#The final dream is about being unable to move on from a lost love. From something You made holy. From something You ruined.

[bunnybrews]

the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"See you tomorrow"

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── (✴) dream on dreaming !

nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, comfort. library

jeno has an assigned place where his head rests: on your shoulder. with one leg intertwined between yours, there is no living space when sleeping with jeno. still in morpheus' arms (or his, you're not sure) you detach yourself from his firm grip to shift position; jeno simply can't sleep without overlapping your body, so he quickly rolls to your side to pull you to him, letting you be the one to curl up against his warm neck. the sudden move will take you out of lethargy, hearing him mumble your name softly while he's still in his dreams as if he's looking for you there too.

sleeping with haechan is one of your favorite things. he got the softest combo of blankets, pillows, and bed ever, and if that's not enough, then you have your own body heater to hug. he's so warm and so cozy; you just have to get used to being the big spoon. he likes to crush you when he sleeps with you. placing his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeats, he has this habit of making sounds when he falls asleep while you playing with his hair. he purrs in his sleep and a grin blooms on his lips, and it's the last thing you register in your memory before joining him in the rem.

you've noticed that mark dreams in korean. it's a sweet and tender observation; he often smiles and talks in his sleep, his arms wrapping you into his embrace while he's lost in the clouds. you like to fall asleep watching his expressions change and finally relax when he says a word you do understand the meaning of in his language: honey. you hum drowsily as you begin to fall and fall, feeling him wake up fleetingly to snuggle up more against you and whisper that he loves you.

jisung has the sweet quirk of talking while asleep. and those conversations are so wholesome and dearest to you. he talks about his day, about his friends, his family. it's silly late-night conversations that in occasions, it's hard not to chuckle. you like to hear him tell you little secrets, sometimes you let him go on a little longer because that's when he talks about this girl he's in love with. your heart threatens to explode when he says your name so tender, snuggling closer to you before he goes back to sleep, because even when he's dreaming, you're there with him.

even though renjun is sleepy to death, he insists on telling you everything while you weren't with him. you usually have better sleep endurance than him, but you know that he is an innate stubborn, he will never go to sleep before you, so your fingers circle his forehead as you feel his tongue getting heavier and heavier, unable to formulate sentences without slurring the words and cutting them halfway, until you see him smile right before saying your name softly, finally realizing your victorious attempt to put him to sleep.

jaemin's been having a light sleep lately and any movement or sound you make causes him to shed sleep and give you a wary look. his heart skip a beat when his hands reach out and don't bump into you to pull you to him, calling your name in the dark. he finds you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen and calms down; for a moment he thinks you've left. he can't help it, he's afraid you'll not be there when he wakes up. so you comfort him, and promise him you won't leave. so that night, he falls into a deep sleep.

for chenle, it's difficult for him to admit that he's fallen asleep. his eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake because he likes to hear you talk, but your voice gradually begins to lower making him lose ground against sleep. he also, has a habit of lying that he didn't fall asleep while you were talking. and it doesn't matter if you don't make noise, or if you stay still in hopes for him to have sweet dreams, he always battles against it until you start to get drowsy too, listening to you and the soft babble until you give in and draw him to you, asking him to meet you in his dreams.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

never truly gone

words: 2k

alternative universe where rafe was the one to fake his death instead of ward

warnings: funeral, discussions of death and grief, established relationship, murder confession (canon murder), implications of smut (no actual sex)

you are barely tuned in to the words being spoken at the funeral, lost in the haze of grief. dressed in the same outfit you wore for your one year anniversary with rafe. it was his favorite. was. the word hits you like a ton of bricks.

it didn't feel real for the longest time, part of it still doesn't, the feeling in your gut that your boyfriend isn't truly gone, but as you pick your head up and look around, you realize you have to get over the stage of denial.

“are you okay?” your mom whispers, reaching over to squeeze your hand. you rip it immediately out of her grip. of course you're not okay. who could be after their first love, their high school sweetheart, blew up?

“now is the time that we invite anyone who would like to say a few words up to the mic.” the pastor says, looking out into the crowd, members of rafes family having already spoken.

ward turns around to look at you. he invited you to sit in the front row when you first arrived, but you didn't want that kind of attention, your every reaction being scrutinized, if you’re crying too much, or not reacting enough.

“would you like to speak y/n?” 

you look at the crumpled, tear stained piece of paper with some words scribbled on it.

“i-i don't know if i can.” you admit. ward seemed so strong when he spoke, the same pillar of community he seems to be when speaking at town halls or midsummers.

“whatever you say, im sure rafe would appreciate it.”

you nod, take a deep breath, then stand. your mind seems to blur as you walk to the front, the pastor greeting you with a soft hug then leading you to the podium.

you clear your throat before looking down at the paper. 

“i never imagined a life without you. you were the first man i ever loved and i can't… i can't see myself ever having that same love again. we changed each other so much. we went from kids to young adults planning out their life together. i love you so much, rafe. i always will no matter how much time passes.” you vow.

your next words turn robotic, talking about the family he left behind, his accomplishments, things that don't actually matter to you but you know should be said. you recount the five years you were together, knowing someone is no doubt scoffing at how little it is, but it was your whole world.

you manage to hold in your sobs until you sit back down. you spend the rest of the funeral with your head down, unable to look at the pictures hung around the church.

-- 2 months later --

you let out a groan as you turn over in bed, not wanting to wake up, wanting to spend another day rotting under the covers.

“it's almost noon.” your mom says, peaking in to the door.

“yeah.” you say, sniffling as you see the photo on your nightstand when you go to look at your alarm clock. you can't bring yourself to move it, even if it makes you cry every time you see rafes smiling face. “i know.”

“maybe we could go out to dinner. or order some pizza? you need to eat, baby.” you know your mom is just looking out for you, but the thought of food makes you feel sick, eating at this point when your stomach truly needs it.

“yeah, maybe.” you pick your phone up off the nightstand and unplug it. “im gonna take a shower and get dressed.”

“that's good.” your mom says. “i love you, y/n.”

“love you too mama.” you pause for a beat when she doesn't shut your door. “thank you.”

you mom nods before exiting. you open up your phone to the gallery that causes you as much pain as it has joy, flicking through your final photos with rafe before sighing and getting up to shower with him fresh in your mind, determined to not forget a single thing about him.

--

you're about to go to sleep, pass out and hopefully not dream of anything. you went out for dinner like you promised your mom, trying to keep a brave face for her. she didn't even mention anything when you came back from an extended trip to the bathroom with tear stains on your cheeks and red eyes.

you grab your phone, swallowing harshly to stop yourself from crying again as you click on your messages, rafes contact still pinned to the top. 

you click on your messages. the last text was rafe saying he loved you. you never got to text him back, but you know he was aware of how much you loved him.

you scroll back for a bit, smiling at his jokes even with the tears in your eyes.

you lock your phone and place it on your chest, looking up at the glittering stars through your skylight. “i miss you so much, rafe. why'd you have to leave me?”

your phone vibrates. you almost ignore it, not caring who it could be from, you've practically ditched all your friends, hoping they won't hold it against you when you finally feel good enough to hang out again, if that time ever comes.

something in you makes you pause when you go to plug your phone in, makes you hesitate and open up the text.

baby, im so sorry. please meet me outside, im at your dock.

love, rafe

you frown at the text from the unknown number, considering ignoring the obvious prank as you fling off your covers, body now fueled with rafe, but when you look out the window, there is an unfamiliar boat tied to your dock.

you slip on your shoes, not really thinking of a plan as you head outside, rushing through the yard to find out whoever is playing tricks on you.

the moon barely lights your steps as you stomp down the wooden dock until you're close enough from the boat for them to hear you and far enough from your house to not wake up your mom.

“this isn't fucking funny!” you scream. “whoever is pranking me, you're fucked up!”

a figure steps out of the boat and onto your dock. it takes your eyes a second to adjust, to really take in what you're seeing, to know it's reality.

“n-no.” you take a staggering step back. “im-im seeing things.”

“it's really me, baby.” the word hits you like a bullet as you fall to your knees, not caring that they dig into the wood. “i can explain everything but-but can i touch you? ive missed you so goddamn much.”

“this isn't real. you're- you're dead. im dreaming.”

rafe moves closer, dropping to his knees as well and pulling you into a tight hug. it isn't until he touches you that you know that it's not a dream, hes real and warm against you.

“oh, god.” you begin to sob, clutching onto rafe, clambering closer to him, climbing onto his lap and hugging him so tightly it's like your bodies could become one.

“im so fucking sorry baby. i love you. i love you so much.”

“i love you.” you sob, pulling back to look rafe in the eye. “i-i love you and you can never leave me again.”

you'll demand answers later, but now you're just happy your initial gut instinct was right, your boyfriend is right here, alive and well.

“can i kiss you? you're probably pissed at me but-”

you don't wait for rafe to finishing, surging forward and smashing your lips against his, all the passion and feelings of the past two months without him, but also the past five years of love, put into your bodies as you kiss under the moonlight.

“baby-” rafe gasps after a minute. “i-i need to get back on the boat. just in case i’m seen. come with me.”

“okay.” you're not sure what it means, but you're not going to let rafe out of your sight.

rafe climbs onto the boat before helping you, hand carefully stroking over yours as he leads you into the cabin.

“did you tell anyone that i messaged you?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and pulling you to his side.

“no.” you shake your head. “my mom doesn't even know.”

“that's good.” rafe nods. “i faked my death.”

“i can tell.” you giggle, unable to keep away for much longer as you press your lips against his in a quick peck before curiosity has your tongue loosening. “how? why?”

“my dad planned it for me. the boat was rigged to explode and i went and suited up in scuba gear. the why…” rafe hesitates for a moment, and you can read every emotion on his face.

“just tell me.” you say. “you can't hurt me. you can't make me mad at you, not when i just got you back.”

“i killed sheriff peterkin.” rafe swallows harshly. “it was to protect my dad, but of course nobody would believe me.”

“i believe you.” you tell rafe, tucking your head into his neck. “that must have been so scary, but i know how you'd do anything to protect the people you love.”

“my dad didn't want me to tell you at all. i agreed to wait until after it happened, but it all moved so fast, and when i got to where i was supposed to hide out for a while, i realized i had no way of contacting you. i had to steal a phone and this boat and leave the safehouse.”

“what's the plan now then?” you ask.

“have you come back to the safehouse with me. it's in the caribbean, on a gorgeous island. i will provide everything you need, we won't have to hide there.”

“and what will i tell my family? tell everyone?”

“well, your mom loves me.” rafe smiles, knowing he's right. “i think we can trust her to keep the secret. as for everyone else… maybe you just need some time away from the outer banks after what happened. maybe some cousins in michigan or something?”

“whatever.” you shake your head. “i just need to be with you.”

-- one week later --

“when you said safe house…” you look around the mansion. “this is not what i was picturing.”

“the locals here think im a cousin of the cameron family. allows me to stay here without much suspicion. i do keep a low profile and stay out of touristy areas just in case, but we can do whatever you want here. the ocean is right outside our doorstep.”

“and money? do i need to get a job?” you've never worked before, having grown up wealthy, but you're willing to do anything to keep your life going with rafe, having told your mom who didn't believe you until rafe stepped into the room. she saw the spark in your eyes and recognized it as the same one in hers when she looked at your father, and her time was also cut short when he passed young.

she made you promise to call and to let her visit every couple months, just enough to not be suspicious.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “my dad funnels me money. cash, so no one gets suspicious.”

“honestly, i could just stay forever in the house and in the backyard.” you laugh, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“my dad will figure something out eventually, i don't expect you to hide for the rest of your life.”

“okay.” you shrug. now that you're with rafe, you don't care. you're going to be happy no matter what after feeling the pain of losing him.

“there is one more room i want to show you…” rafe picks you up, your legs slotting around his waist like nothing ever happened. 

you laugh as you kiss his neck, knowing exactly where he's taking you.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

[runawaycarouselhorse]

What made both her sacrifice for her team mates’ happiness in Pocket Monsters (2019)/Pokemon Journeys episode 95 and the fact that she thought this would be her end more poignant for me is that being completely alone is what Musashi hates the most. She lost her (single) mother as a child and was never adopted, going from foster home to foster home... ;_;

After many failures (like being unable to graduate from a school meant to train literal Pokemon Nurses, because she couldn’t do what Chansey do, despite studying hard and being adept at skills like bandaging…) and having her heart broken and being disappointed (she let a boy she loved go alone so she can pursue idol dreams with some friends, who all made it… without her, so she lost a possible love for an impossible dream)…

She couldn’t bond with her partners and left them to be injured, just to save herself, during her training days at Team Rocket. She’d become selfish and self-preserving… in the Japanese version, the others called her “shinigami Musashi” according to Yamato (Cassidy), likening her to a reaper of souls… but James refused to run away, sick of living a life where he ran away from all his problems. He’d sacrifice himself for her and Meowth’s safety, getting badly injured and nearly missing their final exam, hospitalized. The first time they uttered the beginning of their motto was when she believed she was all alone again, much like in this scene… the Rockets in the Japanese version repeat the last thing someone else says as if to answer a question (the “nanda kanda to kikare tara” = “if you ask us about this or that” is mostly filler that could be substituted with anything else.)

Musashi (Jessie): (dejectedly, as she walks away alone as the final exam begins, even being questioned by Nyasu/Meowth where she’s going): Is this all that there is…?

Kojiro (James): (answering while leaning posed against a tree, covered in bandages, but they were only wrapped over his clothes so he could whip them off dramatically) If you ask us 'if this is all that there is,' our answer will be the universe’s compassion!

She’s so moved, she turns away to wipe her tears. “A team mate who won’t run away…”

I think that’s the first time they ever see her cry.

Jessie desperately wants family, belonging, that’s why she falls in love so quickly, she wants a family more than anything—James had everything material growing up, but not love… Musashi had near to nothing material growing up, BUT she had her mother’s love… until she lost her very, very early. They contrast each other! They’re soul mates, eternal partners, whether you ship them or not. Meowth, too, was orphaned as a kitten, never even named, and an outcast his whole life. He's also always falling in love easily, seeking a home... the trio should never be separated, they are each other’s sought-for home.

I think the falling snow in this scene, where she runs off in tears, after wearing a brave smile and telling James it’s okay to stay with Cassidy, is a very deliberate choice, as Jessie loves snow. One of her few happy memories of her depressing childhood is being made treats made of snow to eat. She unknowingly lost her mother in the snowy Andes mountains, seeking Mew, put into foster care, while Miyamoto tried to make money to give her a better life... glittering snow and sparkling tears…

For Meowth too, she lets him go. She just wants everyone to have their chance at love.

So, her believing she’ll end up dying alone, as she’s always feared, Musashi here laments her luck, but also has a beautiful little dream of her friends saving her.

Once again, similarly to the break-up episode of DP, she was the one who calmly and gently encouraged James to pursue a possible love. She also broke Dustox’s pokeball, in tears, not wanting her to make the same mistake she did, giving up on an attainable love for an unattainable goal (and, indeed, Jessie did not win the Grand Festival, despite her skill at Pokemon Contests… she made the right decision for Dustox’s happiness.)

Jessie loves her friends. Sure, she’s caustic, rude, temperamental, bitter, and self-absorbed, but she prioritizes love and their happiness. She doesn’t want them to be alone and abandoned the way she felt as a kid. She loves them so much so, she’s satisfied to die alone and suffer her worst fear if it meant they get to be happy. That’s self-sacrifice.

She doesn’t resent them one bit, saying it’s a nice dream when she thinks she’s imagined them saving her life… she thought it was her mind comforting her before her death, accepting her fate, rather than realizing it’s effectively a premonition of what will be reality… and when she realizes?! She initially reproaches them, looking mad, because she thought they abandoned their happiness for her! But no, things didn’t work out… this is where they’re meant to be: by each other’s side.

James also knows how much marriage means to her, even though he’s so traumatized by it, the word “fiance” triggers literal flashbacks for him and he climbed up a tree to get away from a teenaged girl who called him that. Yet, in XY episode 63, where she fell for Dr. White...

Kojiro: (with head down, eyes shadowed) If Musashi (Jessie) wants to pursue her happiness as a woman, shouldn't we give her our blessing?

Nyasu also had his misfortunes in love... they sympathize and empathize.

"Let's show her we're men and leave without saying anything..."

As Kojiro runs away, he sheds tears, wishing her happiness and bidding her farewell, silently. The scenes in these two episodes are clear parallels.

But in the end (including the final episodes, as rushed as that plotline was although I still loved Wobbuffet acting exactly like a troubled child of parents going through a messy divorce), they’ll always realize their happiness is by each other’s side as a trio.

"Sometimes you get good pulls, sometimes you get bad ones. Sometimes they're good, even if you think they're bad. Sometimes they're bad, even if you think they're good."

[the-faceless-bride]

Some Of my current ideas and obsession Blurbs (if you find any of them interesting, I'm open to hearing ideas 👀👀)

Part 2 ->

Imagine being a demon...

Imagine Part of your power has to do with death, corruption, and seeing who someone was when they were alive... as a demon, the death of Rengoku Kyojuro broke you. He was such a beautiful, loving, caring man. Giving such an unfair and unfortunate death... you just couldn't accept this...

Imagine You bring him back as he springs up after your ritual. His hair was a mess, covered in dirt, his clothes ripped. He gasps for air as if it was the first he's had in centuries... "Poor unfortunate soul, so sad, in need... come allow me to give you a second chance."

Imagine His horror. Him. Now a Demon. Tethered to you. Unable to die again unless you give him permission to do so... he tired. Sat in the sun. But while he felt weak and itchy, he didn't die. He hated it. Hated himself. He hated you. You who, while yes, didn't have malicious intent. Who gave him a second chance at 'life' as you called this... you who brought him back and unlike when he was alive in his final moments felt no pain, no hunger, he hated you.

Imagine slowly helping him come to terms with his eternal life. From Enemies (one sided) to Lovers letting him stay with you in your small hidden village of other demon families that have also been brought back and tethered to you. Still fulfilling his dreams, taking down the demons who "lost their humanity and deserved their eternity to end."

Imagine the conflict you face, when His once friends and found family find him... a demon... still classic Kyojuro but yet so different... what do you do? An angry group of Hashira Pillars cursing you for what you did to their friend. Kyojuro broken and ashamed of what he is once more at the heart break of his friends being scared of him, some of them hating him all together...

Imagine him calling out to you, help him. Make them listen. Please. His Angel... his little firefly... please make them understand. He can't bare the way they look at him... help him... he needs you.

Rengoku Kyojuro × demon Reader Trope: Enemies to lovers

Now also Imagine being a demon...

Imagine being a demon who was so desperately, hopelessly, in love with Gyomei Himejima. Hopelessly devoted to a man who didn't even know you existed. You watched him at night, singing your sweet song and lulling him to a deeper sleep each night. Wishing nothing more than to one day be able to caress and memorize every inch of his mind, body, and soul. Wishing to kiss his soft looking lips...

Imagine desperately trying to deny what you know is true... you've heard it from your fellow demon 'friend' over and over again. And tonight, you were desperately trying to hold on to your dreams... "[name] just face it... he's a Demon slayer. A hashira. And to him, you're a monster... that something no amount of love is going to change. You'd be better off not thinking about him anymore. If you really love him, you'd let him go... besides a pretty human girl will probably catch his attention sooner or later..." You hang your head as tears fill your eyes, it's not true... it's not. He could love you. He could...

Imagine one day, you run into him in the Forest. The Forrest trees are so thick that the completely block out the sun, it's only a small section of the Forest. You liked to come here to lay in the flowers, and apparently Gyomei had thought the same...

Imagine He needed a quiet place, today had been a very hectic day. No peace and quiet today at all. He'd simply sat under a particularly large tree, focusing on his breath. You'd sat so unbelievably still. Not wanting to move and risk ruining this perfect moment. You were so close. You'd never been this close to him before and it made every part of your cold body ache.

Imagine accidently rustling the flowers catching his attention instantly, and he jumps to stand in a defensive position. You quickly kneel head pressing to the ground as you apologize for disturbing him, and not wanting any trouble. But oddly he doesn't attack you and instead he apologizes for startling you. At first you were confused. But then it clicked, you Had not attacked him like a demon would. He's blind. He doesn't yet realize you're a demon... this was it. Your chance. To speak to him. To hear him address you... to hear him say your name...

Imagine Pretending to be human, making it seem like you were a measly human girl who came here to sit in the flowers to relax... and this was how it went for some time... days turn to weeks, and weeks turn into months. You'd been keeping this secret of yours for 3 months, your love for Gyomei stronger and flame of obsession brighter. And he'd become so open to you. Telling you almost eveeything... sure you'd felt guilty lying to him... but you just couldn't let him. Go...

Imagine one evening, the sun setting, the fireflies and the colorful flowers surrounding you... you gain the courage to confess... stilling your heart of how much you admire him, you know that he way not feel the same way... but even if he'll never belong to you... that's OK, you are happy to just dream and be his dear friend... but to your shock and joy he accepts your confession. He's gained feelings for you. You could almost cry... but then... in an instant the happiness... your happily ever after was ripped away from you in an unfortunate series of events "Dearest... your hands are so cold..." - "GYOMEI!" A his friend Mitsuri calls out her foot steps quickly approaching, more footsteps following behind. "AWAY DISGUSTING MONSTER!" she cries her sword just barley missing you as your arm is severed clean off. And instantly Gyomei's face goes through so many emotions... worry, Confusion, shock and finally realization... and he let's you go. You dash away vanishing... "Gyomei! Are you ok?! That awful creature tricked you! She must've planned to devower you then and there if I hadn't noticed your absence! Are you OK my friend!?" The sounds of other Confused voices all speaking over each other planning to find you... Gyomei thinks of her question... is he OK?... honestly... he doesn't know...

Gyomei Himejima × Demon Reader Trope: unrequited love/Forbidden love

[little-diable]

Professor Malfoy – Prof!Draco Malfoy (smut)

At least y/n can experience all my professor phantasies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us motivated. Enjoy my loves! xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Malfoy's TA, a man she had been crushing on ever since meeting him at Hogwarts all these years ago; but kind of just pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (m), some face fucking, professor x ta

Pairing: Professor Draco Malfoy x fem!ta!reader (1.8k words)

“Here, let me take that.” Professor Malfoy’s voice rang in her ears, watching his hand reach out to take the books (y/n) was carrying. All she could do was nod her head, unable to speak up with the man standing this close. Could he hear her racing heartbeat? Could he tell that she was awfully nervous?

“Coffee?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to speak up, still not used to being this close to the man she was working for. (Y/n) had to clear her throat, slowly nodding her head as she stepped into his office. The door fell shut with a soft thud, a sound that finally managed to rip (y/n) out of her state, the ice was slowly melting, it allowed her to relax, to move without overthinking her every step. “Here you go.”

Professor Malfoy placed the cup down on the coffee table, watching (y/n) sink down on the all too comfortable couch. She didn't pick up on the smile tugging on his lips, didn’t pick up on the soft glance he shot her way, tongue kissing his teeth. He shuffled around, reached for the papers they still needed to grade, wordlessly sitting down next to (y/n). 

 “Do you have another pen for me? I think I lost mine somewhere.” (Y/n) thumbed through her bag, unable to find the red pen she had been using the past weeks. The two have built some kind of routine, after he was done with teaching his classes, where she’d support him whenever students asked questions, they found their way to his office, spending hours on end in the quiet room. 

“Here, take mine.” Their fingers touched for a few seconds, a touch that shot shudders down her spine, pupils dilating as her body clung to the sensation. Fuck, she needed to get a grip, need to get over the crush she had fostered on the man for years. The two had met at Hogwarts years ago, barely sharing a word, since he was older and couldn’t care less about the younger students. But (y/n) had always found herself drawn to him, wanting to get to know him, wanting to feel his eyes on her – mere dreams she hadn’t been able to shake ever since their first run in at this university.

A comfortable silence engulfed the two, allowing (y/n) to relax even further into the couch, shuffling around to make herself comfortable. She didn’t notice the way his eyes ran up and down her frame, didn’t notice the smile he wore as he reached for her shoulder, giving her a soft push to pull her down to his lap, head resting on his thigh. (Y/n) looked up at him with wide eyes, not daring to move as he redirected his gaze to the papers he was reading. 

Heat flushed through her, no longer able to focus on the papers she was supposed to grade. Her mind fully focused on the feeling of his thumb stroking the exposed part of her shoulder, making goosebumps rise on her skin. It took her a few more seconds to rip her eyes away from his handsome face, teeth buried in her lower lip as her shaky hands tightened their grip on the papers.

“You know,” he murmured his words, placing down his papers to fully direct his attention down onto (y/n). “Ever since I saw you in one of my classes, I wondered if we’d ever cross paths again.”

“Did you? I didn’t think you’d ever notice me.” A soft laugh left (y/n), hands also placing down the papers. He kept stroking her skin, hand slowly wandering down her arm, to her fingers. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) felt him interlace their fingers, making her heart skip a handful of beats. The professor’s free hand found her face, cupping her cheek, with his gaze flickering between her curious eyes and her lips. She didn’t dare move, patiently waiting for him to do something, to give into the pull both were clearly taken hostage by. 

His thumb found her mouth, softly tracing her lips. Draco didn’t expect her to part her lips, sucking his digit into her mouth – a movement that forced his eyes to darken. Before she could even begin to understand what he was doing, he had pulled her into a sitting position, lips clashing against hers without another warning.

It felt like her world had suddenly stopped spinning, everything was on hold, allowing (y/n) to fully focus on the feeling of his lips moving against hers. The kiss was spurred on by their longing, by the stolen glances they had shared over the past months, by their desires they hadn’t acted on till this very moment. 

“If you only knew about the things you are doing to me.” He murmured his words against her lips, groaning into her mouth as her hands found his neck, tugging on his blonde roots. Their tongues met, battling a war of lust, of longing, a war both were determined to win. She crawled into his lap without breaking the kiss, clinging to him as if he was her lifeline, rescuing her from drowning in the cold, dark ocean. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” (Y/n)’s confession forced a smirk onto his lips, hands finding her thighs, moving up her legs to disappear beneath her skirt. All she could do was to keep still, holding her breath as his fingers found her soaked panties, meeting her covered, pulsing bundle of nerves. His eyes didn’t dare break contact as he raised his eyebrows, wordlessly waiting for her consent, not wanting to keep on touching her without hearing (y/n) speak the words. “Please, touch me, wherever you want to touch me.”

A satisfied hum left the man, fingers successfully pushing her panties aside. (Y/n)’s quiet moans rang in his ears as he teased her clit, rubbing the soft spot to push forceful waves of anticipation through her. She tried to shuffle closer, wanting to feel more of him, desperate for him to own her body and soul. His cold fingers felt unfamiliar on her skin, a touch she had been aching for ever since she had first seen him, wondering how and if he’d ever pull her closer. 

(Y/n)’s hands found their way down his chest, to his black trousers, toying with the silver buckle of his belt. A groan left the man as she freed his twitching cock, carefully grasping him in her hands. Draco watched her with amazement swimming in his pupils, gaze torn between her fingers and her features. He kept moving his thumb, forcing moans out of her whenever he added more pressure, trying to bite down the need to bury his cock inside of her. But (y/n) seemed to fight the same battle, pulling him in for another teeth clashing kiss. 

“Professor,” the word was whimpered against his lips, leaving him to hum, waiting for (y/n) to keep on talking. “Fuck me, please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Something inside of him seemed to snap, pushing her off his lap and back against the couch, hovering above her. The sound of her panties being torn apart rang in her ears, forcing a gasp out of (y/n) that momentarily distracted her from the feeling of his cock being aligned with her entrance. He sank into her all too effortlessly, forcing her walls to clench around him, needing to adjust to his size. The both of them needed a few seconds before Draco started to move, balancing his frame with one hand placed on the armrest of the couch and the other holding her thigh. 

(Y/n) tightened the grip her legs had on his waist, keeping him as close as possible, not wanting to part from him ever again. Draco fucked her without holding back, sinking deeper into her tightness with every passing thrust, set on making her forget about their surroundings.

The sweetest sounds left (y/n), fingernails leaving marks on his neck, set on marking him up, set on claiming him with her heart beating in sync with his. Both tried to keep their sounds to a minimum, not daring to catch the attention of the people walking past his office, and yet they struggled to do so, connecting their lips again to swallow their sounds.

She choked on his name, eyes rolling back into her head as he nudged her swollen spot, grinning in victory about finding the spot that would push her into her orgasms' open arms. (Y/n) sneaked one hand between them, rubbing her clit to give in, to follow the call of the sensation she had been aching for for years.

“I got you, pretty girl, let go for me.” Draco felt her walls clamp down on his cock, telling him that she was about to cum, set on fucking her through her high before he’d give in. He watched her fall apart, watched the pleasure-drunken expression tug on her features as he kept burying his cock inside her tightness. It was a moment he’d never forget, Draco was sure of it, mind and heart fully taken over by her.

Draco pulled away from her before he could cum inside of her, groaning in surprise as her hand reached for his cock, shuffling around to put her mouth on him. Their eyes found back together as she slightly nodded, allowing the moaning man to fuck her mouth. She gagged around him, clawed her fingernails into his thighs, taking every inch he forced down her throat.

He twitched in her mouth a few seconds before he came, filling her cheeks with his cum, allowing a deep, raspy moan to claw through him. She greedily swallowed every drop, humming around him, wordlessly thanking him for what had just happened. 

Draco parted from her with a grin, tugging himself back into his trousers, watching (y/n) reach for her torn panties, unable to stop a huff from leaving her. His chuckles forced her to give into her own laughter clawing through her, pulled back into his open arms with a kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth.

“We really need to finish these papers, but I don’t think I can concentrate knowing you’re not wearing any panties now.” 

“And whose fault is this, huh?”

[aerynwrites]

Baldur’s Gate 3 Masterlist

Halsin

Longing || part 2 - NSFW. Reader has been pining after Halsin for a while now but has hesitated to make a move due to her inexperience, little does she know - a certain Druid might just feel the same and is more than willing to show her.

Remember - A drunken night leads to confessions and Halsin still being a gentleman.

Not alone - Reader is feeling overwhelmed with the responsibilities of being the defacto leader. Halsin tries to show them they don’t have to bear the weight alone. (Requested)

Scars - Reader hates the scars they bare, but Halsin shows them that there is nothing to be ashamed of.

Lover’s Embrace - NSFW. An alchemical mishap puts reader in a situation she’s not expecting, and as usual, Halsin is there to help. aka - reader accidentally creates an aphrodisiac potion and Halsin helps her through the after effects.

Dance The Night Away - Tav/reader gets a chance to finally show off a dress she acquired some time ago, something Halsin greatly appreciates as they dance.

Cherished - NSFW! A/B/O fic with omega!fem!reader. Reader has been on supressants for years only to be faced with the ordeal of an unexpected and intense heat when she loses her supply. Halsin is there to help.

Loss - reader mourns the loss of a beloved pet. Halsin is there to comfort them. (Based on a request)

Losing You - You get injured in battle and Halsin finally feels a fear he hasn’t felt in quite some time, a confession he makes to you as he nurses you back to health.

Reciprocation - NSFW! Reader notices that Halsin is usually the one to give during intimacy, this time, reader decides to return the favor.

Mistaken Identity - the reader meets a bear in the woods, unbeknownst to her this bear is the same Druid she has a crush on.

Desire - based on a request for breeding kink with Halsin

Whittle Mistakes - Reader injures themself while Halsin teaches them to Whittle.

Peaceful Moments - Reader and Halsin spend a quiet moment together.

It's About The Chase - NSFW! In a ritual to bring them closer, Halsin chases reader through the woods. I think we can all guess what happens when he catches her.

Send Me an Angel (Halsin x Fem!angle!Reader)

After witnessing an angel fall from the sky, Halsin takes it upon himself to nurse her back to health. But as the days go by, the shadow curse still prevails, and he starts to find out there’s more than meets the eye with his new Angel companion.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Gale Dekarios

Late Nights - Gale has slipped away from you in the middle of the night - again - so, it’s your duty to bring him back to your side.

Unexpected, but Not Unwelcome - Reader announces she’s pregnant to Gale, he reacts in the best way possible.

Perks of The City - NSFW! Gale and Reader take part in all the city has to offer. Aka: they fuck in a bathhouse

Make it Right - Durge!Reader is struggling with finding out their past and their part in the absolute plot, their companions turning away from them. They decide to do go after Orin to make it right.

Masquerade of Liars - Gale and Reader take their son out to celebrate a traditional Waterdeep holiday (aka the forgotten realms version of Halloween!)

Worthy - reader/tav feels like they aren’t worthy of Gale. He’s quick to tell them otherwise.

Lost for Words - reader tried on the Wavemother Robe and shows off the new item to Gale who, well…he’s lost for words.

Dreams Become Reality - NSFW! reader has a rather…debauched dream and wakes Gale up. Good thing he’s curious and willing to satiate your fantasies.

Astarion x Halsin

Worries and Doubts - On a quiet afternoon in the forest, Astarion starts to have doubts about the future. Halsin is there to comfort him.

Love Lost - Halsin was unable to sway Astarion from ascending and now…Now he’s left to try and reconcile his love for the man he knew and the vampire lord before him now.

Dammon

Emeralds - You’ve been pinning after Dammon for quite some time now, little do you know the blacksmith feels the same way.

Fear of Losing You - (part 2 of emeralds) Reader stumbles upon the tiefling massacre in the shadow cursed lands and assumes the worst.

Bound by The Heart (and other things) - you stumble upon one of Dammon’s more…lewd books, and find out something he’s wanted to try. You eagerly volunteer.

Rolan

Freckles - you spend the morning admiring Rolan as he sleeps.

Headcanons

Halsin and Gale with Reader who tries pheromone perfume

Love languages with Gale and Dammon (SFW and NSFW)

Physical Touch and Gift Giving w/ Gale, Halsin and Dammon

Halsin as a New Dad

Dammon with a plus size S/O

Halsin and Reader Post Game

[wosoamazing]

A New Chapter

Y/N Williamson Epilogue?? (My last fic before I refresh my page/content...)

IMPORTANT: This fic involves a heterosexual relationship between R and a Fictional character... If this is something you don't want to read I suggest you move on. WARNINGS: bad injury (hip), mentions of hospitals and surgery, moving away, rehab, heterosexual relationships, some swearing, periods, endometriosis, vomit/mentions of, being scared to return home, mild sickness, kids?, hints/links to miscarriage (not everyone will notice), suggestive?? - it's long so there are a lot, I have tried to list them in order, however if you do really want to read it but you can't bc of some of the warnings message me and I can see if I can cut that part of the story out for you. A/N: Not properly edited yet, I will edit it later - so sorry if any mistakes. Also sorry if the second half of it feels rushed, it was getting so long but I may have accidentally rushed it trying to make it not insanely long... (Word Count: 7462 - be prepared, hopefully it's not boring)

Your dream of playing in an Olympics Final came crashing down 15 minutes into the Matildas’ opening match of the tournament. A corner had been given, Steph kicked it in and the next second you were on the ground in agony, it seemed to happen in fast forward for you. However for Leah, who was watching at home, the moment unfolded so agonisingly slowly, she saw Frohms place a hand on your shoulder restricting you from jumping, as Oberdorf jumped into the air behind you, if it wasn't for Frohms’ hand on your shoulder the goal could’ve been yours, she was angry and hoped the ref had picked up on it, however she wasn’t angry for long, as she saw the trajectory Oberdorf was coming down on, her jump slightly too high meaning she lost control. Time slowed to an almost stop as Leah froze sat in front of the TV, watching as Oberdorfs midsection completely landed on top of your left shoulder, she almost felt her heart stop as she saw your left leg brace, watching as it popped out from the force of Oberdorfs head hitting your thigh, causing you to completely crumple onto the ground. Thankfully the players around reacted quick enough to grab onto Oberdorf and flip her, otherwise your injury wouldn’t have been the worst, and something unimaginable could’ve happened. She saw your body jolt as you were turned onto your back, the look on your face along with the scream you let out indicating your hip most likely popped back into place. The full weight of it all occurred seconds later when a phone was brought onto the pitch and steph did something on it, Leah’s phone started to ring.

“Leah, she,” Steph breathed out not knowing what to say

“I know. I saw. Can I talk to her?” Leah asked before hearing some shuffling from the other end, watching Steph crouch down next to you on the TV.

“Le-ah,” your voice came across the phone, it was full of pain and fear, Leah was honestly surprised you hadn’t passed out from the pain yet, but maybe you were running on adrenaline or shook, all she was certain about was that she needed to be there for you, in one way or another.

“Hi bug, you’re doing so well, being so brave. They are going to take good care of you, I promise. I love you so so much, and I’ll be there very soon, you’ve got this bug,” she told you before Steph took the phone back to her ear as the medics needed to move you, “we’re coming, our flight is in like an hour, we are actually about to leave now,” she informed her club teammate as she watched her fiance leave the bedroom wheeling a suitcase behind her.

______

You were immediately taken into surgery, where they did x-rays and scans. You woke up a few hours later surrounded by machines, unable to feel your left leg, but your left shoulder and torso ached badly, but quickly you noticed Steph, Sam, Leah, Lia and Alexia all sitting around the white washed sterile room. The people who you looked up to in your life and who inspired you, all in a hospital room, to be there for you, for some it meant taking time out of their teams olympic tournament. Maybe even risking unfair punishment and her mental health for one. For two others it meant getting on a plane last minute, dropping all other plans, including the IVF appointment they had waited a year for, not knowing when the next one would be, willingly letting go of their hope to have kids in the near future for you. In that moment you realised how much you meant to them, never before had the meaning of you to them been so tangible, they meant the universe and more to you, but maybe you meant ever more than that to them.

Leah noticed your eyes open and moved beside your bed, “Hey bug, how are you feeling?” she said ever so softly, and you just blinked groggily at her as she leant in to kiss your forehead mumbling “I love you very much,” before her hands moved to cup your face and her thumbs wiped away the silent tears that had started to fall from your eyes. The others all got up and left not only to find a doctor but give you two a moment of privacy.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to see you awake, I’m Dr NAME and this is Dr NAME, we were the two surgeons who operated on you,” one of the doctors spoke as they walked in, smiling at you, you kind of nodded at them and watched as their gaze turned to Leah before going through your chart, “and you’re Leah,” she nodded at them. “Okay so,” he started talking but you were too tired to listen and zoned out, hearing the words, dislocated, hairline fracture, Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral. You would eventually come to find those are the things that happened to your, during the fall your tore your  Iliofemoral and Pubofemoral ligaments, which then meant when Oberdorf’s head hit your thigh it was a lot easier for your hip to dislocate which it did, you had a hairline fracture in your femoral neck but it was unknown which mechanics of the injury caused that, sometimes they would insert a pin but as yours was only small and you were young, they didn’t, it also meant they likelihood of you returning to football was higher, however you still would most likely never return.

You were stuck in Paris until the end of the tournament, the risk of you flying back home versus the ‘risk’ of you staying there were incomparable and so you and your crutches, along with your bandaged hip, sporting the equivalent of a hinged knee brace but for a hip over your leggings, were dragged along to the final match, the first time you had been in the public's eye properly since your injury. You were dreading this match for multiple reasons. It meant you would be in the media’s sight, and you would also have to interact with the people you had been ignoring. But even more it meant you had to watch your teammates and ‘family’ get to do the one thing you had ever dreamt of, the thing that was almost never going to happen now. You stood alongside Sam during the national anthem, wearing an official match jersey, your own name on your back, as a tear rolled down your cheek, which after the anthem Sam wiped away before hugging you tightly. She understood the pain to some extent, however she knew well and truly before the olympics started the team could make it to the final and she would be standing on the sidelines, for you it was different, you should’ve been on that pitch today, if it wasn’t for your injury you would’ve been starting, as the main forward, but that didn;t matter now, you would probably never start for the matildas or any football club/team again, she knew it, the team knew it, the world knew it, you even knew it, you just didn’t want to have to face that reality.

The whistle blew and every single member of the Australian’s on the sidelines got up and sprinted onto the pitch, except you, every single A.O.C football personal was on the pitch celebrating, but you weren’t. You couldn't, you couldn’t get up, but that's not the reason you were not on the pitch, you didn’t want to be, you didn’t deserve to be.

The next second the whole bench shook, Kyra had catapulted herself into the row of seats in front of you, you looked up, her face shiny from sweat, holding the world's biggest grin, “come join us,” you just shook your head, “I can help, I’ll be sensible and careful. Please?” she begged, causing a tear to roll down your cheek, causing her face to quickly drop as she moved to hug you, making you cry more, causing more girls to start to filter over to you, all leaving with dampened moods, all having failed attempts at cheering you up and failing to convince you to join them. All celebrating as they walked across the stage receiving their medals, whilst they lifted the trophy, but the pain in their eyes was evident, you watched Kyra bite her nail nervously as she looked into your direction, you were still sat in you seat, having refused to collect your medal, you played 15 minutes you didn’t deserve it. You burdened the team, Steph spent way too long laying awake in her bed, the moment replaying in her head everytime she closed her eyes. Kyra cried herself to sleep almost every night, she missed you, you might’ve been with them physically but that was it, she knew she would have to go back to Arsenal without you and most likely never play with you again and that hurt her. Macca couldn’t shake the feeling of horror that ran through her body as she heard your scream so loud and clear from the other end of the pitch, she hadn’t even had her hearing aids in and yet it sounded like you were inside her ear. If anything the team had won in spite of you, you had in no way helped them get there, you were the cause for their pain, you didn’t deserve a medal at all.

“Bebita,” Alexia said softly as she bobbed down in front of you, “No,” you harshly snapped at her, “Et mereixes una medalla, les vas aconseguir aquí i vas formar part de l'equip sigui el que passi. (You deserve a medal, you got them here and you were part of the team no matter what),” you just shook your head at her, “Bé, doncs, almenys deixa'm agafar el teu i guardar-lo segur per a tu, per quan el vulguis després. (Well then at least let me take yours and keep it safe for you, for when you want it later.)” you shrugged your shoulders and so she placed your medal around her neck, for you. Before pulling you into a tight hug and not letting go for a very long time. The no you said to Alexia had been the last word you spoke to anyone before flying back under the intense supervision of the medics to England, where Lia and Leah meet you at the airport, taking you home.

______

“What’s wrong?” your sister asked, having put up with your attitude for way too long knowing you needed to break and rather than continuing to walk on eggshells waiting for you to break she decided to do it the hard way, allowing you to use her as a punching bag until you broke.

“What’s wrong, you’re fucking joking right, are you somesort of imbesile,” you sneered at her, “Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact I’ll never fucking play again, my career is over at 18, the rug has literally been swept out from under my feet, and none of it was even my fault, noone even got a fucking red, for ending my career, the ref decided that a career ending injury didn’t equate to a red. I had to watch as my friends my family lived out my dream, my fucking dream, I’m olympian, but am I really, 15 fucking minutes out of a minimum 540 minutes, I’m 2% of an olympian, I suppose that 2% counts though right? It’s not like I helped the team, I made it harder, I don’t deserve a medal but everyone else seems to think otherwise.”

“But you do bug, you were there, you got your team there, you were going to be the best young player of the year,” Leah tried to reason with you.

“Going being the key word there, I was going to win a Balloon d’or, I was going to be in the fifa best 11, I was going to win a golden boot, I was going to be and do so many things, but going is past tense, it’s never going to happen, I’m never going to get any awards ever again.” You shouted at her.

“Where are you going?” Leah asked as she watched you stand up, the room having fallen to silence moments ago.

“Away from you, I-, I-” you shook your head trying to clear your mind, Leah stepped closer to you, knowing your walls were about to crumble.

“What am I meant to do now, Le?” you asked, completely and utterly broken, “What happens now?”

Leah swallowed back her emotions “I don’t know bug, I’m sorry,” you collapsed into her and she picked you up being mindful of your hip, before lying down on the couch, your body on top of hers. You buried your head into her neck as you sobbed, your whole body shook, and all Leah could do was hold you, and try and comfort you and reassure you in a moment where there were no answers, how are you meant to comfort someone and give them reassurance when the doctors don’t even know. How are you meant to tell someone it's going to be okay when the only way to know what will happen is for them to go through an excruciating rehab process only to then very likely be told they could never play again.

____________________________________________________________

You were cleared to fly long distances 3 months after your surgery, 2 months since you returned, so that’s what you did. You flew to Australia, bought an apartment and started a new life essentially, one that not everyone knew your past in intricate detail, however being a Matilda most people knew who you were but it was different.

Charlie got Lachlan to keep an eye on you and so you did things with his friends and sometimes even his team. You found yourself getting closer to one of his friends in particular, he always made sure you weren't left behind because they were walking too fast, he was ‘coincidentally’ at the same rehab gym you went to when you first put weight on your leg still relying on your crutches heavily, he celebrated for you but quite, not to make you uncomfortable, he offered to drive you to your appointment the one where you were allowed to use only one crutch, he celebrated for you then too, a bit more openly but not nearly as enthusiastic as he would’ve liked. You invited him to the appointment where you would start walking without any assistance, he celebrated quite loudly for you that day, insisting he needed to take you out for dinner, you accepted it, hoping it would lead to something more, and it did. You quickly found yourself spending more time at his house than yours, more of your belongings there than you had at your own home. He was honestly perfect, and for whatever reason you had this feeling that a shoe would drop any second. 

— FLASHBACK — 

One night he woke up to you crying in your sleep, sitting up slightly he noticed there was blood on the sheets underneath you. Shaking you softly, he woke you up, before quietly saying “Baby, I think you’ve come on.”

“Shit,” you sighed out before curling into a tighter ball, “Why don’t you go have a shower and I’ll change the sheets,” He offered as he kissed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, rolling over to your back, “why?”, “because I’ve bleed all over the sheets, sorry,” “Baby, it's just a little blood, it’s okay, don’t worry,” you nodded before getting up and hobbling to the bathroom.

“Hey, babe you okay?” he asked as he approached the bathroom door, having finished changing the sheets, you didn’t reply to him, but he heard the muffled sounds of you crying, “I’m coming in okay,” he told you before softly opening the door, seeing you on the floor, your legs curled underneath you, as you sobbed, he bobbed down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “Do I need to take you to the hospital? I don’t think this is normal,” you shook your head as you reached to grab his hand as another wave of pain washed over you, taking a deep breath you fought off the nausea before blurting out “endometriosis,” hoping he could make conclusions from that.

“Do you need your tablets or something?” he asked and you looked at him confused. How did he know?

“My sister's girlfriend has it, I don’t know much about it but I know some things. Are your tablets in the drawer in the kitchen with the tape and stuff, are they the things in the arsenal pouch?” He asked and you nodded, being in too much pain to talk. He quickly left and returned, with your tablets, some water and heat packs.

“Not blue box,” you told him and he nodded before popping out some of the other tablets as per the labels and handing them to you.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asked as a tear rolled down your cheek, “But-” you tried to protest weakly.

“I honestly don't care. I just want to help, I want you to feel better,” you nodded shyly at him and he picked you up placing you in his lap as he handed you a heat pack, you curled up and hid your head in his chest, falling asleep eventually.

— END FLASHBACK — 

You met up with some of the Matildas’ for coffee during one of their camps, and he and Lachlan came, him on the basis he was Lachlan’s friend.

“How long?” Steph asked as she walked alongside you, both slightly behind the others.

“What?” “You know what I mean, how long?” “I don’t know, it started as friends and then the lines blurred and then somewhere along the way he asked me to be his girlfriend,” she hummed in response, “Have you told Leah?” “What do you think,” you asked her before Harper ran up to you.

Later that night you were lying in bed next to him, head resting on his shoulder as his finger drew soft circles on your hip, over your leggings, when your phone buzzed.

Steph: You need to tell Leah. I know you don’t want to, but just think about it this way, at least you won't be telling her in person. But no, I seriously think telling her sooner rather than later would be better.

You sighed after reading her message dropping your phone on the mattress next to you, you dreaded telling your sister, especially when you already barely spoke.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as you rolled on top of him, letting out a heavy breath.

“Steph figured us out and is insisting I tell Leah,”  “Oh, why don’t you want to tell Leah?” “Do you want to tell your brother?” “Shit no,” “Exactly,” there is a pause,  “but I do need to tell Leah, especially if I am going to go back when you go on holidays,”

“You can stay here, you know that right?”

“No, I have to go back. Barça wants to announce my departure officially anyway. I don’t have a choice,” you sighed out, “what if I messaged and then just threw my phone out”

“You know you can’t do that,” he chuckled softly, causing you to groan as you rolled off him.

“I don’t want to have to face them all, I ran away, they probably want nothing to do with me anymore anyway,”

“I don’t know if that’s true, Steph and Kyra were so happy and excited to see you today, so was the rest of the team but especially them.” he said and you nodded before he spoke again, “Well I don’t know about Charli, she was too busy catching up with Lachy to even notice you were there I think,” you laughed at his comment, you turned the TV onto the Arsenal match which was about to start as the pair of you feel into silence.

“Would you ever want kids?” he asked you out of the blue.

“Um, yeah, most likely, especially now it won’t be interrupting my career,” you tried to joke, “why?” “Oh, just curious, you were just really good with Harper and her little brother today, and I don’t know why but that thought came up. Also, doesn't Steph have a kid?” 

“Yeah, he stayed in London with Dean for this camp,” he just nodded as your attention both went back to the game.

____________________________________________________________

“What do you want for lunch?” Leah asked as you sat down in one of the kitchen stools as Leah and Lia walked into the kitchen. Leah had picked you up from the airport but as Harry was actually on holiday with his friends you went your separate ways, however you had a lunch planned for tomorrow with him, you, Leah and Lia.

“Not eggs,” Lia injected before you could answer, you were confused about her answer but just nodded anyway.

“Um, I don’t really care, I’m not that hungry anyway,”

They decided on Ham Sandwiches for lunch and as you ate you caught up with them, before ending up on the couch watching TV with them, they were still talking however you had fallen more silent, leaning into Leah’s side for a hug, “You okay? You’ve just gone a bit quiet and look a bit pale,” Leah asked looking down at you.

“Mmm, I’m just a bit tired,” you admitted.

“Why don’t you go up to sleep, we have no plans until tomorrow.” you nodded before moving to go upstairs.

______

“Bug you okay?” Leah asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing her hand over your face causing you to stir slightly.

“Mmmm, sorry do you want me to go?” you mumbled half asleep.

“No, it’s okay, you can stay in here, just wanted to check you were okay,” you nodded slightly before letting out a rather chesty cough, “you sure about being okay?” you just groaned at her before rolling over, feeling her slip in behind you and pull you in for a hug, it felt just like old times.

“What are you doing in here?” Leah asked as she entered the bathroom, obviously just waking up from her midday nap.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” you informed her.

“Oh, scoot forward,” she instructed you and you moved away from the wall. She sat behind you before pulling you onto her lap, you collapsed back into her, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said breaking the silence as you turned your head on her shoulder so you could look at her, “I should’ve told you, you did some much for me, you were there for me my whole life and then I just up left, no warning, nothing, and then I basically ghosted you,”

“It’s okay,” she told you

“But it wasn’t, I even told you about Harry over text, the first thing I told you in months after not even telling you I could walk without crutches was that I had a-” “Boyfriend,” “Well yeah,”

“I understand, and I understood, it was hard, don’t get that wrong, but it isn’t the only time one of us has just upped and left, I think you’d remember how once I got my professional contract and I had to move, I didn’t tell you, I couldn’t bare to see your sad little face when I told you, so I just left, at least you had a reason, I didn’t have one at all, and you technically had two reasons, the injury and payback,”

“I forgot about that, but thank you for reminding me, I will use it if Mum or Dad get angry at me,” 

“Please don’t, but I do understand. You did it for you, you needed to find yourself, figure out who you were without football, which meant you needed to be separated from everything that reminded you of what was once, of what you loved and still love, and that included us, and it;s okay. I was never angry, I just really missed you, you’re still my baby sister, and no matter what happens you will still be the most important person in my life.”

“Oh,” you felt your gut sink at her confession, suddenly the feeling of being sick became very real, “I’m sorry,” you replied quietly as you moved your head back flat against her shoulder, staring at the ceiling. You felt your mouth fill with saliva and closed your eyes taking some deep breaths.

“Should we cancel lunch tomorrow?” Leah asked as you continued to take deep breaths knowing why you were.

“No,” you said as you shook your head, the nausea having finally passed, “I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep more,”

“Okay, also Lia has an appointment with the medics tomorrow just so they can do some checks and stuff, it's before lunch but you’ll probably have to come and just hang out at the club because otherwise we might be late to lunch,” you nodded your head before you felt yourself dozing off.

____

“Hey, how are you?” Aaron asked as he walked into the gym followed by Declan, you had decided to do some of your rehab exercises while you waited for Lia and Leah.

“Yeah, pretty good. You?” You replied kindly

“Alright, know much about your prospects yet?” he asked, referring to your hip, you froze, not knowing what to say.

“Um, not yet, still another month until I find out,” you lied, you had already been told, but you weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet.

As you continued with your exercises, you couldn’t help but notice your heart rate get faster and your chest get tighter as time passed. When you felt yourself slightly shaking you slipped out of the gym, sliding down the wall in the hallway, your actions didn’t go unnoticed by declan who quickly followed you out but walked past you down to the medics office. He returned following behind Leah, who bobbed down next to you before looking up at him.

“Please don’t tell anyone about what we were speaking about in there,” she asked him

“Of course I wouldn’t Leah, it’s your own personal information, I’m sorry for interrupting, it’s just that,” he gestured towards you, “and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“No thank you,” she said before shifting her focus to you.

“Hey, what's going on? You okay? Do you feel sick?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice, you couldn’t manage to speak so you just shook your head, “Take some deep breaths, you’re okay, it’s okay, nothing happened, you’re safe.”

“I can’t play,” you managed to get out after some deep breaths, the words almost immediately lifting a weight of your chest, “I’m never going to play again, I can’t,” you told her before breaking down into tears.

“Oh Bug, I’m so sorry,” she said as she pulled you in for a tight hug.

“How much longer are we here for?” you asked as you pulled away, having calmed down slightly.

“Probably ten more minutes. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“A little, once I was out long term the offers started to come out anyway but I haven’t really considered them. I’m thinking of coaching though, I just can’t decide,” Leah hummed in response to you, and you sat in silence, just embracing her presence until Lia came out.

____________________________________________________________

After you spoke with Leah and Lia about not playing it was decided you needed to ask someone who wasn’t affected by your choice in any way. So you decided on going to Barcelona at the same time as Harry, for different reasons though. Hoping Alexia could help and give you some guidance.

So that’s how you found yourself sat in your seat on the plane as it sat on the tarmac waiting to disembark, your right knee bounced up and down uncontrollably as you nervously looked up and down the aisle. When you felt a hand placed on your knee, you jumped slightly before relaxing into the touch slightly, “It’s going to be okay, stop worrying, from what you’ve told me they will only care that you are okay and safe, they might be slightly annoyed but they’ll understand.” You nodded whilst stilling looking around, “and remember you can call me at anytime and I can come to you at anytime you want me to, the boys won't mind, they might just make a condition that they have to meet the team if that occurs,” you both let out a light laugh at that.

As you walked out of customs his hand slipped into yours, and you dropped your head onto his shoulder, causing him to kiss your temple. Just ahead you saw Lucy, who had raised her eyebrows, ignoring her you turned to him and hugged him. “I’m going to miss you so much,” you mumbled into his neck, “Same, but remember you can call whenever you need and I’ll call every night,” you nodded before you pulled your head out of his neck and your lips connected, your legs lifting to wrap around his waist as he wrapped his arms around yours.

“All right you two, stop sucking face, we need to go,” Lucy said interrupting you.

You huffed at her and she gave you the same look she would give you when you huffed at her for not getting you second ice cream when you were younger at England camps.

“Didn’t take you as someone who would be into PDAs Mini Leah,” Lucy teased you knowing the nickname would set you off.

“Well Lucy, when you’re in love, those things don’t matter,” you replied to her dramatically as you followed her out of the airport.

____

Its safe to say walking into the place you called home two years ago was emotional, and as you stood there waiting for Lucy to get everything she needed out of the car, Alexia and Mapi walked by, however Mapi halted, she was stopped in her tracks, as she was behind alexia who hadn't noticed you, and kept walking.

“Ale, Alexia,” Mapi stood there calling for her, “Alexia” she shouted,

“Què (what)”, Mapi couldn’t do anything other than gesture to you with her head, Alexia came running back down the hall and froze when she saw you.

“What’s wrong with them?” Lucy asked as she finally walked through the doors.

They stuttered, not being able to get words out, Lucy just ignored them and pulled you along behind her, to the pitch, where everyone was celebrating. Making your way over to where Ingrid, Frido and Ona stood, all giving you a hug, before a small girl came running up to you, “opp, Klem,” she said whilst she made grabby hands at you, she was Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter.

“I’m sorry, I can’t pick you up because I have an ouchie hip,” you said as you looked at her softly before looking back up at your old teammates, who all gave you sorry looks.

“Please don’t do that, that’s not why I came,” you sighed out before walking over to where Olga was standing by herself.

“Hi,” she said as she smiled and hugged you, you caught Alexia looking at you with a concerned look from the corner of her eye, Lucy and Kiera were talking to her and Mapi, most likely about how you didn’t want to be treated differently etc.

“Hi, is she mad?” you asked Olga, stepping away from the hug slightly.

“What?” “That I didn’t come to the wedding?” “A little upset Si, but not mad, more concerned, but we understood.” you nodded at her “it did take a week to calm her down after she found out you left England, she wasn’t mad though, more scared of whether you were safe or not,” you nodded weakly as you bit your bottom lip.

“Bebita,” Alexia said as she came up to you hugging you, before standing between you and Olga, almost the whole team following behind, creating a circle as they all started talking, it felt just like old times, like no time had passed, but it had almost been two years, you were struggling to follow the conversation like you used to, having not used your spanish in so long, everything was bringing back old times, old memories, memories you wished you could keep living, but this chapter of your life was over now, you moved to stand in front of Alexia and hug her, she wraps her arms around you whilst continuing her conversations, your shoulders started to shake softly as you started to cry and everyone looked at her concerned however she shook her head, indicating for them to continue and ignore it. After a while you seemed to have managed to calm down and you pulled away from Allexia slightly, she cupped your face in her hands, “Whatever happens, it's going to be okay.” you gave her a weak nod before moving to stand next to her.

“We are going for dinner at Ingrid and Mapi’s tonight, most of the team will be there and I think Harder and Erikson are coming too, you can come if you want.” Alexia said as you entered the ever so familiar house.

“Um, okay,” you said as you placed your phone on the table and went to grab a drink from the fridge before hearing your phone ring, Alexia caught a glimpse of the screen as she handed it to you. She knew exactly who it was from the look on your phone, not who the person was but who they were to you.

“Don’t tell anyone please, not many know yet,” she nodded, “do I get to meet this boy?”

“Alexia,” Olga called out sternly from the living room, clearly she still was in charge, something that hadn’t changed.

“Maybe, I think his friends and him are going to the game this weekend,” you said before you answered the phone and retreated to the spare room noticing how it was still your room and not a spare room at all.

____

You were sitting on the floor with Hailee, having been dragged away from your conversation with Mapi, Ingrid, Alexia and Olga by the small girl into her playroom. Not that you really minded though.

“They’ve told you you can’t play again haven’t they,” you were startled slightly by the unfamiliar voice, looking up to see Madga leaning on the door frame.

“How did you know?”

“I don’t know, I just could tell, maybe because I only knew you as football, where as they knew you as football and you, so they can’t see it. Does anyone know?”

“Yeah, Lia and Leah, and someone else, and now also you supposedly,” you flatly replied.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” you looked at her blankly, “I’ll take that as nothing, what if you came over to Frido’s while the team is at training and Pernille and I help you decide, we have no connection, it could help,”

“Bayern don’t need a new coach?” she shook her head, and you just nodded slightly, “okay so it’s settled then,” she said before turning around, “Frido, do you have a big whiteboard at home? If no, we need to buy one before tomorrow morning,” you heard her yell out as she walked away.

____________________________________________________________

Having made your decision with the help of Magda and Pernille you returned to England with Harry. To tell Arsenal, after it was official, just not yet announced, you went for lunch with Leah, Lia and Harry to tell them all, Lia and Leah took it well however Harry jumped out of his seat saying he needed to be somewhere, and since he wouldn’t return your calls, so you had no clue if you would see him or not, maybe he was leaving you.

“Turn around,” Steph said as she saw Harry running to the facility doors where you were waiting for Lia and Leah to get out of the car, having a chat with Steph.

“Will you move in with me?” He blurted out, slightly puffed as he reached you.

“What?” You questioned not understanding what he meant.

“I didn’t answer your call, or your message or your subsequent calls because I was doing something, for you, for me, for us. Remember how I played Rugby Union in high school,” you nodded, “well, I wasn’t ignoring you because I was mad you took the job, I wasn’t ignoring you at all, I was trialling for a rugby club, so we could be together, I love you too much and you mean too much for me to go back halfway across the world from you. They offered me a contract, it isn’t the greatest, but it will do, anything that means I can stay with you is perfect,” tears started to fall from your eyes, “I’m sorry,” he said slightly panicking, questioning if he said something wrong.

“No, no,” you said as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and picking your legs up “Thank you,” you mumbled into his ear before placing your head on his shoulder, not believing it.

“I’m assuming it worked?” Leah asked as she walked towards the three of you, he nodded in her direction as you let go, “ready to do this?” your sister asked as she looked at you and you nodded, starting to feel nervous agin.

____

“I’m coming back to Arsenal,” you told everyone as you stood in front of them, Harry standing on the sides, Jonas inisting he come in considering he was there already, they all cheered slightly before you interrupted them, “but not in the way you probably all want, I’m going to be part of the staff, the coaching team, I-,” your voice cracked, as you took a shaky breath “I won’t-, I-I can’t ever play again. I will never be able to play again, it’s uncertain whether I will be able to run without pain, let alone play,” you sniffed, you felt panic rise within you, “I’m sorry,” you said quietly before walking out the door tears streaming down your face, trying to ignore the looks of sorry, disappointment or confusion. Leah’s immediate reaction was to stand up and go to you, but Lia tugged her arm forcing her back down in her chair, gesturing to the figure that was rushing out the door after you. 

-

“I’m sorry, I-'' you blubbered out as someone came towards you, “Hey, none of that, baby none of this is your fault, and you literally have nothing to apologise about,” he said as he stood in front of you, you immediately fell into him at the sound of his voice and felt his strong arms hold you tight as you buried your head in his neck, he started swaying you and gave you a small kiss on the side of your head every now and then, trying to calm you down, knowing that was probably one of the hardest things you had to say, he knew you always wanted to finish your career at Arsenal, and now that was never going to happen, at least in the way you wanted, you would never be a Matilda again, you would never walk out onto a football pitch in the same way again, your goals were changing and you were struggling with that. He knew that, no matter how much you tried to hide your feelings.

The door creaked as it opened and Harry looked over to it, seeing Steph walk out, who handed him a water bottle as she gave him a soft smile before walking back into the room. He continued to sway you both slightly, keeping one hand around you as he took a quick sip from the bottle.

“Baby, do you want some water?” you nodded, taking the bottle of him and drinking out of it.

-

Leah was still inside crying into Lia’s shoulder, most people had left the room now giving everyone a bit of space. “Do you want to go home? Is this about what just happened or this morning?”

“All of it. It’s stupid, I just feel like I’m losing her now too, and it’s dumb, she was never mine in the first place but-” Leah confessed, before getting cut off by Lia.

“It’s not stupid Le, we have a lot of things happening in our life, a lot of news, and not a lot of time to process it all, it’s hard, and I know you feel like you have to be strong for her, for me, for us but you don’t, it’s okay,” Lia tried to reassure her.

“I shouldn’t be upset, I mean you're the one going through it all, and here I am complaining about my life.” Leah hiccuped.

“Hey, I might be the only one going through it physically but mentally we are both going through it, and you have more on your mind then I do, I understand, you don’t have to apologise for being upset, no matter if I’m experiencing worse, we are a team forever and always no matter what happens, no matter whether we have an addition to our team or not.” Leah nodded before pulling away from her and standing up noticing you had come back inside.

She pulled you towards you and wrapped you in a much needed hug, you didn’t want to let go, and neither did she.

____________________________________________________________

2028 Olympic Games

As the final whistle blew your players immediately ran over to you and your staff, celebrating as a team. 

Commentator One: And they’ve done it, the Matildas have won the Olympics for the second time in a row. 

Commentator two: Y/N Williamson has led the Matildas to victory after a drought, a much needed piece of silverware for the team that was starting to lose the country's hope.

It was a risky decision for Football Australia to choose you as new head coach, even you knew it, especially as you would only be joining the team in person at camp three weeks before the Olympics started, due to circumstances, but you started work much earlier than that, much to everyone's disbelief. You were however quickly ushered away from your team for a post match interview, causing you to catch sight of your sister who has collapsed onto the floor in tears. Taking a mental note to go over and comfort her later.

“Do you want to go see your Auntie?” You said to the two small people who clutched onto your hands as you walked onto the pitch.

“We-ah,” “we see Weah,” they piped up at the mention of her and you let go of their hands, “go on then,” you watched as they ran over to her, smiles bright, not knowing the meaning of the moment that just happened, them being so happy just to see their Aunt. 

“Alessia, hand the baby over,” you said to her as she held the newest addition to the Williamson family.

“Do you want to go say hi to your Mummy?” you asked the 3 month old as you placed her against your chest.

Leah’s face softened even more as she watched you approach her with her daughter, “you know, I’m never going to be able to thank you enough or repay you for this,” she said as you passed Lilly over to her, “but maybe you taking the gold away from me, means I don’t have to.”

“I told you, it’s nothing, honestly, you don’t have to repay me, buuut…..” you dragged on, she raised an eyebrow, “can you take the boys tonight, I have some celebrating to do,” you told her as she rolled her eyes.

“You literally carried our baby for us, I do owe you, and yes of course I’ll take the boys tonight, I need some quality time with them before they leave me for Australia,” she replied.

“It’s only two weeks, it's just a short camp, and it’s time we went on one of Daddy’s camps and meet all their uncles, but they honestly think they are meeting Kangaroos, they don’t quite understand that Wallabies is just the name of the team” she laughed at your comment before pulling you in for a hug. It sounds cliche but you knew in that moment your life had turned out perfect, it is nowhere near what you imagined but you honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

[moonchildstyles]

neglect

harrys in an unhappy marriage and didn't realize he was missing so much sunlight until y/n came in

cw: toxic relationship? idk harry's wife isn't nice:(

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Bye, honey. Love you." 

Harry didn't realize he had his hopes up for a reciprocated response until nothing came. Minerva left though the door with nothing more than a wave tossed over her shoulder, eyes glued to her phone with a smile that wasn't for him on her lips. He didn't know the last time she said I love you back.

Heaving a sigh that lifted his shoulders before deflating into a slump, Harry locked the front door after his wife as the start of his day alone. 

It'd been two weeks since he lost his job in the third round of layoffs his office (ex-office?) was going through. It had been heartbreaking for Harry, having given almost a decade of his life—he was just months short of his ten year anniversary, actually—to this job; having given up on his dreams, and sacrificing time with his family all throughout those years. It all had been thrown away after one bad investor's meeting, leaving him with a measly severance package and a generic goodbye card left on his desk on his last day. As if that day couldn't get any lower, when Minerva finally came home and Harry sat her down to tell her the news, she barely looked up from the ping that lit up her phone screen. 

"That's what happens when you stay with a failing company, Harry. You should have been paying more attention." 

With that, she had left him to sit alone at the dining room table, his head in his hands as he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes. She always said he was too sensitive, crying would only serve to make her more annoyed with him.

Since then, he had all day long to shop around his resume online and through networking channels, only to field rejection emails by the end of the day. Minerva offered no support, only giving small hums or "I told you so" when she bothered to answer at all when he told her about his day over dinner. It broke his heart. 

While their marriage hadn't been anything close to perfect for a very long time (Harry didn't think it really ever had been, the more he thought about it), this was the worst it'd ever been. Minerva was always the harder one out of the two of them, which worked for a long time. It was all about balance, Harry remembered thinking back when they first moved in together after getting engaged. He was the soft one that cried watching romantic movies, and she was the one that would scoff at the logistics and talk about how unrealistic the stories were. She preferred horror with unhappy endings.

It worked, until it didn't.

Something changed after those first months of living together. Since then, Harry had been trying to play catch-up to get on the same page as her, but she seemed to be chapters ahead by the time he was even going in the right direction. His degree was never good enough, his dreams of being a songwriter or music producer were too silly to even entertain, and his family didn't support them enough. By the time he realized Minerva didn't even like him much anymore, let alone love him, he was left with a broken heart. 

But, even when he suggested counseling or even one of those couple's retreats that offered hands-on help, she shut him down immediately. That was all hippie shit he should have grown out of after they graduated college, she told him. It was her that brought up divorce, the word that had all but split Harry in half when it hung in the air between them, only for her to shut it down and tell him it wasn't an option as far as she was concerned—it would look bad for her to be a divorcee while she was still trying to climb the corporate ladder. Maybe after she made it to the executive level, she mused, if he still felt this way anyway. 

Harry did the only thing he felt he could: pretend everything was normal. If he wanted any chance of not losing his mind, sinking into a depression that he feared he would be unable to climb out of, he had to fall into the motions of loving her. He woke her up with breakfast ready before they'd leave for work—before he lost his job, of course—, telling her goodbye with a kiss to the cheek and hollow declaration of love that he still felt hurt by every time he didn't hear her say it back. When he made it home before her, he'd clean up the house, sorting through bills and mail, and get dinner ready, giving himself just enough time to slip back into his steeled character by the time she came through the front door and ignored him. 

But, Harry had always told himself it could be much worse—he was still lucky in some senses of the word, even if some nights he had to search hard for those moments—, and right he was about that. He was currently living through the worst it had ever been, moping around the house and feeling more down on himself than he knew was healthy for the fragile grip he had on his composure. 

As anxiety inducing as it all was (was finding a job always this hard or was he really as unimpressive as Minerva said he was?), the free time did allow him to work on projects he'd pushed to the side in favor of his nine-to-five. The attic had been successfully cleaned out and reorganized for the first time since moving in, the walls in the basement finally painted the eggshell blue Minerva picked out years ago, and the garage was spic-and-span. The last couple of days, he'd dedicated his time to maintaining the garden out front as well as the backyard, something he'd found himself enjoying more than any of the previous items on the honey-do list he was working through. His mom had always loved gardening, so he felt a lot closer to home when he plodded through the soil with fresh sprouts. 

After spending the first hour of the morning sending out his resume to a fleet of job postings and rifling through his email in hopes of getting anything back about a possible interview, he got changed for his day in the sun. He picked a white tank top with red stitching on the side declaring him as loved (though he didn't always feel that way) to adorn his torso with a pair of black shorts covering his thighs though his knee tattoos were left on display. Pulling his hair back with a tiny clip that left a sprout of hair fluffed on the top of his head, Harry slipped on a pair of large burgundy sunglasses before heading out the front door. 

Headphones plugged in his ears, he grabbed his supplies he'd left on the porch, fitting his hands into the pair of sturdy gloves he'd dug out when he cleaned the garage. Along the porch railing was the row of flowers he planned on shoveling into the soil, their planters barely containing the rich blooms rooted inside. The furling petals brought a smile to his face as he got to his knees near the plot of yard that had previously been nothing other than mulch and dandelions. Maybe having a garden out front might sweeten Minerva's sour mood if he did it just right. 

Tucking into the soil with the tools he had to reach out to his mom to verify were the right ones for the job, Harry started planting his rose garden. Green bushes with barely there blooms began to line the porch, making the tiny, white picket railing seem that might brighter against the rich hues of the buds. He was lost in his head, humming along to the music playing through his headphones as he built his garden, lavender and candy floss pinks joining his roses as the perfect growing companions. 

He didn't know how long he'd been out under the sun until he heard the faint sound of a car running behind him, the thrumming earning a glance over his shoulder. For a split second, he'd worried it was Minerva, home early. He had a feeling she wouldn't be happy to see him tending to the garden, tending to something they could have just hired someone to take care of if he'd been smarter about his career path. Instead, it was the car of the not-so-new neighbor that had moved in next door less than a year ago. 

A smile stretched across his face as he peered at her concentrated face through the tint of her window, a furrow to her brow as she navigated parking in the driveway. A breath of relief slumped her shoulders when she did so without incident; Harry understood, he'd seen her patching dings on her car too many times to count since she'd moved in. A clumsy driver, she was.

Harry plucked out his earbud as he sat back on his heels while she rifled through her car for a moment longer before stepping out onto the driveway. A bright smile covered her features as soon as she matched Harry's gaze, lifting his spirits higher than they'd been all day. A bubbly wave tinkled her fingers. 

"Hi, Harry!" she chattered out, hiking her bag up her shoulder as she lingered on the concrete. 

"Hi, (Y/N)," he reciprocated, his voice coming out a lot dreamier than he anticipated. 

"Your garden looks really nice," she beamed at him, toeing the ground with her teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, knowing his entire face lit up at the praise, "'M not done yet, but 'm really liking how it's turning out." 

"I'm excited to see what it looks like when you have it all together, then," she offered, edging towards the open garage to head inside, "I'll see you around, Harry." 

"Bye," he told her, his voice carrying along with her as she went out of view. 

His gaze lingered in the spot he swore he saw a phantom of her form still. Even at the sound of the garage door closing signaling he was well and truly alone, Harry could still feel the effects of her presence, no matter how minute the interaction was. Plugging his headphone back in his ear, he went back to his work though he barely made note of anything he was doing. 

He liked (Y/N). Probably more than he should. 

She was just so sweet, enough so that her attention could make Harry blush. Even the first time they met, he remembered wishing he could have spent more time with her as she flitted about the neighborhood block party. She was a wonderful neighbor, always so considerate even though her roommate was very partial to a late night party now that they'd finally moved into an actual house after a spread of dodgy apartments through their college and some post-grad years (he'd overheard that during the block party). Minerva never seemed to like her much, though. She called her nosy, always talking to their neighbors, and attention-seeking with the way she supposedly paraded around the subdivision in her workout gear while taking her roommate's dog for a walk. 

Harry couldn't disagree more when his wife went off on her dislike for their neighbor, but it was something he had to keep to himself. Minerva would have his head if he defended (Y/N) the way he wanted to—with more than a shrug and "she's not like that, honey". Besides, he worried that if he truthfully spoke about how good he felt she was, that his little crush on her would turn into something more troublesome. He already had too many things going on inside his house, he didn't need to add the guilt of something more than a small crush on a nice girl worming it's way into his head. 

And, he cared for Minerva, still. Right? If he didn't, he would have insisted on getting a divorce and wouldn't worry so hard about what would make her happy with him. (Y/N) was a constant, happy presence in his life, even if their interactions were spread apart and only lasting some minutes here and there. Of course, he would get attached to the pretty girl who spared him attention and gave him praise without a second-thought. That didn't mean anything, though.

Even with the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of his neighbor, Harry reminded himself of his reality. He was a married man, someone who cared for his wife and would continue to be a good husband to her until he signed his name on the dotted line. (Y/N) would always be nothing more than a nice friend. That's all.

—————

Harry sighed as he sank to his knees in his garden. Looking at all of his hardwork, he felt his heart break when he recalled Minerva's attitude the night before. 

She hated it. 

A waste of his time, she'd said. How was he supposed to find a respectable job when he was too busy with dirt up to his elbows doing a job fit for 'the help'? He had been floored when he heard her, but snapped his mouth shut as soon as she rolled her eyes and stomped upstairs, disregarding the dinner he had set out on the table. 

Looking at the bushel of lavender that still needed to be planted as well as the border that needed to be filled with his candy floss pinks, Harry didn't feel the same joy he had the day before. He probably could be a lot more useful browsing the job sites, checking in on his network connections again. If he tried hard enough, dedicated himself enough, he would get a response, right? 

His only saving grace was the music playing through his headphones, pushing him out of his head and into whatever the writer was urging him to feel with every beat and sprawled lyric. Music was everything to Harry. Way back when, he even had dreams of becoming a songwriter, or producing tracks and working in a studio—anything to put him in the industry. But that was years ago, before he was married and had to stop being so selfish with his dreams. Minerva wanted something better for him, so he had to let that go. 

Concentrating on the notes that filtered through his headphones, Harry was finally pushed out of his head and back into the moment. He would finish the garden, then go inside and job hunt some more, he decided. 

The sun was especially warm on his back today, soaking into the black fabric of his t-shirt (a bad choice in hindsight, he realized as soon as he checked the high temperature on his phone). Sweat dripped from his hairline as he dug into the soft soil lining his front porch, following the line of his nose before dropping into the dirt. If he was lucky, he would beat out a sunburn and leave with a tan coloring his skin, but the more he soaked in the heat, Harry didn't feel good about his chances. 

By the time only a half of the candy floss had been planted along the border, the neckline of his top was drenched in sweat and Harry was running out of the motivation to finish his project. It wasn't until he felt a soft hand nudge at his shoulder did he look up from the flowers he was plotting in the ground. That definitely wasn't Minerva, he knew that much before looking over his shoulder. She never touched him that gently anymore. 

Sitting back on his heels, pushing his sunglasses into the mass of hair on the top of his head, Harry turned onto only to see (Y/N) clad in her workout gear with her arms cradling snacks. 

He was quick to pull his earbud from his ear, looking to her with a shaky smile he hoped didn't embarrass him any more than the sweaty state she'd caught him in. "H-Hi, (Y/N)." 

"Hey," she greeted him with a bubbly smile, warmer than the heat clouding the air, "Looking really good, Harry." 

His mouth went dry as he processed her words. "Wh-What?" 

"Your garden," she clarified, nudging her chin in the direction behind him, "It's looking really good. Almost done?" 

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he blinked, rolling his lips between his teeth as he granted himself a reprieve of following her line of sight to his blooms. She made him so nervous it was hard to look at her. "Only a little more to go, so I should be finishing up today." 

"You've been at it all morning, I'm surprised you haven't passed out with how hot it is," (Y/N) continued, huffing out a laugh through a soft smile, "I just came back from walking my roommate's dog and made some snacks and lemonade, so I thought I'd come over and share, if you wanted any?"

Dropping his gaze to her hands, he found a paper plate with a bagel covered in cream cheese, and a handful of dried cranberries. In the crook of her elbow, a small, chilled water bottle was cradled. 

A smile crooked his lips as he gazed at her. 

Cute. 

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said, twisting in his spot so he could properly face her, "Y'didn't have to." 

"It's alright," she beamed, offering him the refreshments with an outstretched hand, "I was already making my own, so I thought I'd make some for you, too." 

It was simple, what she brought out for him, but even just a single sip of the sugary lemonade was enough to have Harry's heart bloating. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him so considerately. 

"No, this is really kind of you, (Y/N)," he cemented, looking up at her from where he sat in his yard, trying his best to keep his gaze from going too soft, "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ever. You've been so nice to me ever since y'moved in, I want to pay y'back somehow." 

"Harry, really, it's alri—" 

"Humor me? Please?" She was giving him undeserved kindness, and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

The way her features softened as she looked down at him, hair messy on the top of her head and face glowing with the dew of a fresh workout, had Harry's heart clawing at his chest. She was looking at him like that. How lucky was he? 

"Alright, I'll let you know, okay? I'm sure something will come up soon enough; I don't know if you've noticed with the amount of times I've accidentally backed into my garage door, but I'm not great about not breaking things. Be prepared with the amount of help I'll be needing now that you've offered, Harry." Faux seriousness covered her features as she pointed an accusing finger at him, thought her facade was cracking with the curl of her lips and the soft set of her eyes. 

"I'll be ready, promise," he beamed up at her, pleased with the way she bit back her smile like she was afraid of how big it would grow if she didn't.

She lingered for a moment longer, her tender gaze dropping for her feet before she matched his gaze again. "I should probably get back to the dog—he doesn't like to be alone for long—, but, I'll come by if I need anything, Harry." 

"O-okay," he breathed out, catching a flutter in his heart at the sound of his name wrapped in her voice, "I'll be here." 

Her grin widened at his small joke as she edged back towards her home. With a little wave, she was on her way, Harry watching her the entire time. 

When he saw her twist to look over her shoulder, he felt silly for a moment to have been caught staring, but then she spoke: "Tell Minerva I said hi, too, please! I haven't seen her in so long!" 

It was the genuine smile on her face that had his heart dropping to his stomach. He kept quiet as he gave a confirming nod, waiting for her to disappear back inside her home before he dropped his gaze. 

She was a sweet, sweet, sweet girl who wanted him to say hello to his wife for her—the same woman that would smear mud across (Y/N)'s name at any given chance. She saw the best in everyone, even people who didn't deserve that rose-tinted view. She was much too good for him, he knew that much. Much too good to have a married man become infatuated with the idea of her. 

—————

Clicking out of his email, Harry ran a heavy hand through his hair. 

Nothing. Not a single response to all of his cover letters, tailored resumes, and followups. 

He knew in the grand scheme of things that four weeks really wasn't that long to be unemployed, but sitting in this house all day long, waiting for his wife to come home with whatever jeering remarks she stewed over all day, felt like years of torture. There wasn't anything else to fix up in the house that could distract him for hours on end; the gardens in both the front and back were planted and well maintained now, the garage still tidy, attic still clean and clear, and he'd even fixed that leaky faucet in the guest bathroom Minerva had been complaining about since they moved in. What else was there to do but marinate in his own short-comings and make himself go mad until it was time to make dinner?

Slumping into the couch cushions, Harry tried to distract himself by flicking on the television, hoping to find something to take his mind off of the replay of last night's silent dinner with Minerva. Sometimes he couldn't figure out what hurt more: her silence or her deprecating words that broke him down? 

Just as he found a daytime soap he remembered his mother tuning into, a quiet knock rang at the front door. He didn't make a move to answer it, assuming it was some delivery service dropping off something Minerva had ordered or a door-to-door solicitor that would be smart to get out of this neighborhood before one of the more haughty neighbors reamed him for doing his job. But, when another round of the soft rapping came, he dared to peek his head through the gauzy curtains and glimpse at the visitor. 

It was (Y/N). 

From the limited view he had, he could see the way she was glancing back and forth from his front door and to her house, toeing anxiously at the ground with her phone clutched in her hand. Today was her day off, he remembered that (don't ask him how, he knew it wasn't something he needed to remember but he couldn't help his memory), only emphasized by the comfy shorts she had on her legs and the large t-shirt that was much too cold to be wearing so early in the morning without a sweater. 

It was that one peek at her that had him rising from his spot on the couch and rushing towards the front door. By the time he twisted the locks and pulled the door open, (Y/N) was reluctantly stepping off the porch with her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as she saw Harry in the threshold, she ended her call with a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she breathed, hands falling to her sides, "I was so worried you were at work, or something." 

"Is everything alright? Are y'okay?" He didn't even realize he was scanning over her form for injuries until he met her gaze from where it had drawn down to her feet. 

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, toeing at the ground as she glanced towards her house, "I just... You said you would be willing to help me if I needed anything, right?" 

"Yes, of course," he affirmed, a furrow pinching at his brows. 

"So," she started, looking guilty already, "I was about to go take a shower, but I think I broke it." 

"Broke what?" 

"The shower." 

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" 

"Its..." she started again, scrunching her nose as she tried to find the words, "I don't know, it's just not working and I don't know what happened." 

"Okay," Harry said slowly, passing a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, "I'll take a look and see if I can help." 

"Thank you so much, Harry," (Y/N) babbled, relief touching at her features, "My roommate is going to kill me if I break one more thing in the house." 

"Yeah?" he pressed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips with a dimple pressing into his cheek, "Have y'been breaking a lot of stuff then?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she started across the lawn with Harry following after. "I don't think so, but Mitch swears that I broke the panini press, the wifi-thing, the ice maker, and I somehow, apparently, fucked up the coffee table, or something. I think he's just dramatic and doesn't pay attention when he's using things, but whatever."

A smile bloomed across his features as he listened to her list off every appliance and piece of furniture that could be in a house. Now, including a shower (whatever that exactly meant) on that list. 

Humming, he nodded his head, "Do y'think he breaks it and tries to blame it on you, or something?" Harry wouldn't like that. (Y/N) didn't deserve a roommate like that. 

"No," she waved off, pushing open the unlocked front door before letting Harry in ahead of her, "he's not like that. I just think some of the things we have are old, so of course they stop working or break, and he knows he didn't do it so he thinks it's me. But, I think it's just the universe." 

"I see," Harry smiled, stepping into her home. 

While it was a shared space, he could still spot the (Y/N)-esque touches littered throughout the living room; a soft knitted blanket in creamy tones thrown across the back of the deep green couch, a bookcase spotted with novels he'd heard her reference to her friends in the neighborhood along with little crystals and delicate trinkets, and photos framed on the wall with her beaming smile lighting up the setting. Everything looked worn and loved, handed down from relatives or second-hand shops—nothing at all like the stiff decor and furniture that Minerva had picked out from a catalogue exactly as it was. It looked like a home. 

"It's the upstairs bathroom, if you wanted to follow me," (Y/N) explained, stopping him from wandering out into the space to see what it would feel like to wrap himself in things that were (Y/N). 

"Right, the shower," he murmured under his breath, trailing behind her, "What exactly happened?" 

An exasperated shrug of (Y/N)'s shoulders was the view he was granted a couple of steps behind, "I don't know. I got all my stuff ready to take my shower, and I was waiting for the water to warm up and when I pulled the thing to make it come out of the shower head and not the faucet, it just... didn't work." 

She took him to the bathroom in question, opening the door to the brightly lit and femininely decorated bathroom (her own personal one, he'd assume) with the remnants of steam still touching the top of the mirror. 

"Watch this." She beckoned to him, settling on her knees on the tiled floor. Twisting the knob on the temperature control, water started streaming through the faucet and splashing across the tub. She paused for a moment as if to ensure Harry was properly watching before she reached across and pulled the pin at the top of the faucet, the same one that should redirect the water flow up to the shower head. The second it was pulled, there was a sputtering of water flowing for a moment longer before only a single bead fell from the shower head. The faucet stopped leaking, leaving the water to go down the drain before the shower was dry, none of the outlets dispensing. 

"Huh," Harry breathed, gaze drifting back and forth between the faucet and the shower head as if either one would explode at a moment's notice with all the water pent up. 

"Right?" 

"It just started acting weird today?" he asked, reaching into the bathtub and pulling on the pin again. The same result: silence and dryness. 

"Yeah, it was perfectly fine last night. And everything else like the sink, and the kitchen, and Mitch's bathroom are all working. It's just the shower." 

Harry tested it out for a few minutes, (Y/N)'s eyes following him as he tinkered with the knob controlling the pressure and temperature, the pin, and the shower head itself. Nothing changed as he poked and prodded, a furrow pinching his brow. 

"Do you know where your water heater is?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to her as he twisted the knob to off. 

Pausing when he saw the way she was sat so prettily behind him, Harry suddenly felt flush under her attention. He had felt the warmth of her gaze the whole time as he worked and messed around with the appliance, but it was different seeing her with wide eyes looking up at him with her legs tucked carefully under her body. Even with her messy hair and ill-fitting clothes, Harry swore for a moment she was surrounded by starlight and puffs of cotton candy clouds—a dream on earth. 

His heart skipped a beat with butterflies filling his tummy. Since when was he this far gone? 

A loud thud sounded from the floors below, the only thing that shook Harry from whatever was running through his head that only jumbled the second he remembered this was (Y/N) who was gazing up at him like that. 

"(Y/N)?" he stuttered over her name, his arms dropping limply at his sides.

The call of her name brought focus to her eyes. "Hm?" she hummed, with with a flutter of her lashes. 

"D-Do you know where your water heater is?" he tried again, running a nervous finger under the tip of his nose. 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she breathed out on a laugh, rising to her shaky legs, "It's in the basement."

They were quiet as Harry followed her on an impromptu tour of the house, down the two floors to the chilled basement. It was when she reached the landing did she stop in her tracks with a gasp. It took him only a second to peer around her shoulder and find the cause of her widened eyes and fists clutched to her chest. 

The concrete floor of the space was covered in a shallow pool of water. Some spaces the level was lower than others, but there was definitely enough water covering the floor to account for what hadn't been streaming through the shower upstairs. 

"Shit," Harry whispered, spotting the pack of boxes pushed into the very corner of the basement, the bottom row slowly taking on water.

"Those are Mitch's things," she rushed out, following his line of sight, "I need to get them upstairs before anything gets messed up." 

(Y/N) didn't falter after that, splashing through the water with her bare feet. Harry went to follow her, only to have to step out of the way as she was on her way back with a box stacked in her arms. 

"D-Do y'want help?" The question felt a little dumb leaving Harry's mouth, but he didn't want to start rummaging around if she would prefer he stand back.

"Would you, please?" (Y/N) asked from halfway up the stairs, "Thank you so much, Harry." 

Hearing that strain in her voice was all he needed before he was setting off to help her pick up the boxes, trudge through the water and up the steep stairs. By the time there was nothing more than the last few boxes, the bottoms all soaked in the leaked water, he was out of breath but (Y/N) looked a little less stressed. Only a little. 

"Thanks," she panted out again once all of her roommates things were safely tucked away on dry land. Her eyes fluttered closed before she ran a heavy hand over her features, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. "I think Mitch is really going to kill me for this one. I don't even know what happened." 

Hands on his hips, Harry remembered the shimmering lake that had taken over the level below. "I don't either, love, but you're going to need to call someone to fix it. 'M sure something is blocked." 

"Probably," she sighed, eyes focusing on a random spot by her feet as she pinched at her lips, "H-How do I get the water out of the basement, though?" 

"Jus' gonna have to mop it up, and use some towels, I think. 'S not a lot, so it shouldn't be too bad." 

"Yeah," she breathed out again, focus coming back to her gaze as it flitted up to return Harry's. "I'm so sorry to ask, but would you be able to help? Even just for a lit—"

"Yeah, of course I can help." A heat touched at his cheeks as he realized just how eagerly he had offered up his help. But, with the way (Y/N) lit up at his agreement to help, he didn't really mind how silly he sounded. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much, Harry," she beamed at him, already seeming to have more life in her as she toed towards the stairs leading her up a level, "I'll go grab some towels, but the mop is in the kitchen, over there, if you can get that. I'll be right back. Thank you so much!" 

It was with a scuttle of her feet and a twist of her hair fluttering behind her that she disappeared up the staircase. Harry's gaze followed after her for a moment longer, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt a smile coming on. 

—————

"Did you always want to do accounting?" 

(Y/N)'s question echoed in the empty basement, sounding over the slopping sound of the mop in Harry's hands sopping up the water that didn't seem to have an end. He shrugged, having expected this question when they started talking about their career-paths (apparently, (Y/N) wanted to be a writer, but she was currently working retail so she could pay the bills in the meantime). 

"Not really," he answered honestly, wringing out the mop into the accompanying bucket that was just under half full at this point, "I actually wanted to get into music, but this seemed more practical." 

"Music?" (Y/N) perked up, wringing out a soaked towel before opting for the slightly drier ones as she worked on her hands and knees, "Like as a singer?" 

A smile plucked at Harry's features at the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't remember the last time someone sounded genuinely excited at the idea of learning more about him. 

"Maybe if I felt right, but mostly songwriting and producing. I liked the idea of being in one of those big studios, you know?" The images he'd had of his life when he was young flashed through his head. His heart almost broke at how easily it was to conjure up those pictures despite how long it'd been since he allowed himself to indulge in those what-ifs.

"Did you write a lot of songs then? Anything I might have heard?" (Y/N) wasn't even working anymore, that much Harry could tell when he peeked at her through his lashes. She was sitting back on her heels listening to him, attention rapt and unwavering. 

"No, I never really made music. Everything I've ever written is packed away in some journal in m'attic. I haven't seen it since university, I think." That was a little bit of a lie, if he was being honest. He'd seen it when he was reorganizing the attic space and moving things around. He just didn't have the guts to open it.

He could hear the pout in her voice as she humphed. "That's a bummer. I would have loved to read what you wanted to put to music," she mused, "If you ever find it, would you let me read some of it?" 

Against his will, a memory of him shoving his book into Minerva's hands, asking her to read his latest work—one that was inspired by her—before she refused, not wanting to read any of what his silly hobby spawned. It was a waste, she had told him in her own way; music wasn't a stable job and he needed to wake up before it was too late and he'd sung them into living in a cardboard box. 

Harry made quick work of shoving that thought to the side, inserting himself into the moment with (Y/N) once more. It was the glimmer in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the fact she asked to read his art that had him answering in a heartbeat. "Of course. You'll be the first person I call." 

The creases that lined her face as her smile grew was enough to wipe those awful moments with Minerva away like the water he was sopping off the floor. Speaking around her smile, she dropped her gaze to the towel in her hands, "So—um—if you wanted to be a songwriter, why did you end up going into accounting? That's a huge field change." 

"Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his bottom lip for a moment of comfort, "Um, she—sorry, Minerva, she thought it would be a better idea to go into something like finance. More stable and real than music." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, voice neutral though he could see her features scrunch up some, "I can see that a little, I guess. Did she ever help you write or anything like that?" 

"Not really. It wasn't something she thought was..." Harry floundered as he remembered all the things she called his songwriting (not worth her time, stupid, an excuse to not find a real job, ect.). Those probably weren't the kind of things to dump on his neighbor. "It was jus' hard for her to get into it the way I did. I usually did all of it alone." 

"Well," she started, a slight pinch lingering in her brows as she crawled to the next section of floor, "I'm sure if she could have helped, she would have." 

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. 

"Yeah, but what about you, hm?" he switched, wringing out the mop once more, "What kind best-seller are y'drafting?" 

It seemed that was the perfect question to ask her as she shot into an explantation of the creative writing class she had taken in college and the idea of a narrative that never quite left her (of course only after she rolled her eyes at his best-seller comment. I haven't even finished a single chapter, Harry, she told him though the smile she was biting back still bled into her features). He was wrapped up solidly in the world she was painting for him, even when she shyly brought up the romantic aspects as she was most excited about adding. 

Despite the water seeping through his Vans and chilling him from his toes up, Harry swore he could have stayed in that basement all day long hearing her talk about the things she loved. 

What a privilege that would be.

—————

Minerva didn't even bother to wake Harry up before she was off to work this morning, only leaving a note tacked to the fridge about the shopping that needed to be done today and that she would be home late due to after-work drinks with some of her colleagues. He wasn't all that surprised at that. She seemed to prefer to spend any time she could away from him, no matter where it was.

At least, he had a task that would take up some of the morning and direct his mind off of the sourness that was filling his lungs every time he thought about Minerva. 

Taking his time to clean up after the breakfast his wife made for herself before her day at work, Harry didn't leave for grocery shopping until late in the morning. Armed with Minerva's list as well as the mental one he'd developed after spending so much time at home and in charge of meals, he plucked a trolley and started off through the shelves. 

The store was luckily fairly empty given the time of day he was waltzing through the aisles, and Harry couldn't be more grateful for the chance to move at his own pace. He was feeling particularly slothly today, sluggish limbs and tired eyes, so at least he wasn't being pushed around and feeling rushed to get out of there as soon as he could. He marked off every item he grabbed from the shelves as he went, putting together a menu for the rest of the week. 

It wasn't until he was armed with the ingredients to Minerva's favorite pad Thai recipe—one she probably wasn't even going to eat, he pessimistically decided—that he ran into another's cart. 

"Oh gosh—" 

"I'm sorry—" 

The second he saw who he had accidentally bumped into, every bit of exhaustion evaporated from his limbs. 

(Y/N)'s expression cleared up just the same, the apology on her lips falling away in favor of wrapping her voice around his name. "Hi," she greeted him, "Fancy seeing you here." 

"Yeah, sorry about that," he told her, sounding much too chipper for an apology, "Wasn't watching where I was going." 

"It's alright, I'm happy it was you," she cemented, parking her cart on the other side of the aisle from him, settling in, "How are you?" 

"'M good, thank you," he smiled, "How's your shower and everything? Did that guy end up making it out there?" 

"Yeah, he came a little after you left," she sighed, shaking her head as if recalling the memory made her just as exasperated as she was in real time, "It was so stupid. I don't even know what it was that was blocking my shower, but something was blocking that specific channel so every time I turned it on and tried to get water to come out, I was breaking something else and flooding the basement. I feel like he was being a jerk, but Mitch says that I was probably just in a bad mood." 

Harry shrugged, biting back a smile though he was sure his dimple still poked through. Maybe she was in a bad mood—he wouldn't blame her—, but she hadn't been in one by the time he left. If he really let his heart run away from him, he'd let himself imagine he had been the one to keep her happy.

"At least he got it fixed, right?" he tried, leaning his forearms into the seat of the trolley, chin resting on his fist. 

"Yeah," she smiled, apparently forgetting the supposed attitude she was given, "I got to wash my hair afterwards, so that was nice." He watched as her gaze dropped to the contents of his cart, eyes lighting up when she caught sight of something to pique her interest. "Where did you find that pizza dough? Mitch and I keep ordering out for pizza so I was trying to get stuff to make it ourselves instead." 

An apologetic smile curled his lips before she even finished speaking. "It's over by the cheese counter, but I did grab the last couple. 'M sorry, (Y/N)." 

The second he watched her deflate, the makings of a pout itching at her lips, Harry couldn't help himself. He just wanted to see her smile again. 

"I was planning on using them for lunch today, but, if y'want, y'can come over and-and try it with me? I haven't tried this one before either, so if y'like it, y'can take some home." 

He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat as he allowed his mouth to run ahead of him. 

(Y/N) hesitated from where she stood in front of him, the blunt edges of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. With a flutter of her lashes, she returned his gaze. "Are you sure? I can just get some next time, it's alright." 

Swallowing, he saw the way out she was giving him, but he found himself wanting to stay just where he'd put himself. 

"'M sure," he cemented, surprised by how lightweight the words felt, "I was going to eat by myself anyway, so at least we could talk a little." 

A beat passed before she offered him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. "Alright. I still have some more shopping to do, but when I'm home, I could come by? As long as you're alright with waiting for me." 

Harry didn't need to think before he was nodding his head. 

Of course he would wait for her.

—————

Was this cheating? 

Harry's chest constricted at the thought. 

He wasn't a cheater, was he?

All he'd done was invite a friend over for lunch and to talk, just as they'd done before. He'd ran into her at the supermarket and asked if she wanted to share some of the food he was planning on making anyway, especially as she was only a door down. That's not cheating, right? 

No, he told himself. They hadn't even touched outside of passing each other when they were lugging up her roommate's belongings upstairs, let alone kiss or go further. And nothing they'd talked about had verged into romantic territory, not even for a second. He talked to her like he would talk to a friend. He'd had female friends before—before Minerva, of course—and this was how he would treat any of them. He would even argue he's held her at a larger distance away, especially since he was married. 

Just because he thought his friend was pretty, didn't mean he was cheating. 

Minerva even knew about he extra time here and there he was spending with (Y/N), though she definitely scoffed and made faces whenever he spoke her name. If he was doing something wrong, he wouldn't have told Minerva anything, right?

Harry couldn't calm his spinning mind as he put away his groceries, spiraling out of control as he contemplated turning (Y/N) away when she came to the door—with all the ingredients for a pizza to make at her own home. But, as much as he was worried about the blurry line he was approaching, he didn't want to say no to her and make her leave. He didn't want the sunshine that was leaking into his life courtesy of his neighbor to become shrouded by clouds once again. 

It was an innocent friendship, and if Harry couldn't handle himself, he would stop it. He vowed to himself that if he came to a point where he was worried he wouldn't be able to not cross into the shades of grey safely, then he would end it. Because he was someone's husband before he was someone's friend. 

It wasn't until he heard a knock on the front door that Harry's frantic hands came to a sputtering halt. Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter where he stood in front of the ingredients for his pizza project, he took a steadying breath. He centered himself for one more moment before going to the door to let his friend in. 

(Y/N) greeted him with a bright smile when he swung the door open. "Hi, stranger," she bubbled, hands folded in front of her dressed in the same comfy set he'd found her in at the grocery. 

"Hi," he greeted her, feeling the stretch of his grin as he took her in. 

Even as he widened the berth of the door, clearing way for her to pass through, (Y/N) nervously toed the porch, eyes giving way to a tinge of anxiety he'd never seen there before. A pinch drew his brows together as he watched her. 

"You're still hungry, right?" he prodded, giving her an out if she decided she would rather be at home. 

His question seemed to shake her from wherever she had crawled to in her head. "Y-Yeah, sorry," she brushed off with a smile, stepping over the threshold and into his home, "I just realized I've never been inside your house before." 

"That's right, huh," he said, smile going lopsided with only a single dimple in his cheek, "Busy couple of weeks for us, then, right? Packing a whole lot of basic friendship things into a few days." 

Harry knew he uttered the word friendship for his benefit only, feeling stiff as it passed his lips. Because this was what this all was. Friends went to each other's houses, and got to know each other through quality time. Nothing nefarious or wrong about that. 

"We've been neighbors for almost a year, and I think I just learned your last name," (Y/N) laughed, waiting for him as he locked the front door before starting off towards the kitchen with her behind him. 

"That's what happens when y'wait to break your shower so y'can invite me over," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder with a smug smile on his lips. 

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes, and shook her head as they entered the kitchen. Harry's set up was just as he'd left it: dough rolled out and floured, his favorite pizza sauce set off to the side with every fix-in delegated to different bowls and packages for easing picking. She followed after him with a light to her eyes, taking in the station he'd set up for them. 

"I didn't know what y'might want to put on it, so I jus' got everything out," he explained, starting to feel a little sheepish over the amount of effort he put into his friend's meal. 

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him, standing in front of one of the two slabs of rolled out dough, "This is perfect. You're so nice." 

He had to pretend that his heart didn't flutter some at the gentle compliment she gave him. 

Smiling down at his hands, Harry turned towards the sink to wash up before starting to assemble the food so she didn't see the flush he was sure was pricking the tip of his nose. 

Once she'd followed the same procedure before returning to her station, Harry finally chanced a look at her where she stood with expecting eyes. Yeah, she was still pretty.

"Ready?" he murmured, swallowing around the word. 

"Ready." 

—————

"So, you didn't even actually work in the bakery? You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I would be lulled into a sense of trust even though you were only winging it on the bake time for the pizza." 

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he listened to (Y/N)'s very true accusations. There had been something of a squabble over the bake time and temperature, as (Y/N) had supposedly googled the best combination of how long to let them sit under the heat and just how high the dial needed to be twisted while Harry swore by his own method. A wicked smile had curled his lips when he brought out the best end to the argument: his so-called experience.

"You're the worst," she challenged, shaking her head when she saw the quirking of his lips, "You just didn't want me to be right." 

"They turned out jus' fine, didn't they?" Harry countered, jutting his chin out in playful defiance.

(Y/N) muttered out a muted whatever, though the flutter of her lashes and sparkle in her eyes didn't diminish to go along with her faux-attitude.  

A warm silence settled within the dining room as they each took bites of their food, Harry unable to stop himself from looking at her through his lashes. He swore he even caught her drawing her eyes away at the last second during one of his peeks. 

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong," (Y/N) broke the silence, wiping her mouth of the pizza sauce that had collected on the corner, "but, I'm kind of happy you're not working right now. We've actually gotten to get to know each other now that you've been home." 

Looking at her, moony eyes with fluttery lashes and dewy skin glimmering in the sunlight leaking through the windows, Harry wanted to kiss her. That scared him. 

While it might not have been the first time he thought about what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), it had previously always been in the abstract, someone in his place before the fleeting thought was out of his head in a blink. But, this time... this time was it's own beast that has Harry's heart rattling against his ribcage like a criminal in a jail cell.

This time, he had a solid vision of himself, reaching across the dining table he had dinner with his wife at, fitting his hand around the back of (Y/N)'s neck—wedding band and all—before slotting his lips against hers. She was happy she'd had a chance to get to know him, and that was something he hadn't realized he'd ever wanted to hear.

And, that scared him. This was cheating, wasn't it? Married men don't think about kissing other women like that. They don't look across the table and try to pick out the glimmers in their neighbor's eyes, or wonder how soft her lips would be, or wish they could tuck their face into her neck and see if she really smelled like strawberry poundcake like the lotion on her bathroom counter suggested. Married men shouldn't do that. 

Harry swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze to his unfinished slice of misshapen pizza. 

"Is everything okay?" (Y/N) broached, speaking to him as if he were an injured animal, "I didn't mean to make you upset about work. I shouldn't have said it lik—" 

"No, no," Harry shook his head, a stray curl landing across his forehead, "'S not that, don't worry. I know what y'were trying to say." 

"Okay," (Y/N) sounded, the syllables coming out quietly as she placed her pizza down, "Is something else wrong then?" 

How was he supposed to explain to her that he crossed into territory that was too blurry to be safe for him—the one with the wedding band on his finger? She had no idea of what was running through his head as she spoke, the way his heart skipped a beat when she gave him attention he hadn't even known he'd been craving since she approached him in the garden weeks ago. At this pace, he was ruining two relationships at once: his marriage to Minerva and his friendship with (Y/N). 

"(Y/N), I..." he started, unable to think clearly with the way his heart crawled up into his throat. Was there an eloquent way to tell someone you can't see them anymore because you fear you might cheat on your spouse if you became any closer? Was there ever a good time to confess to having feelings for another woman while also cutting them off? 

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured, "you're worrying me. Can you at least tell me if you're alright?" 

"I d-don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, dropping his head into his hands that were propped up on elbows pinned to the table, "I don't—It might—... I think I might need to take a step back from you." 

Silence fell over the room once more, this time lacking the warmth that it had been filled with less than ten minutes prior.

"I... don't think I understand," she responded, sounding stiff. 

Harry shook his head in his hands, his hair fluffing around his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore, es-especially alone like this." 

Heat crawled up his features, starting at the base of his neck as he choked out the words. He couldn't even look at her, but he could fantasize about cheating on his wife with her? 

"Um, okay," (Y/N) said after a beat, words stilted, "I understand. May I ask why, though? Because if it was something I did, I want to apologize at least." 

He shook his head as she spoke. None of this was her fault. Never was an apology from her lips needed over this situation. He dared to peek up at her through the cage of his fingers, finding her with her gaze downcast and shoulders deflated. 

His tongue felt thick as he tried to speak around it, dry throat not helping any. He floundered over the honesty he knew he owed her. "It's jus'... 'M married and all, you know?" 

The pieces seemingly clicked together for (Y/N) without any extra explanation. She gave a slow nod of her head. "Right. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries, or anything. I didn't mean to." 

Before he could offer any consolation, tell her that the fault was all his own and she'd been nothing more than the sunshine he'd been aching for since he found himself on a clouded shore, but she was quick to pushed away from the dining table. She offered a polite thank you for lunch, before she was out of the house in record time; the sound of the door shutting behind her lingered longer than she did. 

Scrunching his eyes tightly, Harry couldn't help but dig the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of his eyelids. "Fuck," he whispered to himself in the empty house. In a burst of frustration at the feeling of tears filling his eyes as if he had earned the right to be upset over the entire situation, he slammed his fists onto the table. The china rattled on the surface, only joining in with the ruckus of the loud Fuck! he screamed into the void of his home. 

Slumping back into his chair, Harry stared up at the ceiling for who knows how long until he felt a nerve in the muscles pinch over the position. A labored breath was all he managed to pull into his lungs as he looked over the state of his home. 

He needed to clean up before Minerva came home.

—————

Harry pushed the pad Thai around in his bowl, chopsticks making a dull scraping sound against the porcelain. Minerva—surprisingly home for dinner, which he hadn't been anticipating—had her eyes glued to her phone with a curl to her lips. The house was filled with silence just the way it had been for the last week and a half since Harry brought on his own heartache. 

Since (Y/N) walked out, Harry hadn't been able to get her off his mind. 

Nothing had been the same since the sound of the door slamming after her reverberated through the house. He swore that a part of his heart walked right out after her, trailing behind the home it had been trying to make in the warmth of her. He lied awake that night, wallowing in the mistake he'd made on two women in his life he was supposed to care about and protect. He'd failed on both fronts. 

But, even after he cut himself off from the wallowing—he determined he didn't deserve more than a couple of days since this was all his doing—he found an ache lingering in his bones and a fog clouding his brain. He didn't want to eat, barely made sure he drank some water each day, and wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in the master bedroom though he never managed to actually sleep. If he wasn't distracted enough, his mind would wander too far away, waking up things he'd rather stay asleep. 

He could only recall feeling like this once before: when Minerva had changed, making it very clear she was no longer invested in him or their relationship. 

He was broken-hearted. Over losing (Y/N). 

Maybe he had more than a silly crush on her like he had thought. He found himself wondering in the aftermath if she was alright. Was she blaming herself? Was she keeping busy with her roommate? Was she taking care of herself? It only worried him when he saw her roommate walking the dog around the neighborhood, something that seemed to be (Y/N) job exclusively before this. When he told Minerva that (Y/N) wouldn't be hanging around much anymore, he remembered how angry he became when she laughed, the noise cruel, and said something about how it was about time she'd run off. 

How dare she? he recalled thinking. (Y/N) had never once said a single bad word about her, and yet Minerva couldn't even spare a question on why she wouldn't be over anymore or if something had happened. He'd shared the fact he'd made a real friend for the first time in years, and she didn't bother to ask what would be the cause of the separation, even going so far as to rub it in his face with an I-told-you-so-esque comment? Who was this person he had married?

But, in the end, (Y/N) sat at the forefront of his mind, stealing any selfish thought and reminding him of the real innocent in this situation. She deserved better. 

His feelings for her had been a lot more real than he even realized. If he had known, he liked to think things would have turned out differently for them. 

Holding back a sigh, Harry pinched a bean sprout between his chopsticks as he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands. 

"I heard back from that auto-body place I told you about," Harry offered, filling the silence with his raw voice. Minerva didn't even look up.

"Hm?" 

"That job I applied for—bookkeeping at that auto-body place just out of town. They emailed me back; I have a phone interview with them tomorrow," he shared, hoping the good news would at least make her happy. Maybe, that would be enough to get him out of his head, the static of the house surely not helping him feel normal. 

"Oh," Minerva sounded, a sour expression pinching her features, "You actually applied there? I thought I told you it sounded gross." 

Rolling his neck, he swallowed. "I know, but work is work and that's what I need right now. I can keep looking even if they hire me, I jus' need something right now." 

A roll of her hazel eyes was granted in response to his words. "It's like you don't even listen to me. Sure, you're unemployed, but do you not think it would look worse for you to work at some greasy mechanic? Harry, it's gross, and you would know that if you ever actually listened to me." 

Her biting words touched a nerve Harry didn't even know had been exposed. 

"I listen to you all the time, Minerva," he grumbled, voice low and controlled. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound rising from his chest.

She scoffed at his retort, her phone finally dropping from her hand as she sat up straight in her seat. "Excuse me?" 

"I said," he breathed, tempering himself before he raised his voice, "I always listen to you. Jus' like how I listened to you when y'said I wasn't trying hard enough and thinking too much of myself and not applying to jobs on my level. So, I broadened my search—like you asked—and found this place that would pay nicely and might appreciate what I could bring."

"Oh, now you're just blaming me, like it's my fault you couldn't find anything other than some slum to hire you. Stop being a dick, and just listen to wh—" 

"I am listening! I have listened for the last seven years! And, I don't want to listen anymore, Minerva!" 

It was like the universe knew about the changing tide, a sudden clash of thunder echoing outside that ramped up the storm that had been brewing in the clouds. The second the sky settled, Harry realized the tone and volume of his words and the fact Minerva hadn't said a single thing back, already feeling guilt in his system. 

"I shouldn't have shouted at you, 'm sorry, M—" 

"This is about her, isn't it? 

Harry was taken aback at the accusing tone of voice she used on him. Flicking his gaze between her eyes, he found the anger that had been brewing in her silence. She hadn't been scared or upset that he'd raised his voice—no, she was trying to find the best way to one-up him. 

"Who?" 

"The fucking neighbor you're so obsessed with. This is about her, isn't it? She's been telling you I'm the bad guy for wanting you to get a good job, is that it?" 

Stinging offense touched at Harry's chest. "This has nothing to do with (Y/N), leave her out of this, Minerva. She's never said a bad thing about you, you know that? When all you do is shit on her for no other reason than the fact she exists." 

"I have reason, Harry," she spat, leaning over the table as he voice grew, "Like the fact that my husband eye-fucks her every time she's around! Did you really think I didn't fucking notice?!" 

"'S not like that, Minerva, and you know it." Harry slid his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Why would you even care, anyway? 'S not like you even like me anymore." 

"Because you're my husband. You are mine, until I decide otherwise. Then you can sleep around with every girl you see—but until then, you have to listen to me." 

Harry didn't even realize a sheen had collected over his eyes, tears in his waterline as he just realized just how trapped he was in that moment, not until Minerva pointed it out to him. 

"Are you really about to cry, right now?" 

"I know you're cheating on me." 

The words slipped past his lips before he even realized they were on the tip of his tongue. He'd barely let himself think about what Minerva was really up to those nights she was getting drinks, or staying late to finish a project, let alone speak them aloud. But now, there they were. In the static silence of the dining room, he was tired of pretending and listening and hoping. 

Minerva seemed to be floored for a second, floundering over her words. "Don't try to turn this on me, Harry—" 

"I do your laundry, you know" he sighed, exhausted now that the biggest weight had left his chest, "I've seen what you wear those nights you're supposedly at the office until one in the morning." 

"Oh, so now I can't wear sexy underwear without your permission—" 

"And, remember when you insisted I share my location with you? Even went through my phone and did it all when I was in the bathroom." Harry swallowed at the memory, but he felt numb to the panic that began to rise in Minerva's eyes. "But, I can see your location, too. I know you're not at the office or whatever bar you pretend to get drinks at when you don't come home." 

She was stock still for a moment before Minerva crossed her arms heavily over her chest, slumping back into her chair. "Okay, and?" she spat, rolling her eyes as if this were another petty argument, "It's not like we haven't been over for years—sorry I wanted to feel loved for once." 

Harry didn't even pay her jabs any mind. None of this mattered anymore to his battered heart. 

"I want a divorce." 

"Harry, we've talked about this. It's no—" 

"I don't care about your job. I want a divorce." 

Venom filled her eyes as she locked her gaze on him.

"You only want this now that you have your little whore next door, isn't it? Yo—" 

"Minerva, please," he heaved, exasperated as his hands fell limp into his lap his neck rolling back to pin his gaze to the ceiling, "Why can't we just be happy? That's all I want. We get a divorce, and you can feel loved by whoever you want and I can get the fuck out of this house." 

Harry didn't look at her even as he heard the sound of her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Fucking fine, Harry," she spat his name out like bile, "Get the papers and I'll sign them—no contest, or whatever makes this fastest. But if you want to get out of this fucking house so bad, you can start tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep, asshole." 

With that, his soon-to-be ex-wife stomped upstairs, slamming the master bedroom door hard enough he was sure that his wedding photos would have fallen from the walls had this been a movie. The sickly silent house was filled with the sound of the pelting rain from outside, the interior lit up by lightning strikes and shook by the pounds of thunder. 

He needed to get out of here. 

It was as if he was on autopilot as he moved through the kitchen and out the front door with nothing more than his phone and keys. He didn't even realize where he was going until he was dripping wet with rain soaking him to the bone on (Y/N)'s door step.

He must have missed knocking on her door because he was surprised when he saw the door open wide with (Y/N) standing in her pajamas, concerned etched all over her face with his name forming on her lips.

"I'm getting a divorce." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he cut her off, taking in the rain-sodden man. The water dripping from his hair onto the stained wood of her porch mimicked the watery gaze he stared at her with. 

"Harry, you didn't because of m—" 

"No, no," he swallowed, his mouth working faster than his brain, "No, it's not-not because of you. I should have done this a long time ago, I just let her decide everything for me even if I hated it. You-You made me re-real again. I couldn't stay with her knowing I could be happy again somewhere—somewhere that wasn't with her." 

He watched through bleary eyes as her shoulders raised with a deep breath before she reached out to him. 

"Come inside, you're going to get sick," she murmured, a sad smile on her features that shouldn't have tugged at his heartstrings. 

Taking wooden steps, the cold finally registering on his skin now that the option of warmth was presented in her home as he crossed the threshold. Water dripped onto the hardwood that was identical to what was next door, but felt completely different in a space that actually knew happiness. A man was sat on the couch, long dark hair falling over his shoulder with a pinched mouth and wide eyes taking in the new visitor. 

"Harry," (Y/N) said, stepping around him once the door was locked and closed, "this is my roommate, Mitch. Mitch, this is Harry... our neighbor." 

Mitch nodded his head, rolling his lips between his teeth before he straightened up from his slumped position. "Nice to meet you," he smiled politely before his eyes slid to (Y/N), "I'm gonna go to my room, so if you need anything, just let me know." 

Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as they stood, seemingly waiting for the click of Mitch's bedroom door before (Y/N) unfroze. "Um," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she met Harry's gaze, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes to wear while we wash your stuff. Just... wait right here, but I'll be right back."

(Y/N) lingered for a moment longer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to go along with her softened features before she was padding up the stairs. It could have been two minutes or two years that it took (Y/N) to return from her search, but Harry had no idea about the difference. He only took note of her soft hands urging him towards the bathroom, a set of oversized clothing tucked into his arms she told him was her brother's. He wouldn't mind if Harry borrowed them, she assured him. 

Maybe it was the cold or the shock that lingered in his system that kept his joints stiff as he dressed. Once his wet clothes were nothing more than a puddle on the titled floor, heavy and thick with the new set cozied to his form, a hair too big, Harry stopped. With his hands braced on the lip of the counter, he spared himself a glance in the mirror. 

Bloodshot, glistening eyes. Wet, dark hair that lost its curl to the weight of the water. Ruddy cheeks. Swollen lips. He looked a mess. 

But, Harry couldn't remember himself ever looking so relieved. 

He carefully gathered his clothes into his arms, ensuring he didn't dampen his borrowed clothing as he exited the bathroom. (Y/N) was there in an instant, having been waiting just outside the door with a softened smile on her features as she offered to take his clothes, already grabbing for them before he'd even relinquished them. 

It wasn't until she returned from the laundry room, telling him something about the detergent, that Harry realized he was crying. Only because (Y/N) had pointed it out with a short gasp, hands instinctively reaching for him before she bundled them together at her chest. 

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're going through—" 

"C-Can I hug you?" 

(Y/N) didn't even hesitate before she was gathering him into her arms, Harry's head dropping to her neck with his body pressed flush against hers for no other reason than he hadn't been hugged like this in years. His breathing came in pants against her neck, fanning across her skin while his tears dripped over the curve. (Y/N) settled him as best she could, running a gentle hand over his back while the other swirled through his curls as best she could with their dampened state. 

"'M so relieved," Harry whispered to her when he found his voice, "'M so relieved. Thank you." 

Harry didn't know what he was thanking her for, and he was sure (Y/N) didn't either, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

—————

"Bye, Harry!" 

The delighted shouts that were called through the parking lot at the end of his work day brought a smile to Harry's face. He twisted on his heels, walking backwards for a moment as he waved for all the guys at the mechanic's yard to see. 

"See you all on Monday!" 

Harry couldn't remember ever loving his job the way he loved this one. 

The mechanic was full of some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life; some grumpy and a bit rambunctious—something he was sure they played up around their quiet accountant, as they called him—but none of them were anything less than welcoming since the day he was brought onto the team. He was excited on the days he worked in office solely because he got to see his friends. There were even nights they went out for drinks or went to a local venue to watch live music, something to relax into the weekend they always told him, and Harry was invited each time. How he worked in an office for almost ten years when this was out there waiting for him, he'd never understand. 

But, Harry didn't like to think about the before years. Thinking about all he missed out on wasn't going to bring back the wasted time, that's what his therapist had told him. 

It had only taken one night at (Y/N)'s and another week and a half at a hotel before Harry had another place lined up—how he was able to manage that, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to say no. It took him one weekend to get his things out of Minerva's house, have her sign the divorce papers he filed the days before, and it was over. His wasted time was up. 

As difficult as Minerva liked to be, when she was done with something, she wiped her hands clean. Just as she did with Harry. She was quick to come to agreements about their assets and belongings, staying true to her word about wanting to take whatever route would be the fastest out of the marriage. 

He didn't mind that she got the house and a sizable chunk of their savings. He could get all of that back, and nothing could compare to the relief and freedom he felt now that he was out of that oppressive house. 

Plus, it was cheaper to go grocery shopping for one. 

(Y/N) had been so encouraging through the first few weeks that Harry was trying to make sense of the new world he had called upon for himself. Never interfering or pushing him to do anything he didn't want to. Everything she told him was about his happiness—putting his happiness first. It was her idea that he reach out to someone to talk to about what happened during his marriage, and how to navigate making his own choices without heavy amounts of doubt pushing him back. 

He hadn't seen her much since the night he crashed at her place, knowing that he needed to spend some time with himself, clear headed and heart in his own hands, before he could be in her distracting presence again. He needed to be the best version of himself first before he could be anyone else's. But, she never backed away from him, always there when he needed her, even if just to talk to someone. 

Harry didn't worry about the dirt on his feet as he opened up the door to his apartment, only shucking off his shoes messily by the threshold. He'd get to them later. 

It'd been three months since he moved in, so the place was a little sparse, but it was perfect in Harry's eyes. He'd never lived by himself before. Everywhere he looked, it was him—his things, his family photos, his memories. He loved his little apartment, no matter if it was a downgrade from a two-story, three bedroom house. This was his first home. 

His clothes were left in the hamper as he changed into a comfy set of clothing. He could do laundry tomorrow, no worries, he reminded himself. He had more important things to do. 

Reaching under his bed, Harry grabbed the final unpacked box he had taken from the attic of the old house. Nothing more was written on the cardboard than Harry's Stuff in Minerva's handwriting. Flipping open the top, he found his university gear (really just a pair of sweatpants he swore got him through exams seasons without any complete failures), a set of messily colored pictures gifted to him from when his niece was only a baby, random items from his childhood, and a leather bound journal. 

The journal was wrapped tightly closed with a matching length of string. The cover was doodled upon with stars and quotes, Harry's name scrawled across the front of the book. It mimicked him, he realized; covered in sketchbook like drawings, but it was all him. 

Inside, he knew there were songs from years ago he probably didn't even remember writing. A smile touched at his features as he untied the string holding the journal together. 

But, before he could flip through the pages again, he knew he had to make a call. 

With his phone to his ear, the ringing echoed in his ears until he heard the telltale click.

"Harry!" (Y/N) happily chirped on the other side, "How are you?

Hearing her voice, he swore it was easier to breathe. "Hi, 'm doing good," he greeted her, voice dreamy and mellow, "Are y'doing anything tonight?"

A beat passed before she spoke again, the smile he could hear in her voice easy to imagine. "I don't think so, why?" 

He promised (Y/N) she would be the first he called when he found his music again. 

"I want to show y'something."

He was happy to wait for her. 

—————

this is....very different for me ngl HUSHFUSHF I had a very different direction I was thinking about when I started this and then completely went off the rails and turned into something sadder than anything else ive written so...thanks for sticking through it I guess shfushfush thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes (and the fact they don't even kiss ???)! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

[brighttears]

Finally

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Summary: After losing contact with your lover Joel and his brother for five years, Tommy finds you and brings you into Jackson. You reunite with Joel but it doesn't take long for him to project his insecurity onto you. You talk to Tommy about it until Joel comes and finds you. You have make up sex/five years overdue sex, and end with a shower that eases some feelings out of you as you relax in your new home with Joel

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: (18+, MINORS DNI) PIV unprotected sex, creampie, mating press, slight hair pulling, slight edging, dirty talk, Joel has a big ol weiner, pet names (baby, babygirl, good girl, sweet girl, darling, my love), you and Joel have an argument, ‘slut’ used derogatorily, accused cheating, brief drinking, kind of insecure!Joel, Tess doesn’t exist

A/n: this is the longest it’s ever taken me to post anything lol (and also the longest thing i’ve written i think?). the quality will not correlate I was messing around with like four other ideas this is the just the only one that got somewhere, also been having way less time to write and that will probably continue 3: also finally did smut (for the one person who has said they want me to lol love u)

—

Riding up to the gates of Jackson, you feel like a teenager on their first day of high school, distractingly nervous but drifted forward by hopeful butterflies. You grip the leather reins and look to Tommy riding beside you, he grants you a reassuring grin. In front of you, the gates, made of lines of thick logs with a large rusty lock, start to groan open. Tommy slips through before you and you follow him into a different world—a ghost and dream, lit up by string lights, appearing warm despite the winter, healthy and alive. Your focus, however, concentrates on the faces, many of which are looking back at your new one. Flicking from one to the next, your heart rises and falls with every one that isn’t Joel’s. Tommy’s promise has your senses perked up like an animal. 

Ahead of you on the road, you double take a man with his back to you. Despite this and his hair being too gray, his posture and step are unmistakable. 

“Joel,” you utter, soft, a reaction rather than a call out; it croaks out of your throat, dusty from all its time stuck there. Awakened, his name erupts from you then, “Joel,” 

The man stops dead, then whirls around, and you stop breathing because it is him. Unable to look away, you stumble off of your horse and begin to walk towards him. It’s silent, almost frighteningly so, even if it’s just in your head, because it makes it feel like a dream, like if you so much as blink he’ll be gone or you’ll be awake. 

Joel mirrors you, then jogs, you feel hot tears behind your eyes, and then you collide, grabbing at each other like you’re making up for every lost embrace from the past five years apart. He makes a sound, holding you with his cheek on the side of your head. You shake once with a cry, a mixture of shock that keeps your eyes wide open, though blind, actualization flowing through you and into your fingers digging into his thick coat and tangling in his hair, dregs of sorrow and resentment against time finally detaching like leeches, and love, powerfully swirling around everything inside of you. 

Then you hear his voice for the first time, “Oh, baby,” and your eyes squeeze shut and you start to cry, and he holds you tighter. You can’t stop it, fueled by relief in the intense familiarity of the pressure of his arms, his scent, his voice, the way he breathes. 

Once you’re breathing properly, Joel pulls away, holding your waist. He looks you over, making sure you’re real and here, and when you are, he slips a hand under your jaw and pulls your wet face into a kiss. For a moment your lips are simply pressed, frozen, overwhelmed, and then they move, and you kiss starved, revived. The feeling of sanctuary rekindling floods you, your face quivering with tears, and you have to pull apart for a breath. 

And Joel is still here, and you hold his face in your hands because he’s so beautiful and he’s finally here. You take in each other’s new features—wrinkles, grays, scars. You slide your thumb over his cheek, feeling his rough skin, and then you meet in the stars in each other’s blown out pupils. 

Simultaneously, you start to giggle, giddy, and then you guffaw, holding each other, and Joel pulls you back in. Tightly, he sways you like a doll, and you feel his laughter through his body like against a speaker playing heavy base. Being in his arms feels like life being unpaused. 

“Tommy!” He cries over your shoulder, still laughing, “Where the fuck did’you find ‘er?” Still held tightly against him, you can’t hear Tommy’s response, but then Joel repeats “Oh, baby.” and leans his head down to loudly kiss the side of your face.

You pull away and admire him. No image that you’d drawn up in your imagination compares to Joel in the flesh. Running your hand through his longer, silvered hair, you realize just how much you were missing out on. 

“I found you.” You whisper. 

He chuckles with a wide smile, “You found me.” And then takes you back to him, “I missed you so much, baby.” 

“I missed you to death.” You mumble into him. 

Tommy’s voice sounds nearby, chuckling “Don’t smother ‘er to death, we just got ‘er back!” You part and turn to look at him with a rawly genuine grin. A sincere smile curves back. You thank him through your eyes and he nods. Joel strides past you to hug his brother, long and meaningful. 

Then he turns to you, hand still on Tommy’s shoulder, and looks you up and down. “Come on, you must be freezin’, I’ll take you up to the house.”

“The house?” You question as he guides you back up the road.

“The house.” He confirms with an amiable smirk, hugging you to his side by an arm wrapped around you. 

—

“I know, I know!” Joel enthuses as he closes the door behind you, watching you turn in a circle, mouth agape, taking in the house, which is actually fully intact, walls and furniture alike, basically clean. It smells like Joel and his jacket hangs on the pegboard on the wall next to the door. An acoustic guitar leans against the couch, which has a blanket hung over the back, there’s a mug out on the table, probably still half full and cold—this is Joel’s house. 

“Look, look,” he calls and rushes to the kitchen sink. He turns the handle and water flows out in a powerful stream, and you stride over, mouth still open in astonishment. You put your hand under the faucet and feel the water heating up. 

“Hot water!?” You cry, and you both burst out laughing again in joyful gratitude. You stop suddenly and Joel turns off the faucet. “Does this mean… shower?” Joel gives you a dramatic frown, raising his brows and shrugging, then nods his head to the stairs. Tugging at his arm, you cry out his name, thrilled. He takes off and you race him up the steps. 

“I can get’chou some clean clothes easy—how long you been wearing those?” 

“Disturbingly long.” 

Joel laughs. “You meet Tommy’s wife yet?” He looks back at you shaking your head as he opens his bedroom door, “Well, she’ll take care a ya’.” He steps into the middle of the room and turns back to you and you magnetize, holding each other by your arms. “Man, when I first got here I just kept thinkin’ how much you’d love this place.” 

The image of that almost makes you blush and your heart swells, knowing that he was still yours while you were gone, playing house with an imaginary you. “Damn straight I do. Fuck, you’ve just been livin’ it up.” Looking over his face, you’re beginning to relearn it. 

“Well, I am now.” His expression shifts from excitement into contentment and he murmurs, “I missed you so much, baby,” 

Fitting together comfortably, you join for a kiss. 

The calm of the room allows you to experience your feelings wholly, inside and out; thus, a shared heat is overt and you strip your jackets, not parting lips and hurriedly reattaching your bodies. 

“Shit,” you breathe out, craving him and finally being satisfied at the same time as his warm, powerful hands move over you, sliding up and down your sides, your back, up your forearm as your hand brushes over his face and into his hair and with your other you squeeze his thick bicep. He walks you into the wall, clutching your middle to him with an arm wrapped around you. His other hand drags from your face down your neck, flush against your skin as he continues slowly lowering it further, past your collarbone. Your chest expanding in a deep breath lifts it into his hand and Joel swears, then repeats in a murmur, “I missed you so much baby.” You respond with a whimper and wetter kiss, pulling him ever closer, and he swears again, the hand on your back clenching the fabric of your shirt. Then he moves it to the underside of your leg, between your thigh and your ass, and lifts, holding your thigh next to his leg with your foot dangling, toes curling in your boot. Truth is, no one has touched you since Joel, save for yourself, so he’s driving you crazy right now.

Your mouths together compose a natural melody, one motion rolling into the next, constantly finding and looking for more and you’re obsessed again with his flavor. If this lasted forever you wouldn’t even notice. But, just as he moans into your lips, Joel suddenly pulls back and holds you away by your waist.

You rest your hands on his forearms. “Joel?” You inquire, catching your breath, and then slide a hand over his cheek and under his chin to lift his head, looking for some kind of communication from his expression. He meets your eyes for only a second before he lets go of you completely, turning away and walking to the other side of the room. 

You stay where you are, granting him space. “Joel? What’s wrong?” He turns to you but his head is bowed. “…Joel?” Anxiety scratches at your heart and you wipe your mouth. 

Sighing heavily, he slowly rubs his hand over his face before finally speaking up, “Look… before we… go any further, I gotta ask…” he leans his hand on the short dresser and when he looks up his expression is unexpectedly serious. “Is there someone else?”

It takes you a couple seconds to put it together, but you ask anyway, just to make sure, “…What do you mean?”

Instantly, he replies, “You know what I mean.” Firmer this time, he repeats, “Is there someone else?” Confounded, you’re tongue tied, and he takes it as confirmation of his suspicions. “There is, isn’t there?” He almost sneers.

The atmosphere has shifted dramatically; just a few minutes ago he was laughing brightly with you, and about thirty seconds ago he was caressing you, amorous and loving.

“Are you joking?” Joel’s face says ‘what do you think?’ and you screw your own face up. “Are you asking me if I have some secret partner?” You ask once again just to be sure. He says nothing, only looks on unrelentingly and puts his hands on his hips, bent knee sticking out. You laugh coldly. “Holy shit.”

Near monotone, he asks, “Why’s that funny?”

“I just—wasn’t expecting this, at all, I mean this is just… do you realize how much of a jackass you’re being right now?” You pause, he says nothing. “Well, I’m not having a fucking affair. Okay? Jesus.” 

Joel huffs, keeping stoney eye contact, and grinds his teeth. You let him brew in the silence. Still, after all this time, you can read him like a book—he has convinced himself that you found someone better while he was gone and have come back only to blow sand in his eyes, and then you’re going to run off to your new, superior lover, leaving him on his ass in the mud. And although he doesn’t want it to be true, he always puts so much faith into awful assumptions, and he hates being wrong. 

You sigh in understanding but speak to him sternly, “Joel, you are making this shit up in your head and just putting it on me. That’s not fair. Don’t do this. There’s no reason to do this.”

Defensively, he suddenly raises his voice, “I jus’ wanna make sure I’m not steppin’ on any toes.” With a bite, he finishes, “I’m jus’ sayin’, if there is someone else, now’s the time to leave.” 

Your expression turns unsympathetic, brow pinched and mouth parted in amazement, and then you counter venomously, “I don’t know who you think I am. I don’t know what kind of twisted version of me you’ve created in your head. Are you trying to call me a fucking slut? That’s the kind of narrative you've thought up? That’s what you’ve been thinking about while I’ve been gone—me betraying you?”

Joel’s eyes are closed and his head is shaking before you even finish, pinching his brow with two fingers, “No, no,”

You cut right back in, “Alright, well that’s what it fucking sounds like to me so I am going to leave now—not to run off to some paramour,” you spit, “but because you’re being a fucking asshole and need to run this one back through before you talk to me again.” 

“W–wait,” He tries, but you’ve already spun on your heel, snatching up your jacket, and rush out with heavy footsteps. You don’t bother closing his front door behind you and don’t look back, not hearing anything either. 

You don’t know this town yet, but you keep the same pace you left Joel’s with and just follow the road, packed white with hard snow. The sharp air makes your eyes water and you swipe your hands at them blurring your vision. Your breaths, fast with your fiery heartbeat, blow steamy clouds like puffs of white smoke. 

You stop the first passerby you see, “There’s a bar here, right?” Your tongue hasn’t fully cooled yet and you try not to sound harsh. You’re almost out of breath. 

“Yeah,” the tall woman’s voice is mousy and she tucks stray black hair into her hat, then turns and points, “just follow this road, you’ll come to Main Street, it’ll be on your right.” As she turns her head back to you she adds, “It’s called the Tispy Bison.”

“Thank you.” you nod, do your best to smile, and continue on.

—

A rush of warm air blows out through the door swinging open and your nose starts to run as you step into the Tipsy Bison. It appears very ‘American’ themed, with its warm, inoffensively red walls, everything country–style wood, and taxidermy wall mounts. Crowning bright soda fridges are neon red Coca–Cola logos. A few lively groups are scattered about, talking and laughing. Blinking into the reality of the massive dining hall, you wipe your nose with your sleeve; it’s so much like the world before and for some reason it intimidates you. As you scan the room, you spot Tommy at the bar and remember you’re thirsty.

He smiles when he notices you approaching but it fades and he furrows his brow as he regards your expression. You slip into the chair next to him and he turns his torso to face you, one arm resting over the back of his seat, the other on the bar with a beer in his hand.

A gravelly voice from behind the bar asks, “What can I get ya?” and you turn to a friendly looking woman with thick, coily hair and dark teeth.

“Surprise me.”

“Gotcha. Comin’ right up.” She smiles and moves away. 

Turning your attention back to Tommy, his brow is still furrowed, as it is most of the time, really, and he bites his lip. “Trouble in paradise?”

You turn forward to rest your elbows on the bar and slide your head through your hands, pulling your cheeks, then resting them on the sides of your head. “Your brother’s being a little shit.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at that. What’e’do?”

During the time you’d been with Joel, you became close with his brother, too. Tommy has always been easy to talk to and you pick right up where you left off. It’s nice to have someone to talk candidly to about Joel, and you’re sure he feels the same. 

“Same kind of shit he always does—assume the worst in everyone and stick them with it for no fucking reason.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty classic Joel.” He sips his beer and smacks his lips. “You know he does really love you, though.”

“No, I know, I mean, I can tell even with this,” you remove your hands from your head and turn to him, “he’s accusing me of having ‘someone else’,” you air quote as you confide, “like I’m having a fucking affair. Came outta nowhere.” Looking to the side to blow out a breath, your eyes automatically flick around your surroundings.

“He’s just insecure.”

“I know. It’s not like I’m cutting him off or anything, and I want to stay in Jackson, I just told him to… cool off, in so many words. You know I love him too, I just had to fucking leave.” 

Just then, the voice sounds again beside you, “Here’s that surprise for ya.” She places a short, ribbed glass in front of you, a blood orange drink on the rocks. 

“Thank you.” You immediately take a swig and it’s bittersweet and smooth. 

As you do, Tommy says, “Yeah, good call. He just needs to get checked sometimes, y’know? He’ll figure it out. He’s just… yeah, he’s insecure.”

Looking down into your drink, you add, “He hates himself.” and spin the glass over the smooth bar. “That’s his worst quality. That’s the only thing I would change about him.”

Tommy sighs. “I think what makes it worse for him is how much he loves you.” He shakes his head, “He just gets so damn scared. He has no idea how strong he is, how good he is… I think we see a real different version of him than he does.” You nod. There’s a beat of silence before he continues, “It’s just… loss, y’know? It’s like he just wants’t’ beat it to the punch. He always feels like he’s doin’ sum’n wrong. Always thinkin’ it’s his fault.” 

You nod again. “You said it: he sees a real different version of himself than we do. I just wish I could…” you suck your teeth and turn to him, “I keep trying to talk him out of it, you know? Do you think that works?”

He looks down to think for a while, then looks back at you and concludes, “I think… it’s gotta be him.” 

You nod, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

To lighten the mood, Tommy smiles, “Well, don’tchou worry, he’ll be crawlin’ back t’you with his tail between his legs any second now.” You ‘psh’, looking ahead and admiring the warm-toned colored bottles shelved on the wall. Then he adds, “You’ll never lose ‘im, you know.”

You sip your drink and roll his words around with it, full, mellow, but strongly bittersweet. You and Joel had been separated for a long time, wherein all you had was faith, and you gripped that rope tight and never let go, just like he would for you, just like he did for Tommy. Joel has yet to let you down—he’s fucked up many times, but he’s never let you down, because he puts his heart into everything he does; it’s maybe his most admirable and most troubling trait. He loves so hard it hurts, sometimes not just him. You’ll never run out of patience though, because he’s your Joel, and you love him to death. He hit you like a bullet, quick and good, and he’s lodged somewhere inside of you, unretrievable. 

“Speak a the devil.” Tommy’s voice breaks you out of reflection, looking past you, and you turn to see Joel, halfway in the doorway, devastating eyes and all. For a moment you just watch him, awkward in the doorway, admiring his presence, but you keep a straight, neutral face. You look back at Tommy as you take a last swig of your drink and he smiles with understanding eyes. 

Hopping down from your stool and strolling towards Joel, you have to bite hard back a smile, though you’re still pissed. Catching him doing the same, you briefly question why you have to do this dance instead of just leaping back into each other, mixing into your color and staying like that in his bed, which must be so soft and comfortable and warm with him in it. He is so god damn beautiful and it’s been so long that your hands twist nervously behind your back and you feel yourself blushing, so you turn your head down as you near him. You have good reason to show him you’re upset, though—the dance is important. 

“Can we talk?” He asks you, voice entirely soft. 

You look up at him, pause, and then nod. Joel turns back outside slowly and does more than he needs to to hold the door for you.

Winter is near its end but you’ve arrived just in time for a cold snap; the wind has picked up significantly in the short time you’ve been inside, icey and sharp, and you bend your head down against it and hug yourself. Joel starts to put his arm around you but pulls away, glancing at you with awkward steps towards his house. 

“Hold me.” You answer, so he does, arm around your shoulders, curving himself around you as the wind whips. The man is a living furnace, you can feel it even like this. 

—

It’s silent until you’re back in Joel’s house, too cold and windy for any kind of conversation. Adjusting to the indoors, you both blow out sighs, and Joel impulsively helps you out of your coat and hangs it on the peg next to his on the wall by the door. Then he just stands awkwardly; he’s never been good at this. What’s important, though, is that he’s trying. Waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, you lean against a wall with your hands behind your back. After a moment, he looks around, sucking his teeth, and then moves ungainly to sit in a chair at the table. You follow and sit across from him. More silence, he fiddles with his hands on the table in front of him and grinds his teeth. Under the table, you run a finger back and forth over the wood’s grooves on its apron. 

“Okay,” he starts, then pauses, keeping his gaze on his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounds rehearsed, like he said ‘I’m sorry’ in his head twenty times before he spoke it. “I was wrong. I didn’t mean t’… I mean I’d be pissed too, if you said sum’n like that to me. I know that’s not you. I was jus’… scared,” he wills the word out, looking off to some spot on the floor, “You’re right, I,” he pauses, then motions his hand up in circles next to his head, “I jus’, made this whole story up in my head. I mean we haven’t even talked about, y’know, what’s happened in the past five years. I have no idea what you did or didn’t do, and it’s not my business unless you want it to be. I jus’, I don’t know,” he shifts back in his chair and fiddles with his hands again, “I was just afraid that y’d… forgott’n about me or found someone better or, uhh…y–y–”

Watching him start to fumble over his words, you decide that now is an ok time to cut in, starting quiet and gentle, “I didn’t.” Joel looks at you as you speak, his brow furrowed up. “I never forgot about you. I thought about you every day. I was scared, too, I didn’t know anything about how you were doing or where you were, I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, but I just lived like I would. I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to. And there’s no one better, Joel,” you slide your hand over the table to take one of his. He unclasps them to fold it in and watches his thumb stroke over your hand. “You are the only one. What I feel for you can’t be touched. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could be with anyone else. But I didn’t try. All I did was miss you.”

At that, Joel takes your hand with both of his, taking a deep breath, and then leans in to place soft kisses over your knuckles, peering up at you as he does. A bolt in your core throbs heat into the rest of your body and you feel slightly dizzy. Again, you haven't had any kind of touch like this since the last time you were with Joel, so you’re starving for it, but above all, for Joel. His lips are gentle, his hands are warm and burly folded around yours. 

You slip your hand out of his and get up from the table. He watches you walk to his side to fix your level of separation and he stands and joins you back into an embrace. 

You sink into each other, bodies and minds fusing as if you were never apart. You match temperatures so all you feel is the pressure of his hands sliding up your back, under your shirt. In his hold, your back is arched and your hips are met; there’s barely any space between your bodies at all. You hold onto his face, running your hands over it, messing up his hair, focusing on his lips, letting him do the work on your body. Joel places a hand on the front of your thigh and starts slowly dragging it up. You twitch under it, desire like a lightning storm around under his touch. You nearly jerk into it and he finally slides his broad hand flush between your thighs. Your head falls back and he doesn’t miss a beat, moving his lips on your neck, and it forces a moan out of you. 

“You like that?” He says into your skin, barely out of a kiss, nose pressed against it. 

“Yes,” you whine, “please, oh my god.”

You feel Joel smile into your neck and he nips it. “Jump up.” You do, his hands out and ready to catch your thighs. This was a regular trick of yours and apparently your bodies haven’t forgotten it. As he starts for the stairs, you lean yourself over his shoulder. The placement of his hands are in both the best and worst spot, splayed just barely over every area you want him to touch. You hold onto his neck as he brings you upstairs and laugh when he kicks his bedroom door open, making it bang loudly against the wall. Once you drop back down to the ground, you connect your mouths again and immediately start to strip. While you struggle with the buttons on his shirt he undoes his belt and jeans and then yours. You rip his flannel off of him, annoyed at it, and then slide your hands under his shirt. You feel over his chest, around his back, and up his sides, relishing in it, and he chuckles into your lips before helping you pull it off. He wastes no time on your shirt, loving that you’re braless, caressing your chest, and then pulls you in, pressing your bare fronts together. You moan in the satisfaction of feeling him like this again. His calloused hands run smoothly up your back and on their way down pass briefly under your waistband. You raise him by slipping your hand all the way into his jeans, cupping his hardening cock. He swears into your mouth as you find hold of it. It electrifies you further, having forgotten about this part of him. Quickening breaths deepen the rise and fall of your chest against his.

He pulls his lips from yours and his voice is gruff when he says, “You’re killin’ me darlin’.”

The tone and the way he’s hardening in your hands is driving you wildly lustful and you tell him frankly, voice pitched high, “I want you so bad Joel I love your cock I need you to fuck me,” all of this wet into his lips. 

Immediately, Joel tugs down your pants, but when they’re at your knees, he pulls away to look at you and he says “Boots.” You both laugh breathily and sit down on the edge of his bed—your pants still halfway down—undoing your laces hastily. He finishes first and then helps you untie the laces of your other shoe, both of you chuckling with heavy breaths. You kick them off and then Joel moves in front of you, taking hold of the cuffs of your jeans to pull them off. Once they are, in one swift motion, he opens your legs up with his in between them, and, still standing but leaning over you on the bed, he slips his hand back between your legs. He places it flush against you through your underwear, which would be embarrassingly dirty, but who fucking cares? They’ll be gone soon anyway. Joel’s mouth opens amorously, watching your eyes as you let out a long, embarrassingly pornographic moan at the raw enough contact. He slides down deeper, the heel of his hand pressing lightly and thrillingly on your clit and you gasp into another moan. He grins and then leans his head down to your neck, dragging his tongue up its full length.

“Fuck,” you drawl involuntarily as a shiver runs through you and you hook your arms under his to claw his back. When Joel slides his hand back up between your legs, wetness seeps from your slit. Joel chuckles erotically, his breath over the line of his saliva on your neck making it worse and your legs open wider. The heat under his hand matches that in your chest and your breaths are more desperate in want of him.

Fed up of him taking it so slow, you slide your hands under him and push him up, holding onto his biceps to pull you up with him as he stands, and lick into his mouth. Your other hand goes straight into his pants and under his briefs, teasing him like he had you. When he moans into your mouth you squeeze only slightly and then slowly move your hand up until your thumb comes to the spot just before the underside of his tip. You begin working it like that, teasing him wet and sensitive in your hand. 

Joel pulls his face away from yours, eyes closed, and breathes out “Shit.” He squeezes the arm reached down and moves his hips into your hand. You keep at it, biting your lip watching him. “Ah, oh, fuck,” he mumbles, almost sluring his words, and warns, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” when you do stop, he groans. 

Bringing your hand away from him, you settle it on his belly and wrap your other arm around his neck to nuzzle your face into it and mumble, “I missed your cock so much, I miss feeling it, I wanna see you cum,”

“Fuck.” Joel states, then commands, “Lay back on the bed.” You do as you’re told, propping yourself up with your forearms behind you on the bed and watch him drop his pants. Finally naked, his cock bounces to flip onto his stomach, reaching just under his belly button; dark curls hide everything else. Your sigh is almost a moan just looking at him, like a meaty roman sculpture of the exemplary man. His brow shadows sultry eyes and, like an animal in heat, you open your legs, peering up at him needily.

He slowly crawls over you and whispers, “Move up for me darlin’,” nodding his head to the side for you to lay properly on the bed, head on his pillow. He reaches past you to click on the bedside lamp and then sits up on his knees, admiring you under the golden–yellow light. He places a large hand on your stomach, adding pressure as he slivers it up to fondle your chest.

You appreciate the sentiment, but you have plenty of time for slow, worship sex, and right now, “Joel please I need you to fuck me,”

Smirking, he growls, “Since you asked so nice,” and lowers himself onto you, kissing sluggishly. He doesn’t bother to remove his face from against yours to take your underwear off, just tugs at them until they find their way to slip off. Then, as he positions himself, your thigh slides over his—it’s small, but something about it makes you sigh sensually.

“You ready for me baby?” Joel asks, hovering his lips over yours.

You could come up with some clever remark but now is not the time, so you simply whine, “Yes, Joel, please, I need you,”

“Yeah?” He says, low and lazy, and then moans softly as he eases his thick length into you. Deep satisfaction flows through you as he fills you up, humming and moaning. Your foreheads press together as you adjust, both your mouths wide open, and Joel’s fist clutches the sheets next to your head. He brings himself back out slowly until only his tip is inside you, and then his free hand clutches your side as if to hold you in place as he reinserts himself and begins thrusting, now only barely pulling any length out before plunging back in. Your lungs jump and clumsy moans pour out of you as the force of it rocks your hips. 

Joel licks your cheek and then, grabbing hold of your hips to keep himself inside you, pulls himself to sit on his knees. Stretching your arms up, you bear yourself to him, and his mouth has yet to close. He bites his lip before starting to fuck you again, both harder and faster, holding your lower back completely off of the bed. 

“Only me, huh?” He says, breaths bumping as he drives himself into you, “I’m the only one that touches you?”

“Yes,” you moan out. 

“You touched yourself, though did’n you?” You answer in the same way, “You thought about me while you did, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” you sound, high pitched as he starts to fuck you harder. 

“Did it feel this good?”

“No,” your drawn out answer catches with the force of his hips pounding against you. 

Joel’s head falls back as he speeds up and you already feel yourself start to constrict around him. 

“Shit,” he looks back down at you, hums aggressively, and slows his pace dramatically. “No baby, not yet, not yet.” As he pulls out fully, precum flicks onto your stomach and he drops your hips. Back down on top of you, your body weighs into the bed under his and your mouths bond again.

Joel can’t keep his cock out of you for long, though, keeping up messy kisses, each rolling into the next in a flux, he shoves his hand down to slip back into you and fucks a quick tempo that makes the bed creak. One of his hands stays planted on the bed next to your head and the other goes back to hold your hip, pulling you into him with each of his thrusts. Angled slightly up inside of you, he hits a spot that produces a guttural moan from you, and while your mouth is wide open with it, Joel doesn’t quit biting and licking at your lips. 

Your body reacts without you, your hand slithering over him—up his arms, his torso, his back, one landing to grip his hair and the other reaching at his hip. The way he bucks into you now hinders your ability to kiss but your faces rub and touch, sharing the same hot air, moaning over each other. 

After one loud, long moan, Joel pulls out of you again in a swift motion, moaning through pants. 

“Joel why the fuck do you keep stopping,” you slap your palms on his chest in frustration, legs still spread under him. 

“Well I js’ don’t wanna cum too fast,” he answers innocently.

“Joel I have been waiting five years…” he starts to chuckle and you smile, “for you to cum.” You slap his chest again and then decide to take this matter into your own hands, pushing him up to get yourself on top. You straddle him, his cock resting stiff and shining on his stomach. Back up at his face, you look into dark eyes, his lips parted with heavy breaths, and you slide your fingers through his hair, gripping a bunch, silver strands highlighted in the light. Keeping eye contact, Joel’s fingers trail lightly down either of your sides as you sit up, sliding his joystick into your hold, and he hums as you sit down on it. After adjusting to his throbbing size, you come up and back down slowly a few times, and then begin swinging your hips to fuck him. A loud, long moan cracks out of him and he closes his eyes and seizes your hips. You release his hair and instead hold into his thick, veiny forearms like handlebars as you accelerate. He moans, long and loud again, and, keeping up a beat with your hips, you lay down on him, pressing your body against his, and eat the moans from his mouth. He adjusts his hold by wrapping an arm around the middle of your back to hold you down and squeezing your ass with the other as if to help your hips along. To keep yourself stabilized enough to keep your mouths together—you could barely call it kissing anymore, just sliding tongues and lips however you can—you plant your hands on the bed with your arms like you would doing a pushup. 

Even though you’re on top, Joel is in control now, holding you to fuck up into you.

He angles his head down so that your foreheads stay pressed but he can speak, “Fuck babygirl you feel so good, so fuckin’ tight, I fill you up so good, huh? Pussy’s just for me to cum in, huh? All fr’ me? All mine? Can you tell me you’re all mine?” His words and breaths catch with the rhythm of the surging flux of your bodies rolling together. You feel his muscles jolting in his lower abdomen as he drives in and out and those in his arm twitching against your back with the force of it. The way he fills you is carnally satisfying and overdue and you never want it to stop.

“Yes, yes, all yours, all for you, my pussy’s all for you—fuuck—yours, my pussy belongs to you,”

“Thas’ right, babygirl, you belong to me.” He takes your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls your mouth back to roll his tongue into and unfurls his arm around you to grasp a bundle of hair. 

Suddenly, he maneuvers you to flump your back on the bed, bringing himself back on top, and immediately stuffs himself back into you. He grips your hips again to fuck you like he was before, controlling you like a doll, and you grab onto his wrists.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he continues, fucking with an immediately brutal pace, hitting you somewhere deep and perfect but he’s talking over you too much to be able to tell him you’re going to cum, “I was so spolied, I didn’ realize how spoiled I was with this lil’ pussy,” he bumps you hard and rough a couple times to emphasize, “perfect lil’ pussy on my perfect lil’ girl, my sweet girl, so good to me,” Joel tilts forward, keeping himself securely deep between your legs, and releases one of your hips—which you would not be surprised to be bruised exactly in the form of his fingers—to stroke his hand over your cheek, and then gently hooks his thumb in your mouth, pulling your lip out to the side. “Now I get t’ fuck you every fuckin’ night, cause you’re all mine n’ I’m all yours, gonna make you cum every fuckin’ night,” your hips inadvertently lurch against him and you bark a moan and his thumb trails out of your mouth as your head leans back onto the bed. You haven’t had your body move like this in awhile, an animal in and of itself, innately greedy for its mate. Joel sounds almost excited when he says, “Ooh, oh, you gonna cum babygirl?” He sits back on his calves rather than standing on his knees and readjusts his hold on your hips, hands digging into the flesh defining your waist to your hips, and pulls you into his rough, uncoordinated thrusts, driving the entirety of his shaft into you so deep that you feel pressure pushing up in your stomach with each rocking tug. He pants out moans, watching you attentively as your face screws up while you reach your personal crescendo. 

The only time you feel this desperate for something is when you’re about to die—such a blind need, a moment stretched out that you will to continue until you are satiated, and oh does Joel deliver. 

“Go on babygirl, go on n’ cum for me, cum around my cock, be a good girl an’ show me you’re mine, I wanna make you cum, baby cum for me, cum for me,” 

His pleading encouragement is more than enough to pierce the balloon swelling in your stomach, already being bumped rapturously by his manhood. One of your hands is thrown back, grasping at the sheets, the other remaining around his wrist. Your eyes roll back in your head, you suck in a breath and there is a moment of silence, save for the creaking bed, before you break it with a ridiculous, long moan, perceiving only the bursts of ecstasy from Joel’s messy pace, which he quickens with breathy moans. Your contractions around him are dramatic, essentially sucking his dick inside of you like instinct. He pulls you against him and is mostly still besides his hips, which rapidly lurch, drawing out your orgasm to overlap with his. He falls silent again, mouth open and his brow furrowed, eyes also nearly rolled back in his head, as he mechanically glides short in and outs, nearly all of him buried inside of you, pulling back an inch at a time at most as he uses your trembling, sheathlike pussy to stroke out his cum. Then, as his hips jerk forward, leaning into you, and then jerk in again, moans squeeze out of his throat, and he finishes pressed into you. 

Panting, you stay pressed and gaze at each other, more or less astonished. 

“God damn.” Joel is the first to comment.

You laugh, out of breath, feeling him ooze inside of you. “We really get to do that every night.”

“My god I’m in heaven.” He half jokes with a smile, then relaxes your position with a huff, letting his softening length fall out and rest over you. Joel runs his hands up and down your body in two broad strokes, looking you over, then smirks and chuckles breathily. Then he slaps your thighs and simply offers, “Shower?” and laughs as your face lights up.

“Fuck I almost forgot about that!” You grin with wide, excited eyes, and follow him off the bed, squeezing your legs together a little, still filled with his cum, as you walk to the bathroom attached to Joel’s room. You admire the back of him as he turns the squeaky knobs. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve gotten this kind of full view of him; as many times as you’ve been naked with each other, it’s almost always had to have been somewhat ducked and rushed. His back is casually muscular and he has ever so slight love handles. A knee bent outwards shows off a round ass. 

Hearing the water start to spray, you can’t help a giggle, eager, and he twists to you with a smirking grin and laughs. 

“Oh man,” he chuckles as he turns his back, meticulously adjusting the temperature, then twists his head again, looking at you expectantly, “Well come on, then,” and you patter over. He gently takes your hand to lead you into the square stall, and moves behind you to slide the glass door shut. 

There is no need for him to walk you through the process of taking a shower, but he slowly guides you under the spray anyway, and you gasp as it hits you, still heating up, not used to the sensation. You hadn't realized that it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten how a shower feels and it disturbs you slightly, feeling a little feral versus Joel’s domesticated cleanliness, but his light, absent minded smile eases the thoughts out as he walks in a few slow steps, backing you up to join you under the showerhead’s broad spray. He leans his head back, closes his eyes under the water, and lets go of you to smooth his hair back as the water soaks it. When he opens his eyes again, he smiles at you and smoothes his hands over your wet face. 

“Turn around,” he nods, and you do. He stops touching you, leaving you unnerved for only a moment until his hands come back over your upper back, cool soap gliding them over your skin. He squeezes your shoulders lightly and it makes you sigh, then slides his hands over your shoulders, up and down each arm individually, adding more slight, relaxing pressure, and then his hands follow the personal downward design of your body as he shifts his body against your back. Stubble tickles your neck and you giggle as he nudges in to place innocent kisses over your neck while he washes your chest, then slipping soapy hands down your sides to your waist, hips, and what he can reach of your thighs. Humming out a deep sigh, you feel dazed and limp under the hot, deeply relaxing water. Joel embraces you from behind, just resting his face in your neck, standing still with his arms around you. 

Suddenly, you’re hit with the urge to cry. This is the safest you’ve felt in a long, long time. Not only are you in Jackson, a secure compound where you can go see a friend for a drink and take a hot shower with the promise of fresh clothes, but your love is finally with you, solid and warm, holding you with strong arms and gentle lips. You can’t hold it back, and when Joel feels it he removes himself and turns you around. “What’s wrong babygirl?” concern contorts his face. 

Smiling as much as your crying allows, you answer, “Nothing.” 

Understanding, Joel pouts his lips in an emotional smile and pulls you back in, hooking his arms under yours to support your weight, and your arms follow up around his neck. “I know.” You let it go and weep quietly against him. “It’s alright baby. I got’chou. You’re alright, darlin’.” He reassures you. After a couple minutes, you calm, suddenly very tired, barely opening your eyes when Joel pulls away. “Oh, baby,” he chuckles, “don’t go to sleep in the shower. Lemme finish you up real quick, then you can go to bed n’ I’ll get you some new clothes from Maria.”

“No,” you murmur, “don’t leave me.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you back in, “I’ll stay with you. I’ll never leave you.” He sighs serenely into the crook of your neck. “You can just borrow some’m my clothes, n’ I’ll talk to Maria in the mornin’. Okay?” You nod. “Alright, baby,” he readjusts his embrace around you, “let’s just get into bed, we can give you a proper shower later. Plenty a time. You can take a shower every day if you want, a hot shower every day. An’ I’ll stay with you every night. Jus’ like like this.” Joel’s hands rub up and down your body, “Warm like this. Every day will be warm jus’ like this now, my love.”

[fastandcarlos]

Baby On The Cards : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: with so many children all around him, george can't help but wonder when one of his own might arrive. but are you on the same page as george is?

Your smile was wide as you waved goodbye to the young fan who had joined you in the Mercedes garage, watching as George led her away to where her parents waited before returning back to your side. “She was adorable,” George chuckled as he took a seat beside you. 

“I think you might have a new biggest fan.” 

“No way,” George shrugged, throwing his arm across your shoulders, keeping his eye on her as her family walked away. “There’s something about young kids when they shout out at me, I just can’t help but pay attention to them.” 

“That’s because you’re such a lovely driver,” you smiled, resting your head against George’s shoulder. “There’s a reason why so many kids love cheering you on.” 

George nodded as the two of you fell silent. His mind began clouded, staring down at the floor as he heard the yells of several other children across the paddock as they bumped into their favourite drivers. It was part of the job that George loved, he couldn’t get enough of interacting with young fans and making their dreams come true. 

“I’d love to know what skills you’ve got that make you so charming with kids,” you remarked. 

“I guess I just love spending time with them, that’s all.” 

“I can tell,” you noted, unable to deny how much George loved being around them. “I know you hate always having to say goodbye to them though, don’t you?” 

George nodded once again as he remained quiet, slightly lost in his own little world. Your eyes studied him closely, noticing just how lost in his thoughts he seemed to be, knowing exactly what was going on through George’s mind as you watched him too. 

There had been little secret made from George that he saw his future filled with children, and as he found himself getting older, and seeing some of his friends begin to settle down too, George couldn’t help but wonder when his own dreams would start to come true. 

After a few moments, your hand rested on George’s thigh to get his attention. “Do you want to tell me what’s suddenly got you looking as if you’re about to spiral into some deep thoughts?” 

George’s eyes flickered to look at you, “it’s no big deal, just having a bit of a daydream.” 

“George,” you softly spoke, sending a glare across at him. “I know you better than you know yourself, tell me what’s on your mind?” 

You could see him wondering, weighing up whether he wanted to open up to you or not. Out of the two of you, George was absolutely the one that voiced his desire to have children a lot more than you did, almost leaving him wondering sometimes whether you wanted it at all. 

“If you don’t talk to someone, you’re just going to be thinking about it in the car later,” you added, knowing the effects his thoughts had had on his performances before. 

“Let’s move on,” George suggested, trying to stand, only for you to pull him back again. “It’s not something that we need to talk about right now anyway.” 

Your head shook as George continued to speak, “you’re worrying me George, why does this feel like it’s something pretty important that’s bothering you?” 

“Because in the long run, it is,” he admitted, “and I don’t want to sit here and hear things I don’t want to hear.” 

You reached across and took a hold of George’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, silently asking him to open up to you. 

“I spend all this time with young children, but they’re not mine,” George finally confessed, “and I know it’s not an easy thing, but I guess I just can’t help but wonder what these days would be like if the children around me were mine.” 

Your smile turned up as George spoke, leaving him confused beside you. “You know, I think about those moments too and how cool they’ll be one day.” 

“You’ve thought about it?” George asked in surprise, his eyes going wide. “You’ve never really spoken about children, I thought they were something that you weren’t too interested in having.” 

Although you didn’t make it quite as well-known as George, a family with him was high on your list of priorities. When you watched him with all of the fans around the paddock, you couldn’t deny how heartwarming it was and how much you loved seeing the way he made so many of his young fans smile so wide.  

Your response sent a wave of relief over George, your response was completely unexpected for him, but unexpected in the best possible way. To hear you were on the same page as him was all that he had ever wanted. 

“I think about it a lot,” you smiled, “I think it’s only natural to think about these things with where we are now.” 

“But you’ve never told me.” 

Your smile was soft as George shifted so that he was sat facing you. “It feels like it’s an expectation to have a family now, but I want to do all of this in our own time, not when people constantly pester and want to know when we’re settling down.” 

“I get it, the questions are constant sometimes,” George agreed, “I’ve never made you feel like there’s a pressure for us to have children, have I?” 

“No, no way. I know it’s a huge dream for you George.” 

“I guess part of me has always worried about how we’d ever make it work,” you confessed, glancing down to the floor. “You’re hardly ever home and I would never be able to do it by myself.” 

It was George’s turn to take a hold of your hand as he noticed the panic in your voice. “We’d make it work, whatever sacrifices I’d need to make when it comes down to it, I’d absolutely do it.” 

“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckled, “as if you could just walk away from a race and say you’re not doing it that weekend.” 

“Why not? The race would never be my priority.” 

“Racing is your life George,” you reminded him. 

His head shook as you spoke, “racing is my job, but my family is my life. You, everyone back at home, and any future additions that we might welcome into our family. You know that nothing else would ever come before all of that.” 

George had worked hard to make sure that you were the most important thing in his life, to make sure that you were looked after and make sure that you had all of the things that you needed to live as comfortably as possible. 

“I’m not saying that we should have a baby tomorrow George, there’s a lot we need to think about, but I definitely think there might be one, or maybe more, in our future,” you told him, watching his eyes light up. 

“That’s all that I’ve ever wanted to hear,” he responded, offering you a wide smile. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about how our future plans out, the only people that matter are the two of us.” 

You hummed in agreement with him, “throughout all of this, however long it takes us to one day settle down, we’re a team, always.” 

George leant forwards and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “whatever we do, we agree to do it together.” 

“Exactly, and hopefully one day we’ll be able to be mum and dad.” 

“And have baby Russell?” 

“Yes George,” you laughed, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. The excitement in his voice unlike anything that you had ever heard from George before.  

“I’m so happy we had this conversation,” he added, “you have no idea how much you’ve just eased my mind.” 

“See,” you sniggered, “all you had to do was talk to me.” 

“You’re right, as painful as it is to admit it.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[tired-teacher-blog]

Virgin Pro hero Deku who -despite being a little over thirty- is still clueless as to how he should speak or act around girls.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who is unable to maintain a steady relationship or even keep one going for over a couple of weeks because it never feels right.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who doesn't believe in casual hookups like one night stands, even with the countless admirers throwing themselves at his feet.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who's a hopeless romantic, spends most of his free time fantasizing about a perfect future with the perfect woman and building scenarios after scenarios of the happy life he dreams of having. Only, he can never assign a face to his perfect lady because he is yet to encounter her.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who wishes to one day have a kid of his own, a thought that often visits him but leaves a bitter aftertaste behind, as he is nowhere near it.

Virgin Pro hero Deku whose mind went completely blank for a millisecond before spiraling out of control the moment he saw you as he found himself inexplicably drawn to you, and his pathetic state only worsened since he didn't know how to properly approach you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who spent weeks following you from afar, has finally found the face to his once faceless perfect woman.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who is a total klutz, was unaware of your eyes following him back, nor of the shy smile appearing on your face everytime you sensed him nearby.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who could not muster up the courage to talk to you, almost passed out the day you spoke to him for the first time.

Virgin Pro hero Deku whose palms became clammy and throat became dry— the moment you stood face to face with him, only nodded to your suggestion for a cup of coffee together as he did not trust his voice around you yet.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who soon came to realize that a mere glance from you is more lethal than the deadliest of villains he encounters daily.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who was certain you are the one for him the moment you laced your fingers with his and pulled him closer for a shy kiss goodnight as you both stood on your doorstep.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who kept smiling like a fool afterwards because the feeling of your lips against his own was addictive, he wanted more but was too shy to ask, regretting his cowardice the moment you walked into your house and closed the door behind you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who rewinded that moment in his head all night long as he laid down in bed, still smiling while tracing his lips with his fingers and wishing you were there with him.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who couldn't believe his ears when the words "I love you" left your lips one evening, so casually, with a giggle following suit. He grabbed your hands and stared into your soul as he wordlessly anticipated to hear it again, and he did.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who stood nervously before you, eyes roaming your luscious curves while watching eagerly as your dress slid down your body and hit his bedroom's floor, fully exposing you to him.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who was lost at that moment between his burning desire for you, and an extreme embarrassment for the throbbing bulge he could not conceal behind his palms.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who dug deep inside his mind for any distraction that could keep him from cumming hard in his boxers as you dragged him to bed with you.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who moaned loudly against your neck while feeling the softness of your velvety walls for the first time in his life.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who refused to cum before guiding you to your own release, the hardest test he lived through as the overwhelming pleasure you both experienced was too much to resist, it was addictive and irresistible, keeping you both awake all night long as you explored ech other's bodies until you no longer could move a muscle, gasping for air and holding onto the other firmly, unfazed by the sticky mess connecting you together.

Virgin Pro hero Deku who's always been grateful you were his first, is now certain you'll be his last as he blissfully watched you walk down the aisle..

Divider by: @/cafekitsune

[turnaboutnerd]

No joke, my dream mainline AA final entry (whether that be AA7 or later) is not one that simply brings back all the beloved living characters from past entries who’ve disappeared (Gumshoe, Franziska, Kay, etc.) I want it to lean hard into the concept of spirit channeling in order to bring back all the former big bads (Dahlia, Manfred, Kristoph, Phantom, etc.) but also the lost loved ones (Gregory, Mia, Clay, Jove, Dhurke, Metis, etc.) for an all-out, true send-off to the mainline series.

It’s Ace Attorney! It can be ridiculous; the stakes get stupidly higher with each game anyway! Let’s say Maya senses there’s havoc being wrecked in the spirit world, and she channels Mia to discover that something has gone terribly awry with Judgment and now everyone who’s ever died in the series is stuck in purgatory, unable to move on into either Heaven or Hell (or whatever equivalent there is in the world of Ace Attorney).

Mia and some other spirits who dealt with justice systems in life (whom we later discover to be the likes of Gregory Edgeworth, Dhurke Sahdmadhi, and Godot) are trying to sort it out, but they simply can’t do it on their own—so Mia is reaching out to the world of the living for help. Now all the main living characters—Phoenix, Apollo, Athena, Maya, Ema, Miles, Gumshoe, Klavier, Simon, Nahyuta, Franziska, everyone—have to team up to help their loved ones find peace and ensure their enemies face justice in the Beyond.

Like, can you imagine what an amazing emotional mess this could be? Miles having to face his father after all the mistakes he made in his life, and them working together to send Manfred to literal hell (and just think about how Franny fits into this dynamic). Apollo and Phoenix needing to unlock Kristoph’s black psychelocks, digging up all the Gavin family skeletons, and requiring Klavier’s help to do it. Simon and Athena and Metis and the actual Bobby Fulbright having to unmask the Phantom for real. The list goes on.

It’s pipe dream, but I’m foaming at the mouth just thinking about it.

[rd0265667]

Nayeon x Reader: It's always you

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

A/N: Does this make complete sense? Not exactly A/N2: Also, thanks to my illusion bois for helping me proofread/helping me do this(my bad @alcoholfreenayeon, ms spout is not gonna do well in this fic)

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. She saw your eyes flutter open, stretching your arms groggily. “You. It’s always you.” You mumble with a sheepish smile, Nayeon playfully giggling before flicking you on the forehead.

“Flirt.” Nayeon said with a blush, yelping as you suddenly wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her back onto the bed with you. After a short while of tussling, Nayeon finally got up. “Alright get up, We can’t spend the whole of our anniversary in bed.” Nayeon goes to her dresser, tying her hair up into a ponytail before reaching around her drawers. “Why not, I’d think we’d enjoy that very much.” You say, earning you a shirt to the face. “I will spray you with the hose.” Nayeon chides, but still unable to hide her smile in the mirror. “Besides, I’ve made plans for our 2nd anniversary seeing as we’re both on leave.” Nayeon said as she began her makeup routine. “Oh, do tell.” You say, wrapping your arms around her midriff, throwing her into a back hug as you rested your chin on her shoulder. “No spoilers, but I guarantee you’re in for a surprise.”  Nayeon said, leaning her head toward yours. “I swear, if we’re going to that one restaurant where I accidentally ordered the most spicy instead of the least and didn’t want to return it,  I’-” You began, but you were quickly stopped by a finger to the lip. “No need for swearing, my dear, and we’re having dinner there.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out as you rolled your eyes. “Well good luck then, you’ll be eating dinner with someone wearing a penguin mask.” You retorted, causing Nayeon to scrunch her nose in confusion. “What penguin mask? Oh, you mea- I swear to god you’ve been spending too much time with Mina.” Nayeon replied, a look of mock horror as you waved the penguin mask in front of Nayeon. “If I see that mask in our car later, I’m locking you out.” Nayeon retorts, causing you to make a theatrical gesture of placing the mask on, eliciting a face palm from Nayeon. “I don’t know why I married you sometimes.” Nayeon playfully jabbed. “Because you love me.” You say, before making a cacophony of weird penguin noises. “You’re right, because you’re my weirdo.”

The day went by in a breeze, almost a whirlwind of nostalgia and fun to be had. The date began with a trip to the beach, where you had first met Nayeon, who, despite her fear of the sea, was peer pressured into going for a swim with Jihyo and Sana, and promptly ran away from the sea, where she had fallen for you, both metaphorically and physically. Your back was bruised for a week, but on the bright side, you got a bruised back and her number, so you called it a win and moved on. The day continued with a bicycle ride through a nearby park followed by a picnic, the park where the two of you had your first date. Nayeon even went all out to recreate the exact date, the same picnic mat, the same burritos you had(that she made herself. She insists it's not as good, you know for a fact that it's amazing), everything short of time travelling and bringing you back to the exact day of your first date. After that picnic lunch, the final destination before dinner was a recreation centre, where the two of you engaged in sports like pool, darts, axe throwing, all of which she had lost to you. (She insists she was being chivalrous, you’re on the fence about that) “What a day.” You say with a tired but still jovial tone. “Day’s not over bub.” Nayeon says as she starts the car. As the car coasted down the highway, the two of you belting whatever songs were being played on the radio. Just as the two of you were singing out, you felt a strong jerk forward, the car spinning rapidly as you crashed into the road barrier. The events that soon came next were hazy, your ears ringing and feeling blood trickle down your forehead. You felt arms wrap around you, dragging you out of the car. “I’ve got you baby.” Was the little you could hear as you saw Nayeon above you, in much worse shape than you were, but she persevered as she dragged you out of the car wreckage, an unholy meld of your black sedan and the other’s blue van, collapsing just as she pulled you out to safety. The next hours were a whirlwind of chaos, as the ambulance arrived, whisking both you and Nayeon to the hospital. After some scans and treatments, the doctor diagnosed that your injuries were rather minimal, and that you would just need to stay for a short while for monitoring. “That’s good to hear Doc. How’s Nayeon? The lady I came in with.” You asked. “Oh, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it’s not looking good. Her side of the car hit the barrier so she bore the brunt of the impact. She has pretty severe internal injuries, and the doctors are planning a surgery now. “Where is she?” You quickly asked, trying to get up from your bed, but your body still weak from the crash, you barely got one foot on the ground before you almost collapsed. “You can’t leave yet, your body is still weak.” “Doc, I need to see her, please.” You plead, as the doctor hesitated for a moment, before agreeing, bringing you a wheelchair. As you were wheeled to Nayeon’s ward, you began to hear rapid beeping from Nayeon’s ward. That couldn’t be good. A whole horde of doctors and nurses quickly swarmed into the room, though you were forced to stay out of the room. It was all going to be okay, you kept repeating to yourself, but as time passed, you felt hope slipping away, especially as you peered into the ward, seeing Nayeon’s lifeless body being shocked, an attempt to kickstart her heart.

“Time of Death, 2208.” You heard the doctor say, and you felt your world crash around you.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even think. As you sat in the wheelchair, your mind flashed back to the last time you had seen her. When she had pulled you out of the wreckage. The doctor said she had suffered much worse injuries than you did. But…she still saved you, she still pushed herself to the limit, exerted herself to make sure you weren’t in danger. Could that exertion have killed her? “Are you related to the patient?” The doctor asked as she walked out of Nayeon’s ward

“She is…was my wife.” Was all you could say before being overwhelmed by a tidal wave of emotions. “Oh, I’m really sorry for your loss. She fought hard, but during the crash, she suffered numerous internal injuries. She suffered an injury to the chest during the injury that caused damage to her heart. We were able to stabilise her for a short while, but eventually her heart gave up. I’m really sorry for your loss.” The doctor said, bowing slightly before walking away. “You can see her if you want?” The doctor who wheeled you here asked. “It was my fault.” You could only whisper. If it was Nayeon’s heart that gave out, then her saving you was most likely what killed her. Looking out of the window with tears in your eyes, you noticed a shooting star. Or was it falling. Like Nayeon, a fallen angel, a fallen star, the love of your life. Oh, what you would give up to save her. At that moment, the star froze in the sky. Everything froze, the beeping in the monitors stopped, the chatter of the nurses stopped. You looked around in confusion, what in the world was happening? Through the frozen bodies, a child walked through the crowd of bodies, a small packet of chips in hand. “Hey kid, do you know what’s going on?” You ask, realising that the only ones not frozen were you and the kid. “Watch who you’re calling kid, I’m like a thousand years old!” The kid snorted. “What?” You asked in confusion. This all felt like a fever dream. What was this kid talking about? “Duh, you wished upon a shooting star, all that nonsense, now here I am. You get one wish. Make it quick, these things have validation periods and they’re a bitch if you stall.” You look at the child in confusion, but the possibilities swarm your mind. Could you bring back Nayeon from the dead? “I can’t bring her back. Not in any way that you’d want anyways.” The child says, seemingly having read your mind. “Can I go back in time to save her then? Let me wake up this morning again, and let me sleep to go back again.” You ask the child, and the child looks at you with a little concern. “Are you sure you want to make this wish. Go back to this morning, and loop yourself. I’m not permitted to give you ideas for other wishes, but I hope you think through this clearly.” “I’m sure.” You say resolutely. Anything for Nayeon. “Alright, if you insist. What was the first thing you did or said today?” The child asked, a piece of paper appearing in his hand.

“I said to Nayeon, “You, it’s always you.”” You tell the child, looking at him in confusion. “Alright, listen to me carefully. Once the loop begins, you will be looped to this morning, but you won’t have control over anything until your first action. Thankfully, it was this morning so you have the whole day to do what you need. Before time can continue and you continue on your looped day, you need to say the first thing you said. Only then will the day continue. But until you do, you’ll be trapped in that moment.” The kid explains to which you nod

“Wait, how-” You were about to ask, but with a snap of a finger, you woke up in bed once again

And the Cycle begins

Day 2

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. You wanted to throw Nayeon into a hug, but you found yourself locked in place. After a short struggle, you remembered what the kid had said. “You. It’s always you.” You say to Nayeon,  who playfully giggles before flicking you on the forehead. Worried, you quickly pull her into a hug. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” You mutter under your breath. Hearing this, Nayeon’s playful demeanour disappeared in a second, quickly sitting on the bed next to you, holding both your hands in hers. “Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?” Nayeon asked, before putting her hand to your cheek, gently caressing it in an attempt to calm you down. “Yeh, a nightmare. Something like that.” You muttered under your breath. “Well, whatever that nightmare was, you don’t need to worry, I’m here, I’ll always be here alright?” Nayeon whispered, her hand patting your back. She was right. You were going to make this alright. Taking a deep breath, you pull Nayeon toward you, leaving a long kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, my love.” You say, collecting your thoughts. You had to act normal. You did not know what little errant act of yours would alter the day in unforeseen ways, and you weren’t sure if that alteration would be better or worse. Besides, once you saved Nayeon, you didn’t want this day to be one where she had all her plans for your second anniversary ruined. You’d just save her before the car crash. “Everything okay now?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “Of course, let’s go get dressed, we have a long day ahead. I assume you have plans for the day?” You asked, causing Nayeon to smile in excitement, almost jumping for joy on the bed. “Definitely, We can’t spend the whole of our anniversary in bed.” Nayeon goes to her dresser, tying her hair up into a ponytail before reaching around her drawers. “Why not, I’d think we’d enjoy that very much.” You say, earning you a shirt to the face. Good, everything was going as it was. The day proceeded as expected, the beach, the park, the recreation centre, everything. Then, came the moment where everything had gone wrong. “Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to giggle. “I know it’s THAT restaurant.” You say, causing Nayeon to pout. “Aish, did Jihyo tell you?” She asked, to which you shrugged. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car. As you drove down the highway, you and Nayeon sang the songs that came up on the Radio. But as you were driving, an all too familiar song popped up. The song you were waiting for. As soon as you heard that song, you began to nervously glance in the mirrors, trying to spot the van. Soon enough, it pulled up upon the horizon. The van was speeding, and fast. Keeping an eye on it, just as you saw the van reach you, you quickly swerved out of the way. “What was that?” Nayeon asked, hand grasping the handle at the ceiling of the car. “I did it.” You exhaled to yourself. “Babe look out!” You heard Nayeon shout, seeing a motorcycle on the wrong side of the road, speeding towards you. The crash was not as major as the previous one. But it was more than enough to cause damage. After the collision, the motorcyclist and his bike flipped, crashing into the car, the impact of which knocking you out, the last thing you heard being the distressed screams of Nayeon. Waking up in the hospital, you sat up with a splitting headache, an IV drip stuck into your hand. “What happened?” You lightly groaned as you asked the doctor next to you, before noticing Nayeon in the bed next to you, swarmed with doctors

“What's happening?” You try to ask, but your injuries stripped you of any energy to even speak out. “Hands off. Clear.” You heard, and realisation dawned upon you. No. This couldn’t be happening again. “Time of Death, 2208.” You heard the doctor say, and you felt your world crash around you, all over again “How could this happen?” You mutter to yourself. You couldn’t let this happen again.

Day 3 "Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. You knew what had to be done this time. “You, it’s always you.” You say, leaning onto Nayeon with a sigh. “Are you alright?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “I just need a hug for a moment.” You whisper, Nayeon nodding as she holds you closer.

Okay, you anticipated not succeeding right away, you just had to try again

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“Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to give her a small smile. “Jihyo told me.” You stuck your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car. As you drove, Nayeon began to sing the song on the radio, but instead of turning down the highway, you continued along a different route. “We’re talking about the same restaurant right? Shouldn’t we go by the highway? If we go this way, we’re only going one big round, no?” Nayeon asked, looking at you in confusion. “Just wanted to take the scenic route.” You reply, fingers tensing around the steering wheel. “Are you okay, baby? We can go to another restaurant if you’re uncomfortable. I just thought we could have a laugh there, but if you don’t like it…” Nayeon trailed off, seemingly associating your bad mood with her choice of dinner location. “No baby, its not that, I promise.” You reply, eyes still darting about “Pinky promise?” Nayeon said in that voice, the voice you knew, and she knew, you couldn’t resist. “Of course baby.” You say with a smile, left hand extending your pinky out, Nayeon smiling as her pinky hooked yours. Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest all through the drive there.Whenever a car so much as crossed your periphery, your mind immediately thought, how is this car going to mess with me. But through the ride, nothing happened. It was safe. Words could not describe your relief as you finally parked at the restaurant. “Baby, is everything alright? You’ve been acting weird ever since we began driving here.” Nayeon asked you while in line at the registration counter. “Just was a little paranoid. Heard about a few too many car accidents recently, so I was a little on edge.” You replied, Nayeon shooting you a weird look. There hadn’t been any news about that recently. As you were about to get to your turn at the registration counter, you saw a woman in a hoodie walking out of the restaurant, suddenly bumping into you. Without a word, she hastened her stride, and runs off. “What the hell was that?” Nayeon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know, something wrong with that one probably. Ignore her, lets enjoy dinner.” You say, Nayeon smiling, nodding as she gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking into the restaurant with you. Once you were at your seats, you began to read through the menu. While you were reading the menu, however, you extended your leg, accidentally kicking a bag. That was odd. Looking down, you noticed a small bag on the ground. “Hi, Sir?” You raised your hand, beckoning a waiter over to you. “Hi, are you ready to order?” The waiter asked, taking out a small notepad. “Not yet, there’s a bag here, I think a previous client left it here.” “I’ll look into it.” The server picked the bag up, slowly walking over to the main counter. Looking at the bag, Nayeon’s eyebrows furrowed. She had noticed some wires protruding from the bag, and she heard a faint ticking sound… Nayeon’s eyes widened in realisation, especially hearing the ticking sound grow faster. “Get down!” Nayeon shouted, lunging at you, using her hand to keep your body low, draping her body over yours. Before your could even be confused, you heard a loud boom, the force pushing you to the ground. As the dust settled, chairs and tables in a frenzied disarray, you felt yourself get pulled onto a stretcher, your mind still a mess. Through all the mess, you were set down next to an ambulance, paramedics swarming the area, tending to the wounded. Seeing as you didn’t suffer any serious injuries, you were left there, pretty low on the priority list. Looking around, you tried to find her, but all of a sudden, through all the noise, as if a mocking tune meant to twist the knife in your heart “Im Nayeon, Time of Death, 2208.”

Day 4

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. Your mind was still a mess. It seemed like the universe was conspiring to kill the love of your life. Well, not if you had anything to say about it. Because you’d try over, and over, and over again, until Nayeon was finally safe “You, it’s always you.” You whisper

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Day ???

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. “You, it’s always you.” You say, a tone that all but said you were defeated. “I’ve gotta go.” You say, quickly getting up from the bed, going to get dressed. “Don’t you remember what today is?” Nayeon asked, parts shocked, parts angry. Looking at her, your eyelids drooped, and you looked absolutely defeated. “This is a throwaway day anyways. I’ll see you at the hospital.” You sigh, walking out of your apartment.

Walking to the bar, you went towards an unmarked room, pounding your fist against the door. “Open up dipshit, it’s me, Y/N. Don’t say you’re busy, don’t say come back later, I’m not in the mood.” You shout out. Opening the door, the aforementioned dipshit stuck his head out of the door. “Have I become that predictable? And of course, come on in.” He said, a hand gesturing into the room. “Also, do me a favour, tell your secretary that you’ll be receiving a call in roughly 37 minutes, just tell him to come back another time.” You say, crashing onto the couch. Looking at you in confusion, he finally nodded, texting his secretary, then sitting opposite to you. “Groundhog day, Nayeon, I’m going insane.” You say, the three pieces of information being enough for the other man. “That explains a lot. What’s the sitch?” He asked, pulling a whiteboard from the side of his office out. “I’ve tried everything. No matter what I do, Nayeon ends up dying in the hospital, Time of death, 2208.” You say with a sigh, hanging your head low.

“Oookay, you my friend, need a drink.” He said, sliding you a shot of gin. “No, I need to have my head on straight for this one. I need to brainstorm a way to save Nayeon.” You decline. “Alright, tell me the details, we’ll try to plan something.”  He said, patting you on the back. “I know what Nayeon means to you. We’ll figure this out alright?” He said, to which you nodded, though masking a considerable amount of doubt. The same amount you’ve had the last 20 times you were here. “Hang on.” You raise a hand, halting him in his step as you pulled out a piece of paper. Scribbling around 30 or so lines down, you handed the paper to him. “What’s this?” He asked, scanning through the paper “Your last 30 ideas.” You deadpanned, letting out a sigh. A look of realisation dawned upon him. “Oh, we have a mountain to climb then.”

“Alright, so what happens if you go home after the recreation centre then?” “We get robbed, the robber's a trigger happy little shit. Tried it out like 20 different ways, no matter what I arm myself with, even calling the cops, the robber can’t miss. In another life, she’d probably be a sniper.” You sighed. “If you drive around?” “Car crash, blue van, black SUV, a goddamn 5 tonner. You name it, it crashed into me. When I don’t crash, I’m not kidding when I say this, we get crushed by a landslide.” 

“Okay okay, scrap that, what’s the furthest you’ve gotten in your day without getting into an accident.” He asked, fingers massaging his forehead. “The loop is similar to the second one. I ran out of ideas, so I went back with that plan. I took the wheel, and we drove to the restaurant that we originally booked, but I took a roundabout way. We got there without an accident, but once we got there, surprise surprise, there was a bomb there. There was this one lady who bumped into me, dressed shady as hell, she’s the one who planted the bomb. I tried to take her down once, but that just resulted in the bomb blowing up earlier and killing Nayeon all the same. For this one, I called the cops prior, and they had cleared the place, successfully apprehended the criminal, then disposed of the bomb.  Then, surprise surprise, the damn restaurant caught on fire. That’s the furthest I ever made it. This is the closest to 2208 I can make it without Nayeon injured or in the hospital, but that fire was too big, I couldn’t get Nayeon out of it fast enough without the fumes getting to her or us getting trapped under debris. There were other similar situations like this at the restaurant, but there’s usually some minor differences. Once, the bomber’s friends came back to shoot the place up, the other time, some stupid ass kid ran into Nayeon and she fell, hitting her head.” “Okay, Okay, so we work off of that. Tomorrow, before you start your little date adventure, call me. Tell me code black, and tell me what to do. I’ll get some of the boys to prepare. We know this route can go wrong in a few ways. So, first, call the cops, secure the bomber. That much is obvious. Continue the date as is. We can’t really prevent the fire, given we don’t work there, but I’ll get Samuel there with a fire extinguisher. He’ll hand it off to you before you go in, along with some gas masks. Wouldn’t want the fumes to mess you up. For the shooters, I’ll have some of my boys guard outside, they see any rolling, they’ll call the cops. And for the dumbass kid. Well, just trip him if you see him.” He shrugged, causing you to nod. You knew there was no way to cover all your bases. The universe would try to throw anything it could at you, but this would work. “Alright, thanks bro.” You say, pulling him into a hug “No problem. I know I won’t remember this, but you should go visit mom soon, she’s been pretty bored recently.” He said, tightly embracing you. Once out of the hug, he put his hand on your shoulder. “This is gonna work, kid. Have faith alright? But, y’know, stay on your toes too.” He said with a small smile. “I really hope so, because I really don’t know how many more of these loops I can take before going insane.” You say, letting out a hoarse chuckle. “And, 3,2,1.” You say, looking at your watch. Right on cue, your phone began to ring. With a sigh, you picked up the phone. “Yes Natasha? Don’t worry how I know your name, yes, I’m Mrs Nayeon’s partner, I’ll be there in a short while.” You say, then hanging up the phone. “After this loop ends, Drinks on me.” He patted you on the back. “I look forward to it.”

Day ???+1

"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary. You're finally awake, what were you dreaming about? You were mumbling, and smiling a lot" Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

“You, it’s always you.” You say, leaning onto Nayeon with a sigh. “Are you alright?” Nayeon asked worriedly. “I just need a hug for a moment.” You whisper, Nayeon nodding as she holds you closer.

As you leaned on Nayeon’s shoulder, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Today was the day. You were going to save Nayeon today. “Hey babe, you can go get dressed first, I gotta call Darius” You said, Nayeon nodding. “Alright babe, say Hi to him for me.” Nayeon said with a hum, walking to her dresser. “Code Black, I’ll send you the details.” “Roger that.”

After typing out what you had discussed with Darius, you sent it to him, getting a thumbs up from him. “Hey babe, how do I look?” Nayeon asked, drawing your attention. She stood there, twirling around with that cute smile on her face. “Perfect, as always.”

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“Nay, I gotta go take a call, can you wait for me by the car?” You ask, Nayeon nodding Once Nayeon was out of earshot, you took your phone out, dialling the police.

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“Hey Babe, I’ll drive. Just key in the location.” You say as the two of you left the recreation centre. “So you can uncover my final surprise? Nuh uh.” Nayeon said, sticking her tongue out, causing you to give her a small smile. “Jihyo told me.” You stuck your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” Nayeon said, tossing you the keys as you got in the car.

As you drove, Nayeon began to sing the song on the radio, though pausing as she noticed you turning to the longer route. “We’re talking about the same restaurant right? Shouldn’t we go by the highway? If we go this way, we’re only going one big round, no?” Nayeon asked, looking at you in confusion. “Just taking the more Scenic route babe, don’t worry about it.” You say with a small smile.

As expected, much to your delight, the ride there was a smooth one, though your mental preparations for the upcoming dinner from hell caused you to tense up quite a little. Reaching the restaurant, Nayeon’s eyebrow furrowed. “Hmm, why are there so many police cars?” Nayeon looked around curiously. “Maybe there was some disputes here. They’re leaving now, so we should be fine.” You reassure Nayeon, who nods. Walking out to the counter, you see Samuel, a friend of Darius’, someone you had seen in passing but never really interacted with. “The package has been set under your table. Here are the masks, godspeed my friend.” Samuel says, handing you the small pouch. You quickly take it, grabbing them and shoving them into your pocket. “Thank you so much for this.” You thank Samuel, who returned a small smile. “Anytime.”

“Who was that just now? At the counter?” Nayeon asked as she browsed through the menu “Oh, just a friend of Darius’. We were just exchanging pleasantries.” You reply, Nayeon seemingly satisfied with this answer. Looking around the restaurant, you seeked to remove the first and most minute possibility of messing up. “Hey kid.” You beckon the boy over to you. “Here’s 10$, do me a favour, stay seated at your table alright?” You whisper, the boy nodding, taking the money before running back to his seat. “You’re acting weird today.” Nayeon said in a joking tone, but you knew there was some serious concern behind that. “Don’t worry about it babe, let’s order.” You reassure her. As the dinner went on surprisingly incident free, for now at least, you got a message from Darius. “All clear so far. Besides, I heard on the news that the cops had made a big arrest on some of the members associated with the bombers, so you’re only left with the fire. Good luck.” As if a goddamn hex had been placed, almost instantaneously, you heard shouts from the kitchen, followed by some sparks. “Babe, I need you to listen to me very carefully, I need you to do exactly as I say for the next 5 minutes alright? Put this mask on.” You say to her, quickly taking the masks from your pocket. Nayeon looked in fear at the flames that were rapidly spreading, looking to you and nodding. “Stay behind me, and when I say run for the exit, run.” You say, taking the bag off the fire extinguisher. “How did y-” “Question for another time, let’s go!” You say, standing up as you pulled the pin on the fire extinguisher, spraying the gas at the sources of fire around you. As you were putting out the flames around you, your main priority was to put out the flames leading to the door, aiming to make a safe passage for Nayeon and other people in the restaurant. “Go!” You shout out, Nayeon making a dash for the exit, you follow close as you continue extinguishing the fire around you. When you were just about to reach the exit, you heard a loud creak, seeing the banner above Nayeon about to fall. “No!” You scream out, lunging at her, draping your body over hers. The large banner crashed upon your back, knocking you unconscious, your last thought before you blacked out, a jumbled slurry of fear and pain.

“Can you hear me?” You heard a doctor ask as you were slowly regaining consciousness. “Yeh doc, I can hear you.” You groggily reply, before your mind immediately sharpened. “Where’s Nayeon? My wife.” You ask, before hearing a cough to your side. “Look around sometimes, baby.” Nayeon said weakly, though with a smile on her face. “No, No.” You mutter, the memories of your first loop rushing in to your mind. “Nay, are you alright? Are you feeling off in any way?” You quickly ask. “Other than a mild concussion and some scrapes, I’m fine, thanks to you. My hero.” Nayeon said, a smile on her face. You looked around in confusion, till you finally saw it. 2210. You had made it. “Yes!” You exclaim in excitement, before your wounds promptly put you back on the bed. “Calm down my friend. So, about your injury. We’ve done some scans, nothing serious, but we’d still like to keep you for observation for one day. And, it was very heroic what you did there, not just saving your wife, but you and the fire extinguisher. I heard from the other patrons who I attended to earlier, if not for you, most of them would have died in there, but thanks to you, the worst injury someone suffered was a mild burn. So, great job, and rest up.” The doctor smiled, gently patting you on the back before leaving the ward. “So, my hero, mind telling me how you had those masks ready for us? And that fire extinguisher too?” Nayeon asked, curious. “Story for another day my love, for now, let’s just rest, alright? And, happy 2nd.” You say, causing Nayeon to chuckle. “What an eventful 2nd anniversary it’s been.” She says, to which you smirk. “You have no idea. Good night babe.” You say, before shutting your eyes, a smile as you could already feel the beautiful horizon of the next day to come, it’s rays shining upon you

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. As your eyes slowly opened, you shook your head a little, as if coming out of a headache"Hey Babe, Happy 2nd Anniversary." Nayeon whispers after leaving a kiss on your forehead, the rest unintelligible due to your still addled mind “Babe, what are you talking about, it’s not our anniversary anymore?” You tried to say, still not fully comprehending what she had said. But as you said it, you found that you couldn’t move. And you weren’t in the hospital, you were at home, time frozen as the exact scenario you’ve woken up to hundreds upon hundreds of times played out the exact same way as before. No, it can’t be. You won. You, against all odds, had finally found a way to save Nayeon. You did it. Right? As you were stuck there, frozen, a horrible realisation dawned upon you.

“You. It’s always you.”