up on my actual life out there. I had been living too fast, too pressured. And the break did wonders to my life. As my mental health improved, so did various aspects of my life. I felt compelled to write one last fic, but only really felt ready to do one last fic. I think it was fitting I started and ended with the idol that drew me into k-pop! Sadly, my time to write is running out due to a new chapter in my life—I've landed my dream job!

I'm immensely grateful for this incredible journey as a writer. This journey made me discover a side I never thought I could do. I am confident in my writing and expressing myself in writing and in person. I owe my growth to the many friends I met here. This fic is dedicated to everyone I met, talked, and made wonderful memories with!

It's been an awfully beautiful adventure, and in the next life, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Thank you for two years of writing and unwavering support!

[promitto-amor]

When the real baby comes

King Caspian X You

Summary: When King Caspian's wife is missing one morning, Caspian sets out to track her down after hearing some surprising news. (Post the Dawn Treader)

Warnings: None! Quite fluffy!

I couldn't have jumped fictional men more than going from Mark Hoffman to Caspian, but here we are far down the rabbit hole of one of my old childhood crushes. I've never written anything for Caspian so it was time to do him justice. Plus KING Caspian just does something to me. There is soooo much potential for him!

Caspian always missed his Queen’s warmth whenever she chose to wake before him. Rolling onto his back, the left side of the bed was cold, the pillow still at a diagonal from where the Queen had slept. His hand runs over the sheet as his mind wanders to just what could have lulled his wife from Caspian’s arms. Most likely an early morning ride, but you could do that any day. Perhaps you’d gone to make breakfast as you were sometimes inclined to do. Maybe you’ll come striding in with a picnic basket, ready to invite Caspian out to the shores of Cair Paravel.

It is a Sunday after all, the one day you and Caspian always dedicate to each other. It would be nice to spend one of the last days of Autumn on the beach before it gets too cold to enjoy it.

Caspian lets the daydreams linger as he fully comes round for the day. There is still no sign of you, and so Caspian pulls back the duvet, pushes back his hair and attempts to face the day. At lease Sundays mean no holding court and there are no diplomatic guests to host this week. It’s a rare day that is entirely Caspian’s own and he intends to spend it with his wife.

There is a note left on the bedside table, that’s more like his Queen. Caspian reads it with one hand while he pulls out a dark shirt and matching pants to wear for the day.

You’ve gone out with the wolves, again? That makes it seven times in one month, which is generally excessive. What would be so important that you couldn’t wait to tell him in person?

Shrugging on boots and an overcoat, Caspian sticks his head out of the Royal Quarters, “Trufflehunter?” There’s a small cough from an armchair a short way down the corridor, near the stairs. “I know you’re there.” Caspian stands in the doorway, hands resting on his hips.

“My King,” The badger comes shuffling to greet him, dropping his head in a show of respect, “Good Morning.”

“I hope it will be,” Caspian glances behind the badger, but no one else is with him, “The Queen left me a note saying she’s out with the wolves. I know that means you’ve seen her today.”

The badger appears to be acting sheepish, “Well…yes.” He says, “You know how the Queen is, my King. There is no persuading her to wait when her mind is set on something.”

“Did she tell you what is so important that she’s out with the pack again?”

“She said she was getting in some training with the youngest cub.” Trufflehunter is fiddling with his fingers, “After all, no one has a way with the wolves like Her Majesty does.”

Caspian hand comes to rub at his face, “Yes she has mentioned that, but why does she not wish for me to join her? Don’t think I haven’t noticed she likes to go out when I’m preoccupied, or having a rest.”

“I’m certain you do so much for Narnia, that rearing wolf cubs is the last of your priorities.”

Caspian can’t quite fight back his sigh as he sags against the doorframe, “Alright time to come clean, old friend.”

The badger sputters at once, “Your Majesty?”

“What is she hiding?”

“Nothing!” But on a stern look from Caspian the badger crumbles, “If I am entirely honest with you, I don’t quite know.” Trufflehunter’s nose droops in the direction of the carpeted floor, “Her Majesty has been acting suspicious as of late. Last night Trumpkin found her ensuring her tack was prepared, most likely for today’s excursion.”

“She’s taken Tempest?” Caspain’s alarm begins to rise, “Why are they going so far as to need her horse?”

“Wolves run fast?”

Caspian’s had enough, if Trufflehunter will only give him half-answers then Caspian will go to his next source. The badger hurries after him as Caspian takes long strides towards the breakfast room. Seated at the long table, Trumpkin the Dwarf drops his toast on his beard on seeing the King’s expression, “I told her to wait for you!”

“What is she up to?” Caspian doesn’t bother with a greeting, he and Trumpkin go too far back to bother with niceties.

“You know what’s she’s like with those bloody wolves.” Trumpkin resumes buttering his toast, “Obsessed with them. I know how much she did to make the Narnians accept the wolves again after the White Witch, but they got on fine before she started hand rearing them herself. Wild animals, aren’t they, even if they do talk.”

“There’s more to this than either of you are letting on.” Caspian deduces, catching the look Trumpkin sends Trufflehunter between Caspian’s legs. He takes a measured breath, aware of the other Narnians present at the breakfast table, including Lord Bern. “My Apologies,” Caspian offers.

“A runaway Queen, dear Aslan my boy.” Lord Bern shakes his head, “Could it be something you have said or done?” Caspian thinks back, “No…I don’t think so?”

Had he, was his Queen off galavanting with her wolves because of him?

“No,” Trumpkin is quick to interject, “No, no nothing like that! She just said that she wants to practise with the littlest cub, so that she’s ready for when the real baby comes.”

Silence falls as Trumpkin’s eyes widen. His hand slaps over his mouth as Caspian’s adrenaline surges into overdrive. He looks back to Trufflehunter to find the badger too is glowering at the dwarf, “Well done.” The badger rolls his eyes, “A fine way to tell him.”

Lord Bern rises from his seat, “My King…”

Caspian’s body feels like lead, his feet trip over one another as he tears out of the breakfast hall, “Excuse me, Lord Bern!” He shouts, breaking into a run. Caspian knows he must look a stare, running through the halls of his castle, out onto the grounds and practically slamming open the stable doors.

Destrier lifted his head lazily, “What’s got you so upset?” The horse asks, watching as Caspian seizes the nearest saddle.

“We need to find the Queen.” Caspian’s voice is the one he uses when leading into battle. It’s a tone Destrier picks up on straight away, as the horse doesn’t complain when Caspian fixes his bridle in place and swiftly mounts him.

“Which way?” Destrier asks and Caspian pauses, stricken for a moment. Would you go North to Owlwood, or South near the Rush River?

If you were training a wolf cub, Caspian is certain you would want to end up near the Dancing Lawn, or perhaps pay your respects at the Stone Table? He sets off heading South and vows to ride until he finds you.

Once they are out of Cair Paravel and the surrounding villages, Destrier wrinkles his nose, “I smell wolves.” He calls, “We’re on the right track.”

“Good,” Caspian calls, pushing Destrier into a full gallop. “I hope you’re ready for quite the ride, my friend. My wife doesn’t exactly keep near the castle.”

“She’s as bad as you!” Destrier returns.

Over an hour into their ride, Caspian hasn’t seen any sight of you. Destrier continues to follows the wolves air scent, which is good enough for now. Caspian’s kept busy by the whirlwind of thoughts rattling through him. Finally, when they are almost at the Dancing Lawn, Destrier whinnies. A wolf is padding along through the grass, unable to camouflage itself amongst the crunchy Autumnal leaves. As Caspian’s eyes peer through the trees, more wolves come into sight till finally Caspian spies Tempest, your blindingly white horse walking dutifully by your side.

You’ve heard Caspian’s noisy arrival, as he slows Destrier to a stop beside you, “Caspian?” His name leaves your lips as he swings a leg off Destrier and drops onto the ground, “What on Earth are you doing following me?”

“Is it true?” He’s panting so hard he can barely get the words out. You come to a stop, one hand wrapped around a golden lead. On the other end is a snow white wolf cub, barely twelve weeks old.

“Is what true?” You ask, bewildered at the sudden appearance of your winded, sweaty husband.

Caspian glances at the wolves, who have started to inch closer to their friend. Caspian knows they would never hurt him, not since becoming friends of Narnia, but it’s still disconcerting to have your entire pack’s eyes on him. He takes you gently by the arm, “Are you pregnant?”

Caspian’s question sends a ripple through the animals. The wolf closest to the cub, one Caspian knows as Dara comes to stand by her cub on instinct, while your horse, Tempest inhales loudly beside you. Caspian cares for no one’s reaction but your own. Your mouth falls open softly, “Who told you that?”

“Trumpkin said you were out here practising.” Caspian takes your hands in his own, the cub’s lead dropping amongst the leaves. “You must know you don’t have to run from me, or feel like you can’t tell me.”

“Caspian,” You begin, but Caspian has to get it out.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it much, but I would be more joyful than-”

“Caspian.” You say laying a hand on your husbands chest. Your firm tone combined with your touch is enough to settle Caspian just to hear your answer.

Your eyes soften further, sympathy shining through as your hand runs up his chest to cup his cheek. He doesn’t expect the plummet his heart takes as Caspian can read the answer on your face, “I’m not pregnant.” You murmur, thumb stroking his stubbled cheek.

He maintains the eye contact and you don’t break it, “You’re certain?”

“We would smell if the Queen was with child.” Dara says, nosing at her own cub. “She would smell stronger.”

Your other hand takes Caspian’s own and lead him away from the pack, behind a large Hickory tree, “You came riding all this way, because you thought I was pregnant?”

“You have been out with the wolves often, I have noticed.” Caspian insists, clutching to his reasoning which seems wild now he thinks on it. “Trumpkin said you were practising for when the real baby comes.”

“Ah,” You bite the inside of your cheek, “I can see where he became confused.” You say, your tone still annoying gentle. “I am out working with the wolves, but not because I’m expecting. If I was with child Caspian, I promise you that you would be the first to know. I wouldn’t leave you clueless.”

Caspian swallows, working through the information, “Trufflehunter also seems to believe you are.”

“Those two spend most of their mornings gossiping together.” You roll your eyes, pushing some of Caspian’s unruly hair out of his eyes, “You should hear what they say about the Dryads.”

Caspian allows you to gently fuss over him. Your touch never fails to calm him as his arms wrap around your waist and his nose buries into your neck. You hold him tight and Caspian tries to push down the swell of loss he feels. You pick up on it anyway, placing a kiss to his lips, “You are the best husband I could ever ask for.” You assure him, “You rode like a madman to come track me down.”

“I had to know.” Caspian says, “I was ready to tell you off for riding.”

“Oh don’t start.” You push him away lightly, “You’d better not become a helicopter father or I’ll start getting truly sneaky.”

He catches your hand in his and pulls you back into his arms, “I’m sorry for startling you.” Caspian murmurs, “You must have thought something had happened.”

“For one horrible moment.” You nod, letting your fingers play with his hair. Caspian’s eyes slip shut, taking in your body and your warmth once again. Around him nature calls with life, the wolves padding impatiently on the ground, the rustle of leaves in the wind and the playful whispers of the trees.

“Hang on,” Caspian pulls back enough to see your face, “So if it wasn’t us, what’s the ‘real thing’ you’re practising for?”

You glance from your husband to Dara. The wolf mother nods, her cub’s lead now between her teeth. You walk over and take the offered lead back into your hand, the white wolf cub bounding along beside you as you begin to walk again. “You know I have a bit of a habit for rearing what some would call dangerous animals.”

Caspian falls into step with you, “A bit?” He jokes, “Between wolves, marsh-wiggles and sprites. If it hadn’t been trying to kill us, I’m sure you’d have jumped off the Dawn Treader and tried to befriend that Sea Serpent.”

You wrinkle your nose and with a gesture of your hand, the wolves reform their hunting formations, spreading out across the woods, “Well I might have found something that may just beat out a sea serpent.”

You lead the way for another fifteen minutes or so in the direction of Aslan’s How. A route Caspian has become less familiar with than years ago, nostalgia fills him as you tread across the open field towards the great tomb. The land still bears the odd mark of battle, craters where Caspian’s grand ambush plan had succeeded litter the once flat field and tree roots wind across some of the gaps, forming bridges one with good balance could walk across. Caspian expects you to stop near the entrance, “What are we doing here?” Caspian didn’t even know you knew of the How, never mind what this place had meant for Caspian. Sanctuary, security, victory. You hadn’t been present in Narnia when Caspian made his stand against his Uncle Miraz. Back then you had been nothing more than a legend, imprinted on the walls of the how. 

The How is continually lit by torchlight, a feat no one quite knows how or why. Caspian assumes old magic, the presence of the Great Lion himself still within the walls of such a sacred place. You venture into the narrow corridors, but you don’t head towards the Stone Table, instead you veer right. “I wanted to keep it somewhere warm, but protected.” You turn to Caspian, “You can feel the magic in the air here. Aslan still watches over.”

“Not as much as you.” For Caspian never felt as in tune with the Great Lion as his wife did. His fingers run past a mural of the Kings and Queens of Old, past a more recent mural Caspian never remembers seeing before. A White Knight faces down the White Witch’s wand. Caspian’s stomach flips as he catches the familiar hair which streams from the figure’s helmet. “It’s you,” He murmurs. “The first time you were in Narnia.”

“And the second,” You point to another mural, there you are again dressed in your signature white battle armour. This time on a parapet of the old Cair Paravel, a horn raised in one hand against the army of Trechebuchets Caspian’s ancestors had used to destroy the castle during their invasion. You don’t pay it much heed, instead you keep pressing deeper into the tomb. “I do wonder when another will show. There’s much the walls could document from our adventures at sea.”

As you come to a stop, Caspian realises the wolves haven’t followed you both inside the tomb. It’s just the King and his Queen. 

He peers over your shoulder as you kneel down before a nest of hay. He watches your hands disappear and remove an egg from the hidden hay pile. “What is that?” He breathes.

“I’m not entirely sure,” You admit, “But based on the scales and size, I have a good guess.”

Caspian stares at the egg you hold out for him. It’s the largest he has ever seen, not that Caspian has seen many eggs larger than a chickens in his lifetime. His eyes flick to yours and that sickening feeling is back, “It can’t be.”

Your eyes are dancing with excitement, “I think so.”

“No,” Caspian takes a step back, “They…The mother would never leave it.”

“I saw her.” You say, “You know there’s been more and more poachers as of late. Calormens stepping onto our lands, wanting to harvest the creatures magical properties. I saw her fly off, if she wasn’t being persecuted then she would never have left her egg.”

Caspian’s mouth drops open, “Is that what you’ve been doing?” He asks, “You’ve been out looking for a dragon?”

“That’s why I took the wolves.” You say it so simply, so easily. “They’ve been helping me track her. We think she’s near Underland.”

Caspian takes your face between his hands, “What do you plan to do when it hatches?”

You answer is evident, “Only until we can reunite the baby with it’s mother.”

“The dragon books in the library.” Caspian pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just interested in the legends. That’s all I thought they were, legends.”

“You saw Eustace as a dragon, did you not?” Sarcams fills you voice, “You know as well as I do that dragons are very much real and exist in Narnia.”

“Then why haven’t we seen them?”

You don’t have much of an answer, “Look what’s happened to the first one we have.” You say, “Hunted for her scales and goodness know what else.”

It’s your turn again to assuage your spouse. You place the egg carefully back amongst the hay pile and cover it up again, “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you have to know that I won’t let this go.”

Caspian rolls his head back in a slow circle, “No, you won’t.” He meets your eyes and barely holds back his own smile at your excitement. “But we are finding the mother and you are giving that egg to her as soon as possible.”

You nod, happy now you’ve got your way. “I’ll gladly welcome the help dispatching the poacher groups along the way too.”

“You will be the death of me.” Caspian grumbles, as you wind your arms around his waist and place a kiss to his cheek. “If I didn’t admire your heart so much, I’d leave you here in the woods where you belong.”

“You made me your Queen,” You almost sing, “You can’t get rid of me now.” You wind your arms back around Caspian’s neck, “And who’s to say that once we’ve reunited baby and mother dragon, we can’t get to work on our own baby?”

[dee-writes-smut]

FALL (Chapter Three)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY after falling down a flight of stairs, you are forced to realize that you aren't alone and that it's time to start healing.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, nosy Rhys, Amren (she's a warning), and injuries

AUTHORS NOTE I kind of hate this a lot, but here is the third part of the Season's series, Fall. Hope you enjoy! <3

Autumn descends upon the world like a tender-hearted healer, enveloping all in its embrace of warmth and renewal. The air takes on a crisp clarity, carrying with it the subtle scent of earth and fallen leaves, a fragrance that whispers of new beginnings. Trees, once adorned in the lush greens of summer, now don their autumnal attire, each leaf a masterpiece of vibrant hues—amber, crimson, and gold—painting the landscape in a tapestry of healing colors.

As daylight wanes, the sun bathes the world in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows that dance gracefully upon the earth. The breeze, gentle yet invigorating, rustles through the trees, a comforting melody that speaks of resilience and growth. With each step, fallen leaves crinkle beneath our feet, a soothing reminder of the cycle of life and the beauty found in letting go.

In the fall, nature herself undergoes a profound transformation, shedding the old to make way for the new. Trees release their leaves in a graceful dance of surrender, preparing for a period of rest and rejuvenation. Yet, even in this quietude, there is a vibrant energy that pulses through the air, a reminder that healing is not a passive act, but a journey of growth and renewal.

As I found myself immersing in the healing embrace of autumn, I was invited to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the beauty of transformation. Like the earth itself, I was reminded of my innate capacity to heal, to grow, and to emerge stronger and more vibrant than before. In the gentle caress of the autumn breeze, I found solace, strength, and the promise of new beginnings.

(Early September, House of Wind)

Morning light spilled through the windows of the House of Wind, painting the stairwell in hues of gold and amber. Each step I took down the winding staircase echoed softly, the sound muffled by the quiet of the early hour. Shadows danced along the walls, elongated and wavering, as if unsure of their own existence in the gentle glow of dawn.

As I descended, a flicker of movement caught my eye—a subtle shift in the darkness that should not have been there. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to look, dread coiling in the pit of my stomach. The shadows seemed to solidify, taking shape in the form of a figure I knew all too well. It was Lyris, his smirk cruel and taunting, his blade gleaming with malice in the dim light.

Panic surged through me, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn't real, I told myself, but the terror it invoked was. Before I could react, before I could rationalize, my foot missed the next step. There was no time to regain my balance, no wings to unfurl and catch me. I reached out desperately, fingers grasping for the banister, but it was too late.

The world tilted violently as I fell, the sharp pain of impact shooting up my spine as I collided with the unforgiving stairs. Each jolt sent waves of agony coursing through me, my body bouncing helplessly until I finally came to a crumpled stop at the bottom of the staircase. Dazed and disoriented, I tried to gather my bearings, the pain a sharp, throbbing ache in every limb.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder with each passing second. Then, Azriel was there, his face a mask of concern as he knelt beside me. "Don't move," he said softly, his hands hovering over me with a hesitant touch. "We need to get you to the healer."

"I'm okay," I lied, attempting to push myself up despite the searing pain that shot through me. The room spun sickeningly, and I winced, sinking back down with a pained gasp.

"No, you're not," Azriel insisted, his voice firm but gentle. He assessed me quickly, his expression grave. "We need to get you off these stairs. Can you stand?"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, frustration and pain mingling into a bitter concoction. "I don't… I can't…" I faltered, unable to voice the depth of my vulnerability.

"It's okay. I've got you." Azriel's arms enveloped me, lifting me gently from the cold, hard floor. I buried my face against his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat amidst the chaos of my own.

As we moved, the memory of the fall replayed in my mind—the hallucination of Lyris, the terror of losing my footing. I had lost more than just my wings that day; I had lost a piece of myself. How was I supposed to heal when my own mind betrayed me with such vivid, haunting illusions?

Azriel's presence was a silent promise of protection, his concern a soothing balm to my fractured psyche. I clung to it, to him, as we made our way to the healer's chambers, the shadows of the stairwell receding into the background as we stepped into the light of a new day. I would allow myself to let him seep in my darkness for a moment. I would be selfish for just this moment and then it would be back to struggling alone, to protecting them, him.

Madja's room was filled with the subtle scent of lavender and sage, a calming ambiance that did little to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. The healer's hands were warm and gentle as she applied salves to the bruises that marbled my skin, her touch careful around the tender areas where my wings once were.

"You're healing well physically," Madja said softly, her voice soothing. "But healing the mind… that takes time, and often more than just my skills." She offered me a small, understanding smile, though her eyes were stern, hinting at the depth of her concern.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, shadows swirling slightly at his feet—a sure sign of his inner turmoil. Madja excused herself with a knowing look, leaving us alone.

I shifted on the cot, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I faced him. "Azriel," I began, but my voice cracked, betraying my nervousness.

He moved closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. Stopping at the edge of the cot, he knelt so he was eye level with me, his gaze intense. "I've been patient," he said, his voice low and strained. "I've given you space, but we can't keep avoiding this conversation."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. "I don't know if I'm ready," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel reached out, his hand hesitating in the air before gently brushing a stray hair back from my face. "I know you're hurting. And I know I can't understand everything you're going through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to go through this alone."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away furiously. "It's not just the pain, Azriel. It's the fear," I confessed, the words tumbling out. "Every shadow, every noise—it takes me back to that moment. And I feel so powerless."

His expression softened, the shadows receding slightly as if in response to my distress. "I wish I could take that fear away," he murmured. "But since I can't, I'll stand with you against it. Every step of the way, until you feel strong again."

"How do you do it?" I asked, searching his face. "How do you live with your own shadows?"

A sad smile tugged at his lips. "By knowing which shadows are mine to control, and which are simply part of the world. And by having people I love to light the way when it gets too dark."

"What if I'm not strong enough?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. Despite my efforts to steel myself against the pain, I couldn't help but curl into myself, feeling small and vulnerable in the face of my own fears. "What if I never get over this and—" I choked back my tears once more, the fear gnawing at my insides too overwhelming to voice aloud.

Azriel's heart clenched at my words, the rawness of my pain mirroring his own. With aching tenderness, he reached out, his hand hovering over mine, a silent beacon of comfort in the darkness. "You are strong," he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. "Stronger than you realize. But even the strongest among us have moments of doubt, moments when the weight of the world feels too heavy to bear."

My eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, sought solace in his unwavering gaze. "And if you never get over this… if the shadows linger longer than you'd like, know that you are not alone. We'll face them together, every step of the way."

The weight of my fear trembled through my shoulders; the depth of my anguish palpable in the air. "But what if I pull you all into it too?" I whispered, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "What if my darkness becomes yours?"

Azriel's heart ached at the thought, but he refused to let me drown in my despair. "Your darkness is not a burden," he said, his voice steady, unwavering. "It's a part of you, just as much as your light. And I would walk through the darkest of nights if it meant I could stand beside you."

He reached for my hand, his touch gentle yet firm, anchoring me to the present moment. "Let me help you carry this weight," he urged, his eyes locking with mine. "Let us carry it together."

For a moment, there was only silence—a heavy, pregnant pause that hung between us, charged with unspoken emotions. And then, with a shaky breath, I nodded, my grip tightening around his hand as if anchoring myself to his steadfast presence.

In that moment, as we sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Madja's room, surrounded by the gentle scent of herbs and healing, Azriel felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. No matter how dark the path ahead, no matter how daunting the shadows that loomed on the horizon, we would face them together. And with love as our guiding light, we would find our way back to the warmth of the sun.

(Mid-October, River House)

The air in the room seemed to hold its breath as I gathered the courage to speak, surrounded by the Inner Circle whose presence felt both comforting and daunting. Cassian's warm gaze, Nesta's softened expression, Rhys and Feyre's silent solidarity, Amren's unreadable yet somehow reassuring presence, and Mor's gentle smile—all of them were a testament to the depth of their care.

With Azriel standing at my side, his silent support a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions, I began to speak. My voice, though laced with uncertainty, carried the weight of my sincerity as I addressed them.

"I want to apologize," I began, each word heavy with meaning as I met their eyes, one by one. "For the distance I've kept, for the walls I've built around myself. I've been… cold, and for that, I'm truly sorry.

A hushed tension hung in the air, anticipation mingling with apprehension as they waited for me to continue. But instead of judgment or reproach, I found only understanding in their expressions—compassion and empathy reflected in their unwavering gazes.

"I'm ready to try," I confessed, the admission a revelation in itself. "To try again.. To heal."

Cassian's hand found mine, his touch grounding and reassuring as he squeezed gently. "We're here for you," he declared, his voice a solemn vow. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

Nesta's usually sharp gaze softened, her features etched with genuine concern. "We've missed you," she admitted, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability. "But we understand. And we'll stand by you, no matter what."

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a silent glance, their unity a beacon of strength amidst the uncertainty. "You're not alone," Rhys affirmed, his voice steady and resolute. "We'll face this together, as a family."

Amren nodded curtly, her demeanor as inscrutable as ever, yet there was a glimmer of warmth in her eyes that spoke volumes. "Don't make a habit of apologizing," she quipped dryly, a subtle reassurance in her words.

Mor's smile was gentle, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf me. "We love you," she said simply, her words a promise of unwavering support.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I absorbed their words, the weight of their acceptance washing over me like a tidal wave. In that moment, surrounded by the love and understanding of my chosen family, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for me yet.

With Azriel's hand firmly clasped in mine, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the arduous journey ahead. It wouldn't be easy, and the road to recovery would be fraught with challenges. But with the unwavering support of those who loved me, I knew I could face whatever lay ahead.

Night after night, the nightmares clawed their way into my sleep, tearing through the fragile fabric of my dreams with merciless intensity. Each time, I would wake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in my chest, lungs gasping for air as if I'd been drowning in the darkness of my own mind.

Azriel had been there from the beginning, his quiet presence a steadfast anchor in the storm of my nightmares. At first, he would come at the sound of my screams, offering comfort and reassurance until the tremors subsided and sleep reclaimed me once more. But as the nights stretched on and the nightmares showed no signs of abating, his visits became more frequent, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-shifting landscape of my dreams.

I would wake to find him sitting beside my bed, his gaze watchful and protective as he kept vigil over my troubled sleep. His presence was a balm to my fractured mind, a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume me.

At first, I protested his presence, insisting that he had better things to do than waste his nights sitting by my bedside. But he brushed off my protests with a quiet determination, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that spoke volumes. He didn't need words to convey the truth—that he would stay for as long as I needed him, no matter the cost.

And so, night after night, I would wake to find him there, his presence a silent reassurance that I was not alone in my suffering. With each passing night, his visits became longer, his presence more palpable until it felt as though he had practically moved into my room.

I would wake to the soft sound of his breathing, the warmth of his presence a comforting weight beside me. His steady heartbeat echoed in the silence of the night, a rhythmic cadence that anchored me to the present moment.

In those quiet hours before dawn, with the weight of his presence beside me, I found solace in the knowledge that I was not alone. No matter how dark the night, no matter how terrifying the nightmares that plagued my sleep, Azriel was there, a silent guardian watching over me until the first light of dawn chased the shadows away. And for that, I was endlessly grateful.

(Late October, River House)

As Azriel sat across from Rhysand, the weight of the conversation about you felt even heavier upon his shoulders. His mind flickered back to the recent events—the trauma you had endured, the pain etched into your every expression, and the way you had leaned on him for support during your darkest moments.

"I've noticed the way you look at her, Az," Rhys's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "And I can't help but wonder… Are you two… a thing?"

Azriel's gaze softened with a mix of fondness and concern as he thought of you. "I… I care about her deeply," he confessed quietly, his voice tinged with emotion. "Especially now, after everything she's been through."

Rhys nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. "I know you've been by her side through it all, Az. And I'm grateful for that. How is she holding up?"

The concern in Rhys's voice mirrored Azriel's own worries. Your recovery had been slow and arduous, marked by moments of progress followed by setbacks. Azriel had been there every step of the way, offering his support and comfort whenever you needed it most.

"She's… she's trying her best," Azriel replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the kidnapping still weighs heavily on her. Some days are better than others."

Rhys reached out a hand, placing it reassuringly on Azriel's shoulder. "You're doing everything you can for her, Az. And she knows that. Just keep being there for her, okay?"

Azriel nodded, gratitude swelling within him for Rhys's words of encouragement. Despite the challenges they faced, he was determined to stand by your side, offering you whatever solace and support he could provide.

As they parted ways, Azriel's thoughts remained with you—the strength you had shown in the face of adversity, the resilience that burned bright within you. And though he knew that your path to recovery would be a long and difficult one, he vowed to walk it with you every step of the way, for you had become more than just someone he cared about—you were his guiding light in the darkness, his reason to hope for a brighter tomorrow.

(Late November, Velaris)

Stepping beyond the familiar walls of the House of Wind felt like a liberation, a triumph over the shadows that had threatened to consume me. As I walked alongside Feyre and Mor, the streets of Velaris buzzed with life, each step forward a testament to the strength I had found within myself.

Beside me, Azriel's concern was evident, his worry etched in the furrow of his brow and the gentle pressure of his hand in mine. But this time, I was determined to show him—and myself—that I was stronger than the nightmares that haunted me.

"Don't worry, Az," I said with a reassuring smile, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for this. Feyre and Mor are with me."

Feyre and Mor nodded in agreement; their expressions filled with confidence. "We've got your back," Feyre said with a reassuring smile. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Their words filled me with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that I wasn't alone in this journey. With their support, I felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As we walked through the bustling streets of Velaris, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through me. The sun warmed my skin, the wind tousled my hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt truly alive.

But amidst the excitement, a part of me couldn't shake the worry that lingered in Azriel's eyes. I knew he cared about me deeply, and the thought of causing him any more pain weighed heavily on my heart.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked quietly, his concern palpable. "We can turn back if you're not feeling well."

I met his gaze with determination, my resolve unwavering. "I'm more than ready, Az," I replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I've spent too long hiding away. It's time for me to start living again."

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[soobnny]

meet odd — han jisung.

trope. acquaintances to lovers. college au. u live in the same apartment floor. fluff.

synopsis. you get to know han jisung under strange circumstances or alternatively “we live in the same floor and the room between ours always has really loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at 2am… do you want this last bit of ice cream?”

word count. 2.3k

warnings. mentions of sex (from the apartment neighbor), cursing

note. hello hello! another skz fic hihi send an ask if u wanna be added to my skz perma taglist :’) i hope u enjoy this silly little story

part 2

There are a lot of things you love about your apartment – the free water and electricity bill, how it's walking distance from your school, the really cold study lounge, and the cat that frequents your small balcony.

For its price, you really couldn’t ask for anything more. The cheap monthly pay goes perfectly with your very strict budget as a broke college student. So, truly, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Actually, maybe you could.

Within all the great qualities your apartment has to offer, there lies one really, really big setback. The apartment right next to yours and your painfully thin walls. The amount of times it has fucked you up in the head after a long day of classes and exams are immeasurable.

Cue the soft banging of your head against your wall and the pillow around your ears to block out the noises, serene smiling as you greet her the next day as you walk out of the apartment together to head to your early morning classes.

The months before she moved, your apartment had been the safest haven to retreat to – where you could stare at the ceiling after a long day, finish your school work quietly before getting comfortable in your bed, and rewatch a show you’d seen a million times before sleeping to prepare for another battle in your university.

Now, your armor is faltering, and the number of hours of your sleep is decreasing gradually fast. Each night was just repetitive banging of her bed’s headboard against the wall between your apartment rooms and obnoxious moans.

You honestly wouldn’t have minded if they weren’t so fucking loud about it.

And if they didn’t go at it until the crack of dawn.

You hate to be told to be grateful. There’s a clear border for when you’re valid to feel frustration over your situation – when you’re allowed to be ungrateful for the downcast of your neighbor in your life.

Because of your predicament, you’ve found multiple alternatives to aid you in overcoming this temporary challenge. There’s a pair of noise canceling headphones on your nightstand that you begrudgingly used your savings up on to purchase, and you’d been a constant visitor in Seungmin’s dorms.

However, you can only go for so long before you start displaying lower back pains from Seungmin’s old and fucked up couch. His roommate, Jeongin, doesn’t help much either when he enjoys talking your ears off as he does anything but study for his classes.

This is what your new living situation is like. You live off Seungmin’s dying couch and the random stabs of pain on your lower back, your apartment neighbor having the time of her life, and the newly formed bags under your eyes.

You’ve definitely thought about marching up to her room and talking to her about it. But what the hell were you supposed to say? It isn’t exactly the easiest thing to confront people about their sex life.

That’s how you find yourself retreating from your apartment at the ass crack of dawn to sit at the main lounge for a bit, defeated with slumped shoulders and heavy eyes.

They can’t go on for much longer, right? You just had to wait at the main lounge for a few more minutes and you could go back to the comfort of your own bed.

“Good morning.” There’s laughter in the voice of the only other person lounging on the couches of your lobby, legs crossed with a tub of ice cream in his hands.

You recognize him as Han Jisung – the other apartment situated right next to your sex addict neighbor. You’ve only really seen him a few times, in the elevator, leaving for the gym as you come back from school, and you’ve only really shared a brief exchange of hi’s and hello’s. Seeing him in a hoodie and sweatpants with glasses on has your stomach doing a summersault.

He is so painfully handsome, jumping straight out of his hot-boy-with-humor trope.

As soon as your eyes meet, the two of you laugh so loudly and so hysterically. You just know. You know why he’s here at 2am with his tub of ice cream. He’s at the main lounge for the exact same reason you are, and something about that feels so humanizing and funny to you.

There’s a shared understanding in your crinkled eyes and cracked smiles and heavy panting from laughing too hard at your predicament. You don’t care that you look crazy with your messy hair from tossing and turning from your bed all night. Nothing looks or sounds crazy to Jisung.

He’s scooting over the couch to leave the space next to him for you, his hand dropping down to pat the spot so you can sit right next to him.

You’re quick to walk over and sit next to him, and he gives you a smile, fingers drumming over the arm of the sofa with his thigh pressed up against yours slightly that makes your heart beat erratically.

“Want some?” His round boba eyes look at yours as he nudges the tub of ice cream in front of you, twisting his body so he can face you better.

The scent of his cologne is holding you ransom.

None of this feels real, but you swear you can’t be making this shit up. You can’t be making up pretty Han Jisung with his slightly long and a bit disheveled hair and his puffed out cheeks as he chews on his ice cream.

Staring down at his offer, you go over your choices. Although, when someone offers up free ice cream at 2am when you need comfort the most, you don’t think there’s really a need to go over your invisible choices. There’s an obvious answer – the one you take as you grab a spoonful of his ice cream and stuff it in your mouth.

You close your eyes at the cold sensation, a smile creeping up on your face instantly. You’re the happiest you’ve been today already, in this moment, eating ice cream with the boy with worn out converse and the sweetest laugh.

“How have you been coping?”

Jisung knows exactly what you’re talking about, and he finds it hilarious how you’re labeling his response to your shared neighbor as ‘coping mechanisms’. His lips twitch up as he rolls his head back to rest on the cushions.

“You can only go so far with noise canceling headphones.”

“I know right!” Your face lights up as you take another spoonful of ice cream, nodding your head in agreement.

“I tried staying with a friend for a bit, but I’m tired of living off protein shakes and cuddling on the same bed. A double sized bed cannot fit me and Changbin.” He shivers as he recounts his experiences with the boy.

“Changbin as in Seo Changbin from the Music and Performing Arts department?”

“Yeah! Binnie! How do you know him?” Your question makes the smile on his face brighter.

“My friend Seungmin knows him. I’m definitely telling him you shaded his love for protein shakes and that you hate cuddling with him.”

“I don’t hate cuddling with him!” Jisung defends himself, shaking his head aggressively. “I would cuddle with him on a bigger bed.”

“Dude…” He laughs.

Something about how he has experienced the same struggles you have is a little haunting, but also comforting. To know you’re not the only one who has gone through the mockery of begging to stay at a friend’s or purchasing those stupid overpriced headphones.

“Wanna… uh, nevermind.”

“Hm?”

Jisung isn’t the most straightforward person in the world, but something about the way you’re looking at him with wide, curious eyes is intoxicating, and it gives him enough courage to continue talking.

Clearing his throat, he repeats. “Wanna go out for a bit?”

Han Jisung’s voice is very deep and very convincing at 2 in the morning.

“They’re not gonna be done soon?”

He studies your hopeful features and pats your shoulder in comfort. “I don’t wanna ruin your small ray of hope, but they were going at it until 4am last night.”

Grimacing, you drop your head in defeat. “If that’s the case, then let’s go.”

That’s how you find yourselves at a creepy, run-down convenience store near your apartment, purchasing more ice cream and looking through the stalls for anything to buy.

“Hey, Hannie!” You call out to him at the back of the store, and he comes padding over with a splash of giddiness in his heart at the nickname you give him.

His friends have called him that a million times, but it sounds different coming from you. It sounds so natural, like you were always meant to say it.

He bites down his lip to prevent himself from smiling further. His heart flutters at the possibility of you being a constant in his life. Hannie, Hannie, Hannie. It slips out of your mouth so easily that he wonders if the universe purposely gave you two that neighbor for this specific moment.

For him to meet you at the main lounge and invite you to the convenience store (and into his life in the process).

Is this what those stupid male leads feel like in those romantic comedies he binge watched with Changbin?

Jisung used to think it was absolutely ridiculous to meet someone and form an entire life with them in their head, but he finds himself doing the same in all his hypocrisy.

When he arrives to where you’re standing, he watches in amusement as you spend the next few minutes trying your hand at a run-down claw machine – desperately aiming for the pompompurin keychain.

First, you play with eyes of determination and careful movements, and then you’re smashing at the buttons in frustration.

Pretty, he thinks.

He can’t help but swoon at the sight of you with an oversized hoodie, smashing at the claw machine with your eyes half open and your lips pouted in defeat.

“Want me to try?”

You’re aware that claw machines were always faulty and deceiving, but you allow Jisung to try and win the keychain that’s probably cheaper to buy than the amount of money you’ve inserted in the coin slot to play the game.

With the plastic bag of ice cream and candy on his left hand, he uses his right hand to control the stick so he can angle the claw the way he needs it. Leaning forward, he focuses on getting the keychain you’ve been aiming for, pressing the red button after a few seconds of pushing it around.

His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the claw land exactly where he needs it to be, and he sneaks a glance at your anticipating face – heart speeding up at the sight.

“Oh my god. And you got the one I wanted?!” Jisung crouches down to grab the keychain from the prize slot before handing it to you and it immediately finds its home on the zipper of your wallet.

He has a proud smile on his face when he sees you hugging your wallet to your chest with a newfound happiness brightening your features. Even the convenience store lady is impressed at how he was able to get anything from that claw machine at all.

Maybe that’s what the graveyard shift does to you. It tires you out so much that you find someone winning at the claw machine game fun.

With an ice popsicle on your hand and your wallet with your new favorite keychain on the other, you and Jisung start to make your way back to your apartment. It was getting late, and they have to be done by now.

There’s a few moments of peace before you hear Jisung audibly trying to suppress his laughter. He’s trying not to giggle, and you know exactly why.

Your jaw drops, hitting him on his upper arm before sulking.

He doesn’t even need to tell you for you to know he’s laughing at your ice cream eating skills (your popsicle’s already melting and you’ve desperately been trying to finish it before it dissipates for the past few seconds).

There’s a taunting smile on his face as he apologizes. “I’m sorryyy.” He drawls the last syllable, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“You just look so cute.”

Something ricochets in your stomach the moment he says that, and you really hope he can’t hear your heart racing over his obnoxious giggling.

Jisung doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that aloud. He’s also hoping the streetlights are dim enough for you not to notice the redness on the tip of his ears.

When you arrive, you immediately recognize the boy hurriedly rushing out of the apartment as your neighbor’s boyfriend. And when he speeds past the pair of you with a sheepish and shy smile on his face, you immediately make eye contact with Jisung.

Another fit of laughter breaks out.

And as you laugh and giggle over the poor boy’s obvious embarrassment, your eyes drift over towards Jisung, your newfound friend and how his eyes glint with genuine happiness and how he feels so comfortable to be with.

Similarly, Jisung finds himself mirroring your gaze. Somehow, he feels that starting today, things are definitely going to change between the two of you and the possible shift of your interactions into something more constant makes his heart flutter.

Before today, Han Jisung was just another boy who lived on the same floor as you, who you shared a few small pleasantries with. However, as the pair of you walk back to your rooms with your plastic bags of popsicle and candy wrappers and the hint of laughter still bubbling in your throats, you can tell that this moment right now with him feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

You hate to be told to be grateful, but in the stupidity of your own reflection, you are. For what – you’re starting to think it has something to do with the boy next to you.

[mahoushojo-chan]

Astarion x Tav || bed sharing

one forever won't be enough

synopsis: it's a habit they picked up from travelling together. every so often, astarion came to tav at night. it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even if he'd really rather not admit it. instead of lying in his old bunk, astarion chooses not to be alone.

an excerpt of "'cause my love (is mine, all mine)"

word count: 1203

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bed sharing, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, late night conversations, friends to lovers, song inspo: where do i begin by Egg

ao3: here

concept: bed sharing

At night, Astarion lies in his old bunk. It’s rough, grating, and it creaks every time he shifts, and he’s pretty sure he couldn’t enter trance even if he tried. It’s telling that he would rather lay on a bedroll laid over hard rock than ‘his’ own bed, but the last time he laid in this bed, he was still a slave. Just Cazador’s spawn.

Somehow, it feels even emptier than back then. He doesn't have Petras sleeping in the top bunk, snoring loud enough for him to kick the mattress above. He doesn't have Dalyria in the bunk beside him, hiding a light underneath her sheets while she dove her research into the next topic. There isn't Leon in the corner, whispering sweet comforts to his little girl, Victoria. It’s too quiet all on his own.

Then, even with his new companions, he can't hear Gale patronizing Wyll about this or that kind of magic, he can't hear Karlach playing with Scratch or the Owlbear, and there is no occasional thump of Lae’zel’s late-night training. He had gotten used to all of it as some kind of white noise for the next dawn.

Besides, he thinks, he should get used to his nocturnal schedule again, so staying awake wouldn’t be too bad. It would keep the nightmares away, at least. He had enough of Cazador. He thinks of Tav, who he hopes is sleeping peacefully away.

In the dark, he has to confront the reality that he and Tav are worlds apart. He wonders if she’ll be able to adapt to this schedule.

The door to the Favoured Spawn room opens, the room that Tav had taken, with a quiet creak that only Astarion would hear. Then, the mattress dips, and a hesitant arm wraps around her waist and pulls Tav in as someone nestles in close.

“Mm… still awake, Star?” She mutters, though he’s more surprised to hear that she’s still awake.

“Yes.” Astarion replies in a whisper, because it feels like the night calls for whispers, even when the entire palace is empty.

It’s a habit they picked up from travelling together. Every so often, Astarion came to Tav to sleep. Tav knows that it first started after he first drank from her and she found herself exhausted enough to slip unconscious; but it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even though he’d really rather not admit it. Tav thought it would end after Astarion made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she decided to be friends, rather than lovers. It seemed to be what he needed at the time, but she also knows that this—whatever this is, lying in bed together, in the dark, holding each other and whispering—isn’t really something friends do. Astarion has never had any friends, but even he suspects this is something that is beyond friendship.

But this isn’t sexual, either. He can't think of a single conquest who he had done this with because this felt too vulnerable. This felt like a different reality, reframing what it meant to find comfort in the dark.

With a sigh, Tav turns around to face Astarion. He sees her eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, and he brushes some hair out of her face. It’s never as awkward as it should be.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to face them.” Astarion whispers, truthful and defeated, because holding Tav in the darkness brings about a whole different world around him; one where he can tell Tav anything.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Star.” She says, and it does something to his chest when she whispers his nickname in that tone, with that softness of sleep tinging her voice.

Astarion huffs out a whisper of a laugh. “I do want to. They’re… something like family, after all. They’re the closest thing I have to love.”

“I love you,” she protests, her voice still quiet. He knows this is not what friends do. They are in bed holding each other, now declaring love for each other, in the comfort of darkness. Astarion has never had anyone he had been this intimate with, even in the throes of passion, and he feels that he should think more about what this means.

“Fine, then. They’re the closest thing, other than you.” He drawls affectionately, feeling a tug at his lips even as he rolls his eyes. “But still, they’re not like you. I’m not like you. I can’t be good like you, and I’m afraid they know that. It feels like I’ll have to solve all of this world’s problems to be worthy of forgiveness, and even then, they would be right not to give it to me. They might never forgive me.”

“Then they’d be fools, the lot of them.” She says, and though she still sounds asleep, her eyes look at him with a sincerity he knows. If there’s one consistency about Tav’s behaviour, it’s that she has no patience for fools, and he can’t help but laugh.

A silence passes through them for a moment. “Do you think I’m evil?”

“No.” She says. “Even I’m not nearly as good as you think I am. Out of the two of us, you’re far more special. You make me think anything is possible.”

It’s odd because he can imagine saying the exact same thing to her. He wonders if she was just reading his thoughts and saying the words out loud, and if it was some sort of byproduct left by the mind-reading tadpole. But then again, he can’t at all understand why she would think he was special, and if they did still have the tadpoles, he would wish to see himself through her eyes. He wants to see what she sees in him—this brave, dashing, kind, supportive, heroic man, capable of love and goodness.

He wonders what would happen if he kissed her. 

Not that he was particularly sexually attracted to her, though he admits that objectively, she is attractive. He has a working pair of eyes and a good sense of taste, after all. And honestly, he doesn’t even know if she’s attracted to him—he thinks she might be, because Astarion hadn’t met many people who weren’t, but she also never asked him for anything sexual. Even their first night together, he always wondered if she had truly wanted it, or if he was just taking advantage of their desperate, life-or-death situation. All her intimacy seemed strictly… well, not exactly platonic, but not sexual, either. And it didn’t feel quite romantic, either.

But he wonders what she would do. What might she see? What might she feel?

He compromises by resting the crown of his head on hers, and quietly, he whispers, “Thank you for loving me.”

“Of course I would.” She replies, sounding fond, before closing her eyes. He can tell that sleep is about to take her again as she sighs, “Don’t worry about who you think you’ve got to be. Just be Astarion. It’s good enough.”

Her breaths even out, and he does his best to match her, taking in the air she exhales. He runs fingers through her hair again as she drifts to sleep.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Cinderella Doesn’t Believe in Fairytales (pt. 1)

Summary: Cinderella is too old for fairytales. But when one is her only chance at escape, she may have to start believing again. TW: child abuse, child neglect

------------------------------

Once upon a time in a land far away, a girl lived with her stepmother and her two stepsisters. Though they were a family, the girl had to do all the chores so as not to overtire her new family. She rose at dawn everyday--

It starts like this:

Cinderella’s parents teach her to love with open hands. It’s in the way her mother sets aside the watering can the moment her father’s carriage rolls past the gate. It’s in the way her father peels the last bills of their family’s fortunes from his billfold and hands them to the doctor. When Cinderella starts stepping on ants in the garden, upset that they’d made a butterfly their meal, it’s in the way her mother tells her to let them take the wings, the antennae, the body.

It’s in the way Cinderella is given the duty of mopping her mother’s clammy brow, barely eight-years-old and smelling death in the air.

“Everything,” her mother wheezes, “everything will be okay.”

They are strange last words. Cinderella ponders them as her mother’s face pales and each breath comes more and more labored. Did that mean her mother was going to be okay? Did it mean her father would come back from his merchant trip soon? Or was it something bigger than Cinderella could yet understand?

“It doesn’t feel okay,” Cinderella whispers. She feels empty inside. The doctor left even when she begged him to stay. Nothing more to do, your father will understand. She squeezes her mother’s hand with both of hers. “Nothing feels okay.”

“Okay takes time,” her mother says. Her eyes are fever bright but she squints through the collapse of her own body to make eye contact with her daughter. Her colorless lips form a tremulous smile. “Be patient, darling. Be kind and everything will be okay.”

Cindrella has been lying awake for long nights, promising the world too many things. She promised she wouldn’t step on the ants in the garden anymore, not even by accident. She promised she would rake the leaves from around the oak tree without being asked. She promised to only think nice thoughts from now on, even when her father went on trips with no end dates and her mother stared out the window for hours on end. She promised so many things in the hopes that one of those promises contained the magic words that would save her mom.

Cinderella watches the breath rattle out of her mother for the last time. The hand she holds between her own cools. A wind with the bite of winter rolls through the window, making the bedcurtains shiver.

Okay takes time.

Cinderella waits for one of two things to rise. The sun or her mother.

The sun wins.

---------------.

Stepmother and her daughters move in too quickly after that. Cinderella doesn’t remember when her father brought them home. Was it the day he found her in the master bedroom? Or was it weeks later when Cinderella could finally tear herself away from staring out the window?

“This is your new mother,” her father says. He kneels in front of Cinderella and cups her cheek with one broad hand. He scans her with worried eyes. “Okay? We’ll be a family now.”

Cinderella wants to scream. Her fingers tangle in the front of her dress and her toes dig into the ground through her shoes. She keeps thinking of her mother’s hand in hers. And now she has a new one?

“Cinderella,” her father says. He squeezes her shoulder with his other hand. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she says. Her eyes dart to her stepmother standing behind her father. “I-it may take some t-time, but…”

“And we will have time,” Stepmother says. Her voice is the very opposite of her mother’s, high and lilting where her mother’s voice was low and round. She smiles at Cinderella. “Thank you, my dear.”

“We will be a family,” her father says. He stands so he can wrap one arm around Stepmother. He puts his hand on top of Cinderella’s head. “A very loving family.”

------------.

A very loving family.

Things are taken from Cinderella slowly. A pretty ribbon goes to Drizella when Stepmother notices her daughter’s envious stare. Her room is given to her stepsisters’ governess when she’s eleven. A textbook goes to Anastasia when her governess runs out of material to teach.

“Father,” Cinderella says from the door of her father’s study. She’s embarrassed that her ankles are showing from under her dress, the sleeves falling short of her wrists, her golden hair knotted on one side of her head. She’d only learned of her father’s homecoming an hour ago when Anastasia called for him too loudly. “May I speak to you?”

Her father doesn’t look up from the reports in front of him. He mutters as he runs numbers over and over and over again, scratching each calculation out with the quill Cinderella gave him last year. The sight of the quill gives Cinderella comfort.

He loves me still, Cinderella thinks as she waits for his attention. She’s too old to tangle her fingers in her dress now, or so she’s learned from eavesdropping on her stepsisters’ etiquette lessons. So she folds her hands behind her back and holds her spine as straight as she can.

“What is it?” her father asks at last. He pushes away his papers but, rather than focus on Cinderella, pulls a ledger in front of him. “It is late.”

“I’m sorry,” Cinderella says. She is sorry. The sun has been done for hours and here is her poor father working away. She bites her cheek. “I—my room. Stepmother said the governess would need it and I would need to move for the duration of her stay.”

“Yes?”

Cinderella’s heart stings. He knew. She breathes in deeply. “It’s only—well, she’s been here for two months now.”

“And she will be here for many more,” her father says. He turns the page of the ledger and freezes. He frowns as his eyes skim the same line over and over again. “Is there a point, Cinderella? I’m busy.”

“I’ve been told to sleep in the kitchen,” Cinderella blurts out. She can see soot on the hem of her nightgown and she steps back to hide the stain in the shadows. “If I could have some space in the servant’s quarters, maybe…”

“It’s temporary,” her father says. He stands without taking his eyes off the page. Sweating, he dabs at his forehead with a handkerchief her mother embroidered for him and waves her off. “Go to bed, Cinderella. It’s late. We will talk in the morning.”

Be patient, Cinderella thinks. She wraps her arms around herself. The cold stone floors bite at her bare feet. Think kind thoughts. Rake the leaves around the oak tree.

Her father is gone in the morning on another trip.

He does not come home.

-----------------.

When Cinderella thinks positively, her life is like a fairytale. The kitchen hearth is warm and she never lacks for company between the birds that sing in the branches of the oak tree and the mice that snatch up crumbs before the ants can get to them. Her father is a dashingly handsome man on a mission to save their family from total ruin. The last letter he sent (over a year ago) detailed a harrowing trip over the seas to a new land in hopes of trade. He’s an adventurer. He’s a hero.

When her life is like a fairytale, Stepmother is only cruel to protect Cinderella from the Curse. She’s never decided what the “Curse” is, but it feeds on happiness. Stepmother piles chores and chores onto Cinderella so Cinderella is too tired to be happy and the Curse is held at bay.

Her stepsisters don’t make fun of Cinderella’s soot-filled hair or her tattered clothes. No, they tease as all sisters do. They happily eat what Cinderella cooks for them and, though they don’t say it out loud, they are always grateful to Cinderella.

Cinderella is patient. Cinderella is kind. The governess leaves without ever directly giving Cinderella a lesson. Cinderella’s room becomes a closet for her stepsisters and that’s okay. It’s okay because she loves them and she wants them to have room for their belongings.

Stepmother has her move to the attic instead. It’s nicer there than in the kitchen. She has a bed and a dresser and a little window that looks out over the driveway. She thinks it’s a turning point in their loving family and she’s finally been patient enough--

Stepmother starts insisting Cinderella answer to the call of a silver bell at all hours of the night. She thought Cinderella would hear the ringing better from the attic than from the kitchen. Cinderella, come here. Cinderella, move faster. Cinderella—

Cinderella rakes the leaves under the oak tree and stares down the driveway, wishing for her father to come home.

---------------.

Cinderella turns 17. It’s been six years since her father left on his quest and four years since his last letter. The money in the estate is drying up and Cinderella’s chores grow as their finances dwindle.

Cinderella feels the walls caving in a little more each day. Like she alone is sinking further and further underground and the collective weight of the earth around her attic bedroom is the reason the wood creaks a little more each passing storm.

Be kind, her mother told her.

But what is kindness when she is disintegrating in front of the the people who were supposed to love her? Her face is hollowed from understanding smiles. They love you, they just don’t know how to show it. Just be kind a little longer and then everything will be okay. Be patient—

So she ties her hair up in scraps of cloth leftover from mending the tablecloth and she goes out to face another day. The list of chores she must complete stretches until the sun goes down. She presses her hands into abrasive water and scrubs, scrubs, scrubs. She collects the silverware and polishes it (though it does not need to be polished). She sweeps and mops and prunes the roses.

She dusts the great, creaking carcass of a manor her father left behind and wonders for how much longer she is expected to be its beating heart?

Be patient, your reward will come, maintain your kindness and open your soul, carve out what you can spare —

Cinderella is growing too old for fairytales.

-----------------------.

She writes her father one last time on the last full moon of her nineteenth year. Cinderella feels so much older now and so young at the same time. The chill of fall permeates the attic and stiffens her fingers, but her heart is beating very hard.

I’m leaving, she writes. Her quill hovers over the next line. She could end the letter here, but she doesn’t want to. Her father has been absent, he may be dead, but she loves him still. She wants to share her elation with him even as it breaks her heart to leave behind what he built.

I’m leaving. Once my birthday comes, I plan to take a carriage into the city. I have a reference from our old gardener, and I will find work. I can’t stay here anymore, Father, waiting for letters that may never come. Thank you for everything you’ve done.

Cinderella stares at the letters. Thank you. The joy she’d felt earlier is dying under those words.

The truth is, Cinderella doesn’t feel thankful. She feels…raw. Tired. Like leaving is her last ray of hope and, without it, her world is darkness. She’s spent so many years making her life into stories to keep herself from breaking.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived under a terrible curse. Luckily her stepmother was clever and determined. Though she did not want to, she made herself be cruel to Cinderella in order to stave off—

Once upon a time, there were three sisters. Though the older two teased the younger, they loved each other very much—

Once upon a time, Cinderella worked hard enough and her new family realized they should have loved her all along—

She is tired of being kind. It hurts. Hurts like sleep in front of the hearth for years, hurts like the chill clawing through her attic room, hurts like remembering her mother’s last breath rattling out of her chest.

Telling her father thank you is kind. If he really is off trying to save their family from ruin, he is owed thanks. But Cinderella can’t give it. She is selfish in the end. Cruel and unkind. That’s why the family who was supposed to love her never could.

Cinderella presses quill back to parchment.

If I must suffer, I would rather it be from my own choices. There is no future for me here any longer. I will carry the memories of Mother in the garden for the rest of my life. I will remember the dinners we had at the dining table. I will think of the oak tree we used to sit under as a family. I hope you return to your new family safely and I hope you do not think of me when you do. I think we parted when Mother died. I must start my new life so this is goodbye.

Goodbye, Father.

She signs her name and seals the envelope before she can falter.

--------------.

A month after she sends her letter, a messenger arrives from the castle.

“A ball,” he says, handing the invitation to her stepmother. He frowns at the cobwebs along the ceiling and eyes the high polish of the ebony banister. “Open to all noble ladies of suitable peerage.”

There’s doubt in his voice when he says the word noble. Cinderella, eavesdropping from behind the closed door of the parlor, silently agrees. It’s been years since she thought of her father’s title of Baron. As part of the landless nobility, it rarely came up and, with her father’s absence, there’s no one to care.

But Stepmother cares. As soon as the messenger leaves, she’s celebrating with her daughters. “We’ll order dresses,” Stepmother says, clapping her hands together. “New dresses that will make my daughters shine brighter than any Duke’s daughter.”

“I want to wear green,” Anastasia says. She sighs dreamily. “They say the Prince’s eyes are green.”

“I want to wear black,” Drizella announces. She presses a hand to her chest. “The Prince and the King both have black hair. It will be to honor them.”

Stepmother does her best to hide her grimace. “Darling, black is…for other occasions. How about you try a nice lilac? Purple is for royalty.”

Drizella grins happily.

Cinderella slips back up to the attic. This speeds up her plans a little bit. The ball is three months away, but that is still a month before her birthday. A ball means the house will be empty. Cinderella will leave the night of the ball and, with any luck, it will be days before Stepmother even thinks to ring her silver bell.

Cinderella has work to do.

------------.

The ball affords Cinderella more opportunities than she thought. Stepmother keeps a strict inventory of the pantry, so Cinderella must collect her rations little by little to avoid detection. When her family goes into town to visit the seamstress, Cinderella leaves behind her chores. She picks her way through the woods behind the manor, eyes scanning the sides of the path. She can dry mushrooms or can berries if she finds them. Foraging is a faster way to fill her rations.

Cinderella likes being alone in the woods. The sun is high overhead and the light that shines through the canopy turns the leaves bright green. Birdsong drifts through the air and there’s a small scuffling from the ferns to her right as some small animal searches for fresh shoots. It feels like the woods are the only place she can be herself without worrying about kindness or unkindness.

She remembers a time when she hated it. One winter, they did not have enough firewood. Stepmother sent 15-year-old Cinderella into the woods in search of twigs and branches. She remembers the fear that still winter night built in her, the surety that she would either freeze to death or be eaten alive.

She’d wandered further and further from the house, desperate to complete her task so she could return to her attic. Her fingers had nearly frozen even tucked into her sleeves. The trees were stripped bare by the weight of the snow and ice. The moon had been barely bright enough to light her way and, looking back, there was no way she would have been able to collect enough firewood to make a difference. She was going to die before she completed her task, or so she thought.

Then she found the clearing.

She steps out of the treeline and into that same clearing now.

The woods are dense behind the manor. They trees that grow here are too hard for most loggers, ancient and gnarled in appearance. When she first stumbled into the wide, circular meadow, she had thought she was imagining things.

Even on that snowy, terrible winter, the clearing was green and warm.

Wildflowers peak out through grass as high as Cinderella’s knee. She wades through it, never fearing sharp stones or unexpected holes. In all the years she’s been coming here, she has never twisted her ankle or torn a hem. The clearing is like stepping into a picture, everything as soft as a brushstroke.

In the center of the wildflowers is an oak tree. From her studies, Cinderella estimates it to be twice as old as the one in the manor’s garden. Perhaps three or four hundred years old. The base is easily as big around as a carriage and the tree stretches a good dozen feet higher than the forest’s canopy.

There won’t be any mushrooms here, or at least not the kind Cinderella can eat. But it’s been so long since she’s had the chance to come here. She heads for the oak tree and sits against its trunk with a sigh, titling her head back against the bark. The warmth coming from the tree eases the tension from her shoulders. She’ll have to be careful lest she fall asleep. She’ll need to be back before Stepmother returns from the seamstress…

“You were gone a long time.”

Cinderella hums and folds her hands over her stomach. The boy’s words are accusatory, but Cinderella knows him well enough now to hear the undercurrent of worry in his words. “I had a big decision to make.”

The boy in the tree never shows himself. He may be the tree for all Cinderella knows. She’s never looked for the source, sensing that her friend may never come back if she asks too many questions. So, like always, she keeps her eyes shut as the boy’s presence grows all around her.

“About what we talked about last time?” he asks.

“Yes,” Cinderella says. She thinks of the letter she sent to a father who probably won’t read it and sighs again. “You’re right. I’m old enough to leave.”

The boy’s presence – his aura – brightens in her mind’s eye. She doesn’t know what he is, but she thinks fairies in fairytales move like this. Moving in short bursts, flashes of light, and sensations of warmth. “You’re coming to the Capital?”

Coming? Cinderella shakes off the odd phrasing. “Not quite.”

The boy is confused. “Then you’re not leaving?”

“I am.” Cinderella stretches out her legs in front of her. “I don’t know anyone in the Capital. Someone who used to work for my father gave me a reference that will be good in the next town over. That’s where I’m going.”

“You can’t!” The boy is in the tree now and it surges with heat as his temper flashes. “You can’t go there!”

“Why not?”

“Because we won’t be able to see each other anymore,” the boy says. The leaves of the tree rattle together. “I can’t get to that town.”

Cinderella sits up straight. “Wait, I could still see you in the Capital? That’s why you want me to go there?”

“Why else would I suggest it?” the boy asks. His voice softens. “You do still want to visit me, right?”

“Of course,” Cinderella says. She opens her eyes. There’s a sheen over the world, like she and the tree are being held separate from everything else by the boy’s presence. She watches rainbows drift through the air. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“We are.” The boy nudges her. “Close your eyes, you know it’s not good to look at magic too long.”

Obediently, Cinderella closes her eyes again. The boy is always saying that, but Cinderella has never felt any ill effects from looking at the rainbows. “I’ll get to the Capital eventually. But I do need to go to that town first.”

“Why?”

“I need to work,” Cinderella says. “If I’m going to the Capital, I definitely need money.”

“I can give you money.”

Cinderella doubts that. She doesn’t see why a fairy would have human money. “I still can’t go right away. My stepmother and sisters will be there for a while.”

“They’re coming—going there?! Why?”

“The Prince is looking for a bride,” Cinderella says. She shrugs. “A messenger came a while ago to invite us. That’s why I could come out today. My family is at the seam—Whoa!”

The wind picks up all at once, a warm and gentle gale that sweeps Cinderella’s hair up into the air. When she peeks, the rainbows are dancing.

“You got invited to the ball?” the boy asks. “How? Why?”

Cinderella furrows her brow. “All nobility is invited, even the children of barons who haven’t been seen for nearly a decade, apparently. Why are you excited? Do you even know what a ball is?”

“Do I—of course I—” The boy falls silent. When he speaks again, he’s using a much calmer voice. “I’m just excited that you could be in the Capital so soon.”

“I’m not going,” Cinderella says. She crosses her arms. “This is my best chance to leave. I’m not giving it up just so I can play servant to my stepsisters when they attend the ball.”

“You were invited too, right?”

“I wouldn’t actually be able to go,” Cinderella says. She can see the way it would play out. They’d bring her along to satisfy the messenger’s invitation and that’s it. “I don’t have a dress and, even if I did, my stepmother would force me to stay at the inn. I’d just be brought along to curl Drizella’s hair and patch Anastasia’s dress when she inevitably tears a hole in it.”

“That’s not fair,” the boy says. She gets the impression he’d be scowling if he had a face. “That’s not what the Prince meant to happen when he invited all noble ladies. He meant all of them had to come to the ball, not just the Capital.”

Cinderella can’t help it. She laughs. “It’s not fair, true. But I’m tired of waiting for the world to be fair. I’m sorry, but I won’t be going to the Capital just yet. I’ll come and find wherever your tree is as soon as I get there. Maybe in a year?”

The boy is silent for a long moment. At last he says, “If I could get you to the ball without your family knowing, would you go?”

Cinderella blinks. “I just said that I need to get a job right away—”

“But if I could,” the boy presses, “would you?”

Sometimes Cinderella forgets how naïve the boy is. He’s always talking like that, as if anything is possible. “But I can’t,” Cinderella says gently. “Even if you could get me to the Capital, I’d need a place to stay.”

“I could—”

“And a dress,” Cinderella interrupts. “And I’m sure I’d need the invitation and Stepmother would never let me have that. Even if I did go, what then? How long would I have to wait until I could leave again? Not to mention if my stepmother ever found out…”

“What if I got you a way to the Capital, a place to stay, a way for your stepmother to never find out, a dress, and a guaranteed way to stay in the Capital?” the boy asks. His aura shivers with intensity. “What if I promised you that I could do all that? You could go to the ball and still escape and you’d be somewhere we could still see each other.”

“That’s a lovely dream,” Cinderella says. She’s irritated now. Of course, that sounds wonderful. Cinderella has never been to a ball and the idea of having everything taken care of for one night sounds divine. But Cinderella is too old for fairytales. “Of course, if it were possible, I would do it! The truth is that it’s not possible—”

“Come back the full moon before the ball,” the boy says. His presence jerks up towards the canopy of the oak tree. “At night. Bring your things as if you were leaving. Alright? Promise me!”

“I don’t—”

“If it doesn’t work, you’re not any worse off. You’ll still be able to leave for the next town and we’ll see each other again in a year. But if it does work—”

“If what works?” Cinderella cries.

“Magic,” the boy says before disappearing completely.

Cinderella blinks rainbows out of her eyes. It’s suddenly too bright in the clearing and her head is spinning. Magic? What magic?

“I’m not going,” Cinderella says out loud. The boy isn’t there to hear her. She glares at the meadow. “This isn’t a fairytale. Magic won’t fix anything.”

Cinderella stands, dusts off her dress, and goes looking for mushrooms.

——-

Thanks for reading!

Part two is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you’d like to read it a week early, please consider supporting me on there :)

See y’all next week!

[saintrvckwell]

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life (joel miller x platonic!reader)

joel miller x platonic!reader

summary: perhaps now, twenty one years later, joel finally found the courage to face his fears. aka joel finally allows himself to accept the role he has in your life.

warnings: father-figure joel miller (more like an invitation rather than warning), fluff, slight angst at times, father-daughter duo kind of moments.

words count: 9.5k

a/n: joel miller was always the coolest father but pedro's portrayal took that to a whole new level. dedicated to all the daddy issues strugglers out there (myself included). here's the dad you deserved to have.

ps: this is my first work focused solely on joel's character so be patient with me. <3

enjoy!

"and I will go if you ask me to. and I will stay if you dare."

•

You were a mission, something that was supposed to have a beginning and the end. Someone he was supposed to lead to a given location and walk away. It was supposed to be easy—that what Tess promised to Joel when she begged him to take you, fulfilling her dying wish. How easy it was for her to ask, how difficult it was for Joel to keep that promise.

There was a reason as for why was Joel so reluctant to take you—to temporarily care for you. Reason unknown to you. He was cold from the day you met him; made sure you knew all the rules and understood that whatever role you were going to assign him, he was not going to take it. After all, that was what he promised himself.

To keep his distance, to put the walls up and protect himself from the possibility of being hurt again. But you were too determined to tear them all down.

And at a certain point, he didn’t know for whom he was fighting anymore. To protect himself from you or to protect you from him? You’ve encountered things, places, people and tragedies one could only fear.

And with each strike he took, with each throat he slit before they lied their hands on you, Joel fell deeper. Into the sense of protection that was rising within him each time a danger appeared in your sight. Before he knew it, he was in the same spot he was twenty years ago.

That’s when the breaking point came. And he turned around, grabbed your hand and walked back to the only place that could’ve offered you the life you deserved. And deep down hoped Tess would’ve understood. In the end, he kept the promise—he made sure you were safe, more than that. He gave you the opportunity of the best life you could’ve had, given the fungal conditions around.

And you didn’t protest, didn’t utter a single objection. Because you would’ve followed Joel to the edge of the universe and back.

Or at least to Jackson.

You arrived at dawn, holding tightly onto his back, nearly falling asleep on the horse. The last few weeks you’ve spent outside were taking its toll on you. It was deadly cold out there with temperating falling down every second. You heard his voice, calling out your name three times before you opened your eyes. You were standing by the stables with Joel’s younger brother walking towards you.

“We’re here,” Joel whispered.

“Oh,” you yawned. “I’m sorry,” you pulled your hands away and slowly got off the horse with Tommy immediately offering his help.

“Good to see you,” he smiled politely, “both of you,” his eyes landed on his brother.

You waited outside whilst Joel and Tommy stabled the horse.

“So,” Tommy spoke again as soon as the three of you were together, “how long is it this time?”

And your eyes met with Joel. He shrugged his shoulders and briefly looked at you before his eyes met with Tommy’s again.

Joel was never good with words which you learned pretty quickly. It was all about his subtle actions—that’s how the two of you bonded. For all those days on the road and nights under the dark skies, you never led any deep conversations, instead found a comfort in each other’s presence. In your signals.

Being back in Jackson felt strange at first. Accustoming to such world after months in the wildness was odd to say the least. But it felt easier with Joel by your side—or at least, that’s what you were hoping for since he brought you here. Yet, after a few days in, you couldn’t overlook the way he was trying to distance himself from you.

First, it was about the house.

With the previous one being given to a family that recently came to Jackson, Maria and Tommy had to find a new place for you.

“I wanted you to have something of your own,” Joel admitted one night whilst the two of you were sitting in the kitchen, eating leftovers. “But Maria said they’re full right now. As soon as something opens, I will let you know… if you’d like.”

You were caught off guard by that.

There was a part of you that hoped—no, that took this as a foregone conclusion that you and Joel would be living together. You couldn’t even picture yourself being alone considering how accustomed you’ve gotten to Joel’s constant presence. In certain sense, he represented some sort of safety blanket. He was the reason you came to Jackson in the first place.

Perhaps, you thought, now that his job was done, he might have thought that the two of you should go your separate ways. At the end of the day, he wasn’t your family—just someone who was promised to look after you.

Perhaps, you were not as significant to him as he was to you. There were too many scenarios running through your anxious mind. But you never asked.

Then, it was the patrol duty.

When Tommy showed up at your doorstep, three days after your arrival, he mentioned that kids your age were starting to learn how to shoot so they could join the junior patrol groups.

“You should go,” Joel proposed once Tommy left. “Tommy’s good with guns. You’re going to learn from the best.”

He sounded almost uninterested.

You looked up from your bowl of breakfast, hurt glancing in your eyes.

And he quickly became aware of that.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t know whether it was care or rather annoyance that you heard in his voice.

“You promised you were going to teach me how to shoot.”

There it was again in his eyes—the regret.

He thought, with genuine worry in his heart, that giving you space was what you wanted—what you deserved. Without realising he was hurting you both in the process.

Joel didn’t know how to walk in this, how to approach this new situation he found himself in. He wanted you around, he wanted to make sure were alright. But didn’t know how.

That afternoon, when you left the house to join Tommy and the rest of the kids, Joel was already gone. His brother had him signed on old kinds of duty around the settlement—giving him an opportunity to contribute. And as much as Joel complained and growled, he like the idea of being of use—being needed.

You arrived by the Tipsy Bison, joining the group of kids standing around and registered.

A young man, approximately in his early twenties looked upon the list of names he was holding before his eyes met with yours.

“You’re signed on the East Gate, Tommy’s waiting for you there,” he informed you.

You squeezed the straps of your backpack as you walked by the stables, nervously looking around. You were still trying to adjust but it felt so difficult at times, especially when you were alone. Tommy was nice, considering he most likely knew nothing about you, beside what Joel must have told him. But you didn’t felt that kind of safety you had around Joel.

Joel, who was standing three feet away from you, with riffle hanging over his shoulder.

Maybe he joined the patrol group as well, you thought as you headed towards him.

“Do you know where Tommy is?” you asked as you looked around, looking for his brother.

Joel frowned, almost offended.

“Am I not capable enough?” he mumbled playfully.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on.

“What?”

Before you uttered another mumble of confusion, Joel stepped closer and handed you the riffle.

“C’mon kid, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

The gate opened and Joel headed outside the safety, with you following his steps. There was a smile on your lips as you looked up and saw him, already explaining the route you were going to take—the high spots you were searching for. This was his way of apologising—his way of trying to do better.

Of making sure you knew that.

That day, you spent the whole afternoon together. What was supposed to be a regular two hour training that most kids took Joel turned into five, with the two of you coming back shortly after sundown, already past dinner time. It was the first time in a while you saw Joel genuinely laugh as he watched you struggling to reach the target.

You returned to Jackson with an empty magazine and one successful shot. But as you the two of you were walking home, side by side—it didn’t matter to you. It didn’t matter how terrible your aim was, how much of Tommy’s ammo you waisted. What mattered to you was the look in Joel's eyes, the smile on his lips he had as he was watching you.

He let his guard down, even if it was just for a second. And there he was—the Joel that was watching stars with you on the road.

It was about these moments. They meant whole world to you.

“You hungry?” he asked as you passed the dining hall.

You shook your head. “I’m alright. Besides, I think we’re already past the dinner time.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you eat since breakfast,” he commented. “I could make you something at home.”

Home.

It stuck with you.

He didn’t think about it when he said that. Perhaps, that was the revelation you were waiting for. That Joel felt the same way and what you had was, indeed, a home.

Joel’s parental instincts were always there, no matter how determined he was to suppress them. Every night on the road, he stood by your side with gun in his hand, every time you fell asleep without ur blanket, Joel made sure you were tucked in. Each time he promised himself it would be the last. But always failed to do so.

Truth was, without the fear of enemies lurking in every corner and in the safety of Jackson’s settlement, it was easier to slip back into his old, fatherly habits without even realising. Only took a few weeks for Joel to accustom to this life—to having you around every day.

You sat together for breakfast every morning and met by the gates every afternoon after your assignments ended to take you for another shooting lesson.

Month later, you hit three out of six targets. Each time, he stood beside, that proud smirk on his lips. Three weeks after that, you hit five of them. That night, Joel even offered to take you to the movies as a reward for your successful lesson.

You were so excited—you wanted to join the others for so long but didn’t feel like going by yourself so having Joel propose that idea felt quite nice. But after all the training and another two hour long shooting lesson, you started to get weary. Twenty minutes into the movie, your head crashed onto Joel’s shoulder as you slowly fell asleep. His eyes landed on your sleepy face and there it was again—that smile. The one he didn’t have in a while.

Two hours later, you woke up in half empty dining hall.

“Need a hand?” you heard a familiar voice around you, mixed with laughter.

“I got it,” Joel replied.

A few seconds later, Joel’s hand caressed your cheek. “Kid?”

You quickly became aware of your pposition and immediately pulled away, despite the tiredness still wearing off.

“Shit,” you whispered, rubbing your sleepy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shook his head. “Let’s go get your jacket.”

He got up and you, still not fulling woken up, followed his steps. Joel noticed how somnolent you were, so he walked you to the door, helped you put on the your jacket, wished Maria and Tommy good night before you headed out back to your place.

You were barely seeing above your own feet, tiredness still having power over you as you struggled to keep up with Joel’s pace. Didn’t take long for him to realise that you were two feet behind. He swiftly turned around, rushing towards you.

“I’m so tired,” you yawned. “I just want to lie down.”

“Absolutely not,” Joel mumbled. “Let’s go, we’re two streets away.”

“That’s so far,” you whined. “I could just lie down right here and fall sleep.”

He couldn’t help but laugh over your statement. He stepped closer, threw his hand around your shoulder and pulled you closer to keep you warm. “Two streets and we’re home.”

There it was again.

Being too tired to notice, you paid no mind. This time it was Joel who was caught off guard by his own words. As the two you walked through the quiet streets of his brother’s settlement, it slowly dawned on him. There was no point in denying. It was a home—to you, to him. Even if he wasn’t strong enough to admit it out loud, it was your home.

Three weeks later, Jackson county was covered in snow. Due to an ongoing blizzard, all of Joel’s shooting lessons were postponed until further notice, as Maria prohibited him from taking you outside the settlement in such unpredictable conditions.

That afternoon, she showed up unannounced by the east gate—already figuring out your and Joel’s teaching schedule. To keep the two of you busy, she signed you to decoration duty instead.

As the holiday season was slowly approaching, the whole settlement was getting ready.

Joel’s disgruntlement over her orders couldn’t be more obvious. But he swallowed his need to object and accepted the orders, leaving you in Maria’s hands.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t like those little trips of yours,” Maria admitted whilst the two of you were scavenging the decorations for the Christmas tree Tommy, Joel and other men were putting up.

You shrugged your shoulders, “We’re not going that far. Just around the settlement.”

“Why can’t you just go with the other kids at school?” she asked.

“Don’t you always say that we should only head out there with those we trust?”

She saw the look in your eyes and knew there was no need to say anything more. You knew she meant well—Maria wanted you to adjust to this place, to make friends of your own age. But she was also aware of the fact that separating you from Joel would do more harm than good. She did not agree with most of his actions but still respected that man. After all, he was her family.

That day, you got there late. Joel was already back, sitting in the living room with book in his lap. As interesting as the crime thriller could have been, Joel’s attention was elsewhere. Sitting in an old chair by the window, he was impatiently waiting for your arrival. It was shortly after nine when you came. As soon as he saw you on the porch, he grabbed the book, suddenly finding interest in every line.

You entered the dark hall, seeing the only source of light coming from the living room. That’s when Joel finally looked up, seeing you standing there with snowflakes in your hair.

“Hey, didn’t hear you coming,” he greeted you, closing the book. “How was your decorating duty?”

“How was yours?” you mumbled sarcastically, ready to roll your eyes.

Joel chuckled over your reaction. “Fair enough.”

For a second, the awkward silence crept in until Joel spoke again.

“I grabbed you some food on the way back,” he announced. “Left it in the fridge for you.”

“Oh… thanks,” you whispered, quite taken aback by that gesture. “But uh, Maria took me to dinner…so.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head.

There was a reassuring smile on his lips—even if it was for a moment.

“By the way…” Joel spoke again, sensing that you wanted to head upstairs. Once he got your attention again, he continued: “Tommy asked me today if we’d want to join him and Maria for Christmas Eve dinner next week.”

We.

You tried to hide that unexpected excitement his words left in you, yet Joel still managed to spot that glimpse of sparks in your eyes.

“It’s not mandatory, so if you don’t want—“

“No!” you interrupted him. “I mean yes… yes, we can go.”

“Oh,” he whispered, surprised by your sudden reaction. “Alright then, I’ll tell Tommy.”

After that, the awkward silence appeared again. You stood there for moment or two before Joel considered that it was time to go—he wished you good night and quietly disappeared upstairs, whilst you stayed there for another second. It was so unusual to see Joel this nervous and you wondered what could’ve been the cause of that.

With the holidays approaching, the thought of the old days was harder to avoid, especially with all those children running around. Everywhere he went, he saw her, saw the memories tied to her. It was easier to avoid those when he lived in Boston. The only haunting things were his nightmares which he usually deadened with a bottle of whisky and sack of pills. But here in Jackson, it was different. There was the glimpse of normal life—as normal as one could get in such world. It was way too easy to look at those luckier than him and wonder what could been.

That could been the root of the problem as for why Joel struggled with the way he felt about you. Each time he grew closer, it frightened him. He was frightened by the idea of encountering the same pain again because he knew that this time—he couldn’t bear through. He couldn’t suffer through the loss of another daughter.

Because that's who you were for Joel.

You were his daughter. Despite the numerous times he tried to fight, despite his inability to express this, deep down, Joel knew it. Even as terrifying as it was to admit it, you were his kid. He never stopped being a dad, he was just now yours.

And when he lied awake that night, he made a decision. Maybe it was time to stop running away from it—to stop running away from you.

When you woke the next morning, something felt different. Dressed up and ready, you ran down the stairs, surprised to see what was in front of you. Lighted and decorated, there was a Christmas tree standing by the fireplace. You couldn’t quite comprehend that sight.

It was barely after eight o’clock. You couldn’t help but wonder when did Joel managed to do this. In the kitchen, you found a message on the table along with a piece of apple pie that he must have brought from the dining hall.

Tommy and I had to leave early, there’s been accident at the power plant. Maria’s going to bring you dinner tonight. We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.

— Joel

A part of you felt saddened over the thought of Joel possibly missing the Christmas Eve. But at the same time—you couldn’t help but smile over him doing all of this before he left. Putting the Christmas tree, getting you breakfast. He wanted to make sure you would still have good time, despite him missing it.

Later that day, Maria stopped by with dinner. As soon as she entered the hall, she couldn’t overlook the shining Christmas three. You two dined together in silence, washed the dishes and even offered for you to stay at their place until Joel and Tommy return. But as kind as her offer was, you politely declined. That night, you fell asleep on the couch, staring at those lights, hoping Joel was alright.

The blizzard out there wasn’t going away anytime soon. Each morning, whilst walking to your training, you couldn’t stop worrying. You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet that didn’t stop the ongoing fear that was rising within you each time you came home and he wasn’t there.

The house felt so empty without him there. Even though the two of you spend most of your time in silence or in separate rooms, you both had your comfort in each other’s presence. The idea of Joel being door away from you felt reassuring. Naively, you never thought that could change. In this sense, Jackson has softened you. Those gates around gave you sense of protection.

But he didn’t have that.

Each night, you waited. Sitting in his old chair by the window, you held your switchblade between your fingers and waited until you fell asleep. Fell asleep with a hope and woke with coldness wrapping around your body and disappointment that dawned on you when you found his room empty.

Three days before Christmas, you felt the need to express your anxiousness to Maria.

“The plant is a few of miles away. And with the snowstorm out there, it would be too dangerous to head back in such conditions,” she explained. “They’ll be back soon, you’ll see.”

You knew she was worried as well. But she did much better job at hiding it. She promised you that even if Joel and Tommy didn’t make it in time, you would still celebrate the Christmas Eve, together. And as much as you appreciated that effort—you didn’t care about celebrations of any kind. The only thing you cared about was Joel.

On twenty third of December, the clouds of fog and heavy flakes of snow finally disappeared. Yet there was no sign of Joel nor Tommy. You waited by the East Gate whole afternoon until your fingers felt numb from the coldness. You waited there until the sundown when Maria came to pick you up. You protested, begging her to let you stay up with men from the night watch.

“You’ll wait for him at home,” she insisted. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re freezing.”

But you didn’t care and she knew. But there was no point in fighting with her. You sighed, jumped down from the lookout and with disappointment hidden behind your eyes, you returned to that empty house. That night, you sat in that chair with switchblade in your hand—just like all those previous nights and waited.

On the twenty four of December, Christmas Eve, you were sitting by the kitchen table with Joel’s note in your hand.

“We should be back in a few days but if not, Merry Christmas kid.”

The chances of Joel and Tommy returning before the Christmas dinner were slimmer with each hour that past. At noun, it was decided that small group of patrollers would head to that plant and bring them back. With the weather conditions improving, you knew there must have been a different reason as for why they were still not coming back. And Maria knew it as well, despite her best efforts to keep you calm.

“There’s Christmas dance going on at the hall tonight. We could go if you’d like,” Maria offered when the two of you met at the stables. “Or we could still make the dinner.”

“I think I’ll just stay home,” you whispered, grabbing your backpack from the floor. “I’m quite tired. And I have the kindergarten duty tomorrow, so.”

“Y/N—?”

“Just tired, really,” you interrupted her. “Don’t worry.”

“Alright then,” she sighed, not trying to persuade you. “But tomorrow—dinner at my house. No excuses, six o’clock sharp.”

You felt guilty for declining again. So this time, you agreed to her proposal. After all, you could really use a moment out of your house. Maria meant well, she cared about you and she wasn’t exactly happy with the thought of you being all alone there.

On your way back, you passed the gate again, stayed a second or two and waited. For a moment, you thought you could sneak out tonight and try bribing one of those junior patrols guys at the watch to let you sneak up there. But you knew one of them would tell and you didn’t want to cause any more unnecessary worry for Maria. She already cut you a lot of slack with all those assignments you signed yourself off of.

When the clock stroke eight, you lost all your hope that Joel could make it before midnight. But knew that he wouldn’t want you to stare out of that window forever. So you decided to stop by the Christmas dance to grab a dinner, at least. When you returned, you lit a candle and sat down by the tree. Though as much as you tried, your eyes always landed on that view.

Shortly before midnight, you headed upstairs to his bedroom. His bed has not been made since the day he left. There wasn’t much of sight of him, besides the stuff in the clothes where you were headed. You opened the wooden door and took out his old jacket. Maria forced two of you to get rid of most of your old clothes and gave you new, not ripped and stained ones, but he still kept that one jacket.

You took it off the hanger and put over your sweater. It still had it scent.

With that, you went back and with switchblade in your hand, you sat down on the stairs on the front porch. You heard the celebratory noises coming from the hall but didn’t feel the need to join. Instead, you looked up at the stars.

During one of those night out there, you told Joel how much you loved the constellations and even showed him some of them—which he found profoundly interesting, as much as he tried to tell otherwise.

There you saw it—Big Dipper. The one you showed him, the only one he managed to spot.

That’s when midnight stroke.

And tears rolled down your face. As you looked ahead and saw the darkness.

And a shadow.

Shadow of a man.

For a second, you thought you could blame it on your somnolent mind. But when your name slipped from his lips, twice, it wasn’t your imagination anymore.

It was Joel.

“Joel?” you whispered as you saw him, heading towards you.

You couldn’t quite believe it.

“Joel!” you called out, not waiting another second to rush towards him, meeting him halfway.

He was out of the darkness, standing right there in front of you.

It was him.

But the smile you had on your lips faded away the second you saw a blood seeping through the fabric on his right leg.

“Are you—“ you gasped, eyes landing on his injury.

He immediately realised where your mind went.

“No,” he reassured you, stepping closer. “It’s just an injury, a scratch. Nothing more.”

You noticed the trouble he had whilst walking.

“I still have aid kit in my backpack upstairs,” you mumbled, worried thoughts jumping from one another in your mind. “It’s not much but I can fix it. I could just go and fix it, just let me—“

“Y/N!”

His voice echoed in your ears. Suddenly, he stood right in front of you, his cold hands grabbing both of your puffy cheeks. There was one thing you had in common in that very moment. The fear that rose in both of you, the worry that was put on display when you looked into his eyes. You couldn’t hold it together anymore, despite the efforts.

“I thought,” you gasped between the sobs, “I thought you didn’t come because…”

“No,” Joel reassured you again, this time with a smile on his lips. “See? I didn’t. I’m alright, I’m alright.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, trying to comprehend what was going on.

And as he saw you, standing there in his old jacket, freezing and crying—if there were any remaining walls, they all fell down. In that moment, every single one of his parental instincts kicked the minute he pulled you into his arms.

“I’m alright, kiddo,” he whispered, caressing your hair as you cried out. “I’m alright.”

As soon as you pulled away, Joel threw his hand over your shoulder as you quickly helped him get inside. Sitting him down on the couch, you ran upstairs, throwing the backpack on the bed as you impatiently took out one thing after another until you find the first aid kit. Only then you rushed downstairs, fix Joel’s wounds.

You almost tripped over your own feet.

He was sitting in the same spot, eyes landing on the lightened Christmas tree.

After you sewed his injury, the two of you sat there in silence. Neither of you needed the words in order to embrace the comfort you had in each other’s presence. You sat there, watching the lights until you fell asleep on his shoulder. In that moment—Joel didn’t need anything else. He was home.

“Merry Christmas, kid,” he whispered, looking down on you.

Twenty minutes past midnight, Joel made it.

But then the dawn came.

You woke up, eight hours later, finally without those worries hanging over your head. In the same spot you fell asleep, only with blanket covering your body. It was quiet, peaceful. Until you slowly awakened and your eyes landed on the wall clock above the living room dresser.

Within a second, you were up on your feet.

“Shit!” you yelled out, ignoring the possibility of Joel, still being asleep.

With tiredness wearing off, you tripped over your feet tree times, with each almost landing on your face. You quickly changed your clothes and ran back downstairs.

And there he was.

Leaning against the kitchen desk with cup of coffee in his hand, Joel couldn’t overlook the distress pictured all over you.

“Ever heard of a hairbrush?” he commented your appearance, being in the mood to have a little dig at you.

You didn’t have the time to roll your eyes over his words.

“I’m running late,” you whispered, looking around, trying to find your backpack. “I was supposed be at the kindergarten twenty minutes ago!” you cried out, stressed, trying to find your possessions. “Maria’s going to kill me. And where is that fucking thing?”

“Tried your room?” Joel proposed, visibly being amused by your current state.

“Dammit!” you yelled out, running back upstairs.

Within seconds, you were rushing back down, pushing your switchblade into your back-pocket.

“Gotta go—!” before you managed the disappear outside, Joel’s voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he headed towards you.

You turned from the doors, “to my assignment? I already missed most of them this week. Can’t screw this one as well.”

“Where’s your other jacket? The down one that Maria brought the other day?”

You stared at his, utterly confused over that question.

“What?” you shook your head. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/N, it’s freezing out there, you’re not going in this,” he pointed to your windbreaker.

In this moment, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I don’t have time for this—“

“Y/N, this is not open for discussion,” he stepped closer. “Go and get the other jacket.”

“Joel—!”

“Now, Y/N,” he repeated, admonishing look in his eyes.

He was never more parental than in that moment as he watched you grumpily running upstairs to grab your other jacket.

You came down, clothes changed.

“Now hat, and gloves. Where are your gloves?”

“Seriously?!”

There was something unimaginably funny as he watched you losing your temper when you did a second round of running and came back, redness in your cheeks.

You put it on and looked at Joel, annoyance expressed all over your face.

“Happy?” you mumbled sarcastically, grabbing your backpack from the floor.

“That you’re not going to freeze out there? Yes, I am,” he shrugged his shoulder. “Although,” he stepped closer and pulled the zip of your down jacket up to the top. “Now, I am.”

You rolled your eyes, once again.

He couldn’t help but chuckle over that response.

“You’re warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m sweating like a pig, Joel.”

“Better than freezing, don’t you think?” he couldn’t help but have another dig at you. “If you caught cold, I would be the one running around you.”

“Well, I couldn’t rob you of your favourite I told you moment, could I?” you grinned. “Besides, with this leg… you can barely walk so I don’t know what running you’re talking about, old man.”

He bursted into laughter.

“You're such a stubborn pain the ass, you know that?” he observed between laughs.

But then it happened.

“Okay, dad.”

That one sentence that was supposed to be an innocent joke—a little dig.

Carrying little no meaning.

Until you saw how Joel’s eyes suddenly shifted. And the laughter was no longer there. The spark was gone and he stood there, quiet and frozen. Stiff and numb over your words.

It’s been more than twenty one years since he last heard that.

His heart dropped into his stomach, the world around became too heavy.

There she was, in his mind again. That day, that exact moment. His eyes landed on his watch.

He heard his name coming out of your mouth, three times before he looked up—seeing the genuine worry displayed right in front of him.

“Joel—?“

“Go,” he whispered, so coldly.

You shook your head, confused. “Joel, are you—?”

“Go,” he repeated. “Your assignment is waiting. Leave.”

You stood there for two second, before you heard him again—urging you to leave. All at once, you couldn’t recognise him. You had no idea what caused this strange reaction, but didn’t dare to ask. Instead, you obeyed. You bowed your head and walked out of your house.

Each step you take, the further you were from the house, the more guilt was rising within you. What could you have done to displease him this much?

You’ve experienced Joel’s anger a few times, while the two of you were on the road. To be honest, Joel’s patience was thin and you knew what strings to pull to get him into rage. Him yelling at you became a daily routine at one point. But you’ve never seen him like this. The stare he had, the emptiness in his eyes.

As if you were dead to him. Truth was, you would much rather had him screaming at you than being this eerily quiet.

You arrived to your assignment and quickly got to work, hoping no one would notice your delay. But even with the amount of work you had around, you couldn’t stop thinking about that odd encounter with Joel. What could’ve been that made him so upset?

Could’ve been the joke, you thought. But it was an innocent statement, with not much truth in it. Or was it? Or was it something that accidentally carried more truth that you were willing to let on? Could Joel sense that?

One too many scenarios running through your worried mind.

“Y/N?” Maria’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked up and saw her, standing by the door.

“Hey,” you mumbled, putting the basket with toys on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Just checking in,” she replied, smile on her lips. “I stopped by your place but forgot your had your duty today. Wanted to take Joel to infirmary but looks like you already took care of that.”

“Oh, yeah. It was nothing,” you whispered, eyes landing on the floor, the desire to avoid every conversation that included his name rising with each second. “I have a lot to finish today, so…”

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Maria laughed. “Just wanted to say that since Tommy and Joel got back in one piece, we thought we could have the Christmas dinner today. After all, the holidays are still on.”

“I don’t think Joel’s in mood for celebration of any kind,” you admitted.

“I already talked to him and he agreed.”

So maybe he managed to cool down, you thought. Or at least, you were hoping for that.

Maria stayed for a few more minutes, asking you to come earlier tonight to help prepare the dinner. She freed you from your afternoon assignments to have enough time to change and get ready. You stayed at the kindergarten until one in the afternoon, then helped for two hours at the stables before you headed back to your house.

You learned from her that both Tommy and Joel had a day off so part of you hoped you would run into him. But when you came, the house was empty. Joel’s backpack and gun were lying by the chair but he was nowhere to be found—as you searched every room around. You tried to not think much of that but there were still those doubts inside you.

Luckily, you were running out of time—which meant you had to hurry up and pull yourself out of your worried mind. You didn’t have any decent clothes to wear, except for the regular ones. So you just grabbed a clean sweater, pants and tied your hair up before you headed to Maria’s.

When you arrived, Maria was already cutting the vegetables in the kitchen. You let yourself in, throwing the jacket on the hanger in the hall as she called you in. It was the first time you were in their home as they mostly came to visit you and Joel. It was much bigger than what the two of you had but all those details displayed around implied that they’ve been here for quite some time. Each corner had a track of them. There were pictures on the walls, books on the coffee table with an empty cup, flower pots on the windowsill.

But what caught your attention was a board, resting on the top of the fireplace.

You didn’t mean to snoop but when you saw those names, you couldn’t look away. There were two of them, along with four dates. Took only few seconds for you to realise what this was supposed to meant.

Shivers went down your spine. Especially once you heard Maria calling you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, rushing into the kitchen.

“It’s alright, just finish these carrots,” she handed you the knife. “I need to start preparing the meat.”

You took the orders without any objections.

You wondered. Were they Tommy’s or Maria’s children? Or did each belong to one of them? You wouldn’t guess the two of them to experience such loss since they’ve both seen so well put together.

But you knew yourself how easy it was to put up a believable surface. You did that after Tess’s death, despite how painful it was to lose someone so close. You didn’t have any other option. Maybe they were once in a similar position.

Eventually, every person finds a way to live with their pain. They either face it or suppress that, deep down.

You only now realised how important must have been this child to Tommy and Maria. Get a second chance in a world like this was almost a miracle.

“Tommy’s memorial caught your attention?”

Almost as if she read your mind.

You startled, nearly accidentally cutting yourself.

“I wasn’t… you mumbled, embarrassed. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Maria looked up, reassuring smile on her lips.

She was kind, like always.

“I’m sorry about your kids.”

So you felt the need to let her know.

Her eyes locked with yours again, “Thank you. Although, just a kid, Kevin.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “So Sarah was Tommy’s daughter?”

“She was his niece,” Maria replied, still preparing the meet.

In that moment, the world around stopped for a second.

Tommy’s niece.

Meaning?

You had to take a deep breath.

“So, she was…” you swallowed, feeling the frog in your throat growing bigger each second.

“Joel’s daughter,” Maria finished your sentence, paying no mind to your current state.

Joel’s daughter.

Joel had a daughter. A daughter just three years younger than you.

You needed a moment to process this.

He used to be someone’s dad.

Then the last piece of the puzzle was found. And the mystery was solved.

And your shattered heart dropped into your stomach.

He used to be a dad.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Suddenly, you’ve never felt worse. For what you said, for being so cruel. All those days, all those moments, all his words—all at once it made sense. It was the last clue you needed to win the prize. Was it worth though, was the question.

“Y/N?” you heard Maria’s voice calling your name.

Three times before you looked up, still a little spaced out.

“He didn’t…” she whispered, putting two and two together. “Oh…”

“That’s alright,” you shook your head. “It’s not your fault.”

You didn’t know how to approach this newly revealed information, how to solve the problem without causing even more of them. Joel was never the most sharing individual, neither of the two of you was. Though you couldn’t blame him. He was keeping this inside of him for more than twenty years. One could one fear how difficult that must have been.

“How did it happen?” you dared to ask.

Maria looked you. She knew this wasn’t her place to talk but still gave in. “I don’t know the details. Just that it was the day of the outbreak.”

You thought there was no chance this could get any worse.

“Day after Joel’s birthday.”

Somehow it did.

And you felt even more guilty for asking these questions in the first place.

You thought of this afternoon, when you were rushing back to your house, hoping you would find Joel there. Now you were on the verge of praying to every none-existent higher power that he could change his mind and not come. You wanted to do everything you could to avoid him, out of the shame that you were feeling.

That of course, did not happened.

At half past six, Tommy arrived from Tipsy Bison with bottle of scotch and smile on his lips. He had a stitch above his eyebrows, meaning both him and Joel were involved in whatever fight that went down at power plant, probably with those raiders Maria kept mentioning. Greeting both of you, he kissed Maria on the cheek, placed on the bottle on the kitchen desk and disappeared upstairs to change his clothes.

Thirty minutes after him, Joel arrived.

You were in the middle of settling the dinner table when you heard the door slam. You paid no mind, placing the four plates on their spots. Only when you turned to get the cutlery, you saw Joel standing by the coffee table—his eyes immediately landing on you.

The fear in your face was difficult to overlook. For a second, your sight shifted from Joel to the memorial board right next to him.

For a second.

Yet he still managed to catch that.

Without a thought, you turned around and headed towards the kitchen to grab the tray with glasses and cutlery. When you came back, you saw him standing on the same spot. Only now, his full attention was directed towards that board before you caught his attention, again.

It didn’t take much for him to realise the nature of your behaviour—beside what happened this morning.

You stood there, staring at the each other. Your heart was pounding louder with each second, hands were sweating, the tray in your hands shaking. Only when Tommy’s voice called out for Joel, you looked away and went to finish your job.

Feeling even more ashamed than before, if it was still possible.

To say the dinner was awkward would have been an understatement. The four of you sat by the table in silence, with mostly Tommy or Maria leading the conversation. Their words and the conversation in general was revolving mainly around Jackson and things related to that as both of them sensed that none of you were in the mood. Maria kept checking on you—she didn’t miss how determined you were to avoid Joel’s eyes.

It was after dinner when you saw him lighten up a little. Tommy grabbed the bottle of scotch and took Joel into his little office space downstairs, right in the entrance hall. Which you and Maria used as an opportunity to wash the dishes.

You placed the dishes right next to the kitchen sink when you heard Tommy’s laugh.

“…it’s time consuming!”

Shortly, it was followed by Joel’s brief laughter. Still, it was nice to know he was easing up.

“It’s that stupid clock joke Tommy heard this morning,” Maria commented as you handed her the dishes, one by one.

There wasn’t any response coming from you. Your mind was too preoccupied for that.

And as much she didn’t want to cross the boundaries, she was worried about you.

“Joel cares about you, you know,” she spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at her, handing her the plate.

“I’m not really sure about that right now,” you admitted. “Although, I couldn’t really blame him.”

“You worry too much,” Maria chuckled.

“Can you blame me?” you muttered, looking down.

“I had plenty of evidence to be confident in my previous claim.”

“Like what?” you sighed.

“A, he brought you here—“

“I saw him spare a rabbit once. So not leaving me out in the cold is not a strong argument.”

Maria chuckled again.

“He brought here and asked for the two of you to be placed together.”

Wait a minute.

You looked up once more, confused over Maria’s words.

“No,” you shook your head. “Joel said you just didn’t have any other place for me…”

“We have a few houses specifically for kids of your age. Since I knew your situation and wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to be around your peers. I offered that to Joel. But he insisted that you stay under his roof.”

That sudden new information needed a second to process.

You thought that, perhaps, he thought the two of should take your separate ways—that’s why he mentioned that you should have a place of your own. When in reality, he wanted you around. He asked to have you around.

“What’s B?”

Maria took a deep breath and placed the plate into the sink.

“It’s tough to lose a child, in any kind of world, fungal or not. And it is even harder to allow yourself to care this way again, for somebody else. Which is why you might have felt like he was pushing you away at times, maybe even right now. But despite his actions saying otherwise at times, you mean a whole world for him. You are his whole world.”

You wanted to believe every word of that statement. Because that’s what Joel was to you. After everything you’ve encountered, Joel was the closest thing to a family one could have in this world. And you wanted to believe that you carried that value for him as well.

“You just have to cut him some slack. He might be scared,” she continued.

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of having another chance to be a parent. It’s way too easy to screw that job, in every world.”

Maybe all you needed to understand Joel was one conversation with someone who was once in the same position.

Suddenly, each attribute of Joel’s personality, each strange detail about him pulled together a one, bigger picture. Although the losses in your life might not have been as traumatic as those of Joel’s, you were starting to understand him. And deep down, hoped that you didn’t blow up all your chances to fix what you’ve broken.

That evening, you headed home first. After you helped Maria clean everything, you asked her to tell Joel that you were tired and left early. Even though there was a part of you, wanting to run after him and apologise, you couldn’t do it. Once you heard his laugh, you knew you owed him a moment of peace. Your conversation could wait for another day or two.

It was first time since this morning there was even the slightest amusement on his face. Could’ve been the simple stupidity of that joke, the bizarreness that somehow made him chuckle. He stood there, leaning against the grey wall with scotch in his hand, trying so hard to suppress those laughs.

“You can laugh, it’s funny,” Tommy teased him, finishing the rest of his drink. “It’s a great joke.”

“A really lame one,” Joel commented, squeezing the glass in his hands.

“Well, you never really had a good sense of humour so,” Tommy chuckled.

Joel shrugged his shoulders over that statement, partially agreeing before he drank the rest of his liquid courage.

It was getting late, he wanted to head home and get some rest. He handed Tommy the empty glass, patted his shoulder and gave him a fleeting smile—enough to let him know that he was thankful for the distractions. Only then he went into the living room, looking for you.

He found Maria instead.

She knew the answer he came for in the first place.

“She left a few minutes ago,” Maria answered the implied question. “But she left this in here,” she turned around and grabbed pair of green gloves. “Could you give that to her?”

Joel nodded, bitting his lower lip, slowly immersing into his thoughts.

“Well,” he snapped out his head after a second, squeezing the gloves in his hands, “I should probably go too. Thank you for the dinner, though.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled.

He knew where he was going. Yet before he made a single step, the memorial board caught his sight again. He was aware of not always being the most pleasurable human being to others around, though he always justified that by saying that he was only trying to protect himself. But when he visited today, for the first time, and saw the board—there was regret. For, maybe, being too harsh at times.

Everyone was carrying around their own kind of pain. Some were just too good at hiding it.

So before he left, he turned to Maria.

“Listen,” he cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “About…”

She knew where he was headed. And wanted to spare him the difficulties.

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too…”

Nothing else needed to be said, they both understood.

With that, Joel grabbed the rest of his stuff and set off.

As he walked through the streets, seeing the lights hanging on the houses and snowflakes falling to the ground, his mind wondered. Towards you, towards this morning. Part of him felt guilty for pushing you away so suddenly. You must have meant it as a joke, he thought. That’s what he’s been trying to tell himself the whole day.

Yet there was a part of him. Part of him that was terrified of you, being serious with that title. Joel came to terms with the way he felt about you, with the amount of care and sense of protection he had for you. But why was the idea of you feeling the same way about him so frightening? Why was it so easy to accept you as daughter but hesitate to become your father? He was in this same position twenty one years ago. And he couldn’t promise to not fail again.

There was guilt. Guilt he was carrying around for more than twenty years. Guilt of failing, for not being the father Sarah deserved to have in that moment. And it felt selfish of him to put another child through that. Maria was right. It was scary to have another chance with something so fragile. Perhaps, he should’ve just walked away, could’ve given up.

But somehow found himself standing in front of your door. With pair of green gloves in his hands and shame in his eyes.

He knocked on the door two times to make sure you were still awake. Only when he heard your voice, he let himself in.

You were standing by your closet, carefully folding your things.

Somehow, in this moment, seeing you so accustomed this place, it made Joel happy.

Then he saw the curiousness in your eyes and panicked. For a second, he panicked, overthinking his actions.

“Maria,” he mumbled, looking for the right words, “Maria… Maria said you left this at their place,” he finished his attempted and stepped closer into the room.

Your eyes landed on the pair of gloves in Joel’s hands.

“Oh…” you raised your eyebrows. “But these… these are not mine. I gave them back to Maria weeks ago because they were too small for me…”

You stopped for a moment and realised she achieved exactly what she wanted with that gesture. And you couldn’t help but chuckle over that.

Joel, on the other hand, couldn’t ignore the embarrassment rising within him.

Quickly, you saw that. Saw him clearing his throat and placing the gloves on the edge of your bed.

He stood there, for a second or two and you wondered if, perhaps, there was more to his visit. You looked into his eyes and saw the struggle—saw how desperately he was trying to find the appropriate approach to this situation and took this as an opportunity to set things right.

“Listen,” you whispered, catching his attention. “I just…”

You both struggled with finding the right words.

Placing the clothes you were holding just a second ago onto the closet shelf, you stepped closer to him.

“I’m sorry for what I've said this morning. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know that—“

The shame he had in his eyes was now glancing in yours. And he saw that, saw every bit of that.

That’s why he stopped you.

“No,” he shook his head. “Y/N, please no.”

He followed your lead and stepped closer, sitting down on the edge of your bed as the frustrated sigh left his mouth.

“It’s not your fault. How could you know…”

It was the first time you saw Joel like this. It was the first you spoke of this.

There was hurt in his voice and you knew he must have been trying to suppress that for quite some time.

You quietly joined him, eyes landing on the floor.

“Maria told you?” he asked, filling up the hollow silence.

“I saw the memorial Tommy made… you probably figure the rest,” you whispered.

Joel nodded.

“Don’t be mad at her, please. I swear, if I knew… I wouldn’t—“

He finally looked into your eyes, stopping your words. “Y/N, it’s alright. I am not mad at her.”

There was a sense of relief that flew through your body.

Although, there was also one question remaining.

“What about me?” you dared to ask.

He heard the tone of your voice and saw the worry in your eyes.

There it was, the confrontation he couldn’t keep running away from. For a moment, the hollow silence returned just as your fears. In the same exact moment that Joel finally decided to face his.

“If you think about me this way, if you feel about me this way… then I don’t… I don’t mind if you want to call me that.”

That certainly was not what you were expecting.

But it turned out to be better.

“I’m trying to say that even though I can’t promise you that I’m worthy of that title… if you want me to have that role in your life…” he whispered.

“I thought you already had that,” you admitted.

The shock in his eyes was evident.

“Listen,” you whispered, turning to him. “I was on my own for most of the time before Tess finally found me and brought me to you. I’ve never had anyone like that. So I don’t have much to compare with. But if dad is supposed to be someone who makes you feel safe, who feels like home, then for me, Joel, you are worthy of that title.”

There it was. It was no longer just an assumption but a long lasting wish. He got the truth, got what he wished for and feared at the same time.

“Depends on if you want it.”

In that moment, he wanted to allow himself to want it. But in order to do that. There was one last step remaining.

Joel needed to forgive himself.

He needed to finally put down that baggage of guilt he’s been wearing around for twenty one years. He needed once and for all, stop looking behind him. And look ahead and take the opportunity the universe gave him.

Perhaps, you were what he needed to achieve that. By making sure you were safe, he would able to forgive himself for failing at that twenty one years ago. Deep down, he knew, she would never want him to wear his sadness around his neck. There would always be a part of her in Joel, nothing was going to change that. But maybe now, he was finally able to make space for you, too. To be your dad.

You heard the chuckles and looked up again. And there he was, looking down at his something to fight for. His whole world.

He smiled quietly and replied, “I do, kiddo.”

And when the word left your mouth, calling him that officially for the very first time, he barely managed to hold it together. Every remaining piece of his baggage disappeared, every last piece of the sadness he was wearing around his neck fell down as he finally put his guilt to rest.

And he kept the promise he gave. To both of his daughters.