#and I was out of breath when I arrived at the gate seconds too late

[lulunothulu]

Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙

Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗

“Don’t worry”

Tyler Owens x Reader

“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.

He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.

When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.

“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.

He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.

‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.

Tyler’s heart stops.

Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.

He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.

He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.

When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.

“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.

He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”

He checks your pulse.

Good, steady but kind of weak.

Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.

Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.

The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.

“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.

He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.

“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.

“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.

———

At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.

How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?

He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.

Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.

“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.

“When?” He’d asked.

“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”

The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.

Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.

“Tyler?”

“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”

“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.

“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.

“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.

“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”

Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”

“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”

“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”

“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”

“10:30 PM,” he tells you.

“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.

Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”

He turns around. “Yes baby?”

“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.

[lovelyisadora]

love love love when wheelchair assistance at the airport is so fucked it makes you miss your flight, and the gate agent tells you to go fuck yourself as she looks you right in the eye and closes the flight in front of you 🙃

[egcdeath]

off the beaten path

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: what could go wrong with a non-refundable honeymoon and a broken engagement?

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no sex scenes), exes to lovers, idiots to lovers angst, fluff, there was only one bed MULTIPLE times, jealousy!! (like a lot), slow burn, no use of y/n, so much use of the word fuck, a little toxicity, some facts about landmarks are inaccurate for the plot, lots of arguing and making up, miscommunication, seasickness, patrick & reader kinda have no social awareness, a lot of hotels and buses, alcohol, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

word count: 18.4k

author’s note: this was so much longer than i expected it to be, but i loved writing it so so much and i'm gonna be sad to see this pairing go! also, a special thank you to the tour website whose itinerary i used for their trip. i hope you enjoy!

JFK AIRPORT

You scrolled endlessly on your phone as you sat at your gate, trying your hardest to fight off the combination of sleepiness and anxiety that had been slowly creeping up on you for the past hour.  

You should be happy—excited to spend the next month of your life traveling throughout Europe on the trip that you had dreamt about since you were a child. Instead, you were filled with dread at the prospect of your quickly approaching trip, leaving your leg bouncing and your eyes flitting between the device in your hands and the entrance of the gate, anxiously anticipating the arrival of a man that you really really did not want to see. 

Once it was announced that first class was boarding, you quickly hopped out of your uncomfortable seat, hoping that if you boarded quick enough, you might be able to miss your unwanted companion. As you stood in line, you tried your best to be casual about your endlessly swiveling head and wondered if it was too late to simply call the whole thing off. 

Boarding had gone smoothly enough, and as you settled into your seat, you still hadn’t seen any sign of your former fiancé. For a second, a spark of hope lit up in you. Maybe you’d get to experience Europe without that pest in your ear after all. Maybe you could even arrange a friend to come fly out and be with you for a few days, or find someone to have a romantic summer fling with. 

But just as soon as your hope arrived, it departed with the sound of a familiar voice walking down the aisle and directly towards you.

“They wouldn’t let me switch my seat.”

You couldn’t believe that those were the choice of words the man you’d intended to spend the rest of your life with had decided to start with. After months of radio silence. No apologies, no awkward small talk, no sugar-coated words about your situation, just a complaint about the conditions the two of you would be in for the next eight hours. Classic Patrick. 

“That’s too bad,” you replied, already annoyed by his presence. You had underestimated how much of a challenge this trip was going to be, solely based on the speed at which your negative feelings had come to the surface. 

“Yeah, no shit,” he muttered under his own breath, putting some luggage into the overhead bin above your seats. 

“You’re the one who insisted we still go,” you argued, not wanting him to get the last word—even if his last words were meant to be a snarky comment to himself more than anything else. 

“The hotels, tours, and all the other tickets were non-refundable!” he argued right back to you. 

“So?” you shot back like a petulant child. 

“So I didn’t want to waste your money.”

“Oh, how considerate,” you scoffed sarcastically before beginning once more. “You’re rich! You don’t even have to be here!” 

“Just because my family is comfortable doesn’t mean I want to waste my money.”

You openly rolled your eyes at his words. Comfortable was the understatement of the century. “So you didn’t actually want to waste my money. You didn’t want to waste your own.”

“Why can’t it be both?” he asked, sounding exasperated by your line of thinking. You hated when he did that. You kind of hated most things he did now. Maybe you just hated him. 

“I never said it can’t be both, I just think you should stop trying to act like you’re so charitable for doing me a favor. As if our relationship wasn’t filled with me doing you favors.”

“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now?” he asked. 

“Sorry, you’re right. We have the next thirty-five days to talk about it.”

The two of you sighed in a synchronized breath at the mention of the amount of time you had to spend together. You hated that the two of you were still in rhythm after everything you’d been through. Or maybe you just hated Patrick. 

“Who plans a thirty-five day honeymoon anyway?” he huffed. 

“Us, apparently. I mean, you were all for it, what? A few months ago?”

“Only because you wanted it.

“Oh, how could I forget. The ever-charitable Patrick Zweig. Taking a month-long break from hitting balls to be with me. I’m forever in your debt,” you mocked with a dramatic hand to your forehead. “At this rate, you’re gonna send me a list of all of the nice things you’ve ever done for me. What do you want me to say? Thank you for doing the bare minimum as a boyfriend?”

“Fiancé,” he corrected you, earning a very nasty side eye from you in the process of doing so. 

You were beginning to get dirty looks from your fellow first class passengers, which temporarily shut the both of you up. It was never a good idea to piss off people on a plane. You didn’t want to end up on the no-fly list just because you couldn’t bite your tongue around your ex. 

“Remember when you said we could still be friends after this?” Patrick spoke once more after your moment of silence. 

“Of course I remember, but you stopped that from happening when you…” your voice trailed off as you made eye contact with a very displeased looking middle aged woman “Whatever. Let’s just… try to get through this flight. And try not to make any more of a scene.”

“Fine,” he replied, shrugging in your peripheral vision. 

“Fine,” you said back, not wanting him to have the last word.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you think you win every argument just because you said the last thing.”

“I’m not doing that,” you lied. “You think you know me so well.”

A familiar agitated smile broke out on his face, something that you unfortunately missed seeing. “I do know you well, though. I see right through you.”

“You actually don’t, though.”

“I do,” he insisted, the smirk creeping onto his face telling you that he knew you were actively proving his point. 

“Not really,” you dismissed and attempted to casually pull the headphones that were currently sitting on your neck up to cover your ears. You were always grateful to have noise-canceling headphones when you were traveling, but they were coming particularly in handy for you to win this argument. You tried to hide your self-satisfied smirk as you pressed play on your phone, but you could instantly tell that you were failing. 

When you looked back up, Patrick was clearly saying words to you that you weren’t able to hear. Knowing him, he was probably saying something along the lines of, “Real mature.” 

The truth was that he wanted the last word more than you did–which made it particularly rewarding when you gestured to your headphones before throwing your hands out in a shrug to indicate to him that you couldn’t hear him.

Your vacation was already off to a chaotic start. You couldn’t help but fear what the next thirty-five days would be like. 

BARCELONA, SPAIN

Despite the flight only being eight hours long, you were absolutely exhausted by the time that you checked into your hotel room. So exhausted that you failed to remember to request to switch rooms to one with two beds rather than one.

This predicament only came to the forefront of your mind once you and Patrick had already swiped into the room, suitcases lying on the floor and one king-sized mattress presented in front of you. 

“Should I go back down to the front desk?” he asked as he looked from you to the bed. 

“I’m too tired to get a new room,” you replied. You could handle one night next to your ex. You’d slept in a bed together for years. Granted, during those years you were also sleeping together, but this wasn’t all that different. 

“Fine. Don’t complain if I hog blankets, then.”

“Fine,” you replied. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”

You shucked your backpack from your shoulders and walked over to what was typically the side of the bed where you slept when the two of you had been a couple. Not wasting any time to get ready for bed, you began to take off your clothes and search for your pajamas. Once you glanced over your shoulder, you were quite displeased to find Patrick rather openly ogling at you. 

“Stop looking at me,” you demanded.

“What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He said with a smirk. 

“You’re such a creep,” you muttered, throwing on an old shirt and crawling into bed. 

As you laid in bed and texted your friends and family that you’d arrived at your hotel safely, you took a peek of your own at your former partner as he got ready for bed. He seemed to be going with his classic bedtime attire of just boxers. Bold move. 

Your eyes were momentarily stuck on his abs and enticing happy trail. You’d planned your trip during Patrick’s off season while he was training for his upcoming season, so you were pleasantly unsurprised that he was in such good shape. Your breath caught for a second as you thought about the rest of him, and you desperately tried to repress the low, fiery feeling rising in your stomach. 

“And I’m the creep?” he asked with a laugh, pulling you away from your objectification as he got into bed next to you. 

“Yeah,” you replied, as if you hadn’t just given him the same treatment he’d given you. 

“Well… like what you see?”

You scoffed at his audacity, though you did like what you saw. “I’m not fucking you. Goodnight.”

You hit the light on your nightstand and you swore you heard a quiet sound of disappointment come from Patrick. Bastard.

You turned your back to him and closed your eyes, finding that sleep took you under surprisingly easily.

When you woke up in the morning, you were greeted by a far too familiar feeling. Despite your request for Patrick to stay on his side of the bed, the slow, steady breaths being breathed into your ear and the solid wall of body behind you indicated that he had not only traveled into your space over the course of the night, but was actively spooning you. 

You were shocked to find that you didn’t necessarily mind it. Yes, you were mad at Patrick for everything that had gone down between you, and because he was such a pain in the ass, but you also hadn’t realized just how much you missed being held. Particularly, how much you missed being held by him. 

The more alert you became, the more you realized that you couldn’t really move. Despite that, you found that you didn’t really want to move. Sure, you were beginning to get uncomfortably hot, and yes, you could feel Patrick’s morning wood pressing against your ass, but none of it was particularly unpleasant. 

Part of you wondered if your trip would go differently than you expected. Regardless of how you acted towards one another, you clearly both missed each other. 

Your shrill phone alarm suddenly went off, startling Patrick awake behind you. 

“Mmm, fuck, sorry,” he sleepily slurred as he rolled away from you. You turned over to look at his tired face, eyes still lidded and speckled face looking far softer than you remembered. 

Out of the blue, he opened his eyes, catching you in the act of looking at him with barely-concealed affection. Before he could make some sort of snarky comment, he shot out of bed, adjusted his boxers, and made an urgent beeline towards the bathroom. All of which would’ve been far funnier if his actions hadn’t been disrupted by the loud message ping of his cellphone. 

You weighed out your options. You were curious about what was waiting for him on his phone, but you weren’t sure that you’d have time to properly snoop. As if the universe was listening to your thoughts, the sound of the shower began, telling you that you had all the time that you needed to do some adequate investigation. 

You wondered who was texting Patrick so early in the morning. Knowing him, it was probably his mother, checking in to make sure he made it to his destination safely. You were sure that whatever message she left would also be inquiring about you. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for you, especially compared to some of the other people that Patrick had brought home. That, of course, was an observation shared to you from Patrick, so you couldn’t be sure how much of it was flattery compared to truth. 

Regardless, her fondness for you had carried into the end of your relationship, with her occasionally messaging or calling you to make sure that you were still doing well, and more importantly, to check in on the status of your relationship. 

Much like you and your friends, she’d been holding out hope that your relationship may repair itself. With you and Patrick being as passionate as the two of you were, you were no strangers to seemingly serious arguments that resolved themselves in a matter of days. While calling off a wedding was far more drastic than any of your other disputes had been, after being together for years, it was hard to imagine a world where the two of you weren’t a couple. 

But his call never came. You didn’t hear an apology or explanation or even an excuse from Patrick—just a suggestion of when you should pick up the items you’d left at his place.

You hated to admit it, but there was a naïve part of you that was still holding out hope that this trip would be exactly what you needed to reconcile. And maybe that naïeve part of you was less delusional than you might’ve originally thought. Surely cuddling into the morning and Patrick’s poorly hidden morning wood were signs that this vacation was already going in the right direction. Maybe being in such close proximity was exactly the push you needed to get your relationship back on track. 

After a halfhearted internal debate, you grabbed his phone from the night stand on his side of the bed. Attempting the passcode he’d been using while you were together—the digits of your birthday—you were pleased to find that the password hadn’t changed and that you were granted access into his phone. What you weren’t expecting to see was Tinder on the homepage of his cracked device. 

You paused for a moment and attempted to reason with yourself. Your former fiancé probably didn’t even use the app. He’d likely been pressured by his rebound-obsessed friends to download it, and hadn’t even opened the app since setting up his profile. Besides, you didn’t get on his phone to see what new apps he’d downloaded, you were snooping to see what his mom had to say about you. 

When you opened his messages app, your mouth promptly fell open in shock. Patrick had always been loyal to you—at least to your knowledge—while the two of you were together. Seeing him be so openly flirtatious and suggestive with an attractive woman that you hadn’t ever heard of was more than jarring. 

Your stomach churned as you scrolled through the conversation, flirty messages and images from both sides that left little to the imagination disturbing you in a way that you hadn’t ever realized was possible. 

In the midst of your distraught state, you nearly missed the background noise of the shower coming to a halt, informing you that your time snooping had come to an end. 

You set his phone back down where you’d found it and desperately tried to push down the bile in your throat that was tasting more and more like jealousy and anger by the second. 

You knew it was irrational for you to be feeling this way, considering that the two of you had been broken up for a few months. Nothing legally or morally tied the two of you together anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any less unsettled by what you’d just seen. 

It was just that… you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fully move on from Patrick. He’d been part of your life for so long, and the way things ended had been so abrupt that it almost didn’t feel real. Even if you did move on, it was going to take you more than three months to do so. It wasn’t fair that Patrick’s name seemed to pop up every week in your therapy sessions, while he was sending pictures of himself in gray sweatpants to random hot women. 

You wanted to shrink into the mattress and never come back up. You wanted to yell at Patrick the moment he stepped out of the bathroom. You wanted to turn on your side and wail dramatically, at least until all of your big feelings felt a little smaller. 

But you were in Europe on vacation. You were on vacation, damnit, and you weren’t going to let one mildly disturbing text thread ruin your entire experience. Better yet, if Patrick was already moving on, there was no reason that you shouldn’t do the same.

You told yourself this as you rolled out of bed and dug in your suitcase, pulling out a sundress that had driven Patrick wild in the past. While you may have packed it with less than realistic expectations, your goal was far more grounded now. 

Both of you could play this game. 

You stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed after a shower of your own and instantly registered the almost cartoonish look he was giving you. You guessed that some things never changed, even when the two of you had decided to actively pursue other people. 

“The tour guide said to meet in the lobby soon, so I’m gonna head down,” you explained, not giving him a second look as you began to search for your purse. 

“The tour doesn’t start for another half hour?” he replied, sitting up from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Well I wanna socialize with the people we’re gonna be traveling through Europe with,” you said a little snappily, still a little perturbed about what you’d found on his phone earlier. You conveniently left out the fact that you wanted to scope out any potential summer flings. 

“I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

“You really don’t have to. Remember, this isn’t actually a honeymoon,” you slipped on some comfortable shoes and headed to the door. “I’ll see you around.”

You were probably being far more rude than you really needed to be, but your anger had only intensified as you showered and put on makeup. At this point, you were fully pissed—even if you didn’t have the right to be. 

You made small talk with the people you met in the lobby as they began to filter into the room, and tried your absolute best to dispel the anger that was flowing through your veins. That proved harder than you anticipated, as Patrick was one of the last people to join you all in the lobby, and for the life of you, you couldn’t stop imagining him sitting in your shared hotel room and sexting his mystery girl. 

Luckily, you couldn’t dwell on that ugly thought for too long, as your tour began soon after. Your friendly guide took your group around the city, explaining rather riveting information about the landmarks you visited and the city itself.

After being dismissed for a quick break, you found yourself sitting on a bench and chatting with a man in your group. He wasn’t really your type, but he was extremely conventionally attractive, and from the peripheral glances you caught of Patrick, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly pleased with what was going on.

While making him jealous, or annoyed, or whatever it was that he was feeling, wasn’t your expressed goal, it did feel nice to give him a taste of his own medicine. What felt less nice was glancing over and catching him typing on his phone furiously. You could only imagine whose boobs were on the other end of the line. 

Reacting out of a bit of desperation and frustration, you began to play things up. You leaned over more to show off more cleavage, laughed a little harder at jokes that weren’t all that funny, and set a scandalous hand on his arm. You were determined to have that vacation fling now, and you were going to get it by any means necessary. 

You laid it on thick for the rest of the afternoon, sitting next to him during lunch and flirting casually with him as your group walked through Park Güell. 

You wondered if he noticed you throwing glances in Patrick’s direction after every interaction. You hoped that he didn’t. 

It felt good to be getting even with Patrick—but not as good as you expected it to feel. The realization sunk in as a portion of your group visited a bar that was apparently very popular with the locals. Or at least, that’s what a very handsome man purred into your ear after sitting down next to you at the bar.

You’d been keeping an eye on Patrick as he socialized with a couple that he’d been talking to for the majority of your day, but you almost instantly lost track of him as you became consumed with this handsome stranger. 

Everything happened in a bit of a blur—one moment you’d been nursing a Marianito, and the next you were holding the hand of a man whose name you couldn’t remember as he led you to his apartment. 

By the time you’d left his apartment, you were nothing short of a mess. You were pretty sure that the only way you could’ve been more obvious about what had just happened to you was if you had the words “JUST HAD SEX” written across your forehead—and with the way the people in your hotel elevator were looking at you, you couldn’t be completely sure that those words weren’t on your face. 

You made it back to your room safely, quietly opening the door and doing your best not to make too much noise, since at this hour, Patrick was surely asleep. 

It did feel weird to be going back to his bed less than an hour after you’d been with another man, but you couldn’t necessarily say you felt bad. Patrick had started it, and you simply finished it off. If he didn’t have any issues with seeing other people, there was no reason for you to have an issue with it either. 

Your efforts to be quiet had proved themselves to be for naught, as Patrick was very clearly wide awake, sitting up in bed and already looking at you disapprovingly. 

You weren’t sure what possessed you to speak, rather than ignoring his presence and heading straight to the shower, but your mouth was open before you could stop yourself. 

“Were you just gonna wait here until I got back, like I’m a kid who just snuck out or something?” you asked in disbelief, partially annoyed because of his action, but more ashamed to have been caught in such a state. It couldn’t have been more obvious to Patrick what you’d just done, considering that he’d seen you in a similar state hundreds of times. 

“Baby, we are on a whole different, unfamiliar continent,” his tone was condescending and cold and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “Why wouldn’t I wait to make sure you got back safely?”

“Don’t call me pet names. And I would’ve been fine. We were just at the bar,” you lied. Going to the apartment of a random man you just met probably wasn’t your brightest idea, but you made it out alive, and that was what mattered. 

“Huh. The bar?” he smirked at you in a way that screamed that he was pissed, without really having to say a word. 

“Yes, I- what does it matter to you anyway?” you hoped that the question would be enough to get you out of the situation. If you were going to argue, you at least wanted to argue after you were showered and in pajamas.

“What does it matter to me if you fucked someone else?” he asked, sounding like he was in complete disbelief. 

“Yeah, Patrick. Why does it matter if I fucked someone else? We’re not together anymore. Did you forget? I mean, it seemed pretty obvious to you when you stopped speaking to me completely a few months ago.”

“Please, enlighten me. What did I have to speak to you about?” 

“I don’t know! Maybe an ‘are you okay?’ would’ve been nice. Or something. Anything, really. We were together for six fucking years and you just dropped me like I was dirt!”

“I…” he trailed off, catching you by surprise. He almost always had a quick clever response that managed to piss you off in a way no one else ever could, so seeing him not knowing what to say next caught you off guard. “If our relationship meant that much to you, why were you all over that guy? I mean, seriously. I’ve never seen anything so desperate. You were practically rubbing yourself on him in the park like a bitch in heat.”

Contempt dripped from his words. You had never been so enraged.

“Are you joking?” you laughed out of sheer anger. “Patrick, you started it! How many Tinder girls have you seen since we broke up? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me. I saw everything you’ve been sending to Amelia. Amelia, I’m so lonely. Amelia, I’m so horny. Amelia, I love you so much,” you mocked.

“You went through my phone?” he asked in disbelief, not even bothering to address the rest of your statement. “Fuck. You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? How long did it even take you before we split for you to start seeing other people? I mean, knowing you, you were probably just waiting for the day we broke up to go get your dick wet.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” for a second, he looked genuinely wounded—something you were only able to recognize after years of being in a relationship with the man. You didn’t like that you were actively hurting him, but he’d been inflicting pain on you from the moment you broke up.

“Fine,” you conceded on that front, knowing that he was right. It wasn’t completely true. If you hadn’t gone through his phone, you never would’ve guessed that he had already moved on. “But you’ve still been seeing other people.”

“We’ve been broken up for months now,” he replied, as if that was supposed to make things any better or more reasonable. 

“Then why do you care so much about me having sex with someone else? It’s fine when you do it, but suddenly it’s an issue for me?” 

Patrick’s face immediately paled. “You really fucked him?”

“Well, yeah,” you paused. “Well, not who you’re thinking of.”

“You fucked someone else?!” The hurt and disbelief buried under his words made your stomach churn. “You were flirting with that other douchebag all day, I don’t-“

“You’re acting like I’m some whore for reacting to something that you did first!” you cut him off. 

“And you’re acting like I wanted to get rid of you this whole time!” he shot back out at you. 

“Clearly you fucking did,” you hissed. 

“Fuck you,” he huffed. 

“Fuck you,” you shot right back. “I’m leaving.”

“Good,” Patrick replied with a shrug as if he didn’t care, although you were very sure that he cared. “Go run back to your little fuck buddy.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” you replied as you gathered your items back into your suitcase. “He was better than you, by the way.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he said snarkily as he watched you pack up your items. Luckily, you didn’t have much to pack up and were already heading towards the door. 

“He had a bigger dick, too,” you said as you swung open the hotel room door, fully satisfied with a lie that you knew would bother Patrick. 

While leaving your hotel room seemed like a wonderful idea in the moment, as you went down the elevator, you started to realize that you really did not have many options for where you’d sleep that night. 

You figured your best bet was the hotel lobby. Maybe you could pretend to be someone who’d drank too much and passed out on the first floor before you made it up to your room. You sat down in a comfortable looking chair and grabbed your keycard—in case anyone asked you to verify who you were—then set a floppy hat on your head to cover your face from the bright hotel lobby lights while you attempted to sleep. 

Sleep was already going to be difficult to accomplish, thanks to the argument that you were certainly going to be ruminating on for days to come. That was only made more difficult by the uncomfortable seating and position you’d found yourself in. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep, being woken up by a hotel employee and a friend you’d made from your tour group.

“Long night, huh?” she asked you with a playful smirk. 

“Mm, something like that,” you mumbled sleepily. 

“Well, you can sleep on the coach. It just got here, so we’ll have the best pick of seats. C’mon,” she extended her hand out to you and you gladly took it, in desperate need of something grounding. 

You dozed off on the coach once you’d gotten settled, headphones securely on your ears and sunglasses covering your closed eyes. You were vaguely aware of people boarding the vehicle around you, but didn’t pay much mind to anything. Eventually, you heard the faint sound of someone taking attendance of the people on the bus, followed by the commotion of someone getting on the bus late. 

Something compelled you to open up your eyes, and when you did, you were displeased to find that Patrick was the source of all of the drama. Likely thing for him to be. He scrambled down the aisle, looking desperately for empty seats. To your own horror, you realized that the seat next to you was vacant, and perhaps the only vacant seat on the entire coach. 

As if your minds were connected, you watched Patrick face that very same dilemma as he eventually decided to sit down in the only empty seat, right next to you. 

Neither of you said anything at first, not addressing your blowout argument the previous night, or your awkward current situation. 

“You look like shit,” Patrick finally said as the bus took off. 

“Thanks,” you replied, mentally preparing yourself for a continuation of the argument you’d had just a few hours ago. It was only a matter of time before he brought up your promiscuity or started blatantly texting his Tinderella. 

But none of that ever came. In fact, he just looked a little sad. It was weird to see Patrick so openly defeated. He was always one to put on a smirk or a challenging smile when you argued, letting the façade fall once he was alone, or once the two of you finally discussed what the issue was like adults.

You weren’t sure that you liked it. You preferred annoying asshole Patrick to sad, moping Patrick. 

“You look like shit, too,” you added. “Which is crazy, since you had access to a shower and I didn’t.”

“And whose fault is that?” he asked, looking at you with the slightest hint of that devious smile. You had to fight the slightest inkling of a smile on your own face. 

You felt ridiculous knowing that your mood was still being influenced by your former partner. Even when he was insulting you. Even after he’d spent the night arguing with you. Even after you’d slept with someone else. Even after the two of you had a messy split. 

You still loved him. 

“Yours, mostly,” you shrugged and put your headphones back on. 

PARIS, FRANCE

Despite your brief conversation on the bus, you and Patrick didn’t speak to each other for the entirety of your commute. Although you clearly cared about him, it didn’t change the fact that he had upset and hurt you deeply. And even as upset as you were, you knew that you’d hurt him just as badly. 

You had a particular dread for what awaited you in France, knowing that this part of the tour was very couples-activity heavy. When you’d scheduled your trip, this aspect of the tour felt like a major selling point. The two of you always seemed to be falling more in love with each other, and having a candlelit dinner by the Eiffel Tower felt like an exciting way to kick off your marriage. 

Now, you just felt like an idiot.

The two of you did your absolute best to avoid getting paired up with each other for all of the activities that you could. You found yourself spending most of your time with a solo traveler who was close in age to you. She made a surprisingly fun companion to your cheese and wine taste test, popping cubes of fragrant cheese into your mouth and making a competition out of who could detect the most accurate notes in your wine. 

While you found luck in your first few activities, you weren’t so lucky when it came to an evening ride of the Roue de Paris. Whether it was fate or just bad luck, after the pair in front of you had dipped out of line for reasons unknown to you, you had the shocking realization that Patrick had been in between them the whole time. So much for meeting new people on the massive ferris wheel. 

You tried to look busy so he wouldn’t notice that you noticed, and did your best to think of some sort of game plan. Although you’d essentially been giving each other the silent treatment in the hours leading up to this moment, you’d caught Patrick looking at you multiple times throughout the day—something you only noticed because you’d been looking at him as well. 

After a moment, the two of you were let into an empty passenger car. Sitting across from one another, it was hard to ignore the very obvious elephants in the room, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. 

At first, you simply looked out the window, not saying a single word as the ferris wheel began to move. 

“You should put that safety belt on, just in case,” Patrick commented from his side of the car, pulling his eyes away from the window to look at you. 

“I doubt anything will happen,” you shrugged. “It’s fine.”

He eyed you suspiciously for a moment, before leaning over and strapping you in anyway. Your breath caught in your throat, his simple action putting you into serious psychological pain. It wasn’t lost on you how much Patrick liked to take care of you. It was far more obvious when the two of you were dating, with him covering the bills for dates and doing your laundry for you. It had been so ironic to you at the time, how a man who could barely take care of himself always went out of his way to make sure that you were going to be okay. 

Now, his small act of kindness just made your stomach turn. But it wasn’t like you could express any of those feelings. 

“Thanks,” was all that you managed before looking out of the window once more. 

An awkward, heavy silence filled the passenger car once more as the ride began to take the two of you higher. 

“The view is so beautiful,” you commented, unable to remain silent anymore and hoping that your words were neutral enough not to stir any pots. 

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” his gaze remained fixed out the window, before he looked at you once more as if there were words on the tip of his tongue. 

“I honestly don’t know how we managed to get in line in time to see the sunset,” you continued with your boring, neutral small talk. 

“I’m glad we did. This is the perfect spot to watch it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, continuing to look out the window instead of at the man across from you. “It’s so pretty tonight, too.”

“It is,” he agreed. 

The two of you sat in silence again, only the sound of a soft whirring filling your ears. Then suddenly, all at once, the whirring stopped—and so did your passenger car. 

“Are we stuck?” you asked, looking out nervously at the very tall height that the two of you were currently definitely stuck at. 

“We can’t be. It’ll probably start back up in a second.”

It didn’t start back up in a second. In fact, after a series of announcements in French, an announcement in English suddenly declared that it would be at least an hour before the ride could be fixed. 

At the sound of the announcement, both you and Patrick sighed aloud, still synchronized even after everything you’d been through. 

“Maybe this is a sign,” Patrick piped up. 

“What are you talking about?” you laughed at him, hoping desperately that this didn’t mean that he wanted to continue arguing with you. You genuinely did not have it in you to do so again. You also didn’t have it in you to sleep in another hotel lobby. 

“Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day,” he confessed. 

“Is that why you were staring at me all day?” you teased, a weak, slightly hopeful smile creeping onto your face. 

“I was looking at you because I could feel you staring at me,” he clarified, as if he was setting the record straight. “I don’t want things to be like this between us anymore.”

“Yeah?” you asked, the pit of nerves in your stomach tightening at wherever he was going with his spiel. The anticipation of his words alone made you nauseous. 

“So I think that we should talk about last night,” he suggested. 

That was exactly what you didn’t want to hear him say. You had barely processed the argument yourself, let alone think about anything else that you had to say to Patrick that didn’t involve trying to hurt him as much as he hurt you. 

“We don’t have to. It’s fine. The past is in the past,” you dismissed. 

“It’s not fine, though. Not really,” he countered, all earnestness. You didn’t detect any harshness to his words or any blood in the water that indicated to you that he wanted to do anything more than have an honest conversation with you. “I was so out of line. I can’t- I don’t want you to think that I really believe the things I said about you.”

“Patrick, please…” you trailed off, hoping that he would understand that you didn’t really want to talk about this. Though, you were relieved to learn that he’d only said those things out of the heat of the moment. 

“No,” he stood his ground. “We need to talk about this if we ever want our relationship to improve.”

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you start, so I can collect my thoughts.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward so he could get a better look at you, and you were immediately drawn into some intense eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, and I really shouldn’t have let you leave our hotel room. That was really stupid of me. I worried about you for the rest of the night and spent the morning looking for you.”

This was surprising information to you. While you did find it to be a bit of a dick move that Patrick would just let you leave like that after lecturing you about being unsafe in a new country, you hadn’t realized that he’d been late to boarding the coach because he’d been searching for you. You could only imagine the sick feeling he had as he realized he couldn’t find you anywhere. 

“I’m sorry for what I said, too. Insulting you for trying to move on was really unfair of me. I was just… hurt, I guess. When I don’t even have the right to be.”

“You do, a little. We were together for a really long time, so it’s gonna feel weird that we’re starting to see other people,” you shrugged. “That was an excellent apology, that I accept, by the way.”

“Thank you. I really got a chance to practice my apology skills with the last woman I was with,” he explained. You tried to repress the feeling of jealousy that was already bubbling up in your stomach at the mention of another woman. 

“Yeah?” you asked, hoping that he didn’t notice the brief twitch of your eye.

“Yeah. She’s super opinionated and outspoken, so we would butt heads a lot. But that was always something I really liked about her. That, and her magnificent ass.”

Finally, it occurred to you that he was talking about you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, despite the fact that you were secretly very flattered by the way he was speaking about you. “Ew. Shut up,” you laughed. 

“Well, if you’re done objectifying me, I would love to apologize to you too.”

“All done objectifying you. For now, at least. Go ahead.”

You were a little nervous about the words that were about to come out of your mouth. You just had so much to say, and you weren’t sure that it was all going to come out correctly. 

“I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I genuinely did not mean what I said, I just got caught up in the moment. And I’m really sorry for going through your phone, because that’s seriously none of my business. It was such an unnecessary violation of trust, and I understand if you’re still pissed at me for that. And it was really ridiculous for me to overreact the way that I did over you seeing someone else, because again, it’s really not my business. I feel like I’m kinda the worst,” you confessed. 

“You’re not the worst,” he countered. 

“Fine, I guess. Maybe you just bring the worst out in me,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly. 

“That sounds more accurate. We bring out the worst in each other.”

“Right. That’s why we’re such a good pair,” you paused, then corrected yourself. “Of friends.”

“Is that what we are now?”

“I never said we were good friends.”

“Frenemies?”

“Something like that,” you said, before the familiar whirring sound of the ferris wheel began once more. 

“Huh. Who would’ve thought that the only thing the wheel needed to function was an apology to each other?”

“You’re so annoying,” you laughed and shook your head. “How are we gonna make it through the rest of this trip?”

LONDON, ENGLAND

Your final few days in France had been made far less awkward by your conversation on the ferris wheel. Deciding to fully embrace the couples activities the tour had reserved for you, the two of you were having a good time re-establishing your friendship. 

Your trip to London had gone mostly without a hitch, with your group arriving in the city in the evening and immediately checking in to your hotel. At this point, you had given up on even attempting to get separate beds. It seemed like every morning now you woke up cuddling with Patrick, but you weren’t necessarily mad at the unintentional intimacy. 

In some ways, your relationship was beginning to feel similar to how it felt before the two of you broke up. While you were sure that things wouldn’t be exactly the same—especially since you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room that was your breakup—it was nice to return to the comfort you’d found in your relationship with Patrick. 

Like clockwork, the morning after your arrival in London, you woke up with Patrick pressed up against your back, nose buried in your hair. As he woke up, he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline out of what you were sure was just habit rather than genuine affection. 

“Morning,” he greeted you groggily, rolling away from your side. 

“Morning,” you replied, turning to face him. You ran a hand through his messy morning hair and looked at him fondly. It was taking far more self control than you had to not lean over and kiss him. “What time is it?” you asked, in part to distract yourself, but also because the digital clock was on his side of the bed. 

“It’s…” he trailed off as he went to read the time. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be late.”

“What?” you asked, shooting up from your relaxed position. 

“It’s 8:25,” he explained, already rolling out of bed. 

In a rush, the two of you got dressed in record time, making it down to the lobby in the five minutes that you had to make it on time. You shared a high-five in the lobby, and tried your best not to dwell on how the simple action felt far more domestic than it needed to. 

Your tour began not too long after that, getting your day off to a strong start. Your day of exploring London was by far your busiest. You were sure that you’d accumulated thousands of steps as you went between large museums, beautiful parks, and massive landmarks. By the time that you returned to your hotel room, you were pretty sure that your legs were mush. 

You returned earlier than Patrick, who had gone out to a gastropub with a group of tourists in your group that he got along well with. You took this as an opportunity to have some alone time, taking a long and steaming hot shower, frolicking around the room in a soft hotel robe, and watching a movie while you waited for your room service to arrive. 

After you’d thoroughly enjoyed your alone time, finishing off your room service and opting to scroll on your phone, the door cracked open and Patrick strolled in. 

“Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he observed. 

“I had to after today’s tour. So much walking,” you groaned. 

“It wasn’t all that bad,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you in bed. 

“Well, not all of us are professional athletes,” you laughed. “How was the pub?”

“Fun. It’d be better if you came.”

“I’m sorry, I was exhausted,” you sighed. “You could’ve stayed in with me and had a spa day.”

“We can have a spa day anywhere. We can have a spa day right now.”

“Mm, I’m all spa’d out. But the water pressure in the shower is excellent, so you should definitely check that out.”

“I will in a little bit,” he said. “Did you try out the actual spa here?”

“They were closed when I checked, which really sucks, since I was in desperate need of a massage.”

“Do you still want one?” Patrick asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll probably try to stop by when they’re open tomorrow and get one.”

“No, I mean, do you want a massage now?” he added. 

It had been a long time since Patrick had offered you a massage—or to put his hands on you in any capacity—but you remembered him being criminally talented at giving them. You also remembered his massages usually making for great foreplay that left your knees weak and your brain a pile of jelly, but that clearly wouldn’t be the case now, and you needed to get your head out of the gutter. 

“I mean, sure. That would be nice,” you tried not to sound too excited, though the prospect of a massage from him sounded very, very nice. 

While the prospect of a massage sounded nice, the actual massage was heavenly. You were sure that years of having personal trainers and physical therapists work knots out of his body had made him an expert at finding knots and kinks in your own, which was now leaving you sighing happily as he ran his hands over your back. 

You tried your best to ignore the dull, fiery feeling growing in your lower stomach that was surely a result of experiencing a type of intimacy that you hadn’t in quite some time. As you let out an involuntary soft sound at a particular knot being rubbed out of your shoulder, you wondered if this massage was affecting him nearly as much as it was affecting you.

You promptly received an answer to this question when something hard and phallic brushed up against your leg. You turned your head to glance back at Patrick, and his face immediately grew red. 

“Sorry. I can stop, if you want. It just happened because of the noises you’re making and- whatever. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Part of you felt a little satisfied knowing that you still had that type of impact on him. It gave you a tiny glimmer of hope to know that you were still, at the least, physically attracted to one another. 

“It’s fine. I’ll shut up.”

“You don’t have to. I want this to be as relaxing as possible for you.”

“Well you’re doing a great job, if you couldn’t tell from all of the moaning and groaning on my end.”

You both somehow made it through the rest of the massage without spilling all over the bed, but as you melted into the bed, feeling every muscle in your body relaxed from your excellent massage, you couldn’t help but note the suspiciously long time Patrick was spending in the shower. And maybe it was just your imagination, but if you listened hard enough, you swore you could hear the sound of a soft chanting of your name coming from the other side of the bathroom door. 

While part of you regretted not suggesting that the two of you help each other out with your mutual problems, you were pretty sure that it was for the best. You genuinely didn’t know where the two of you stood, as far as your relationship went. Hooking up would surely further complicate an already complicated situation, since you were pretty sure that ex-fiancés didn’t typically sleep together. But then again, ex-fiancés also didn’t usually go on a honeymoon despite not being together. Your complicated feelings on the matter only further proved to you that you made the right choice by not giving in to your baser desires. 

By the time Patrick joined you in bed, you were already half asleep. Yet, even in your delirious state, you didn’t miss the way he came up behind you, pulling you into a loving embrace. It brought warmth to your chest to know that he couldn’t even wait for your automatic sleep routine to hold you, and that he felt the need to take matters into his own hands. 

You were pretty sure that exes didn’t do that either. 

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS 

You didn’t know what you expected from your first ferry ride, but being face deep in a barf bag while soothing circles were rubbed into your back was certainly not it. 

Given that you weren’t a frequent rider of large vessels on bodies of water, you had no clue going into the ride that things would go so sideways so quickly for you. If anything, you thought you might have the opportunity to stare peacefully out into the water, or to force Patrick to take a few cute pictures of you. Unfortunately, you were currently doing neither of those things—and it didn’t seem like you’d be doing them any time soon. 

You heaved once more, now almost totally sure that you had nothing left to give. Patrick continued to hold your hair out of your face with one hand and use his other to comfortingly rub your back, not at all fazed by your sickness. If you weren’t currently fighting off another wave of nausea and didn’t have the taste of bile lingering in your mouth, you probably could’ve kissed the man. 

Once your brain finally told you the coast was clear, you leaned your head back and took several deep, gasping breaths of air. 

“You alright, honey?” he asked you, and you didn’t even have the strength—physical or mental—to correct his use of a pet name. 

“I could be better,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tilted your head back. “There’s medicine for this, right?”

“Yeah. Let me go see if I can find some.”

As you fought off a war of nausea and headache that was currently beating you on all fronts, you could faintly hear the sound of Patrick asking the people around you if they had any medicine for motion sickness. He eventually returned after what felt like a lifetime, but was probably more like a few minutes, carrying a bottle of Dramamine. 

He helped you take the pill, putting it in your mouth then holding a bottle of water up to your lips to help you swallow it. The action felt oddly romantic, though it was more of a matter of practicality compared to anything else. You were clearly not in a stable enough space to get the pill down on your own, so his assistance wasn’t really anything for you to be over analyzing. 

“Look at you, keeping that down,” he teased, running his hand up and down your arm. The motion was soothing, a bit of bodily comfort amongst a plethora of other awful physical pains you were experiencing. “You’re doing great.”

His soft caresses turned into a full-blown hug, with Patrick pulling you into a tight embrace. While the action itself was rather cute—especially since it seemed to be completely impulsive on his part—it instantly brought on a new wave of nausea. 

“Pat?” you squeaked. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“You’re sweet. But if we stay like this, I am going to be sick all over you.”

He pulled away from you with concern, careful not to move too quickly to set off another bout of sickness. While he let go of your body, he continued to hold your hand, as if he were attempting to ground you. With how anxious he was looking, he might’ve been trying to ground himself as well. 

It was cute seeing him so worried about you. You tried your best not to read too much into it, and luckily, your slowly fading nausea was the perfect distraction from doing so. 

“Thank you for the drugs. It was fun watching you scramble all around asking people for help. You’re such a good…” you paused, not really knowing what you were or what to say. “Ex.”

Now wasn’t exactly the ideal time to have the, ‘what are we?’ conversation, but Patrick didn’t seem to mind. And if he did mind, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. 

“Only the best for my ex.” Maybe you’d just been imaging it, but you swore you sensed a bit of hesitation on his end as he called you his ex. Admittedly, it would be significantly easier for both of you to be calling each other spouses, or even partners. But alas, you weren’t either of those things to each other anymore. 

As if you’d read each other's minds, the two of you quickly moved on from that conversation. 

After you’d arrived and gotten settled into Amsterdam, you set off to explore the city. When presented with a few options of things to do, Patrick insisted that the two of you go on a bike tour, much to your own chagrin. As much as you weren’t sure your legs could handle any more strenuous physical activity, you’d known that Patrick had wanted to take this bike tour since your trip was an actual honeymoon. Who were you to deny him of that?

As the two of you toured the very beautiful city, Patrick made sure to make a show out of his biking skills. While he was no professional cyclist, he certainly had the ego of one—which translated to him going a little too hard at times and nearly falling off of his bike more than once. 

Each time he almost fell, you found yourself also almost falling, the onset of laughter at the ridiculous man riding next to you nearly being too much to handle. Without fail, every time the two of you did your almost falling, then break into a howling laughter routine, you were given dirty looks by your fellow tour mates. Unfortunately, that only made the situation funnier to you and Patrick. 

By the time the tour had wrapped, it was clear that everyone was sick and tired of you. But at least this time, the people around you were sick of the girlish giggles Patrick pulled from you, rather than the rude words he provoked you into saying, like he’d done on the plane. 

It was refreshing to be spending time with him like this. In the time that you’d been so upset about your break up, you forgot about just how good it felt to be around Patrick when your relationship was going well. 

It was also nice to be spending some alone time with him, away from the rest of your tour group. As the two of you looked at strange knick-knacks in an antique store, you realized just how much you missed being alone with him. While it was nice that the two of you had made friends within your group, your dynamic as a duo was obviously something really special. Maybe that’s why the two of you had been together for so long. 

You spent the majority of the afternoon doubled over in laughter, playfully teasing Patrick, or being on the receiving end of subtle, gentle touches. As you really began to think about it, this day of travel had been your favorite—by a long shot. It also happened to be the day that felt most like one from a honeymoon.

Although it had already been clear to you for some time that you still had feelings for Patrick, the day you had spent together had completely sealed the deal. Once Patrick had surprised you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers over dinner, you’d only been more sure that you were sick with love for your ex.

It was a small miracle that you’d rounded out the day without confessing your feelings, particularly since you ended the evening with a movie playing on the television of your hotel room that the two of you barely paid attention to, as Patrick held you and talked about some of the things you’d missed while the two of you were separated. 

In the morning, you woke up to the soft sound of chatter, rather than your loud alarm clock or the sound of deep breaths in the shell of your ear. 

From what you could faintly make out from the words and the lack of a warm body beside you, Patrick was on the phone with his mother. You wanted to feel bad for eavesdropping, especially since you’d just had an argument with Patrick over your snooping habit just over a week ago, but it was far too difficult not to listen in. 

“I’m glad you liked the picture,” you made out from the muffled words behind the doorway. You were sure he was referencing the selfie the two of you took in front of Big Ben a few days ago. You also liked the photo a lot, with the two of you looking particularly good and particularly happy. You’d also taken a more baity photo of him kissing your cheek, specifically to send to his mother who he knew would be overjoyed to see you. While Patrick had explained the idea behind the picture as his mom simply wanting to see you, you knew the more accurate statement is that his mom wanted to see the two of you together. 

After a beat, there was a soft chuckle. “No, we’re not back together. No mom, there’s no ‘yet.’ I know. I’m an idiot, I know- aren’t you supposed to take your child’s side? Well, I don’t know if you know this, but we never ended up getting married, so no, she’s not your daughter. How could she possibly be your favorite child! We just talked about this. I’m gonna hang up. I’m serious. Alright. Love you, bye.”

When Patrick returned, you were already sitting up in bed. 

“Can you tell your mom I say hi next time?” you asked with a cheeky grin on your face, still coming off of the high that was the romantic outing you’d had the day prior. 

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” he replied, getting back into bed beside you. “She probably wants to hear from you more than she wants to hear from me.”

You laughed and shook your head, not bothering to argue with his words since you both knew they were pretty accurate. 

“I mean, I’m sure she’ll be inviting you to Thanksgiving and Christmas long after we’ve moved on with other people and have our own families.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were sure of it. You thought you could genuinely feel the movement of your most vital organ slowly sinking into a pit of stomach acid. 

You tried not to let your smile falter, considering that Patrick was looking right at you with a sweet look of his own plastered on his face. You wondered if this was some sort of test, to gauge how you felt after a day of rekindling the love the two of you thought had burnt out. 

Or maybe, more realistically, he’d already come to accept the reality that you’d been stalling on accepting: your relationship was truly over. One fun day wouldn’t change the fact that your wedding had been called off, and that the two of you said things to each other that would alter the foundations of any solid relationship for years to come. 

Your heart was such a traitor. She refused to accept the simple fact that Patrick wanted to move on, and that your relationship was a thing of the past. Maybe, if you couldn’t convince your heart to accept that truth, you might be able to force your brain to. 

“And I’ll still be accepting that invitation, thank you very much,” you stated, trying to sound confident in your words. “In the meantime, let’s get ready before we miss this bus. You can tell me what your mom’s menu is gonna look like this year on our ride over.”

SOMEWHERE IN CENTRAL GERMANY

It was stupid for you to be torn up the way that you were over just a few simple words, but the more you thought about it, the worse you felt. 

In reality, it wasn’t just what Patrick had said to you in the hotel room. It was the fact that he’d been actively trying to move on with other people since who knew when, and the way he seemed to frequently verbally reiterate the fact that your relationship was over. By holding out hope that you might somehow be able to repair your relationship, you were being much more naïve than you even realized. 

You felt stupid. But you also felt confused, because as much as Patrick swore he was over you, and pursued other people, he was also far too comfortable acting like nothing had changed between you two. After all, he was the one flirting with you, and trying to attach himself at the hip to you as you traveled. He was the one who always managed to end up spooning you over the course of the night and woke up kissing whatever part of your body he was closest to. For god's sake, he’d just told you yesterday about how he’d searched high and low to find a bouquet of flowers that he thought you would genuinely like. And most damningly, you hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on his face when he found out that you had slept with someone else. That wasn’t the behavior of someone who was over their partner.

To say you were receiving mixed messages was a complete understatement. You couldn’t understand how it was possible that the man who was currently leaning against you very affectionately, despite being on a cramped bus, was also totally over you and wanted to move on.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do about the situation, but you were sure that you couldn’t keep going like this. 

Your bus stopped somewhere in Germany for the evening, letting you all out to have dinner and do some light sightseeing before regrouping in the morning and heading to Prague. Somehow, that translated to going to a bar to try out German beer for you, Patrick, and a few of the friends you’d made while traveling. 

After a brief intermission of checking into your hotel room, your small group met up in the lobby, then set off to find a bar. 

Drinking while you were feeling a little upset probably wasn’t your brightest idea. The speed and volume at which you were consuming alcohol was a little concerning, but not nearly as concerning as how much Patrick was drinking. Eventually, even in your drunken state, you realized that you should probably slow down—if nothing else, to take care of him. 

But the two of you continued on, going from bar to bar, getting drunk at a level that probably would’ve been acceptable when you were younger, but was certainly going to take a major toll on you now. 

Forgetting about the repercussions of the future, you two were having a great time. Despite you being out with a group, it felt a little bit like the two of you were in your own little bubble. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter as the two of you took shots and danced together. Not the people around you, not the fact that you had to be up early the next morning to make it onto your coach, not even the fact that Patrick had implied that the two of you would move on and have families with other people only a few days ago. 

By the time that the rest of your group had called it quits, explaining that they wanted to be up and functional in time for your ride the next morning, you and Patrick were still in your own little world. It was only after you’d shared a few drunk cigarettes that the two of you decided that the fun should end, and that it was time to head back to your hotel. 

Unfortunately for you, midway through your trek back home, your drinking buddy had given up on walking, leaving you tasked with literally dragging him all the way back to your hotel. While a sober version of yourself would’ve been annoyed by the inconvenience, all you could really think about was how nice it was to have his body so close to yours.

After a tumultuous journey back, the two of you finally made it back to your hotel room. You had only been in the room for a matter of seconds before Patrick collapsed onto the bed and let out a loud sigh of relief, followed by an even louder yawn, as if he was the one who had just carried you down the road.

It was annoyingly endearing. 

You had half the mind to at least get somewhat ready before getting into bed, shedding your outermost layer of clothing before joining Patrick in bed. 

“Thank you,” he said to you once you laid down next to him. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, your head still pleasantly buzzing from the alcohol. “But I’m never doing that again.”

“Aww, why? We had so much fun,” he practically whined. “I always have so much fun when we’re together.”

“I had fun, but you’re so heavy. You’d never guess it. All those muscles,” in the midst of your complaining, you reached over to grab his bicep to demonstrate his point. 

He laughed, which made you laugh, though you didn’t exactly know what you were laughing at. Then, out of the blue, he randomly said your name in a very serious tone. 

“Can you help me with something?” he asked, sounding very genuine and giving you a look that you couldn’t quite place in your drunken state. 

“Anything,” you replied earnestly and meant it. You would probably do literally anything that he asked you to do at that moment. Move a mountain? You’d start pushing. Marry him? You’d wake up an officiant and come up with vows on the spot. Help him hide a body? You were sure you could find a shovel somewhere.

“Can you help me get my shoes off?” he lifted a foot as he spoke to demonstrate his point, a little pout on his lips. You were a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked you for anything else, but you also weren’t quite sure what it was that you wanted him to ask you for. 

You groaned playfully, a long and drawn out sound that you hoped would communicate that you were exhausted after dragging him through the city and comfortable where you were laying. Still, you leaned over and untied his shoes before gently slipping them off. When you looked back up at Patrick, his pants were newly half undone and halfway off, but it looked as if he had given up fully taking his pants off. 

“Need help with that too?” you asked, though you were already working on slipping the article of clothing off of his legs.

Though you tried to push the thought out of your mind, you couldn’t help but recall a similar night the two of you shared several years ago. Your relationship was still relatively new, but you were already very obviously in love. So in love that you’d gone out of your way to set up a surprise party to celebrate a particularly successful tennis match, decorating your apartment with photos of him with trophies and other tennis paraphernalia and inviting as many of his close friends that you could track down. Still riding the high of winning and his all-consuming adoration of you, Patrick had partied a little too hard, leaving you in charge of tucking him in at the end of the night. 

After bringing him a glass of water, the man snuggled into your sheets and slurred out a comment about how they smelled like you. You felt your cheeks warm as he continued on in a disjointed ramble, talking about how much he appreciated you and how no one had ever gone out of their way to make him feel like that before. He ended his monologue with a request for you to help him take his clothes off, and you happily obliged. It was tender and far more intimate than you’d expected, and ended in a drawn out kiss that left you giggling as you told Patrick that he tasted like Smirnoff Ice. 

Even as inebriated as you currently were, the nostalgia made you feel a little dizzy. 

By the time you’d finished helping him get his pants off, Patrick had clearly given up on getting his shirt off, too. Once again, you moved your hands up his body and helped him out with the piece of fabric. 

“Look at that. All ready for bed,” you commented, setting a hand on his bare chest. The small action made your heart soar, and you promptly decided that it was probably better for you to avoid touching him altogether. 

“My watch?” Patrick asked, lifting his wrist up to show you the accessory. 

“You can take your watch off yourself,” you replied, leaning back into bed and finally laying down. 

“Fine.”

“Night, Patty,” you said, reaching over to turn out the bedside lamp. 

“Wait,” he paused pensively, as if he was digging deep in the recesses of his mind to conjure up what he was about to say. “A kiss?”

“Patrick!” you gasped, sounding far more scandalized by the proposition than you actually were. Of course you would give him a kiss, you just weren’t sure you were ready to open up that can of worms, especially after you’d had a minor crisis at the realization that he genuinely wanted to move on.

“No goodnight kiss? C’mon. Fully commit to tucking me in,” Patrick insisted, as if it was the most logical thing ever. As if either of you had the self control to not let something as simple as a kiss spiral out of control. 

“Fine,” you sighed before pressing a gentle peck to his forehead, figuring that was the safest place to do so. A forehead kiss was about as platonic as it got with you.  “Sweet dreams.”

“Thank you,” he said, rather sweetly as his eyes shut. “Love you.”

Those words instantly gave you pause, causing you to suddenly feel very alert and very sober.

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“I said I love you?” Patrick repeated, looking at you with confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” though it was very much not nothing. In fact, if his confession was true, it would change everything. “Go to bed.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick grabbed your arm, looking very worried in the low light of the room. “You’re mad. You’re mad that I love you?”

You didn’t even know how you were supposed to react to that admission. While it had been exactly what you’d been dying to hear from him for months, it only further complicated your already very complicated situation.

“I’m not mad, I’m… I’m just tired. Let’s go to sleep, okay?”

Your explanation seemed to placate Patrick enough to let it go and go to sleep. He shuffled around to get comfortable behind you, before pulling you in to hold you as he’d done for the entirety of the trip. Except, tonight, it didn’t feel quite right. The mixture of his frequent rejections of you, paired with his casual confession that he still loved you made your head spin. 

The following morning, you woke up with a pounding in your head and a gross taste in your mouth—only one of which, you could fully attribute to the drinking you’d done last night. You clumsily reached for your phone, and found yourself pleasantly surprised to find an announcement about the delay of the next bus you would be getting on. 

You got out of bed with a grunt, your entire body aching with the reminder of having to drag Patrick through the city last night. Somehow, the sore muscles didn’t hurt nearly as much compared to the memory of being told that Patrick still loved you. 

You slowly paced back and forth around your hotel room, desperately trying to organize your racing thoughts. Did Patrick actually mean what he said last night? Or had been caught up in the heat of the moment? If anything, the latter seemed more likely, since he’d been very obviously trying to distance himself from you. But had he really been distancing himself from you, or just talking about distancing himself from you? If his care for you on the ferry had been any indication of how he really felt about you, it was possible that his drunken words were more honest than you were trying to convince yourself that they were. 

Finally, you decided to stop annoying the person staying in the room under you with your increasingly frantic pacing, and to go outside to walk. Some fresh air would be good for you anyway. 

“Where’re you going?” a muffled voice, heavy with sleep asked. You paused the tying of your shoes to look over at the bed, where Patrick was currently squinting at you.  

“I’m just going for a walk,” you told him. “Go back to sleep. The coach is coming late.”

“Wait for me. I’ll come with you.”

That was probably the last thing you needed or wanted. After all, the whole purpose of your walk was to help you sort out your thoughts about Patrick. To say he wasn’t a welcome addition to your trip was an understatement.

“Okay,” you said anyway, against your better judgment. It seemed like you hadn’t been using much of your judgment at all on this trip. What was one more poor decision on top of a series of poor decisions?

You watched him get ready from where you were sitting, quietly impressed with his ability to get up and be functional despite surely being just as hungover—if not more—than you. He also seemed wholly unaffected by the conversation you’d had last night, which was something that you certainly couldn’t say for yourself. 

With sunglasses perched on your nose and the weight of your entire relationship placed on your shoulders, the two of you headed out into the city, walking on the same sidewalks that you’d practically carried Patrick down the previous night. 

“Last night was fun,” Patrick commented, making small talk with you as you began to head down the street. 

“Some parts,” you agreed, hoping that he’d recall you grunting as you lugged him down the street, rather than your shock when he told you that he still loved you. 

“I honestly don’t remember most of the night,” Patrick said with a chuckle that almost sounded a little forced. You couldn’t be sure if he was being honest or searching for a cop out for the things he’d told you before you went to sleep, but you weren’t sure that it really mattered.

“Unfortunately, I do,” you replied. 

“Oh no. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.”

“You were like, slightly above average in terms of being a pain. Nothing I’m not used to.” You figured that maybe you could banter your way out of this situation. Perhaps if you just pretended that everything was okay, things would magically become okay.

But that didn’t feel alright. In fact, it wasn’t alright. If you ever wanted to improve your relationship with Patrick, you had to stop beating around the bush with him. You were both adults. You’d been together for years, yet you felt like you wasted far too much time not being straightforward with your thoughts and feelings. If there was going to be a next time for the two of you, you wanted things to be different. 

“You did say something kinda interesting last night, though.” While it had been easy to talk up a big game in your head, you immediately regretted the words that came out of your mouth. Regardless, it was too late for you to back out. 

Patrick laughed nervously before asking, “what?”

“You just… you kinda told me you still have feelings for me, or whatever. I just think, maybe we should talk about it. Or at least talk about us.”

The man next to you paled at your words. Your regret for bringing the topic up immediately grew exponentially. 

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” Patrick said, though he was lying through his teeth and both of you knew it. You wanted to approach this topic with civility and an open mind, but his blatant lie was making that a rather difficult task.

“Are you kidding? We’ve been tip-toeing around it this entire trip.”

“We’re broken up. You called off our wedding. I don’t think it gets any more straightforward than that,” he dismissed with a gross simplification of the state of your relationship.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. And even if it was, all I said was that I didn't think I was ready to get married. You put the final nail in the coffin when you told me you fell out of love with me. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to interpret you not being in love with me anymore when you still act the way that you act with me.”

You could tell the direction this conversation was going, your discussion quickly veering into argument territory as Patrick began to invade your space as he always did when you argued. 

“And how exactly do I act with you?” he challenged, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were talking about.  

“Do you want me to give you a list or something?” you asked, his anger becoming contagious.

“Sure, why not,” he said drily. 

“Fine. Let’s start with the cuddling, then. Please enlighten me, do you know any exes who spoon regularly? I mean, I certainly don’t. I don’t even touch my friends like that. So I don’t know what that really makes us. Or maybe how jealous you got when you saw me with someone else. I really can’t think of any sort of platonic explanation for that, and trust me, I’ve tried. And while we’re at it, I guess I should mention those showers. I respect the hell out of your faith in the thickness of these hotel walls, but I actually can hear you moaning my name while you’re in there. I’m honestly a little flattered, but I’m mostly confused.”

“Like you’re not doing the same,” Patrick scoffed. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was masking his true feelings with hostility, and though you wanted to engage in an actual conversation with him, you weren’t sure you would be able to take the high road in this conversation.

“Sure, but I’m not the one in denial of what’s going on here!”

“I’m not in denial. Have you ever considered that maybe I want to move on?”

“Do you, though?” you asked, pausing on the sidewalk.

“Clearly, I do,” he stopped right along with you, now really getting in your face.

“Clearly,” you repeated with a laugh. “Maybe you should start acting like it.”

“Maybe you should stop clinging to the past.”

His piercing gaze was unwavering as he waited to read your reaction. You knew how he liked to play this game, looking for an indication of any sort of weakness from you. You refused to give him that, though his words cut deep. 

“Okay,” you said calmly, though you were very much not feeling calm on the inside. “Well, thanks for letting me know how you really feel. Or how you think you feel. I don’t really know anymore. And I don’t think you know either.”

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

If you had known that telling Patrick that he drunkenly confessed to loving you would’ve broken the already very delicate relationship the two of you had built back up, you never would’ve said anything at all. As it turned out, having some of Patrick was better than not having him at all.

The contempt he now felt for you had become so strong that he didn’t even seem to be able to look at you. He sat next to a different person on the bus to Prague, not even sparing you a glance. When you arrived at the hotel, he made it a point to ask for separate rooms—something the two of you hadn’t done the entirety of your trip. As your tour began, he seemed to make a strong effort to separate himself from you, standing in the back of your group when you were in the front and vice versa. 

Usually, even after your worst arguments, you’d been able to find the time to talk out your feelings, but now it seemed like Patrick couldn’t even find it in himself to give you that.

You wanted to be mad at Patrick too. You were mad at him. But you missed him more than you were angry with him, and you yearned to be with him, no matter how crazy his constant antics drove you. 

Part of you felt frustrated that your relationship had become so cyclical since your breakup. You weren’t sure you could handle another cycle of fighting to the point of real anger, then making up with your relationship still a little more strained than it was in the past. You just wanted Patrick. Why did things have to be any more complicated than that? 

You desperately clung on to any bits of hope that your relationship might persist, coming out of this argument altered, but still existing. You snuck peeks at Patrick while you toured a beautiful castle and tried to bite your tongue until you stopped thinking of how badly you wanted to grab him and joke about his home looking like that castle. You wondered if he wanted to put your initials on a lock and put it on a bridge as much as you did. You wished you could ask him if he missed the warm body in bed beside him the way you did. 

But every time you looked at him, he was pointedly not looking at you. As your group paused on the bridge to allow couples the time to make their own locks, Patrick didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You were sure that even if he did miss you in bed, or wherever else, he would never tell you about it. 

You didn’t want it to be over—but you couldn’t keep clinging to hope that it wasn’t. 

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND

Getting to view the breathtaking scenery of the Swiss Alps as you sat on a cable car had been a dream of yours for years. What wasn’t included in that dream was dodging the glare of your ex-fiancé as the two of you sat in silence on that very gondola. 

Unluckily for the two of you, you were stuck together for the afternoon. Private skiing lessons in the Swiss Alps sounded like a great, even romantic, idea while you were planning the trip, but it was far from romantic now. 

The two of you stood on opposite sides of your instructor, the tension between you so thick that in the midst of his safety spiel, he paused to ask if everything was okay between you. After a stilted reply of yes, your instructor looked at you both skeptically before carrying on. 

Seeing as Patrick was an athlete who spent his childhood school breaks in Aspen, he was pretty decent at skiing already. Far better than you, a novice who was moving a little bit like a giraffe standing on its feet for the first time. 

While it wasn’t your first time skiing—that had been on a family vacation you’d tagged along on with the Zweigs—you certainly were not experienced enough to be keeping up with Patrick, who had the experience and the ego to give even your instructor a run for his money. 

It was entertaining to watch him in his element, his competitive side coming out despite the fact there was no competition anywhere to be found. He was significantly faster than you wherever you went, and skied with a confidence that you doubted you would ever be able to exhibit. In the past, this behavior may have been slightly endearing to you, but right now, it was mostly a little annoying. 

You and your instructor stood above Patrick, watching him effortlessly glide down the mountain in front of you. If you weren’t so agitated, you might actually have been impressed. As if your instructor was actively reading your mind, he leaned over to say something to you. 

“I think he’s trying to impress you,” he said quietly, though the subject of your conversation was an entire slope away. 

You nearly choked on your own saliva at the observation. “No way.”

“What do you mean no way?” he laughed. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve seen it all. Couples, crushes, friends, coworkers. I know posturing when I see it.”

“Trust me, he could care less.”

He looked at you with a doubting squint.  “Why don’t we go down there and ask him?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed. The thought of asking Patrick anything after the interactions you’d had seemed absolutely ridiculous. At this point, you wouldn’t even ask him what time it was. 

“Sorry. Let me rephrase that. That was me telling you that it’s time for you to go down the slope.”

You looked downhill at where you needed to go, noting that it was far steeper than what you’d been practicing on leading up to this point. You had been looking for an excuse to stall going down it, but now that your instructor had said something about that, you couldn’t not go.

After taking a deep breath, you began to go down. Gaining a bit of speed, you also found yourself growing slightly more confident, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air press against your body. While you were enjoying your speed at first, it was quickly growing out of hand, and you began to panic as you realized just how fast you were going. Desperately trying to pull your skis into a V shape to slow down, you were horrified at the realization that you were far too late, and actively heading towards a cluster of trees. You didn’t know what to do other than to accept your fate, and everything had happened so fast anyway that you found yourself tumbling into a tree, a searing pain on your ankle and tailbone as you laid out on the rocky ground.

Everything felt like it was moving slowly and quickly at the same time. One second, you were alone in the snow, and the next, Patrick and your ski instructor were hovering over you, goggles on their foreheads as they looked at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” you were finally able to make out once the slight ringing in your ears had ceased. 

“Did you see how hard she crashed? Of course she isn’t fucking okay,” Patrick’s voice huffed, though slightly muffled from your helmet covering your ears.

“My ankle,” you said, as if that gave them enough context. You wondered if they could see the tears beginning to pool under your goggles. The pair looked at your limb, though with your snowsuit covering it, they really couldn’t see much. 

“Can you walk?” your instructor asked you. 

“I haven’t tried, but I’m gonna go with no.”

“We’re gonna have someone check you out. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon,” your ski instructor told you. You blinked a few times and mustered all the strength you could to nod. 

The longer you sat, the more you began to realize how badly everything hurt. From your head down to your surely swollen ankle, you weren’t feeling too hot. You closed your eyes, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Maybe a quick little nap was exactly what you needed to feel a little better.

“Hey, don’t do that. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, so you might have a concussion.”

“I don’t, I’m just tired,” you explained, though you didn’t know for a fact that it was true. In fact, with the pounding in your head, you more likely than not had a mild concussion. 

“Well, you kinda have to stay awake,” Patrick told you, though he surely knew it was easier said than done. You were surprised when you felt his gloved hand take yours and squeezed your hand softly. “Hey, why don’t you tell us a story?” he suggested, clearly just trying to keep you awake.

“Do you wanna hear the story about how he proposed to me?” you asked the instructor. You weren’t sure why that was the first thing to pop into your head, but it was a long enough story to keep you awake until help arrived. You wished your goggles were slightly less tinted, so you could at least see the scandalized expression Patrick was probably making. You loved when you made him react like that, since the roles were usually reversed. 

“Well, yeah. Of course,” your instructor responded with a hint of a laugh. “You guys are engaged?” he directed towards Patrick.

“This is our honeymoon,” you replied before Patrick had an opportunity to respond. You wished you could see the confused look that your instructor was surely making.

“So what happened?”

“When he proposed?” you asked to clarify. 

“...Sure.”

“Well, for a little context, Patrick here is a professional tennis player. He’s really good too. So given my athletic ability, as you got to see today, I never really played with him. Like, he would always ask me to just play a fun, quick little round and I would always tell him no. Mostly because I knew he would crush me. I did play a little bit back in the day, but I was nowhere near his level. I mostly preferred to be on the sideline while we dated. I mean, I came to every single one of his games. I’m pretty sure my office introduced remote work to us because of me, since I was traveling all the time to see him.

“Anyway, one day, after a day of buttering me up, and I mean, he was really laying it on thick. I don’t know how I didn’t think something was up,” you laughed as you recalled the day, how Patrick had scheduled a nail appointment for you, then wined and dined you during a very romantic midday picnic. “But he asked me to play a little bit of tennis with him. I think I just thought he spent the day buttering me up so that I would play tennis with him, not that I would agree to marry him, but I digress. 

“We get to the tennis court and Patrick’s nervous like I’ve never seen him. He was a little jittery all day, but this was a different beast. Looking back, I really don’t understand why. He should’ve known I was going to say yes. Anyway, we’re playing, and somehow I win, even though I’m extremely rusty and have absolutely awful form. Obviously I knew Patrick threw the match for me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna gloat at him. 

“So I’m doing my victory spiel and I walk over to his side of the court, where he’s digging in his bag. He’s so quiet, which should’ve been a sign that something was up, and I’m thinking he’s about to pull out more tennis balls and tell me we’re doing a rematch, so he can really crush me. Instead, he pulls out a box and gets down on one knee. He gives me a speech about how he didn’t care if he never won another game of tennis in his life, because as long as we were together, he was a winner. It was really sweet. Obviously I said yes.”

You finally looked over at Patrick, though you couldn’t perfectly read his expression through the darkened lens of your goggles. You wondered if he felt any of the same feelings that were currently simmering in your own chest. Though, you didn’t get to stew too long, as help arrived just as your story came to a close. 

You were taken to an infirmary and given a series of tests, some to see the state of your head and other to see how the rest of your body was doing. Surprisingly, you made it out without too much serious damage. Your ankle was sprained, but nothing that would make it take too long to heal. You had a concussion, which surprised you, given your ability to recall so many details earlier in the day, but it was a very mild one. At least you’d made it back into your hotel in one piece. 

You really just wanted to relax for the rest of the evening, and you had plans to do exactly that, when there was suddenly a soft rapping at your door. 

You got up, and with help from the crutches you were provided, you hobbled to the door and opened it. On the other side was Patrick, who you were both surprised and unsurprised to see. 

“Hey. I got your room number from the front desk,” Patrick told you. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Sure, but I’m probably going to sleep soon,” with some effort, you sidestepped the doorway to let him in.

“Do you need anything? Want anything?” he asked as he made himself at home in your room, evaluating what you already had. 

“I’m good, I think.”

“How’re you feeling? They wouldn’t let me see you at the infirmary.”

“I’ve been better,” you shrugged, sitting down on the foot of your bed to take some pressure off of your aching ankle. 

“I bet. Are you icing that?” he asked, gesturing to your most obvious injury. 

“I haven’t been able to make it out to the ice machine,” you confessed, though the doctor had suggested ice for the inflammation. 

“Let me go grab some for you,” he said before disappearing out into the hallway. Once he left, you laid back in bed, letting out a sigh of relief at how much better being flat felt. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being taken care of this way. It seemed like no matter how bad things got between the two of you, you would always care for one another in some capacity. You wondered what had gone through Patrick’s mind when he saw you hurt yourself. You wondered if that changed anything in the way he felt about you. 

He knocked on the door once more to tell you he was back, though the door was already unlocked. 

“If there’s anything else you need, I mean anything at all, just call me. I’m just down the hall from you,” he told you as he bagged up the ice he retrieved. 

He sat down on the foot of the bed, where you’d previously been sitting, and tenderly set the bag of ice on your ankle, clearly not wanting to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He looked at you a little sadly before standing back up, not wanting to linger in your presence too long. 

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he explained, already turning to head towards the door. 

“Thanks, Patrick,” you paused, looking for any other words you had for him. “Good night.”

“Night.”

SOMEWHERE IN ITALY

The next few days in Switzerland had been extremely boring. Due to doctor’s orders, you mainly stayed in bed, avoiding screens by reading books, and looking out the window to view the mountains that you were currently missing. 

Although you had to miss a lot of the fun your tour was going on, like a cheese and chocolate tour, you somehow still received an anonymous delivery of cheeses and chocolates—though, you were pretty sure you knew who was responsible for that. 

Patrick didn’t seem like he wanted to overstep any boundaries, which you respected, though you really could’ve used some company whose ear you could talk off. Hell, you’d even take another nasty argument over the resounding silence of your room. 

Luckily for you, by the time your group was traveling once again, you were starting to feel slightly better, concussion and ankle-wise. Though, your head was starting to hurt from listening to a person at the front of the bus go on about how much they needed the bus to pull over somewhere. 

After a period of incessant complaining from someone on your bus, the vehicle finally came to a stop at a small rest stop in the middle of the Italian countryside. 

Not willing to pass up an opportunity to stretch your legs, you got off at the stop, briefly stopping inside the building to look at what they had to offer before stepping behind the building, watching the wind blow through the overgrown weeds. 

Your attempt at enjoying the quiet, idyllic countryside was disturbed when you were joined by a smoking companion. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said. 

Before you could stop it, a sad smile appeared on your face. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your brief conversation in your hotel room, despite the mystery snack deliveries and the promise of coming if you called.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said plainly.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” you dismissed. 

“You’ve spent the last few days all alone in a room with a concussion.”

“It’s mild.”

“You fucked up your ankle.”

“It’s healing. It’s not all that bad.”

“Well, I’ve been worried anyway,” he passed you his partially smoked cigarette and you took a drag from it, though you were sure that was one of the things you shouldn’t be doing with a concussion. 

“Thanks, I guess.” you said. “So is this just a wellness check, or…?”

“No, well, yes. Obviously I was worried about you physically, but I also was wondering about how you were in general.”

It was strange to see him clumsily mince his words, given how bold he usually was.

“Oh? What changed between here and Germany?”

“What changed? What changed was that I watched you almost die.”

You laughed aloud at his over dramatization of the event. “Patrick, I did not almost die.”

“How would I have known that? I just saw you flying downhill out of control and crashing and it terrified me. I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to interpret his words, especially after the wild ride you’d been on throughout the trip. You weren’t sure you could handle another emotional bait and switch. 

“Pat, maybe we should talk about this later. The bus is probably taking off soon.”

“No,” he stopped you with a hand on your arm, calling you back with a desperation you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I don’t want to waste another second without you.”

“Okay,” you said, though you weren’t sure that you should buy into it yet. “Go ahead, then.”

“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you or don’t want to be with you,” he confessed, which genuinely took you by surprise. With the way he’d been dodging your attempts at building a connection, you certainly didn’t think he’d tell you something like that. 

“Then why have you been pretending?” you asked, hoping that your somewhat harsh words didn’t betray your genuine curiosity behind his behavior. 

“I don’t know,” he said. It was a terrible, unsatisfying answer. One that didn’t explain a single reason behind his behavior. “I guess I just can’t wrap my head around the idea that anyone would want to keep me around long-term.”

You looked at him with shock in your eyes, your mouth slightly agape at the confession. You couldn’t imagine Patrick, overconfident, bold, and self-assured, who you’d been dating for years, not feeling secure in your relationship–to the point where he’d been actively trying to push you away out of anticipating how you’d feel about him.

“When you told me you weren’t ready to be with me, it just confirmed everything I’d been worried about—that one day you would wake up next to me and realize that I wasn’t the guy you wanted. I guess it just happened sooner than I anticipated.”

You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “If you felt like that, then why’d you tell me you weren’t in love with me anymore?”

“I thought if you were gonna leave me anyway, I might as well beat you to the punch.”

You were giving it your all to keep it together at this point, feeling slightly vindicated to know that Patrick was lying about no longer loving you, but mostly devastated that your whole relationship had been uprooted over an assumption that Patrick had made about you. 

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you looked out into the grass, then back at Patrick. “I wish you’d stop assuming that you know what I want all the time.”

“Hey you two, last call for the coach,” your tour guide suddenly interrupted, looking very obviously annoyed that the two of you were holding the bus up. 

“Sorry. We’ll head back now,” you apologized to the guide. “We’ll continue this conversation later?” you directed towards Patrick. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

VENICE, ITALY

Putting a hold on your conversation probably wasn’t the wisest idea you’d ever had, considering that your next few days in Italy were set to be your busiest this far. 

Between gondola rides on different boats and exploring historic palaces, the two of you didn’t have much time to stop and have as serious of a talk as you wanted to have. Even if you did somehow manage to pick up where you’d left off, there were so many people around you that it didn’t even feel worth it. 

Luckily for you, your hotel had a private beach attached to it, and as you spent your evening by the beach, watching the sun go down, you were pleased to find that you were joined by familiar company. 

At first, Patrick didn’t say anything as he sat down on the same chair next to you. The two of you enjoyed the serene sunset and privacy that the beach afforded you in silence, though you were sure that things wouldn’t stay that way for long. 

“I love you, you know?” he finally piped up, breaking the silence with a very bold declaration. 

You looked at him calmly, though you weren’t feeling very calm on the inside. You’d been waiting to hear those words from him from the moment that the two of you broke up. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to it now, though the confession was better late than never. 

“I love you too. I never stopped,” you told him simply, as if the realization that you were stuck on him hadn’t been haunting you for months now.

“I never did, either. It was cruel of me to ever tell you that I did.”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if Patrick would ever understand the full extent of the damage his words had done to you. “It was, but I understand where you were coming from. If I had known that you didn’t think I was going to stick around, I would’ve gone about what I did differently,” you began to explain. “I think it came across as me not wanting to marry you at all. Of course I wanted to marry you. There was just so much else going on in my life then that the timing didn’t feel right.”

“But the timing might be right someday?” Patrick asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice. 

“The timing will be right someday. Maybe sooner than either of us know,” you shot him a wink, then broke into a grin as he pulled you into a firm, loving embrace. 

ATHENS, GREECE 

The rest of your time in Italy mainly consisted of making up for lost time, with the two of you partaking in far more PDA than what was ever necessary and thoroughly documenting your time abroad together as a couple. 

Thanks to your injury, you were slightly slower than the rest of your group. But that certainly didn’t stop Patrick from lagging along with you, letting you lean on him for support when you needed it and pausing to sit and take breaks with you whenever you noticed that walking was taking too much of a toll on you.

It was nice to be back with him, to not have to feel stupid for feeling what you felt or feel the pressure of knowing that you should probably be trying to move on. The only unfortunate part was how little time the two of you had left on vacation, with you heading home after spending a few days in Athens. If only the two of you had been upfront about your feelings earlier, then you could’ve been having as great of a time as you were having now during your entire trip. 

The two of you briefly floated the idea of having somewhat of a shotgun wedding, but scrapped it after realizing that you would prefer to have your family and friends there to celebrate with you. After all, many of them had been on the emotional rollercoaster that was your relationship right along with you. 

For the time being, the two of you were perfectly content with being together, and knowing that neither of you had any intentions of leaving. 

Somehow, that made your last few days of vacation feel infinitely better. 

ATHENS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

You scrolled endlessly on your phone, sending out a few messages to friends and family to let them know that you were heading back home. While you typically felt a few nerves before boarding a plane anywhere, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of excitement, both at the thought of being able to go back home and sleep in your own bed, and at the potential your newly reformed relationship had. 

Your scrolling was interrupted by Patrick’s presence, carrying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in his hands with a slightly goofy look on his face. 

“Sorry for taking so long. I think everyone and their mother wanted coffee today,” he explained as he sat down, passing you your items as he got comfortable next to you. 

“No worries. I’m just glad you were running late to grab us breakfast, instead of trying to switch our seats like last time.”

The two of you shared a laugh before Patrick said, “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It basically was,” you dismissed. 

Once it was announced that your group was boarding, the two of you stood up quickly, attempting to gather your bearings before getting on the plane. 

“‘Till next time, Europe,” you bid the country goodbye as the two of you made your way to the line. 

“Should we come back to Europe? I was thinking our next honeymoon should be somewhere else. Maybe Bali.”

“Oooh, Bali sounds nice. I think anywhere warm and with a beach is good,” you explained, though you really didn’t care where you went, as long as Patrick was there by your side.

[lathalea]

The Arrival

Yes, my beloved readers, it's time for another Thorin fic from yours truly!

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader/OC (pick one) Rating: G Warnings: none Author's notes: Thorin and his Company have reclaimed Erebor and started rebuilding their kingdom. Everything seems fine except for the fact that the King Under The Mountain is eagerly awaiting the arrival of someone very dear to him... Also, I want to apologise to Peter Jackson for stealing some lines from An Unexpected Journey and J.R.R. Tolkien for appropriating and rephrasing one sentence from The Lord of The Rings.  I'm a hopeless romantic, what can I say? You can find this fic on AO3. For @legolasbadass 💙💙💙

Khuzdul: Iglishmêk - dwarven sign language Kurdelê - my heart Lukhdelê - my light of all lights

The King Under the Mountain, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the second of his name, also known as Thorin Oakenshield, the king of Durin’s folk, was not a patient Dwarf—and yet he waited. He had been standing on the main terrace above the Great Gate of Erebor since the moment when the first rays of the morning sun gilded the distant peaks of the Iron Hills. His eyes, however, were turned towards the west, where the jagged tops of the Misty Mountains grazed against the pink sky. As he took a deep breath, fresh spring air filled his lungs. It was his—and his people’s—first spring in Erebor since it was reclaimed. The winter after the Battle of Five Armies passed in a blink of an eye. The kingdom was being rebuilt and prepared for the returning Dwarves, food stores had to be replenished, new trade agreements had to be signed… but among all those duties, something else kept Thorin awake until late on many a night. His memories.

The memory of a pair of hands gently resting on his shoulders as he sat behind his desk, and the sweet timbre of the voice that went with it, “Come, Kurdelê, it is time we reposed for the night, those reports can wait until the morning.”

The memory of those soft, sweet lips pressing innocently against his cheek and murmuring something scandalously indecent into his ear.

The memory of how her body felt in his lap, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his, her silver laughter as she pretended to scold his rash behaviour, so unbecoming of a king.

The memory of her bare skin in candlelight.

But there were other memories, too. Their lengthy late-night conversations about anything and everything. Their secret escapades to the market, or to an inn, dressed as common folk, pretending to be a couple of travelling merchants. Their wanderings through the Blue Mountains in search of the best view of the sea in the west (his choice) and the most beautiful flower glades (her choice). 

During the lengthy council meetings he had to hold almost daily in Erebor, he would recall how much her presence changed the dynamics of similar gatherings back in the Blue Mountains. Her reasoning was swift, and her no-nonsense approach to the matters of state made even the most ancient council members nod in approval. Even now, he would—out of habit—turn to his right, wishing to discuss a matter with her or ask for her insight. But she was not there, and so he would give out a dissatisfied grunt and return to the matter at hand. 

He knew that the only thing he had to do was wait, and he abhorred it. But there was nothing to be done. No sane person would risk crossing the Misty Mountains in the middle of winter. Now, however, the spring came into its own right. And he sent his best men to the High Pass to oversee the approach of the first dwarven caravan from Eriador. It was supposed to bring the first group of his people returning home, merchants, masters of craft, their families and belongings… and her. The whole Erebor was waiting for the arrival of their kin—the symbol of a new beginning for the Mountain and its dwellers. Many eyes turned to the west, counting the days, making wagers, discussing the route the waggons must have taken, and the current road conditions. It seemed that in those days, only one topic existed: the caravan.

But Thorin could only think of her lovely hand in his.  Of her kindred touch.

As soon as a raven brought word from the caravan, reporting that they have succesfully crossed the mountains, he could not stop himself from looking to the west, and hoping. 

This was the fifth day he spent on the terrace, waiting for any signs of the caravan’s approach.

On the first day, Gloin waited with him in hopes of seeing his wife and son, but was called away due to some issue in the treasure chamber. Thorin stayed, cursing the enchanted forest (and its haughty king, for good measure) for daring to obscure his view. Sadly, neither the forest nor its king moved out of the way.

On the second day, Dwalin asked Thorin whether he was growing mawkish in his dotage, staring at the edge of Mirkwood like a lovesick whelp—a question he had to take back on the training grounds. 

On the third day, Dori asked whether Thorin would rather wait inside, on account of that nasty rain, and drink some warm tea with honey. No, said Thorin, he would not. And that envoy from the Iron Hills could join him there, on the terrace, by the way.

On the fourth day, Nori, Bifur and Bofur kept Thorin company, amusing him—and themselves in equal measure—with the latest gossip straight from the taverns of Erebor (all two of them, for now). He had no idea that several hundreds of dwarves, mostly newcomers from the Iron Hills and the White Mountains, could wreak such havoc. And marry so swiftly and in such numbers. Spring was truly in the air.

Now, on the fifth day, he stood alone, and waited. Roac was circling the Long Lake below, giving out a single caw from time to time, “Still nothing.”

And then, a hunting horn rang out in the air. Thorin knew its sound all too well.

“Balin!” he exclaimed to his friend who sat in the hall beyond the terrace. “Sound the alarm!”

The elderly dwarf raised his head from above a piece of parchment, slightly puzzled.

“Call out the guard,” Thorin insisted, feeling his impatience take the better of him. “Do it now! 

“What is it?” Balin rose from his seat, his scroll forgotten.

“The caravan!” Thorin gestured excitedly—perhaps a tad too excitedly for a Dwarf of his stature—towards Mirkwood, where a long line of waggons started emerging from the forest. “They will be here soon!”

She will be here soon. 

Over a year passed since the last time he held her in his arms, since he braided the silky dark waves of her hair, and since he looked into the brilliant, wise eyes of the woman he loved. To him, it felt like an eternity, and in that very moment, as he hurried down the stairs that led towards the Great Gate, he made a solemn promise to himself.

When the caravan arrived, most of the Dwarves were already gathered outside of the mountain. The guards held their heads high, presenting their weapons in an honorary salute, not leaving their posts, but even they cast curious glances at the newly arrived, trying to find familiar faces in the crowd. Thorin smirked at his thoughts. They looked as impatient as their king.

He knew the protocol of such meetings like the back of his hand, requiring him to stand by the gate, look regally, and welcome the newcomers to their new—old—home. His resolve wavered, however, when he saw a familiar figure clad in a green, fur-lined gown getting down a waggon, helped by one of the guardsmen. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Without thinking, he took a step forward, and then stopped, recalling who he was and what he was expected to do. He was also not allowed to leave his post, just like his guards. Instead, he observed from a distance, admiring the way the waves of her hair fell down her shoulders as she looked around, perhaps slightly disoriented, taking in the surroundings. Thorin saw the exact moments when her gaze rested on the mossy stone shaped by his ancestors into statues of warrior kings. Then her gaze moved down, focusing on the green marble of the Great Gate. Her eyes widened, her lips formed an “O” and then moved, she spoke something, but her words were lost in all the commotion. In that very moment, she reminded him of that bright-eyed maiden he had met for the first time in a mountain meadow half a world away; the maiden who laughed at his abysmal jokes, who fit so well in his arms when they danced, and who accepted his awkward courting efforts. The time that passed between then and now did not take away her ability to wonder and enjoy the world around her. She endured so many hardships on the way from the Blue Mountains to Erebor, so many cold nights on the road, faced so many dangers, and yet she never wavered in her decision to leave the Blue Mountains behind to be with him and their people. Now, she was finally here and, at last, he felt complete. Being able to see his own kingdom—their kingdom—through her eyes, and to see how amazed she was at the view, was a reward on its own. 

Thorin could not stop himself from smiling when her eyes finally met his. 

“Welcome home, my…” he began signing in iglishmêk, in that discreet way they often did on official occasions when the eyes of many would rest on them.

A light flush bloomed on her cheeks, she responded with a smile, and began walking towards him, oblivious of her escort and the joyous crowd around her, forgetting about the protocol, moving faster and faster, a giggle escaping her lips, her braids danced in the wind, her cloak flowed behind her, and…

“Thorin!” she called him in that melodious voice of hers, and there were diamonds in her eyes, or perhaps it was only his vision that suddenly turned very blurry, and he opened her arms, and thought “the Abyss take the protocol!”, and he rushed towards her, ignoring Balin clearing his throat in embarrassment, because she was finally here, and he had waited long enough—and they finally met halfway.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt her pressing into him, and there was laughter, and more tears in their eyes, the diamonds of happiness, those most precious among gems, and he was finally able to finish that sentence.

“Welcome home, my wife,” he rasped out, pressing his forehead against her, breathing in her familiar flowery scent, the one he adored so much. This was her, finally her, in his arms, and only she mattered in this very moment, not the crowd cheering around them, witnessing this moment of tenderness between their ruling couple, not even his kingdom, nor the world around them—now, it was only her.

“I missed you, my love,” she murmured, holding tight onto him, as if she wanted to make sure he would not disappear, and a wave of warmth washed over him. “I can’t believe I’m finally here, with you, after all those months…”

“Neither can I,” he agreed, cupping her cheek tenderly and eliciting a small sigh from her. “It was much too long, Lukhdelê.”

“Aye, it was,” she nodded, her eyes searching his face, as if learning it anew.

“I made a promise to myself,” Thorin continued. “Never again.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head in that alluring way of hers, and he had to suppress the improper urge to kiss her passionately in front of his people.

“Never again shall we part for so long. I crave you by my side, my heart,” he stated, bringing her hand to his lips.

“Then I will be looking forward to you upholding the promise,” she graced him with a teasing smile that made his blood run faster. “We have been apart indeed for too long, and so were our people. I believe it is time for us to work on improving their morale, would you not agree, my king?”

“Your wish is my command, my queen,” he agreed and took her in his arms again, and then their lips met. Sweetness intermingled with warmth, tenderness fueled the fire inside them, and he cared not that they stood in front of the gate in the sight of many.

After all, who cares about protocol when you have to properly welcome your wife home?

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[swiftholic-13]

The Season's Scandal Chapter 5

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Y/N is making a rather unsuspected choice and things between her and Eloise become more serious.

warnings → mild smut

words → 2.6k

masterpost chapter 4 chapter 6

One thing Victor, my brother or even my mother forgot to mention was whose ball it was. The Bridgertons were throwing a ball, celebrating their newly engaged son Colin and his fiancée Penelope Featherington. Going there under the current circumstances felt strange, but maybe this was a good thing. I knew their house pretty well by now. I could most probably hide and escape my mother.

As much as I hated my mother, her fashion sense was immaculate. She choose a gracious gown in a soft lavender. It had darker flowers at the bottom, creating a color gradient. The puffy lilac sleeves also had small flowers highlighting its color. I especially liked the glitter and the way it looked while I was moving. I had my hair put up and thanked the servant who dressed me. My mother was arguing with my brother downstairs. I could hear them shouting and and the loud footsteps of my brother rushing away. When I came down the stairs my mother would not even look at me “We have to leave, we are already late”, she simply stated and rushed out the door, not waiting for me. When we got into the carriage, she finally acknowledged me. She looked me up and down with a judging expression. “smile” she simply demanded “keep your back straight”. I did not keep any attention on her and instead looked out of the window. My brother not accompanying me on the ball might be a blessing, I would only have to deal with my mother. “These Bridgertons have quite a decent amount of money, what about their sons?” she asked me, I just rolled my eyes and kept on staring outside, watching the trees in the darkness surrounding them. She slapped my knee with her fan “I am talking to you!” she hissed. I looked at her in agony. I took a deep breath in and tried to focus on Eloise and finally getting out of this carriage.

Luckily, we arrived soon after. I got out of the carriage and realized that most of the guests have already arrived. My brother not being here would grant me less attention. Walking through the gate I noticed Victor waiting for me. He held his arm out for me to take and I gladly took it before my mother would protest. I could care about her later. He walked me inside the glorious ballroom. Many flowers decorated the huge ballroom. My mother was hanging behind pretty far and I leaned over to Victor “I need at least two dances tonight, my mother needs to think you are courting me” he nodded with a smile “Of course my lady” I slapped his arm lightly as he wandered off to get us some lemonade. I kept looking around for Eloise but could not spot her as always. Before my mother returned, Violet Bridgerton approached me “Y/N such as pleasure to see you, we have been missing you these last days” she said and immediately made me smile. She already cared more about me, then my actual mother ever could. “It is a truly tremendous ball you are hosting Lady Bridgerton” I replied. I could feel my mothers presence approaching us from behind “You must be Lady Y/L/N” Violet stated as my mother appeared close from behind me. “Lady Bridgerton” she bowed her head. The music began to start and I rushed away “I have a dance with Lord Abery” I managed to get out before fleeing from my mother’s gaze. Victor and I met on the dancefloor and started dancing. “she truly is a monster, my condolences” he said while looking at her watching us from afar. I nodded “ If it would not be for you, she would never let me leave the house”. When he turned me around I caught Eloise´s eye for a second. She was standing at the lemonades table talking to her brother Benedict. Her eyes were fixated on me in a sad look. I wanted nothing more than to sprint over to her and wrap my arms around her, I have not seen her in far too long.

After our dance my mother snatched me away and took a look into my dancecard “why is it not filled with names yet?” Before I could say another thing the Earl of Ashton approached me and took it into his own manners and wrote his name down for one dance. His smirk was disgusting and the way my mother smiled at him almost made me gag. He barley had any hair left and his beard was scruffy. My eyes were searching for Eloise and I could spot her again. Her piercing blue eyes were staring right into my soul. I completely ignored everything around me, only she mattered. While my mother talked to the Earl, Victor approached me for our next dance, earlier than expected but right at the perfect time to steal me away from the Earl. He lead me to the dancefloor. My eyes were still glued on Eloise. “Have you spoken to her yet?” he asked as our dance began. Our movements stopped me from holding eye contact. “no” I simply replied “I could not write letters” he nodded understandingly. We stayed silent for a bit. “your mother is not leaving you alone, is she?” I shook my head. I looked up at his eyes and took a deep breath in, but before I could speak he raised his voice again. “What if I did court you?” I was surprised at his forwardness. I looked to the floor. I did not want to marry a man, ever. But recently my mother has shown me that there is only one way and I kept losing hope of avoiding the path she wanted for me. It killed me inside. But If I really had to marry, It would be Victor. He would allow me to be myself and with Eloise, he was also a great friend and I would have every freedom in the world. To the world, we would appear as a married couple, but in truth, we were merely friends, each free to live our own separate lives. I could be happy, perhaps happier than I was now. I looked up at him again, took a deep breath in and nodded “yes” I said. The dance was over and the pairs were leaving the dance floor. I just stood there and looked at him “thank you” I whispered and pulled my hand back that I was not realizing was still in his. I turned around to leave as my eye caught Eloise again. Her eyes glassy and she immediately turned to rush away. I tried to go after her as fast as possible but lost her too soon in the crowd.

As I disappeared into the crowd I could not care less about my mother. My thoughts only belonged to Eloise. She was hurt, because of me, it broke my heart. I had to find her. I went outside, thinking she might have disappeared into the gardens. Arriving at the gate I found her brother, the viscount. “Viscount Bridgerton” I said standing close behind him. He turned around and bowed his head “Lady Y/N Y/L/N” “I am searching for your sister” I immediately said. She was my priority, she has been since we first met. “Eloise?” he asked with a surprised expression. I nodded “It is important” I stated, growing impatient. He shrugged his shoulders “I do not know of her whereabouts, I apologize, but she hates these balls, so it comes with no surprise” he said and a small smile appeared on my lips. “thank you” I said while nodding my head and leaving him behind. I could feel his eyes on my back, hopefully he had no suspicion.

If she did not go outside she could only be in her room. I rushed up the stairs and looked around, finding out if anybody was following me or saw me up here. Luckily, I was alone. I sneaked towards her room and took a deep breath as I reached towards the doorknob. I entered and already heard her sobbing, my heart broke at the sound. She sat on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. “please leave” she demanded in her broken voice. I did not listen and approached her. I got down on my knees and sat in front of her, reaching after her hands and wanting to see her face. “Eloise, I am so sorry I-” She removed her hands from her face and looked me straight in the eyes. “Will you marry him?” she asked, interrupting me. “What?” She stood up and her rather sad expression changed to one of betrayal and anger. She wiped her tears away and started pacing through the room. “You disappear for a week” she started and I could make out the anger in her voice. “I thought it was because of your idiot brother but maybe I was wrong” “El you were not-” “I see you again and your dancing with Lord Abery two times, I see the way you look at each other and you cannot tell me he is not courting you.” I sighed and looked up at her “I assure you, it is not what it appears to be” “not what it appears to be? You promised me not to do this”. I finally stood up and walked over to her “Eloise I do not have a choice, this is not what I desire either” “you always possess a choice” her voice broke again and her emotions overwhelmed her. “Believe me, I am doing this for our sake” “our sake? Or your sake?” she hissed. I understood her anger at me. She clearly did not understand the situation but explaining it to her right now would probably not change things. She turned away from me, trying to calm her breathing. I myself felt the arrival of tears and I knew it was only a matter of moments before they would roll down my cheeks. We stood there in uncomfortable silence. I did not want to fight with her, maybe it was best to leave. I took a deep breath in and walked towards the door.

Right as I reached for the doorknob I heard her voice behind me. “Please do not marry him” it sounded vulnerable and not angry anymore. I felt the hot tears running down my cheeks and I turned around looking directly into her eyes. “El” she came closer to me with slow steps and repeated “Do not marry him” this time more of a whisper as she was standing right in front of me with only mere inches between us. I could feel her breath on my lips and smelled her divine scent. I nodded. “Alright” was the only thing leaving my lips as she stood close in front of me. Her presence was captivating. My eyes wandered from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. She leaned in and her lips met mine. It felt like time stood still. I have been dreaming of this moment for weeks. Her lips moved against mine with longing and passion. My hand found its way into her hair pulling her closer. She applied light pressure and the way her lips moved against mine felt magical. Her body pressed firmly against mine and my back hit the door. Her hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer to her. We broke apart as we had to catch our breaths. Her face was still close to mine and our breaths mingled. Her eyes searched mine as I leaned my forehead against hers. My hands moved from her hair to her cheeks. She leaned into my touch and closed her eyes. I pulled her closer again and our lips collided in yet another passionate kiss. Our tongues met in a sensual embrace. We both explored each other with hunger born of the months of longing and tension. She took control and slid her tongue into my mouth. A soft moan escaped my lips, while she devoured me. I tried to loosen the strings of her dress. We parted again to catch our breaths. I felt her lips at my jaw as she slowly moved down my neck. She stopped at my collarbone as she sucked on my skin. I bit my lip and leaned my head back in pleasure. As soon as I closed my eyes her lips lost contact. She pulled me back from the door and spun me around to open my dress from the back. Her lips returned to my neck and I leaned back against her. As my dress slipped down my shoulders she wrapped her arms around me from behind and continued her work. I spun around in her arms capturing her lips on mine again. I opened her hair and it softly fell loose. I admired the way it draped so perfectly over her shoulders. She did the same to my hair as I was busy kissing her. We parted and I finally got rid of her dress and opened her corset. She released a long breath as it fell down on the floor. She turned around to face me. A huge smile was on her face and her eyes were barely red anymore, showing no sign of her crying a few minutes ago.

I still did not realize what was happening at the moment. She opened up my corset and let it fall to the floor as well. She brought me closer again and led me to her bed. She pushed me on it and crawled on top of me. I pulled her close to me, nor wanting to lose conract. I was a bit cold and as she spotted my goosebumps she pulled the blanket over us. She looked me deep in the eyes “are you certain?” she whispered. I nodded and connected our lips in another soft kiss as response. She shifted her weight on me and one of her legs was now between mine. Her arms were on either side of my head. Her body was pressed against mine and I enjoyed our closeness. We got rid of the last undergarments, which were keeping us from one another. She kissed me as her hands roomed over my body. I felt her hands moving up my legs to my inner thighs and I gasped at the contact. She slid her tongue inside my mouth as her hand wandered upwards. I moaned as the sensation became too overwhelming and I had no control left over my senses. Feeling her skin on mine was something completely unimaginable. Her hand shifted higher and higher as her other hand was resting on my chest. I breathed heavily as she touched me. I leaned my head back and moaned in pleasure. Her fingers slid inside of me. The feeling was unimaginable. My hands found her way to her back, holding onto it with force. As she started moving them inside of me my nails digged into her back and I could not keep my moans silent any longer. She looked at my face and her lips found her way to my neck and and she sucked on my pulse point. I pulled her head closer as I tangled my fingers in her hair. I clenched around her and her movements sped up. Her fingers curled inside of me. She moved up back to my face and watched me closely as I moaned out her name. she smiled and leaned down to place kisses along my jaw. That was all I needed to come over the edge. She looked at me in satisfaction as I was moaning underneath her. She rolled over and was now laying next to me. Both our heavy breathing was the only sound thay could be heard in the room. She looked over at me smiling. I turned my head to catch her gaze. She smiled at me and gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear "you look beautiful" I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, not getting enough of her taste. She could not stop smiling and I felt her legs intertwining with mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled herself closer to give me another kiss. My arms found its way around her waist as she nuzzled her head into my neck and closed her eyes. My left hand found its way into her hair, stroking it. She soon drifted off to sleep. I could not imagine this truly happening. I took in her smell. Her body resting this close to mine provided a great warmth and maybe for the first time in forever, security.

First of all I am so sorry for the long wait, but I promise the next chapters will come soon. Also a huge thank you for all the likes, comments and reposts! I truly appreciate it <3 also we need to talk about these new episodes, there's too much happening

also I think a taglist would be good at this point so let me know If you want to be added

[ddoxhan]

that summer

draw me in your world, as you let yourself into mine let me be your safe haven, for I love when you shine

word count : 4.8k words

genre : fluff with a tinge of angst; your typical summer love story but haerin does not feel the same way you do for her?; runner! haerin x literature student! fem!reader; you are an overthinker and sometimes just wish you stop thinking

t/w : none :)

a/n : this is the longest i've ever written for a oneshot and honestly, i didn't want to split it up cause i wanted yall to feel the whole thing at one go. enjoy !

"haerin-ah, wait up!"

"you're just slow! we're gonna be late if we don't hurry!"

you swore you needed to wake up earlier to avoid having to rush to school, especially when haerin waits for you every day to walk together. at this point, the two of you had been running to class for three days in a row now, not walk. to your surprise, the girl has never complained or grumbled about how you would make her almost miss the bell. but then again, she's always been like that. haerin was never someone who wouid let out her anger on you or anyone in general. you've never seen her get angry, concluding that she just doesn't know how to.

the said girl turned her head around while not faltering in her rushed steps, making sure you're keeping up with her speed. but the thing is, she's the school's top runner and you barely pass your required tests for physical education. haerin knows, which was why she opted to drag you along by your hand. the sudden grab left you slightly taken aback. well, slight is an understatement, you were very taken aback. especially when you have the most obvious crush on her.

you've always had a crush on haerin ever since you were 12. it just happened so when she saved you from some bullies, aka silly boys, running away from them as you two rest at the neighbourhood playground after. she sat you on the swing while you cried in both fear and relief. but all the fear washed away when she flashed you a smile that you never forgot till this day. the way her eyes curved up and her snaggletooth showed with that big smile of hers, that's when you fell for her.

as you busied yourself in your own world, you once again arrived at the school gate right before they closed it off, with some students sighing at how they missed it by a split second behind it. a slow realization hit that you've ran to your limit, you tried taking deep breaths but it might have made it worse. sometimes you wished you were more athletic, for these kind of situations, and also to spend more time with haerin if you were in the track and field team.

"hey, try breathing with both your nose and mouth, it can help."

the girl in front of you looks unfazed, as if she just went for a relaxing morning jog. which isn't entirely wrong as you don't live too far from school. you stand up straight again, doing what she told you to. it actually did help but as she glanced at her watch, you understood what it meant.

"go on, don't be late for class because of me."

"it's fine, there's still some time. I'll go with you."

although you were very sure classes starts in 3 minutes, you didn't argue further as it just meant you get to spend more time although it's just minutes. when the two of you were put into different classes, the time spent together reduced drastically plus haerin's training after class on some days. it was just lunch and maybe weekends if she didn't have extra training. but you felt bad for wanting her to spend her only free day with you, so you try to refrain from jumping onto her bed during some weekends.

why is it so hard to just spend some time with her?

lunch came. and that meant you get to see haerin again after the last time before classes started. at this point, you were just too infatuated with her that you were experiencing some sort of separation anxiety that you can't seem to quite explain. there's nothing you can do about it, you were just that in love with her.

but you did not guess for her to walk along to the cafeteria with him. him who? him, woonhak, the heartthrob who happens to be almost as good as haerin in the track and field team. everyone who sees them walking down the corridor would literally stop to look at how good they look together. it's to the point that they gush over the possible relationship they should have.

you were one of the people who'd look too, but you were always left slightly upset and heartbroken whenever you heard such comments. for sure, woonhak didn't do anything other than walk with her because he likes to ask and learn from haerin when it comes to running. there was no one to blame for your feelings except yourself. and at times, you just wished you could just like someone else cause the pain gets unbearable.

"hey froggie! how was class?"

it might sound like you're being selfish, but you wished haerin only ever smiles at you like that. that smile, the very same one you fell for and also the one that makes your heart clench a little. not to mention the nickname, it makes you feel as if she sees you nothing more than just a friend.

"the same. mr park is giving out work, again. I'm not surprised anyways."

"how about you?"

you swore you saw how her eyes sparkled a little when she started telling you about hers. but you don't feel that much good inside after.

"oh! you know woonhak right? him and I got chosen to be interviewed for a promotional video for the school."

"oh, him..."

"sorry, did you say something?"

"ah, yeah I know him."

"yup him, we agreed to meet on sunday to prepare ahead of the interview. I'm sorry if you wanted to come over."

"no don't be, it's fine. I can just work on mr park's project on sunday."

"but still, it feels weird that I won't be around."

"oh come on, it's literally just a few hours! and before you know it, you'll be back and I can come over if you want."

"this is why you're my best friend, I can always count on you."

well, that hurt a lot. you didn't know if it was intentional or just coincidental as she manages to throw your urge to confess out of the window every time it surfaces. all you could hope was that she didn't take notice of your feelings, or else you swear you'd never be able to face her again. the very last thing you need is for this friendship with her to shatter to the ground like glass. but you knew, the moment you fell for her, you were already walking on thin ice.

"what do they have for lunch today?"

"kimchi fried rice, today has your favourite strawberry milk."

picking up yours, you shaked it to tempt her to quickly go get hers and come have her food with you. and so she did.

whenever it came to her favourite food, she always looks like a cute little kitten who's hungry all the time. and when she spots them, she'd rush to get it and sit with you with an adorable smile plastered on her face as she eats or drinks away. you wish you were able to be someone who makes her that happy too, but along with those thoughts were the heavy consequences of your confession.

whatever you two have built throughout these many years will just shatter like glass, into fragile pieces that will not be able to be pieced together again. even if it could be pieced together again, nothing can stay the same.

for now, you'll keep it to yourself. nothing has shifted between you and haerin, so you shouldn't too.

you have no idea what the hell you're doing right now. what kind of situation is this, you don't know.

"you told me we were gonna work on that project. as far as I know, this is not part of the project."

"I know, but just, we'll work on it after. for now, I just need you to accompany me."

"bro, this feels so illegal to be spying on someone."

"I'm just making sure that boy isn't doing anything to haerin."

"you know they're like the most shipped couple in school right? and woonhak's a really nice person."

"you never know."

all dani could do was roll her eyes at how dumb you look, she looks, with this so called disguise that barely covered their identity. she told you the shades were not it when it's practically indoors, and how it literally makes them stand out even more. at times like this, she questions herself why she's friends with you, and why she's willing to be in this with you. overall you were a great person, just not when you get too overprotective of the girl you love.

"if you're just gonna snoop around, you might as well just confess."

the moment you heard the word 'confess', the coffee you were drinking through your mouth came out through your nose. dani didn't know whether to laugh or help you wipe the table cause that was the reenactment of that 'the incredibles' meme of violet. maybe this was why she was friends with you.

"w-what do you mean?"

"you're too obvious to not notice each and every time you zoom out of class to have lunch with haerin. and zoom out again when the bell rings so you can head over to the gym hall to watch her practice."

"bro why didn't you tell me?!"

"tell you what? that you're like an idiot in love but the person you love doesn't seem to feel the same way?"

"I am not an idiot! but I definitely am in love..."

the mood suddenly shifted to somewhat gloomy as those words left your mouth. admitting that you had feelings for haerin to someone else for the first time didn't feel much extravagant than you thought. it wasn't that what you felt wasn't real or overwhelming, they very much were. but the thought of her not reciprocating them, broke you a little on the inside.

you've always imagined being by her side throughout university till the day you'd grow old and get a small house in the countryside. if it were the best friend context, things would have been fine. but you want to be there for her as someone she loves, too. as cheesy as it sounds, just the two of you against the world and no one can stop you.

reality begged to differ when you see how happy she is now as she picks up some clothes from the racks in a store. with woonhak smiling down at her. you couldn't deny that they look good together, way to good that it was believable if haerin told you they started dating after this date. the more you saw the two of them together, the more it was harder to imagine you being the one who would be making her happy.

although you've known her for so long, you weren't one to express your feelings through words. 'actions speak louder than words' was the motto you've lived with all this time. but this love thing takes more than that. being a literature student did not help with that vast range of vocabulary cause there was no point of preparing a confession. it has to come from the heart, and that's what makes it so hard.

"..."

"they left by the way."

your head whipped to the direction of the store they were in, and the last spot you saw them at was indeed empty.

"let's go then! you better saw where they are heading."

not even allowing dani to finish her chocolate drink, you dragged her along to chase after the two. they were definitely fast, very fitting to be in the track and field team. and dani did not sign up for this.

in the end, dani had to drag you out of that mall before you ended up actually stalking those two poor souls. you were definitely not pleased with that decision but you two had a project to attend to, so you placed whatever that's disturbing to the back of your head. although it was sort of futile.

"well, at least we got half of this done, sorta."

"we can meet again tomorrow after school to finish it up if you want."

the australian squinted her eyes at you, as if trying to question your intention. she had the right to after what you pulled off today.

"for real, this time. I kinda want to get this over with and watch haerin practice."

"you better keep your promise."

giving a salute, all dani could do was chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood with your antics. how can she not love someone like you when all you do was make everyone around you smile?

"hey, do you think it's possible that haerin would have feelings for me? even the slightest bit?"

"I don't see why not. you're a nice kid."

"the definition of nice is different for everyone, and so it is for me."

the older took a seat next to you on the bed, putting down her books on your study desk. when the topic about your feelings for haerin surface each time, you can't help but let your real self seep out a little, the happy-go-lucky facade faltering.

"you know, you don't have to be nice to be liked by anyone."

"but that doesn't mean I can be bad either."

"you know I don't mean it that way. it's just that, whether the person is nice or not, if you like them, you just do."

"that's true..."

it was feeling a little weird to talk about this with someone, but you were glad that it was dani. she was like an older sister figure that you could rely on whenever you needed her.

"you love haerin. and do you love her because she's nice? or because it's her?"

as you registered her words in your brain, you couldn't help but feel hopeful all over again, even after seeing those two at the mall today. maybe, they really are just friends. maybe, haerin does like you a little. maybe, you should confess.

you were so lost in your own thoughts that you couldn't feel the presence next to you, slowly clasping your hands. dani looked at you really endearingly, as if you were the person she cherished the most in the world.

"whatever you do, I'd be here to support, okay?"

giving her a reassuring nod and grin, dani's heart swelled at how your mood was lifted again. all she wants to see was you smile, regardless of who's behind it.

"FROGGIE!"

the shout from across your bedroom door grabbed your attention as your eyes darted towards it. as it swung open, the very person you two were talking about barged through to throw you into a hug. along with dani cause haerin knows her too.

"unnie! what are you doing here? the project?"

"hmm, we were just tidying up cause it's getting late."

the older slipped out from the embrace to finish packing her stuff to leave those two to their own world. maybe one day, she'd be able to find someone she loves too.

"bye unnie!"

"dani, I'll let you know what time tomorrow."

"yup sure, just ping me when you're done."

as dani left when she saw your thumbs up, you're tackled into another hug. you were wondering why she was being extra clingy after that date with woonhak. did woonhak confess to her? was she being shy about it? is she gonna tell you something? you were overthinking a lot of things and it wasn't a good sign cause that just means you're going to start doubting every single action haerin takes.

"I missed you."

you wish you would just disintegrate into dust at this very moment. everything that has happened today had already put your brain and feelings into overdrive. and for her to say this, made your heart feel heavier than ever. you didn't know why, it just didn't feel all that good although you did miss her too. but the words just can't seem to fall from your lips.

all you could do was look away and nod. because if you were to look at her, you think you are going to cry and confuse her even further.

"I should go shower first, it's been a long day."

"then we can cuddle!"

haerin slipped away from the embrace into your bathroom. with her belongings scattered around your room, it makes you feel even dizzier from all these crashing feelings. it's as if you are itching to confess to her or else you'd combust for real. that was why you could only keep your mouth shut, or everything would be over.

for now again, you try your best to act normal in front of her. for your own sake, for her sake, and to keep this friendship the way it has been this whole time.

everything went on like normal. you and dani wrapped up that damn project mr park gave, having lunch with haerin every day, spending your time watching her practice, hanging out every weekend. but as haerin's competition was approaching, she spends more time at the gym hall, even during weekends at times. you can't blame her when she's the top in her team.

this competition was utmost important for her as many big companies scout at this particular one. meaning that if she does well, she may have a chance of signing with one. but that means that she would have to move to the city if that does happen.

you were afraid to lose her. sure, you two would still be friends even if she was miles away. so that's exactly what you're afraid of, staying friends. you knew you had no guts to confess to her anytime soon. if haerin leaves, you will still be here. you can't imagine how it will be without her, because you've spent your entire life with her by your side.

even today, you're in your room as haerin is training more as days are left till the competition. divided between confessing or not, you wrote down all the things you want to get for her on your laptop. the tomato frog that she loves so much, a printed sweater with a cat, a couple bracelet that she had her eye on last month. you remembered everything like you knew the back of your hand. it wasn't intentional, but you just did. not to mention that you had quite bad memory that you took a week to remember your seatmate's name.

you were going to do it. you were going to confess. it took you years to finally make that decision and you want it to be perfect. what did it mean by perfect, you don't know. it was your first time, but you just wanted it to be from the bottom of your heart. regardless of whether haerin would reciprocate the feelings, you came to an agreement with yourself that it was fine if she didn't. she was going to move away when she wins that competition so it would just mean that you two stay friends. friends who are apart from each other.

although it may take time to heal, it was going to be fine. not everything in life can go smoothly, and you were willing to take the risk. it was unfair for both you and her. you couldn't pretend any longer that you saw her as a friend, when the way you treat her is definitely more than one. and she deserves to know what you feel for her, with no secrets kept between the two of you.

D-10.

"WOONHAK! GOOD LUCK!"

"YOU'RE GONNA DO GREAT BRO!"

"HAERIN-AH! SLAY IT!"

"HWAITING!"

screams and shouts from both sides of your ears were definitely gonna leave them ringing for some time. of course you weren't going to miss haerin's big day. you were beyond proud that she made it to the finals after beating her opponents in the semifinals. quarters were a piece of cake since she was a whole second ahead of everyone.

it was no doubt when she held the fastest record for 100m among the schools here. the agents definitely had their eyes on her the entire time, it just depends on who she chooses.

you didn't really like going out for events like these but she was an exception. although you weren't screaming your lungs out for her, you caressed that ring on your finger very dearly. the ring haerin got you when you two got into the same high school, calling it "the lucky ring". whenever there were big happenings, you'd wear it, feeling that she was with you through them. this time, you wore it so she could feel that you were with her.

"ON YOUR MARK."

the determination on haerin's face didn't go unnoticed even if you were nowhere close to the tracks. and when she flashed that smile at you before the whistle went off, you cried softly into your hands.

you love her so much. so much that this was going to be the last time you two were going to be friends. friends who grew up together, playing with puddles at the playground. finding restaurants to visit together. laughing at stupid videos in bed. taking pictures and videos of each other when one is sleeping. all those days were going to be a memory. a sweet memory for you to look back at after this day.

reporters swarmed the winner of the competition, blocking the pathway for the others who could only sigh at their defeat. some were lucky with outstanding performance.

"could you tell us what's your future plans after this?"

"will you be signing with Krux? we saw their agent approach you personally."

"is it possible to know who kim woonhak is to you?"

"i'm sorry everyone but haerin will be heading off first, any questions will be answered by me."

the coach pushed haerin into the locker room before locking everyone outside with him. she let out the breath even she didn't know she was holding.

"so, who is kim woonhak to you?"

the noise was starting to die down outside as the reporters were led to a different room for interview. the silence was growing deafening as those words echoed across the empty room.

"you're my friend."

"damn, I really didn't have a chance, did I?"

"you know that very well. plus, there's a whole line waiting to date you so why waste your time on me?"

haerin couldn't bother, as she had something better to do and someone better to be with.

"sunbae, you do know I don't like you anymore right? not after you turned down my confession the other day."

"I was just making sure. I've seen too many of you playboys in action."

"oh come on, I'm not a playboy!"

woonhak was someone who was very responsive to teases, and haerin takes every chance she gets to tease the hell out of him. if anything, he was like a brother to her and she was like a sister to him. in fact, both of them decided to sign with the same company since they were offered. it was always good to have someone on your side in the sports world.

"I know, I was just messing with you. now get out, coach probably needs you."

"why me when the winner is right here chilling?"

"because you're gonna answer on my behalf."

the scene that was unfolding could easily be misunderstood if walked in at the wrong timing. and someone did just that. but what haerin didn't expect was that you walked in on them, seemingly laughing and smacking each other, like a couple. well, it did look like that to you at least.

you felt like you were interrupting something, so you dashed out of there as quick as you could. your eyes were stinging as the humid wind cut through your tears that were threatening to fall. although haerin was deemed the winner today, you were zooming past people faster than she could, as if in denial that you lost even before getting a chance to tell her.

it was getting more and more suffocating as the people around you were overwhelming. although you could breathe better when you reached the tracks, taking in the view of the vast field, it was too much that you had to hit your chest to let out some suppressed cries.

just as you felt slightly better, you felt a pair of arms swinging across your sides from behind, trapping you with them. you didn't even need to see who it is, as their scent invaded your senses, carrying familiarity with it.

"haerin-ah, congratulations! I'm so proud of you."

you turned around to bring her into a hug, but also hiding the fact you were crying because things were to change today.

"thank you, I wouldn't have done it without you."

"no, don't say that. you.. did it because you trained very hard for this. and you'll be achieving your dreams."

"you did do something for me, you were there for me. I saw you at the bleachers and that made me more determined to win."

"why are you crying, froggie? don't cry, we'll still see each other."

haerin cupped your face with her hands to wipe the tears off of your face. but that just hit the nail on the coffin, meaning that she would sign and leave for the city. which was now or never.

"haerin-ah."

"hmm?"

the endearing look in her face as she looks at you was more than enough to let you know she would be here for you no matter what. even as just a friend. although it was starting to rain, you knew you had to do it now. the words were getting stuck in your throat as it started to get dry. but, you were going to do it still.

"I love you."

"huh?"

the confusion on her face hurt you more than it should. you should know that she does not feel the same way you did for her. you should know that she was probably already dating woonhak after what you saw earlier. you should know-

"I love you too."

it was the first time you have ever seen that smile on her face. a grin so wide, it's like she's the happiest girl in the world. the most crescent eyes you've seen on her, as if she's staring at the girl she loves.

wait. she said she loves you too.

the sunshower was drenching the two of you but you couldn't give a damn about it. she said she loves you. she reciprocated your feelings. but you were having a very hard time trying to wrap your head around it.

"I love you too, you silly."

her laughter tickled your ears as you stood there frozen. your dumb reaction had her swaying you around with her in the rain as the sun was blinding through the droplets. just as she stopped to look at you again, you still had that bewildered face.

"I thought you were dating woonhak..."

"me? and that idiot? babe, you gotta be kidding me."

the sudden endearment had your cheeks flare up as you bury your head in her shoulder, in attempt to cover your face. but your ears were shooting bright red too, earning an earthy laughter from haerin, you could feel it through the embrace.

"so that means we're dating right?"

she looked at you with a shocked face before peppering kisses all over your cheeks.

"yes, of course froggie. unless you wanna get married."

the attempt at humor cracked both of you up, but you knew that was something you see happening in the future. but for now, everything was perfect. you were perfect, and haerin's urge to kiss you was too strong at that moment.

"can I kiss you?"

all you could do was nod and as her lips touched yours, that's when things were sinking in for you. your hands slowly draped over her neck as you pulled her closer to feel the longing for her warmth grow stronger. the sunshower painted over you and her, but you couldn't care less about what's around you when the most important person is in front of you. it was true that today was the last day you two were friends, but blossomed into a new beginning as each other's love.

as you pulled back to breathe, you two had your eyes closed, foreheads touching. although no words were exchanged, you knew, many more summers were to be spent with the love of your life.

it was the summer rain, the summer rain when haerin fell for you as you held her hand and ran in the rain back home.

that summer you fell for her too.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Bedeviled | FINAL- Chapter 15a: alea iacta est

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, horror

WC for PART 1: 13.6k

This is a two part chapter guys, dont miss 15b, it will be linked at the end of this chapter.

Warnings for this part: ⚠️this chapter contains intense, heavy & possibly triggering material, pls read at your own discretion⚠️ strong language, blood, torture, grief, mentions of death, brief mention of past murder, strong religious themes throughout, mentions of witchcraft, implied human sacrifice, summoning of and dealing with demons, ANGST, physical violence, guilt, heavy heavy stuff u guys b careful, if there's anything I missed pls kindly let me know.

ML Previous

“Guardian angel…what’s happened?”

The look in her eyes was gentle even though the worry was clear. 

“I will tell you soon, I promise. Trust in me that now is not the time.”

A slender hand gestured towards the giant golden gates, a reminder of what was to come. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, an understanding and comfort sweeping through you that the time would arrive to know everything. You looked up at the shining entrance and noticed beautiful gems lining the golden bars in every color imaginable. 

It was stunning. 

Your angel reached out a hand and ever so gently touched the sleek bars; sending a shudder through the entirety of the gate that simultaneously went through you, deep into your bones. 

You didn’t notice you were holding your breath until the gate opened and there was a soft yet steady hand on your shoulder.

Taking a tentative step forward, you gulped as the cloud beneath you kept you from plummeting through it.

A few more steps and you were almost inside. 

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath that filled your lungs. As it blew out slowly, you could feel any and every worry leaving with it as the sound of a celestial choir arose and an overwhelming feeling of love consumed you.

Then you stepped through the gates. 

-

The grip on your upper arms is harsh as you’re dragged carelessly down the last few steps. The sound of tortured screams echo around you, bouncing off the walls and shaking you to the core. 

Then the smell hits you.

A smell so vile you would never be able to put it into words if someone asked. It turns your stomach to rot within seconds, but it’s too late to hold your breath now. 

I’m okay. 

You shake uncontrollably as the demons proceed to half carry you down a long hall, the sound of their footsteps drowned out by the screams of the sinners whose fate you are soon about to share in. 

At least it isn’t him.

You gulp and close your eyes despite it already being pitch black; the action only a desperate attempt to conjure some form of comfort. 

You flinch when the loud clank of metal reaches your ears. 

It sounds like someone is unlocking a very large padlock. 

Then an ear piercing squeak follows when what you can only assume is a cell door is opened.

You’re brought into the cell and immediately thrown to the ground harshly, a pained gasp knocked out of you when you hit the stone floor. 

There’s a puddle of something wet and warm under your hands and the stench of urine instantly fills your nostrils. You don’t even have a moment to register the disgust before you’re being grabbed roughly again and yanked to the middle of the room. 

The unmistakable sound of jangling chains fills your ears and you bite your bottom lip. Your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness due to the sliver of blood red light seeping in through a crack near the upper right corner behind you. 

You can just barely make out what is probably Sav in front of you, but more of that comes from the energy you feel and less the sight of him. 

A deep chuckle sounding directly ahead confirms it as your arms are yanked up so violently that you inadvertently cry out. The demons only continue to laugh as one on each side of you shackles your wrists to the rusted cuffs hanging from the ceiling. 

You realize with horror only seconds before it happens that the chains are a certain height, designed like everything else here; to wring the most torture they can out of you. 

A broken scream gets stuck in your throat when the demons let go of you and your body weight is forced down by gravity, pulling at your shoulders harshly. Only a bit of pressure is taken off by your feet holding you up just enough on tiptoe. You know that eventually your shoulders will not be able to handle it, when you are no longer strong enough to stand. They will inevitably be pulled out of place.

Breathing in and out slowly in shaky gasps, you don’t even try to fight as your ankles are shackled as well, even though you won’t be going anywhere with even just the wrists bound in iron. 

The sound of another set of chains makes you close your eyes. 

Flinching harshly, you bite your lip when you feel your wings squeezed painfully by cold metal restraints of their own.

Fear clenches your heart as you wait with bated breath. 

“Leave us.”

Heavy footfalls go to the cell door, the loud creak sounds, then the footsteps diminish into the torture being dealt elsewhere in the dungeon. 

You say nothing, feeling his stare on you while you keep your eyes closed. 

“I’m going to ask questions and you are going to answer, do you understand?”

He’s met with silence, but chooses to ignore that and begins anyway. 

“Why are you here?” 

When you don’t answer, he steps forward and growls.

“Do you want me to fucking hurt you right now, you little bitch? Answer me.”

You open your eyes and stare at the dark floor, but say nothing. 

“Answer me or when the time comes I’ll hurt him more than I need to.”

A beat of silence passes.

“I came to get something,” you grit out, tears stinging your eyes.

Sav chuckles in disbelief. 

“How strange you are, little puppet. You say nothing when your own precious body is on the line, but when it comes to a random demon you found in Hell, you will give it all up.”

You sigh shakily, knowing that he can do whatever he wants to you and still get you to talk when he threatens to hurt a certain fellow demon of his.

“Oh this is going to be fun.”

His heeled boots clunk against the floor as he begins to pace, smirking at your defeated posture. 

“What did you come to get?”

You gulp, noticing how dry your throat is. 

“Something I’ve waited a long time for.”

“The Flame of Immortality?”

You’re not sure how he found out that little made-up story, but you don’t ask. 

He sighs through his nose in annoyance at your silence. 

“Why should an angel need the Flame? You’re already immortal. Besides, don’t you holy creatures frown at the use of it?”

“I didn’t tell you I needed it,” you whisper. 

“A little birdie told me you did.”

“Maybe you should stop taking information from random little birdies-”

A harsh slap lands across your cheek and you instantly taste blood as your head hangs to the side and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to try and control the urge to make a sound. 

You don’t want to give him that satisfaction. 

“You’re going to regret not taking my offer to let you speak and delay your punishment.”

He grabs your face, pinching your cheeks tightly and making you look at him. 

Oddly enough, you can see his blue eyes in the dim light, his hair falling into them.

“If pain is what you want, rest assured that is what I will give you.”

You glare back at him in response, earning another slap to your other cheek. 

Sav steps back and observes you. 

“You look a little too confident as an angel at the hands of demons that are only too willing to hurt her.”

You just stare at him, hands chained above your head and shoulders aching terribly. 

“Your smug silence will only cause you more agony.”

He gets no response. 

The demon turns and walks to a corner of the cell, a dark alcove where you can not see what is inside. 

“Fine by me, little angel.”

You expect him to emerge with something, so you’re taken by surprise when he only comes back out, empty handed, to lean against the wall. 

“Undidis.” His voice rings out in the dim light.

Then the iron cell door opens and the large lizard-like demon that grabbed you in the hall stalks in, a grotesque smile spread across his toothy snout.

You don’t have a moment to think before he hits you across the face so hard that your vision spins violently and a headache blossoms. A few of your teeth feel like they were loosened by the impact. You breathe out a pained groan. 

The demon hits you in the stomach, then kicks your right shin harshly out from under you, undoubtedly leaving a mark that will bruise if he didn’t fracture it outright. 

The weight of your beaten body pulls down on your shoulders and you cry out. 

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Undidis steps away and sneers, “Look at her. She’s like a little doll we get to ruin all we want.”

Sav chuckles at his words. 

“And she can stop it any time she would like. Are you ready to stop, angel?”

You gulp, cringing at the metallic taste in your mouth, then you shake your head slowly. 

He scoffs and goes back to the alcove, disappearing into the darkness. 

____. 

Tears form in your eyes at the sound of her voice in your mind. 

Angel…I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you…I’m sorry I failed.

Sav steps out and you see something long and thin hanging from his hand. 

____, you have not failed. Do not let them make you believe otherwise.

“Still feeling brave?” Sav mocks, running the whip between his fingers repeatedly, his eyes moving over your form hungrily; ready to draw screams from you with each crack of it. 

You are sure you want to do this? Only say the word and it will stop. 

You pull your gaze away from Sav and up to the ceiling of the cell. Up to where you might be able to imagine all of them if you think hard enough. 

The words that leave your mouth are sure to send him into a fit, but it doesn’t stop you from saying them.

“I’m okay, Guardian Angel.”

Sav’s face falls, then it twists in anger as he steps closer to you, “We’ll just see where that bravery gets you.”

You can see the hatred in his eyes before he walks behind you and is out of your line of sight. 

You shut your eyes only moments before the whip makes contact with your back and rips the first scream from your lungs. 

________________________

“Find your own way out of Hell.”

The look of terror and disbelief in your eyes did nothing to stop him from turning; from leaving you alone and never looking back.

-

JK keeps his eyes forward as he stalks across the empty planes between the eighth and ninth circles of Hell, his jaw taut with barely contained rage. 

He has no intention of going back to you, or even turning around to see if perhaps his eyes betrayed him in a moment of insanity. 

Of all the things he theorized about you in his head, you being one of those sorry pawns from His pathetic army was never even close to being one…

When the golden light bouncing off the vibrant green leaves flashes through his brain again, the demon shakes his head and keeps walking. 

You must have poisoned his thoughts in some way- with all your nasty little angel abilities to put images in minds. That must have been part of your plan the entire time: to confuse him, to disorient him enough so that you could do whatever the hell it was you were here to do in the first place. 

The silent anger continues to build inside, leaving no room to wonder or even care about where you might be. 

_________________

The broken scream from the last lash of the whip leaves your throat raw as you gasp in a breath. You had held them in as much as you could, but the pain after the first fifteen lashes was too much. You had no idea how many more he had done since.

Sav runs his fingers down the length of the thin instrument, dragging the blood off of it to drip onto the floor in red splatters. 

“Why him?” He asks lowly, voice deep with impatience. 

Your shaky breaths echo off the stone walls. 

Sav grabs your chin with rough fingers, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, the smirk on his face growing at the way you squeeze your eyes shut with pain, the blood from his fingers smearing onto your skin. 

“Why…” He leans close, his cold breath fanning your wet cheeks, “...him?”

You swallow thickly before whispering, unable to keep the strength in your voice no matter how hard you try, “I only asked him to lead me becau-”

A shaky breath gets caught in your throat and you cough a little. 

“-because he was the first one I ran into.”

The grip on your face tightens for a second before the demon shoves you away and takes a step back to observe his prisoner. 

“Do not make the mistake of feeling secure in telling me the truth. It will not spare you any pain.”

You open your eyes and look at him. 

“I know.”

His jaw clenches, then a smirk slowly spreads on his face again. 

“How unlucky for you that he was merely a pawn in your little game. If there was more to tell on JK, I might have decided to prolong the fun in order to wring more out of you.”

His words neither lessen nor heighten your anxiety. You know he is going to torture you without restraint, you have known since the moment you were grabbed in the tunnel while trying to get away. He does not need any more information from you; that is not why you are in this dungeon under the Chamber of Souls. You are merely here for their twisted sport. 

Finding an angel in the middle of Hell is a prize beyond the count of worth. 

Without turning, Sav drops the whip on the floor and points at the alcove. 

The demon, Undidis, that has been standing silent to the side for the entirety of the whipping instantly walks that way and disappears into the darkness. 

The sound of metal clanging around from where he went reaches your ears, but you do not move your gaze from Sav’s. 

“The monarch butterfly on your arm,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “Why is it colored?”

He snorts, “Why would I feel the need to divulge any information about myself to you? You are already at my feet, you are already mine to break.”

“Do you not know?”

His gaze hardens as he stares at you with a raw hatred after seeing the unwavering look in your gaze. 

The look in his own eyes confirms what you already know: that he will not give you a moment of relief once he begins.

There is no reason for either of them to hold back. 

You take a steadying breath and close your eyes slowly.

-

Stepping through the gates, your eyes landed immediately on your aunt. 

Yoongi’s mother, who died many years ago. 

Her skin seemed to radiate a very subtle glow as she smiled at you warmly. There were no wings on her back and she was clothed in a soft white tunic that fell to her ankles. She looked young and healthy, her eyes resembling Yoongi’s almost exactly. 

You smiled back, then your gaze shifted to see the man stepping out from behind her who wasn’t an angel either.

It was your father. 

You had never met him, but there was something inside of you that just knew. For some odd reason you also knew what had happened to him, why he left one day before you were even born and never came back. 

You thought maybe he had been sick like you or just abandoned you and mother. It never occurred to you that he was killed on the road and never found. Your heart hurt terribly at this revelation.

His lips…they looked like yours. Your hair color was the same too. He also looked somewhat like Yoongi’s mother, the shared genes were clear. 

You briefly remembered the days leading up to your death, when you hallucinated a man in the corner of the shack, staring at you. You had thought it was your father, but it wasn’t, he didn’t look like this man. This man’s eyes were kind, his touch comforting as he gave you a quick hug and whispered how happy he was to finally meet you. 

You hugged him back tightly, a breath stuck in your throat, your mind still in a state of disbelief. 

He pulled away then and stepped back, no longer obscuring your view of the beings behind him.

Many many people and angels, some laughing and talking, others smiling and waving at you excitedly. 

You didn’t recognize any of them, but they seemed to know you. 

They seemed to have known you for a long time. 

Realization hit you then, that every single person and angel there, had been waiting for you. 

The air itself was alive with relief and genuine unconditional love. 

These souls that you did not know, were overjoyed at your arrival. 

They were proud of you. 

Tears filled your eyes, only a few escaping and falling down your cheeks. 

Then you saw her. 

The little angel with yellow wings, that had taken your hand and led you to the clouds after you passed. 

She was standing in front of another angel that looked no older than fourteen. The young teen had long red hair and wings the color of soil. A bright smile graced her pink lips.

The small yellow angel that you had not recognized when first waking in that shack, had tears in her eyes as she looked at you. Those bunny teeth appeared when she smiled even while the tears fell down her supple cheeks.

“The little ones that pass in the womb become angels.”

She looked just like him.

“Aera?”

The name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. 

Not another moment passed before you were kneeling and the child was running into your open arms, soon engulfed in your embrace. 

Her tiny arms wrapped around you and she held on tightly. 

You couldn’t help the tears that wracked your body as you kept her close, finally feeling that warmth you always dreamt of. 

“I love you,” you whispered the words you always wanted to say between sobs, “I love you so much, I missed you so much.”

Her hug only tightened and she whispered back with that tiny soft voice you could only ever imagine in those long long months, “I missed you too, mommy. I love you.”

You continued to cry on her small shoulder until your tears were utterly spent and you could finally breathe in fully without breaking into another round of weeping. 

Only then did you open your eyes and see someone behind her; your gaze traveling from their sandaled feet, up their long beige tunic, and into gentle brown eyes flecked with gold.

Only then did you first look upon the face of the one you never knew you had missed.

-

Your whole body is quivering uncontrollably, blood drips down your arms and legs, and your shoulders only continue to weaken as the strain on them increases with each new torment they bring upon you. 

“Not the face.”

Sav’s deep voice breaks through the fog of pain clouding your mind. 

Undidis grunts in annoyance but steps back anyway, the bloody knife gripped in his scaly fist tightly as he resists the urge to mutilate the only part of you that has been left more or less unscathed. 

You can faintly hear both of them laughing as they walk around you, behaving like two humans that have stumbled across a most intriguing statue in the museum. 

No words pass your lips, only the labored breathing that occasionally becomes so quiet that if they didn’t know any better they’d have thought you suffocated from the lack of oxygen getting to your lungs. 

“Such a precious little face, angel. I can’t bring myself to cut it up just yet,” Sav muses with mock pity. 

At your lack of response, you get a kick to the same right shin Undidis had struck earlier. 

All you give for that is a weak moan. 

Sav steps towards you and leans down, his voice becoming soft, “This is only the beginning. You can change your fate, all you have to do is one simple thing.”

The fog in your brain covers most of your thoughts in an attempt to pretend like you are anywhere but here. 

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Do nothing and we get to play with you for the rest of eternity. Who needs Him anyway? If you give in to us, the pain He has let be inflicted upon you will lessen.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words and you lift your head only enough to look him in the eye. 

“And when my memories are no longer my own,” you mumble quietly, “When I can no longer understand why it hurts…what will happen to me then?”

Sav straightens up, his mouth twisting in rage. 

“Will I become like you?” You whisper hoarsely, never looking away from him. 

A harsh slap from the back of his hand causes your head to jerk to the side and blood to spray from your mouth and onto the floor, to continue to stain the ancient stone with the life of its current victim.

“You dare to look down on me while I stand above you?” He seethes, “You refuse to acknowledge who is in control?”

“You are not in control.” Is all you say, eyes lifting to the ceiling briefly. 

“Is that so?”

A choked gasp gets stuck in your throat when you feel jagged metal sink deep into your abdomen. 

Sav pulls the knife back out and lifts it into your view as you gulp and try to control the shivering from sheer pain alone.

Your blood drips down the length of the crooked blade, only inches from your face.

“I think we’ve just run out of time for you. That little face of yours has only begun to anger me.” 

Your gaze drifts from the crimson knife and over to his dark blue eyes. 

“Your story saddens me, Sav. But it is not you I grieve for.”

There’s a flash of fear deep in his gaze, but it’s quickly clouded once more with hatred. 

“You may know things I do not, angel, but I can assure you of this,” he looms over you, only too ready to ruin you beyond recognition, “If you do not deny Him, if you do not lower yourself more than you already are and bow to me; I will rid you of any physical indication of your title. I will tear you limb from limb and you will feel every single second of it.”

A smile spreads on your cracked lips, bright red blood oozing from your mouth. 

“Lower yourself to me.” Despite his words, his voice shakes slightly.

The grin on your face does not fade, even as Undidis emerges from the shadows with the next instrument of torture that will leave you in agony beyond comprehension. 

You keep your eyes locked on Sav. 

“No.”

____________________________________

“Look, Savanis!”

The twenty-year old boy looked up from where he was digging and reached a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. He pushed the dirty blonde hair out of his suntanned face so he could see the little girl a few feet to his left. 

“What is it, Marjorie?”

The child frowned at his tone, but quickly brushed it off and pointed at the little flower only inches from her where a beautiful orange and black butterfly sat. 

“Isn’t it pretty?” She whispered, leaning in. Long blonde locks fell over her tiny shoulders, the curled ends brushing against the dirt, “I think it’s the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

Savanis rolled his eyes and turned back to the digging that was taking longer than he liked. It wasn’t supposed to be one of the jobs that consumed his entire day. And for this he would only get enough for half a loaf of bread at the market. 

The shovel struck the hot dirt viciously, tearing into it and wrenching it from the earth.

-

“Savi.”

He rolled his eyes at the hundredth interruption that evening alone. 

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” He raised his voice, slamming down the small piece of wood he had been carving mindlessly, the sound echoing off the wooden walls of their tiny home. 

Tears welled up in the six year old’s big bluebell eyes and he sighed sharply. 

“It isn’t my fault the king treats us like scum, Marjorie! What would you have me do? Beg at his feet to let us feast with the royal court? Don’t be so naive. If you’re so hungry then go out and find a way to get us food. Just because mother and father died and left you to burden me doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself useful for once.”

With that, he stood and grabbed the crookedly carved wood, then stormed out of the house, leaving his little sister to self-soothe in her torn blanket, holding her worn out doll friend close to her chest. 

-

It wasn’t even a month’s passing since that night that Savanis stumbled upon the old witch that lived in the woods, the one he had only previously heard tales of. 

She was odd enough to deserve the rumors said about her, but she by no means looked to him like she could actually cast magic spells and curse those that betrayed her. 

Despite all that, she made decent company when he was out and about in the woods for whatever work he was doing. 

The witch spoke of her many encounters with spirits; the good and the evil. 

Savanis found himself increasingly drawn to the dark ones she told him of. They seemed more likely to obtain what they desired and he didn’t shy away from the means in which they helped this particular old hag acquire hers. 

He began to actively look for work that focused solely on his going into the woods. Those stories began to seem more and more real, and certainly the ways in which the witch lived her life seemed a lot more enjoyable than where he was stuck. 

Savanis was determined to change the course of his future, to live his life how he wanted, not to have anyone relying so heavily on him for mere survival. 

The time he spent in those woods grew longer and not for the work he was doing halfheartedly by then. For what he was doing, he might never need to work again. 

The old witch taught him spells, ways that he could get what he wanted without working all day for it. Ways to read into others’ futures so that they might pay him in exchange for that delicate knowledge. Perhaps, he thought, he could embellish a little here and there as the witch suggested, and so he did. She was right that people would pay more the more you’re willing to divulge, even if only some of it was true. 

-

Marjorie would wait for her brother each night, worrying herself sick while lying in her blankets on the floor of their one room cabin. She would force her little eyes to stay open until she saw him coming into the door quietly and setting his things underneath the floorboards where he thought she couldn’t get them. Then the child would finally be able to sleep. 

His items never interested her. One time she was curious and looked in the hiding spot, but only found feathers and vials of strange liquid that smelled funny. When she saw the small blade covered in something red, she hurriedly put the floorboard back over it and never again peeked.

Most of her days were spent outside in her garden. 

It wasn’t much of a real garden, but she had lovingly replanted flowers and other strange plants she did not know the name of that she found in the forest. 

The bees, dragonflies, and butterflies would swarm her little collection of sweet-smelling flowers, which was one of the reasons she loved it the most. 

Marjorie would sit there for hours, simply watching the butterflies flutter to and fro as she nibbled on her bread. She’d offered them some once but they were not interested, so she kept it for herself. 

Savi didn’t snap at her so much anymore and he started to bring home more food. She didn’t ask him what he was doing all day and he didn’t offer any details. 

-

Savanis wiped the already dirty rag down the length of his smaller hunting knife as the witch, Tanta he knew her as now, continued to stir the pot above the fire. 

When he was finally able to clear most of the crimson smears from the blade, he knelt down and tossed the bloody rag into the fire, his gaze drawn to the strange green hue that illuminated the flames briefly before they faded back to a reddish orange. 

“You remembered,” Tanta seemed pleased as she sprinkled something flaky into the pot. 

He nodded then sat back to watch her work. 

“I’m better than you ever acknowledge.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why don’t you teach me more? Everything I know is practically useless to me now.”

“I thought all you wanted was a comfortable life,” she mused, not looking in his direction but clearly sporting a knowing grin, “Is that not what I’ve given you? You have food, clothes, and no need for work.”

Savanis sighed loudly, “What good is magic if it doesn’t give you more than the ordinary?”

“What good indeed,” Tanta muttered quietly. 

They sat in silence for a little longer, then he heard her speak again. 

“I have urged you to do things you have not done.”

He frowned, unsure what she meant for a moment, then it hit him. 

“Ah, you mean the rituals?”

“Indeed.”

“So if I worship him more, I’ll be able to do more?”

The only response he got to that was a silent smile. 

“I’m not sure I believe it is the thing,” Savanis continued, “Did you not say I was the one capable of magic because of who I am? Not because of some demon king?”

“On your own, you are no more special than that kid sister of yours.”

He bit his tongue at that, irritated. 

“She couldn’t handle any of it,” he spat bitterly, glaring at the flames that appeared to have turned bluish, “She’s weak and useless.”

“And that may be so,” Tanta let go of the ladle and turned to him, “But if you want to unlock your true potential, you must give all of yourself to his work.”

“And that means worshiping him every day?”

“The more genuine you become with it, the more you will not drag your feet about it.”

Savanis chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating. 

What did he have to lose?

-

Tanta was right. 

The more frequently he did the special rituals to the Leader, as she called him, the more he desired to do them. 

A lot of times he’d have to fight the stupid little voice whispering over his shoulder not to do it, saying that he could stop and it wasn’t too late to change. There were days the voice gave him pause.

Tanta told him never to listen to that voice though, that it was a spirit that claimed to be good but only wished for him to lack in anything he desired. Only wished for him to be a puppet and never live for himself.

So he continued to push it out of his head, and continued to make a point to do worse just out of spite. 

The darkness that took root in him was continuing to grow, and he welcomed it openly. 

Never before this was there much to his bland life. 

-

“You are almost to the highest rank I’ve been told.”

Savanis smirked at the witch that sat on a tree stump in front of him, knitting a dark cloth. It had only been a few months since she first began teaching him and he was already on his way to the top. 

“Envious?” He asked, arms crossed and brow raised in arrogance. 

She simply smiled at the work in her hands, “I have no reason to envy you child, I have been at the top for many years. I would say delighted is a more fit word to use. After all, you are my pupil.”

“And you are his pupil.”

“Precisely.”

“When do I get to do the final ritual?”

“When he decides you are ready.”

“How will I know?”

Her knowing smile returned. 

“You will know.”

-

Marjorie woke up with a start to see her big brother gathering his things. It was still dark, so she didn’t understand where he might be going. She watched silently from her makeshift bed as he put on his dark cloak and left without a sound.

-

Savanis lit the fire and stepped back, then tossed the bundle of herbs into it and watched the flames snap and crackle. 

He had a dream earlier in the night, a sign he took that it was finally time for him to reach his full potential. The man in the dream told him to come to the spot he was in and do the summoning. 

It only took a few moments before the air turned cold and he sensed a presence behind him. He turned and saw a tall handsome man dressed in dark clothes fit for a royal. On his back were large black wings that were at rest. 

He smirked at Savanis, who suddenly had a strange feeling that something might not be right. 

“At last we meet.”

Savanis swallowed, then spoke up, “You are him, then? The Leader.”

“Lucifer.”

“Lucifer,” Savanis tried out the name, a nasty taste following it in his mouth, but it did nothing to deter him. 

“Have you finally come to give your soul to me?” Lucifer asked, eyes locked on the boy in front of him. 

“Have you finally decided I’m worth it?”

A dark chuckle floated from the demon. 

“You have never been worth it, boy. You are as useless to me as the twig you stand on.”

Savanis’ mouth twisted in anger. 

“Then why are you here?”

“You asked me here.”

Savanis scoffed and looked away, feeling utterly humiliated and more than a little angered.

The demon took a step closer, “Do you wish to feel important to me, boy?”

The blonde glared at him, then tilted his chin up, “All I care about is getting what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want to be able to do and have whatever I desire without consequences.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then giving your soul to me is the right answer for you.”

“And yet you turned me down!”

Lucifer chuckled, “I said you are worthless. You are no match for the ones that do my bidding. They are far darker than you.”

“What would you have me do?” Savanis’ voice grew in strength. 

He was not afraid of the darkness. 

“If you want to give me your soul and join me, you must prove yourself. You must give me something else first.”

“I will give you anything.”

“A life.”

Savanis frowned, confused, “An animal sacrifice? I’ve already given you plenty-”

“Oh no,” the Devil stepped closer again, “One far more precious. A human’s.”

“Easy enough,” Savanis said without hesitation, the blackness in his heart causing him no inner turmoil at the request, “But who?”

A horrible grin spread on the prince of Hell’s face. 

“Is there no one in your life you wish to be rid of? No one that has tethered you down until you are merely nothing but the tool to their survival?”

Savanis stared at him for a moment. 

That nagging little voice began to beg him to listen, to wait and listen for a moment. Not to make any rash decisions. 

But he pushed it away like he had gotten so good at doing. 

“Yes, there is.”

______________________________________

“You remember her, don’t you?”

Your voice is broken and raw as you utter the words, head hanging while the weight of your body hangs on your shoulders unforgivingly. The feeling of the joints that are bearing all the weight beginning to dislocate makes you grit your teeth. 

Sav stands in front of you, his chest heaving in angry breaths. 

He doesn’t respond, only glares harder at your ruined form covered in crimson. 

You swallow thickly, tasting the metallic blood that coats the inside of your mouth. 

“You remember Marjorie…don’t you?”

Sav grabs your face harshly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Don’t say that fucking name ever again.”

You stare back evenly as you whisper. 

“Why do you pretend like you don’t remember? Who are you trying to convince: the other demons, or yourself?”

His jaw clenches, rage seeping into him at the fact that you know more than he’s comfortable with, the fact that you can read him like a book. 

An awkward silence stretches on and you can sense that Undidis is just now hearing of this. 

“If you think dropping a name that is in my past will rattle me, you’re wrong,” Sav seethes, fingers pinching your cheeks. 

“It isn’t just in your past though, is it? That is your punishment. It haunts you wherever you go, the pain you caused her now racks your own miserable being, and you will never be free of it-”

“Shut the hell up.”

“She’s up there, you know.”

The dark ocean in his irises seems to darken and get colder as you stoke the burning blue flames. He roughly lets go of your face.

“You will never hurt her again, Sav. She needs never to think of you or what you did. Marjorie sings joyfully with the angels and flies with her most beloved creatures.”

He watches your eyes drift to the dead monarch inked on his bicep. 

Your voice drops to a whisper as he steps back, hands shaking.

“Marjorie told me of the doll you sewed for her when she was three. She told me of the bread you brought home for her. You were always enough for her.”

You see him swallow thickly, but sense only an empty misery and anger there. 

“Even as you sacrificed the life of your only little sister for your selfish desires, she never hated you. She forgave you, Savanis.”

“I said shut up!” He slaps you across the face, snapping your neck to the side violently. Then he grabs your hair and yanks it so that you’re looking at him, his eyes wild with rage, “Your kind has stolen more souls from us than one could count, and yet you have the audacity to mock me while at my mercy? I am not going to stop ruining you, not until you break, and not even then. Beg all you want but I will not stop. Not even when you give in and lower yourself to me!”

“Go ahead!” You scream at the top of your lungs in his face, startling him enough to step back, “No matter how close you think you are to prevailing against His gates, you’ve already lost!!” 

The rage is clear in his eyes as he stares you down. 

Even as Undidis cracks the whip down on your back and you feel it rip deep into your flesh, pouring more blood down your already scarred skin, you do not look away from the demon standing in front of you. 

Despite the difference in your positions, he is the one that looks at you with trepidation swimming in his gaze. 

-

JK walks through the colorless trees of the second ring in the seventh circle, his gaze locked on the ground. The strange images won’t stop, they only ever get worse when he’s looking at anything but the pale dirt beneath him. 

Not once has he glanced at the sinners he passed as he stomped his way back through the circles. 

Not once has he given a second thought to the words being repeated in his head in a loop, the stupid little pathetic human souls begging him for a chance to ruin themselves. 

Not once has he been able to shake the image of you out of his mind. 

The terror in your eyes when he left you is burned into his brain. 

He wouldn’t think anything of it if the image was paired up with satisfaction and a desire to drag more misery out of you just to see you fall further into despair. But it isn’t. It’s accompanied with nothing but confusion and uncertainty.

“I’d rather live together forever. Wouldn’t you?”

The demon flinches at the soft voice that permeates his mind above all the others, a horrid feeling coming over him like when he sees those images he suddenly can’t escape..

“Live forever? Together?”

The sound of a snapping twig makes him lift his head briefly. 

The realization of looking up from the ground hits him too late. 

The sight of pale branches and dead leaves sets it off all over again. 

Shades of gray blur and morph until a horribly bright green replaces them all, the sound of birds twittering fills his ears, and the warmth of sun caresses his freezing skin. 

Laughter surrounds him as he fumbles to a stop in the forest full of so much life and light it’s painful. 

The demon glances around uncertainly before reaching shaky hands up to his ears to cover them, squeezing harshly to drown out the voices that seem so familiar and yet so foreign. 

For a moment, he thinks maybe he’s mistaken and that he was just summoned by a desperate soul seeking solace in the most perfectly horrid place. 

Just as he’s calming himself and taking his hands away from his ears, he stops abruptly after almost running into a large tree. 

He flinches back to avoid colliding into it. 

As the demon backs up slowly, he runs into something else. He turns to see an old swing hanging from one of the branches of the tree; it’s rocking back and forth slightly due to the force of him running into it. 

His hands begin to shake more than they have been since you put those wretched thoughts in his mind. 

JK takes a few unsteady steps backwards, tripping over his own feet to get away from the simple structure that’s causing so many confusing and conflicting feelings to crowd into his mind. 

Just as he’s about to turn and hurry in the opposite direction, there’s a sound cutting through the rustling leaves and singing bluebirds. 

He freezes, his blood curdling at the agonized scream that fills the forest and sucks the air from his lungs.

All at once, the green silky leaves and blue sky are ripped away and he’s back in the seventh circle. 

JK slowly turns to face the direction he came from. 

The direction where he left you to so easily be caught and tortured until you no longer had that little flame of hope he had always hated to see in you despite his desperate attempts to squash it. 

_________________________

You stare at the stone floor under you that’s illuminated with a pale red light creeping in from the crack in the corner of the cell. 

Every few seconds another ruby droplet falls from your skin and lands on the ground.

Your shoulders have long since been pulled out of place. The tops of your feet rest against the cold floor, unable to bear any weight to ease the pain in your shoulders. 

All you can do is continue to count the drips that never fail to fall in the same place, joining the ever growing puddle. 

You know they are going to come back in soon and continue where they left off. 

Please give me strength. 

You blink slowly, almost losing count of the next drop of your blood splashing into the little pool. 

The sound of the cell door flying open makes you flinch a little, but you glance in the direction of it anyway. 

You don’t see Sav or Undidis coming in to finish the job as you expected.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of JK being brought into the cell, his arms held roughly by two mangled demons that don’t even try to contain the cackles bubbling from their vile throats.  

Terror takes root in your heart when you think he’s been caught and is to be punished in front of you. Only seconds pass before you realize what it is you’re actually seeing. 

It isn’t JK. 

It’s Jungkook. 

You watch in mounting horror as they drag him to the center of the cell. 

As far as you can tell, you are no longer chained there. Instead, you are against the wall and watching as they clamp the chains onto his wrists. 

“Jungkook?” 

The name passes your lips in a breathless whisper, full of horror and confusion. 

None of them act as though they’ve heard you, or have seen you at all for that matter. How could they? You are witnessing a moment that has already come to pass. 

All you can do is stand there and stare. Your legs will not move as you tell them to, it’s like you’re frozen. 

Jungkook’s head hangs low, not looking the demons in the eye as they shriek and hurl vile profanities at him. 

A horrible scream rips itself from your throat when without warning they begin to beat and tear at him viciously. Even as you wail in desperation for them to stop, none of them react to your presence. 

You can’t even cover your eyes to avoid seeing it. 

It feels like it lasts forever until they’re finally stepping away and you can see his beaten and bruised form hanging there numbly, clothes torn and bloody cuts littering his skin. 

There isn’t a single sign of pain on his face, it’s as if he is incapable of feeling. 

The demon with bulging eyes and no nose laughs maniacally and turns to the other wretch in the room, “The fucker isn’t over the death of his little lover yet.”

Your heart rips in two.

The second demon that has mutilated moldy wings that are no more than stubs and half of its smile stitched with thick black thread, scoffs in twisted amusement, “Give him a few days and he won’t even remember her name.”

The two snort loudly to themselves before leaving the room, the cell door slamming shut behind them. 

“Jungkook,” you whimper, still stuck by the wall and at least ten feet from him.

The faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the stone floor makes your heart bleed painfully.

His dirty cheeks covered in blood and grime soon have streaks running down them as silent tears fall. 

He doesn’t move, not even when they eventually come in again and proceed to beat him without restraint. 

The sobs falling from your lips never cease as you can’t tear your eyes away from it. 

The bulging-eyed demon leans down close to where Jungkook’s head dips low, blood dripping from the prisoner’s mouth and nose. 

“What was her name again?” The voice is sneering, mocking. 

You hear his muttered reply even from where you sit by the wall. 

“____.”

-------------------

You don’t know how many times they came back, every visit bringing worse torment than the last. 

Each time, they would ask the same question. 

“What is her name?”

And each time, no matter how weak his voice became, he gave the same reply.

“____.”

------------------

The mangled demon with stubby wings lashed the whip angrily after Jungkook whispered your name for the hundredth time. 

You couldn’t bear to see the pained grimace on your best friend’s face as the thin leather strap tore into his naked skin, nor could you stand to hear the gut-wrenching cries that came from him when he was all alone in the dark cell for hours; nothing to occupy his mind but the thought of you. 

You’d screamed and pounded on the floor and thrown many fits, but he never saw you. All you could do was sit there and cry with him. 

The worst were the times when you could hear him muttering to himself in the silence, talking and laughing breathlessly about flowers and clouds and boats and sweet honey rice cakes. He would whisper about bird songs and rings and sunlight dancing on fingertips.

The stories he told to the quiet to make sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. 

-

“That’s it,” The bug-eyed demon snarled and turned to his companion to whisper something neither you nor Jungkook could hear. 

Whatever it was, it prompted the other to unchain Jungkook less than gracefully, ignoring his pained cries at the change in position. 

Then they both dragged him carelessly out of the cell. 

The next few moments flashed in front of you; the horrible images showing what it was they were doing. 

You saw Jungkook refuse to steal souls when ordered to, time and time again. You saw them drag him back to the cell and torture him until he couldn’t even scream anymore from losing his voice. 

It continued like that for nearly a hundred years. 

The time passed in a flash for you, but for Jungkook every moment felt like a millennia as they found new ways to wrench sounds of affliction from him each time he refused to do their bidding. 

__________

“We’re breaking him.”

The demon in charge of the prisoners’ under the Chamber of Souls scoffed at the lesser creature in front of him. 

“He doesn’t look broken to me.”

Jungkook kept his gaze on the floor, counting the tiny cracks running along through the ancient stone. 

He didn’t even flinch when a rough hand gripped his chin harshly and pulled to make him look up at them. 

“This girl you are so desperate to remember, tell me, what is her name?”

Jungkook blinked a few times but said nothing, his gaze cloudy and uncertain. 

Dark chuckles echoed around the cell. 

“See? I told you we-”

“Apple…”

Stunned silence fell over the dungeon at the name whispered brokenly, the screams of the other sinners fading into nothingness as the demons stood there and stared at their miserable prize.

“Get me the crank,” the general growled, “You know the one I speak of.”

Scurried footsteps faded into the hall as Jungkook lowered his gaze back to the ground.

------

The breath trickled from Jungkook’s lungs as he hung in the cell, his shoulders bruised from where they dislocated again each time he was brought back and rechained. 

He blinked slowly, watching the blood drip from him and onto the floor with a tiny splatter. 

The cell door creaked loudly but he didn’t move. 

Heavy footsteps echoed around the cell as the newcomer approached. 

Jungkook said nothing as he was unchained and dragged out of the dungeon. 

He said nothing as they brought him to a dark forest where a boy was summoning demons to make a deal with. 

He couldn’t even stand on his own, so he crumpled to the ground when they let him go. 

Jungkook stared at the young teen eagerly bundling the herbs he would soon toss into the fire. 

When asked once more if he would agree to deal with humans, with this boy, he nodded his head slowly in defeat. 

-

As they chained Jungkook back up in his cell, he stared ahead numbly, his body, mind, and will beyond the point of broken. 

The next time the demons came in and tortured him while laughing at his agony, he didn’t hold back the screams that were ripped from him. 

As Jungkook tried desperately to grasp any form of a thought in his mind, the demon general that just dealt out his torment leaned down and looked him in the eye. 

“So you’ve finally agreed to work for him, hm? This will stop then, after you answer one last question.”

Jungkook stared at him blankly, sweat and blood dripping down his face. 

“What is her name?”

The demon watched the broken young man blink a few times then look at him in exhausted confusion before whispering weakly due to the suffering endured. 

“Who?”

__________

As the ice cold cell once again surrounds you, a grief-stricken sob breaks from your lungs and you begin to weep loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls.

The excruciating pain in your body is no longer what hurts the most. Knowing everything that he went through for so long before breaking under the agony, is more painful than any physical torture they can bring upon you. 

You had asked for strength, and in seeing his torment, you got it. 

There was nothing that they could do to break you now, not if it meant you giving in would result in his eternal damnation and suffering. 

Your heart hurts so deeply you’re not sure it will ever be whole again. The only relief would be if it were to stop beating altogether.

- 

As tears of devastation drip down your sore cheeks, there’s suddenly a warmth that envelops you. 

Opening your eyes slowly, you realize you are no longer chained up, but lying on the hard floor of the cell. After a moment of staring at the cell door in confusion, you realize there’s something soft under your head. 

Turning ever so slowly, you blink up at the person sitting on the filthy ground of the dungeon whose lap you’re lying on, the entirety of them emits a warm glow. 

Your eyes are squinted from the harsh light as you back up a little and raise a hand to wipe at the tears on your face. 

When the light fades away, your gaze meets deep brown eyes flecked with gold and full of a love like no other. 

A small gasp escapes you and you instantly back away so you can bow low to the ground, forehead touching the frigid concrete.

A gentle touch on your shoulder encourages you to lift your head again. 

“I-” your voice cracks and you clear your throat before whispering again, eyes full of unshed tears, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

A beautiful smile graces your visitor’s lips as He looks at you tenderly.

“No, child.”

The sound of His deep voice that resonates a soothing regalness fills your ears and the tears instantly creep over the edge and pour down your cheeks. 

You move to bow again, laying your head on the ground at His feet while you weep. 

“Come to me, ____.”

Not wasting a second, you lift your head and shuffle towards Him. There isn’t a single hesitation before you fall into His open arms, letting yourself be cradled closely. 

You bury your nose into the beige tunic He wears, breathing in the smell of wild flowers and crystal rain before another round of sobbing ensues. 

Strong hands caress the top of your head and shoulders. 

“Tell me everything,” He whispers gently, voice full of warmth and comfort. 

Even as you bawl messily, you let everything out. Everything that has happened since you crossed into Hell, every moment of fear for the one you came to save; fear that he would not choose to listen. How he left you alone after you tried to remind him of who he once was. You tell Him of all the horrible things the demons did to you and how wretched it was to see what your best friend had gone through. 

You are never interrupted, fully encouraged to say anything and everything that has weighed you down and how you feel as though all of this has been for nothing. 

When you have finally exhausted yourself and cried until no more tears will come, you feel something else. 

An agony so deep and so visceral that you feel what you have endured up till this pales in comparison. 

You lift your gaze to see tears pouring down His cheeks. 

In your mind you see all of the souls throughout Hell and on Earth that are yet to come to this vile place, the horrid grief that strikes your heart is unbearable.

You see Jungkook being beaten unforgivingly, then you see him prowling the Earth for souls to ruin, to share in his misery. The boy that was once full of so much life and kindness and love was gone, replaced with something so wicked and so full of hate that you barely recognize him. 

As you watch the souls choose to fall across the world, the sound of His ethereal voice breaks through the fog and heartbreak.

“No suffering united with Mine will ever be wasted.”

When your vision clears and you once again see the deep sadness in His eyes, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around Him; if only to try and ease the pain of loss He endures every moment. 

A gentle hand touches your torn wings and a comfort sweeps over you. No words are needed as you feel a new strength surge through you briefly before the exhaustion once again takes hold. 

You breathe shakily as you try to regain yourself, knowing that if you asked, you would be taken from here. But you will not give up.

Nagging little worries are still running through your mind though; What if JK refuses to listen and wants nothing to do with you anymore?

Despite how angry he was when he left you, there was a flicker of hope that remained deep inside, that he would come back. You’re ashamed to admit that now you’re afraid he’ll actually leave you here to rot and continue with his wretched duties.

“Do not be afraid.”

Nodding, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. 

When you open them again, the room is empty, the sound of you blowing out your breath the only thing you hear. 

Your hands are once again chained above you, pulling your shoulders out of place slowly.

A loud clang rings out as the metal bars of the cell are flung open then the pitter pattering of bare feet is heard, nasty chuckles not far behind.  

Your limited vision is taken from you completely when slimy hands wrap a rough cloth around your eyes. 

Do not be afraid.

____________________________

JK gulps, his dry throat making it hard to swallow. 

He’s standing in the seventh circle and looking down the path he walked to get here; the path that leads back to you. 

The one that deceived him. 

You preached about being honest and yet you lied to him about the reality of who you are. Of what you are. 

Granted, if he knew at the beginning, he wouldn’t have given you so much as a second to talk before unleashing his pent up rage against your kind. 

And yet. 

Something is pulling at him, urging him to go back.

Maybe it’s the curiosity of wanting to know why you came here, why you did what you did.

Or maybe it’s something else. 

“Fuck.”

If he goes back…he will pay for it for the rest of eternity. 

…

JK closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

After a few moments, he opens them again and starts walking back down the path. 

_______

When he gets to the barren wasteland and sees the smaller mountain by itself in the middle of it, his stomach turns. 

It might not have been you. 

It could’ve been any sinner at the hands of his fellow demons. He’s heard many sounds of torment in his time. 

But never has one struck him as that one did. 

The demon shakes his head and starts walking again, eyes focused on the lone mountain in the distance. 

You probably won’t even be there, you must have gone to get the Flame yourself and just wanted to scare him off. That has to be it. You wanted him to leave, so that you could continue on your own and not have to live up to your end of the deal. 

The explanation makes perfect sense and he’s almost angry for a minute that he fell for it. But the pit in his stomach leads him to believe otherwise. 

-

As he walks up to the mountain, the snake vines becoming clearer with each step, something else makes him freeze. 

The echo of someone crying; horrible gut-wrenching anguish falling from their lips. 

His jaw clenches at the sound when it becomes obvious who it is.

It makes no sense to him why he’s suddenly filled with an uncontrollable rage at the thought of someone hurting you. 

JK grabs the snake wrapped around the handle of the back door you two went in and tears it off, tossing it to the ground and throwing the door open before stalking down the dark hall. 

He doesn’t stop until he gets to the Chamber of Souls, where he halts briefly when he sees the shattered glass on the floor, a stone lying haphazardly in the midst of it. The darkened souls where the glass used to be continue to float there, undisturbed. 

JK looks around but sees no one. The only other indication that something happened here is the ghostly feeling of past terror still clinging to the air. 

He turns his head and sees the alcove. Without hesitation, the demon walks over to it and yanks it open, proceeding to walk down the stairs and into the thick blackness. 

The high-pitched screams coming from each cell are enough to disorient anyone, but JK continues to walk down the hall, unfazed. 

He only stops when someone going the opposite direction runs into him and stumbles back in surprise. JK raises a brow, having not moved a centimeter at the collision. 

The short beady-eyed demon in front of him- whose name escaped JK for a moment but he quickly remembers it as Ekel- snarls to cover up his startlement, “Aren’t you meant to be getting punished for not meeting the quota?”

“Where is she?”

Ekel cackles, but it’s drowned out by the tortured howls around them. 

“Are you serious? You’re the one that sent her here and now you’re here to rescue her? I wonder what the punishment is for a demon letting an angel go,” he muses in wicked delight at the thought. 

The black-haired demon leans down to get level with him, snatching his wrist so fast Ekel doesn’t have a moment to think and squeezing it until there’s the sound of bones cracking and the miserable twerp is squealing. 

JK drags him closer, not letting up on the grip he has as he whispers in his ear, “I wonder what I’ll do to you when I catch you again with plenty of time on my hands. You do know the ranks here, don’t you?”

He gets no response but silence, so he keeps going. 

“I will wrench every single cry out of you that I can and I will not stop until you are unrecognizable to even yourself. Tell me where she is.”

Ekel gulps, then cries out again when JK pinches his wrist harder, “She’s at the end of the hall! But I- I didn’t do anything to her, it was Sav and Undidis, who don’t do well with their prizes being messed with. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he spits.

JK narrows his eyes at the lower demon, “Spread this to anyone and I will rip you to shreds. Do you understand?”

Ekel nods, then growls in pain when his wrist is freed. 

Before he can move to get away, JK stops him with a warning grip on the arm, “And if you do happen to blab, be sure to tell Sav that if he ever shows up in front of me, he will wish he never came to exist.”

When he’s released, Ekel doesn’t hesitate to run away down the corridor, getting as far from his superior as he can.

JK straightens and stalks down to the end of the hall. 

To the left, the cell is empty. 

When he turns to the right, it feels like a rock is lodged into his throat at the sight that meets him. 

He brushes a hand over the giant padlock and it clatters to the ground in several pieces, then he pushes the barred door open, the loud squeak echoing off the walls. 

You don’t flinch at the sound. 

As he steps into the cell, the putrid smell of every second of torture dealt throughout time here hits his nose and he grimaces. The metallic scent of blood is thick in the air. 

The closer he gets to your form hanging in the middle of the cell, he realizes that you are not conscious. 

His eyes drag over you slowly, taking in the horror you’ve been put through since he left you. Since he delivered you right into their eager hands.

The simple white dress you wore when first coming here is in shreds; your body is practically naked and covered in deep gashes from all sorts of cruel instruments. There’s a ratty brown piece of cloth tied over your eyes as a makeshift blindfold to keep you from seeing what was coming next, to heighten the sense of pain when your vision was impaired. 

Your wrists are chained above you; keeping you high enough so that your feet touch the floor but are unable to hold any weight, especially since the untold violence wrought on you has left you incapable of doing anything but hanging in defeat as your shoulders are pulled out of place from the pressure. 

The dainty wings on your back that were once white are now covered in bright red blood and torn through in several places. The bottom half of your left wing is missing entirely.

JK reaches a hand out to carefully brush the hair from your dirty face. 

“Apple,” he whispers, unsure what else to call you. 

You don’t respond. 

The demon swallows thickly, then he moves a hand behind your head to untie the blindfold. It falls to the floor and he’s met with the bruises and cuts littered along your cheeks and dark circles coated in flakey blood under your eyes. He puts an arm around your waist, holding you against him, then reaches up to touch the rusted cuffs holding you captive. They turn to dust instantly, the weight of your limp body is immediately supported by his hold as you let out a quiet moan at the pain in your shoulders from changing positions. 

He lowers you to the ground slowly, lying you on your right side as gently as he can. 

The minute he has you safely on the floor, JK brings his hand down to your ankles and rids you of the shackles there before reaching behind you and doing the same to the iron binds around your mutilated wings. 

He grimaces at the sight of blood still oozing from the left wing that was cut in half. Then he forces himself not to linger on all the injuries across your once soft skin as he looks back at your face. 

You’ve made no indication that you know it’s him or that anyone is with you at all. 

JK leans over and moves the hair from your face, voice getting caught in his throat before he clears it and tries again. 

“Apple.”

Your face scrunches a little in pain, then you slowly blink your eyes open to see a blurry face in front of you. 

He hushes you quietly when you flinch and close your eyes, “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

You don’t open your eyes but he sees a small tear slide down your cheek.

“Demons don’t make promises,” the soft whisper of your voice breaks, “Only deals.”

His eyes drift over your bloody face, the silence following your words is deafening.

After a moment, he takes a shaky breath in and blows it out. 

“They won’t be gone long, I need to get you out of here.”

At your lack of response he gently touches your cheek, only to find that you’ve lost consciousness again. 

JK sighs softly, then he places a hand on each of your shoulders where the skin is discolored. At his touch, the distorted joints move back into place, but the bruising doesn’t go away. He leans back to pull the silk top shirt off of himself, leaving only the short sleeved one on. He ever so gently drapes the smooth black fabric over your front, protecting the sake of your modesty best as he can.

Then he puts his arms underneath you and stands, effortlessly picking you up and cradling you in his hold before turning and walking out of the prison cell. 

He walks all the way down the hall and up the stairs without stopping. 

Your wings hang loosely as he goes, still bleeding. They leave a trail of splattered scarlet drops behind the two of you. 

When he steps out of the mountain and into the red light, he sees your eyes scrunch unconsciously due to the lack of anything other than darkness for a while. You move your head to the side a little to hide in his chest and block the painful brightness.

He adjusts you in his arms before starting on the long trek ahead. 

___________________

You walked along the ancient stone pavement that curved around a particularly puffy cloud. When you rounded the cloud, you could see marble pavilions covered in green ivy and ivory flowers just ahead. 

“Well if it isn’t the newest treasure! Hi ____!”

“Oh, hello Leon!” You smiled and waved at the angel that flew up to you excitedly. You had met him shortly after arriving and he was as friendly as could be. 

“Where are you off to?” 

“Imelda has called me to speak with them.”

Leon smiled comfortingly, “This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

“I’m guessing so,” you whispered, a little on edge to find out what exactly happened after your death. It hadn’t even been a day since you arrived, which meant it had still only been three days after your death on Earth.

The angel patted your shoulder, changing the subject a bit to calm you. 

“You’d get there faster if you flew!”

You laughed nervously and glanced back at the slender wings resting behind you that matched his own apart from his being larger. 

As a child, you always dreamt of flying with the clouds and the birds. It suddenly seemed a bit daunting, especially seeing all the other angels flying to and fro with an elegance and grace unmatched. The one time you tried earlier you had crashed right into one of the honeysuckle bushes and had to get help from a passing angel to get out.

Thankfully they were the only one to see you. It also helped a bit that angels are not like people and have no reason to mock.

Leon could tell by the look on your face what you were thinking. 

“____.”

You looked back at him. 

“Imelda would not have asked you to make the choice if you were not meant to. You belong here, you know that right?”

A genuine smile broke out on your face and you nodded. 

As worried as you were about messing up, there was never a place you felt more at home. There was no doubt in your mind or heart that this place was where you would always belong. You couldn’t wait to share it with your best friend.

“Good!” The pretty angel giggled and patted you on the head sweetly, “I’ll see you around! You’ve got this.”

You waved as he flew away; looking completely natural among the clouds lined with a slight hint of silver and gold. 

Of course, Leon had been an angel since the beginning, he could never look out of place. 

-

You walked up the steps to the third pavilion to see your guardian angel Imelda, who had told you her name shortly after you came through the gates. She was speaking with Him. 

Imelda was sitting on one of the many pillows strewn across the shimmering floor, adorned in her usual delicately armored gown, the sword safe at her side. 

He sat on one of the rose gold benches lined with small white flowers, your guardian angel at His feet. Golden and purple robes flowed around Him, white hair and a white beard making His striking violet eyes flecked with silver stand out even more than usual.

Bringing yourself to a low genuflect, you bowed your head respectfully. 

When you straightened, you were met with smiling eyes that held an ancient wisdom and a wonderful warmth filled you to the brim. 

“____.”

You inclined your head again.

“We have much to discuss, I am afraid it is not positive in nature.” His voice was deep, the oceans couldn't even dream to compare.  

You nodded, already having assumed as much. 

He gestured a hand out for you to take a seat amongst the pillows so that you would be comfortable rather than standing for long. 

Quickly you moved to a plush pink pillow, a little too quickly you realized, when it slid a bit with you on it and a small yelp left your lips in surprise. 

Fond chuckles floated from the two you came to meet and you felt your cheeks burn. It was nice to make someone laugh when they were not harboring any malicious intent towards you.

The air turned serious soon after, the news that was to be shared hanging in the air. 

“It’s about Jungkook…?” You whispered. 

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and gulped, “He’s taken my death even worse than I thought…hasn’t he?”

The silence that stretched on made a pit form in your stomach before you glanced up to look at them. Of course, you couldn’t be happier after death, you would never ever want to go back to that place, as beautiful as Earth was on its own, it couldn’t compare. You knew though, that poor Jungkook would not be feeling the same right then.

He was opening His mouth to speak when there was a horrible sound of sobbing that ripped through the air. 

A sound of such anguish was not normal here, it made the hairs stand up on your arms as you looked around to locate the source. 

It was coming from an angel, a guardian by the look of his baby blue wings and tunic. All of the guardians and the unborn children were a different color. The other angels, including you, were white; apart from a select few. 

But why was this guardian angel crying?

“Abba!”

The angel boy flew into the pavilion and landed with a harsh crash to the marble floor at His feet. 

“Nehemiah.”

You watched in confusion and a deep sadness as the angel who He called by name began to sob harder and clutch at His robes while sobbing into His knee. It looked like a child weeping on their parent’s lap after waking from a night terror. 

Nehemiah looked no older than fifteen; his chin-length wavy blonde hair contributing to making him look quite youthful despite all the ages of the universe he had witnessed thus far.

“Abba! I- I lost him!” Nehemiah choked on another sob, his pretty face covered in shiny tears and pale cheeks unnaturally blotchy as he hugged His knee. 

You looked at Imelda, who was holding back tears of her own as she watched Him comfort the weeping angel. 

“You did well, Nehemiah. You did well.”

You could hear His deep soothing voice through the fog of horror beginning to cloud your mind. 

When Imelda looked at you, you could see it in her eyes.

You stood, chest rising and falling in short panicky breaths. 

Nehemiah turned at the movement and saw you, a quick flash of recognition in his eyes, then he quickly broke down into more gut-wrenching sobs. You had never, never in all your life on Earth, heard the sound of such heartbreak. 

Your eyes drifted to Him and you saw a tear falling down His soft cheek. 

“No,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly, “No.”

It was a desperate plea for them to tell you that it was not what you feared. 

You died. You were always meant to be the one that died too young. Jungkook was alive. He was down there and needed you to go soothe him, that’s all. That’s why they brought you here, to tell you he was in need of comfort and that you could give it to him.

But when you looked at the blue angel once again, you knew it wasn’t true. 

If everything was okay, he would not be here without him…

You walked over and fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s guardian angel and holding him tight. He was shaking like a leaf as he hugged you back just as tight, “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed mournfully. 

You stroked his hair softly with shaking hands, silent tears falling down your face. 

-

“What do you mean, he made a deal?” 

Your voice was quiet, eyes red and tender from crying. 

Imelda was the only one still with you in the pavilion.

“In exchange for your health, Jungkook summoned a demon…he was visited by Lucifer himself.”

You knew of who she spoke. 

After coming here, everything became clear. The history of the angels and demons, of the universe itself; it all became known to you. 

“When?” Your voice broke in disbelief. You knew nothing of this summoning or this deal making that he had done. 

Then it suddenly hit you. 

“The Flame of Immortality…he wanted it,” you whispered in horror, “When he left after we were married. That’s where he went, isn’t it?”

Imelda nodded solemnly, “That is what he left for, it is not what he got.”

“But- but how? Why was it allowed to happen, why-”

“Nehemiah did the best he could,” Imelda’s voice was thick with grief, “His first choice was to love Jungkook, as mine was to love you. He spent Jungkook’s entire existence protecting him and comforting him, even during the deal. He urged Jungkook not to do it, but he was not heeded. There was only so much he could do when Jungkook had a choice.”

Tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Why didn’t he come to me?” You choked on your next breath, a hand moving to your chest in an effort to keep the air going in and out, “Why didn’t he come to me and tell me everything?”

“If he had…there was certainly something we would’ve been able to do. If he wanted help, we would have freely given even more of it than we already were. Jungkook was too far into despair and wanted what seemed to be the easy answer, he didn’t want to listen to Nehemiah’s warnings. He gave his life for you, but not in the way it should’ve ever been. Nehemiah stood by him, though, even in his last moments.” 

“Where is he?” Your voice shook.

“Jungkook died three days after you. He has been taken to Hell to uphold his end of the bargain.”

You closed your eyes slowly, hands trembling. 

“How do we get him back?” You choked out.

When she said nothing, you looked at her.

“Imelda, please. I know nothing is impossible for Him. Tell me how we can save Jungkook.”

“We can do nothing right now-”

“But-”

“Jungkook made a choice, he made a deal. But he was tricked into it without much knowledge and in the desire to do good for someone he loved. Lucifer cannot win when love and self-sacrifice is involved. He wants nothing to do with it.”

Your guardian angel took your hands and pulled you up from the pillow you were still sitting on. 

“For that reason alone, the deal can be revoked. But it comes at the highest price and only at a certain time.”

“When? When can I save him? I will go now,” you began to cry harder, “I will go and I will take him from there, please tell me how Imelda.”

Her green eyes glistened with tears. 

“The deal can only be broken for a condemned soul every five hundred years.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and you choked back a sob.

“He made a deal with the Devil, ____. A deal that would have sealed his eternal damnation had it been for his own selfishness. We are lucky he made it out of unconditional love for you, we are lucky that we can save him.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes frantically to clear them of the never-ending deluge. 

“Then when the time comes, I will go to Hell and I will save him,” your voice shook, “What is the price? Whatever it is, I will pay it. I’m not afraid.”

A single tear fell from Imelda’s eye as she looked down at you, a hidden pain in her gaze. 

“The same price that Jungkook paid,” she whispered, “A life for a life.”

_________________________________________

read 15b HERE

taglist 1; @kookxin @butterymin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @era-genius @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @ane102 @charlesswife @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyunyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @aurorathi

[iluvshinytwink]

You Know It - Jude Bellingham

"Give me one more kiss before the boys arrive. But we'll be back before you know it !"

Synopsis: In which you give Jude one last kiss before he boards a plane to his match. :)

Now Playing . . . You Know It by Colony House

a/n: i failed my exam but i PASSED MY QUIZ. RWAGGGHHH IM CRACKED 🔥🔥🔥 i also fucked up the lyrics so it would make more sense hope u guys dont mind that LMAOAO

It wasn't rare that Jude had to go away from Germany to participate in matches, this was just one of the few times where you were forced to say goodbye to him.

Jude was extra smiley on the drive there. A big grin wrapped his face and his eyes glistened with joy and excitement.

Jude was looking out the window, admiring the clouds that you drove by, one airpod was tucked in his ear and the other was in his pocket. Jude tried to suppress his smile but he was ever so excited.

You noticed your smiley, giddy boyfriend instantaneously and you couldn't help but smile too.

"Why are you so smiley, baby?" you asked, grinning. Jude's head turned to you. "I don't know." Jude shrugged. "Maybe I'm just happy you're seeing me off." he added, lacing his fingers with yours. "Cringe." you moaned.

Jude cocks his head back in laughter. "It'll be those cringey romcom movies. The male lead chases the female lead in an airport to express his undying love to her after leaving his wife." Jude explained. You looked over to your boyfriend with a look mixed with confusion yet admiration. "When I put on those movies, I didn't expect you to actually watch them." you chuckled, tightening your grip on your boyfriend's hand.

"Oh, I do watch. You fall asleep 20 minutes in." Jude smugly smiled at you. You rolled your eyes, remembering the many movie nights you had with Jude which usually started with you sleeping and ended with Jude sleeping and you watching another movie.

As you parked at the airport, Jude gets out with enthusiasm. You follow shortly.

Jude was practically fidgeting with excitement, he was quite literally bouncing like he'd jump into the stratosphere.

Jude quickly took your hand to his, you felt his cold fingers hug your warm ones once more.

Jude looked at you with a smile, you could practically hear his beating heart.

The two of you entered the airport and made your way to Jude's gate where a private plane along with the other players awaited him.

"Are we late?" you chuckled, seeing Jude's teammates already boarding the plane.

"Jude, I thought your flight started at 11:00." you said, checking your watch. "I lied." Jude giggles, looking over to you like a child.

"Why would you lie?" you said, looking up from your watch, confused.

"Give me one last kiss." Jude whispered underneath his breath, you barely heard it. You were finding the words to say other than blabbing out flustered and confused sounds.

Jude's hand untangles itself from yours as he faced you properly.

"Jude Bellingham!" the flight attended had called. "Come on, baby. They're waiting for me." Jude hummed. You blinked and before you knew it you were face to face with your boyfriend as he looked at you tenderly and softly. You felt a blush wipe your cheeks.

Jude looks away from you for a second, at the gate was Giovanni Reyna and Karim Adayemi, his friends waiting for him.

Jude looked back, but not fast enough because your lips had quickly found his.

Jude's eyes widened and his heart fluttered out of his chest.

After a few seconds, you pull away. Jude stood there, bewildered.

You chuckled at your boyfriend's expression as you glance at the gate where Karim and Gio were fakely throwing up. You laughed.

"Now go!" you said, patting his side as he finally snapped into reality.

Jude's eyes blinked and his body flinched. A big smile wrapped his lips.

Jude quickly jogs to the receptionist. "Stay safe!" you shouted. "We will!" Giovanni shouts as Karim laughs.

"I'll be back before you know it!" Jude finally says before he gets shoved into the gate by Karim and Gio.

"That was so cringe." Giovanni groaned, continuing to push his friend into the gate.

Jude tried his best to look at you, ignoring the two grown men trying to push him. Jude waved goodbye at you which looked like he was flailing his arms for help.

You laugh as you wave goodbye too.

"I told you he watches rom coms." Karim says to Gio.

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

To Start Anew (TF141xLATA!Reader) Ch.2

Part 2 coming up hot! Here our lovely reader finally meets the guys!

Warnings: Language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alarm goes off at 5:30am and you’re thankful that you remembered to pack all your new clothes the week before. As you rushed to do your routine, put on nice makeup, a nice set of lingerie and one of the new dresses you bought just for the trip. A black, knee length little summer dress paired with some strappy, chunky heels.

A whistle comes from behind you and your mom, dad, and sister are standing there, soft smiles on their faces. “Honestly that guy is a fuckin idiot. Giving up my hot sister to go do god knows what.” You laughed at your sister’s comment and sighed. “Think you dodged a bullet on this one honey. Always gave off that kinda flakey vibe.” You nodded and gave them a hug. “Thanks dad. Think I dodged a bullet too.”

Your mom perks up and checks the time. “Well let’s get you to the airport then. Don’t want you to be late for your flight!” Your dad helps you with your bags as your mom leads the way to the car, your sister talking your ear off about the trip and to send lots of pics and videos and to have fun.

Luckily when you arrived it was only 6am and the line to get through security was short enough it only took you 20 minutes to get through. You made your way to the assigned gate for your plane and made yourself comfy as you waited.

It was about 15 minutes later when a group of four men came into the area, discussing something but honestly you were immersed in your podcast and couldn’t exactly hear them. That was until one of them, a handsome man with a British accent, pointed at you and approached. He was dressed in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt, showing off defined, strong looking arms, dark skin glowing in the early morning sun.

”Sorry to disturb you ma’am, but is this the gate for flight 5138 to Italy? They changed us at the last second and my boss is pretty sure we're in the right area.” You look at his ticket and then your own. “Uhm yeah looks like it! Hate when things change last minute.” The man nods, beautiful chocolate brown eyes shining. “Thank you miss…?”

You flush, extending your hand and giving your name. He takes it and kisses your hand, “A pleasure. Thank you again.” He walks back to his group and you stare at your hand for a moment before going back to listening to your podcast. You notice them all gather around closer and sit across from each other and a seat away from you. They talk amongst themselves before the oldest, who you assume is their boss, pulls his beanie over his eyes and leans back for a nap.

The one that asked you about the gate earlier sits next to you and pulls out his phone to play some game. The other two, one with a skull face mask and the other with a Mohawk talk amongst themselves. You hit an interesting point in the podcast you’re listening to, as the narrator retells a scary experience story someone sent in. Under your breath you unconsciously mutter out a ‘Oh my fuckin god why? Wouldn’t have let the spooky batch in my house to begin with.’ Drawing their attention to you.

”Aye, letting spooky bitches into your home would nae be the smartest move.” You glance at the Mohawk guy and apologize. “Ah sorry I didn’t think I’d said out loud.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Nah don’t be. What’s so spooky anyway?” You show him the podcast on your phone, him and the masked guy looking and nodding. “The woman likes scary stories. Got any recommendations?” The masked one speaks and his voice is gravel, you absolutely love it.

”Well this one is pretty good. Active too, about 400+ stories with some of them compilations.” You give him the name of it and he searches it up, popping a headphone in and scanning the area. The Scottsman brings your attention back to him, more interested in having someone to talk to. “What are ye headin to Italy for? Family? Friends?” You hesitate. You don’t know these men and having four strange, and extremely handsome, men knowing you’re by yourself seems like a bad idea.

”Uh, Honeymoon for one.” His face drops and his frown surprises you. “That a thing? Did nae ken you could have one a those.” Beanie guy chimes in, “That’s not a thing Johnny. Quit bothering the poor lady.” “Aye Cap, just makin friendly convo with Bonnie.” Chocolate eyes smirks and leans in, “If he’s bothering you we can muzzle him for ya.” You giggle and shake your head. “No no, he’s fine.” “So what’s the reason fer the solo honeymoon if ye dinna mind me askin?”

You look at him for a solid minute before replying. “You don’t gotta answer him. You don’t know us, you’re not inclined to share.” You nod, but politely give them your name. Beanie guy introduces himself as John, mask dude says his name is Simon, Mohawk is John but says you can call him Johnny, and chocolate eyes says his name is Kyle, you make a face before furiously apologizing. You slap your hands over your face, trying not to ruin your makeup. “Oh my fucking god that was so rude! I’m so sorry.”

”Gave ‘er the ick and all you did was give the poor girl your name Garrick. That’s a new one.” “No no I’m sorry. My ex fiancé’s name was Kyle. Stupid asshole literally left me at the altar yesterday. Hence why I’m on this solo honeymoon. His parents spent the money and they didn’t want to let it go to waste.” The men stare at you in shock, taking in your outfit, the nice makeup. “”What fuckin muppet. Was he cheating?”

You shake your head. “His best man is an absolute madman with any kind of tech and went through all of this socials and electronics, even the phone records. Didn’t find anything.” The men nod and hum. “So what are you guys heading to Italy for? Business? Overdue vacation?” “Something like that.” John says. “On leave for now.” “Military?” They nod, “What’s that like?” “Fuckin exhaustin. Wish the bad guys would take some fuckin vacations honestly.”

After that you five spend time talking until they begin boarding the plane, the stewards sending everyone to their own first class areas. You order a Jack and coke and settle in for the long flight.

Tags!: @cumikering @devcica

[glennrheesworld]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐬~

genre: angst pairing: Glenn Rhee x f!reader summary: Reader finds out about Andrea's death and Glenn comforts her. warnings: mention of death & crying

a/n: i decided to do a remake of this story but following the script for the exact episode of the show (3x16) please enjoy! 🫶🏽 please ignore the quality of the picture...

The sun was setting in the background, lines of trees covering the distance from the prison. Walkers wander and groan outside the fences surrounding the prison, a so-called home. The engine of Daryl’s bike could be heard from afar, catching the attention of those outside.

Rick had arrived back from Woodbury with the others, a bus covered with long boards of wood following them. As Maggie and Glenn open the gate, you watch from a few feet away as they drive in before coming to a halt.

The rest of the group comes out of the prison, seeing that Rick, along with the others had arrived.

Standing by Glenn, you watch Rick’s distant figure as he got out of the silver truck. You glance back at Glenn’s direction, “I’ll be back.” You tell Glenn as he nods in agreement, his eyes following you as you starting to walk toward Rick.

Carol and the others seem to take notice of the bus parked on the grounds of the prison. Rick just nods at Carol as if telling her it was okay.

Making your way to Rick, your brows furrowed in confusion, watching as multiple people begin to walk out of the bus.

“What is this?”

Carl asks his dad, clearly not liking what he was seeing. Rick looks him in the eyes, “They’re going to join us.” Carl looks back at the people, frowning at the sight before simply walking away from his dad.

“Rick,” You call his name out as you get closer to him. At your voice, he turns around to face you. Your eyes search his, inhaling a short shaky breath before speaking.

“Did you find Andrea?”

Rick goes still for a second, staring into your eyes before breaking away. He lets his gaze wander to the people behind you before letting out a sigh, “Yeah…”

A faint smile grows on your lips, feeling hope swell inside you. “Where is she?” You questioned, eyes searching the people around you two.

Turning his eyes back to you, he shakes his head slowly, replying in a gentle tone, “I’m sorry…” He trails off, wanting to explain to you as to what happened but not having the guts to hurt you more. Instead, he sighs, allowing his head to hang.

Your smile falls once his words hit you. Rick could see the effect it had on you, watching your brows softening and knitting together. Andrea was gone. Everyone knew how much she meant to you.

Both you and Andrea were close to each other, so she was always there for you when you needed her. And you were always there for her.

"W-what?"

Your heart aches and your eyes begin to gloss. You didn’t want to believe it. Andrea couldn’t be gone. Maybe Rick and the others had mistaken someone else for Andrea… At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Please,” you beg softly, blinking back burning tears, threatening to fall. Accepting that Andrea was dead was too much for you. You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from Rick, feeling as if you were suffocating.

Your heart was racing, you felt your bones shaking as you place a hand over your chest, feeling it rise and fall quickly. “No…” You sob out, attempting to steady your breathing.

There was nothing you could do to bring Andrea back, you needed to accept it, you had to. You had to survive and live through this. But it was too much.

Slowly shaking your head, you start to feel your hands tremble as it fully sinks in. No more late-night talks with Andrea or hearing her voice. You didn’t want to forget her voice or her face, you want to keep her alive in your memory but how can you? You know soon enough the memory of her will disappear and you’ll forget.

Some of the new people glance at you, filled with curiosity but mainly worried. Probably wondering why some girl was tearing up in front of the man who rescued them.

“Please, please, please…” you repeatedly mumble with quivering lips, wishing, hoping, praying Andrea would show up and tell you it was just some sick joke.

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, finally letting them spill.

From afar, Glenn's brows knit together in concern, watching the whole ordeal go down with Maggie. Seeing the tears falling down your face, he decides to quickly makes his way toward you and Rick.

“Why?”

You breathe out shakily, still crying your eyes out. Looking down at your trembling hands, you begin to feel lightheaded, everything around you suddenly becomes blurry.

Glenn rushes toward you, immediately taking notice of your state. As your knees begin to buckle, he embraces you tightly from behind, stopping you from falling.

You let yourself slowly lean onto him, turning to sob into his shoulder as he rubs your back in a soothing manner. He glances at Rick with a worried expression written all over his face.

Rick runs a hand down his short growing beard, clearly anxious. You clutch Glenn’s shirt, his shoulder getting wet with the hot tears rolling. Before Rick can say anything to try and help the situation, Glenn gives him an assuring look, signaling him it was fine.

Not a second later, Rick turns and leaves.

In an attempt to speak, you lift your tear-stained face to meet Glenn’s eyes, before breaking down and hiding your face. “I’m sorry,” You somehow managed to whimper out, hands holding onto Glenn’s strong arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out.” Glenn whispers softly and kisses the top of your head, reassuring you. His hand holds your trembling one, intertwining his fingers with yours to give you some sense of comfort. Letting you know that you weren’t alone in this.

He gives your hand a small gentle squeeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck while caressing you.

“I got you, so don’t hold back.” He whispers once more, his heart aching for you. He wishes he could do something to stop your cries, but he knows it’s better for you to cry your heart out.

[minhio22]

Hey can I request for a Hajun in Acacia? I think it fits him in the hidden relationship troupe! Also hello Minhio how are you? :3

Acacia - a hidden relationship

Sorry it took so long but its finally here dogaksjsi also consider this an early birthday present from me to u. Im doing well also love ur yumeart okay bye

Yeon Hajun, The smiling noble prince, someone who's constantly surrounded by admirers. Whether it be on campus or off. You could only admire his beauty from afar as there's always people flocking to him whenever he's free. What they don't know is that he rarely lets people get truly close save from his friends Allen and Anne.

Today was no different. You were looking at him from afar as he just arrived at the campus's gate. Fangirls and alike going to him to shower him with praises and whatnot. Your hands were full with books for your classes that day.

You were just staring at him admiring how the sun hits his hair from afar. You swore he looks way too good sometimes. Your eyes met for a split second and you could see his gaze softening for a moment before gazing away so as to not get caught. Your breath hitched but you weren't aware of the person who bumped into you making you accidentally drop your books.

Hajun being the ‘perfect’ guy he had an eye on you the entire time despite it not being obvious. He saw what happened and smoothly made his way to you picking up your books for you. The group of fangirls watch him as he does so.

“Here you go.” Hajun gave you that all charming smile which made your heart beat faster. His gaze lingered a bit but he moved away from you instantly after he was done, returning his attention to the group so he could disperse them so he wouldn't be late for his classes. Some of the people from the group were envious of your short interaction but not thinking too much of it.

You were about to make your way until you noticed a small piece of paper wedged at the edge of your book. You plucked it out of the pages and unfolded it. It was a note and a certain someone had slyly slid it in between your books. There was a time and place written on it in impaceble handwriting. Your steps seemed lighter as you had a huge smile on your face as you made your way to class. It seemed like you had a date later tonight.

Later that night you were at the place the note had indicated waiting for said person to arrive. You wondered where he would bring you as he told you to wait at a bus stop of all places. There was no way the two of you were going to get on a bus. Right? Technically you guessed you didn't have to worry about being alone at night since there were plenty of people around.

You were slightly lost in thought until someone tapped your shoulder and when you turned around you were greeted by a guy who was wearing a cap and a mask. A weirdo?

The guy took off his cap and pulled down his mask slightly when he saw your expression. It was just Hajun who was in incognito mode.

“What don't recognise your own boyfriend now?” Hajun smirked.

“That's not it. I was just being cautious since it's night and all…” You rattled off a bit trying to defend yourself but Hajun just chuckled and ruffled your hair. He put his cap back on and his mask too.

“Let's go?” You asked, taking his hand in yours as he led you to wherever it was that he had in mind.

Apparently there was a festival nearby so that's where he brought you. It was lively, colourful lights, the chattering of the other people who were there and the stars were shining bright that night.

It was very faint but you could see a slight twinkle in Hajun's eye. You knew that one of his hobbies was discovering Japanese culture so you were glad he was doing something he enjoyed.

You tugged on his hand and pointed to a stall. It was a goldfish scooping stall. “Want to do that?”

Hajun nodded and you both went to it. You wanted to pay for your own play but Hajun beat you to it saying something about how he was the one who invited you and all. Prime example of a gentleman but sometimes you wished he'd at least let you pay for small things like this despite him having an extremely huge amount of ‘pocket money’.

You both received a paper scooper and a small bucket. You sat beside Hajun on the tiny stools next to the tank filled with goldfishes.

You both sat in silence as you tried to scoop for goldfishes. Unfortunately for you it only took a few scoops and the paper from your paper scooper broke. You sighed in slight frustration as you glanced at Hajun already seeing him chuckling at your misfortune. There was already a tiny goldfish in his bucket.

“What? Can't even catch one? It's only been 10 seconds hmm?” Hajun smirked at you.

It ticked you off a bit but Hajun bought you another one handing the new scooper to you as you sulked. “Shut up you sadistic noble.” You took the scooper and this time you managed to actually snatch a couple of little fishes before it broke.

After a while when the two of you were done the two of you left the stall. You had a bag in hand filled with the goldfishes you caught and an extra special one which Hajun managed to catch. It was a medaka and somehow Hajun managed to catch the slippery fella.

“Do you know they actually have competitions for this kind of thing?” You asked him, looking at the bag. Hajun didn't have one since he did not care for it.

“Is that so?” Hajun answered slightly interested.

“Yeah. Somehow you're good at these things. It irks me sometimes how you're always so good at stuff.”

“Oh? You're complimenting me now?”

“Take it as you want.”

“Candy apples?” Hajun leads to a candy apple stall.

“Yeah. You like stuff like this right?” He asked you, pointing at the display.

“Mmm well yes.” You stared at the options. The sweet smell of melting sugar and other scents from nearby stalls were practically making you drool.

“You're practically salivating.”

“No I'm not.” You pointed to one in particular and Hajun looked at the one you were pointing at.

“That one please?” Hajun bought it for you. It wasn't the traditional candy apple flavour it was cinnamon sugar but it's tasty nonetheless.

“There's one in Tokyo isn't there? The one that's on sns. Let's go there sometime.” Hajun held your hand as you both walked.

“Sure. Also try it.” You raised the candy apple to his lips telling him to taste some of it. You knew he wasn't too fond of sweets but it's not that bad.

He took a bite, surrendering to your whims. “It's not bad.” The slight cringe couldn't be ignored by you. (Well i think he doesn't like sweets based on his valentines tweet about being grateful getting bitter choco than normal ones)

“Look.” You pointed to one of the stalls. The vendors were selling masks. You took one off and told Hajun to crouch down for you a bit. He took off his cap for you as you placed the mask on his face. It was a white fox mask very appropriate for his sly personality.

“Do I look even more dashing to the point that girls would swoon at the mere look of me?” He smiled that smile that made all the girls weak.

“Oh you.” You pulled down the mask to cover his face more at his flaunting. You wouldn't lie though. He does look good.

“Oh my gosh?! Is that Yeon Hajun???” You tensed up when you heard some squealing nearby.

Hajun seemed to sense that there might be a situation on hand so he swiftly placed his cap on your head covering your face.

“It really is! Hajun-kun what are you doing here? We're so lucky to see you.” Apparently there were two girls who happened to be Hajun's fans.

“Just enjoying the festivities.” Hajun secretly glanced at you smiling.

No one knew you were dating. One of the reasons was because being an well known rapper and model did him and you no good when it came to dating. That and you didn't really want to draw everyone's attention but regardless of what everyone thinks. He's still you're boyfriend at the end of the day. Even if he might be smiling at some fans right now later on he'd still take you bring you to see the fireworks. Maybe sharing a kiss or two beneath the moonlight. You couldn't have wanted it any different.

[graysparrowao3]

WIP Whatever: Rolan, Cal, & Lia Special

Thank you for the tag @forget-me-maybe! I know it's not two particular Northern Bastards (but if that's what you were hoping for you may find such a snippet here). I hope it's not bothersome or disappointing if I indulge in posting again, I know I have more than usual lately, to be honest I'm just a bit proud of this bit.

Some more tags should you wish to share or share again <3 @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @falcatamandarina @reverieblondie @commander-krios @turquoiseoverthesea

Behold! From the next chapter of The Elturian Prodigy fic...

Rolan, Cal, and Lia are currently in Avernus trying to survive. Rolan may have finally started to figure out a way to get them back so that the events of Baldur's Gate 3 can begin....

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR DESCENT INTO AVERNUS BELOW THE CUT

Rolan cleared his throat. “It has to be the Companion.”

“Want someone to ask you to elaborate, don’t you?” Lia’s eyes were sullen.

“The Companion was the first thing we noticed. When it flickered, changed. That happened before the devils decided to make an appearance. If I can figure out the nature of the change to the Companion, we find our way home.”

“I’ll pack my bags,” Lia’s tongue and voice was dry. “Glad you took your time coming up with that stellar conclusion.”

“Bet it tasted like cheese,” Cal mumbled vacantly under his breath.

“I suppose you’ve already detailed the particulars, have you?” Rolan glared. The exhausted woman across the room huffed air though her nose.

“Fine.” She did not sound pleased about it, but she did continue. “What are you thinking?”

“I’ve been trying to establish a way home, but I’d been thinking too small, too direct. Perhaps it’s less about reversing the way we arrived here, and more about the bigger picture.” He paused for both theatrics and to gather his next thoughts. “It was High Overseer Kreeg who produced the miracle itself. A blinding light to rid the city of evil, or some such drivel.”

“It was evil, Rolan,” Lia rolled her eyes. “We're living in it. Kreeg helped the Riders, saved the whole city.”

Lines creased Rolan’s brow. “I never can remember the deity Kreeg revered. Divine matters. Not my forte.”

“Torm,” came a soft muttering from the youngest tiefling who let his head rest back against the wall.

“Ah. Yes.”

Cal forced whatever amusement he could to his voice, which wasn't much. "Pretty sure if we weren’t already in Hell you’d be smited for blasphemy.”

“Right,” Rolan cleared his throat. “Torm. And Torm is of course…”

“Patron of Paladins.”

“Obviously. A beacon of righteousness and duty. A bleeding heart. Surprised you weren’t fully converted, Lia.”

“Might’ve thought about it,” she shot back. “Not that it’s any of your business. Could've used a few answered prayers lately.”

Rolan was too engrossed in thought to register her reply, his face furrowing further. “Does that sound like the sort of God to banish us to Hell?”

Cal’s eyes slowly animated with curiosity and he sat forward. “What are you thinking, Rolan?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “But you recall making the oath of the Creed Resolute…”

“Which you were willing to break the second the city faced danger,” Lia made her disdain apparent.

“Which I still would, if it were possible,” Rolan’s voice lowered to a pensive mumble. “To serve the realm of Elturgard… the High Observer… defend the city…”

“Serve all people and the greater good,” Lia added. “Uphold Elturgard’s laws and the Creed Resolute.”

Cal finished the code contained within the Creed. “Allow no difference of faith to come between us, and not attribute the Companion to any one God.”

Rolan nodded in affirmation of their combined words. “Now, Lia’s fanciful ambitions aside, why would anyone other than the Riders need to make such an oath?”

“Hells, Rolan,” she frowned, “you wouldn’t shut up about it at the time. We get it – you are so philosophically advanced and the rest of us mindless idiots to social convention.”

“No, Lia,” Cal intervened, “I think he’s actually onto something this time. You think it’s connected, Rolan?”

“It’s no more impossible than anything else. The timing alone is suspect. I’d bet money – if we had any left – that if Torm put the Companion in place, or Kreeg through Torm, or whatever else – I don’t know how all that nonsense works - it’s not Torm’s will that undid it.”

Cal couldn’t help but put words to the question that sat waiting. “So… who did?”

Rolan took a deep breath. “Someone who benefits from every living soul in Elturel swearing to the Creed Resolute.”

The air and vibrations in the infernal basement froze.

“Rolan…” Lia’s voice shook with caution, “please tell me you know who that is.”

“It’s a guess,” he tempered expectations, but the vivid blazing behind his eyes betrayed his excitement. “We are, as I believe, in Avernus. Currently under siege in the Blood War. Commanded in the First Circle of Hell by-”

“Zariel,” the word left Lia’s mouth breathlessly.

Rolan offered an acknowledging nod of his head. "Or, in as it means literally... Companion of Light."

“Holy shit, Rolan,” Cal was leaning so far forward he was leaning on his palms, his eyes flaming bright, “you’re a genius.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Lia mumbled instinctively, but a thick layer of exhaustion had lifted from her face and she was staring with expectation. “But this is insane. Zariel is an Archdevil. Maybe if he figures out what we can do about it.”

“Well whatever Kreeg is up to clearly hasn’t helped. And the Riders are next to useless.”

“Rolan!”

“My best speculations,” Rolan hummed. “If Torm was the one that conjured the Companion, perhaps he’s not best pleased about its demise and would rather like it back. If Zariel was involved from the start, I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. Not without more information. Either way, there’s only one place in the city that might offer some insight into the matter.”

Two voices in union gave the final obvious answer.

“The High Hall.”

Rolan tipped his head and his shoulders pulled proudly back. “Perhaps there’s a reason to risk the bridges after all.”

[the1975attheirverybest]

Here's the sub matty request

warning: smut

------

“Matty—You gave me a fright, Jesus!” She gasped as she watched him walk through the door, remarkably early, his hair noticeably identical to the way it looked when he left not too long ago, and his gym bag full. “Thought you’d be happy about it.” Matty mumbled, startling her a second time when he let his bag drop to the floor with a thud. “Did you forget something? I packed your gi and your guard and everything.” “Not going anymore.” His reply was terse, but just saying those 3 words took a lot out of him. “Why not?” “You’re the one who’s been complaining that we never spend any time together when I’m home.” She heard the edge in his tone but chose to look past it. “You- were halfway there but you turned around and came back home to spend time with me? Have you told your face that? Or your voice?” Matty remained silent, looking past her and breathing deeply to keep from letting the snide comments slip out of his mouth. He felt like a balloon being pumped full of air. Slowly but surely, growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until finally, one last pump of air and “You’re ignoring me.” POP! “For fucks sakes!!!!” Matty yelled, both of his hands flying to his temples. “When will this interrogation end, officer?!!! Am I free to leave? Are we fuckin done here??” The balloon had burst.

Matty’s chest heaved, his eyes staring down at his shoes. The sound of his own voice from moments ago still echoed in his ears. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have yelled. And he shouldn’t have been cruel with his words either. But it’s too late now. He can’t take any of it back. The silence between them was deafening, the air felt heavy. He tore his eyes away from the floor for a moment, to glance at her, but the second that they locked eyes, he felt the tears begin to sting. He looked away as his lower lip began to tremble. He didnt want to cry. Not in front of her at least. He recalled reading somewhere that pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth could prevent crying. His tongue raised inside his mouth, testing to see if it would work. He was overcome with guilt. He couldn’t possibly look her in the eyes after his ridiculous outburst. He turned around, to hide his face, sniffling with his back towards her.

Calmly, she walked across the room towards him. Matty wiped his tears on his arm as he felt her approaching.

“Matty…” she cooed softly. “No- I- just- need a minute.” His plea punctuated with sniveling. Disregarding what he’d said, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The soft gesture shook him, a loud sob tore through his chest. His knees seemed to buckle, but she quickly hooked her arms underneath his armpits him from behind, holding him up.

“It’s okay, Matty. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.” She whispered, her chest pressed to his back. It broke her heart to see him like this. “Let’s sit down, yeah? Can you do that for me?” At her suggestion, Matty straightened his legs, pulling himself together and stepping outside of her embrace. She trailed behind him, sitting right next to him and placing her hand on his back, rubbing it gently. “No, please. I don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve to be consoled right now.” Matty attempted to squirm away, shrug off her hand, but he was trapped between her body and the arm of the couch with nowhere to go. “Hush, now. None of that.” “I- yelled at you. I was mean.” He blubbered as she pulled him closer, kissing his cheek and rest his head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Matty. You didn’t mean it.” She wasn’t shaken by any of this because she’d seen it coming, expected it for a while now. He’d been short and snippy with her since getting home. She could see the stress and exhaustion written all over his face from the second that he’d walked through the “Arrivals” gate at the airport. “I didn’t. I’ve just been- it’s been-“ he searched his mind for the right words to justify his behavior lately, but there were none. “You’ve been stressed.” She finished the sentence for him. “You’ve been working yourself to death. I mean, you’re home for- what- like….five days?” He nodded, surrendering to where he knew this conversation was going. “You’ve been here three days and I’ve barely seen you. All I see of you is getting up early to get to the studio, or to make a meeting with someone. Last night, I found you passed out on the couch, with your shoes still on.” “I’m sorry- I-“ “I’m not mad, Matty. I’m just saying. You’ve been overwhelmed. And, when you’re overwhelmed, you have a tendency to lash out. You try to control things with a tighter grip- to its like you think that if you just push hard enough, you’ll feel better, but it just makes things worse.” Matty pulled his head off her shoulder, sitting up straight. She looked into his eyes and saw him looking back. Like a lost kid, begging for direction. “Just….can’t make my brain stop. It won’t stop.” He mumbled, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. “I feel like if I give up control, I’ll drown.” “Baby, you’ll never drown as long as I’m around.”

“You sure you want this?” She pulled his face from where he’d buried it in embarrassment, in the crook of her neck. Matty blushed when he felt the intensity of her eyes on him, studying his face for any signs of hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure. Promise.” He whispered

It wasn’t that they’d never done this before. Had sex after an argument. Makeup sex could be great sometimes. Whether it was a huge fight that left them both in tears and in need of intimacy and reassurance, or a simple spat that had blown out of proportion in the heat of the moment turning from anger to passion, they weren’t exactly shy about it. But this felt different. With one of them more vulnerable than the other, it was slightly new territory.

Matty could tell that she was still uncertain. He looked directly into her eyes. “I just- want you to break my brain. Stop it from thinking.”

She placed a gentle hand to his cheek, without a a second thought matty felt thumb next to his mouth and dipped his head lower and took her finger into his mouth.

The gesture lit an insatiable fire within her that longed to consume him instantly. And he could see its spark in her eyes.

“Ah-ah! Nope. Don’t even bother. You just lay there and look pretty.” She rounded the bed like a vulture circling its prey. “Don’t deprive me of the pleasure of peeling that uniform off of your body. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve pictured myself doing that?” She bit her lower lip at the memory, towering over him and running a finger down his shirt.

The black polyester fabric of the rash guard separated his skin from hers, but Matty almost felt himself shiver. His mind and body already beginning to surrender. That, was the feeling he craved most when they were apart.

She pulled his shirt over his head. Tossing it to the floor. His shorts followed not too long after. She stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight of him splayed out on the bed, in nothing but his underwear, looking at up at her. “the brain breaking that you’ve requested requires a special combination of pain and pleasure.” She stated calmly before turning around and reluctantly walking away from him, towards her nightstand drawer. “I need some tools.” Matty couldn’t tell what, exactly, she was rummaging around for, nor did he want to guess. He’d find out soon enough. This wasn’t about him predicting and controlling what happened next. It was about, just, letting it happen. “There’s just something about having a man like you, who looks like- that” she gestured at his biceps and his torso, be completely at my mercy. She tied his wrists, one at a time, to the bed frame. “Look at that.” She tilted her head, admiring his flexed arms against the restraints. “Gorgeous. I could sit here and stare at your beauty for hours.” Her voice small, hypnotized. She shook herself out of her trance. “But don’t worry. I won’t. We’ve got more intense things to worry about.” Matty turned his head to the side and watched her pick up his cigarette lighter. Then, she broke a piece of wax play candle out of its container and lit it over his exposed chest.

She smiled, watching as drops of hot wax dropped onto Matty’s chest making him flinch and wince. She’s started slow, one drop at a time, giving him a chance to warm up and connect with his body, but she wanted to have fun now. She tilted the candle upside down completely, moving her hand forward and directing a stream of freshly melted, liquid wax to splash over Matty’s nipples. “No- fuck!” He bucked his hips reflexively attempting to squirm away. “Shiiiit-“ as the wax spilled Matty’s primal scream filled the room, drowning out the sound of the restraints pulling at the bed frame.

She look down at the artwork she’d created on Matty’s skin. The wax had dried over his chest in all sorts of shapes and patterns, some dots lined his tattoos, other lines squiggled around or ran across his chest from the top right, over his nipple, diagonally to the bottom left just abo his hip, it was quite the abstract painting. But it was now time to scrape it off. “This may hurt.” She giggled to herself as she picked up the flogger, swinging it in the air. Matty’s eyes widened as the flogger came into view, but before he had a chance to protest, she hit him square in the middle of his stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs and rendering him speechless. A few warm up hits later, she reigned the flogger down on him relentlessly, the pain doubling as the leather scratched at the wax on his chest. He felt breathless, sweat running down his flexed biceps, wrists struggling tightly as he winced and moaned in pain. “This what you wanted, darling?” Matty attempted to nod. She shook her head and he knew what she meant. “Sorry- I- um- fuck!” His body jolted at a particularly painful piece of wax pulling at his chest hair as it ripped away. “Yes. This is what I need. Yes- thank you. Thank you. Thank you. A-fu- than-k- you.” He chanted over and over to the rhythm of the flogger.

By the time that she’d tossed the flogger aside, Matty was gasping for breath, the skin from his chest to his hip bone throbbing, painful, bright red and bruised. “Oh, baby.” Her words were pitiful but she had a satisfied smile on her face as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, her hands lightly touching his hot skin. “That looks painful.” She whispered, almost to herself. Slowly, she dipped her head low, placing soft kisses to the body she’d just tortured. Matty jolted at first, the soft feeling surprising him. He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the sensation of her lips on him, but his skin was much too sensitive. He couldn’t help but whine and bite the inside of his cheek. “Ow-umm thank- ah!” “Don’t thank me yet, baby.” She glanced lower, at the obvious bulge in his underwear. If matty had his wits about him he’d probably beg for release or something, but she could tell the mix of sensations had overwhelmed him. His lay there, chest rising and falling rapidly, pupils blown, his damp curls a mess. She leaned over to kiss him quickly before moving to retrieve some lube. “Alright, my love.” Matty gasped, his hips bucking off the mattress as he felt her hand reach into the waistband of his underwear and pull at his hardened cock. His eyes fluttered shut instantly, a long, deep and guttural moan leaving his lips. “Oh- fuck- baby-“ his brows knitted, he whined pathetically as she proceeded to pump him with her hand. “Yes, yes, yes” he repeated, his hips meeting her rhythm almost automatically- without him even having to try. “How’s that feel, honey?” Matty couldn’t understand why, but that single word, “honey” is what sent him over the edge, breaking his resolve and sending him hurling into sub space. He was practically useless now. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get much of a response out of him at this point. “Stay with me, my love. That feel good?” It took him a moment to hear and process her voice. “Uhhu.” He mumbled incoherently. She tugged at his balls. “Can feel you getting closer.” All she could hear from him were non specific grunts and moans. His legs beginning to tremble and his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he attempted to ask for permission, even as he struggled to string words together. “Oh god- I- mm- I-“ “I know, baby. It’s okay. You can let go. Cum for me, Matty” He let go with a rough scream that scratched at his throat. His head pushing against the pillow, neck strained and the veins on its side, noticeable. She heard his feet fall limply back onto the bed as he came down. Everything was still and quiet for a moment. Matty was too overwhelmed to open his eyes. But he felt her hands in his hair, caressing it gently as she spoke softly and sweetly, coaxing him back into his body. “You did so good, my love. You’re always so, so good for me no matter how hard I make it on you.” She wasn’t sure if he was even listening, so she untied one of his wrists, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. A moment later, she felt him squeeze back, weakly. Relief washed over her. “I’m so so lucky to have you. You’re perfect.” She kissed the back of his hand. Faintly, but unmistakably, she heard him whisper. “I love you.”

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

I have seen for the first time a Wednesday x Dark Souls fic and lemme tell you.... It was perfect! Istg im obsessed with Angst and Hurt/Comfort lately so here we go! Instead of Dark Souls, we do Elden Ring

Elden Ring x Wednesday

Instead of Goodie healing Wednesday, Tarnished!Reader bursts in and makes Wednesday drink their last flask of Crimson Tears, healing her back to full health. Reader knowing that they can just restore themselves back at the Site of Grace that they recently discovered at their favorite clearing in the woods(No one knows this fact as Reader doesnt ever reveal he is a tarnished), Protects Wednesday from the arrow that Joseph Crackstone directed back to Xavier and fights him with the Carian Greatsword until Reader is at the brink of death. Wednesday and Bianca kills Crackstone but Laurel Gates shows up with a gun and with Eugene being a bit late, Laurel pulls the trigger shooting at Wednesday but Reader flings themselves at the line of fire with the last of their strength, gets shot instead of Wednesday and falls to their knees and starts to fade away. Reader looks at Wednesday and smiles at her, says "I love you" and fades away. You can go off on from here but! Dont let reader revive until 4 days from then for Angst.

Wednesday x Tarnished!Reader

Footfalls echo throughout the woods as you dash through towards Crackstone Crypt. A dreading sense leads you there. You curse because you haven't had the chance to refill your supplies, but in turn, hoped that you didn't need them. You still felt fine. The coming battle shouldn't be too worrisome, right?

As soon as you crash through the crypt, your eyes fall upon your lover, Wednesday, laying on the ground and bleeding from a stab wound. Immediately, you're by her side.

"Hold on. I got you."

As you cradle Wednesday against your body, you reach for one of your flasks. It was that moment that you realized that it was the last of your Crimson Tears. You weighed your options, but only for a second. You popped the cork and steadied your love.

"Here. Drink. This'll set you right."

You juggle the flask a bit to reach down and pull the knife out of her torso. Immediately tossing the blade aside, you hug an arm around to stem the wound as you help Wednesday drink the last of your tonic.

"Ugh, that stuff is vile," you hear her say. A soft laugh escapes your lips.

"Yeah, but it works. Look."

Wednesday could already feel her stab wound mending. She raises her cut hand to take a look and watches it stitch itself together. Still a bit sore, she stands with your help before making her way out.

"Crackstone's on his way to the academy," she states. "We have to stop him."

"At your lead then."

-----+++++-----

You and Wednesday find your way onto the Academy grounds. Enid was facing Tyler and you both trusted her to deal with him accordingly. And seeing your other friends helping to evacuate the students made you feel better about the possible outcome of the coming battle.

The quad was in flames when you stepped foot in it. Crackstone was standing in the middle, reveling in his destruction. Before he could ready another attack, Wednesday interrupts.

"Howdy pilgrim."

Said pilgrim spins around, baffled at the fact that his nemesis was still breathing. She stood before him, blade in hand. The same blade her parents used against Garrett Gates. And behind her stood yourself with hands crackling with magic energy.

"No matter," Crackstone states. "I will kill you as many times as I must to achieve my goal."

He sends a beam of energy at the two of you. You swiftly grab Wednesday and barely evade the attack. When your enemy readies another attack, Xavier arrives with his bow drawn.

"Stay away from them!"

He looses his arrow, only to have it slow to a stop right in front of Crackstone.

"Hm. A novel attempt." Slowly, the arrow rotates and aims back at the outcasts. Multiple begin to appear as they aim at all three of you. "But you cannot match my power!"

The torrent of arrows fly towards you. While Wednesday and Xavier brace for the impact, you jump ahead and summon the magic to your hands. With a strong pulse, you scatter the arrows.

"Let me wear him down. Get those outcast stragglers outta here!'

As you speak, a large blade begins to form in your hand. Soon a glowing greatsword, nearly twice your size, forms and you sink into a guard stance. Seeing the feat of magic, Crackstone grins and readies himself.

"Come. See if you can best me."

The battle is quick and fierce. You match Crackstone blow for blow, but each strike saps the energy out of your body. In your peripheral, you can see Wednesday trying to jump into the bout. Xavier was gone, presumably taking care of the evacuation. You were constantly moving, either dodging his strikes, attacking, or blocking. The mana in your body was draining quickly. Soon your life energy would take its place. You had to end this soon.

Soon didn't come quick enough.

One final clash made your blade dissipate. As much as you tried, the Carian Greatsword couldn't take form. Exhaustion pulled you to your knees and each breath made you heavier. You could only hope you made Crackstone feel as you did.

The pilgrim was indeed weary. He leans on his staff as he glares at you. That gaze shoots to Wednesday when she steps in front of you with her sword drawn.

"You believe you can stop me?" He spat out. "I've more power than you can fathom, Addams!"

He draws to his full height to ready another attack only to have a blade spring from his chest. When it pulls away, Crackstone whirls around to reveal Bianca with her saber in hand.

"Damned if I let you do anything without a fight." The siren shifts into a stance. "You fight one outcast, you fight them all."

Wednesday follows suit and sinks into her own stance before launching into an attack. With two against one, Crackstone stood no chance. His exhaustion from his bout with you slowed his movements considerably. In a last ditch effort, the man sends out a pulse of magic to try and push his opponents away. It succeeds, but only by a few feet.

Flanking the man, Bianca and Wednesday use their position to soar forward and thrust their blades into his chest, piercing his heart from two angles. Crackstone stares in disbelief for a moment before exploding, taking his magic and its effects with him.

You let out a heavy sigh and sink further into your knees. A moment of silence fills the quad before a click of a gun cocking can be heard. You all forgot about Laurel Gates

The woman, once known as Marilyn Thornhill, strides close with her gun pointed at Wednesday. The goth just eyes the weapon.

"You brought a gun to a swordfight." She states. "That's probably the smartest thing you've done today." Laurel just gives a sinister smile.

"I may not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I'll get to kill you, Wednesday."

A loud bang sounds as the woman squeezes the trigger. It echoes throughout the quad before falling into a deafening silence. The next sound to come is the thud of your knees as they crash to the ground.

You had taken the bullet for Wednesday. Whatever strength you had left, you summoned to protect the one you love.

"Y/N..." Wednesday's soft whisper barely reaches your ear. The disbelief in her voice was tangible.

The next few seconds became a whirlwind. Eugene arrived with his bees in tow and subdued Laurel. Bianca ran off to get help, only to find the police finally arriving. And Wednesday dropped to your side, grasping at your body.

Her hands find your face and your dazed eyes look up to see tears welling in her own. You offer a smile, trying to soothe the pain she felt.

"Don't leave me, Y/N. I don't intend on living without you." Your smile widens as your body slowly begins to fade with the wind. Wednesday's hands cling tighter onto you. You raise your hand to caress her cheek.

"I love you, Wednesday. With all that I am."

Your body disappears as the lightest touch grazes the goth's cheek and you vanish from this realm and from Wednesday's arms.

-----+++++-----

Laurel and Crackstone have been defeated. Nevermore Academy has been saved. Yet, the air in the school was more somber, despite the bustle of students packing their things. Most were mourning the loss of their principal, Weems. Wednesday, on the other hand, mourns the loss of her dark heart.

She was already packed, having been ready to leave after her expulsion. So while everyone scrambles to leave by the allotted time, Wednesday seeks out solitude in the woods.

It's been a few days since the final battle. The students outside of the Nightshades and Enid had no real idea of the danger they were in. And no real idea of the loss they had. While everyone knew Weems, no one really knew you. Only Wednesday.

She refused to cry. Or rather, she just couldn't cry. Her body feels numb as she wanders the woods, weaving through the trees aimlessly. This weakness was why Wednesday avoided emotions in the first place. Now everything was bland. Dull. Boring. Nothing could excite her and it made the void in her chest ache.

But something catches her eye. A bright light in the distance. As she nears it, it's shown to be a large mass of energy coalescing into an orb. How she never noticed the clearing before baffled the goth. Wednesday watches as the orb pulses softly and fights the urge to reach out.

The energy lets out one more pulse before it begins to take the form of a human. Wednesday watches in fascination, having never seen something like this before. Her curiosity momentarily eclipses her grief. When the figure's feet touch the ground, the energy bursts out, forcing the goth to shield her eyes. When she looks again, she can't believe the sight.

You stand amongst the dissipating energy without a single wound on you. You stretch a bit to acclimate to your body again before finally noticing Wednesday.

"Oh. You're a sight for sore eyes." You grin. The situation was relatively normal for you so it didn't faze you.

"You're alive? How?" The goth reaches out and touches your hand. The touch moves to your arms and continues until her hands reach your face.

"It's a long story... I can tell it after you catch me up on what's going on."

"Not before I kill you again for dying like you did." You can feel nails digging into your cheeks.

"Owowowow I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It's a while before Wednesday returns to campus with you in tow to everyone's surprise.

[goldennikko]

WHAT A (CUTE) PAIN — yeh shuhua

summary : shuhua almost always gets herself into trouble at school, and you were growing tired of her daily trips to detention. however, she seems to have a reason for it.

pairing : shuhua x student council president!reader

tags : f!reader ; high school!au ; prankster!shuhua ; shuhua is a trouble magnet ; tiny one-sided rivalry ; reader is in denial ; tsundere(?)reader

requested: ✔

word count : 3.5k

you'd think that being the student council president is all about fame, chilling with other student officials, and having every single student at school chase after you. but that is not how your council life works. although you were well-known, you were only the second most popular student.

yes, you were second to someone for the first time in your life. you were always first in rankings and other academic matters ever since you were a child, popularity included. however, you came in second in terms of school popularity, and who is this someone?

"uh, pres?"

you raised your brow at felix, a student council member who had his head poking around the doorframe, before returning your gaze to the paper you were signing. "felix, what did i say about not bothering me when i have paperwork?"

felix scratched the back of his head. "sorry, pres. but the yeh girl just sent someone to the hospital."

when you heard the all-too-familiar last name, former of the two, you almost broke the pen in half with how tightly you gripped it. you'd hear that last name almost every morning or afternoon, and even in between classes you'd be called because of her.

this was the nth time this month you heard about her being sent to detention. but the few others were all minor inconveniences, simply sleeping in class and not paying attention to the teacher, or being a little too loud in class or during group activities. 

however, there were times when her actions made your blood boil and your veins pop out of your forehead, ready to burst in complete annoyance.

the first time you met her, she pissed you off to no end.

"excuse me."

the pale girl you've been looking for for the last thirty minutes turned around and raised a brow at you. you were taken aback by her attitude, but you decided to overlook it for the time being. 

"are you the exchange student from taiwan?"

the girl looked you up and down, causing you to clench your jaw. this girl, an exchange student, was beginning to test your patience with her stupid attitude.

"yes, got a problem with it?" her tone held so much sass in it, and you despised the way she spoke to you because everyone respected you.

"follow me."

you turned around, ready to walk her to her assigned room, but she just stood there and called after you, her annoying voice echoing down the hall.

"and who are you to tell me what to do?"

as you came to a halt, an imaginary irk appeared on your brow. you took a deep breath in and out to relax before facing her with a sarcastic smile, one minute away from kicking the girl out of school.

"i'm your guide today. kindly follow me."

"ah, you're late."

you ignored her and kept walking because you didn't want to lash out at her. her audacity to tell you you were late when you were actually waiting at the gates for her arrival early in the morning, but she apparently forgot or didn't listen to the instructions that she'd have to meet up with her guide, who happened to be you.

"your school is already incompetent. you're late when you're supposed to be my guide."

deciding to play nice for now, you smiled, but it didn't reach your eyes. it was sarcastic. "apologies, ms. yeh. it seems you didn't see me waiting at the gates."

"i was supposed to do that?"

you took a breath and gave her an annoyed look. she was already staring at you and examining your side profile. you ignored her, too annoyed to speak, and walked ahead. she, on the other hand, ran up to keep up with you.

"wait, aren't we supposed to walk around school, so i could get a feel of the new environment?" shuhua inquired, but her voice only added to her annoyance.

"if you had shown up on time, we would have done that hours ago." you grumbled and glanced at your wristwatch, scrunching your nose in displeasure. "because i have to get you to class now, you're thirty minutes late."

she shrugged casually. "i woke up late."

"that is extremely unfortunate."

the exchange student heard the heavy sarcasm in your voice and silently observed you. 

the way your brows furrowed in annoyance, the corner of your mouth twitching now and then, your jaw clenching and unclenching whenever she spoke.

shuhua could tell she annoys you and she loves that.

the time was cut short, however, when you stopped in front of a room and introduced her to the homeroom teacher. shuhua stood there watching you walk away without even a bow or a glance at her until you vanished around the corner.

the pale girl expected to see you after class. however, when she walked out of class, a new girl greeted her.

"ms. yeh, nice to meet you. my name is karina. i'm the student council vice president. i'll be your guide today."

shuhua blinked, disappointed. "where was the girl earlier?"

"ah, pres? she's busy."

shuhua's eyes widened, not expecting anything like that. she knew you were a popular kid based on how her classmates reacted when you first knocked on the door, but she had no idea you were the president.

"what's her name?"

"y/n l/n."

the second time you interacted with shuhua was the next day. 

you found her wandering around like a lost chick, looking around as if the white walls could help her. but then you noticed the most strict teacher at school and immediately confronted her.

"you! what are you doing in the corridors?"

when shuhua opened her mouth, you knew something unpleasant was about to be said, so you swooped in, appearing out of nowhere and startling both of them.

"ah, miss." you bowed respectfully as you approached the pale girl from behind, bringing her down with you as you smacked a hand to the back of her head.

she glared at you, opening her mouth, and her words were about to be directed at you, but you slapped a hand to her mouth.

you apologetically smiled at the teacher. "i'm sorry, miss. i lost her earlier in the crowd while trying to give her a tour." you lied smoothly.

the teacher nodded. "i see. you two go. but if i see her wandering around again, she'll be sent to detention."

you wouldn't have offered shuhua assistance if you'd known how much detention she'd get back then.

you jerked away from shuhua because you felt something wet on your palm. she gave you a wide grin, albeit annoyed as well, as you gave her a disgusted look, wiping your palm on her uniform.

"where were you yesterday?"

"disgusting."

with that, you left, ignoring her questions.

shuhua was unable to interact with you after that because you were too busy, much to her dismay. she'd only see you in detention whenever you visited the room because the assigned teacher had called you in.

she'd wave enthusiastically from her seat once your eyes met, which you'd always ignore. merely passing her by before departing with karina.

however, what you didn't notice was the way she deflated.

you, on the other hand, kept an ear out for her, always aware of whatever mischief she got herself into. karina was always in charge because she was always in the same area as shuhua when chaos erupted.

you interacted with her again a few weeks later, but not in the way she nor you expected.

you were on your way their room to pick up felix from class. unfortunately for you, there were classmates. even though it was early, you knew he'd be there. when you opened the door, however, you heard panicked screams from inside before feeling the gooey sensation all over you and a metallic bonk on your head.

"shit."

with the most dangerous look in your eyes, you looked up at the suspect, who happened to be shuhua. she panicked in front of you, unsure what to do while also explaining her side of the story.

"shit, shit! that wasn't for you! that was for someone else in class!" 

you remained silent, staring at the pale girl with all your pent-up frustration from your council work and shuhua herself, causing her to panic even more. until felix stepped in, fortunately for you and unfortunately for her.

"pres?! here, come on, let's go."

as felix led you away, shuhua stood there, staring at the back of his head. fortunately, no one was around. as you walked away, her gaze shifted to your goo-covered body and her shoulders sagged as she pouted sadly.

"but that wasn't for her…"

shuhua expected detention that day, but to her surprise, no one from the council came in to tell her she was being sent to detention or even suspended for finally pissing off everyone, especially you.

even felix. he returned only to retrieve his belongings.

meanwhile, you had no idea why you let it slide that day, but your stomach was churning with rage as you remembered how she panicked and hurried to apologize to you. you can't even remember the goo all over your body or the painful bump on your head because all you could think about was how much you despised her stupid apologetic expression because it didn't suit her.

and now, this, felix telling you she had just sent someone to the fucking hospital.

when you abruptly stood, felix flinched back, the chair screeching loudly in annoyance, as if mirroring how you feel right now, and stormed out. the aussie was quick on his feet, chasing you down to prevent you from exploding. although that was usually karina's job because she was closest to you, he is now in charge because she is away on academic matters.

"why the hell did you do that?" soyeon scolded as she helped shuhua with the cut across her cheek.

the pale girl crossed her arms. "he was disrespecting the president."

"i didn't know you were so involved with politics." yuqi sassed from next to them, leaning against the table.

"not that president." shuhua glared at her, causing soyeon to grab her chin to keep her from moving. "my president."

miyeon and minnie finally arrived, bursting through the doors. they hurried from their last class when they heard from a junior that shuhua beat up a random senior in the cafeteria.

"you disrespect y/n, too." miyeon commented, letting the thai check the youngest's face.

"but i don't disrespect her like that." shuhua corrected sassily with a roll of the eyes.

soyeon raised a brow. "what about the time you made her walk around school covered in green goo?"

shuhua smacked the older girl away, crossing her arms childishly. "that was a mistake! it wasn't even for her! and that stupid senior talked badly about her!"

the door slammed open, and everyone, including the nurse and other current clinic residents, flinched. when a furious student council president appeared in the doorway, everyone's eyes widened. 

shuhua scurried backwards on the bed as you marched up to her, felix catching up to tug on the back of your uniform and the girls making way for you, causing the pale girl to look at them in betrayal.

unfortunately for everyone, your rage made you stronger than the poor aussie boy at the time. when you got to the bed, you grabbed the collar of shuhua's uniform and drew her closer to inspect the bruises and cuts on her face.

she looked terribly beautiful.

as your eyes bounced all over her face, shuhua held her breath, pushing the gay panic down her throat. this was the first time she got this close to you, too close that if she moved your lips would meet, but shuhua knew you'd explode if she did, as tempting as it sounds and looks.

everyone in the clinic, including the nurse and other students, noticed your tension and slowly left the clinic. felix resisted leaving, but yuqi dragged him out.

"what happened?" you queried, voice stern the moment the door clicked.

shuhua stammered. "well, i, uhm, beat up someone."

you clicked your tongue, letting go of her collar. "it looks like you were the one who got beat up." you grumbled and reached for the cotton soyeon left on the bed.

shuhua watched you with wide eyes as you sat in front of her, taking her chin and dabbing the cotton on her cut, causing her to hiss.

"excuse you. if i look bad, he looks worse." shuhua proudly stated, eyes flitting down to your pursed lips. "besides, i'm not the one in a hospital bed."

shuhua sheepishly smiled and side-eyed the door, her gaze returning to yours a moment later and down to your lips. you noticed this and yanked hard on her chin. she made a dramatic pained sound, but you ignored her and pressed the cotton more firmly against her wound.

"ow, ow, ow! that hurts!" shuhua grumbled as she grabbed your wrist with her cold hand.

"will you stop staring at my lips?"

shuhua smiled painfully, letting you continue. "they look really kissable." she flirted.

you sighed. "one more stupid comment, i'll leave."

that resulted in her closing her mouth and throwing the key somewhere in the clinic. you gave her a strange look, but she just smiled back, not revealing her pearly whites.

however, you were relieved that your wish had been granted. you honestly didn't know why you were treating her and bandaging her wounds, but something deep inside was screaming at you to move your ass when felix told you earlier that shuhua had gotten into a fight. you acted on your feelings, and now you're sitting in front of the girl, treating her.

"can i ask you a question?"

you hummed, reaching for the band-aids. "choose one."

you showed her, but she was just staring at you, so she pointed at random. you raised your brow, eyeing the cute hello kitty she chose, but you complied.

"isn't that already a question?" you responded, and shuhua rolled her eyes.

"well, duh, miss president. don't you want me to ask permission first?"

you rolled your eyes. "what is it?"

"why do you hate me?"

your hands came to a halt in front of her cheek, a band-aid hovering above her wound. shuhua stared at you, waiting for a response, but it never came because you remained silent and applied the band-aid after gathering your belongings.

"well? answer my question." she tugged on your sleeve, pouting.

you sighed and sat back to look at her, the wounds on the right side already covered and the few ones on the left still exposed.

"i don't hate you."

shuhua crossed her arms. "you ignore me when i wave at you in detention. who does that to the person they like?"

you blinked, dumbfounded at her words. "me?"

the girl's eyes sparkled at the words and she leaned forward, right in front of your face, making you blush and lean back. your eyes glanced down at her lips, but you immediately returned your gaze to her sparkling eyes, forcing an annoyed frown on your face.

"what the fuck are you doing—"

"so you like me?"

your face flushed even more, and you shook your head in denial, your hands shooting out, shaking them wildly for emphasis. shuhua grinned happily, enjoying the way she made you nervous.

"no, i don't?"

you cursed yourself as shuhua raised a brow at your tone. it came across as if you were doubting whether or not that was true. 

but you knew that was true. 

right? 

you were sure. 

yes, of course.

you'd never like someone like yeh shuhua. 

she's stubborn and a prankster. she gives you a terrible headache. she drives you insane with all the detention she was putting herself through and this was the 20th time she got in trouble. 

no, you weren't counting. it's recorded.

when you see her eating with her friend group at the cafeteria, her stupid pretty face irritates you. when she waved at you as soon as you stepped inside detention, your heart would beat fast out of annoyance.

besides, she surpassed you as the most popular student at school, which she achieved by being the most idiotic prankster alive and generally getting into mischief every day.

"why are you asking these questions?" you grumbled, changing the topic.

however, it just made the situation worse.

"because i like you."

you looked at the girl, trying to find something on her face, but you didn't expect to see the word honesty written across her face.

you had no idea why your heart was pounding in your chest. you had no idea why your cheeks were getting hot again. you had no idea why your palms were clamming up. you weren't sure why you liked how her face screamed honesty.

you didn't know anything, but you knew a part of you didn't want to break her heart.

so you looked away, finding the curtain on the other side interesting. "why?" you murmured.

shuhua shrugged and sat back, causing you to finally breathe. "i just do. maybe i like the way you get so annoyed with me?"

"and did you know i did all that for you to notice me? i didn't know how to interact with you because you were always busy with council, so i got myself in trouble all the time." shuhua added with a sheepish smile.

you frowned at her, suddenly making sense of all her trips to detention. you were always running around, especially and oddly enough, to detention, where she always was. that was all for her to see you and for you to notice her.

however, you ignored that, hating the way your ears heated up in embarrassment, and glared at her. "really? out of all the possible reasons to like me?"

shuhua leaned in again, but you didn't avoid her this time, staring her down, causing her heart to flip backwards. "so it's okay to like you?"

you grumbled and reached for her chin, a band-aid in between your fingers. "whatever. let me work, so i can go back to my council duties."

beaming, shuhua complied. she remained silent to allow you to work in peace, watching the way your brow furrowed in concentration, not anger, and the way your fingers caressed her skin unconsciously. she leaned against your touch once you were finished, and you stared at her, thumb on her cheek.

"no more fighting or pranking." your voice was soft, showing a bit of care towards the girl.

shuhua frowned at you. "but—"

"it's an order."

she let out a sigh. "fine, but only under one condition."

you hummed as you fixed the mess you'd made. you waited for her to say something, but as you stood up, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. you were taken aback by the action and dropped the box onto her lap to grab her shoulder.

shuhua winced at the impending bruise on her thigh, but ignored it for the time being. "go out to dinner with me."

your brow furrowed. "huh?"

"please allow me to take you out to dinner."

shuhua stared at you as you paused, mentally pleading and praying in her head for your agreement.

you were wary, but if it kept her from causing trouble, which would alleviate your headache and other problems, then...

shuhua's eyes widened as you sighed quietly and pulled away. you placed the box on the bedside table, cringing when you saw the forming bruise as you were taking it, and walked to the door.

oh. shuhua's gaze was drawn to her lap, where she was wiping away tears and fiddling with her thumbs. she waited for the click, but nothing happened. instead, she looked up as she heard your voice again, back turned to her to hide your embarrassment.

"meet me at the gates after class. don't be late this time." 

with that, you were quick to exit the clinic, surprised to see her friends standing outside the door.

miyeon and minnie, whom you were already acquainted with, waved at you, while soyeon nodded and yuqi grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders despite your height. she was tiptoeing, causing minnie to laugh at the comical sight.

"take care of our shuhua." yuqi playfully punched your stomach.

you blinked and nodded. "i will."

from inside, a loud squeal was heard, making everyone flinch. felix, who was nearby, ran to see you all standing there. that means there was no one inside.

"is your friend okay?" he inquired, concerned.

soyeon cast a glance your way, and you avoided her gaze, gently removing yuqi's arm and patting her before approaching the perplexed aussie.

"she's fine, just... malfunctioning. hurry up, i need to sign the papers."

"SHE LIKES MEEE!"

felix looked at you, bewildered, as he let you drag him away. "does she sound fine to you, pres?"

you shook your head. 

what a cute pain.

nikko note: i feel like this was a bit messy. is it? or is it my head messing with me? i'm so sorry TT and i wrote this and the minnie fic on different days, that one has been in the drafts a bit too long than usual. anyway, let me know if you liked it! thank you for reading!

[oomfvia]

⛧i'll fight for your life chapter 2: shelter

pairing: astarion/gender-neutral half-elf paladin tav/reader (second person)

spoilers for patch 5 epilogue

sfw, friends to lovers :)

1,823 words (3 chapters, 6,097 total words)

you can also read this work on ao3

likes/comments/reblogs always appreciated!

❥ chapter 1 ❥ chapter 3

Being the saviour of Baldur’s Gate felt less like glory, and more like the gruelling work you were used to from before the Absolutist crisis. Unlike your other friends, this city was all you had. Whether it was out of a sense of duty or simply the lack of other options, you took on the responsibility of helping to rebuild the city with a smile.

That morning, you checked the mailbox like any other. Returning to your study, you sighed as you set another hefty stack of letters onto your desk. While there were sometimes a select few mistakenly sent to the address’ late owner, most were for you. Before you knew it, the role of a gallant Baldurian hero was reduced to a glorified worker bee. Between hunting down remnants of the Absolutist cult and cleaning up after Archduke Gortash’s old propaganda launches, it left you with barely any time to search for Astarion.

As you sift through envelopes, the letter from Withers comes to you like a breath of fresh air. It only seems fitting for a paladin to be aided through divine intervention during such trying times. You shove all of the other letters from imperial houses and Flaming Fist leaders into a drawer, and focus on what to wear for the reunion at High Hall.

He would be there, after all.

At the reunion, you’re reminded of how odd it is that people can feel nostalgic over things from recent memory, you included. Your past companions all arrive at the venue one by one, bringing a smile to your face with every addition to the scene. With each new visitor, came new stories to be shared. You much prefer listening to your friends’ anecdotes, compared to how you feel the need to break out into a sheepish smile whenever they ask of your circumstances.

In a deep crevice of your heart, you can’t help but feel jealous, almost. While Lae’zel was forming alliances between races in distant lands, you were being run ragged by the patriars. While Gale was pursuing a new path in education, you were being met with complaints from supporters of the late Archduke Gortash.

“Just…Helping to get the city back to normal, I suppose.”

Their smiles are polite. Approving, even. It’s honest work, if anything. But compared to what they have to show for it, what you’ve done suddenly seems like an awfully dull six months. More importantly, you’re distracted.

Your eyes wander past tables, tents, and barrels. To your dismay, there’s no vampiric elf in sight. For some inexplicable reason, you feel the bitter taste of guilt on your tongue. You’re surrounded by friends you’ve missed dearly, all of whom you’ve endured hardships of gargantuan proportions with. And yet, just from the absence of one, you feel a crushing sense of loneliness.

Your eyes linger towards the table, featuring an appetising spread of dishes laid out lavishly. Then, to the multiple bottles of wine originating from different regions. In all of your days of juggling various tasks, when was the last time you had a drink?

Far too long ago, it seems. In the matter of a few glasses, you were now absolutely sloshed.

Who cares if Astarion doesn’t show up? He doesn’t owe us his presence. I can have plenty of fun without him. Or so you tell yourself. If even Withers couldn’t conjure Astarion up out of thin air, you were starting to lose hope in your search. But you refuse to let it ruin your evening among equally dear friends.

After a few more drinks, you tumble towards the riverside a moderate distance away from the event. It’s so unbearably warm, your whole body feels like it’s just another sip from burning up into flames. As you dip your toes into the waters, you notice how it reflects your face under the pale moonlight. Your eyes are half-lidded, and your hair was somehow tangled into a dishevelled nest. You squat, peering deeper into the water as you comb through strands of hair that refuse to stay in place, muttering under your breath.

“Darling, I haven’t seen your skin this flushed since that time at The Waning Moon.”

You hear a dulcet voice, distinctly louder than the distant sounds from the campsite. Your body stills, your fingers still lodged between your split ends. If you could hear the voice from this near, the owner should be reflected in the water. And yet, you’re only greeted by your own befuddled expression.

You turn your head slowly towards the direction of the voice, your eyes trembling. Then, you are met with the same face you have been instinctively searching for in every crowd for the past six months.

“...Astarion?”

More specifically, Astarion with blood stains all over his blouse. He raises his hands with an added flourish, with the same sense of showmanship unbefitting of his appearance.

“Apologies for the lateness. The life of an adventurer can get rather messy.”

“An…An adventurer?”

The vampire laughs, as if he was already expecting you to react with surprise. Of course you would. You were the one known for being righteous to the point of foolishness, and he was known for practically the opposite.

“It turns out that no one actually cares about murder, as long as you murder the right people. And apparently I’m rather good at it.”

For someone who has left you in such grief for the past six months, Astarion is far too casual about his whereabouts for your liking. You furrow your brows as you frown at Astarion, thoroughly unamused.

“I was looking for you,” you utter quietly. Disproportionately quiet, compared to the rising heat in your chest. You couldn’t quite place a finger on whether it was due to the alcohol settling in your system, or petty annoyance at how nonchalant he was being in contrast to your previous helplessness. Considering how you felt like a fool, you decide that it’s the latter.

“Really?” Astarion asks, his voice softening as well. Instead of with words, you simply respond by scrunching up your nose.

“I…I’m sorry. I felt ashamed.”

Your expression softens slightly at Astarion’s apology. He continues, a wry smile on his face, faint lines emerging against his skin.

“I felt like I’d lost everything, just as you claimed your victory. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

And just like that, your anger extinguishes as easily as it was ignited. During your journey, you were so caught up in your own insecurities. Wallowing in your own self-pity, it had never crossed your mind that Astarion could have had his own. In hindsight, it was such a simple thread of logic to follow, and yet it felt like a grand revelation. All you can do is stare at Astarion blankly, your eyes as wide as an owlbear's.

“...Hold that thought. Would you like a drink?”

Compared to yours, Astarion’s goblet remains practically untouched as you sit by the water. You inhale deeply, your cheeks flushed in a warm pink. As he speaks, you blink rapidly, trying your utmost to absorb every single word he says. You make a valiant effort to maintain your focus, even if it feels as if your head is partly submerged in water.

“Time lent perspective. It wasn’t your victory, it was ours. And for all I’d lost, I had gained so much more.”

Astarion’s words sound strangely muffled, and his mannerisms vague through your hazy eyes. It all melts into a wonderful blur. You give him a lazy nod, along with a hum of acknowledgment.

“Are you alright, my dear? I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink for the night.”

You frown, taking a deep breath before responding. Even if only marginally, you feel your focus readjust for a second. “I’m fine, just…go on.”

Unfortunately, your concentration breaks immediately after, and you return to staring quietly at the indistinct shape of Astarion shrugging.

“I had freedom, strength — a whole new life. And it was time to live it.”

The corners of your lips curl into a smile at Astarion’s last words. You never expected any sort of return for that time in Cazador’s palace when you had dissuaded him from completing the Rite of Profane Ascension. And yet, you can’t help but feel a great satisfaction swelling up in your chest. In that moment, you had made an irreversible change to Astarion’s life. A change for the better.

“From the moment I first threatened you, I knew you were someone special. Someone to take on the world with.”

Astarion smiles in a way that’s unusually sentimental for him. That, along with the alcohol warming your body, makes you feel a strange stir at the pit of your stomach. Silently, you put down your goblet with a soft thud.

“I will miss our time together. But then again, maybe this isn’t goodbye so much as it’s…’See you later, darling’.”

Despite the objective beauty of Astarion’s words, you can’t help but disagree vehemently. If that wasn’t a goodbye, what is? You remember the frustration of the day you had watched Astarion burn, jagged edges along the fragments of his skin. The desperation as you ran after him, sprinting past debris and rubble.

You look into Astarion’s eyes, swallowing thickly as you prepare to make yet another irreversible decision. One that doesn’t seem quite as wise as the one you had made during the Black Mass.

“...That new life you were talking about.”

“Hm?” Astarion hums, his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“Is there any place in that life for me?”

“I must be so heavy. Please, let me down. I’m fine,” you insist, trying very hard to not sway in Astarion’s hold. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders for dear life, your knees shaking against either side of his waist.

Astarion scoffs at your words, seemingly offended at how you’ve just underestimated his strength. “I’m not being careful because you’re heavy. I’m being careful to make sure you don’t vomit into my hair.”

The vampire’s answer shuts you up, and you simply let your body meld against his back. It feels just a touch broader than you had expected it to be, which does strange things to your pulse. Silently, you pray to every possible deity in the hopes that he won’t notice your disproportionately loud heartbeat.

With a soft groan, Astarion lifts your body up and starts to walk. His footsteps are even and slow, in a painfully tender act of care.

“Hold on tight now, we’re heading home.”

Home.

The word echoes in your head. Clearly, Astarion wasn’t talking about that decrepit house that you had haphazardly moved into after the battle with the Netherbrain. And he was most definitely not talking about Cazador’s palace. So where was "home"?

You don’t know exactly where you're headed, but you know that it is by Astarion’s side. That, in itself, already feels like home.