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#but her questioning -- the ifs/i wish/coulds
wavesoutbeingtossed · 6 months
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The "Am I Allowed To Cry?" story reads to me like this:
I vowed not to cry anymore if we survived the Great War so I justified it. 
I didn't know if you'd care if I came back but at least I’m trying. The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me, would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
I search for your dark side but what if I'm alright right here? Because I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away, but if the story's over, why am I still writing pages? I gave you so much, but it wasn't enough. What am I supposed to do if there's no you? This won't go back to normal, if it ever was, it's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'cause I have to.
This ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight, and I wish you would come back, wish I'd never hung up the phone like I did and I wish you were right here, right now. You know I would stay forever if you say, "don't go," but you won't. If I had known what I'd known now I never would've played so nonchalant.
I wonder what we would've become if you were a better man, because you would've been the one if you were a better man. The battle's in your hands now but I would lay my armor down if you'd say you'd rather love than fight. Come on, don't leave me like this, I thought I had you figured out -- something's gone terribly wrong, you're all I wanted.
I could stand up and sing you a song but I don't wanna have to go that far. So, babe, if you know everything, tell me, why you couldn't see that when I left, I wanted you to chase after me? If you just said you're sorry I know that we could work it out somehow and if this was a movie, you'd be here by now.
But if I would've known how many pieces you had crumbled into I might've let them lay.
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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months
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[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]
Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:
"How is she?"
Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.
Interesting, how some things never quite change.
"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.
"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."
The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.
"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.
"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.
Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"
"A 'yes or no' sort."
"Then yes," he drones his words.
Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.
"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."
"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."
"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."
"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."
But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.
Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.
Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.
But time, like the seas, has no master.
_____
I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.
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bellaxgiornata · 3 months
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Accidents
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Mom!Reader Word Count: 1.7k [Collection Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: fluff, humor, and Matt getting an unwelcome surprise
Summary: While distracted talking to you, Matt forgets the first rule of diaper changes.
a/n: Yet again another blurb that grew into the length of a one-shot... I also couldn't get the mental image out of my head of this happening to Matt, so here you go! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Collection Tag List: @danzer8705 @glowstick-lesbian @flowher @geminadeckerwritesstuff @shiorimakibawrites @beezusvreeland @ebathory997 @maryyymothhh @4happilyeverafter @sleepysleepymom @kezibear @charmedkim @midnightramble @carolinaxvz @1988-fiend @marcysbear
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Leaning forward towards your laptop on the coffee table with your legs curled up on the leather couch, you reread the paragraph you’d just typed. For the past few weeks this was where you’d been stationed at home fielding emails from work when you were supposed to be on maternity leave. 
While you'd been working this afternoon, you’d occasionally paused to glance across the living room, your eyes landing on the bassinet that you’d pulled out from the bedroom earlier. Every few minutes you felt compelled to check and make sure your one month old little boy was still peacefully napping. And every time you did, you longed to be finished with the work you weren't even supposed to be doing–let alone thinking about–so you could get back to just spending time with him. 
Releasing a tired sigh, your attention returned to your laptop. As you worked, you became so absorbed in composing the email to your colleague that you hadn’t heard the apartment door open behind you. Neither had you heard Matt hanging up his cane on the wall hook in the entry hall, or the sound of him slipping out of his dress shoes over the loud click click click of your typing. It wasn’t until you felt hands gently landing on your shoulders that you suddenly jumped a couple of inches on the couch in surprise, your head flying over your shoulder as your heart rate spiked.
Matt leaned over the backrest, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Evening, sweetheart,” he greeted.
“Shit, Matt,” you said, throwing a hand over your heart as his hands released you. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I know,” he replied. “You seemed very deep in concentration.” His brows dipped beneath his dark glasses, his head canting to the side as he paused in thought. “You’re not working again, are you? Because it sort of sounds like you’re working.”
Blowing out an irritated sigh, you nodded. “Try telling my boss that. I swear, every afternoon there’s something she can’t seem to figure out without my help. Though technically what she’s contacting me for isn’t violating any of the terms of my leave, so I can't exactly refuse her.”
Matt’s mouth pulled into a frown as he began to undo the knot of his tie. “Unfortunately,” he muttered. “Though I wish she’d leave you alone. You’re already doing enough as it is.”
“You're not the only one wishing that,” you grumbled.
Turning around and focusing back on your partially written email, you were vaguely aware of Matt making his way around the apartment, slipping out of his suit coat as he walked. But when he paused just in front of the bedroom door, a smile slipping onto his face as his head turned in the direction of the bassinet beside it, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. 
Watching him over the screen of your laptop, a small smile spread onto your own lips. You remembered how he had been so nervous about becoming a father. You remembered all the late nights he'd paced the living room talking a mile a minute, worried about all the what-ifs he feared would happen and how he was afraid of being a disappointment. But even as you’d listened to his nervous chatter, you'd never once doubted him. You’d never questioned the fact that he'd be a great father. 
“Someone’s sleepy,” Matt observed, attention still on the bassinet.
“He’s been out for a couple of hours now,” you told him. “Downed a full bottle of milk and passed right out. Though I give him a couple of minutes before he wakes.” You shook your head, eyes dropping fondly down to your sleeping son. “I swear he’s got a sixth sense or something,” you said. “Because he always knows every single time you come back home.”
“Like father, like son,” Matt joked.
You rolled your eyes as Matt disappeared into the bedroom, sliding his tie out from beneath his collar. Attention returning to your almost finished email, you hoped you could finally write the last paragraph so you could send it and forget about it.
“Hopefully he at least grows a better sense of self-preservation,” you whispered.
Matt chuckled in the bedroom, the sound drawing forth a smile as you continued to work. Though you’d only managed to type a couple of sentences before the sound of soft, irritated cries rose from across the room. Eyes raising from your laptop yet again, you glanced at the bassinet. Sure enough your baby boy was awake.
“I swear, he always knows,” you muttered under your breath. 
Before you could even rise from off the couch, Matt appeared back in the living room. He’d apparently only managed to remove his dress shirt and glasses before he’d been interrupted, leaving him standing there shirtless with the belt buckle on his dress pants undone.
“I’ve got him, sweetheart,” he told you. “Just finish your email. Pretty sure he just needs a diaper change. Nothing I can't handle.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I can get him if you want to finish getting out of your work clothes.”
Matt waved you off as he made his way over to the bassinet. “It’s fine,” he assured you. “Plus, I missed the little guy today.”
Silently you watched Matt, distracted by him bending over the bassinet and scooping your son up into his bare arms. He carried him across the room to the changing table you’d both struggled to set up just before you'd given birth–a comical memory now.
“By the way,” Matt said, gently lowering your son onto the changing table before unsnapping the bottom of his onesie, “Foggy, Marci, and Karen were wondering what time would work best for us to have them stop over this weekend.”
“Oh?” you asked, perking up on the couch. “So they’re finally coming to meet the little guy?”
“Now that things have slowed at the office a little,” Matt said, undoing the dirty diaper on your son as he glanced back over towards you. “Yeah, they were hoping to. Is that alright?”
“More than alright,” you told him. “I could use some company that isn’t a crying baby for once.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed at you. “You have me, don’t you?”
A teasing grin slid onto your face as you fought back a laugh. “I said what I said, Matty.” 
The corners of his mouth curled up into that smartass grin he often had before he hit you with a witty comeback of his own, but before he could retaliate, you saw what Matt failed to notice just a second before he realized what was happening. Eyes going wide, you abruptly pointed at the baby behind him as a stream of fresh piss shot up into the air. It wasn’t until the stream hit Matt square in his bare chest, his mouth dropping open in shock, that he realized his son was peeing on him.
“Not again !” Matt exclaimed, hurriedly focusing back on your son.
Throwing a hand over your mouth to cover your laugh, you rose from the couch and rushed over as Matt fumbled to grab a fresh diaper from beside himself in order to cover your son’s continuing stream. Struggling to fight back your amusement, you couldn’t help but find it funny that this wasn’t even the first time this had happened to him.
“The man without fear indeed,” you said, still choking back your laughter.
“What?” Matt distractedly asked.
“You,” you replied, coming to a stop beside him before lightly pushing him out of the way with your hip. “You're quite fearless to change a baby boy's diaper while repeatedly forgetting to keep him covered so you don't get peed on.”
“Well I was a little distracted,” he grumbled.
You held out a clean baby wipe towards Matt, still biting back the amused smile on your face. Matt accepted the wipe from your hand before beginning to clean off his chest.
“You know,” you began, focusing on finishing the diaper change, “for someone with heightened senses, you’d think out of the pair of us that it would be me who kept accidentally getting peed on. But no. Somehow it's always you.” 
“Hilarious,” Matt deadpanned.
“I think so,” you teased. “But why don't you jump in the shower?” you suggested, picking the baby back up into your arms when you'd finished securing a clean diaper on him. “I'm sure you don't want to smell like pee for the rest of the night.”
Matt stopped wiping at his chest, his hand dropping back to his side as his shoulders slumped. With his attention returning to you, he asked, “You love when this happens, don't you?” 
You shrugged your shoulders, still grinning. “I mean, it's kind of funny how you don't ever seem to learn,” you answered. “Because you’d think after the second or third time you’d remember the dangers of not covering him during a diaper change. Especially after that night last week.”
Matt shook his head, his expression still entirely unamused. “No, not you,” he said. He raised a hand to point a finger at the baby in your arms. “I was asking the little guy.”
Your gaze dropped down to your son before it returned to him. “Matt,” you said, once more struggling to fight down a laugh, “he's barely a month old. He can't even laugh yet. There’s no way he’s doing it for shits and giggles.”
“Uh huh,” he said, turning and making his way towards the bathroom now. “I bet that’s the real reason he always wakes up when I come home.”
Your brows jumped up onto your forehead. “To pee on you?” 
“Yes,” Matt called back over his shoulder, the hint of amusement now in his tone. “Just to pee on me.”
Grinning down at the little boy in your arms, you eyed him curiously. “Is that true?” you cooed at him. “Do you do that on purpose? Did you just wake up to pee on your dad?”
Your son only looked back up at you, his mouth opening wide in a yawn before he slowly closed his eyes again.
“Huh,” you mused, carrying the now sleepy baby back towards the bassinet. “Maybe there’s some merit behind that idea after all.”
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03jyh23 · 3 months
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— fear of the unknown || choi jongho (part two of finding our way back series)
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<series masterlist> <next>
ex-boyfriend!idol!jongho x ex-girlfriend!single-mom!reader
synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.
genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst
trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood
words: 8.1 k
reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! first of all, thank you so much for being interested in finding our way back! your support means a lot to me! i'm super excited to share this part! i know some of you've been looking forward to reading it so im happy to finally be able to give it to you! it took me a while to work on it so i hope you will enjoy it! can't wait to read your opinions!
love, monika ♡
taglist: @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA @treehouse-mouse @ateez-atiny380 @sleepy-kat-here @sndeoki @bomi-ja ♡ (if by any chance i forgotten to add someone please remind me once again)
if you wish to be tagged let me know here
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Jongho paced around the conference room, his hands shaky as he waited for the CEO and other representatives to arrive. It was the first time he had called a special meeting. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and what-ifs, making it impossible for him to sit still. Unease had settled in his stomach, churning uncomfortably with every passing second. It was a different kind of nervousness compared to what he had felt before his audition. Back then, it was a mixture of excitement and fear of the unknown. But this was entirely different. This time, he was more than just an aspiring artist. He was a father, a man who had discovered a newfound purpose in life, a purpose that was far more significant than any song or dance routine. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythmic thumping loud in his ears as he waited for the attendees to arrive. His palms were sweaty, his fingers trembling slightly as he clenched and unclenched them in an attempt to release some of the tension. As he looked around the empty conference room, he could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him. The silence of the room seemed to echo the uncertainty he was feeling, amplifying his anxiety. He was about to have a conversation that could change the course of his life, a conversation that could either bring him closer to his daughter or push him further away. He had no script, no rehearsal. All he had were his feelings, his love for his daughter, and his determination to be a part of her life. As he waited for the meeting to begin, Jongho felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation. He feared the possible outcomes, yet was eager to voice out his feelings, his intentions. 
As he paced back and forth, his mind raced with thoughts of every possible scenario. What if they didn’t believe him? What if they questioned his sincerity? What if they denied him the chance to be a part of his daughter’s life? But amidst all the doubts and fears, a small glimmer of hope remained. The hope that they would understand that they would give him a chance to prove his worth as a father. He couldn’t predict how this conversation might end. But he knew one thing for certain. He was ready to fight. Ready to fight for his right to be a father, to be a part of his daughter’s life. And with that thought, he took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared for the meeting that could change his life forever. 
After what felt like forever, the CEO entered the conference room in the company of other representatives, a cup of coffee in their hands. All of them greeted Jongho with a fond smile and one of them handed Jongho one of the cups as well. "It's nice to see you, Jongho. Should we start the meeting now?" 
"Thank you," Jongho said, accepting the coffee with a small smile. His hands were shaking slightly as he brought the cup to his lips, taking a small sip of the hot beverage. He looked down into the cup, watching as the dark liquid swirled around. Where should he start? He took a deep breath, lifting his gaze to meet the eyes of the people around the room. The friendly chit-chat and the light-hearted atmosphere were about to take a drastic turn. "I have something I need to tell you," He began, his voice quiet but steady. He knew that his confession was about to change everything. 
"Well, I really hope you do have something important to share," the CEO began with a light-hearted chuckle, breaking the tense silence that had enveloped the room. "After all, it's Friday morning, and we've all gathered here, for what I understand is an emergency meeting. Given the urgency, I'm certain that you've called us here for a matter of utmost importance." His smile was warm and encouraging, a stark contrast to the seriousness of his words. "So, why don't you go ahead and tell us, Jongho? What's going on that required such immediate attention?" 
Jongho took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each representative before finally settling on the CEO. "I called this meeting because there's something important, I need to share with you all. It's about my personal life but has significant implications for my career and ATEEZ." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Five years ago, I was in a relationship with someone very special to me, Y/N. I had to end things because of the pressures and demands of my career. What I didn't know at the time was that she was pregnant when we broke up." The room was silent, the weight of Jongho's revelation hanging heavily in the air. He continued; his voice steady but filled with emotion. "She had our daughter, Nari, and she's been raising her on her own ever since. I only found out about Nari recently, at a fan sign event where Y/N brought her. Meeting my daughter for the first time was... overwhelming." Jongho paused to let his words sink in, watching as the representatives' exchanged glances, processing the information. "I understand that this is unexpected and may complicate things, but I need you all to know that I am committed to being a father to Nari. I will not abandon my responsibilities or pretend she doesn't exist. She is my daughter, and I love her." 
The CEO's expression shifted from surprise to a more contemplative look. "Jongho, this is indeed a significant development. We need to consider the implications carefully. But first, tell us more about your relationship with Y/N. How do you see your future with her and your daughter?" 
"We both were really young when we fell in love and taking into consideration how much time has passed, it's hard for me to navigate my relationship with Nari's mom," Jongho stated. "I believe the way we parted hurt her in more than one way and I'm willing to work to gain her trust again. However, my current focus is on reconnecting with my daughter." 
The CEO sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I understand, but you need to realize the potential repercussions. The public will find out, and we must be prepared for the fallout. We're talking about an illegitimate child, Jongho. It’s going to cause a lot of trouble." 
Jongho clenched his fists, his resolve strengthening. "Nari is my daughter, and I won’t let her be treated as a scandal or a mistake. She deserves better than that. I am prepared to face any backlash if it means being a part of her life." 
One of the other representatives leaned forward, their expression more sympathetic. "We understand your position, Jongho, and we want to support you. But we need a clear plan, PR team how can we introduce Nari and Y/N to the public? How can we handle the media attention?" 
The PR manager, a professional with a calm demeanor, took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. "The key here is to control the narrative. We need to craft a heartfelt, honest statement from Jongho, explaining the situation clearly and sincerely. We should emphasize his dedication to his daughter and his desire to be a responsible father. Transparency will help us gain the public's sympathy and support." 
Another member of the PR team chimed in, "We can arrange an exclusive interview with a trusted media outlet. Jongho can share his story in his own words, highlighting his commitment to Nari. This will allow us to present the news in a positive light and address any potential questions or concerns upfront." 
The CEO nodded thoughtfully. "And what about Y/N? How does she feel about being in the public eye? Will she be willing to participate in this plan?" 
Jongho took a deep breath. "I don't want to pressure her into anything she's not comfortable with. But I believe that, with time, she will see that being open about our situation is the best way forward for all of us. I will talk to her and make sure she understands the importance of this step." 
The PR manager continued, "We should also prepare a detailed FAQ and talking points for Jongho and the rest of the team. This will ensure that everyone is on the same page and can respond consistently to any inquiries. Social media will be crucial as well. We need to monitor reactions and engage with fans to build support and understanding." 
A marketing executive added, "It might be beneficial to involve the rest of ATEEZ in this process. Their support can help reinforce the message that this is a positive development for Jongho and his family. A united front will be more compelling to the public." 
Jongho nodded, looking a bit hesitant. "There's one more thing. Only Hongjoong knows about Nari right now. The rest of the boys have no idea. I need to talk to them and explain everything before we move forward with any public announcements." 
The CEO leaned forward; his gaze intense. "Jongho, we need to move carefully. Your career and the future of ATEEZ are at stake. But we also want to see you become the father you want to be. We'll work on this strategy together, but you need to keep us informed every step of the way." 
Jongho nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination. "Thank you. I appreciate your support and understanding. I won't let you down." 
As the meeting concluded, Jongho knew that the road ahead would be challenging, but he was ready to face it with unwavering determination. He was committed to being the best father he could be for Nari, and he would do whatever it took to make things right with you. With the support of his team and his own resolve, he felt more prepared to navigate the difficult path ahead. His next step was to sit down with the rest of ATEEZ and share his story, trusting in their brotherhood and hoping for their understanding. 
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You had just finished cleaning up when you heard your phone ringing. Your heartbeat faster when you saw Jongho's name on the screen, a sight unfamiliar yet deeply desired. The night before, after Jongho left, you found it hard to sleep. You tossed and turned in your bed, replaying the entire evening. You remembered how he looked, how your heart reacted upon seeing him. It felt as if no time had passed, and your youthful love was still aflame. There was no denying the strong impact seeing Jongho had on you. Despite the years and the distance, feelings you thought you had tucked away resurfaced with a force you hadn't anticipated. You were left grappling with a flurry of emotions, from surprise to anxiety, from sorrow to a yearning you weren't ready to confront. It was as if the past had caught up with you, reminding you of what once was and what could have been. 
"Hello?" you answered the call, 
"Hi Y/N, I just wanted to let you know I finished the company meeting. Would you like to meet me for coffee?" Your heart raced in your chest at his unexpected invitation, leaving you momentarily speechless. 
"Sure, Jongho. That sounds nice," you finally responded, managing to maintain a steady voice. 
"Great, can I come and pick you up in thirty minutes?" 
"Sure, I'll be ready," you replied, a wave of excitement washing over you. 
As you ended the call, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Part of you was excited at the prospect of seeing Jongho again, eager to spend more time with him. But another part of you was filled with uncertainty, unsure of what this meeting meant for your relationship and where things would go from here. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. You were acutely aware that a lot could change in five years. Jongho was no longer the aspiring artist who was still finding his way, but a worldwide superstar, a member of a successful group. His popularity, his financial status - everything had changed. He was not your Jongho anymore. He wasn't the same boy you fell in love with. He had become a man, a man you wanted to get to know, to be close to. You knew it wasn't going to be easy. But you had changed too. You had matured, become less spontaneous and, perhaps, less happy along the way? You had neglected yourself, focusing solely on your daughter. You weren't unhappy, not at all, Nari was your purpose in life. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost a part of yourself in the process of becoming a mother. 
You quickly freshened up, opting for a casual outfit that struck the perfect balance between comfort and style. With your heart pounding in your chest, you made your way out of the building. You sat down on a bench, scanning your surroundings for Jongho, but there was no sign of him. You started to grow impatient, shaking your legs as a distraction. It was a struggle to calm your racing heart. You had to repeatedly remind yourself that you were a mother first, an individual second. You had to remember that you were doing this for your daughter's sake. You couldn't selfishly rush Jongho back into your life, even if every fiber of your being yearned for him, even if your greatest dream was to create a family with him. For now, your feelings need to be pushed back. You needed your mind to stay clear, to fight with yourself to remain a responsible adult, a mother who wouldn't let emotions cloud her vision. Preferably, you would have wanted to just run into Jongho's arms and explore the feelings, the love. And if needed, beg him to love you again. But you couldn't. Not now. As much as you wanted to give in to your feelings, you knew that it wouldn't be fair to Nari. You didn't want to risk her getting hurt if things didn't work out with Jongho. So, you buried your feelings deep inside, vowing to focus on your daughter and her needs. 
When finally, Jongho arrived, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves as you caught sight of him. He looked just as handsome as ever, his warm smile sending a wave of warmth through you 
"Hey," he greeted you, his voice soft and gentle. "You look beautiful." 
"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look great too." As you exchanged pleasantries, a familiar warmth enveloped you, easing the tension that had gripped your nerves moments earlier. Jongho's presence felt reassuring, grounding you in the midst of your swirling emotions. 
"Shall we?" Jongho gestured towards the café where you met him the night before, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. With a nod, you fell into step beside him. 
Settling into a cozy corner of the café, you found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence, punctuated by shared smiles and stolen glances. It felt surreal, being in Jongho's presence once again, yet undeniably right. 
As a waitress brought your orders, you couldn't help but smile upon seeing Jongho's order. He caught your gaze, a question in his eyes as you smiled even wider. "What?" he asked. 
"It's just... your order hasn't changed at all," you responded. Jongho's heart softened, he couldn't hide his happiness that after all these years, you still remembered this small detail about him. 
Jongho's chuckle filled the air, "Some things never change, huh?" he remarked, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of amusement and affection. As he took a sip of his favorite drink, you couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of the moment—the way his smile illuminated the space between you, bridging the years that had stretched thin with absence. 
"So, how did the meeting go? You seem to be at ease," you asked as you also took a sip of your warm drink. 
Jongho took a deep breath, his gaze falling to his coffee cup before meeting your eyes again. "The meeting... it went well, better than I expected." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "I was nervous, of course. I didn't know how they would react. But they were understanding. They want to support me." He paused again, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There's a lot to consider, a lot of potential challenges ahead. But I feel... hopeful." He gave you a small, sincere smile, his eyes filled with determination. "They would like to make it public as soon as possible," Jongho added, "It's the best way to control the narrative so I wanted to ask you, how do you feel about it?" Jongho's words caught you off guard. You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts before replying. You understood the importance of controlling the narrative, especially given Jongho's status. 
"That's... a lot to take in, Jongho. I understand why the company wants to move quickly, but I feel it’s too soon," you expressed, your voice laced with concern. 
Jongho listened attentively, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. "You need to know that it’s crucial that we let the world know. If the media finds out sooner than we release a statement, it can get ugly," he explained, his tone serious. 
"I just want you to focus on meeting Nari first," you countered, your priority clear in your mind. Only a day had passed since Jongho found out about Nari's existence, and you felt like everything was spiraling out of your control. You wanted him in your lives, you did, but the way things were evolving felt like you were losing control and it made you panic. As silly as it sounds, you hadn't considered the fact that Jongho's popularity would inevitably put a spotlight on your daughter, too. This situation was more complex than you had anticipated, a factor you hadn't considered at first. What if you go public and within a few weeks, Jongho grows tired of being a father? What if he leaves? What if Nari becomes too much for him to handle? What if reality falls short of his expectations? So many questions swirled in your mind, yet answers remained elusive. 
"I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you, but you need to understand that it’s best for us if we go public now." Jongho's voice pulled you from your thoughts. ''If we do, I won’t have to worry about getting caught spending time with her, and I'll be at ease." He reasoned; his voice laced with a hint of urgency. 
"Then why do I feel like you are pushing me?" You snapped; the frustration clear in your voice. "Look, you can't just come into our lives and expect me to go along with everything the company or you want. It's not that simple." 
Jongho looked taken aback by your sudden outburst. He ran a hand through his hair, a clear sign of his stress. "I'm... I'm sorry if it feels that way," he stammered out, his eyes filled with regret. "That wasn't my intention. I just... I just thought it would be best for us, for Nari. But you're right, I should have taken your feelings into consideration too." 
"Do you even realize how this will affect her?" You finally voiced out the concern that had been eating at you. "Are you aware of the fact that by stepping into our lives, everything will change?" Your voice was steady, but the worry was evident in your eyes. "There will be media scrutiny, pressure, and unwanted attention. Can you assure me that you are ready for all of this? Can you assure me that you are ready to protect Nari from all of it?" You both sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Jongho looked conflicted, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processed your words.  
After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand your concerns," Jongho began, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "And I won't pretend that I have all the answers. But what I can assure you is that I'm ready to face whatever comes our way. I am ready to protect Nari, to be there for her, no matter what." His words hung heavy in the silence that followed, a testament to his sincerity and resolve. You could see the determination in his eyes, the unwavering will that had always defined Jongho. It gave you a glimmer of hope, a small but still hope. 
"Jongho, I appreciate your willingness, and I don't want you to feel like I'm cutting your wings, but you don't know Nari at all. How can you be so sure you want to be her father?" 
Jongho's face tightened, a mixture of frustration and desperation evident in his expression. "How can you ask me that?" he said, his voice low but intense. "She's, my daughter. I don't have to know everything about her to want to be there for her. I want to get to know her, to be a part of her life, to love her like a father should." 
You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to find the right words. "Jongho, it's not that simple. Being a father is more than just a title. It means being there for her every day, through the good and the bad. It means understanding her needs, her fears, her dreams. It's a lifetime commitment, not something you can just jump into because you feel guilty or responsible." 
Jongho listened attentively, a mixture of emotions playing on his face. "I understand your concerns," he said solemnly. "I know it's not simple. But I am committed to this. I don't just want to be a father in name, I want to be a father in every sense of the word. And I am ready to make that lifetime commitment." His words echoed in your mind; you felt his sincerity. You looked at him, your eyes searching for the truth. And what you saw in his gaze was not just determination, but also a deep sense of resolve.  
"Jongho, I've been doing this on my own for the past four years. Please, try to put yourself in my position. The life I've known is about to change drastically," you looked him in the eyes, your heart nervously pounding in your chest. 
Jongho was silent for a moment, his gaze locked with yours. "I understand, and I'm sorry if I've been insensitive. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," he said, "But I want you to know that I'm committed to being there for Nari, and for you, no matter what." 
"No matter what?" you sighed. "Jongho, I've heard that before," you stated, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I heard it five years ago. I heard it right at the very beginning that you would be there for me no matter what. And you know what you did? You gave up." You didn't know what came over you to say those words. Was it fear? Was it a lack of trust? You knew it was a low blow, and you knew that five years ago the breakup was inevitable, that your relationship was doomed from the start. 
Jongho's expression softened, regret evident in his eyes as he listened to your words. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently placed it on yours. "I understand your frustration," he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I know I've made a mistake, and I can't change the past. But I can promise you that I'm committed to doing right by you and Nari now and in the future." 
Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words. He was trying, you could see that. But it was hard to let go of the past hurt and the fear of the unknown. Still, you knew you had to give him the opportunity to prove himself. 
"I appreciate your words, Jongho," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "But actions speak louder than words. I need you to show me that you're serious about this." 
His grip tightened slightly around your hand, "I understand," he said, determination shining in his eyes. "And I will, I promise." 
"Alright," you uttered in a gentle, almost whisper-like tone. "We have a lot to figure out, but I appreciate your commitment and I hope you will keep your promises." 
"Thank you for giving me a chance," Jongho stated, as he gently squeezed your hand. In the whirlwind of emotions, you hadn't even noticed his touch, but now it sent shivers down your spine. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as you looked into his earnest eyes, the intensity of his gaze stirring something deep within you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the cafe around you buzzed with activity, yet in that small bubble you shared, it felt like time had slowed down. You found yourself captivated by the sincerity in Jongho's eyes, the determination to right the wrongs of the past clear in his touch. "I mean it, Y/N," he continued softly, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. "I want to make things right." His words hung in the air, filled with hope. You felt a lump form in your throat, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of getting hurt again. Yet, as you looked at Jongho, you saw a flicker of the boy you had once loved, now a man ready to fight for a second chance. 
Allowing a moment of vulnerability, you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to hang in the air between you and Jongho, a quiet plea in the midst of the swirling emotions. Your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and hope reflecting in your gaze. "Please," you found yourself saying again, the word almost lost in the silence that had fallen over the room. "Please be patient with me." 
Jongho nodded understandingly, his gaze softening as he took in your words. "I understand," he responded, his voice gentle. "I'll be patient. We can take all the time you need." The warmth of his hand in yours was comforting, and despite the turmoil of emotions inside you, it brought a sense of familiarity and reassurance.
His understanding and patience gave you a glimmer of hope, a small but significant comfort in the turmoil of emotions you were feeling. "I appreciate that," you said, your voice steadier now. You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I need time to adjust to this... to everything. And I need you to understand that." 
Jongho nodded again, his gaze never leaving yours. "I do understand," he replied earnestly. "And I promise to respect your boundaries and give you all the time you need." His words, spoken with such sincerity, eased the tension in your shoulders. His reassurance brought a fleeting sense of relief, yet beneath it lingered a complex tapestry of emotions—doubt, longing, and a cautious hope for what the future might hold. You knew this journey would be fraught with challenges, uncertainties, and moments of vulnerability. But in that shared moment of understanding with Jongho, you found a fragile yet resilient thread to hold onto as you navigated the path ahead together. 
You gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," you said softly. 
"I understand it might be a challenging situation for you. However, if you would allow it, I'd appreciate the chance to see Nari soon," he requested, his voice maintaining a gentle and understanding tone throughout. 
The thought of Jongho spending time with Nari brought a mix of emotions. There was fear, of course, but also a spark of hope. After a moment of silence, you finally spoke. "That sounds like a good idea," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "We can start with a short visit, see how she reacts, and then decide the next step." 
Jongho took a deep breath before speaking again. "Should I bring something, when I come to meet her?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "I could maybe bring her some ATEEZ related things?" 
You looked up at him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "In that case, just bring Wooyoung with you," you joked, your eyes sparkling with humor. 
Jongho chuckled softly at your playful jab, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "I'll see what I can do," he replied with a teasing grin, playing along with your humor. The tension that had gripped the room moments ago seemed to ease, replaced by a light-hearted exchange that offered a brief reprieve from the weighty conversation. You appreciated the way Jongho could effortlessly lighten the mood, even in the midst of discussing serious matters. It reminded you of the connection you once shared, a bond that still held a spark of warmth and familiarity despite the passage of time. 
After a moment, Jongho's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sincerity. "On a serious note, though," he began, his voice gentle yet earnest, "is there anything specific she likes? I want to make a good impression." You appreciated his thoughtfulness and the genuine effort he was putting into getting to know Nari. It reassured you that he was serious about being a part of her life, despite the uncertainties that lingered between you. 
"Well," you started, "she loves music," a smile tugging at your lips as you added, "just like her dad. " Jongho smiled right back at you hearing you finally referring to him as Nari’s dad. "Anything related to ATEEZ would definitely catch her attention. Oh, and she's a big fan of animals, especially puppies." 
Jongho nodded thoughtfully, mentally noting down your suggestions. "Got it. ATEEZ merchandise and maybe something with a puppy theme," he mused with a smile. "I'll make sure to pick out something special for her." 
"But please, for the love of God, don't bring her a real puppy," you interjected with a laugh, shaking your head at the thought of adding a pet to your already hectic life. 
Jongho chuckled warmly, relieved at the lighthearted moment amidst the weighty conversation. "Noted," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "No live animals. I promise." 
The tension seemed to ease between you both, replaced by a comfortable silence. You couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Jongho. Despite the complexities and challenges ahead, his genuine effort to connect with Nari filled you with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful—for Nari, for you, and for Jongho. 
"I want this to go well. I want Nari to feel comfortable around me," Jongho expressed earnestly, his voice tinged with determination and a hint of nervousness. 
"Nari is a social butterfly; she likes people," you stated with a fond smile, pride evident in your voice as you talked about your daughter. "I’m sure she will feel comfortable," you assured him. "Just be yourself and take it one step at a time." 
Jongho listened attentively, nodding as he took in your words. "I'll do my best," he replied sincerely, a mix of determination and nervousness in his expression. He appreciated your reassurance and advice, knowing how crucial it was to approach this meeting with patience and understanding. "I want to make a good impression on her," he added softly, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. Deep down, he felt the weight of responsibility as he prepared to meet his daughter for the first time. He wanted nothing more than for Nari to accept him into her life, and he knew he had to tread carefully to earn her trust. 
You smiled warmly at him, grateful for his genuine effort. "I'm sure you will," you encouraged, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "Just follow her lead, and let things unfold naturally." 
With a nod, Jongho took a deep breath, steeling himself for the momentous occasion ahead. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity," he said earnestly, his gratitude evident in his voice. 
"Maybe you could come around the day after tomorrow?" you asked him. 
Jongho seemed taken aback by the sudden invitation but quickly recovered. "Of course," he agreed a soft smile on his lips. "I'd love to spend some time with Nari. And... with you," he added, a hint of hesitation in his voice. 
Your eyes grew bigger with his words, and you suddenly pulled your hand away from his touch. Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions. You felt a flutter in your stomach, but you pushed it down. Now was not the time for such feelings. Jongho's eyes widened slightly at your sudden withdrawal, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He quickly masked his reaction, a practiced ease settling over him. "Good. It's settled then. We'll see you the day after tomorrow," you said, the finality in your voice hiding the whirlpool of emotions inside you. Caught off guard by Jongho's words and by the way you had reacted to them, you quickly gathered your thoughts. Many emotions swirled inside you, yet you knew you couldn't afford to dwell on them yet. With a soft sigh, you looked at Jongho, your eyes reflecting a complex mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a hint of something else. "But for now, I have to go," you finally said, your voice laced with a touch of regret. Jongho's eyes widened slightly at the abrupt change in topic, but he didn't interrupt. "There are still so many things I need to take care of. Mom duties call," you added with a small, somewhat forced, chuckle. 
"Can I walk you back to your apartment?" Jongho offered, 
"No!" you responded quickly, the urgency in your voice surprising even yourself. Jongho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your sudden outburst. He was taken aback, but he tried not to show it. You hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but the thought of Jongho walking you back to your apartment was something you weren't ready for yet. After your abrupt refusal, the space between you fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel Jongho's gaze on you, filled with confusion and concern, but you kept your eyes trained on your hands, nervously fidgeting in your lap. 
"Alright," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. Jongho simply nodded, understanding but clearly disappointed. "If that's what you want." You nodded, avoiding his gaze. The knot in your stomach tightened as you saw the understanding but clearly disappointed look on his face. You wanted to say something, anything really, to sweep the disappointed look from his face, but the words wouldn't form in your mind. So, you got up from your chair, somewhat awkwardly, and smiled at him, trying hard for the smile to seem real. "I'll see you soon," you said and with that, you hurried to the door. As you left the cafe, leaving Jongho utterly confused and disappointed, a heavy lump formed in your throat, and a flurry of mixed emotions swirled within your heart. 
In your haste to leave the café, you didn't realize you had left your phone behind on the table. Your mind was a whirl of thoughts, emotions bombarding your senses as you made your way out of the café, walking down the street, lost in your own world. The crowd around you seemed to blur into the background as your thoughts consumed you, making you oblivious to the fact that you had left your device behind. Meanwhile, back at the café, Jongho was still sitting at the table, lost in his own sea of emotions. The way you had abruptly declined his offer to walk you home, storming out of the cafe without a second glance, played heavily on Jongho's mind. He sat there, his mind processing the conversation, the weight of your words still hanging in the air. Jongho couldn't help but analyze his words. Was it possible that you were uncomfortable with him implying that he wanted to spend time with you? He pondered, his mind racing with uncertainty. Had it been wrong for him to hope that you two could rebuild what once was? The questions left him feeling uneasy and full of doubt. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the phone you had left behind until it started to ring. The sudden noise startled him, his heart pounding quickly in his chest as he glanced down at the source of the sound. Seeing your phone lying on the table, he reached out and grabbed it with a sense of urgency. The ringing seemed unusually loud in the quiet café, each ring amplifying the tension he was already feeling. He swiftly picked the phone up, a sense of anxiety washing over him, his eyes instinctively glanced at the caller ID… Hyunwoo?
Many thoughts spun through his mind like a whirlwind. Who was this Hyunwoo? Was he a friend, a relative, or someone closer to you? The possibility that gnawed at him the most was, were you in a relationship with him? The question echoed in his mind, each repetition adding to his anxiety. He tried to dismiss the thoughts, to tell himself he was overthinking, but they were like persistent intruders, refusing to leave. The unanswered call, the ringing that seemed to grow exponentially louder with each passing second, felt like it was taunting him. His palms were sweaty, his heart racing in his chest like a drum. The name 'Hyunwoo' seemed to be etched in his mind, each blink imprinting it deeper. His gaze fell on the phone again, the screen now dark, the call ended. But the echo of the ringtone still seemed to linger in the air, a haunting reminder of the question that had now taken root in his mind. Jongho was left sitting there, alone in the silence of the cafe, the weight of the unanswered call and the unknown identity of this Hyunwoo pressing down on him. The sense of unease was wrapping around him like a shroud. As much as he tried, he couldn't shake off the thought of you being in a relationship with another man. It was a possibility he hadn't considered, and it filled him with a dread he couldn't explain. Just as Jongho was caught up in his thoughts, your phone screen lit up again. This time, it was a text message notification. Despite his better judgment, Jongho couldn't help but glance at the screen. The message preview displayed on the lock screen,
Hyunwoo: hi love! could you please call me back asap? can’t wait to see you today!
The text message hit Jongho like a punch to the gut. The words hi love and can't wait to see you today echoed in his mind, each phrase laced with an intimacy that confirmed his worst fears. Hyunwoo wasn't just a friend or a relative; he was someone special to you. The realization struck Jongho hard, sending a wave of mixed emotions crashing over him. He felt a sharp pang of jealousy, but also confusion and sadness. He had no right to feel this way, he reminded himself. You were entitled to your own life, and your own relationships. But knowing this didn't make the pain any less real. As he sat there, staring at the phone, a part of him wanted to call Hyunwoo back, to hear his voice and understand more about the man who seemed to hold such a significant place in your life. But he knew that would be wrong. This wasn't his business, and it wouldn't help the situation.
Instead, he took a deep breath and decided to focus on what he could do. You had left your phone behind, and that was the immediate issue that needed solving. He had to find you and return your phone. Determined to set aside his own feelings for now, Jongho stood up and left the café. He scanned the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd. As Jongho walked down the street, your phone safely in his pocket, his mind raced with an onslaught of thoughts and emotions. He chastised himself for not asking sooner if you were seeing someone. How could he have been so naive? You were an attractive, remarkable woman—of course, there was a chance someone else had captured your heart during the years you were apart. The idea of you being in love with someone else felt like a knife twisting in his chest. Was he foolish to think you could rekindle what you once had? The possibility of being a family had seemed so tangible just moments ago. Now, the reality of Hyunwoo's message loomed over him, threatening to shatter that dream. Jongho's thoughts spiraled. He questioned if your heart had moved on if you had found solace in someone else's arms. How could you not, after all these years? Life doesn't stand still, and he had to confront the painful possibility that you might have found happiness without him. Jongho had held onto the hope that one day, you could rebuild what was lost. But now, doubt gnawed at him. Was it too late? With each step, the questions grew louder. The image of Hyunwoo's affectionate message replayed in his mind, fueling his insecurity. Jongho needed answers. He had to know if there was still a chance for the two of you, or if he was holding onto a dream that had long since slipped away. Finally, as he turned the last corner that led directly to your apartment complex, he saw you. You were heading towards a small, colorful playground. Relief and anxiety washed over him in equal measure. He called out your name, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and hope.
You turned, surprise and confusion flickering across your face as you saw him approaching. Jongho reached you, slightly out of breath, and pulled your phone from his pocket, handing it to you. "You left this at the café," he said, trying to steady his voice.
"Oh," you breathed out, taking the phone from him. "Thank you." You glanced down at the device, momentarily distracted, before looking back up at Jongho. "I didn't even realize..."
He nodded, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to ask you."
You looked at him, a hint of worry in your eyes. "What is it?"
"Mommy!" Your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of your daughter's voice. Turning, you saw Nari running towards you from the playground, her face lit up with joy. It was a sight that always warmed your heart,
"Sweetie," you greeted, bending down to scoop her up into your arms. Nari wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling happily. "Were you waiting for mommy?" you asked her, your voice soft and filled with warmth. As you looked around the playground, your eyes landed on your mom who was standing a little distance away, waving at you.
"Yes, mommy!" Nari replied excitedly. Jongho watched the tender scene unfold before him, his heart aching with a longing he tried to suppress. Despite the questions swirling in his mind, he couldn't help but feel a pang of affection as he saw you with your daughter. The sight of you two together was beautiful, yet it filled him with a bittersweet emotion. He yearned to be a part of it, to share in the joy and laughter.
As Nari looked over your shoulder, her eyes widened in recognition a bright smile spreading across her face. "Mommy, it's Uncle Jongho!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. She wriggled out of your arms and ran towards Jongho, her little arms outstretched.
Jongho, taken aback but pleasantly surprised, crouched down to her level, taking her in his arms. "Hey, Nari," he greeted, his voice soft.
"What are you doing here? Did you miss me?" She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement and curiosity.
Jongho chuckled softly at her question. "Of course, I missed you," he replied, playing along with her innocent curiosity.
"Will you play with me?" she asked, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes glimmering as she looked up at him. Jongho looked at you, awaiting your response.
"Actually, sweetheart, Uncle Jongho was just leaving. But he'll come to play with you soon, alright?"
Nari's eyes lit up at the promise of a future playdate. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement. "Promise?"
Jongho nodded, managing a small smile despite the turmoil inside him. "I promise, Nari." His eyes met yours again, the intensity of his gaze reflecting his determination to keep his word.
Nari giggled, obviously pleased. "Okay! I will wait for you, Uncle Jongho!" After Nari's giggle subsided, Jongho gently set her back on her feet, giving her a warm smile. Nari beamed back at him, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Remember," she said in a voice full of excitement, "you can bring Uncle Wooyoung with you!"
Her innocent request brought a genuine chuckle from Jongho, he nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do about that," he replied playfully.
"Me and Grandma made cookies for Uncle Wooyoung!" she stated proudly, her smile growing even wider. "I want to give him my cookies!" Her words were filled with such joy and anticipation that it was contagious. You couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.
The way Nari's face lit up at the thought of giving cookies to Uncle Wooyoung touched your heart. "That's very sweet of you, Nari," you replied, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'm sure Uncle Wooyoung will love your cookies."
Jongho looked at Nari, his heart filling with warmth at her innocent excitement. "And I'm sure they're the best cookies in the whole world," he added, earning a delighted giggle from Nari.
Nari was quick to respond. "I have them in my backpack!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement. Before Jongho could react, she turned on her heel and dashed off towards her grandmother. Jongho watched her, his eyes never leaving her. He saw her reach her grandmother and point to her backpack. The older woman bent down and handed the small backpack to Nari, who eagerly began to rummage through it. After a moment, she pulled out a small purple box and turned back to face Jongho, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. With the box clutched tightly in her hands, she started running back towards him.
With the box tightly held in her small hands, Nari hurried back to Jongho, a wide smile on her face. "Here, Uncle Jongho!" she exclaimed, holding out the box to him. "These are the cookies!"
Jongho accepted the box with a soft smile, his heart warming at the innocent gesture. "Thank you, Nari," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm sure Uncle Wooyoung will love them."
"Promise you'll give them to him?" Nari asked, her eyes wide with hope.
Jongho nodded, meeting her earnest gaze with a gentle smile. "I promise, Nari." With that, he stood up, sharing a last glance with you, "I think it's time for me to leave," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. He looked at you and then at Nari, his gaze lingering on her cheerful face. There was a hint of regret in his eyes, a silent wish that he could stay longer, and be a part of this world that you and Nari shared. But he knew he had to respect your boundaries and give you the space and time you needed. So, with a heavy heart, he turned to leave, his steps slow and reluctant.
Before he could turn away completely, Nari's voice stopped him. "Bye, Uncle Jongho!" she called out, waving at him. "Don't forget the cookies!" Her innocent reminder brought a small smile to his face, momentarily easing the heaviness in his heart.
"I won't, Nari," he promised, waving back at her. Then, with a final glance at you, he walked away, his figure gradually disappearing into the crowd.
As you watched him leave, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was relief, yes, but also a strange sense of loss, a lingering sadness that surprised you. Despite the complexities and challenges ahead, Jongho's genuine effort to connect with Nari stirred a hopeful spark in your heart. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful.
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pickingupmymercedes · 5 months
Text
When I get to meet you - Lewis Hamilton
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Sequel to Maybe in another life
Alternative part 2: I'd like to believe
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, might make you emotional
wordcount: +1K
a/n: Getting to see into their future. It's been 10 years from that first letter.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
______________________________________________________________
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the room, a gentle counterpoint to the quiet scrape of Lewis' pen against paper. Y/N found him bathed in the soft glow coming from the window of their home office, hunched over the desk. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a muscle in his jaw clenched tight. Even in the dim light, the dark circles under his eyes were prominent.
"Hey," she murmured, placing a steaming mug and a plate with a few croissants beside him. "Couldn't sleep too?"
He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a tired smile softened his face. "Couldn't get comfortable" he admitted, his voice raspy. "Just... writing."
Y/N knew exactly what he was writing. On the 24th of November every year, the anniversary of the day their child was supposed to be born, he wrote a letter. A letter filled with whispered apologies, unfulfilled wishes, whispered dreams and a love that kept on growing.
"Ten years," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He nodded, his gaze going to her eyes, the only ones able to calm the storm brewing in him. "Double digits. Can you believe it?"
The pain in his voice was a familiar ache. It was a day that always ripped open the scabbed wound of their past, a stark reminder of what could have been.
Y/N sank onto the edge of the desk, the warmth of the mug seeping into her chilled hands as she nudged the plate of goodies his way "Brought you something sweet" she said, gesturing to the croissants "to make the day a bit less bitter."
He managed a weak smile. "Thank you, love" He took a sip of his coffee, the steam swirling around his face. "I just wish..." he trailed off, the words catching in his throat.
Y/N reached out, her hand gently squeezing his. "I know, Lew" she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I wish things were different too."
She cast a glance around the room, her gaze landing on a stuffed animal nestled on the armchair opposite them – a well-loved teddy bear, its fur matted with years of imaginary adventures. "It feels harder today, doesn't it? Seeing their toys everywhere..."
Lewis nodded, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Each misplaced Lego, each forgotten plushie, a fresh reminder of the child who could have played with the toy – a constant echoes of what-ifs.
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their shared grief a familiar burden. Then, Y/N spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't blame you, Lewis. I never did.” She paused, her gaze searching for his. “And I don't blame myself, not anymore"
Tears welled up in Lewis's own eyes. “I should’ve been with you through that.” Y/N reached out, her hand hovering over his for a moment before gently squeezing it.
There was a heavy silence between them, thick with unspoken grief and a shared yearning.
"Do you ever wonder?" Y/N broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "What would it have been like?"
Lewis let out a shaky breath. "Every day," he confessed. "How would it be to have them filling the house with endless questions? Or maybe a quiet observer, taking it all in with big curious eyes?"
He squeezed her hand, his eyes reflecting a pain that mirrored her own. "Maybe they would have loved racing, just like me... or maybe they would have had a different passion."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, blurring the image of the empty chair across from them. "We'll never know" she whispered; her voice choked with emotion. "But one thing's for sure…"
She looked into his eyes, a fierce love burning within them. "They’re still loved. So incredibly loved."
______________________________________________________________
My little one,
Ten years old, huh? Double digits already!
By now, I imagine you'd be a ball of energy, racing around the house, making everyone laugh and maybe tripping over a few toys along the way.
The truth is, sweetheart – like I’ve told you so many times already – I never got to meet you.
You were just a dream taking shape in your mama's heart, before it all went dark. It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have happened. And I'll, forever, carry a piece of guilt with me.
When your mama first told me about you, about the tiny miracle growing inside her, half her and half me, the world spun a little. Back then, all I knew was racing, the roar of the crowd, pushing a car to its limits.
I wasn’t the man I was supposed to be. The man your grandpa raised me to be.
I'm forever in debt to your mama and you for that.
Finding her after that wasn't easy, you see. It felt like chasing shadows, following whispers and rumors, each dead-end chipping away at a already fragile hope.
But then I finally did and I was a mess.
Words seemed to fail me, all apologies and regret feeling hollow and empty. So, I just… stayed.
It was all I could do. The best I could do.
I offered her a shoulder to cry on, a quiet space for her grief to settle.
For a long time, that's all we were – two people bound by a loss so deep it attempted to swallow us hole. We tried to move on, to find solace elsewhere. But nothing fit. The world felt muted without you, my little one.
For me, the roar of the crowd on race day used to be a symphony of excitement, but then it just echoed the hollowness within.
Eventually, your mama let me back in, little by little. A dance of unspoken emotions. We'd have dinner together, comfortable silences punctuated by the clinking of silverware. We'd watch movies, neither of us really paying attention, just finding a strange comfort in each other's presence.
Sometimes, late at night, we'd talk about you. She'd share her dreams, the little nursery decorated with soft colors, the tiny clothes she could never buy. And I , I'd share my fears, the image of a tiny hand gripping my finger, the echo of a giggle that never came.
And somewhere along the line, the shared grief turned into something more. We found comfort in each other. We learned to smile again, not forgetting the ache in our hearts, but acknowledging the space for something new to grow.
We had your brother and sister, two beautiful souls who brought laughter back into our lives. They know about you, sweetheart. We tell them stories about the big brother or sister they never met, the firecracker who would have made everything a little brighter.
Your sister loves dinosaurs and wants to be a paleontologist when she grows up. She has this wild imagination, and sometimes, I swear I can see a flicker of you in her mischievous grin. Your brother, on the other hand, is a bookworm, with a nose always buried in a story. He's quiet and thoughtful, just like your mama used to be before the world dimmed her light.
Sometimes, when I look at them, I can't help but wonder what you would have been like.
Would you have been the adventurous one, dragging your siblings on wild adventures? Or maybe the creative one, filling the house with drawings and stories? Maybe you would have loved racing, or perhaps you would have had a knack for Legos and inventing machines.
The truth is, I don't know. And that's the hardest part. Missing someone you never met, grieving a life that could have been.
But although we never got to hold you, never got to see your first smile, or hear your first giggle, you left a mark on our hearts, little one. You made me a better man.
You taught me the true meaning of love, a love that transcends life and loss, a love that finds solace in shared memories and the promise of a future built without forgetting what could have been.
I need you to know that you're loved. Always have been, always will be. You may be a missing piece on our incomplete puzzle, but the memory of you makes our family whole.
There are moments, especially on days like today, when the ache feels sharper, a reminder of the path not taken. But even in those moments, sweetheart, you are a source of strength.
Knowing that you existed, even for that brief flicker of time, showed me a different side of myself, a capacity for love I never knew existed. It made me yearn for so much more beyond what I could see, a life filled with the messy joy of parenthood, the sleepless nights, the scraped knees and skinned elbows.
Because of you, I became a better driver too. Pushing myself further, chasing excellence with more determination. But more importantly, I became a better person.
I learned empathy, the ability to hold space for another's pain, to offer a silent understanding when words fail.
I imagine you'd be proud of your mama too. She's incredibly strong, sweetheart.
You know, the grief never truly leaves you, it becomes a part of who you are, but she found a way to carry it with grace.
She built a successful career in fashion, a haven for herself and your siblings. And sometimes, late at night, when the world is quiet and she’s wide awake with her newest project, I see the fire in her eyes, a mischievous glint that to this day still steals my heart.
I believe you’d have that in you. Like your sibling do.
We talk about you often, you see. It’s not a sad thing, but a way of keeping your memory alive. We share stories, even the ones tinged with sadness, because they are all part of who you are.
We celebrate your birthday every year with a small cake. This year we’ll be having ten candles flickering light.
It's a quiet celebration, filled more with love than with fanfare, but I know you'd feel it, little one, the warmth that fills the room. I truly hope you do.
One day, when it's my time, maybe I'll finally get to meet you. We can race across a field of stars, you with your boundless energy and me, a little wiser, a lot less scared.
We can explore the cosmos together, you asking endless questions, your curiosity a supernova lighting up the universe. And maybe, just maybe, you'll forgive me for all of my mistakes, the things we never got to do, all the milestones I never got to witness.
Until then, my little firecracker, my eldest, know that you'll forever hold a special place in our hearts.
You are, forever, the love that transcends loss and the memory that burns bright.
Happy birthday, sweetheart.
With all my love,
Dad.
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28
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worksby-d · 1 year
Note
Could you write something about dad's bestfriend!Andy comforting reader after telling her parents they're together didn't go well?
YEP 🫡
Pairing: dad’s best friend!Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Summary: Exactly what the request says ✨
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Warnings: Age gap, comfort sex, 18+
Word count: ~1,300
a/n: Look at me sloooowly clearing out my inbox recently 🤭 Two years late, but dbf!Andy never goes out of style amirite girlies! Not sure if this was maybe supposed to tie in with a series back then, it could probably be read as part of A Great Mentor if so ☝️ 
─── ✧
Andy has tried his best to keep you in good spirits throughout the past week. And it’s worked for the most part. You’ve been grateful to be able to spend so much time with him, finally free of the weight keeping your relationship a secret was beginning to put on you. 
But as soon as you have a moment alone or a second without Andy purposely distracting you, you feel like shit deep down, unable to think about anything but the fact that your parents still aren’t talking to you or him.
You've been waiting for a call, or at least a text... Anything.
He has you cuddled next to him tonight as you watch a movie together, but your mind is racing, causing your heart to do the same, panic beginning to set in from dwelling on your negative thoughts.
You lean closer against his side, closing your eyes as you try to relax, but you need to be even closer.
Mustering some energy, you gently and wordlessly move so you’re straddling him, wrapping your arms around him like a koala. His arms hug around you tightly without any questions, and you melt against him, nestling your face against his neck. 
He knows you’ve had a hard couple days. He’s pressing soft kisses to the side of your face and your shoulder, and rubbing your back. 
“I love you,” he whispers, not missing the chance to reassure you. 
“You still love me?” You ask, almost inaudibly, voice muffled as you speak against the fabric of his shirt covering his shoulder. 
“I love you extra,” he says, knowing you need it. “I know this week was hard for you. I’m sorry.”
“After everything?” You continue to press.
“Of course…” His heart breaks. “You didn’t do anything wrong, angel.”
You’d beg to differ right now.
“I feel like I did everything wrong and dragged you with me while I did it.”
He does his best not to laugh at your dramatics. “No one did anything wrong. If I could fix everything right now, I would. But it’ll just take time.”
“I know,” you murmur. You have no choice, your voice would crack if you spoke any louder. “I love you, too.”
He does what he’s best at – Holding you and quieting the nerves that were overtaking you moments ago. 
“I wish I would have been there with you,” he speaks up softly. 
You insisted on breaking it to your parents alone. 
“I don’t,” you assure him with a faint scoff. You find it in you to joke a little bit. “My dad was so angry. I don’t know if you would have lived to tell about it.”
“I know,” he chuckles. “I just...” His voice trails off. He lets it go for now, no use in focusing on what ifs. “Are you ready for bed? We can go upstairs.”
“Not yet,” you say quickly. “Can you just hold me here for a little longer?” You add more quietly, comfortable in his embrace like this. “Please.”
“Yeah, baby.”
─── ✧
When he senses you falling asleep in his arms, he makes the decision for you. The calmest you’ve been the last couple days is when you’re sleeping, so he knows your slow breathing and relaxed weight on top of him means you’ve dozed off. 
He hates to do it, but he carefully pushes off the couch to sit up straighter. He holds you tighter as you begin to wake back up, not wanting you to have forgotten where you are and nearly fall out of his arms. 
“You fell asleep,” he whispers. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Letting out a yawn, you nod sleepily and climb off him. He keeps an arm around your waist to help you up the steps and toward his bedroom.
As he lays you on the bed, you hold your arms around his neck, bringing him down with you. 
“Andy,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his.
Your breath is warm against his lips and he can never resist you. His lips press against yours in a slow kiss, climbing into bed with you. A content sigh escapes him as he gives in completely.
Sharing deep and languid kisses, you subtly roll your body against his, once again plagued by the feeling of needing to be even closer. He doesn’t notice until your hands begin to wander, slipping down to the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants. 
He pauses, reluctantly pulling away from you, just enough to peer down at you. 
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he says quietly. 
If it’s possible to be too considerate, that’s what Andy Barber is. 
You refrain from rolling your eyes. “It’s not taking advantage if I’m asking for it,” you joke, but there’s desperation in your voice. 
“I know,” he chuckles. “But I know you’re upset–”
“Stop, please,” you ask. Your voice barely reaches a whisper, eyes falling shut to put your all into not letting the thoughts back in your head. “I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. Help me forget.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, studying your face, waiting for you to look back up at him. 
You don’t answer with words, instead pulling him back down, nodding softly before kissing him again. 
The way your hands roam each other’s bodies is slow, but not calculated. He finally lets you tug his shirt off of him, and his fingers fumble helping you out of your own clothes. 
When he moves down your body, he trails kisses along every inch of your skin, eliciting soft gasps from you, fingers digging into his skin as you grasp onto him. 
He situates himself between your legs, but you reach for his hands to get his attention. 
“Need you closer.” You shake your head, only wanting him on top of you. “Please.” 
He listens, coming back up so you’re face to face again. Your arms wrap back around him, as if you’re scared of him leaving. 
“Relax, pretty girl.” 
His voice is soft and comforting, contradicting the shot of pleasure that courses through you as his cock presses against your center, igniting a wave of warmth that washes over your body. 
You rest your cheek against the palm of his hand that’s cupping your face, letting out a moan, one in unison with him as he sets a steady rhythm. 
He knows your body better than you do, you think sometimes, knowing exactly how to make you come undone, make your eyes roll back, make you see stars. 
His lovemaking is mind numbing. 
You swear you don’t regain your senses until you feel him trying to gently push off of you, but you glide your hands from his sides to rest on his back, silently asking him to stay where he is, needing to feel him close to you longer, while you catch your breath. 
Resting his forehead against yours, he does the same before rolling over carefully, bringing you with him to lay on top of him. 
His chest is definitely up there on the list of most comfortable places to lay your head. Your heartbeat continues to go back to normal as you listen to his against your ear. 
“I love you so much. I never want you questioning that,” he whispers, rubbing your back. He knows you wanted to be done with that for the night, but he needs to do his part in continuing to reassure you. “Okay?”
Tears roll down your cheek and he can feel them wetting his skin as you nod. He’d like to hear you say you believe him, but he’ll take it for tonight.
─── ✧
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morganski-19 · 3 months
Text
Chills Right to the Marrow Part 16
part 1, prev part
Despite the advice of both Steve and Wayne, Dusitn returns to the hospital the next day. Stands outside of Eddie’s room for longer than he should. Wondering if walking through the doors will bring the same torment as before. If anything will change.
He can’t bring himself to do it. Turns from the door and continues down the hall, deciding to visit Max. The rest of the group is already there. He was just going to be late.
They are sitting around the bed and talking. As if it was a lunch table. Or the couch of one of their living rooms. Bringing back the warm feelings of friendship. Of a never changing form of love. Reminding him that there is light in the dark, as long as he searches for it.
But just because there is light, doesn’t mean the dark isn’t suffocating.
Dustin’s mind lingers in the realm between rooms. The hallway that melds happiness and sorrow. As people reunite or lose their loved ones. Cope with the understanding that everything has changed. Or nothing has changed at all.
Everyone here is deciding to ignore the change for a moment. Try to look straight at the light for as long as they can. Until it leaves spots in their eyes and forces them to turn away. Ignoring it almost hurts as much as acknowledging it.
Maybe not for everyone, but it causes Dustin to remain quiet. Adding things to conversation, when necessary, but otherwise no words form. Laughter dies before hitting his lips. Feels so foreign. The muscles that pull the smile up on his face pulled down by weights. Each formation marking itself with burned energy.
But in the end, it’s the first moment he’s had in weeks where he isn’t fully drowning. Where part of the pain sets itself aside and allows him to breath. He forgot how nice it felt to be unburdened.
“Alright, what’s up with you,” Max asks when the rest of the group leaves. Dustin procrastinating traveling down the hall again.
“What?”
Max tilts her head to the side, the annoyance still ripe in the clouded glare. “You have barely said anything since you got here. You’ve never been this quiet. What’s going on?”
“How can you act so, not different? Like nothing has changed.” Dustin pauses, trying to find the right words to say. “You’re acting so ok. I’m not sure I would have I gone through what you did.”
Max shrugs, picking at her cast. “If I’m not laughing, I’m crying or shutting down. And I do when you guys leave. But laughing feels so much better than crying, so I try to laugh when I can.”
She has a point with that. Dustin feels how the laughter lifted weights. Made the joy trapped away in the pain start to flutter again.
“But don’t you wish that things turned out differently?” The question seems stupid now that it’s asked, but Dustin still wants to know.
Max raises her head, her clouded eyes looking towards Dustin but missing him slightly. “Of course I do. I miss seeing you guys. All I can see are the shadows of you when you stand in front of the light. It’s hard to remember things that I thought I didn’t have to memorize.”
She takes a breath to blink away the tears. “But, I can either be miserable because of the way life turned out and get caught up in these possible scenarios that could have happened. Or, I can learn to live this life that I almost lost. I was stuck in the what ifs before, I don’t want to be stuck in them again.”
Dustin wishes it were that easy. To just push them away and forget that the other possibilities exist. That there could have been a lifetime that he could have stopped Eddie from cutting that rope. From stopping and running out into the hoard of bats. Stop him from enduring all this pain.
“I heard about Eddie,” Max says when Dustin doesn’t respond. “I hope he gets better soon.”
“Me too.”
“It’s not his fault you know, the anger and the yelling and stuff. I had a moment like that when I woke up from the coma. It only lasted a few hours for me, but I was only in one for a few days. Eddie’s been stuck in one for over a week.”
Dustin lets out a deep breath. Tears threatening to fall. “It looked like he didn’t even recognize me.”
“He did,” Max quickly says. “Somewhere in his mind, he did. It just might not have come to the surface that fast. It’s weird waking up from a coma. It’s like your body is brand new, and everything feels wrong. You have to relearn everything. Including memories.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“You’ve never been in a coma before,” Max shrugs. “Most people don’t.”
Dustin sits with her for a few more minutes before going to leave. Max stopping him on his way out to say one last thing.
“He’s going to remember, Dustin.”
He turns to look at her again. Seeing the pain engulf her face. Realizing how much all of this has affected her too.
“Be there for him when he does.”
Dustin nods, not realizing that she can’t see it. Stopping himself before he shuts the door to call out to her. Make sure she knows he understands.
“I will.”
He walks down the hall. Stopping in front of Eddie’s door again. Hand hovering over the handle. Pushing himself to make it turn. Step into the threshold and sit in his chair. Alone in a hospital room with his friend.
Eddie’s asleep. Looking more peaceful that yesterday. The pain and anger faded from his face. Leaving only the calmness that comes with sleep. Dustin thought the calmness of his face would sting, but all it does is bring comfort. Knowing that right in this moment, Eddie feels nothing.
Doing what he has done for the past week, Dustin pulls out the battered-up copy of The Fellowship of the Ring and turns to the page he left off on. Letting the words of this great adventure fill the room. One where lowly hobbits left the only town they ever knew, to do something grand. Something for the betterment of their entire world.
In a way, all of them were the hobbits. Broken out of the innocence of unknowing and thrown into the unbelievable reality. Walked themselves to Mordor and back. With their scars and bruises. But in the end, they continued to have lives. Be able to continue on with their own adventures.
Eddie stirs as Dustin makes it to the last chapter. Opens his eyes and turns towards Dustin. Blankly stares as the book concludes. Tries to sit up as Dustin closes the book. Falls back onto the pillows with a wince.
“Help,” he whispers. “Please.”
Dustin stands from his chair. Raises the back of Eddie’s bed slightly higher so Eddie’s sitting more vertically. Still with a slight recline.
Eddie takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he licks his chapped lips. “I yelled.” Another deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Dustin shakes his head, not wanting to add to Eddie’s pain. “It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean it.”
Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes. Dripping down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
He realizes that Eddie means for more than just yesterday. For everything he doesn’t even remember doing, but deep in the depths of his mind knows he did. Understanding that he is here for some reason. And it caused both of them pain.
Dustin reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand. Feels the life as he grips Dustin’s fingers with all the strength that Eddie has right now. “Don’t be.”
“Love you, Henderson.” Eddie whispers before closing his eyes again. Falling back to sleep.
Dustin cries. He remembers. “Love you too, Eddie.”
Note: This full chapter is now posted on my ao3. Now back to Wayne
next part
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thefallennightmare · 10 months
Text
Just Pretend-eleven
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Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: for this one, no theories or what ifs. it's all from our owns personal experience which makes it cathartic for us and maybe some of you. MUST LISTEN TO EILEY BY TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH! DURING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. HEADS UP: there will be talks of suicidal thoughts throughout this chapter so please please please, read with caution.
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake
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READER
My feet took me almost in autopilot mode to the end of the hallway where the door urged me forward while my heart kept screaming at me to turn around; go back. The tears that gathered in my eyes were blinding me and I could barley see as I pushed through the door, quickly ascending the staircase. So many questions filled my brain and nearly knocked me on my ass, I had to grasp at the railing. I gasped for breath, my lungs being crushed by the weight of leaving him. His broken eyes begging me to come back, not to leave. But my own issues kept me from following my heart.
Why did I leave? Why did I fucking leave? Why couldn’t I just talk? Why did I leave him like that?
Those usually bright eyes filled with so much darkness and sadness, it made me stumble over my feet as I neared the door that led out to the roof of the hotel. The wind brushed around me in rapid waves as I came to a sudden halt in the middle of the roof. Even though it was four in the morning, the hustle and bustle of the city noise carried all the way up here.
Why was I so worried about a future I wasn’t even sure I was going to have?
My mind was clouded with images of Noah and how I left him I didn’t realize I was standing at the edge of the roof until my foot slipped. I cursed while steading myself on my feet and stared down at the passing cars. If I was being honest, I wish I didn’t save myself from falling.
As I stood at the ledge, memories of Noah and I played in a loop in my brain as the weight on my chest caved in. Two hearts that beat in sync but they could never be.
When he first stepped off the bus, taking all the breath out of my lungs.
The day at the zoo where he bought me the stuffed wolf; the one Trey tossed out of the bus in his rage.
Our afternoon at the beach where we had a heart to heart conversation, one of many, and it made me realize Noah was someone I could trust. He made me feel so free and alive that day; like the crow.
When he analyzed my lyrics that first night of tour in the green room and how passionate he looked.
A choked sob crawled out of my throat when the memory of the night we lost Keaton slammed into me. Then his funeral and how broken Noah was that entire day. I thought I lost him into the darkness that was grief but no, quite the opposite happened. My lips tingled as I remebered our first kiss, the one we shared that night.
I should have known how fucked I would be for Noah Sebastian from that moment.
“Fuck!” I screamed while falling to my knees, sobs plowing through my entire body.
My chest finally caved in, bones crushing into dust, as that negative voice that buried itself so deep within years ago continued to chastise me for my decision.
You’re a fucking idiot.
How could you leave him like that?
He begged you to come back. He wanted you to stay until the morning.
Did you expect him to be okay with never having a family?
What man doesn’t want a future like that?
I told you he wouldn’t want to stick by all that bullshit.
“Stop it!” I smacked my palms onto my forehead repeatedly to quiet the voices.
It didn’t work; they only got louder and more persistent.
I tried to tell you, babe. Being with him only leads to heartbreak.
“Just get out! Get out of my head! I beg, please, just get out! Get out of my head before I cave in!” I screamed, now digging my palms into my eyes.
I was absolutely exhausted and unbelievably unhappy. I hated myself and was so angry for what I did. Noah and I were so happy and to see him smile that grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling made my heart burn in my throat. The tattoos that covered his toned stomach with slight pudge in the center. Soft skin and a comfortable smell I wanted to be buried in.
A mochi. My mochi.
No, not yours. You walked away.
I ruined it. I possibly, could have, most definitely destroyed the best thing that could have happened to me, besides this band. My hands shook, my body, my knees were weak. I should have stopped by my hotel room to bring some alcohol with me on this venture up here but knew if Chase or Malcolm saw me, they’d want to know what happened.
Shit.
Everyone had to know by now what happened, I’m sure they do.
Oh god, what did I do? To hurt Noah was like walking on broken glass. I never wanted to hurt him.
But you did, you bitch, you did!
“Oh Keaton,” I sobbed on my knees. “I ruined everything. You knew him better than me, what would he have done if I told him the truth and stayed!?”
Besides Chase and Malcolm, Keaton knew about my secrets only because he was there when the pain was unbearable. He helped me through it. So now, in this desperate time of need and confusion, I called out to the one person who couldn’t give me an answer.
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CHASE
“Fuck, what do you think happened?” Malcolm wondered while tossing on a sweater.
I quickly stepped into a pair of sweatpants then ran a hand over my buzzed head. “I don’t know. But whatever it was, fucked both of them up.”
His hands shook as he tried to type something out on his phone and knowing Malcolm better than anyone, I knew he was seconds away from his own panic attack.
“Steven,” he wiggled his phone. “He’s wondering if there’s anything they can do to help find her?”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. “Tell them to take care of Noah; we’ll take care of Y/N.”
She was our responsibility; we made that promise to her father years ago when he came to visit. He couldn’t watch after her so he entrusted us to. We failed with Trey; we let him burry his claws so deep into her and now we’re afraid that whatever happened with Noah we wouldn’t be able to get her back.
Malcolm realized that too because his hands shook and breathing became uneven.
“Hey,” I said softly while covering his hands with my own. “We’ll find her, we always do.”
“I know,” he swallowed. “I’m just-worried. She told me earlier that she was going by Noah’s room to hang out. I didn’t think-.”
I cupped his cheek and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “Why don’t you stay here in case, she comes back. I think I know where she might be.”
Malcolm eased into my touch, emerald eyes glowing from the moonlight casting in through the window, and if it was any other moment, I’d tell him I love him.
He knew already, but I still liked to remind him.
“I love you,” he breathed a long deep breath.
With a final kiss, I muttered I loved him back against his lips, before pocketing my phone and slipping out of the room. I didn’t bother checking throughout the hotel for her. There’s only one place she’d be.
The roof.
Y/N’s always had this fascination with behind higher than others. She wanted to feel like one of the Gods on Mount Olympus. But I didn’t doubt right now, she felt smaller than a peasant in past Athens.
The door to the roof was open, cold winds blowing down the fire escape stairs as I reached the top, eyes immediately landing on a figure curled up with their knees to their chest, sobs being drowned out by the noise from down below in the streets.
Panic set deep within my stomach as I neared her. “Y/N?”
At first my voice was quiet, so I said her name again, this time deeper; louder as I kneeled in front of her. “Y/N!”
Her eyes struggled to open due to how swollen they were from her crying, mascara running down her cheeks and staining her face.
“Sweets,” I sighed with slumped shoulders.
“Chase?” My name came out raw, a clear sign that her voice had gone horse; from what, I wasn’t sure.
“What are you doing up here?” I questioned while taking off my sweater and wrapping it around her shoulders.
She was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Her lips were blue from the cold of the predawn air and she shivered as I rubbed my hands up and down her arms.
“Oh, gods. What did we do?” Y/N cried while falling into my chest.
For a moment, I didn’t move her although I knew I needed to get her inside to warm up, but I decided another minute wouldn’t hurt. She needed that extra minute to let out all of her pent-up feelings and doubt. Something happened in that room between her and Noah tonight and I didn’t care how long it took, she would tell us what happened.
I hushed her cries with a soothing hand to her back, cradling her, until the cries lessened and her body went limp against me; she must have dozed off again. So lifting her into my arms, I carried her back down the stairs towards our floor and as I turned the corner, our room only two doors down, I stopped mid-step when my eyes landed on Steven and Matt.
Anger filled me for the briefest of moments but I tried to let it go. None of knew what happened so it wouldn’t be right for me to get upset with either of them. They weren’t in the room with Noah and Y/N.
“She okay?” Matt asked.
I nodded. “Found her up on the roof. She’s fucking freezing and I don’t know how long she was up there for.”
Steven sighed while running a hand over his tired face. “I’m glad she’s alright; given the circumstances. We’ll let the others know.”
Not bothering to say anything else, I stepped between the two of them so they could get a good look at how broken Y/N was; blue lips, puffy eyes, and face stained with makeup and tears. Noah wasn’t the only one hurting, she was too.
When I knocked on the hotel room door, I could physically see the relief fall away from Malcolm’s shoulders as he opened the door, letting me step inside.
“Get the blankets,” I motioned towards the bed.
He pulled them away so I could lay Y/N gently into the bed, both of us covering her with the mounds of blankets; and a few from the closet. As I stepped away to let her sleep, cold fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.
“Chase.”
My name came out broken on her chattering lips and I laid a gentle hand on her face. “Get some rest, sweets. We can talk in the morning.”
She shook her head. “No, I n-nee-need-.”
Malcolm sat on the edge of the bed next to her while I stood behind him. “What do you need?”
“No-Noah,” Y/N forced out through the chills her body continued to attack her with.
“Y/N,” I sighed. “He’s not in a good place right now.”
Her eyes glimmered with tears before they fell from her eyes in groves. “It’s all my fault.”
Malcolm tensed under my touch on his shoulder. “What happened?”
Y/N remained silent as she stared up at the ceiling for a few long beats then she turned over in bed so she could face towards us, clutching the pillow closer to her chest.
Now I kneeled down in front of her so I could look directly into her eyes. “You need to tell us what happened.”
Malcolm wiped away her tears as she let out an unsteady breath. “I asked him a stupid fucking question.”
“What did you ask Noah?”
There was a slight hesitation in her words. “Where he wanted to be in 10 years.”
Malcolm and I shared a look with each other, not sure how that simple question could cause this much damage between them. Y/N could read us like a book, from start to end, so she immediately knew what we were thinking.
“Noah said one day, he wants a family, a dog and cats and a little wooden house,” she explained flatly.
Then it all clicked into place, the puzzle of the night with that simple word; family.
That subject always had been a sore subject with Y/N so we never brought it up. We knew how hard she had to work for things, especially that, so it was understandable why she freaked out the way she did.
“Sweets, it’s alright,” I cooed while brushing the hair away from her face. “He didn’t know.”
Malcolm agreed with a nod while rubbing her back. “I’m sure if you talk to him about it, Noah will understand.”
Suddenly, she was pushing away from us and stumbling out of the bed, both of us watching her pace with worry in our eyes.
“You guys don’t understand the pain. You don’t know how he looked!” Y/N pounded her chest. “It’s like a huge hole has been punched through my chest. This pain is the reminder, he is real.”
“Y/N,” I cautioned while rising to my feet and slowly walked over to her. “Everything will be alright.”
She jerked her hand away from me. “No, it won't! I did what I always do, Chase! I panicked and ran away. I so badly wanted to stay. Fuck, you guys should have seen his face when he asked me to stay- the crinkles, the cheeks, so sweet I just- I can’t believe I did this. I’m so damaged, guys, so damaged.”
I stood there frozen, unsure how to console Y/N because we’d never seen her like this; so broken. Tears fell from her eyes as her chest caved in with each deep, stuttering breath. As Malcolm pulled her into his arms, I took out my phone and typed out a message to Nicholas.
I know what happened.
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MALCOLM
“Are you sure you two will be alright?” I asked while adjusting the bag on my shoulder.
Chase nodded while wrapping a protective arm around Y/N’s shoulder; she hasn’t slept since he brought her back into the room just a few hours ago. She was running on fumes, we all were, but I knew the long day she had ahead of her. She needed every ounce of energy she could find.
“We’re mostly going to pick up Salem,” Chase said.
Fuck, the cat.
I cringed at the mention of Y/N’s cat; soul as dark as its fur.
“I swear that cat fucking hates me,” I grumbled while leaning closer into Chase.
He chuckled while leaning up to kiss me, since I was a few inches taller than him. “I would say thats not true but we all know it is.”
Y/N let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll do my best to make sure he stays out of your guys’ room.”
I had to admit; it was really good to hear her laugh, even if it was a quiet one.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I asked.
Her face flinched with my words but she quickly recovered. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”
“Last call for flight 3E for Los Angeles. Now boarding.”
The three of us glanced over towards the group of people that were sitting in the same lounge we were. Nicholas was sitting next to Noah, who refused to lift his gaze from the chip nail polish on his fingers. Jolly was talking with Folio and when he felt us staring, Nicholas gave a curt nod to Chase.
Without Y/N noticing, he pulled out his phone to send a text to Nicholas. After we told him we knew what happened, we promised we would tell him everything; about Y/N, her condition, and why she left.
“Do you?” I asked Y/N, nodding towards Bad Omens.
She shook her head, not daring to look any of them in the eye. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” I smiled weakly. “Call me when you guys land, I want to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Chase and I shared a kiss before I pulled Y/N into my chest, her arms wrapping around me.
“Thank you,” she muttered into my shirt.
It was hard for me to show affection but for her; I found it easier.
I placed a kiss on top of her head. “Anytime, buttercup.”
With a final wave towards the two people that mean everything to me, I turned my back and fell into line with the large group of others that were flying back to Los Angeles. I stood a few spaces behind Noah, who could barley lift his head up, the weight of what happened last night pressing down on his shoulders. Guilt ate away at my insides knowing that I could fix it but it wasn’t my place too. The part of me that needed to fix the bad with something good was overpowering. Any time something got too tense or awkward, I was always there to smooth it over with my humor; but this wasn’t one of those times.
“Hey.”
Turning on my heels, I gave a small smile towards Jolly. “What’s up, man?”
“You’re not going to Vegas?”
We both took a step forward as the line moved slowly. “No, I’m heading back to LA to get our new place set up.”
“Right,” Jolly nodded. “You’re only a few miles from us now.”
“Yea.”
Silence fell between us and I shifted on my feet, my anxiety about this whole situation suddenly becoming too overbearing. I felt as if my lungs were being crushed from the inside out. Knowing that someone I loved was hurting because of a choice they made killed me. I wanted to fix things. I needed to fix this. It’s what I’d done all my life as the middle child. I was there to fix my younger brothers smile when our dad hit him a little too hard. I was there to fix my mom when my dad took his anger out on her instead. I hated not being able to fix the division that stood between Noah and Y/N.
Breathe, Chase’s voice cooed in my mind. Deep breath in, long breath out.
“They’ll be alright,” Jolly’s voice broke me out of my inducing panic.
We watched Noah’s head lift finally from the ground as the flight for Las Vegas was called. His eyes danced around the room, searching for someone, but it was too late. Y/N and Chase had made it to the other end of the airport, their flight leaving minutes after ours. Defeat and possibly anger radiate off of Noah as he handed his boarding pass to the attendant behind the desk and grumbled his thanks before slipping down the long hallway towards the plane.
“She didn’t mean to break him,” I defended Y/N. “She’s going through something that takes a lot out of her every month. It’s a constant battle between what she wants and what her body needs.”
“I know,” Jolly nodded. “We’re here if any of you guys want to talk.”
I bumped fists with him. “Thanks, man.”
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READER
There’s a thousand voices in my head, all saying the same fucking thing, and I hoped they didn’t take a rope around my neck.
Pathetic.
You can’t give him what he wants.
He won’t wait for you. He’ll find it with someone else.
I slammed the pillow over my head to smother the voices away. The darkness that clouded over my room did nothing to help the raging pain that pounded within the confines of my skull. Everything hurt and screamed for release but I did nothing. I’d rather let my body succumb to it than ease it because once the pain was gone, memories of Noah crept back in and I didn’t want to be reminded of what I did.
How beautiful his face looked when he asked me to say until morning.
How broken his face looked when I said no.
And how destroyed his face was when he begged me to come back.
Noah’s face haunted me every single night the last two weeks that I refused to sleep for longer than a few hours because I would eventually wake with a scream, his name echoing off my walls. The guilt of walking away sat heavy on my chest as I sat in bed, scattered pens, papers, and a fully charged laptop at my feet.
Rain pelted hard against the large windows of my bedroom and I sighed, knowing there was another full day of storm's head; figuratively and literally.
Salem’s soft meow broke me from my frozen trace and I picked him up from the floor to set him in my lap. He purred loudly as I scratched his head, letting the softness of his black fur calm my racing heart.
“I know Chase already fed you, stop trying to get second breakfast.”
It had been a few weeks since I moved in with Chase and Malcolm, all of us falling into living together quite fast, until the pandemic hit and forced us inside. I didn’t mind it, being holed up in my room with my writing and Salem, but Chase was going stir crazy. He was the social one out of the three of us, and knowing he couldn’t go out to see friends or even go for a hike was making him bang his head against the wall.
Malcolm, on the other hand, loved staying home. He spent the time writing music on his bass or baking bread. According to Chase, the first few batches weren’t that great, but he didn’t dare tell Malcolm that.
I stayed in my room most of the day, only seeing one of them when they occasionally checked in on me or brought me something to eat; like right now.
A soft knock on my door made me tear my gaze away from the page full of lyrics.
“Hey sweet,” Chase said while leaning against the doorframe. “Are you hungry?”
I shook my head.
Salem jumped off of my lap and scurried towards the light that poured in from the hallway, clearly having enough of the dark somber of my bedroom.
“You have to eat something,” Chase sat at the end of my bed.
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. “I’m not hungry. I’ll come down and eat something for lunch soon.”
“It’s almost six in the evening, Y/N,” he sighed. “You’ve been up here all day.”
Shit, have I?
Glancing to the clock on my nightstand, I realized he was right.
“Oh,” I shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
Chase pointed to the papers in front of me, a silent way of asking if he could read it so I agreed with a nod.
I wanna feel something. That's not the touch of your breath on my neck. I wanna feel something. That's not the weight of your world in my head. And all the walls are caving in.
“This is really good,” he mused while handing it back to me.
I simply hummed in response, not exactly sure what he wanted me to say.
“Anything else?” I asked after some silence, keeping my eyes trained hard to the rain splashing against the window behind Chase.
His jaw ticked. “You’re killing yourself, Y/N. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Just call him and explain-.”
My eyes snapped over to Chase. “No, there’s nothing to fucking explain. I walked away from him, I hurt him, Chase. He won’t forgive me.”
“You don’t-.”
“Yes, I do! You don’t see what I see!” I pointed to my head. “Every fucking night his face haunts me. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat because it makes me fucking sick.”
I choked on a sob as tears slipped from my eyes down to the scatter of pages on my bed. My cries drowned out the rain as Chase pulled me down to bed, letting me lay against his chest, the wetness of my mistakes staining his shirt.
Memories of Noah will always fucking haunt me; how devastated he looked as I turned my back to him. I tried to force them away by thinking of anything else but truth was is I didn’t think he was going anywhere, soon. I’ve done some things that I can’t speak and I tried to wash Noah away, but he wouldn’t leave. Although, part of me was almost begging him to keep haunting me just, so I had an excuse to see his face.
I think I’m possessed, that was the only explanation. He put a fever inside me and I’ve been cold since I left him in that room weeks ago.
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CHASE
I walked passed Y/N’s door again; she needed to eat. She hasn’t eaten anything since dinner last night and that was a small bowl of cereal. It was nearly two in the afternoon and if she continued at this rate, she’d be a mess of skin and bones. I was supposed to be out with Malcolm but felt as if I should stay back. Something was deep-rooted in my gut that I needed to be home with Y/N today.
My knuckles raised to the wood of her door, ready to knock, but stopped when I heard that song play yet again. Y/N’s had it on repeat every day for the last three days, nothing else coming from her room besides Keaton’s voice.
Fuck, why did she have to torture herself like this?
I sighed, knowing this was going to be a whirlwind, and pressed my ear to the door. Her soft, broken, voice singing. Suddenly the music stopped for a few seconds before Y/N replayed it and got louder.
Who was she talking to?
“How can you say this was all part of your plan, start explaining?”
“I knew you wanted me to meet him! I fucking knew it! Well guess what, Keaton?! I did; I fucking did, and now look! Look what happened!”
Keaton.
I ran a hand over my buzzed head and quickly typed out a message to Malcolm, who was out shopping. Since the ban had been lifted a few days ago, we were planning a small vacation just the two of us in a few weeks and he was buying things we needed.
Well, as long as Y/N was in the right headspace, we would leave her. But with what I was hearing on the other side of the door, I was afraid our vacation would have to get pushed back.
She’s blasting Eiley again. But now she’s talking to Keaton, blaming him for her meeting Noah. I don’t know what else to do, Mal.
What sounded like something falling over and breaking made me press my hear against the door again.
“Left with this hole, six feet of dirt I can’t fill,” Y/N’s raw but powerful voice called out into the air.
My phone buzzed with a text from Malcolm.
We need to talk with Nick. There’s not much else we can do, babe.
I sighed, knowing he was right, and quickly sent a text to Nick to see if he was free sometime next week. I remember him saying in our Hollow Omens group chat he was flying back from Virgina on Friday to see everyone.
Of course, neither Noah nor Y/N would ever respond in the chat, not wanting to risk saying something to each other. Maybe if they did, she wouldn’t be talking to the ghost of her best friend.
“Oh god, it hurts,” she wailed and I could picture her clutching her chest. “Why did I do this? Why did you fucking leave us both like this?”
A loud thud had me taking a step away from the door, thinking she was about to come barreling through but realized she was throwing things against the door and walls of her bedroom.
“I’m no better than you! I fucking left him. He wanted me, all of me, and I fucking left!”
“Oh, sweets,” I let out a shaky breath, hands reaching for the doorknob.
“He was mine, he was mine!”
She was mine; she was mine!
I hesitated opening the door at what I heard. Did she? Did Y/N change the lyrics of the song so it was as if she was saying Noah was hers?
Something fell to the floor, glass shattering, and Y/N’s ear piercing screams dug the knife deeper into my heart and I slammed through the door, it slamming against the wall next to me. All the blood drained from my face at the scene in front of me; Y/N was curled up on the floor crying, a framed photo on the floor smashed to pieces. She was clutching a piece of glass in her hand, droplets of blood falling to the wood floor beneath her.
“Fuck, Y/N!” I cursed while sliding on my knee’s in front of her to snatch the piece of glass from her tight grip, slicing my fingers. “Oh, come on sweets, get up! Don’t-don’t do this.”
Fear of what would have happened if I went out with Malcolm dug their nails into me but I refused to acknowledge the pain. Not right now, I can think of the what if’s later. Righ now, Y/N needed me.
Hollow, sunken, and bloodshot eyes stared up at me through the tears that clouded her vision. “I ruined everything, I ruined everything! His face! You didn’t see it! You don’t know!”
Her ramblings had been the same for a month now, never changing.
“Sweets, hey, it’s okay.” I cupped her face. “You didn’t, you’ll figure this out! You’ll talk to him, he’s not gone for good, Y/N. He’s here, he’s here.”
It killed me holding her; she was in agony. She felt like she ended Noah for good. It was almost as if she confused her feelings of grief and heartbreak into two. Noah was alive, his flesh and blood was still awake, he was numbing but he was there. She needed to remember this; she needed to know the feelings she was suffering through had a chance to get better.
“He’ll never see me the same,” Y/N kicked the broken frame away from us but I could see what picture it held; Noah and her at the zoo while they waited for the wolves to come out of hiding.
Unbeknownst to them at the time, I smacked Bryan’s chest so he could take a few pictures of them.
“Just give it time, just give it time.” I said while holding her, rocking her back and forth.
A little kiss on her head. My sister, my friend.
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MALCOLM
“Hey sugar baklava,” I knocked on the door frame to Y/N’s room.
She was sitting at the large bay window, sunshine brushing its bright rays across her pale face and dark floors. It's been a few days since Chase found her with the piece of glass in her hand and ever since then, we made it a rule that she had to keep her door open. We didn’t care if she continued to hide away up here but the door needed to be open. It might have been a teenager rule, but we didn’t want to take any chances. We already knew she was hiding things from us so this was the only way.
“Where’s your head at?” I leaned up against the wall while crossing my arms over my chest.
Y/N chuckled at the nickname but I could see there was no light behind those usual bright eyes. She’d been sitting in that same spot for the last day and a half; hair not washed since I can’t remember when, clothes piled up, notebooks out with a variety of lyrics scribbled on every pages and her laptop always had a full charge due to the plug remaining inside it.
Through the pain, she smiled up at me. “Just the usual, contemplating my fucked life and all its wonders.”
I inhaled deeply while stiffing up straight. “I know what you’re going to say, but you are more than welcome to hang out with us at Applebees later. They have dollarRitas.”
“Thank you, maybe,” she smiled weakly.
“I’m worried about you.” I sighed with concern. “We all are.”
Salem clawed his way out from underneath her bed to stretch wide in the one spot on the floor the sun touched. If it wasn’t for that furry little creature that hated my guts, I don’t want to think of where Y/N would be right now.
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured while holding up a granola bar. “Bring me back some tacos?”
“Deal,” I smiled.
Turning my back to leave, her voice called after me. “Mind feeding Salem on your way out?”
My eyes cast down to my feet as the black cat sat between them, dark green eyes staring deep into my soul.
“Fuck, Y/N. Your cat wants to kill me,” I shivered at the thought.
She chuckled. “As long as you feed him, you’ll live!”
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MALCOLM
The noise of the city faded to a dull buzz as I set down my second empty margarita class and pushed away the rest of my lunch. We were sitting on the patio at Applebee’s, the warm Los Angeles air doing nothing to ease the shake in my bones.
“How’s she doing?”
I nodded towards Nick who sat across from Chase and I. “Depends on the day you ask. But after the other day, we’re watching her like a hawk.”
He raised a brow. “What happened?”
Chase and I shared a look before eventually telling Nick about catching her with a piece of glass in her hand.
“You don’t think-?”
“I don’t know what to think, man,” Chase took a long drink of his beer. “I catch her breaking shit then holding a piece of glass in her hand so tight she cuts herself? Thankfully, she didn’t need stitches but if I wasn’t home, who knows what could have happened. She’s playing with her health and I don’t know what to do to help her.”
“What do you mean?” Nick wondered.
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “She hasn’t been taking her medication. There’s at least six more pills than there should be. And two extra vials.”
“What about Noah?” Chase asked, suddenly not wanting to change the subject.
He adjusted the sunglasses that was perched on his nose. “His drinking is getting worse. We want to be stoked because he’s written two really great songs but the alcohol dulls the excitement.”
Chase spun the ice in his drink with the straw and sighed. “Y/N has Eiley on blast until 2 am, hunched over in pain and screaming into her pillows. Writing at random. It’s killing me, to watch her like this.”
“Noah’s been playing Sympathy a lot too, while downing the bottle of whiskey and writing. A fuckin mess, man,” Nick leaned back into the chair.
“Can I tell you something?” Chase asked.
“Shoot,” Nick nodded.
“If fucking hurts to hear this but sometimes, when she plays Eiley, so faintly I can hear her singing. There’s a part in the song where Keaton’s broken as he says she was mine-fuck- I hear Y/N sometimes crying and changes the words-.”
Chase paused, trying to find the right was to convey what he was feeling and Nick tilted his head in wonder.
“He’s mine, he was mine. He was mine,” I finished for Chase, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get the words out.
“She regrets it all, Nick.” Chase rested his arms on the table so he could look directly at Nick. “I think-no I know, she loves him. Y/N fell for him so hard, and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for leaving that room.”
“I know,” he sighed. “That’s why I’m on her side for this as well. You told me what she’s going through, it makes sense why she freaked out the way she did.”
I shifted in my seat. “Did you tell Noah?”
“No,” Nick firmly shook his head. “That's something you two or Y/N has to tell him.”
Chase reached for my hand under the table and once our fingers were linked, I gave Nick my best stern gaze. “We have to do something.”
For a long few beats, we were silent, thinking of ways that we could help these two talk again. They weren’t going to do it on their own; the needed help.
“We’ll shoot them both a text,” Nick began. “Same time, telling them to get their heads out of their asses, because let’s be real- they’re stubborn as hell and won’t listen to us directly. They need an outsider to call them both out to wake the hell up.”
“So what? I text Noah while you text Y/N?” Chase wondered.
Nick nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. They need help, they both do, desperately and they need each other. They’re just being ridiculous about it.”
There was a clear hesitation in my expression with Nick's idea. “You know it’s not gonna magically happen over night though right?”
“Of course not, but I have a hunch it’ll work,” Nick assured while throwing some money on the table for his lunch.
“What we need to do is get them to seek help. They have soon many unresolved issues, deep-seeded. They need to get help and get them to at least be friends again. They’re in love with each other. That won’t change, but the circumstances have to.”
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READER
The pillows muffled my screams as I clutched my abdomen, the stabbing, sheering pain spreading through my veins like wildfire. Every fiber of my existence was screaming at me to stop the pain, make it all go away, but I ignored it. I needed to feel this; it was the only thing that made me feel anything at all.
Eiley played on a loop through my speakers as I spoke into the air above me.
“Choose me over him, I often wonder why.”
“How can I face him again, Keaton? How? How can I ease the pain, he’s mine. He was mine.”
Rolling over to my other side once the pain stopped for a few moments, I started at the basket on top of my nightstand. 1, 2, 3, 4, bottles, and one syringe. They just stare at me. I counted each bottle, and that syringe repeatedly. A reminder of the work it takes to make myself normal. A reminder of what happens every month like fucking clockwork. A reminder that no man would ever want to stay with me and deal with this alongside me.
“Noah would,” I muttered into the pillow that was stained with my tears.
Yeah? Well you ruined that, sweetie.
I’ve had fans ask me, “how do I keep myself from losing myself entirely?” All I can tell them is that it can’t rain all the time. I hide the pain behind a smile and slip into a parallel universe.
I’m constantly making a series of small holes in a row, mistakes I made in my membrane between here and there until an opening exists. And who can resist an opening?
So do I take the meds? Or do I lay here and rot?
I’ll take them tomorrow. It’s already too late in the day, no need to take them.
It was the same thing I told myself every morning when I would wake up and stare at the medication. The same thing for the last month.
Maybe if I stopped taking them, I would go back to my natural state. I could succumb to the natural order of things, or maybe the pain would be so severe I’d be fine with dying.
Okay.
No. Stop. Stop that!
The voices continued to fight with each other as I dug my palms into my eyes, hoping his haunting face would leave; even for a few seconds.
Maybe I could wait for the dust to settle.
Eiley started playing yet again and I narrowed my eyes up towards the ceiling. “If this is all part of your plan, Keaton then start explaining because this is fucking bullshit. You wanted us together, well fucking give me a sign it’s worth it.”
I stared at those bottles and wondered why any of this mattered when my phone buzzed from underneath my pillow. Groaning, I had every intention of ignoring it, thinking it was the Hollow Omens group chat of Folio saying something he thought was funny; most of the time it was. But today, the pain was so debilitating that I wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
Nicholas: Hi.
I sucked in a breath, not expecting a solo text from him. I wanted to leave him on read because there was no reason for him to be texting me. What’s there to say? He's my friend, but Noah is his brother, why would he care about me at all? I hurt his friend.
But.
That one word weighed heavy on my mind as my shaking fingers typed out two letters back.
Hi
The bubbles popped up and stopped, then popped up again, before proceeding to another text.
I hope you’re alright, Y/N. and doing okay. I hear you moved in with the guys, a great idea and I’m glad you’re settled in.
That message I left on read only because I was hunched over my bed now, dry heaving saliva into the bowl that had a permanent spot next to my bed on the floor. The pain was becoming too much; like an animal with razor like claws were digging through my skin to be set free. My stomach was being ripped to shreds.
It wasn’t until almost an hour later once the pain and my screams of agony finally stopped that I had the courage to look at my phone; the text from Nick smacking me in my face.
Y/N, first I just wanna say this: it isn’t my business to step in or to make assumptions I know everything. I had a talk with Chase and Malcolm, and I understand to a degree what you’re feeling right now. I will admit, I was angry at you; you hurt my friend. Noah isn’t doing well right now, but he’s trying. However, I’m trying to remain mutual about this. I see what you both have; I see what you’re both capable of even if you don’t right now. He needs something; he needs someone stable in his life who can give him the comfort he’s been searching for; I thought that could be you; you acted as if it was. Maybe it still is?
Ten minutes in between this text and the next one.
I would never step in and say something like this to anyone, but because of our current friendship and the situation that’s in front of us, I had to. Because I care about you both. Noah deserves better than what you did; he deserves better than walking out with more questions than answers. But you deserve better than the trauma Trey left you with. My friend’s not perfect but he’s not that fucking guy. All I ask is that you dig deep and see that you can really work through this. Not just alone but together. Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. Please don’t. We miss you.
My eyes blinked a few times at the screen, wondering if what I just read actually was there. Everything Nick said was one hundred percent the truth. Especially the part where Noah deserves better than what I did. But so did I. I also deserved better than what Trey left me with.
I gazed back up towards the ceiling, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “Thanks, Keaton.”
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READER
When I was supposed to be awake, I was asleep. When I was supposed to sleep, I was silent. When a pleasure offered itself to me, I avoided it. I wrote that fucking song repeatedly, a better perspective- a perspective of what I wanted to do that night.
I’ll face my fear of the cold nights
When you leave me behind
I felt your hands in my hair
I felt your breath on my neck
Yeah, I need to feel you again
Just wanted to say good night
Our eyes fighting the light
But I’m not ready to say good night oh
I try and hold on tight ‘cause it’s just not time to say good night
To say good night
One song completed last week and another one just needing the finishing touches. It was all falling into place; well, most things. All I wanted was for Noah to call me when he woke up. I wanted to be in his sweet dreams. But almost three days after Nick texted me, my phone remained silent. Nothing, no texts or calls from Noah. Which at the moment was fine because currently, Malcolm and Chase stood at the foot of my bed with their arms crossed over their broad chests, eyes staring daggers into me.
“The syringe?” Chase asked.
I nodded. “This morning.”
“Pills?” Malcolm then questioned.
Playfully rolling my eyes, I filled my palm with the variety of differnt pills and tossed them into my mouth, swallowing them down with the orange juice they’d brought up minutes ago. I even opened my mouth wide to show them I wasn’t hiding them under my tongue.
Malcolm physically relaxed but Chase wasn’t convinced quite yet.
“Did you call?”
I groaned. “Yes, dad. I have an appointment on Tuesday at ten in the morning. Did you want to drive me there too?”
“You bet your ass I am,” he narrowed his eyes before breaking out into a huge smile. “I’m proud of you, sweets.”
“Me too, buttercup,” Malcolm ruffled my hair.
I playfully smacked his hand away before motioning towards the open door of my room. “Feel free to close it on your way out.”
Salem meowed from his perched on the open window and I realized it was nearing five in the evening. “Oh, dinner time.”
I went to stand from the bed but Malcolm playfully pushed me back down.
“I got it. Let’s go, Salem,” he tapped his thigh a few times, my cat quickly following out of the room.
Chase watched with amazement in his eyes as I let out a lighthearted laugh, one that he hadn’t heard in so long, no doubt.
“What?” I asked, grabbing my phone that buzzed on my bed.
He shrugged before walking out. “Nothing, it’s good to hear that laugh again.”
Smiling, I looked down at my phone but nearly dropped it as I read the message over and over again. Chase noticed my face right before he stepped through the doorway and motioned towards my phone.
“Who is it?”
Mochi 🧋🥟: Hi.
My heart hammered against my chest and it felt like I couldn’t breathe, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering wildly with life I thought would never return.
“Shit, shit.” I muttered while showing Chase the message.
“Well fucking answer him, Y/N.”
“I- what do I say?” I asked as my breathing became erratic.
Fuck, it was like I was a teenager texting her crush for the first time.
“Start with a simple hello. Today’s the first day of you getting your life back in order.” Chase left a kiss to the top of my head before leaving me alone to my own choices.
I stared down at the phone, thumbs hovering over the screen, wondering what the fuck I was going to do.
Do I take Chase’s advice and get my life back in order? Or do I remember all the pain and agony, dark nights where I contemplated ending it all?
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uptondixon · 2 months
Text
Upstead Foster Daughter
Did you ever wonder how Upstead would be as foster parents for a teenage girl? Like Hank and Erin, Hailey and Jay welcomed Olivia to their home when she was 16. Olivia holds a lot of grudges and is full of mischief, but she is also incredibly sweet and has a tremendous need to feel like she belongs. To her surprise, Hailey and Jay will give her exactly that.
Masterlist
Word count: 2k-ish
[Chapter III] “What if I'm far from home?”
Jay recovers well and three months later Olivia finds herself face to face with him and Hailey again.
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“Hailey,” Jay’s rough voice woke Hailey from a light sleep on the chair next to Jay’s hospital bed. 
“Jay!” she got up and held one of his hands between hers, leaving a chaste kiss on it. 
“Hi, my love,” Jay smiled, the effort to do so appearing bigger than it should be. 
Hailey smiled back, “How are you feeling?”
He made a face and tried to change his position on the bed, a huff leaving his lips, “Everything hurts.”
“I’ll call the nurse.”
“No, wait,” Jay grabbed her hand. “Let us be for a while, it doesn’t hurt that much.”
Hailey stared at her stubborn husband. She knew he hated hospitals, and he also wasn’t known for admitting his pain, but she let him be for now.
“What happened?” Jay asked. “I mean, with my CI and the case?”
“What about hearing about yourself first, huh? The surgery was a success, but the doctor said you must take it easy for a while otherwise it won’t heal properly. You scared me, Jay. I can’t see you in this situation again.”
“I’m sorry, I should’ve waited for you. You’re my partner, we do this kind of stuff together.”
“I should’ve insisted on going with you. Maybe if you had backup…”
“You can’t know that for sure, Hailey. If anything, you could be in my place right now so I’m happy I was alone.”
“Jay…”
“Let’s leave the what-ifs behind, okay? I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” he was the one to kiss her hand this time. “I love you.”
“I love you too, always.”
Jay smiled, “Where’s my kiss? Or do I have a bad breath? I don’t know how long I was out.”
Hailey laughed, kissing her husband’s lips softly. “It’s been a day and a half.”
“Wait!” Jay said. “What about the girl who helped me? Olivia. Is she okay?”
“She is, it’s a long story though. We found out she had run away from her foster family.”
“Why?” Jay asked with a frown.
“I don’t know, we talked with her social worker but nothing was wrong, it seemed like a teenager thing.”
“Really? You guys went there to check?”
“We did, Kev and I talked with her foster mom. She seemed good, and the social worker confirmed that.”
“Well,” Jay rearranged himself on the bed again. “Hopefully she will be okay. We can keep an eye on her just in case.”
“I exchanged numbers with her social worker. Told her to call me if anything happened.” 
“Of course you did,” he smiled, but then his expression became more serious. “If it wasn’t for her… I don’t even know Hailey.”
“Yeah, I was terrified hearing from another person that you were shot, but I was happy you weren’t alone.” 
“Me too, I still remember her eyes staring at me in a panic. She must have been so scared, Hailey. But she still did everything I told her to.”
“She was a little shaken up afterward, Kim and Kev said she barely said a word to them. But she was brave.” 
“Oh, about the case,” Hailey started. “It was closed rather quickly, I’m sure Platt and Voight pulled some strings,” she laughed lightly and so did Jay.
“The team found out your CI was still working for his old gang, when you called him asking for info on our case he told them and they sent someone after you.”
“Son of a bitch,” Jay said.
“Both your CI and the guy who shot you were arrested."
Jay looked like he wanted to ask a million questions but Hailey spoke before he had the chance, "But now I just wish to never think about this again, can we do that?”
Jay nodded, “You don’t have to, I promise this was the last bullet to my count,” he said with a smile.
“It better be, Halstead!”
⭑*•⊱ 3 months later ⊰•*⭑
Hailey's phone has been ringing for the past 5 minutes, her ringtone waking Jay up. Hailey came running out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her long hair dripping water everywhere. Jay smiled lazily at the sight.
“I'm sorry Jay, I forgot to turn it off. I came in so desperate for a shower.”
It was around 1 am when she arrived home from an extra shift. There was a situation in a women’s shelter and she and Kim decided to go and lend a hand. 
Hailey did a double take at her phone when she saw the name ‘Martha’, she was Olivia's social worker. 
Jay noticed her shock and said, “You're good? Who is it?”
“It's Olivia's social worker,” she said while picking up the call. Jay sat up, all the traces of sleep suddenly vanishing from his brain. Something bad must have happened for her to call at this hour.
“Martha? Hi, yes I can talk. What's going on? Is Olivia okay?” Hailey said. She felt Jay's presence by her side. 
“Of course, no, don't worry about that it's not a bother at all. I'm glad you called, my husband and I are going right now, bye.” She hung up the phone and turned to Jay.
“What happened? Is she okay?” Jay asked straight away.
“She ran away again.”
2:00 am on a Wednesday, in Chicago. Jay is doing the best he can to avoid thinking about all the possible scenarios that could happen to a 15-year-old girl alone at night. He and Hailey drove around Olivia's foster family neighborhood, checking places she could have run to. No sign of her. After checking all the places the family said she likes to go, Hailey and Jay started to think further.
“Maybe we should call patrol to help out on the search? Call in the team?” Jay said, already sounding way more stressed than he intended to. He knew she wasn't missing long enough to follow all the missing person's protocol, it's been 3 hours. One of the kids that shared a room with Olivia woke up to drink a glass of water and didn't find her on the bed and her clothes were gone from the closet. However, Jay can't help but think the worst. A lot of things can happen in 3 hours, right? 
“Let's check the nearest bus and train stations, if she's not there then we'll see what we can do at the station,” Hailey said, her tone filled with worry.
They got nothing from the bus station, it was almost empty and no one saw a girl walking around alone. But their luck changed at the train station. They noticed her from a distance, sitting down on a bench, a backpack by her side. She was waiting for the train that would come at any minute now. Hailey and Jay looked at each other with relief, moving in the direction of the girl. 
“Olivia,” her head spun toward the feminine voice.
“Hailey? Jay?” Olivia stood up, putting her bag on her shoulders.
Jay immediately tensed up, afraid she might run from them. 
“Olivia we just wanna help, okay?” Hailey said with a small smile. “Come and talk to us.”
Jay watched in silence, hesitant to say anything that could scare the girl away. 
Hailey continued, “Please, Olivia? Whatever you're thinking, it's no good being alone in Chicago at night, we know you know that.” 
Of course, she knew. Olivia was scared, she didn't want to run away in the middle of the night, but it was the best time to do this so she had to gather the courage and go. Always looking over her shoulder the whole way.
“We're taking you to the station,” Jay spoke for the first time, “You're not in trouble, but we can talk there, you can tell us what's going on. How does that sound?” 
Hailey nodded in affirmation to Jay's words.
“Fine,” was all Olivia said. She followed them to the car quietly. The train arrived when they left. If they had got there 5 minutes later, Jay thought. 5 damn minutes and she would be gone.
Olivia did not say a single word on the way to the station. Hailey and Jay tried every possible topic of conversation they could think of but it was useless. She shut herself completely. Hailey was the one driving and after giving up the small talk, she and Jay were exchanging worried looks in silence. Jay, especially, was in a lot of thought. Of course Olivia shut them out, she did not know them. Between that day at the alley when they first met, Jay being in the hospital and Olivia being sent back to her foster family, neither he nor Hailey had a real conversation with her. Jay realized that he didn’t even thank her. 
“I never thanked you for saving my life, Olivia,” Jay said after a long silence.
“It was nothing,” Olivia answered in a low voice.
Jay looked at Hailey in surprise, he was not expecting an answer at all. “What do you mean it was nothing, I could have bled out if you hadn't called my team,” Jay looked at her over his shoulder. “Thank you.”  
It was around 3 am when they got to the district. The three of them went over to the Intelligence break room to talk. 
Olivia sat at the small table close to the window. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Jay asked.
“No,” Olivia mumbled without looking at him.
“I’m just gonna go straight to the point Olivia,” Hailey said, pulling a chair and sitting in front of the girl. “What’s happening with your foster home? Why are you running away?”
“You don’t get it,” Olivia said, still not looking at them.
“Then make us understand,” Hailey said calmly. She looked at Jay silently asking for help, he came and sat beside Hailey.
“We just wanna help you, but we can’t do that if you don’t open up to us,” Hailey tried again. Olivia looked up, looking between them both.
“You don’t know us and we don’t know you,” Jay started. “But we want to get to know you, we want to help you.”
“Why?” Olivia asked.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Hailey answered. “You’re a good kid, you deserve to be happy. If your current foster home is not giving you that then we need to know.”
Olivia thought for a moment. She never expected to see Hailey and Jay again, let alone have this conversation. They were nice to her and she knew they were grateful for what she did for Jay. They probably think they owe her something and that’s why they’re doing this. Whatever the reason, maybe they can help her.
“Fine,” Olivia said looking at the pair. “There is nothing wrong with the foster family.”
Hailey and Jay stared at her in confusion. They did not believe she was running away for the sake of it, it made no sense.
“They feed me, they are nice to me, they give me fresh clothes and a warm bed,” Olivia said. “But that’s all it is.”
“What do you mean?” Hailey asked. 
Olivia took a deep breath before saying, “I’m just another kid to them. They’re good people and everything but that is not my home. I feel like an intruder there. I know I should be grateful, a lot of kids are not this lucky when it comes to foster homes, but I can’t help feeling like this. So I made a plan.”
“A plan?” Hailey asked.
“Yeah, I planned to leave Chicago and the foster system behind. I would miss Chicago but at least I was going to be my own family.”
Hailey and Jay looked at each other in realization. So that's why she was running? She just wanted to belong. 
“I know the system's not perfect Olivia, but running is not the solution,” Jay said calmly. “How would you live? And the people who know you? They would be worried as hell.”
“We would be worried as hell,” Hailey said. 
Jay nodded, “We would be the first ones looking for you out there.” Olivia smiled softly at that.
“Will you let us help?” Hailey asked.
“Mm-hmm, okay.” Olivia honestly had no idea how they could help, but it was worth a try, wasn’t it?
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Here we go! How you guys like this chapter? Thank you again for all the love on the previous chapters!
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cocogrrrl · 1 year
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the wingmen
wendy needs you to accompany her date with stan. luckily, you're not the only one accompanying someone. kyle broflovski x gn!reader no cws wc: 1427
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“Please, YN. Stan’s bringing a friend along too!” Wendy pleaded on the phone.
You were listening to your best friend, Wendy, trying to convince you to come with her since she’ll be hanging out with Stan later.
Initially, you declined, seeing how, whenever this happens, you’re always left to your own devices by the side. You didn’t think badly of Wendy for this—no way—you just believe that you could be doing something more productive. However, seeing how someone else will also be a victim of their intense affection, you reconsidered your choice.
“Sure,” you said hesitantly. “Do either of us know who it is?”
“Oh, my gosh! Thank you!” She exclaimed as her excitement could be easily heard from your phone. “I don’t know if you know him, but Stan’s bringing Kyle along.”
You were trying to recall who that was. Although you hung out with Stan often because of Wendy, you didn’t know who his friends were. Though, you could vaguely remember what he looked like. “The tall guy who studies law?”
“Yeah, him! He’s Stan’s best friend, actually.”
Huh, you do see Stan hang out with him a lot whenever he wasn’t with Wendy. Perhaps Kyle’s around whenever you aren’t—hopefully, this means that he’s also endured the Wendy-Stan third-wheel experience. However, that’s just wishful thinking.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
As you were on the way to the diner, where the four of you would meet up, anxiety started to bubble up in your system.
What if you and this Kyle guy had nothing in common? What if you screw up and make a bad first impression? What if he doesn’t like you? What if he doesn’t want to talk to you at all?
So many questions and what-ifs were in your head. Whenever it’s just the three of you, you already feel so awkward. To add another person to the mix? That sounds disastrous. It’s not like you could do anything, though, because you had just arrived right now.
Wendy dragged you through the glass doors of the homely and cozy little diner, immediately spotting Stan and Kyle and dragging you to the booth where they sat at.
“Hi, YN,” Stan said nonchalantly. He turned to Kyle and said, “Uh, this is Kyle.” He simply waved at you. Although he seemed polite, your brain automatically assumed he wanted nothing to do with you.
“So I’ve heard.” You nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyle.” You returned the wave to him.
“You too.” He replied.
You two didn’t really talk one-on-one after that. Unfortunately, it was mostly Wendy and Stan carrying the conversations. Occasionally they’ll ask you about something, or Kyle would add a witty remark to something Stan said. It wasn’t the worst thing ever since Kyle’s stillness was comfortable, but it wasn’t going that great, either.
Deciding to give the two a little less time to focus on you two and more on them, you excuse yourself outside for a smoke. However, after a few minutes, you found out you weren’t about to stand there alone either.
You heard a knock on the door you exited. Quickly, you turned to see who it was—Kyle. “Hey.” You welcomed. “You want one?” You asked, offering a cig to him.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” He shook his head as he stood beside you.
“Oh, so why’d you come out here then?’ You peered. You didn’t mean anything bad by that—you were just confused. Clearly, he isn’t outside to smoke or vape or anything, so why did he even go out here in the first place?
“I wanted to give the two lovebirds some time to focus on each other. You know how they are, I assume.” You simply nodded to his statement. Maybe he’s also experienced being the third wheel.
“I also wanted to get to know you better.” He quickly muttered out that last part. He said it so suddenly, so you didn’t get to make out what he said.
“What was that?”
“Well, it would be a shame if I wasted all my time not being able to talk to someone as alluring as you are.”
You broke the peaceful silence between you two. “I’m not as impressed as your line as I am with the word alluring.” You two suddenly broke into a brief fit of laughter at your brutal honesty.
“I’ve never heard anyone use the word alluring ever!” You said in between giggles. “To hear you say that really caught me off guard.”
For a while, you two clicked right off the bat. It felt so easy talking to him. It felt so easy being with him. You didn’t realize it at first, but maybe you liked him.
I guess you shouldn’t be surprised; he was an attractive guy who was extremely respectful but also hilarious. No wonder you like him. That’s a combination of qualities you barely find anywhere.
“You like The Cure too?” He beamed. 
“Yeah! I’m seeing them next week since they’re headlining a nearby festival. Are you gonna see them too?”  You asked, sharing the same excitement as him.
“Oh, I didn’t get to buy tickets since, when I checked, the prices were listed for really pricey already.”
“Actually,” you paused. “I was thinking of bringing Wendy since I have an extra ticket. If you’re not busy, do you want to come with me?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, totally.” You smiled.
“I would’ve never thought that Wendy also listens to them as well. Sorry, I can’t. I just feel mean for taking her ticket.”
“Oh, don’t worry! I kinda just wanted to drag her along since I have no one else to go with. She actually doesn't really listen to them.” You awkwardly laughed to yourself. “I’m guessing you’ll make more out of the ticket than her.”
“Sure, but only if she agrees to that and only if you let me pay for how much you spent on it.”
“Kyle, no, you don’t have to pay-”
“Nope. Those are my only conditions if you want me to go with you.” He said with a smug grin.
“Well, if you insist. I’ll ask Wendy if it’s okay with her if you’ll go with me instead. Is that okay with you?”
“It’s definitely okay with me, YN.” You heard a bubbly and shrill voice come from your left. Immediately, the two of you turned your heads to see Wendy and Stan giggling at the sight of the two of you, blushes forming on your cheeks.
“How long have you two been standing there for?” Kyle asked, both of you hoping that they didn’t hear much of your conversation.
“Long enough for me to hear YN asking you out. You scored well, YN!” She gave you a thumbs up, high-fiving Stan at the same time.
“I’m honestly disappointed in you, YN. Why didn’t you offer me the ticket?” Stan asked. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but it was probably the latter.
“I am not asking my best friend’s boyfriend to go to a concert with just me. That’s weird.” You rolled your eyes, although you meant that light-heartedly.
“Aaaanyways,” Wendy cooed. “We’re paying the bill, and we’re all splitting, yeah? We need you guys to come back in to sort it out.” She said before she and Stan made their way back into the diner—leaving just the two of you again.
There was an awkward silence that fell between you two. Luckily, Kyle was the first to break it.
“Now that you have Wendy’s permission, how much was that ticket?”
“I’m not too sure, to be honest. I’ll check later when I get back home. Is that fine?”
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry.” He grinned. “Can I have your number, though?”
That question took you by surprise. “Wait, why?” You asked while you handed your phone out to him.
“So you can text me how much the ticket was. Why? What did you think I was gonna say?” He returned with a voice that sounded genuine yet smug as well.
“Ah, I thought you were really interested in me.” You joked.
“What makes you think I’m not?” He said, handing you back your phone as he typed on his.
Suddenly, you got a text on your phone.
???, 9:47 PM hello alluring ;)
You looked back up at him and rolled your eyes while also laughing at his sweet little message.
“We should head back in now.” You suggested, making your way back to the door.
He followed behind you. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.”
“Now that’s a more normal word for attractive.”
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yangkitties · 5 months
Text
bros before hoes ✰ chapter 06: new MCs in town
wc: 0.6k
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The contrast of your stylist’s cold fingers against your warm face feels jarring, giving you something else to feel other than jittery nerves.
You concentrate on the way she carefully places each strand of your hair, pushing and twirling it to perfection. You watch the mirror intently, observing the way your face transforms. 
It feels natural, like stepping into your home after going on vacation. 
But even your intense focus couldn’t deter the course of your anxiety, mind swarming with what ifs. 
Being on stage had never scared you. You’d been performing for as long as you could remember, from school shows to award shows, the stage has always been your safe place. But today it was different. 
Although you had done several run throughs with and without Sunghoon, going on stage to MC gave you butterflies. 
You vaguely hear your stage queue as the stylist helps you, adjusting your outfit one more time. You like it, it’s simple, yet classy, and gives you enough confidence to not turn back and run away. 
As you get closer to the stage, you spot Sunghoon. You can’t help but gasp at his appearance, decked to match you. It makes you heart race and your cheeks burn, and you swear you fall a little bit in love with him. 
You stand next to him, nervously shuffling and un-shuffling your cue cards. He gently places his hand on yours, halting your moments. You turn to him in shock, only to be greeted by a calming smile. 
‘It’ll be fine. Don’t be too nervous, you were great during our rehearsals, you’ll do well now too.’ You smile at him, grateful for his presence. 
The music cue begins, and suddenly you’re emceeing with the ease. 
You remember to laugh in all the right places, ask the right questions, and welcome each artist. Every second is a bit of a blur, the time flying. 
Soon enough you’re off stage, letting out a huge breath. Your shoulders relax, body hunching over in relief. You can hear Sunghoon laugh beside you, joining you as you walk back to your dressing room. 
He smiles, ‘You were a natural up there! You did so well.’ You smile in response, glad to hear his natural voice again.
‘And you were incredible too. I thought I’d-’ Your words get cut off as Sunghoon comes to an abrupt stop. Following his line of vision, you instantly spot what got him to stop.
Tsuki. There she was, in all her pink haired glory. For a second, everything feels weird. And then you’re swept off your feet as she hugs you, laughing in your ears. 
‘Y/NNIE YOU WERE SO GREAT ON STAGE! I watched the entire thing from my phone while waiting for you, oh I wish I could’ve seen it on the big monitor!!’ She looks at you with a bright smile, hugging you again. 
Laughing, you hug her back. ‘Thank you Tsuki, that means the world.’ You smile at her, glad to have her with you. 
You finally realise Sunghoon standing towards the side, twisting his rings again. He looks wide eyed, the tips of his ears a flaming crimson. He awkwardly clears his throat, waiting for you to introduce him.
‘Oh! Tsuki, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, Tsuki!’ You smile brightly, swallowing everything you felt. 
Sunghoon raises his hand in timid greeting, face somehow turning even more red. Tsuki seems oddly skeptical, waving back to him. 
She bows slightly, ‘Nice to meet you, but we have to go unfortunately! See you next time.’ She drags you away into the dressing room, shutting the door firmly behind her. 
You want to be bothered by her weirdness really, but as you move to change for the rest of your schedules, you are too happy to care. Today was a success, and you were determined to carry this feeling with you for the rest of the day. 
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synopsis > with the help of fukutomi tsuki, park y/n finally gains the courage to face their long time crush, the one and only, park sunghoon. park sunghoon thinks it's love at first sight when he sees her. paired up as the new mcs of music bank, shenanigans ensue when y/n learns about sunghoon's crush...
note: yawl i am so sorry... i rlly dont mean to keep disappearing >:(
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©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost
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sweet-villain · 8 months
Text
My Heart Stands Still~ E.M
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Angst
Summary: Eddie is dealing with your death.
Summary : I'm sorry this is short, but I needed to write this as I am dealing with losing someone.
The feeling of losing someone you love is an indescribable pain that cuts deep into your heart. It's a pain that consumes you, leaving you with a heavy weight on your chest and tears constantly streaming down your face. 
The thought of never being able to see or talk to them again is unbearable. You find yourself crying at the smallest reminder of them - a familiar scent, a song that you used to listen to together, or even a simple memory. Every little thing seems to trigger a wave of emotions and tears.
That is how Eddie felt as he stood standing with everyone else that knew you. That loved you. That cared deeply for you. Your friends and your loved once. But they didn't know the feeling like Eddie.
He loved you.
He feels like a part of him has been taken away, a part of him that he would never get back. The sadness and the grief seems never ending and he wondered when will he ever move on. Will he move on?
The realization that he will never hear your voice or feel your touch again is like a knife to his heart. His mind is flooded with regrets and what ifs, and he starts to question every moment that he had with you.
He wished he could turn back time and cherish every second, but it's too late. The pain of losing you, the person he love is not just emotional, it's psychical too. It's a constant ache in his chest that makes it hard for him to breathe.
It feels like he is suffocating, drowning in his own tears.
The world around him seems to continue on, but he feels stuck in never ending cycle of grief.
He tried finding comfort in his memories, his friends, his band, talking to Wayne, but they only brought him more tears. More anger too.
It's a rollercoaster of emotions, from anger and disbelief to sadness and numbness. He couldn't feel anything close to what he felt when you were here. It's the thought of facing life without you is daunting and overwhelming. How was he suppose to graduate? How was he suppose to get his first gig? His first dance? Without you. It seems impossible.
But through all the tears and pain, he holds onto the love you two shared. He holds onto the moments that made him laugh and the memories that brought him joy.
The first smile you gave him. The first sparkle in your eye when he said your name. The first time he made you laugh. The first lame joke he shared with you. The first time you came over. The first kiss. The first hug. The first hand holding. The first time you told him you loved him.
He holds onto every note you have given him. It's stored underneath his bed.
But then there was anger. Eddie couldn't help but go back to it.
The anger that he felt in the situation had been all consuming, as he struggled to make sense to why this happened. He found himself asking, " Why her? Why now? We were happy. Why did she leave me?'These questions may have never been answered, leaving him frustrated.
He felt anger at himself, too.
He wasn't able to protect you at your final moments. You didn't listen to him. You didn't stay.
You chose your own path with danger staring right at you.
" Eddie? Are you in here?" he heard banging on his bedroom door. His head turns, glancing at it and rolls his eyes knowing that Dustin is the one that would keep bugging him on where he was. He just want to wallow in his own tears.
They didn't know what's like. Dustin had Suzy. El had Mike. Robin had Vicky. Max had Lucas. Nancy had Jonathan. Steve had someone. Blah.
" We're worried about you, Eddie" he heard Robin's voice this time. They all had ears to the door hoping to hear some sort of life behind the door.
Eddie laid on his unmade bed, with a photo of you two on his chest as he holds it to himself. He has no more tears to shed and he doesn't remember the last time he took a shower as piles of clothes lay on the floor, his back pack is opened with his notes all over the floor.
He hasn't worked on a new campaign in months, even. He hasn't been going to band practice either.
Everyone was better off without Eddie. That's what he thought.
It felt like everyone else moved on from you, only Eddie was the one to have his world stopped. Because you died and he couldn't save you. He wasn't there.
It wasn't fair.
" We're here for you, bud" he hears the sound of Steve's voice. " You're not going through this alone" he adds. Eddie rolls his eyes.
Yeah, like Steve knew what he was going through.
" Please" he hears Max say. " I know your in there, it's all going to be okay" she adds with a broken voice, he can hear her trying to hold it together.
" She was our friend, she was our best friend. Eddie..." Nancy says.
They sighed when they saw that the door was not going to be opened. They all waited and waited, sitting outside in hopes that Eddie would walk through the door.
It wasn't until about midnight when the door finally opened. Heads shot up and feet scrambled off the ground as they all looked towards the door.
He finally stepped out. He looked like he hasn't slept in days. There wasn't much color to his face. His hair was ragged and looked like some butter ran through on top of his hair.
Eddie held a picture frame in his arms and he was dressed in one of your hoodies that you had given to him.
It doesn't smell like you anymore, sadly. But you wore it for him many times before you were gone.
Eddie's lips quivered and tears ran down his cheeks as he collapses to the ground in a harsh cry.
Arms wrap around him as they hold him up. He leans onto them like they were going to vanish into the air. Max is holding Eddie, as she hold him tight showing him she wasn't going anywhere. He sobs into her shirt, soaking it with tears.
" Why her.... why..." Eddie keeps repeating through his sobs. Eddie couldn't see everyone's faces as they cried along with him, missing you and wishing you were still here.
It wasn't fair that you were the one to be taken away from them. To deal with this pain.
You didn't deserve it.
Steve wiped his tears with the back of his hands as he catches Robin's eye. They shared a look upon one another that understood the other what it meant.
They weren't going to let you disappear. You left a mark on their lives.
You were their friend.
There was so many memories made.
Your death wasn't going to be forgotten.
The sniffling coming from Eddie has stopped as he rose his head from Max and looks down at the picture he's holding. His fingers brush over your face, your happy and smiling face and his raises his head up as he stared at his friends.
" I want revenge"
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sapphistically · 6 days
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the leather jacket
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read on ao3 | masterlist/s
description: you’re having a bad day and spike runs into you, a conversation sparks and you realise you might actually feel something for him.
relationship: spike & reader
a/n: in my mind reader is fem, but idk if i specified it anywhere? they are wearing a dress, but that’s mentioned once, in the beginning.
wc: 1140
You sat down on a bench, it was dark, there was only one lantern a couple meters away from where you were. You felt the cold air caressing your bare arms and calves, as your skirt reached a little below your knees. It was hard, adjusting to living like this, living and haunting demons while you had your own demons haunting you, for a good while now, life was just, too much. Buffy’s life seemed to be piecing together, Willow met Tara and was obviously in love, Xander started to work and had Anya, you were just… there.
Wishes and what ifs filled your thoughts, you wanted to go back to high school, when it was just the Scooby Gang, when you had Cordelia, who you were close with at the time, you two were always outcasted to an extent, she was especially after Xander cheated on her, that’s when you distanced yourself more from him, while Willow always seemed honestly sorry, he never did. It was never the same after that, while you enjoyed spending time with them, you just never got that close again and your life seemed to go down hill from that ever since.
You watched people passing by in distance, you felt so empty, like someone cut a whole in you that could never be filled, today was especially bad and all everyone cared about was demons and other strange creatures of the dark to fight. A set of footsteps caught your attention, it was getting closer to you, you looked over to see a face you recognised, but haven’t seen in a while.
His hair was still platinum, combed back, he had his leather jacket on per usual and a funeral like — all black — outfit. Your eyes stopped at his face, he tilted his head, as he just stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, you could swear you saw his eyes soften for a brief moment, before they went back to being cold as usual.
“What’s wrong?” He said and the question took you aback for a second, you parted your lips ready to answer, but ended up biting your own tongue in time.
“What do you want, Spike?” Your voice was calm, almost emotionless, a chill run down your spine as the wind blew again, creating goosebumps on your skin.
“What? What do I want?” Spike let out a scoff, as he relaxed more, now standing in a less of a dull position. “Do I always have to want something?”
“Well, you usually do so… What is it?”
He scoffed again, you could feel your hands clenching slightly at that, he was bothering you and now wouldn’t even say what he wanted.
You just focused back on the people you could see in the windows of the dorm rooms, those passing nearby or those going out, probably to party. You kept a mental note of the fact that he was still there, his gaze was lingering on you and you could feel it. He eventually moved to sit down next to you, you glanced at him, your gaze paused on him, as you noticed his eyes softened again.
“If you’re hoping to see Buffy, she’s not coming.”
“Oh right, the slayer…What a loss.” He said, his tone more playful now, you just glanced between him and the passers by.
Silence fell between you two for a moment, he was just… sitting there and so were you, you didn’t really mind or care as long as he didn’t annoy you too much, it was quite nice, having company wasn’t so bad, even if it meant his company.
“Something is wrong.” Spike said, catching your attention, you turned to him, this time focusing on him. “What’s wrong, hm? Maybe I can help out.”
“I don’t need your help. Or want it.”
“Gee, no wonder you’re sitting alone.”
Ouch.
Your lips lightly pouted, it was instinctual, your head moved down as you looked at him with hurt in your eyes.
“Well, you’re sitting with me. So…”
“So what? You’re not alone? You’re in my company, a bloody vampires and not your ‘my little pony’ friend group?”
You let out a sight answering with a simple, “No.”
He took out a flask bottle out of his coat, he took a long sip, moving it towards you with a raise of a brow.
“What is it?”
“Apple juice— What do you think it is?” He scoffed.
“God you’re insufferable.” You mumbled taking it from his hand and taking a huge sip yourself.
It didn’t take long for you to get more talkative, you had a pretty weak head when it came to alcohol, you were shivering by then, the cold becoming unbearable. You began to think how cool was the fact that the cold couldn’t affect him, he was dead after all and probably cold himself as well… you stopped your train of thought there, because why on earth were you thinking if he was hot— warm or cold.
“You’re shivering.” He noticed, his voice was deep, he took his jacket off. He moved it onto your shoulders, allowing you to adjust it, so you did, doing your best to cover up as much as you could, it just ended with you putting it on fully.
You smiled lightly at him, your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, “Thanks.”
“So you were saying…” He clears his throat as he takes another sip of the drink.
“Right… Um… What was I…” You frowned your brows, your mind was fuzzy, each thought went in and out within seconds, not letting you to focus on anything. He seemed to notice you struggled with putting it together so he just spoke for now.
“Well truth be told, the… whatever you called them gang… they are not as half as cool as you are, I mean, think of that prat Xander.”
You just nodded in an agreement, there was something in common between you, a human, struggling mentally and a blood thirsty, old as time vampire — your hate for Xander Harris.
“I— I don’t know…” You shook your head, drinking more, the flask was almost empty. “It’s all just… I’m just… Tired.” You looked down as you spoke, voicing it all felt a little too real.
“God this is so depressing.”
“Is it? I think that’s just you, love.” He smiles lightly at you, making you smile, he had a pretty smile… wait what?
God.
“You know what… I- I need to go.” You got up, giving him back the flask, unable to say much you just… took off. You could hear him yelling a couple of “hold up” after you, but you kept on walking, you eventually reached your dorm room, you walked inside.
You took your leather jacket off, but it wasn’t yours, was it?
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Text
From Vormir, With Love - Part 6
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, survivor guilt, suicide ideations, will add as we go on
Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.
Word count: 2.7k
A/n: it's hard to realize how fast time goes by sometimes. Also i know some people are asking for a tag list but i kinda lost track so i'm sorry but i won't make one i think :/
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You go back to Clint's the same day, late at night, in the car you borrowed while everyone else went to Tony Stark's funeral. Your dad's words are still resonating inside your mind, despite trying your hardest to ignore them. You don't know what to do, or what decision to make. Lucky for you, something is there to distract you when you arrive in the form of the lights being on on the porch of the house. You frown; it's almost 2am, so you expected everyone to be asleep at this point. But no. You recognize the redhead sitting on the bench and a slight wave of worry washes over you. Why was she still awake? Did something happen? You exit the car and close the door as silently as you can before you join the spy on the porch. She's holding a beer in her hands, and you guess it's not her first one seeing a few empty vessels are down on the windowsill behind her.
"Did something happen?"
Natasha looks up at you with a questioning eye at your worried tone, then it dawns on her she must look pretty miserable, so she shake her head to answer you.
"No, nothing happened. Just… grieving. It feels weird after arboring so much hope." The high of hoping to see their plan succeed against the cost of it. She clears her throat that started to constrict again, and offers you the seat next to her. "Care to join me?"
You agree, and she grabs a bottle to give to you from the cooler on the other side of the bench. You take it and open it in one swift move. She bring her bottle closer to yours for a small toast.
"To saving the world, and the heroes we lost."
"To coming back to a life you don't want," you answer in kind.
You clink your bottles together. Both of you drink. There is a lull in the night that you both enjoy, before you break the silence first. You're hesitant at first.
"You know… for what it's worth, I'm really sorry. It must be really hard."
She sighs after taking a swig of the beer. It stings, the loss, but more so, the what ifs. What if she'd been there, what if she could have saved him. Obviously, it likely wouldn't have changed the final result, but maybe, just maybe… she lets out a sigh.
"Sorry about your reunion with your parents. Sounds like it didn't go so well." She prefers to change the subject. No point in wallowing now. You take the change of topic gracefully, understanding she wishes to talk about something else.
"It went well, actually. We're having a barbecue on sunday. You and the crew are invited."
She snorts, then raises an eyebrow when she realizes you're serious. She tilts her head and pinches her lips. "You know what? Sure, I'll be there. Maybe I can go as your date," she offers with a wink.
Your heart skips a beat at those words and you blink a few times. Your date? Wait, is she serious? You look at her, trying to read her and make sure you're not hallucinating. There is a bit of a blush on her cheeks, but you quickly attribute it to her drinking. She's probably just slightly drunk and teasing you, you reason before you roll your eyes.
"Sure, why not," you answer, now certain that there's nothing serious there. "Just get ready 'cause my mom is going to ask you a lot of questions."
"I faced death and came back, I'm sure I can deal with her. I'm very charming."
You both laugh and you shake your head, drinking more of your beer. You were glad to see that at least she could still laugh even on this heavy day. You have no idea that it's because she feels so much lighter now that you agreed to have her be your date, after she got to reflect on the fleeting nature of life some more, and finally decide to take the plunge one way or another.
"Well, as charming as you are, I think I need to get some rest," you admit with a yawn that you hide behind your hand, your eyes watering with your need to sleep. It is 2am after all. It makes Natasha smiles at how cute you are, right as she nods.
"Alright, I'll join you soon. Oh, and careful in the living room, someone is sleeping on the sofa."
"Explains what you're doing outside." You put your hands on your knees, ready to get up.
"Truthfully? I was also waiting for you," she admits with a slight blush. You're surprised at the admission and almost lose your balance trying to get up. You almost can't believe your ears, but as usual, you decide to ignore the way her words make you feel. You turn around to look at her and try to not notice the way the pink of her cheeks makes you want to caress them and lean forward to kiss her, or how fragile she suddenly looks from where you're standing.
"You were?"
"Someone had to tell you we had another guest." She arches a teasing eyebrow. There is another reason, not so obvious to you, but she likes to keep you on your toes. You laugh behind your hand and nod.
"Obviously. Alright. Good night, Natasha."
She smiles at you, it is more tender than anything she ever said to you so far. "Good night. And thank you for checking on me."
"Anytime."
You then disappear inside the house, careful not to wake up the sleeping form on the couch, and go to your room. You easily fall asleep, and after you do, you're joined by a sleepy redhead who, after a minute of internal debate, finds a way into your arms. After all, you said yes to a date with her, didn't you?
*
You frown as you awaken, feeling something tickling your face. You scrunch up your nose and get your face out of… what was it even? You opened an eye only to be met with red and blond hair everywhere up in your face. That's when you notice that Natasha is in your arms, keeping you warm and cozy and, oh god you're blushing like crazy now that you notice what your hand is. You quickly take it off and get a groan from the smaller woman.
The sound of protest makes you blush even more, so you decide to find a way out of there really fast, or as fast as you can considering that extracting yourself without waking the woman is as easy as taking a bear cub from its mama bear. But, against all odds, you succeed and leave for the bathroom. There, you take the time for your heart to calm down and your blush to recede before heading downstairs.
How did you end up in that position? You aren't particularly cuddly during the night, at least not accidentally, so something must have happened. You just hoped Natasha didn't notice anything.
When you arrive downstairs, you notice that you're not the first one awake. There is a woman with long red hair there too, and you recognize Wanda Maximoff. She must have been the surprise guest who was staying on the sofa last night. You offer her a nod.
"Hi. Y/n," you introduce yourself.
"Wanda," she goes, and you grab some of the coffee she made. She seems lost in her thoughts, and you notice the rim of red around her eyes, like she cried. You're unsure about what to do before you take a seat opposite from her.
"I'm sorry for your loss," you try, and it startles her. She scoffs.
"Everyone keeps saying that, it doesn't feel like it means anything anymore." You nervously wet your lips and play with your mug. She's not done. "You don't even know me, you know nothing of my grief."
She's being a bit of an ass, but you decide it was okay considering she looks at the end of her life.
"I don't, you're right. Doesn't mean I can't feel your sorrow and want to take a chunk of it away for you."
"Is that what it is? Or is it just pity?"
With those words, she stands up, jaw set and tears filling her eyes. She leaves the room, and you sigh. You have no idea what she's going through, and you feel bad for her, but there is nothing you can do about it. You stay in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, when Clint joins you. He notices Wanda is missing and sends you a questioning look in case you know anything.
"I tried to be civil," you simply say, and with a frown, he goes outside to try and comfort Wanda. Once again, you stay inside. Clearly you're not close enough to be of any help whatsoever, no matter how bad you feel for the woman.
Lucky for you, you don't have to think about it much longer when other people start to pour inside the kitchen. Apparently being able to properly rest is conducive to getting up early. You make small talk while you drink your coffee peacefully, until Natasha shows up.
You blush upon remembering the way you woke up, and try to act natural when she comes and sits next to you.
"Good morning," she says your way after greeting everyone else, her hand ghosting over your thigh briefly. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest and you tense slightly, awaiting the contact, but it never comes. Feeling your tension, Natasha decides against touching you. Maybe it was too soon for you, and she doesn't want to push you. "How are you doing?"
You force yourself to relax slightly, and a smile comes naturally when you answer her.
"Pretty good, but I don't think the new girl likes me."
"Give her time. She needs to heal first." You nod at Natasha's wisdom, even if you have no idea what she's talking about.
"I guess Tony mattered a lot to her, huh."
"Not really. It's more complicated than that. Don't worry about it too much." And with that, she captures your hand briefly. You can only nod in answer, and breathe again when she lets go of the contact. You immediately miss it and the way it makes you feel. The conversation from yesterday comes back to you and you think it's a good idea to actually ask what she meant when she offered to be your date, especially since you agreed.
"On another note," you start, "what did you–"
Before you can ask anything more a crashing sound came from outside and you both immediately stood up ready to fight. June comes running and turns to Natasha.
"Your friend is losing it, you need to do something."
"I need to go save Clint's ass. Talk later?" She offers and you nod, dumbfounded. Seems like you actually could have gotten in a lot of troubles by upsetting Wanda.
"Yeah, definitely. Hum, good luck. I feel like you might need it."
Natasha smirks, then puts her game face on before she goes through the door. There is a beat of silence between you and June before you decide that you might as well ask her opinion.
"So, I have a question," you start very hesitantly. Your friend gets her hand up almost in your face, as if she already knows what you're about to ask.
"Don't bother, I already know."
"You do?" You arch an eyebrow, and it doesn't stop June.
"You need to bang it out with superspy."
You sputter, blush, frown, and look at the woman in front of you.
"What the hell June?!"
"What? Don't tell me it wasn't about her!"
"It was, but come on!"
"I said my piece then." You bang your head on the table, and June looks out the window to see how the situation is going. She sees she still has time to keep going and sits opposite from you. "Okay, just, listen, I think she likes you, and I know you like her! Don't let it go to waste. We lost enough of our lives like that."
Of course, June has a point, whether you like it or not. You feel something for Natasha, but you're too scared to act upon it, and if she feels the same - which you doubt - she isn't going to wait forever for you, so you have to act. Or at least ask if you're right to doubt there is anything there instead of assuming. Be brave. You owe it to her.
"Alright, alright," you concede with a sigh. "I'll talk to her."
"Finally." She looks up at the sky in silent thanks and you roll your eyes at her theatrics. You decide it's time to give her a bit of a heart attack in turn.
"How is it going with Carol, by the way?" You ask in turn, a smirk adorning your lips. A very light blush takes root on her cheek. Got her.
Her answer comes in the form of a finger.
*
"Do you need some help with that?" You offer when you catch Natasha alone in your bedroom.
You came upstairs to tell her food is ready, and she was taking care of a cut in her back. Calming down Wanda went poorly, and even if she seemed apologetic after the facts, it wasn't going to heal the redhead's bruises. It was unfair, but you understood that grief could make you do crazy things.
"I could do with some help." Her admission is small.
You approach Natasha slowly and sit on the bed next to her, a leg under you, grabbing the first aid kit for some disinfectant and gauze. Carefully, she surrenders the material she's holding on the side of the kit and turns around so her back is facing you. You look at her skin which is peppered with scars, and you can only imagine all she went through. All the hurt, all the trauma, everything that led to her being in front of you right now, so vulnerable.
You start your work carefully. You learned how to take care of cuts and bruises during your travels.
"Do you ever wish you could take someone's place?" She asks you in the religious silence. There is a tremor in her voice that clues you in how serious the conversation is. You swallow your jokes and answer truthfully.
"The first few months after the abduction I did. Then I realized it meant someone else would be in my place so I stopped."
"I do. To take off the pain from my friends." Her words made no sense at first, but as you thought about it, you realized she is talking about lessening the pain of Wanda. Taking the place of her lover who died long ago now, but only moments before for the witch. Carol told you everything in a way only someone who wished they had been there could.
"Displacing people's grief wouldn't really lessen the pain. Just make it different."
"I still think I could have… maybe if I stayed…"
She can't bring herself to finish her sentence, but you understand. If she were dead maybe things would be different.
She hangs her head low. You sigh, almost groan at her truth. You finish patching her up, and lay your hand against her back. Against her scars. Her past laid bare against your palm.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here with us." With me, you don't add but still think so loudly you're sure she can hear you. If she understands the subtext, she says nothing about it.
"Thank you," she simply answers, still looking away, but relaxing against your touch. It's a moment of vulnerability, but more importantly of trust. It lasts until a shiver runs along her spine with the cold. She smoothly puts back her shirt and you put your hand away. She gets up, and when she turns around, she has a shy smile directed at you.
"I can smell the food, should we join everyone?" She extends a hand towards you, and you take it. In a swift move, she helps you up and brings you against her in a hug. "Thank you."
You hold her, hum when she rubs her nose against your neck, your heart ready to burst. You wish for this moment to last forever against your better judgment.
Damn you're in deep.
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hand-picked-star · 3 months
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The 13th Anniversary Arshi fiesta
Moodboard : Historical AU
Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 09
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I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.
I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Chapter 9
Arnav lay awake in the dimly lit room, the weight of the inevitable suffocating him. His arms felt like lead, every movement a struggle against the gravity of his despair. His body, usually full of restless energy, now lay still and drained. But it was his heart that weighed the heaviest.
For so long, he had carried this heartbreak, but never before had it felt so unbearable. Each breath was a reminder of the emptiness inside him, a void that seemed to grow with each passing moment. The memories flooded his mind like a torrential downpour, drowning him in regrets and what-ifs.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he missed the soft knocks the first two times. The third knock jolted him with surprise. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a familiar face he hadn't expected to see.
There she stood, draped in a white salwar kameez, her hair unkempt and loose. But it was her face that shattered Arnav into a million pieces. Her once-beautiful hazel eyes, now rimmed with red, stood out starkly against her ghostly pale face. Each delicate feature seemed to tremble under the weight of her inner turmoil, casting shadows where there was once light. Her gaze fixed on him with clenched fists and body frozen in place. The struggle to contain her emotions was palpable, evident in the quiver of her lip and the tense line of her jaw.
Arnav, momentarily stunned, sprang into action. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked urgently. Khushi didn't respond. Instead, she barged into the room quietly. After checking to ensure no one had seen them, Arnav closed the door quickly. "Khushi, why are you here so late at night? You need to go back to your room right now. What if someone sees you coming to my room?" he whispered, trying to keep his voice low but forceful.
As she remained unresponsive, Arnav sighed. He gently took her elbow, guiding her to sit in the desk chair before seating himself opposite her. "What happened Khushi? batao mujhe."
Khushi had the whole conversation set in her head, but now that he was in front of her, words seemed lost to her. Her eyes fixed on her wringing hands, her lips quivered as she struggled to form a single sentence."I don't want to marry him."
"Oh," Arnav said as realization dawned on him. "Okay, I'll talk with Chachu. Don't worry."
" I don't want to marry anyone else, either," she murmured, still looking down.
A moment later, when Khushi glanced up and looked at Arnav with pleading innocent eyes, he wished she had remained looking down instead. "Don't you love me at all?" Her voice caught at the word 'love'.
How could anyone possibly answer such a question if it were asked by the love of their life? Now it was Arnav's turn to look down at his hands.He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the moment like a nightmare.
Khushi continued with a barely-there voice, "If you don't, then tell me to my face."
"What?" Arnav whispered. His bewildered gaze snapped up to meet hers.
"Okay, I'll go first," she said with a quivering voice, "I love you." Two pairs of beautiful eyes gazed at each other, one hazel and the other caramel brown. They were having their own conversation beyond the comprehension of mortal language.
Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. "Since when, I don't know, but I do. And I want to spend my life with you," she said in a breath unless she lost her courage. And then, she looked away.
The words floated between them, desperate to be acknowledged and cherished like their owner. Collecting herself, she started again, "And if you don't feel the same way, then tell me that you don't love me... that you've never loved me... I need to hear it from you... maybe then I can move on without the what-ifs haunting me at night." Her voice cracked with emotion.
Arnav marvelled at the bravery of the slip of a girl before him, her beauty magnified by her courage. Tears streamed down his face unabated ever since she had confessed, each drop a testament to the storm raging within him. His heart yearned to sweep her away from these harsh realities and keep her hidden somewhere far from all of these heartbreaks. Her vulnerable yet hopeful gaze was begging for a response that he struggled to articulate, caught between the weight of his emotions and the gravity of the situation. Looking down, he pressed his fists in his eyes, " Don't ask me to say that I don't love you."
" Why?" she pressed further, "Why can't you just say it out loud if it isn't true?"
"BECAUSE I DO, DAMN IT!" he snapped, not able to contain himself, revealing his deepest, darkest secret. He hadn't meant to, but the words had burst from him uncontrollably, unleashing the truth he had guarded with utmost care.
He started pacing the room. His fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as if trying to unravel the turmoil within him. The air felt heavy, tension hanging like a living, breathing being, as Khushi stared at him in wide-eyed bewilderment, tinged with joy and astonishment.
There was a spark in her eyes that wasn't there a few moments ago—a glimmer of hope she needed to chase. Nothing could stop her today. "Then why? Why are you denying your feelings?" Her voice carried a mix of frustration and anguish as she began to pace behind him as well with her suffocating questions."Kyun de rahe hain apni aapko itni takleef aur saath saath mein hume bhi?"
Arnav abruptly turned around and grabbed her upper arms on both sides. He pulled her body close to his. ''Don't you get it, Khushi? You deserve so much more, and I can't give them to you. I don't even have a steady job, no family to support us and not even a home of my own." Each word was punctuated by a shake. "When the initial bliss fades, you'll resent me for putting you through this. Love doesn't put food on the table Khushi." His grip tightened slightly, a plea for her to understand the harsh reality he was laying bare. "Ye duniya pyaar ki bhaasha nahi samajhti, ye duniya waise hi bedard aur patthar dil hain jaise hamesha thi." Releasing Khushi, he turned his back to her.
Khushi looked upward, desperately wanting her tears to stop. A suffocating silence filled the space between them. "So, you're letting me go, just like that? Without even trying? " she asked, her voice trembling.
When she got no response, she got her answer in his silence. She continued softly, "One day, you will have all of these things. I hope they bring you happiness,...... even if I'm not there with you." She paused, her body turning numb with each passing second. "Because I don't see myself being happy surrounded by all the things that you think I deserve,..... without you," she whispered.
Arnav closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. ''You will be happy, Khushi. You shouldn't have loved someone like me in the first place. Soon, you'll find someone you'll fall madly in love with, and you'll forget about me.''
"You don't get to tell me how I will feel or won't feel. If you had told me this two years ago when I was confused, I might have entertained your suggestion. But I have thought about it day and night, and my feelings for you haven't changed a bit in these past two years. My heart still beats the same way, despite you hurting me so much. So, You, Arnav Singh Raizada, Don't tell me what to feel and what not to feel. Samjhe App ?" She said with angry tears running down her face.
She was not finished though "And you are right. I shouldn't have loved someone like you...and if this is the way you love,.... I don't want to be a woman that you love either."
She knew exactly what she was doing. Fueled by anger and hurt, her initial intent was to inflict as much pain on him as possible. But when he turned around, the pain in his eyes quenched the words on her lips. But she had to do this one thing for herself, she mustered all her strength for one last time and said "Goodbye, Arnav."
With that, she left her heart in that room without looking back, with that stubborn man who had become 'patthar dil' in his 'patthar dil' world, while her whole being begged her to turn around and plead with him to accept her love. As the physical distance between them continued to grow, she felt the gap in her heart widening. She placed her hand on her chest to soothe the ache. When she had entered his room earlier, she had thought the worst he could do was reject her. She couldn't help but laugh internally at the bitter irony of the situation.
As soon as she found herself alone in the confines of her room, she sank down against the door and released everything she had been holding onto. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed as she sat there, her voice strained from suppressed sobs, her eyes dry with runaway tears.
After a while, she gathered herself and made her way to the sturdy oak desk that stood by the window. Her hands found her leather-bound diary. The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm, comforting light over the worn pages. Opening it to a fresh, blank page, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the smooth paper.
She was resolute in her determination not to plead with Arnav. Yet, in the quiet of her room, with no one to witness her vulnerability, she felt an inexplicable urge to beg—she wasn't sure to whom or for what. It was a desperate desire to bargain with fate, willing to offer anything to alleviate the searing pain that had taken residence in her heart.
With trembling fingers, she picked up the pen and let her hand move across the page, each stroke a silent prayer that her words would somehow find their way to him.
On the other side of Rajput Haveli, Arnav paced restlessly in his room, his mind consumed with thoughts of Khushi. The carriage that would whisk him away was due in a few short hours. The clock struck half past 4, marking the passage of time he could no longer ignore. Unable to bear the agony any longer, Arnav found himself outside Khushi's door, the pull towards her undeniable, like an invisible string tugging at his heart.
He knew he had to see her one last time, to assure himself that she was alright. The thought of leaving her in distress gnawed at him, compelling him to knock. As his hand hovered over the door, he discovered it was unlocked. With a hesitant push, he entered quietly.
Inside, Arnav found Khushi hunched over her desk, her flawless face marred with dried tear streaks. She had fallen asleep upon the leather-bound diary he had gifted her. In the dim light, he could make out her elegant handwriting. Curiously, he moved closer and found only two lines on that page that shifted his entire universe on its axis.
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( Please don't divide me into two parts, Arnav. I cannot live without you.)
@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @titaliya @deliciouspistachios @arshisrabbave @arshiradio @msbhagirathi
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alpydk · 23 days
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Red on You (Part 3) - "Little Piece of Flesh"
RuganxGale - Despite the interruptions, I got the chapter done! I'm just fucking loving this. (Going to warn: not really edited because of time. Will do that tomorrow but want it off my mind.)
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Gale had spent time cleaning the tower before he slowly drifted towards Blackstaff Academy. The cool evening breeze was a welcome distraction from the heated anger that seemed to cling to his chest. Glasses had been washed and put back in their respective places, a knowledge that only one would be needed on future nights rather than the two during the previous year. The bedsheets had been changed from the deep blue cotton that smelt of ale, the scent too much of a reminder of long nights of embrace and what-ifs.
The library of Blackstaff would be a welcome distraction from his thoughts, he confirmed to himself as he passed the empty shop faces. Waterdeep was quiet for once, unusually quiet, he noted as his footsteps rung through over the cobbles. The City of Splendours usually had some hustle and bustle even during the later hours, the taverns spilling out onto the streets, the odd couple laughing as they returned home from an opportunity at courtship, but tonight there was little of it. There was only an eery silence hanging over the cold stones of the Street of Silks.
Alone again, after a year of joy. What fools these mortals be… The words had come to him as naturally as they did in the past. A fool to be in love again and again. A fool to think he could be loved. The courtyard of the academy lay vacant as he approached, its walls high and imprisoning. Gale remembered the events of a year ago, as he’d watched Rugan be dragged away by the dark-haired Zhentarim. Why was it so much easier to fight for love a year ago than it was now?
The dancing lights shone above as he walked the empty corridors to the library, passing by a classroom that held too many powerful memories for him to want to stop. He’d find a copy of A Dove at Dawn, sequester himself away to an alcove and while away the hours until morning, possibly conjuring a cushion or two for comfort if the mood took him.
“Gale, a bit late to be perusing the literature, is it not?”
He smiled to himself, the soft voice of the half drow pleasant to his senses. “Lissa, my dear. There is no period of time, too early, nor too late when it comes to the matters of literature.”
Lissa stepped forward, the dancing lights reflecting on the white of her hair, her lilac eyes twinkling. “Spoken like a true wizard. So, I guess the real question I ask is, is it only the books you are here to see?”
“Aside from the wonders of fantasy and imagination, you mean? Maybe I could be persuaded to enjoy some kaeth with an old colleague.”
She smiled, softly linking her arm with his, her hand delicately clutching to his forearm. “Kaeth it is.”
---
“Stop being a pillock and keep your head down, will you?”
“Watch the hair!”
Rugan and Astarion hid behind a stack of crates, a small group of undead shambling past their location. They had run north under darkness along the streets, losing both Friol and Darnys in the chaos, their plan of going back to the tower ruined, as the horde had blocked the paths to the west.
Holding a palm across his mouth, Rugan held his breath as best he could, the sounds of his panting muffled from the creatures which hunted them. Sobering up had happened surprisingly fast with the flood of adrenaline to his system, but he wished he had a bottle at his side now to drown out the nerves. Dying in this way had never been part of his plan. Gnolls in caves, Guild or Zhent interference, hells, even by his own hand; those had been the expected methods. Dying to zombies in an alleyway with a vampire a few days before a proposal to a wizard was just insane in his mind.
As the world grew quiet around him, he peered over the wood behind him. “I think they’re gone.” His breath was heavy, a year of the simple life taking its toll on his physique. “Come on, if we can get back on to Warrior’s Way, maybe we can get close to the fort and slip through to the tower before dawn.”
Astarion dusted off his trousers, frustrated at the situation he’d suddenly found himself in. “And head back through those things? Are you mad?” He looked up and down the alley, trying to work out exactly where he was, the brown and red stone of each building giving him no real landmarks to navigate from.
“Clam it. Those things are out there, and I don’t know about you, mate, but I’d rather have a wizard with a fireball or two than follow after Friol and her lackey.”
 “And what if we’re caught? I may be undead, but at least I’m not undead.”
“Look, you coming or not?”
A not-too-distant scream could be heard, signalling to them it was time to move again. Rugan peered out, looking south down the darkened street. Shadows danced from the entrance of a nearby store, the clang of a lute ringing out before being met with the groans of death. Even if they moved quick enough, they’d run straight into the lifeless beings that now roamed most of the Dock Ward. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, realising his options were limited. “West… Maybe we can get down by the coastline.”
“And do what? Take a swim?”
“Astarion, you’re being a prick right now.”
“Well, excuse me for seeing flaws in your plans.”
The groans grew closer towards the alleyway, the smell of rot and decay spreading quickly through the streets. Rugan lowered his head, the knowledge of no easy way home becoming clearer to him. Sighing, he spoke, “North it is then…”
---
Andora placed the cool compress over the brow of the high priest. For some time, they had been trapped in the small scriptorium; the door barricaded with a bookshelf pushed diagonally across the exit. Moonlight shone through the one available window some feet off the ground, and she tried to imagine a path up to it should the door be broken down. Use the desk, sandals into the stone cracks, pray the window can be opened…pray…
A hacking cough erupted from her superior, one that had grown over the time they’d been trapped. He had no sign of injury upon his body and none of the undead outside the door had got close, yet still he had fallen ill.
“Let me get you some water, father.” She stood from the cold floor and found the jug upon the desk, her eyes glancing over at him as she poured into a small silver cup at its side.
“I fear water will not fix my ailment, my dear,” he sputtered, his hand grasping at the symbol of Ilmater that hung around his neck. “Come, pray with me.”
She approached cautiously. She could not help but notice the sweat that beaded on his skin, the pale complexion under the dim light of the room. An odd smell permeated her senses, a reminder of the gnome she had tried to save: rot and corruption. She knelt by the side of the priest, taking his cool, clammy hand in her own, closing her eyes, prepared for his holy devotion.
“Dearest Ilmater,” he whispered, a faint thud from the door interrupting him. “Your burdens are my own and for that I thank you. For with those burdens, I have found the strength to aid in those less worthy.” With his words, he glanced at Andora, who sat quietly, eyes still closed. “It is now that I beg of your help to save me from the horrors that have been beset upon me. I, who have been so faithful and pure of heart and-” Coughing interrupted his prayer, fluid from his lungs forcefully expelled onto the floor in front of him.
Andora was quick to pull her hand away, rising to her feet with open fear in her large, dark eyes. As she looked at him, she could see the veins in his neck bulging, a purple black trail risen over the pallor, pathways of the disease’s command throughout his body. She wanted to save him, wanted to help him as she had tried to the gnome, but she knew what was happening and she knew how it was going to end. Backing up towards the desk, she wordlessly went over the plan again. Use the desk, sandals into the stone cracks, pray the window can be opened…pray…
The high priest’s body jolted and twitched before her very eyes, a spattering of blood from his lips dripping onto the floor beneath him. She backed up further; the desk hitting behind her legs, but she could not turn and take her eyes from the sight. The hissing of his lungs as his last breaths whistled through cracked lips filled the air, merging with the dull thuds of the door. Her own breath stuck in her throat; her legs frozen to the ground as his own snapped around him, trying to find a footing on the floor as if he were a newborn to the world. His head jerked up, eyes bloodshot and pinned on her presence. Again, she was the prey to the wolf that hunted her, but it was as she realised this that she found the strength to move, turning on her heels and climbing onto the desk. …pray the window can be opened…pray…
---
“And then I told him: Then let us hope I never wake.”
Lissa had sat for some time in the small alcove of the library, listening to Gale unload about the relationship issues he had been struggling with. Kaeth had been passed between them, topics of poetry and the arcane discussed at length, and often they had found each other’s gaze. Neither could deny the chemistry between them, the static that seemed to sit in the air as their fingers met.
She could see the glow of the Weave in her eyes, reflecting her own, hear the magic he commanded simply in the way he spoke. “Sounds like quite the exciting relationship,” she commented, sipping from her mug.
Gale chuckled. “An understatement, my dear. Rugan and I are as if one were to add water to an oil fire. We act and react upon one another. What some may see as exciting, others may see as reckless and dangerous.”
“And which do you see it as?”
He sighed, the light conversation now having become deeper than he had wished. He had only known Lissa for a short while; her joining the academy as a professor, only a recent addition in the last few months. Getting to know her had been easy, though. She was open, positive, and quite the beauty, even he had to admit. Maybe in another life or time, he would have fallen for her. He considered his answer for a while, watching as she drew small circles into the table with her fingertip. “If you had asked me a week ago, I would have responded that it was exciting.”
“But I ask you now.”
“Hm. That you do.”
The flickering of unexpected torchlight from the window was a thankful distraction from the weight of his thoughts, the orange glow quickly growing in the courtyard as more torches lit up the area. With the flames came the sound of voices, commanding bellows from a small group of paladins. “Into the tower! Quickly!” Silver armour and swords reflected the light, glowing beacons of justice marching upon the academy without remorse.
Gale and Lissa rose to their feet, confusion shared between them at the potential attack that was under way. Without hesitation, kaeth abandoned, they ran from the library, neither knowing what they would come to find with the might of Tyr now on their doorstep.
---  
Darnys panted for breath under the lamplight of the store. Under different circumstances, she considered robbing Sorynth’s, but tonight would not be that night as the sounds of spreading fear echoed to the south. “We could have used them, Friol.”
“They’ve had their use. They were a distraction to help us escape.” Friol rubbed at her knee, the dull ache now a pounding reminder of how she’d wished to kill Rugan herself. She caught her breath, leaning on the cool glass of the shopwindow. “Fucking wizards.”
“What do they have to do with anything?”
“It was their magic item that caused this. If Tib’s hadn’t grabbed it, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
All Darnys wanted to do was run, to keep running and get rid of the memories of what had happened at the base out of her head. She watched as those she had once called friends had clung to their stomachs, as their flesh had torn, and they had turned on one another. Mads had tried to get out the protection ward as they rushed him, a single bite to his eye enough to have him on the floor spasming and screaming before he soon clawed his way up the staircase towards her. She was a coward, though, not like him. She had run, and she had kept running, just like her so-called leader. “So, what are you suggesting we do?” Following orders was the one thing keeping her sane right now as her hand clutched to the hilt of her sword at her waist. Can’t think if you’re following orders.
“Same thing you were tasked with doing a day ago. Find me Tibs and find that artefact.”
---
The undead had stumbled from the temple to the Halls of Justice, confusion breaking out as paladins and clerics turned on one another. Though their spells could break through the walking corpses, what was one spell when a single bite was enough to spread the corruption so quickly? Swords met armour, war cries met screams and soon they were changed, mutated soldiers of an army that could only ever increase.
A small party had banded together and escaped the chaos of the temples, their desperation taking them to the academy to seek further aid. Tibs watched, the flesh of his chest now nothing but bone under the amulet, a dark ooze running from an eye socket that held nothing. He no longer thought, no longer felt. He was simply commanded by the magic around his neck, magic that had only one calling. Death.
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