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vad-hander · 2 days ago

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DIVORCE ME

pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

genre: married couple au!, angst, smut, a little bit of fluff, long distance

warnings: mentions of divorce, unprotected v sex, dom Jaehyun, biting, punishment, fingering, praise, protected anal penetration, spit as lube, reverse cowgirl, slight overstimulation etc

words: 16k

"What?" your voice sounded more like a bark over the phone. But it was a good thing, that's exactly how you intended it to be.

"So you did get the envelope?" Jaehyun, though, on the other side of the line was chill, if you were to judge by the tone of his voice. "My lawyer left a sticker so you'd find the right place to sign it this time." Your fingers pinched your nose, thinking how you scribbled over printed letters last time you had the same envelope sent in.

"I don't have a single pen in my house." You sighed and dropped the envelope right next to a pen and a pencil that were always present at the top of the cabinet at the entrance of your apartment.

"I'll send over the courier with a pen, then." you opened your mouth, Jaehyun not letting you chime in. "I'll even make it two in case one's not working."

Your voice was steady, you looked once again at the papers that had your name at the top. "I said no. I won't sign these papers."

"Why?!" Jaehyun cried into the phone. "We've been living separately for a year. Why are you being stubborn? We’re basically strangers at this point.” Your palm rubbed into your chest, trying to calm down the stinging in your heart at that wording.

Your fingers ran over the words written in larger font at the top - Divorce Agreement.

“I don’t want to.”

“You know I can get a divorce from you without your signature? I’m just not going that route yet.”

“If you think you’re threatening me and I’m scared - I’m not.”

“I know for a fact you’re not threatened. I was married to you for five years.”

“Good.” You sighed, ready to hang up the phone. You didn’t want to continue hearing his voice. “So… will you sign those?”

“I gave you my answer already.”

“Please.” A tinge of desperation in his voice cut you deeper than he clearly intended to.

“No, I said no.” That desperate need to cut all ties - it was making you nervous, you had words stuck up in your throat asking what was the urgency.

“I can’t wait another two years for whatever you’re doing there to end. Are you coming back for any of the holidays?” His voice changed in slight annoyance and you snapped out of heartache.

“None of your business.”

“I am your husband, until you sign the agreement, it is all of my business. In fact, it should only be my business, no one else’s.” Whatever he meant with that, really. You weren’t seeing other people, but he won’t know that.

“Bye.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Every conversation with the man left you tired. And drained. And it used to never be like this before. He used to be your love. Or he is your love?

“Was that your husband?” Kate, who clearly eavesdropped the whole conversation, peeked from behind the living room wall.

“Is the stress too evident on my face?” You turned on the bright smile and crossed the room to elegantly sit on the couch.

“I heard the words papers and sign and remembered your story.” She gave a little sad nod and patted your forearm in comfort. Sipping on her wine right after. “I’m so sad your expatriation has to end early, but I hope your sister appreciates your wish to help her with her babies.”

“I know.” you whined to fit in with the mood of your only friend over here. “It’s been a year, though, and I haven’t had a single break since coming, so maybe I’m a little excited to go back home and take a week off.” You leaned back a little, imagining waking up later than usual, having fancy breakfasts and sharing them with the man that desperately wanted a divorce from you. Good thing Kate was loud and unstoppable with her blabbering, snapping you out of that horrible thought.

“I thought the pleasure of your life was bossing around dumb Americans like me, and having those horrendous cold coffees, instead of all meals.” Your heart hurt on behalf of Iced Americano.

“You aren’t stupid-.” You remembered to protest, though. “I said dumb!”

“Okay, y’all aren’t dumb, just maybe lack a bit of work ethic that make our Korean office thrive. And my coffees are not horrendous!” Your eyebrows furrowed in feign annoyance.

“We tried to get the hype, the line to the bathroom afterwards was so long, we had to run to other floors, girl.” You chuckled into your palm, shocked at the information previously hidden from you.

“Oh my god! And everyone I asked said the drink was fun! The hypocrisy!” Your palm hid your opened mouth.

“Yeah, the lining up to the bathroom was definitely a fun experience.”

“Good thing my flight’s tomorrow, I won’t have to face those people knowing they pooped their pants because of me.” Kate laughed loudly.

“Gi-i-i-i-rl, but I’m going to miss you. If you ever back in the States, just hit me up? Any time and any day.” She sing-songed, her eyes closing a bit, lifting her nose up.

“Yes.” You gave her a straight nod. You weren’t sure you’d ever get back here, you were determined to never move out of the only place you ever were supposed to live in.

“Won’t you invite me too?” She giggled.

“Quit lying, you won’t ever leave Seattle.”

“Wait, that’s so true.” Her palm covered her mouth, a striking sign your friend was tipsy.

“Go, go, go! There’s your auntie!” You heard the voice of your older sister even before you could register her face in the crowd of the Incheon Airport. Two sets of arms sneaked over the luggage trolley and wrapped your legs.

“Oh my god, Nara, Uri, hi! My babies.” Your arms wrapped over the kids that desperately fought to climb up your body, though in the year you were absent they’ve grown too much for you to be able to carry them so freely.

“Hi. Welcome back home.” Your sister extended an arm, giving you a welcoming pat on the back.

“Hyunjoo! Hi.” You exclaimed, excited, sighing tiredly afterwards. “Thanks for making it all the way here to pick me up.”

“These two couldn’t hold back their excitement when I said you were coming back.”

“Oh, really? Really? I brought so much fun stuff for my little angels!” You put on the baby voice, tickling your nephews.

“I want to see!”

“Let’s get in the car and see what auntie got for you at home, okay?” Your sister offered, and the four of you moved to the exit. “You’ve left with two suitcases, right?”

“Yeah, had to bring gifts for you all.” You chuckled, running your eyes over the trolley with four of those. “Now I don’t know where I’m putting all of these in my apartment.” You chuckled to yourself.

“The bigger question is if all of those will fit into my car.” Hyunjoo gave you a look. “Shit-.” You cursed, looking down at the kids. “I mean, damn. That I’ve not thought about.”

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Shit, that you also have not thought about.

“He has work stuff, couldn’t make it.” You brushed Hyunjoo off with an eye roll.

“On a Sunday?” She gave you an accusatory brow. “The lovey-dovey guy that made you breakfasts every Saturday and never let you drive alone for longer than 30 minutes?” You had to busy yourself with the trolley and making a turn, so you won’t burn alive under her stare. “Is he still sour that you left despite his disagreement with that decision? Are you two not together… by any chance?” Wow, that escalated quickly.

“No, no! Of course not. I told him not to come, since he was telling me all the time how busy he was with work. I’m going to see him… at home.” Those words were also hardly believable, given the lovey-dovey image your sister had in her head. He should’ve been here, pressing his mouth into your cheeks, to not go absolutely feral over his lips on yours in the middle of the airport, arms squeezing you in his hold.

You had to shake the thought away. In realms of your current situation, the only realistic reason for him to be at the airport would be to make you sign those papers and finally set him free.

Realisation of what home implied also downed at you at the exact same moment. You had a home that was also his, it also happened to be the only home you had. Same went for him. What a coincidence, right? For two people, that lived in the city together for 8 years.

Jaehyun was obviously still living in that same apartment, giving he expected you to be back in the country approximately in two years and three months. “Do you want to go see our parents first?” You tried to climb out of that corner unhurt.

“Yeah, three hour drive one way at 4pm Sunday? No thank you.” Hyunjoo snorted, helping her kids get into their seats.

“Right, I didn’t realise it was this late through the day.”

“And we all have work and day care tomorrow. When are you back in the office?”

“I took day off’s this whole week, hoping I’ll put all the stuff away, get back to my life here, and-.” Sort out this divorce agreement. “Yeah.”

“I want to play with aunty!” Nara whined as her mom did her seatbelt, while you were putting your suitcases away in the trunk.

“I’ll come over on Tuesday, okay? Pick you up from daycare and we can get bread on the way back home, and then unpack all the gifts I had purchased for you and your parents. Deal?” You asked the kids, but looked at your sister for approval, she gave you one with a nod and the burst of laughter from kids only sealed the deal.

“You know, Jaehyun’s been weird, since you left. I think he’s still hurt.” You dreaded the fact silence led to this conversation. It was pure quietness, twins knocked out in the back seat, you were also half way through slumber after that endless flight. You had a feeling something was on Hyunjoo’s mind, with the way she tapped her finger over the steering wheel, you just had to predict it was your husband in question.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” You waved her off, again.

“He’s not seen us once. Mom invited him over for every holiday and every weekend get together. He would always say he’s sick, he’s busy, over at his parents house. Anything.” You were curious what face he made as he came up with those, especially if those weren’t over messages. He probably had his whole face red, lip tugging between thumb and pointing fingers as he was carefully picking out words to not be taken wrongly.

“And you didn’t stop the invitations?” They should’ve known better than hitting the man that tried to hide with invitations.

“Of course not! He’s family?” Hyunjoo looked at you scandalised.

“He might’ve not been comfortable coming alone.”

“He quite literally spent two weeks at our house, when you were in college and had to leave for that conference in Singapore. He stayed with all of us, like your substitute, just because he had nothing to do during summer break. And now he’s uncomfortable?” You drove down to the traffic light that turned red, giving your sister a perfect opportunity to turn her eyes to you. “Tell me what’s been going on?”

“Nothing.” Like, you weren’t even lying. Nothing’s been happening - he’s been bombarding you with those divorce agreements, you’ve been disposing them into trash - the end. Other than that, it’s been full on radio silence. You didn’t even know what he looked like by now, what if something changed in his appearance and he won’t feel like home anymore? What if anything changed in his heart, or more like what if his heart changed to an extent where it can’t be reversed? What if your only outcome is in fact divorcing immediately? You shrivelled, pressing yourself more into the seat.

“I’m going to tell mom, and she’ll flip out and get the truth out of you both. I’ve been covering for you! Acting like I know he’s busy and stuff. And I have to know the truth, in case I need to continue.” That sounded like both valuable threat and reason. Still, you didn’t want to risk your lives and announce that he’s been wanting a divorce to your sister, while she’s driving through a highway.

“Okay. Okay, he might be a tiny bit upset.”

“Tiny? It’s been a year, more of like a grudge at this point.”

“It’s because we’ve been apart, and now I’m back home and we’ll be good.” At least, that’s the plan.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I quit the expatriation thing early so I could go back to him.” You whispered the truth under your breath. Everyone got different versions of your reason to be back home, but the real one was your wish to return. You needed to go back to the man that held your heart and tried to throw it back at you. You needed to see with your own two eyes, if he really didn’t love you anymore. “I made a mistake, I really missed my family, I missed Jaehyun."

“Really? I thought you said it was about the project cancellation.” “No. The project cancelled because I said I’m leaving, whether they’re letting me go back as the part of the company or not.” You sighed, the truth was not what you wanted people to think, but you were ready to throw this truth at your sister. She was trustworthy to die with that info.

“I expect you two to be all lovey-dovey next Saturday at our parents anniversary thing, or I’m busting you to mom-.” You almost gasped and cursed, this was a good heads up about the event this weekend and you were glad your sister, probably knowingly, gave you that. You had time to come up with a cover up.

“I’m not sure about that. Jaehyun’s been telling me about seeing his parents-.” The eye roll from Hyunjoo made you stop. “No, for real. He’s actually planned this for weeks. I swear!” You would never be able to bring the man that tried to divorce you to your parents house in 5 days. What sort of torture would that be. For either of you. “I’ll come see mom and dad during the week. Alone. Since he works. And on the weekend we were supposed to go to his parents, but since it’s our parents anniversary, he’s going there alone.” Wait, this sounded like a perfect cover up plan. You almost clapped your hands excited. This sounded like THE plan.

“All I hear is excuses. If you’re lying to me right now - you’re dead.” She made sure the thumb slid right against her throat with a threat. You looked away, scared, only to realise you’ve arrived at the destination.

“Thanks for dropping me off!” You chirped, unbuckling.

“Do you need help with your belongings?”

“No, I’ll do it myself. See you Tuesday, right?”

“Right.” Your sister gave you a nod, pressing the button for the trunk to open. As you pulled out all your suitcases onto the ground, you watched the door close back down, walking up to wave her away.

“Tell your husband I said hi!” You waved, as she drove by you.

You punched in the code you last set, praying he hasn’t changed it.

Jaehyun’s birth date, your birth date, the month you’ve become official. 6 digits in and as you heard the approving melody, your heart sunk. Hopefully he still kept it because it meant things for him, not because he was used to typing in those specific six digits.

As you processed your next step, you came with a conclusion there was quite a chance you can be met with a very taken aback with your presence Jaehyun as soon as you opened the door. If the man is at home, he surely heard the little melody too and was walking up to the door right now, confused and probably totally alerted that someone punched in the correct code.

Either of you was about to get startled at this spontaneous reunion. And you weren’t about to give him the opportunity to catch you unprepared. Opening the door wide, before you could notice anyone in there, it struck you - it looked and smelled just like you left it.

Your eyes trailed around the opened to your eyes space - it was all the same, almost like he didn’t live here, though you sure he was - given the stack of papers on the cabinet, the sneakers that he seemed to purchase while you were away and the raincoat over a kitchen chair, drying up from yesterday’s downpour.

And no Jaehyun in sight.

It was a good thing, you had a little time window to drop off your stuff, pack your bags, take your car keys and run away to your parents unnoticed. You had not prepared yourself to see him, you have not even imagined what you would say or how you’d say it. You had a feeling you could get chocked up at the mere sight of him. Before all this, Jaehyun was the love of your life, your husband.

Despite leaving him like he didn’t matter, you’ve missed him every day.

You loved him every awakened day of your life, paying a price of literal money for your dumbness to go back to him. You were still expecting the check for the exact payment, but you knew the fine you had to pay for wrapping everything up early was about to end up with big numbers. And you really didn’t care for that, as long as you could make sure the man will let you back inside his heart.

You quickly pushed all your luggage inside, closing the door and kicking your shoes off. Your eyes trailed to the side of the cabinet where you kept your slippers on autopilot, only to be actually met with the pair standing right where they belonged to. Lined up with Jaehyun’s. Like you’ve never left.

You put them on and trailed to your bedroom, you needed to take a shower first, unpacking right after.

Jaehyun didn’t bother with putting your stuff away, you expected him to maybe throw it away in a rage tantrum. You were expecting anything. And you would’ve honestly understood. You deserved it. You’ve found your shampoo in the bathroom, the clothes you left behind in your shared walk-in wardrobe. You picked up all needed belongings and quickly freshened up in hot water.

Dragging the first suitcase on the floor, you took all your clothes out to safe space for the gifts you had to take back your family in that same suitcase. You felt so emerged in the acton, sorting things out, leaving things you brought for Jaehyun on the side, taking things for the washer to one pile of clothes. Fresh ones you could take to your parents to the other one.

“Who the hell are you!” You jumped in place, turning around and letting the man see you properly, not just the corner of your back peaking out of the closet. You didn’t even see or hear him come in, brain a mush with the jet lag. “Y/n?” Jaehyun dropped the umbrella, that you guessed he grabbed for defence as he heard your movement, and stilled. “What are you doing here?” He gasped, losing his voice by the end of the sentence completely.

The emotions on his face is what really hurt you. Not a single one of his muscles moved in the direction of smile, or relief, or any other emotion that you could describe with any sort of positivity. He frowned, then gasped again, closing his eyes as if checking if he hallucinated you here. Then he set his mouth in such a downward way your eyes almost gave up on you.

“Hi?” You offered a smile, like the situation wasn’t this awkward unexpected reunion of two people despising each other and being half way divorced. You weren’t despising him, but if he was despising you, you liked to make him feel it was the same way on your side.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes immediately trailed down his arm - his ringer finger was still covered with a wedding band, your finger immediately tugging on the identical one over your finger.

“I’m just packing my stuff, I’m going to leave quickly, I’m sorry.” You dropped the smile or any other ridiculous imagination you had in your head. You felt like a thief under his gaze.

“No-. How did you get here? And you’re leaving back to the US already? Have you always been here?” Jaehyun frowned even deeper.

“No, they sent me back, turns out I’m also very much needed here, so they had to put Korea’s office priorities before Seattle.” You lied the only line you’ve practiced.

“When did you come back? How did you get all this stuff back here on your own?” Jaehyun’s eyes traveled over your suitcases and bags.

“Does it matter?” You snorted. The only thing he cared for is how you got those suitcases in?

“Well, yeah?” He raised a brow.

“Hyunjoo picked me up at The airport and dropped me off here.” You shrugged, folding a shirt into a pile of dirty clothes.

“You should’ve t-.” He cut himself off. “Are you planning… to stay… here?”

“In the country? Seems like a yes. In this apartment? No, I’m packing.” He didn’t have to shush you away, you’ll gladly leave.

“Where will you go?”

“Why exactly does this matter to you, once again?” You gave him what you hoped was a very disgusted look.

“We’re married.” “Yet, right? Now that I’m here you’re surely getting me to sign those stupid papers of yours.” You snorted.

“I-, ugh. I didn’t know you’ll be coming back so soon.”

“That was intended.” You shrugged

“Where are you going? You don’t have another home in Seoul.” Jaehyun pressed and walked in closer.

You folded away from him, not willing to get even a lick of his scent and his presence this close to you.

“I’m going to stay at my parents. Then work it out, doesn’t matter. You can have this place to yourself.”

“Okay-.” He stilled, eyes unfocused.

“Okay?” You looked up scandalised, your Jaehyun would never agree to something like that. You expected him to fight with you over this. You’d gladly fight with him over the division of property, in hopes to get closer somewhere in between. In hopes he’d say I don’t want to divide anything. I want you all to myself. And you’d allow yourself to fold into him and admit that you’ve never wanted this in the first place. “I was expecting you to at least act like you didn’t want that.” You just bit.

“No, I’m just confused to see you here.”

“Why? Got someone already? Are they coming here? That’s why you’re all invested?” You let out the worst leave your mouth. You were scared, so worried, that Jaehyun let someone into his hurt heart to stop the aching you caused.

“What the hell, no. You were supposed to be in another country for two more years. Of course I’m confused. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, on the floor wearing my stuff like you never left.” You looked down at the shirt - it was clearly his, you haven’t looked down on the print once since you picked it up. You should’ve guessed your things weren’t just laying around on top of the shelves here anymore. When you’ve been absent. For months.

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to give you a heads up, so you’d run to the airport with your divorce agreement.” You shrugged.

“Shut up.” Jaehyun let out. And it wasn’t the mean shut your stupid mouth type of intonation. He grabbed onto his head, like it was about to explode, grunting a little.

“Huh?”

“You’re the reason I even had to send it to you.” His eyes opened and directed at you.

“I know, Jaehyun, I’m well aware of that.”

“What are you even doing here?”

“As I said, they sent me home early, turns out three years was a stretch. I know this is sudden, and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, or ruin this bachelor life of yours. I’m repacking and going to my parents.” You should’ve not stuck with your pride. You should’ve fallen to his feet and asked for forgiveness. You hated this encounter. And you hated that you made it worse.

“Bachelor life, what the hell-.” Jaehyun mumbled under his breath, grabbing onto his head once again.

“We haven’t had a single conversation in a year, I could’ve never imagined this to happen-, in this way-. This seems to be even worse than I imagined. I should’ve went straight to my parents, just couldn’t tell Hyunjoo about this… us, I mean not us-.” You panicked, moving your arms around and avoiding Jaehyun’s gaze.

“While you’re at your parents’, you might as well tell them we’re getting a divorce, because I’m out of reasons to dodge their invitations.” Jaehyun interrupted your conscious mumbling with a little bite to his tone.

“Don’t worry, since I’m here they won’t even be bothered by your absence.” You weren’t about to let that slip.

“Okay, good, because I just got a text from your mom, hoping to see me on Sunday. I guess you’ll work that out yourself.” He gave you a subtle smirk.

“I will, don’t you worry.” Jaehyun walked out the door of your previously shared bedroom, slamming it and you were sure he was cursing under his breath, because he always did that when he was stressed. At least he used to.

You knew he’d be clearly surprised if he saw you, you didn’t expect him be angry and pent up and so unreachable, even though you were the one who left him. You made him consider filing for a divorce.

You still hoped for a little smile or something along the way of that.

“So we’re just jumping straight to violence?” You trailed the route to the kitchen, not knowing if you should whisper or talk normally with him.

“And you broke up with me, and also expected me to have fanfares and cake prepared for your return? I want a divorce, I thought you had enough time to settle with that idea.” Jaehyun drank a glass of water in one go, filling up another one. “You did this.”

“I didn’t break up with you-.” “Seriously? You left.” The way his voice went an octave higher cut you.

“I told you, I-.”

“You’re asking for my opinion, or just telling me something that’s already settled?” Your body was straddling his thighs. Jaehyun scrolled through the phone after work, waiting for you to come back home so you’d have your dinner together. You ran into the apartment, bubbling with excitement. Jaehyun didn’t even have the time to put his phone away, with the speed you got on top of him and kissed his mouth. The man under immediately adjusted to your mood, fingers pressing into your thighs with pressure. Until you told him the reason for your excitement, or more specifically the timings of it.

Because he was excited for the opportunity, before you let him know the contract was for three years. That’s when his fingers loosened the grip and his mouth turned downwards.

“No, it’s not settled. Obviously, I really want to go, but I would miss you terribly.” You leaned to peck his mouth, not getting any reciprocation out of Jaehyun.

“So you’re not going?” He lit up.

“I don’t know. If my visa application-.” You drew circles on his chest. If your visa is approved, you will have to go, it seems. “You applied for a visa? Without telling me?” Jaehyun caught your fingers in his hold, voice more of a growl at the new piece of information.

“I didn’t, my company literally have all the papers to do that for me. They’ve been considering me and someone else. As soon as I heard about visas - I came to tell you.” You lied there, a little. Another person was considered before, you were the only one they applied a visa for. You also had to give them your passport, but that was also the part you hoped Jaehyun won’t focus on.

“So it is settled.” He sighed and let go of your fingers. “I thought you’d be excited for me?” You pouted leaning in to Jaehyun, who’s been looking away from you this whole conversation. “Baby, we could literally be talking on the phone all the time, in case they want me to go. All the holidays we’ll be together.” you kissed his cheek, expecting for him to soften.

“I was excited, before you told me it’s for three years? And it’s settled, and you have not even considered asking me to come with you.”

“I have, but I don’t want you to lose everything here, this is only temporary. I love you so-so much.” You pressed your mouth into the corner of his.

“Everything wouldn’t even matter if I lost you.” Jaehyun finally looked you dead in the eyes.

“Baby.” You murmured, touched, arms hugging his shoulders, face tucking into his neck. “You wouldn’t.”

- “Can we have this conversation properly? I don’t want you to go.” Jaehyun walked out the bedroom, suit perfectly wrapping his body. “I’ve been thinking about it for the whole night, and I can’t allow you going away. For three years. If it’s 6 months, okay. I’d somehow go with that. Three years - absolutely not. Honey, please hear me out.” Jaehyun’s fingers pulled onto your waist to turn you around and face him.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“No. Not like this, not when it seems to be not even a second thought in your head.”

“It’s not like that, I have thought of you going, and it’s always you struggling because you left the job you loved. And what would you do afterwards? When we have to return? You will be jobless again? Your parents also won’t forgive me for taking their only son away from them.” You ran your thumb over his lower lip.

“Okay, then both you and I - we’re staying here.” Jaehyun kissed the finger tip that’s been teasing him.

“Baby, no, it’s not settled like that either.”

“Why are you lying to me about this?” Jaehyun whispered, getting closer to your face. “If you’re lying, doesn’t it mean you don’t want to go? You want to stay with me and can’t? You can quit. I’ll cover all our expenses while you’re looking for a new job.” His eyes focused on you, trying to see through the shield you’ve put on.

“No, I want to go, but I also don’t want to leave you.” You also moved your face in his direction, expecting a kiss.

“Then don’t. If it’s not settled, then it’s okay to decline.” Jaehyun pecked your mouth.

“You’re right.” You nodded, hearing a relieved sigh come out of Jaehyun’s mouth, kissing your cheek next. “It’s not too late.”

“I love you, have a good day.” Jaehyun gave your side a squeeze, leaving to put his shoes on.

“You too.”

You had no better way to tell Jaehyun what happened at work than literally start packing. You got your visa approved, you were set to leave in two weeks. There was no way for you to jump in and tell them to pick someone else instead. Your boss patted your shoulder proudly and told you how he had always believed in you. And coming up somewhere in between with I can’t do this felt just wrong.

You couldn’t do this.

Despite the absolute itchiness of your entire body this whole day, you were trying to pick out clothes for packing. Agonising over the racks of your clothes for the past forty minutes.

“Bab-. No. No-no-no, what are you doing?” Jaehyun’s fingers pulled the skirt out of your hold. “Where are you going?” He dropped on his knees next to you and held onto your face.

“I came to tell them that I can’t leave for three years, I thought about talking to cut down to six months like you told me you could endure. But I was told I got the paper work approved, tickets purchased and everyone are expecting me in Seattle in two weeks.” You lowered your face into his chest, allowing for Jaehyun to hug you if he had strength to do that.

“Two weeks?” Jaehyun couldn’t even say it without chocking.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, I didn’t, because I couldn’t decide what mattered more-.” You eased into his hold more.

“What mattered more? You couldn’t decide whether I, or a stupid job mattered more?” Jaehyun shook you a little so you’d open your eyes.

“No, no. Of course you matter more. Baby, you obviously all that matters to me.” That’s not even what you meant with mattered more.

“Fuck.” Jaehyun chuckled lowly, clearly affected by the stupid slip of your tongue. “Can’t believe my wife’s a workaholic. Never used to be one.” He stood up, letting go of you and letting the skirt fall into the suitcase.

“I am not. It’s just… Seattle? Have you ever been to Seattle?” You looked up at him.

“I clearly haven’t.” Jaehyun looked away from you, taking the jacket off his shoulders.

“Me neither, so I didn’t know how to say no to that.” Somehow, you had a strong believe that if it’s something you really wanted Jaehyun would give in and feel better about it because he loves you. You were clearly wrong.

“Can’t believe these words are coming out of your mouth.” You held onto Jaehyun’s ankle so he wouldn’t walk away. Pathetic.

“I know.” You stood up, taking Jaehyun’s face into your hands. “We will have to learn how to be long distance.”

“I don’t want to learn any of that.” He grumbled, like a hurt baby. Maybe, because he was one. And it was fair for him to be one, you knew that for sure.

“Baby, I know, I don’t want to too. But life sometimes forces us to do things we don’t want to. Like this here.”

“Like being my wife?”

“Honey, you’re blowing this out of proportion!” You exclaimed.

“Really? I just wouldn’t want to be married to a woman that can’t even voice out her priorities to me. That decided on her own she’s moving to another country for three years, when she has a family to discuss these things with. If you don’t care for me - good, I don’t want to care for you either. Maybe you’ve already planned to get a divorce?” Jaehyun pushed away your hold, looking away, running his fingers with force through his hair, pulling at the little hair on the nape. This… weren't the words you expected out of him. “You’re being dramatic.” You could only gasp out absolutely taken aback at that suggestion. “And jumping to ridiculous conclusions.” The words left his mouth so easily and so firmly. “Suggesting I want a divorce is blowing this out of proportion, no?”

“You’re being insensitive. I love you and I am against you leaving, but it seems like it doesn’t mean a thing to you. You’re still going, like we’re strangers. You didn’t want to talk with me about this. How do you want me to not jump to conclusions? You lay it all out for me. Next step is clearly a divorce.”

“Good, let’s get a divorce then.” You let out with a bite.

“Good.” Jaehyun nodded and walked into the bathroom.

“Seeing this-, honestly, just the idea of you seriously going away - it’s making me dizzy.” Jaehyun spoke to you, finally, as you struggled to close the zipper on your suitcase. Jaehyun given you a cold shoulder for the entirety of two weeks. No talking, beyond questions his life depended on, no physical contact despite sleeping in one bed. He would only tell you in the mornings, how he wished you’d pick him over a job, and he would always run out of the door before you could tell him you would never pick anything over him. He’s number one in your heart despite the decision.

And you could’ve been talking, kissing, and touching, and having sex, for that matter, with your number one for the whole two weeks. To fulfil at least the tiniest bit of your longing, but now you were less than a day away from your flight and itching horribly for his mouth all over your body.

“Honey, it-.”

“I meant it, if you’re seriously flying away - we’re getting a divorce.” He looked you dead in the eye. That was a stare of someone who decided to make their words come true.

“I am flying away, Jaehyun.” You sighed.

“So you want a divorce?”

“No. I want to live through this opportunity and get your support.”

“I don’t want to do that. Three years is a whole fucking lot.” He bursted, expectedly. You just wished he would’ve done that much earlier, you needed to have that fight two weeks ago, not now. If you fought about it earlier - you would’ve already settled with the idea and spent your last hours together in each other’s presence, closer than you could ever get.

“I know, okay, I know. That’s a lot and it’s unfair, but it happened so quickly for me too. I had no information whether or not it’s happening for some time, and as I told you, the next day they say my visa’s approved and I’m expected in Seattle in two weeks.” You closed the distance between you, walking to the couch Jaehyun sat on. “I wish this went a different route.” “Why did you not tell me, when it was just in the talks? That’s something I’m genuinely not understanding. We always talked about the tiniest things? You text me about everything! But not Seattle? Is this some sort of punishment? Did I do something wrong?” You watched him gradually curl each finger into a fist, obvious display of silent rage.

“I didn’t want you to worry, if nothing was gonna happen. You didn’t do a thing, I never punished you. I just knew it’ll be bad, if they want me to go. I wanted to keep it low because I love you! I didn’t know they’ll end up processing everything this quickly.” You wanted to go, but also didn’t. Talking about it with Jaehyun would’ve made that possibility real, and you were hoping it’ll just pass by you, while also praying for them to pick you. You also knew if you told that to him earlier - he would’ve supported you all the way through. He totally would’ve been 180 to him now, because he was always supportive of you. He was clearly raging because he was kept in the dark. He was almost doing exactly what you wanted him to do. Making it so much easier for you to leave.

It’s unexplainable, really. Both your wish to go and not to.You were expecting worse, while hoping for them to pick you. It’s like you were split in two. One wanted Jaehyun to be the centre of your life, the other wanted to try things out of his reach also.

“And now your flight is tomorrow and you think just leaving this as it is is going to do any good to this whole relationship?” You kneeled in front of him, taking in his pained expression.

“You were the one who didn’t want to talk.”

“Yes, because hearing that you’re not sure what matters more - me or the job was not on my bingo list for this year.”

“What do you want me to do?” You tried to be calm, talk to him like he was a baby.

“You know exactly what I want you to do - no doubt.”

“I literally can’t say no right now, we have to go through this.”

“You literally can. Say your husband is not allowing for you to leave the country. I’m okay to be the tyrant in the eyes of your co-workers if that means you’re staying.” Jaehyun moved his knee from under your hold.

“Baby.” You reached for his fingertips, Jaehyun jerked back at the mere touch of you. “I don’t want to fight. I want you to make love to me for the whole night, so it’ll be enough at least for the littlest bit I’m away from you. Can’t you do just that? Can we not fight? I want to be talking to you, seeing you through my phone and waiting for the day we see each other again.” You patted his lower stomach, not knowing where to put your hands. Jaehyun forced you away from him.

“You’re clearly not hearing me, I see.” Jaehyun slammed his laptop, walking out the living room.

You stood at the entrance of your apartment, shifting weight from one foot to the other, not sure if you’ll ever forgive yourself for walking out in full silence.

“Won’t you kiss me goodbye? I feel like we’ll both regret it a lot. You haven’t touched me in two weeks and I can’t believe I’m leaving like this.” You called out to Jaehyun’s back. Despite the silent treatment, he spent the whole morning within your eyesight. The whole time you were packing and running around, Jaehyun kept himself somewhere close. It almost felt like he was walking you out and you were comforted by that.

“I won’t.” He grumbled.

“I will miss you a lot. Despite what you’re thinking, I love you.” You trailed behind him, squeezing his wrist in your hold.

“Yeah, you’ve clearly showed that.” Your husband tried to shake your hold off of him.

“Instead of being a little bitch about it, you could’ve been looking up tickets to see me in June.” You whispered into his back.

“I don’t have the money for that, I’m not the one with a job in the States.”

“You’re still being a little bitch about it and are also lying.” He did have the money, his salary was still above yours even with this US increase you were given.

“You’ll miss your flight, and we can’t allow that to happen. Go.” Jaehyun spared you a glance and walked off to the couch, busying himself with the iPad he didn’t even usually use.

You had to swallow the lump in your throat, be the bigger person, because you were the one at fault. You tip-toed around your luggage, getting closer to the couch he occupied, crashing his shoulders under your weight, as you leaned in and pressed your head against his. “I love you.” Your mouth pressed into his set jaw. “I don’t want a divorce, I want to come back home to you. I will miss waking up every day and seeing your pretty eyes and feeling your fingers on my thigh. Come on, baby. Let me kiss you, if you’re divorcing me, am I not allowed to have my last kiss?” Jaehyun touched your arm that choked his neck, and you hoped he did that so he’d be able to turn around. You let him go and watched him turn around to you.

“We’re not having our last kiss, no. Please, go.” He forced you to stand up.

“Jaehyun, you can’t be serious right now. We’ve been together for 10 years-.” “And those 10 years seem to be nothing to you, right? Since you were able to decide on leaving me with no second thoughts?”

Your mouth opened and closed, like you were a fish. Just air, no words to defend yourself or your actions. Jaehyun walked up to the door, rolled both your suitcases out and looked at you, clearly expecting for you to roll out the apartment in the same way.

“Safe skies.” He rumbled, as you walked up to the elevator, not having a chance to turn around and look at him one last time as Jaehyun closed the door.

You hated how the taxi driver asked if you were okay, because you clearly weren’t - hot tears streaming down your face through the whole ride. You hated the side eyeing of every person at the airport, and then on the plane, judging your red face and puffy eyes.

You cried through the whole 13 hour flight, to the point you could barely see, both from soreness and puffiness of your eyes. They even pulled you for the random check at the airport, probably barely seeing the correlation between the photo and reality. You had to make up a joke about an allergic reaction.

You got in the taxi and barely held back from bursting there too, taking another 3 hours to settle in your booked apartment and finally be left alone. You had two whole days up your sleeve to just soak in your loneliness and cry.

Three months later you received the envelope for the first time. You tore those pages apart, calling Jaehyun despite it being late night back at home and cursing him. With every word you knew. You hated every bit of him for actually making those words come true.

Since then, you would get the papers regularly and would regularly dispose them into trash. Your reaction also became more stoic - simple no’s over the message or on the phone. You were almost convinced he sent them just so you’d talk, and you’d agree getting the papers daily, if that meant you’d hear his voice and his steady breaths through the phone.

“I thought I’ll never see you again.” Jaehyun broke down the dead silence that set in your apartment. You had no good reason to not leave immediately, but somehow you found yourself on the floor, going through make up like you needed to pick each item separately, stretching out time you could spend here.

It did you good, it seemed, Jaehyun finally build up courage to talk to you, or maybe just found words he could tell you.

“Why? It was set for just three years, and I would’ve eventually came back on vacation.” You haven’t used a single day, too scared to come back home and face him. But eventually, maybe, you could’ve done that.

“I thought you’ll sign the agreement and I won’t every see you again. Purposefully avoid you.” Jaehyun sat down on the bed, not far from you, you could move a little to the side and rest the back of your head against his knee, and you felt like it meant something. These words also supposedly meant something, why else would he come to you, when you’ve settled already that you’re leaving.

“Why?” You asked, careful. It was hard to keep your emotions at bay when they were already in your throat.

“I couldn’t look at you, I knew I’d be so overwhelmed, and I’m proven right. I’m overwhelmed.” You turned your head, looking at Jaehyun to make a conclusion on his emotions. He stared into the floor before him, eyes blinking slowly, like his brain is picking out the words carefully to not tell you too much. You wished he didn’t hold back.

“I’m so sorry, that I’ve suddenly been making your life a mess. We were never like this… right?” Jaehyun nodded slightly, zoned-out, it seemed.

“You were right, I really regretted not kissing you goodbye, not taking you to the airport myself. Really regretted not calling you and asking if you were okay, somewhere far away from home, all alone and hurt by me. I regret so much not replying to your message letting me know you arrived safely. I fucking hate myself for never wishing you a good night. And now it’s too late, irreparable. I’ve blamed you, but actually made the worst moves to ruin our marriage.” Every sentence felt like a shot straight to your chest. Every pause and single breaths after each word felt like the rope around your neck was getting tighter. It was never too late to work on your mistakes, as long as he wanted it too. “I just hope, moving forward, we can be acquaintances.” You choked.

“Right, acquaintances.” You could only muster out of your mouth. “I really have to get on the road.” You stood up, wiping the tear off your cheek, before Jaehyun could notice. You should’ve left before you’d head him call you an acquaintance. You were nauseous and probably weren’t save to drive. “I couldn’t see my car key where I left it. Do you know where it is?” You changed the topic, turning around to look at Jaehyun with no trails of emotional trauma.

“Ugh, yeah. It’s in my pocket. I’ve been driving your car lately, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.” Jaehyun got up, looking around for his jacket, you assumed.

“Why?” You asked, confused. He had his own car, the car he loved dearly, in fact. Always refused to go in yours, and he’s been driving it all of a sudden. What a weird confession to make. “Did something happen to your car?” It was the only logical interpretation of his words.

“No, yours just eating less gas-.”

“Really?” You looked at him confused, maybe he was right, you wouldn’t know.

“Yeah, here are the keys.” He reached out his open palm with the car key. You really refused to touch the skin of his hand. You reached out and then jerked your hand back, looking Jaehyun in the eyes to watch his reaction. He moved his other arm, grabbing onto your hand and pressing the key into your palm, covering it with the other.

This really went out of the no touching route, you hated how you immediately needed his hands all over your body. That’s exactly what you tried to avoid. Longing.

“I’m sorry if I left anything in the car-.”

“Stop, it’s not like your things would bother me.” You huffed, only now realising he’s still holding your palm between his fingers. “I anyway always preferred your stuff over mine, hope it’s something I could use.” You smiled, trying to make him feel better, yourself feel better. And it seemed to work, with the way Jaehyun looked you in the eyes and lit up for the slightest moment, before it felt like reality dawned on him, and he let go of you and dropped the smile.

You grabbed your stuff and walked out the apartment.

“Hey, Jaehyun?” Hyunjoo spoke into the phone in a hushed whisper, trying to keep the call out of everyone’s hearing ability.

“Oh?” She could clearly hear his astonishment in that sound. “Hyunjoo, hi. I thought I had your phone number saved.” Jaehyun scratched his brow. Caught absolutely off guard to hear your family member on the other side of the line. Did something happen to you?

“That’s our aunt’s, mine’s occupied by Nara and Uri.” Hyunjoo was well aware that information didn’t matter to Jaehyun, but still. She felt like sharing.

“Did something happen? Is my wife okay?” Even he himself hated the way he referred to you, unable to imagine how Hyunjoo must’ve cringed at him.

“No, she’s okay.”

“I see.” He sighed, weirded out by the call. That silence only gestured further more for Hyunjoo that something was off. Her hunch was strong, and the vibe coming from Jaehyun - she could tell, it didn’t give off the usual openness and sweetness. She were even more concerned, than before she called.

“I don’t know if my sister is lying that you two are all good, because something tells me you two aren’t on good terms-.” Hyunjoo trailed off, in hopes of Jaehyun catching the bait and telling the truth.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I think it’s better you discuss these things with your sister.” Jaehyun sighed into the phone, giving away more than he intended.

“All I know is, if she didn’t lie - you should definitely come, it’s our parents wedding anniversary. Our mom will eat your wife alive, you know how she hates when someone’s missing. Minhyuk is already a fallen victim for not coming in often enough, and it’s not long until she focuses on your absence.”

“I’m really sorry, I won’t make it today. It’s a four hour drive from my parents-.”

“Are you really at your parents?” Hyunjoo furrowed her brows, trying to hear over the loud talking of your family.

“Why?”

“There’s a train, you could hop on to that.”

“The train station is far from your house.” Jaehyun sighed, switching his arms that held the phone.

“I could pick you up.” Jaehyun stilled, not giving Hyunjoo an answer. “Do you love her or not?”

“Why?” Jaehyun sighed once again, and Hyunjoo could really hear the indecisiveness in that sound.

“When I asked you if you loved my sister last time I saw you, your ears turned all red and you said that you’re so in love, you feel your head get dizzy from time to time. It was less than I year ago. We joked around how you two are never coming out of that honeymoon phase. You didn’t throw at me that sad little why. Something really happened between you two.”

Jaehyun raised his voice, Hyunjoo finally could hear him properly. “Your sister left for a year, of course something happened between us.”

“She made a mistake, also quit the job to run back to you and I hope you’ll appreciate that action and find it in you to forgive her for her stupid ways.”

“She did what?” By the way Jaehyun gasped Hyunjoo could tell he was far from knowing the truth.

“What did she tell you about her comeback?” “That Seoul office needs were put before Seattle, so she was transferred back.”

“Unfortunately, despite a job, a marriage and other adult things in her life, she’s still a stubborn child, that can’t admit to things.” Hyunjoo rolled her eyes, looking for you in the crowded living room to scold you as soon as she’s off the phone.

“I’ll text you the time my train will be at the station. Okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be waiting. Guess see you tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweetheart, even Minhyuk made it over here after his shift! Where’s our precious Jaehyunie? Hey, Minhyuk, where did your wife disappear?” Your mom moved her attention back at you. “Where did Hyunjoo go?”

“I have no clue? She grabbed my car keys and said she’ll be back in an hour.” You shrugged.

“Where’s mommy, dada?” Nara asked her dad, pressing her little head into his chest.

“Will come back soon, picking things up.” His mouth pressed into her ear, striking you a look you didn’t know how to interpret for the meanwhile.

It all suddenly fell into place, when Jaehyun walked into the living room, Hyunjoo trailing right behind.

Every member of your family, your mom’s closest friends, jumped off their seats to pinch his cheeks, or slap it in a caring manner, comment on how good he’s looking, or how sweet he is for coming despite the distance from Seoul or his parents’.

It was hard for you to process his presence, especially when you didn’t even talk about it with him. You found your sister’s eyes on you with a smirk, not even hiding the fact it was her doing. You wondered how much she was able to work out on her own. About your marriage and the state it was in.

You felt your mouth open in shock, as you watched the encounter between Jaehyun and your dad, only to realise that he’s progressively getting closer to you. Finally closing the gap and wrapping an arm over your waist, mouth latching onto your temple. The touch wasn’t giving off any feelings, it was clearly an act for the public.

“Hi, baby.” He mumbled into your skin, moving away. “My mom told me to greet everyone on her behalf and she’s sorry for stealing me from this gathering.” He smiled sweetly at everyone, mouth pressing once again into your skin. “What is it? Why are you so flabbergasted?” He chuckled, fingers flexing over your waist like the last time he touched you, or kissed you in any way wasn’t almost a year ago.

“You said you can’t make it, I’m just confused.” You finally pulled yourself together, letting a small chuckle out. You finally looked at him up close, plastering a smile onto your face, palm moving onto his chest as your lips landed in the corner of Jaehyun’s mouth. You would’ve kissed his mouth, but were scared he’d tap out of that excessive acting. “Hi.” You whispered, not sure if anyone was locking in on the acting in front of them.

“Jaehyunie, you really made us worry, when my daughter was away and you wouldn’t come see us-.” Your mom pulled everyone’s attention back on you two.

“I just couldn’t imagine coming here, knowing I won’t see my wife for three years. I’m sorry, I should’ve been more cautious of how you’ll feel.” He bowed, making your grandmothers coo at each other.

“No, no. It’s all good. It is such a blessing that project got cancelled and they let you come back. A family should always be together, now you can try for babies-.”

“Mom.” You chocked.

“Yes, we obviously need Uri and Nara to become the wiser older siblings, just like their mom is.” Hyunjoo teased.

“We haven’t thought of that yet, you need to slow down. I just got back-.”

“You two are almost thirty-.” Jaehyun cut off, politely.

“We thought of a baby before everything happened, once my beautiful wife is ready, I’m sure it’ll happen.” You felt a little shiver of anxiety run down your spine.

You watched Jaehyun’s back for a little, comprehending whether or not he’d hate you progressing with the act. He straightened his back a little, and it was hard to hold back any longer. You wrapped your arms over his waist, tucking your face between his shoulder blades.

He stilled at first, wrapping his fingers over your arm a moment later.

“Thanks for coming here, I don’t know why or how Hyunjoo did it, but you saved me.” Your mouth left a kiss on his back, before snuggling your face into the material once again.

He tapped the back of your palm multiple times, before you worked out it was his call for you to let him go. You did so, taking a step back also, so he could turn around.

Jaehyun looked down on you, face not giving much to interpretation, but his arms wrapped around your shoulders and tucked you into his chest. Your arms found their place on his waist. This here, it felt like you were home for the first time since you came back. Despite spending this whole week back here, only now did it feel like you returned where you belonged. You tightened your hold around him, Jaehyun letting his back hit the counter and welcome you between his legs, arms holding you firmer in his hold. It was hard for you to see the truth behind the action. Did he do that to put an impression on your family that you were good? Did he do that because that’s all he wanted to do since you came back? Your fingers caressed his back in little pats, eyes closing and muting all the background noise, focusing on the beating of his heart only.

Jaehyun raised his head from the top of yours, only to bombard a multitude of kisses on top of your head. You felt like you were about to burn alive.

“Aigoo, how did you two live separately for a year, when you’ve seen each other in the morning and already can’t let go of each other.” Your mom let you know the act was seen. Jaehyun pulled back. “In the morning?” Jaehyun smiled politely at your mom, shifting his gaze at you. You smiled innocently, resting your head on his shoulder, until your mom would move her attention elsewhere. “What’s this about?” Jaehyun whispered into your ear.

“Act like we spent the week at home, will you?” You smiled, mouth almost not moving as you spoke.

“And may I know where you spent it?” Jaehyun’s arm wrapped tighter over your waist. The familiar press of his body against yours felt borderline ecstatic.

“Four Seasons…?” You cowardly admitted staying at a hotel for the whole week, instead of facing reality.

“You stayed at a hotel?! Instead of coming back home?” Jaehyun’s arm pushed you even more into his frame, hissing, making it wildly uncomfortable to press into his crotch during a build up for a confrontation. “Why do you hate me? I didn’t leave you.” Instead of a blow up, his shoulders slouched in lack of understanding your motives.

You wished you could answer that yourself.

“I guessed you won’t be comfortable being around me, but you came here. What did my sister tell you?” You hissed back at him.

“That your mom was halfway done with nagging at Minhyuk, and you were next in line for my absence. Said you won’t come out alive out of it, so I had to hop on the train. If you’re dead, who’s signing my divorce agreement?” He chuckled, your palm landed on his chest, asking for a little bit of space between you two. The joke didn’t land where he wanted it to. At least you were hoping, that he’s playful and not about to pop the pen and paper from behind him.

“We haven’t slept in a bed together since April last year.” You stated, eyes glued to your double bed.

“I’m aware.” Jaehyun simply shrugged. He might’ve not cared.

“Do you… not want to?” You still made sure to ask.

“I don’t care, I’m dead tired I’ll be knocked out on the floor, if it matters to you.”

"We should sleep tops to tails." you suggested, scared you'd eventually roll over into him and tuck yourself under his arm, like you knew you always did.

"Sure." Jaehyun gave you the curtest nod and sat down on the bed with his back facing you.

You grabbed the pillow and tossed it into supposed feet area, covering yourself with a duvet, thank God your mom had a spare one and you didn’t have to share it with him. "Turn off the light when you won't need it anymore. Thank you." you whispered and closed your eyes.

Jaehyun was well aware of the fact you couldn't fall asleep with the light on, it was obvious the man also knew how much you hated to have your full body covered, because you were immediately hot all over even in the winter. But you had to intention of letting him see any of you from behind the material.

You focused on the noises that were coming from him - he shuffled on the bed a little, clearly not lying down yet. Then he stilled, making you wonder if he was just staring at his phone, with the full illumination in the room. You were getting a little worked up at the idea of him purposely disturbing your wish to sleep. You wanted to turn around and see him and maybe have a little fight, because it seemed like the only valuable reason to talk to him.

You were feeling too warm under the duvet, all because of those thoughts, you needed him to turn off the lights, so you'd pull it off yourself. When he'd roll to the other side and won't see your bare legs in the darkness. As you made up your mind to fight, you heard him get to his feet and finally turn the lights off. You held in a sigh.

You listened carefully to his feet walking back to the bed and felt him sitting down. Heard and felt the mattress bend as he lowered his body fully and then shuffled with his own duvet. You felt the mattress bend under him as he probably turned away from you, and finally felt free to move the duvet off your body.

Taking a long breath and actually trying to fall asleep this time.

You tried not to picture much how you'd meet at the court's entrance to civilly agree on your divorce. You tried to shush those thoughts away and fall asleep quickly.

You heard a little shuffle behind your back, Jaehyun probably moving his arms around to find a comfortable position.

Until you felt his mouth on your outer ankle bone you were convinced Jaehyun was trying hard to fall asleep. Now you weren't so sure, as he moved his mouth a mere centimetre up. Your legs moved under his touch on reflex, trying to avoid the tickle of his mouth.

Jaehyun's fingers wrapped over your sole, holding your leg in place, as his mouth trailed up your ankle to your calf. "Tell me if you want me to stop." He skipped a few centimetres up your body and pressed his mouth into the middle of your thigh.

"It's okay." you whispered into the pillow, laying on your stomach. Jaehyun's mouth kissed your other thigh and moved away. You heard him shuffle behind you, probably sitting up, felt his fingers wrap around your ankles and pulling your body more to the centre of the bed. You tried to close your legs and felt his body between them.

You were already so damn wet, not knowing what he wanted or intended to do, but you were just hoping Jaehyun won't take long to find out how he made you feel.

His fingers ran up your legs while giving pressure to your skin, pressing his mouth right under your ass, the shorts giving him the perfect opportunity to feel up all the bare skin. You felt his tongue swipe up, while his hand squeezed the other side under its fingers. You perked your ass up, only to be pressed down with force.

Jaehyun's luscious mouth moved up your butt cheek and left wet kisses, when you felt a striking pain of his teeth, digging into the soft skin. As you gave out a whine and shuffled under him, Jaehyun's free palm pressed into your lower back to keep you in place, pressing his teeth into you even harder.

Your hand blindly found his head, trying to make him let go. It's not like he didn't know it hurt, he purposely hurt you.

"Baby, it really hurts." You finally whined, feeling his mouth let go of you and fall into your reached out hand, peppering kisses into your palm.

Your butt cheek was on fire.

"I know. That's your punishment for leaving me alone. For a whole fucking year. And staying at that fuck ass hotel for the whole week. Bet it doesn't even sting half badly to what my heart felt."

"I'm so sorry." you tried to turn around and see him, but Jaehyun's arms pressed into your knees. This was clearly another part of his punishment. "My ass is on fire, i need ice."

"I can give the symmetrical one to the other side, it'll for sure stop burning over here."

"No, please, this already hurts a lot. Is there blood?" you whined.

"I wouldn't bite that hard, you're silly. Just a little red mark. It's not that harsh." His fingers slapped the butt cheek and you let out an 'ouch'. It for sure felt like there was blood to you. "I missed you." he whispered in a hushed manner, pressing his mouth against you. “I had to fuck my hand for a year because my wife left me alone. Are you sorry for that also?”

“I am.”

“Good.” Jaehyun pressed flat out palm into your core, your body leaning into his hand to feel the pressure that made your eyes roll backwards. “Tell me if you don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I want to, my only concern would be my entire family sleeping in the same building.” You moved your body against his palm, giving yourself a bit of stimulation.

“Then you have to be extra cautious with your noises.” Jaehyun moved his fingers to the side, teasing the material of your underwear.

“You can silence me with your kisses. Please, let me turn around, I want to kiss you.” You whined, feeling his digits tease your slickness. Jaehyun’s thumb disappeared in your folds, giving you pressure you missed so much. One more swipe of his fingers and all you need is his hips thrusting into you full force. Fucking you stupid, until you can’t stand up the next morning.

“No, I don’t want you to.” His pointing fingers rolled over your clit in circles.

“I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“I can tell. You’re so wet, so warm, so ready to take me inside of you.” Jaehyun’s fingers rolled down your slit, pressing into your entrance. “But I kind of thought of something else?” His digits penetrated you, curling inside as your ass once again lift up from the mattress, adding on the friction and pressure.

“Baby, anything is good for me. Can you move your hand faster?” Jaehyun pressed his other hand into your clit, drawing small circle while pumping his other hand in and out of you.

“You can’t be cuming this early, no. I’m going to move slowly. You need to relax. Completely.” He let his hand from your clit press into your lower back to lay you back down. “Shh, you need to relax, I need you to be absolutely unwind.” Jaehyun caressed your thigh with that same hand, letting left-over slickness stain your skin.

“Why?” You mumbled into the pillow, arms grabbing onto the material, as Jaehyun pulled back. As the question left your lips, you felt his same digit give pressure to your anus. “Why?” You asked again, meaning why do you want to do anal when my whole family could hear us. Not why the hell do you want that now.

“Are you against it?”

“No, we maybe should’ve taken it home.” You whined as he caressed his fingers against you. “We can’t, not when you tell me you’ve slept in a hotel for a week, when I thought you were here. I could’ve been fucking you for a week, in every way I could think of. I could’ve even calmed down by now and started making love to you instead.” Jaehyun’s mouth trailed kisses down your back through your shirt.

“Do you know…how to do it properly?” He clearly did, you just liked asking stupid questions.

“I had plenty of time to work that out.”

“Don’t tell me it was through other people.” You swallowed a moan, feeling him slip into your wetness.

“You must be fucking insane. I would’ve kept my faithfulness to you even if you signed the papers and I walked into you five years later on accident. You’re the love of my fucking life, baby.” Jaehyun slipped two of his fingers inside of you, giving pressure to your ass with the third one.

“Jaehyun-ah.” You cried into the pillow not able to go with the same slowness of his movement, continue with that mere pressure into your ass, you needed more of him and more firmly, like you knew he was able to give.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He whispered sweetly.

There was no sweetness in your response. When you were horny, you were far from being sweet. “I want you to fuck my ass. And I want you to do it roughly.”

“I hear you.” Jaehyun whispered, pressing his mouth into your shoulder blade. “Let me take your clothes off, stick your ass up.” He let go of you completely, moving back down and watching you get on your knees. You stuck your butt out for him, his fingers immediately hooking onto your shorts and pulling them down your legs, throwing them off the bed with your underwear. You felt his mouth latch onto your heat, swiping the tongue up and down your slick folds, causing you to fold into his touch and chase his mouth with your core blindly. Your head buried deep into the pillow to not let the whimpers coming out of you be heard anywhere beyond your bed.

Jaehyun ran his tongue up and down, extending the trail up to your ass, repeating that same action multiple times. His fingers once again found your entrance, penetrating you full force with no warning. He didn’t really need to, you were so slick, he could get himself inside of you with no issue right the same moment. “We don’t have lube, so we’ll have to stick to your pussy’s slickness and my saliva. If it’s not doing it’s thing and it hurts, just tell me, okay?”

“It won’t hurt.”

“It can, baby. Promise you won’t endure pain to make me happy.”

“I won’t.”

“Good girl.” He moved his fingers from inside of you, pressing into your butt cheeks to spread you wider. You felt stars in your eyes as Jaehyun’s tongue slipped inside of you, it was firm, so wet and warm. You chased him once again, as he tried to move away from you, sticking his tongue into your vagina while his finger pressed into your other hole, taking your mind completely off that foreign but fascinating feeling.

Your arm reached out to your husband between your legs squeezing his thigh barely reaching with your fingers. If he was still your husband, he’d know you weren’t just wanting to hold on to him. And he was, indeed, still your husband, because you could hear the shuffling, and the struggle of him trying to take his sleeping pants off with just one hand. He finally did so, moving his hips forward, until the tip of his cock fell into your open palm and you wrapped around it, pumping his tip. Jaehyun let out the loudest sigh, like he was lifting weights at the gym, trying to hold himself together. You pumped him, until he became too heavy in your hand, pressing him into your slickness just so you could feel his warm leaking head press into your longing pussy. His cock felt so painfully hard and he obviously needed to slip himself inside of you.

You swiped his tip against your slit, making both you moan with the way the swipe felt so full to the both of you, until pressing him into your ass. Letting him know you wanted him get inside of you, just a finger wasn’t enough anymore. You needed the full experience he wanted you to have.

“Wait, baby, I need to find the condom.” Jaehyun pulled back, slipping his length out of your hold.

“I’m still taking birth control?”

“It’s not about that. Didn’t I tell you, had plenty of time to work out how to do it properly. I can’t do both your ass and pussy, because bacteria can cause infections in your vagina, we can’t be doing that, can we?” You nodded, feeling Jaehyun climb back onto the bed. “I can put it on you, like when we just started dating. You liked it so much.” You haven’t put a condom on him in maybe eight years, you wanted to remember the feeling.

“It’s okay.” You heard the foil break under his teeth, “Don’t want you to move out of this position.”

“Please?” You whined, reaching a hand out between your legs once again. Only now did you realise you obediently sat in the same position, when you could’ve turned around and force his mouth onto yours.

Jaehyun slipped his tip into your fingers, the rubber material hiding the tip from your direct touch as he slightly put it on already. You wrapped your finger over him and in one swift motion rolled it all the way up, giving his balls a squeeze before moving your hand back to the base. You guided his hips closer to you, smudging the condom with your slickness, as you worked him against you. He did say you’ll need a ton of lube for that.

Jaehyun moved away, your arm going back to the pillow to give you steadiness. You stuck your butt out more, hoping it’ll make easier for the both of you. You felt a drip of his saliva fall onto your skin, felt him smothering your entrance with his cock and felt the pressure, slipping himself into you.

“Is it…not working?” You asked, confused. You felt pressure, but couldn’t even comprehend the depth of that motion.

“It’s working, just don’t strain yourself, it’ll hurt me. Is it okay?”

“It is.”

“Do you want me to touch your pussy?”

“I want to feel this properly.” You whispered, sure of the fact he slipped past the tip - it felt like more pressure than before applied. “Fuck.” You gasped.

“Want me to move away?”

“No, I might need your fingers.”

“Where?”

“Clit.” Jaehyun urgently pressed his digits into your core, massaging your completely soaking mucous. It gave you that little bit of relaxation you needed to let go and allow Jaehyun to move further, he did just that, slipping himself in.

“Can I move?” Jaehyun sighed.

“Are you deep?” You felt like he was all in, he probably wasn’t.

“Mmh, like halfway?”

“Yeah, do that.” You whimpered as he moved away, pressing himself once again. “Do more spit.” You felt his warm saliva once again drip down your skin.

“Fuck, this feels insanely tight. Like the next thrust I’m not going to be able to move back.” He gasped with each thrust and you couldn’t understand if it somehow was what he expected.

“Do you hate it?” “No, I just have a feeling this won’t last long.” You could feel Jaehyun get deeper inside of you with every thrust of his. “Fuck, baby, you’re taking this so well.” He whined into your spine. “Fuck, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, hips finally pressing against your ass. Your fingers reached out to his balls, giving them a little stimulation while Jaehyun recollected himself. “Can I do it properly?”

“You can try.” Jaehyun angled your ass, moving out of you, only to slap his hips full force into you. It didn’t feel like pain. Pressure - yes, a lot of pressure that you’ve never felt before, stretching that made your core throb. You felt so full of your husband, ready to take thrusts of any power and force. You whined under his hold, every thrust of his hips making your breath hitch, pressure under every finger of his on your waist making your back arch back in want. You physically needed him to fill you up, you couldn’t care at this point in what way, as long as he was holding you in his arms.

His little grunts were getting progressively more expressive, making him mess up the tempo every once in a while. Jaehyun pulled out, and you could tell he moved away from you with the way his palms left your skin.

You tried to switch positions, get up from your now sore arms and turn to see his face. Jaehyun caught your arms with his, looping it around and pushing you towards him. So you’d get on your ass, while being half-way hostage in his hold and have no way to move your arms around. Mid-action Jaehyun put in extra care to make sure his tip lined up with you, sliding himself right into your slickness as you landed on his thighs. Filled to the brim with him. Just him, the condom disposed before the action.

You moaned.

The sound was so raw and sudden, you were convinced every other person that wasn’t asleep in the house heard it.

“Stop clenching around me.” Jaehyun grunted into your ear, mouth pressing into your jaw. “We won’t last five minutes, sweetheart.”

“Let me move.” You whimpered, trying to raise your hips up but struggling while your arms are locked in his hold.

“Okay baby, ride me.” Jaehyun let you go, lowering his back on the mattress, palms resting against the sheets. Your fingers gripped onto his thighs, wrapping around them firmly, using them as a prop for stability, raising your hips up in the slowest motion you could muster and sinking down with that same smooth, fluid motion.

Up and down.

Another one hollowing yourself and filling up, all in that slow, almost teasing pace that helped you keep your composure. You felt your insides grip onto him in an attempt to hold back, you weren’t able to do anything about it. It was either this, or spasming around him in literal five minutes.

And you couldn’t let that happen.

You haven’t felt him like that in a year. You’d like him to fill you up for the entirety of the night.

And you knew he’d do that if you just voiced out the need.

Jaehyun’s fingers rested on your hips, his silent gesture for you to raise up the speed.

You really couldn’t. Not with the way those thrusts made his tip press exactly into your g-spot, making your stomach grow heavier by the second with pleasure.

“Baby, are you good?” Jaehyun patted your side. You were uncharacteristically quiet during the process, just your thighs meeting his, fingers gripping onto his knee. Now, that you bent a little further. Mouth letting out heavy sighs as you were building up your high.

“Good.” You whispered.

“I can help you.” Jaehyun met you half way, forcing a grunt out both you and him.

“I’m doing good.” You cried in protest.

“You are, baby. You are doing so good and it’s getting painfully hard to hold back from cuming. Watching you sink down on me is definitely my favourite show to watch, but my vision’s getting blurry.” Jaehyun’s fingers forced you down onto him roughly as he buckled his hips into yours once again. “Can I help us both? Get on your knees. Please, baby.” You almost sighed, it was probably the first time you haven’t seen his face during sex, not once felt his tongue in your mouth. And he was the man that usually said he couldn’t think of fucking any other way than missionary because he loves to see your face expressions.

Maybe he’s changed his opinion, or what has changed is his feelings.

You did as he asked bending forward, tangling your legs with his thighs and getting Jaehyun lift his hips right into you. Quick-paced thrusts that made your bed’s wood creak under pressure.

Jaehyun moved his hips up, his fingers pushing your core closer to him. The pace he moved with made you absolutely dizzy, you had no thoughts properly forming in your head except for maybe how he was using all of his core strength to chase both his and yours highs.

Your hips met his thrust half way up, helping him to pop that bubble of pressure in your stomach, until you felt yourself pool. Silent gasps and cries escaping through your mouth. Then, like a chain reaction Jaehyun’s thrust lost rhythm as your pussy gripped onto him mercilessly. You sank down feeling him spill, making slow thrusts to ride out his high.

Jaehyun stilled, letting his limbs fall off your lower back and onto the bed. Heavy breathing filling up the room.

You needed to lie down too, attempting to roll over to the side. Jaehyun didn’t let you, his arms wrapping over your waist, forcing you to fall down onto his chest. Keeping himself inside of you. “Can I have your body weight on me for a little while?” Jaehyun mumbled against your skin, mouth pressing into your shoulder.

“You can.” Your voice barely came out of your throat. “It’s the first time we’ve gotten intimate in over a year. And the first time we didn’t even take our clothes off properly.” Only now did you notice and feel, that you both had your shirts still on. You wouldn’t be too surprised if the sleeping trousers he wore weren’t properly off his body either. “First time I haven’t seen your face nor kissed your mouth. And we’ve been together for a decade. Is that supposed to mean something?” You questioned in a whisper. Jaehyun didn’t budge, it’s like he didn’t care about the emotional turmoil you were going through. “Jaehyun?” you called out his name, squeezing his forearm for a reaction.

“I’m so tired.” He let out a loud sigh into your ear, mouth pressing into your jaw. “Sorry, sweetheart, did you say something? I got knocked out under you.” He yawned, you had no emotional capacity to comprehend wether he play pretended or not. You wanted to not feel his arms press into your stomach.

You pulled onto them and freed yourself, sitting up and eventually moving away. Jaehyun let out an ‘ouch’ at your motion.

You just felt hollow, just like your heart did last few months, throwing the shorts on and hiding yourself in the bathroom.

Rebound sex seemed to be a bitch.

You dreaded to open your eyes, but you knew you had to. Your mom had a very strict policy of no sleeping past 9 am, and you weren’t sure Jaehyun got up to shower after what you did and put his underwear on. Or if he put the condom away or it was laying somewhere next to the bed.

Your mom catching up on obvious signs of you having sex last night seemed worse than facing your husband, and you opened your eyes quickly, looking over the room. Your eyes fell onto the chair, surprised to find Jaehyun sitting in it. Feet up on the cushion, eyes trained on the phone while he obviously scrolled.

Good thing he was dressed.

Though he was wearing his jeans and that made you let him know you were awake.

“Are you leaving?” Your voice sounded like you had nightmares of your husband having sex with you and handing you the divorce agreement right as you were cuming. Or did you really dream that? You needed to check your bedside table for pen and paper.

“Hm…no?” Jaehyun looked up from his phone confused. “Good morning to you too, though.”

“Why are you in your jeans at 8 am?” You frowned.

“Can’t I take a walk?”

“I’m sorry for asking.” You folded immediately. You could still feel his fingers on your thighs, you were in no place of mind to fight.

“Do you… feel okay?” He tip-toed over the topic.

“I haven’t moved a limb, don’t know.” Jaehyun dropped his phone on the floor, making you anxious with the speed he crossed the room to get on your side of the bed. “Did you throw the condom away?”

“I did, your mom’s been up since like 5:30 am. I heard her move around the house.” He gave you the weakest smile.

“I see.” You sighed, wildly awkward of Jaehyun standing above you like you were on your deathbed.

“Can you sit up?” He questioned, clearly concerned over your physical state.

“Jae-.” You had to stop a chuckle. “We had sex, it’s not like I’m going to die after that. We had sex before. A lot of times.” You would like to not think of those times to not get yourself worked up.

“Not like that though.” He gave you a brow. You wondered if he meant the physical way he did it, or your emotional state or something else.

“Is that the only thing that bothers you?” Not like, the fact we have not kissed during the process?

“That’s first priority.”

“Okay, I’m going to sit up.” You let him know, pulling yourself together to get up. Despite the tiresome state of your system. Jaehyun watched your face intently, looking for any sign of discomfort that could come.

Okay, he might’ve been right. You didn’t feel perfectly fine, you felt sore, a little pain also followed in your thighs. Nothing you couldn’t endure anyway. Jaehyun read through discomfort that showed on your face for a split second.

“See.” He sighed knowingly, walking off the bed and returning with a bag in his hand. “I got you something.” He admitted quickly, reaching his fingers into the bag. “This is an electrolyte water. Also vitamin c.” He got two bottles out of the bag, expecting you to take them, so you did. “I didn’t know if it’s better with heat or cooling - I got a heat pack and this cooling spray just in case-.”

“At the convenience store?” You asked confused, you’ve never heard of cooling sprays at convenience stores, but then again - you never looked for them.

“Yes.” He let all of the things fall onto your lap. “And this mini croissants salt bread. Thought you might like it. It’s the new product, got on market while you were away.” The baby-blue pack fell onto your lap last. You looked at everything, overwhelmed with the fact Jaehyun cared for you as much as he did before. Despite the signs earlier.

Or maybe he just wanted to be nice, patch up your bruises and get you to sign those papers while you’re touched by him?

“Thank you.” You could only muster, raising your eyes to see his face plastered with cute smile, that made both his dimples pop. He gave you a nod and turned around probably to get rid of the bag.

“Jaehyun…”

“Yes?” At the call of his name he was looking you in the eyes in a second.

“I still don’t want that divorce to happen… I didn’t come back because the project got cancelled. It got cancelled, because I said I’m going back home. I asked for their understanding a long time ago. First, they told me I needed to assimilate, that I was just home sick and thus asked to be dismissed. I agreed, stayed another month, but it wasn’t going away. That sorrow and emptiness weren’t going anywhere. I told them I’m going back, but they pleaded me to stay just another month to find a substitute. Then a month stretched into two and three. I only was able to make it back to you now. I was sick this whole time, when you first actually send me the papers, I cried the whole week. I wanted to go back immediately, and I weren’t allowed to. I really fucked us up, you were right when you said I acted like the 10 years of us didn’t matter to me… because I don’t know what the fuck I was doing. I left and realised that the life I thought I was able to live, actually was unbearable without you. How funny is that? Expected myself to kill this whole thing, return back home to you and slide into our bed like nothing happened, when I clearly hurt you, and myself. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, what’s done cannot be undone, so I guess I am signing those papers. I can’t hold you back forever, just ask your lawyer to send one more copy to our apartment.” You sobbed defeated.

“What?” Jaehyun sounded astonished, you raised your face to see him. Probably jumping in happiness.

“I said I’ll sign those papers.” You repeated to his face.

“You still want to get divorced? I thought we just had reconciliation sex and will move on?” He took multiple steps back to you.

“Huh? I thought this was a goodbye?” “And why would I go to a convenience store at 7 am then?” Jaehyun furrowed his brows even deeper.

“To get me on your good side… so I’d sign the agreement?” You told him what you took this as.

“Are you… crazy? How did I even marry a crazy lady like you.” He chuckled in clear disbelief.

“You didn’t kiss me once last night, didn’t even look me in the eyes once. What was I supposed to take this as?” It was your turn to frown.

“Me fucking you from the back like I said I was gonna to.” He exclaimed louder than intended, having you shush him with your hands immediately.

“I don’t understand, I’m sorry.”

“You’re back for forever? This is not a holiday brake, right?” Jaehyun crossed the room.

“No, I’m back for good.”

“I wanted a divorce not because I didn’t love you. I wanted a divorce because I didn’t want to hold you back here. If you were gonna settle in the US for three years, I didn’t want to be the anchor that pulled you back here. If you’re here, we should reconcile and not do the stupid thing. I love you.” He said in one quick breath.

“You do?” “Of course, sweetheart. I always will.” Jaehyun kneeled in front of your half-sitting body.

“I love you too.” You admitted quickly.

“Good, I guess now that we’re settled I can have my real kiss.” He pulled on your palms, bending your back towards him. Before his mouth could touch yours, you pulled back.

“But why? Why you didn’t kiss me last night? Can’t believe in what you said.”

“I told you when you were leaving. We are not having our last kiss. I weren’t sure, last night, that it won’t be the last time I kissed you, so I refrained. Now that I am sure, I don’t have a good reason to not do that.”

“Your brain is… insane?” You chuckled, but instead of letting him pull you down, forced him up and on top of you, sealing your mouths in the slowest twirl of your tongues.

“Mom! They’re making you more grandkids!” Your sister forced the door wide open, not giving either of you a moment to react, or to let go of each other.

“Close the door!” you growled, hiding Jaehyun’s face in the crook of your neck.

“I heard enough moans last night, can’t be listening to that while I’m having breakfast! Come on you two! Mom said breakfast’s ready. I’m giving you 45 seconds to pull your shit together or mom locks you two up to conceive that baby now!”

“Ew.” You made the loudest sound of disgust, Hyunjoo threw a towel she had in her hands towards you and closed the door. Jaehyun raised his head up looking at you with the wildest grin, face gone red as a tomato.

“She heard everything.” Jaehyun let out a low chuckle out. “I’m not going there.” He rolled over onto his back.

“You are! I’m not facing my family after what she just said on my own!”

hope you enjoyed, any feedback is highly appreciated <3

#jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #nct smut #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun fanfiction #nct jaehyun #nct fanfic #nct jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfiction #jaehyun #jung jaehyun

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dollyswishingwell · 1 day ago

Text

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ I’ll think for you

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ yandere, manipulation, dependency, power imbalance, forced domesticity, isolation, a tiny bit infantilisation, this is me getting yall slowly used to dark content

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ They shaped you to be exactly how they want

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You used to be so independent. So opinionated, so decisive. A skilled hunter of the Deep Space Hunter Association, Graduated top of the academy. And now?

You’re a delicate little thing wrapped in lace and pearls, sitting in Rafayel’s lap at a velvet booth in the most exclusive restaurant in the city. His hand strokes slow circles on your bare thigh, keeping you calm as your wide, pretty eyes flit nervously over the menu.

Not because you can’t read it. But because, “Raffy,” you whisper softly, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, “…I can’t pick..”

He beams. Oh, you sweet, helpless thing. “Mm, my baby wants the saffron lobster risotto,” he murmurs against your temple, curling a lock of your hair around his finger. “You always get pouty when the rice is undercooked anywhere else, remember?” He tucks the menu away without you even touching it. “And we’ll share the strawberry mille-feuille after. No cherries. I’ll kill them if they bring cherries again.”

You nod obediently, letting him order for you, your fingers fidgeting with his sleeve like a lost child. You don’t even notice the way the waiter looks at you with pity. Or is it fear?

Rafayel doesn’t mind. He lives for this. For your dependency. For the way you look to him like he’s your entire world, because he is.

You don’t shop anymore unless he’s there to tell you what’s pretty.

You don’t eat unless he feeds you the first bite.

You won’t even open the curtains without asking him if it’s okay today.

And when you’re home, swaddled in your frilly little outfits, toddling after him barefoot in your designer slippers, asking “Raffy, can I put ribbons in my hair today or are we staying in?”, he nearly collapses from how cute you are.

You can’t function without him anymore. And he made sure of that. Sure, It took a while to get you to this state but he managed.

Rafayel hums softly as he spoons the first bite into your mouth. “That’s it, sweet girl. Good, isn’t it?” His smile deepens when you nod happily, your lips still parted a little for another bite. “See? You don’t need to worry about anything. Just let Raffy take care of it all.”

His voice is so soft, so gentle. But beneath it is that familiar edge of obsession.

If you ever did try to choose something without him now,

If you ever said, “I think I want—” instead of “Raf, What should i—?”

he’d smile at you just the same.

But the look in his eyes would turn terrifyingly cold.

Because you’re his. Utterly, helplessly his.

And he won’t let you survive without him.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Your life is so easy now. No stress, no pressure. Just floating through luxury in silk nightgowns and diamonds, curled up in Zayne’s lap in the garden pavilion or lounging in the marble tub he has drawn for you daily at 7pm sharp. He handles everything. He decides everything.

You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything anymore.

And he made sure of that.

⸻

You’re out for dinner with him, very rarely, only when he says it’s safe enough, and you’re clinging to his arm, face half-hidden in his shoulder as the waiter approaches.

“Have you two decided?”

You blink at the menu like it’s written in another language. You didn’t even read it. You looked at Zayne the moment you sat down, your hand resting lightly on his thigh under the table, eyes wide and waiting.

He glances down at you briefly, one of his hands sliding protectively behind your back. “She’ll have the roast duck. Glazed, no herbs on the skin. And the red wine reduction on the side, she doesn’t like it poured over.”

He doesn’t ask you. He knows.

You give a little hum and lean into him, relaxing instantly. “Thank you, Zaynie…” you whisper against his collarbone.

The waiter leaves. Zayne stays silent for a moment, sipping his drink, then gently shifts your chair a little closer to his. Always keeping you within arm’s reach. Always watching you.

“You didn’t even glance at the menu,” he murmurs, tone unreadable.

You blink up at him like a kitten caught doing something wrong, but you can’t tell if he’s displeased.

Zayne watches the way you shrink slightly, how your lips pout just faintly. His hand reaches under the table and settles possessively on your thigh.

“…Good,” he says after a long pause, his voice soft and deep. “You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that anymore.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, lips ghosting across your cheek. “You’re not built for decision-making. Let me handle it.”

And you do. Always.

You wake up when he tells you.

You eat what he places on your plate.

You wear what he’s laid out on the bed each morning, with the jewelry box open for you like a princess.

When you feel anxious, you bury your face in his chest and ask softly, “Zay, what should I do…?” — and he holds you like you’re breakable, whispering, “Just follow me. That’s all you ever have to do.”

He’s spent years making sure you rely on him so fully you wouldn’t last a day without him. And the way you smile when he decides everything for you? Like being cared for is the only thing you’ve ever known?

Zayne would never admit it aloud, but he lives for that look.

You’re not just his housewife. You’re his porcelain doll, the soft and helpless girl he locked away from the world just to protect and control.

And he loves you like that.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It’s subtle, with Xavier.

So soft you don’t even realize how deeply you’ve sunk into him, how utterly dependent you’ve become.

You don’t remember when it started. When your “What do you think, baby?” turned into “I don’t know unless you tell me.” When your curiosity, your opinions, your sense of direction, all slowly dissolved into him.

Now, you’re just his. A sweet, soft-spoken housewife who waits by the window for him, dressed in his favorite pale colors, your hair styled just the way he likes, your entire world revolving around when he comes home.

You don’t even know what you like anymore unless Xavier whispers it in your ear.

⸻

You’re out with him, rare, but he allows it. Only in quiet, secure places. Tonight, you’re seated across from him in a secluded booth at a lantern-lit garden café in the upper rings of Skyhaven.

There’s a pretty dessert menu in front of you. You tilt your head at it like it’s written in another language.

“Xavi,” you murmur softly, tugging at his sleeve with both hands, “…what do i want?”

He smiles at that. Not in mockery. Not in amusement. In devotion.

“You want something warm,” he murmurs gently, sliding the menu away and taking your hand, long fingers threading through yours. “Something gentle. Not too sweet.”

He strokes his thumb along your wrist as he places the order. You lean forward, pressing your cheek against his hand as if to say thank you for thinking for me, again.

You always look to him before making any move. You won’t even stand up without asking, “should I follow now?”

He picks your dresses.

He braids your hair in the morning.

He brushes your teeth for you when you’re sleepy.

And when you’re nervous about anything, even something as small as picking the scent of the room diffuser, your first instinct is to turn to him and whisper, “What would make you happy…?”

And he always gives you an answer. Always, so quietly. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to guide you.

Because you’re his pretty housewife. His soft little wife who doesn’t need to think. He’s the one who bears the burden of decision. You just have to smile, stay close, and let yourself be loved.

“You’re happiest when you let me think for you,” he whispers against your temple one evening, as he tucks you into the massive bed in your penthouse. “Don’t worry, sweetheart… I’ll never let the world confuse you again.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You don’t make decisions.

You don’t even pretend to anymore.

You flinch when someone asks you, “Paper or digital receipt?”

You hesitate in boutiques, waiting for Sylus to tilt his head before stepping toward the display.

Even at home, you sit quietly beside him, legs tucked under you, waiting for him to decide what you’ll eat, wear, watch, or do.

Not because he forbade you.

But because he’s so perfectly, ruthlessly conditioned you not to.

⸻

Tonight, you’re seated beside him at a private luxury tasting hosted by an ally syndicate. Glittering cityscape behind you, violins playing faintly. You look divine in the dress he chose. The one with the daring back and delicate sleeves that makes you look more like a prize than a wife.

A waiter steps forward. “And for the lady?”

You blink, clearly startled. You hadn’t been paying attention, just tracing lazy shapes on Sylus’ thigh, face resting against his shoulder.

Sylus doesn’t even let you speak.

He lifts his wine glass without looking at the man. “She’ll have the truffle risotto. No onions. She won’t touch it if she smells even one.”

The waiter hesitates, eyes flicking between the two of you. Sylus gives him a single glance, cold, razor-sharp. That’s all it takes. The man practically bows and disappears.

You blink up at Sylus. “I didn’t even realize I don’t like onions…”

He smiles, so smug, so fond, so terrifyingly pleased. “You don’t. You used to pretend you did. For appearances.”

You didn’t even remember that.

But Sylus did. He remembers everything. He’s constructed your new life down to the minute. You don’t have to know anything. He’s already decided what you should.

And it’s so easy to let go.

⸻

You once stood against him as a force. A powerful figure with opinions, ambitions, sharp edges. Took him a while to break you down but now you’re a perfect little thing in designer heels and soft perfume, standing half a step behind him and gripping his sleeve like a doll.

And he loves it.

“You used to challenge me,” he’ll murmur while brushing your hair, voice velvet-slick. “Now you ask me which hand to wear your rings on. How far we’ve come, my little bride.”

You’d never survive without him. Not because you couldn’t try.

But because he made sure you wouldn’t want to.

Why would you?

When Sylus gives you everything you could ever want, except freedom?

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You’ve been his since you were four years old.

Even then, Caleb was the one who brushed your hair, tied your shoes, and chose which dress you wore on school days. Even when he was just six, he took responsibility for you in a way that was unnatural. Fierce. Obsessive.

So now, as his wife, you don’t lift a finger without him.

You don’t have to.

Because Caleb has spent every waking moment of his life making sure you wouldn’t know how.

⸻

You’re seated beside him in the Skyhaven Officer’s Club, plush and extravagant, your legs swinging beneath the table, perfectly dressed in the soft pearl chiffon gown he picked out for you. His gloved hand rests on your lower back, keeping you steady and close.

The menu sits untouched in front of you.

“Baby,” he says lowly, voice calm, “read it.”

You blink at him, lashes fluttering. “I don’t know what I want,” you murmur shyly, fingers twisting in your lap.

“No.” His purple eyes cut to you sharply. “You don’t make decisions. I do.” He places a single gloved hand over the menu, slowly sliding it toward himself. “But I want to see if you even remember how.”

You go quiet. Embarrassed. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

He stares at you for a moment longer before softening, sighing under his breath. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, low and satisfied.

He orders for you. Cuts your food into bites for you. Swaps your glass of water when he sees the condensation has made it too cold. When the waiter brings a side dish that has even a hint of spice, he narrows his eyes and says, “My wife doesn’t eat that. Fix it.”

And you, so sweet, so dependent, you look up at him after every bite like you want praise for just chewing. It makes his chest tighten. He lives for this.

You ask him what to wear.

You ask if it’s okay to sit on the balcony.

You even ask if you’re allowed to use the pink lipstick he bought you.

He trains you into this kind of helplessness. Not through cruelty, but through constant, overwhelming control. Quiet discipline. Every time you make a decision on your own? He gently corrects you.

“Pips, that’s not your job,” he’ll say, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Your only responsibility is to look pretty and wait for me.”

And you do. You really do.

He’s raised you into this. His good girl. His housewife. His soft little thing that wouldn’t know how to breathe without him reminding you.

And that’s exactly how he wants it.

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leyavo · 2 days ago

Text

Simon Riley dating someone that grew up with a similar childhood like him.

He loves that you haven’t lost your childlike wonder and remained soft. You don’t let your bad experiences taint the way you treat others either.

You introduce him to the whole inner child notion and he listens to you as you talk about the toys you’ve recently bought. All the little trinkets you wanted as a child, but never got. He doesn’t make fun of you, knows that it makes you happy to acknowledge your younger self.

If he sees something you’ve mentioned, he’s definitely buying it for you. He even likes that you’ve got him stuff he wanted when he was a kid too.

Reading comic books together, he takes them to the base with him when he’s away. Smiles when he finds your little notes in between the pages. Silly thoughts of the plot line and how it was your favourite character. He loves that you’ve given him the space and safety to be vulnerable together, to touch on the past and create some good.

John Price dating someone disciplined like himself. Self assured and ready to go for what they want. You’ve known what you’ve wanted since you were young and done exactly that. Nothing can stop you once you have a goal.

He teases you for your military folding and the way you tuck your clothes in the drawer. Asks if you’ve ever enlisted knowing that you really haven’t. Loves that you can talk you’re self out of anything, saved him a parking fine a few times.

He loves that you approached him first and asked him out. Likes that you’re upfront about your feelings and assessing the relationship, making sure you’re both on the same page. There’s no room for silent treatment or lashing out, not when you two are honest. Too honest that you end up mirroring each others bad habits and come face to face with the things that need working on.

Because that’s what you do, you work on the hard stuff and come out on the other side of it a better person. You make him a better person without even meaning to. He’s the first one in your corner, backing you up when you’re stressed with work and need to vent, his similar train of thought easing your worries and helping you figure out a solution.

Johnny Mactavish dating someone that grew up just as wild as him. Both from a big family, elbows clashing with siblings at the dinner table. Never a quiet room in your childhood home that you aren’t afraid to take up space.

The type of kid that had scraped knees from climbing trees and mud splattering your shins. One that didn’t come home till the street lights came on.

Athletic too, he likes to look through the boxes of medals and trophies you worked hard for. Asks you about the skills you’ve learnt etc, if you’ve taken a fighting sport he’s definitely rolling around the floor with you.

He loves that you match his competitive nature, always seeing who can get home first from a morning run. Or betting on which team are going to win the match.

Rock climbing, hiking….any extreme sport really. You’re both up for it. He loves that you push him to do more, encourage him to keep going even if it’s difficult. Not everything comes easy, but you know that time and effort always pays off. That and it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun and take a risk.

Kyle Garrick dating someone who’s strongly led by their morals. Someone who was taught to stand up for those in need. You’ve always sought justice and did the right thing even when it was hard. There’s not much you’re backing down from and it keeps Kyle level headed.

You hold him accountable for things, let him know that what he’s done doesn’t sit right with you and you are the first to admit when you are wrong. The first to apologise, there’s no shame in it for you.

But above all he loves how caring you are, how you can comfort anyone no matter their age. How vulnerability is a strength and not a weakness.

How you build him back after a mission, let him process all the emotions and then ask for you. When he’s ready, so are you.

He lightens your mood, knowing that you’re deeply moved by what’s happening in the world currently. Gives you a breather, offers you a space to shut out everything beyond your home with him.

[Masterlist]

162 notes · View notes

legendofmorons · 2 days ago

Text

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter fifteen - Exile

Pairing: pre! Poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader

Rating: T

Summary: you and Hyrule's wake up after the dungeon disaster and some hard conversations are had. Hyrule has a realization. Unfortunately there are still many more difficult discussions to come.

(Aka: you tell the same story three times, Hyrule has a realization and too many feelings, and Wild is pretty sure tomorrow is going to suck.)

Warnings: cursing, grief, hard discussions

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

Previous masterlist next

-------

Four is in the middle of staring into the trees and arguing with himself mentally during watch when you jolt awake.

It's been almost twenty-four hours since you emerged from the temple, and you are only now awake.

You gasp, startling upright with wide eyes as you look around. Your shoulders are high, and your breathing is shaky.

"You're awake," Four breathes out.

Your gaze snaps to him, shoulders relaxing. "Hi."

"Hi," Four echoes.

"Where's Hyrule?" You ask as you start looking around again.

Four points behind you to where Hyrule lays in his own bed roll. "He's there. He hasn't woken up yet."

You turn to look at Hyrule and elaborate on your thoughts further. "Oh, thank goodness. He's alive."

"He is. You both looked... rough when you came out.

You give a shaky laugh. "I felt rough, too."

For just hums, finding the least aggressive way to ask the question that weighs in his mind. "Why did you go in?"

You look at him, gaze guarding yourself. "Hyrule was... he went in and wasn't himself... I went in after him."

That... isn't what Four thought you would say. It's a little reassuring that you aren't the one who went in first, but that you went in at all is terrifying.

That's the kind of thing his angel would do.

You aren't them, though.

(Right?)

"What even happened?" Four asks you.

"The whole place was an evil magic death trap," you sigh as you lean back onto your hands. You sound as if you are resigning yourself to something and only half awake while you do so.

"That sounds right."

"There wasn't even a tool or anything cool at the end. Our prize was not dying," you snort, not awake enough to try to be outwardly upbeat just yet.

"Well I glad you're alive."

"Yeah... me too."

Four wants so badly to ask for more information.

He wants so bad to ask for what exactly happened.

He wants to ask about why you were dragging Hyrule out of the place.

He wants to wrap you up and shield you from the world.

He wants to shake you and demand that you never do this again.

"I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir, but dungeons are awful, and I hate whoever makes them," you sigh as you get out of your bedroll and stand up.

Four snorts at that, "You're right."

"Yeah. I don't know how you guys do them."

"We have to."

"That... makes sense," you sigh.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Four asks softly, allowing himself to embrace the softer parts of him for a moment.

He can't let them run the show for long right now, not while you're here stirring up grief and guilt. He knows it isn't your fault, though.

He just also can't let his emotions run the show while he's so - unsure of his emotions.

You give a slow sigh. "I'm just - it's been a rough however long we were in there."

"About two days," Four says.

You make a soft sound. "Oh."

"Do you.... want to talk about it?" Four asks.

You just sigh again, "I just - I messed up everything. I tried to do the right thing, but all I did was mess up."

"I'm sure that's not true. You made it out."

"I - you're going to be so mad at me - all of you are."

He frowns, unsure what could possibly be as bad as you're saying. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Just - If I tell you you have to agree not to yell at me until I'm done."

"I'm not going to yell," Four says immediately.

He means it.

Even if you're right and he is about to be mad at you - which he very much doubts - yelling is not the solution.

You sigh, crossing over to come sit closer to him.

"I made a deal with a fae, made Hyrule a Promise after saying I wouldn't do that, and used violence to knock him out and then dragged him," you say quickly, looking at the fire instead of anywhere else.

Four just swallows. That... sounds bad, all right, but there has to be more to the story. Up until now, you haven't shown violent tendencies towards people.

"Why?" He prompts.

You look at him this time, shoulders hunching up by your ears. "I - I wasn't thinking when I made that Promise to Hyrule. I say things like that, and I didn't realize until after! I know that dosen’t make up for it, but I didn't - I didn't mean to."

"I'm not mad at you for that. You know it was wrong, and you're going to make a better effort going forward, aren't you?"

"I am! I don't want to cross his boundaries ever," you say with enough guilt in your voice and posture to paint an entire castle.

"Okay. You'll have to talk to Hyrule about it, but I'm not mad at you for that."

"And the other things?"

"That depends on context," Four says carefully.

You nod and bite your lip. "I - don't know what exactly was going on in that temple, but there was some sort of... magic that was being used on Hyrule to make him hear things, and he wasn't really aware of reality."

"You mentioned he was acting weird."

"I don't know what he heard. He had maybe ten minutes of lucidity total... but there was a fae who controls the temple, I guess? They were the final challenge or something. We were given a choice to stay or leave."

"And he chose to stay?" Four asks with mounting dread.

If Hyrule was being controlled by faerie compulsion magic to the extra you say....

Well, that's bad on levels Four isn't able to name just yet.

"He did. Whatever magic was being used just got stronger the longer we were there. I said he couldn't stay and... was offered a deal..." you say as you toss him a quick glance.

"Tell me you didn't..." Four manages shakily.

Making a promise to Hyrule is bad enough. The man is a fae himself, which Four only knows because of the blacksmith's own herritage...

Making a deal with a malicious fae? That's often deadly.

You crack a shaking smile, "I was told if I could get Hyrule out in an hour, we would both be free."

"That was - so dangerous," Four says as gently as he can.

You swallow hard again. "I know. But - I the Promise I made was to get us both out alive..."

Four can't help the half sob the escapes him, heart clenching painfully."Oh (Y/n)..."

"I know I shouldn't have done it, any of it. I'll talk to Hyrule, and I'll face the consequences, but I try to keep my word, you know?" You offer.

You don't say anything about the magic around the promise, and Four isn't sure you know it's actually binding.

You were in a situation with no good choice.

Four bites back every ounce of anger for the fae that did this to you and Hyrule. Right now, he needs to be calm for you and for Hyrule.

You are not someone he knows well despite all of the hope he is constantly repressing, but you are someone who is stuck on this journey with him and is doing their best.

"You took the deal," Four breathes out.

"I took the deal. He was so out of it, and I tried to get him out with words. I did!"

"Don't tell me you knocked him out."

"I did... I know it's wrong! I do! I almost didn't do it, but I had to get us out."

"I - there was no good choice."

"I couldn't have dragged him the magic, and whatever he was experiencing made him want to stay so bad he would have fought me tooth and nail..."

"This is... a lot to process," Four sighs as he shoves back the headache forming.

"Yeah... I told you I messed it all up."

"No, you didn't. You did your best in a horrible situation set up against you. You and Hyrule have a lot to talk out and work on, but you didn't do anything just to be cruel."

"I would never!" You say immediately.

Four just nods, "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. But I'm not mad, and the only person who really has any reason to object is Hyrule."

"I know."

"He'll forgive you. He might just need space."

"I'll give him as much as he wants."

"It'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Four says.

"Okay."

He bites his cheek, pondering if he should warn you about who's on next watch or about how the others are going to want to know what you did too.

"At least Wars can't lecture me about my shield this time," you offer after a moment.

Four snorts, "No, he can't."

"I'm sorry I dumped all that on you."

"I offered to listen, I don't mind."

"Okay."

"The others are going to want to know what happened," Four says.

"I know."

"You don't have to tell everyone."

"I know."

"You did the best you could in a bad situation," Four soothes.

"I... yeah."

"I'm glad you're safe."

You crack a smile, "Me too... I shouldn't have told you all of that before I talked to Hyrule..."

Your voice is low and shaking as you stare at your hands.

He... can't argue with that, but he doubts it was a malicious act. "Maybe."

"Please don't tell anyone else," you say as you turn your gaze to him. "I'll talk to them all I just - Hyrule deserves to know everything before then."

Four nods. He can't disagree with that either. If he was in Hyrule's position, he wouldn't want to find out when everyone else did either. "I won't."

"Thank you," you manage as you look away.

Four let's the silence settle as he spins your words in his mind.

You definitely did some not great things, but then again... who hasn't messed up?

You made a promise to Hyrule, which is not great, but it's already done.

You made a deal with a fae, but if you hadn't, you'd have broken your Promise to a different fae...

Knocking Hyrule out isn't his first choice, but he definitely understands, and he isn't going to judge you for doing what you had to to get out.

Besides, you seem to be horrified enough by your actions for everyone. As long as this doesn't become a pattern, Four can look past it.

Although... Four can't shake the dread around the idea that you can knock them out. Knowing that you can feels... strange.

He's going to have to work through all of this later.

You sit with him as his shift passes.

"Who's on next watch?" You ask.

Four glances over, "Legend is."

"I'll take watch, I can't sleep anyway," you shrug.

"You don't have to."

"I'm okay to do it. He was worried out of his head. I'm sure, I think I heard him fighting earlier? Dunno, but I know you're all close to Hyrule, and none of you get enough sleep."

"You know we worried about you too, right?"

"Well... yeah? But I'm not worth losing sleep over. We aren't close."

Four ignores the flare of emotion. "You're worth caring about."

"I - thanks?"

He knows you don't believe him, and he doesn't know how to convince you.

"I mean it," he says.

"Okay. I can still take watch. I can't go back to sleep."

"I - if you're sure."

"I am."

"Okay," Four says.

He has to work on treating you like you can do things. He knows this. He won't fight you.

You just spent two days surviving a dungeon while babysitting Hyrule. You're obviously capable of keeping watch.

By the time he turns in, you are plenty awake enough to take last watch.

-------

You are in the middle of putting your water skin away when you see the others starting to wake. The sun creeps over the horizon.

Wild and Warriors both stir first, shifting and mumbling.

Twilight isn't far behind.

Sky, Wind, and Hyrule still seem pretty out of it.

Four, Time, and Legend seem to be sleeping but not far from stirring.

You let yourself relax, there isn't danger now only your boys.

"Whas'i'?" Twilight gasps as he jerks awake.

Warriors just groans into his pillow before he sits up and wipes at his face.

Wild yawns into his own pillow before rolling out of bed and pushing to his feet.

"Good morning," you call gently.

All three sets of eyes fall to you quick enough that you worry for their pain.

"You're awake," Warriors breathes out.

"And talking," you offer with a half shrug.

"Ya gave us a hear' 'tack! Wha'd'ya go inta th' dungeon for?" Twilight asks as he pushes to his own feet.

"Hyrule," you say as if that is a full and total explanation.

"Are you okay?" Wild asks.

"Much better now that I'm out of the evil magic temple thing."

"Good. You were in rough shape," Warriors says as he stands and starts walking towards you. "You and Hyrule both."

"I take it you two healed us?"

"We did," Wind says.

"Thank you."

"Ya don't gotta thank us," Twilight says.

"If you say so," you say.

"What happened?" Warriors asks.

"Evil magic dungeons suck is what happened," you shrug before you sigh. "I'll tell you all later. I don't want to tell the story a bunch."

"Of course," Wild says. "We're just glad you're safe."

"Me too," you say.

The three start about their morning routines, and watching them is reassuring.

You aren't alone.

You aren't the sober one.

You aren't stuck.

Twilight starts his patrol.

Warriors works on putting his things up.

Wild starts breakfast, which you could just kiss him for. You're so happy for real food.

Legend wakes with a start and a gasp of your name that has your heart breaking.

You can't find words fats enough.

Legend looks around and seems to be looking for something until his eyes fall on you.

"Morning, Ledge," you call out.

"You're awake," Legend breathes helplessly as his shoulders relax.

"Evil magic dungeons are, in fact, awful. Negative four was not a negative enough rating," you inform him.

Wild snorts at that.

Legend laughs with a tremor you don't point out, "You're telling me."

"If I never see a dungeon again, it'll be too soon."

He laughs a little more, sounding a bit delirious. "You came out alive."

"Yeah, I did."

"Your panther is a menace," he informs you.

You laugh a little. "Yeah..."

Legend comes over to sit by you. His hands shake. "You're okay, right?"

"I'm - yeah. There's uh some stuff to sort out with Hyrule, but I'm okay."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing."

"Then what happened?"

"I - want to talk to Hyrule first, but I'll tell you all after that."

"I - okay. You're both okay, though, right?"

"I... Hyrule is going to be upset... I don't know what exactly he saw and heard, but it seemed hard."

"What about you?"

"I'm just -... heart tired? I don't know. I'll be okay, though."

Legend frowns, raising his hand as if he is going to do something before he glances at it and drops the hand back down. "I'm- sorry. I know dungeons are hard..."

You crack a weak smile, "Just don't make me do that one again?"

"Never. I - we never want you doing that one again. We spoke to the locals about it, and it was run by a fae who feeds on misery."

You swallow.

So the others might have some idea what the dungeon is? Who runs it?

Wait.

Legend said 'I' before he said 'we'.

He is such a sweetheart.

"That makes sense. I didn't know it was misery, but I did meet the fae."

"You did?" Legend asks tightly.

"Mh, not my favorite."

"You didn't give it your name, did you?"

"No," you say firmly. "No, I didn't."

"Good."

There's the sound of someone moving around in their bedroll quite a bit.

You look over and find Hyrule fighting against his blankets with wide eyes.

"Hyrule?" You call out as you stand.

Legend stands up with you.

Hyrule's eyes snap to you, and he makes a miserable sound that tugs at your heart and your soul. It sounds like pure grief.

"Hey," you manage. "Are you... feeling okay?"

"What did you do?" Hyrule asks you with a shaking voice and wide eyes.

You swallow to avoid making any embarrassing sounds of hurt. "Let's... Let's go talk. There's - I want to talk to you about this all first."

"What did you do?" Hyrule asks you again, sounding more upset with each word.

"Let's go talk," you say as you start towards the edge of camp. "I pro- I'll tell you everything."

"Do you want company?" Legend asks.

"No. No, we'll be okay," you say.

Hyrule follows you to the edge of camp on shaky legs, and you try to shove down the mounting dread.

You stop and wait for him.

"What did you do?" Hyrule asks you a third time, voice weak and eyes searching. He sounds desperate to get an answer.

You don't blame him.

"I really messed up," you say as calmly as you can. "So much actually, and I owe you so many apologies. What do you remember? I'll tell you anything! I just - I don't know how much you know."

"Not... Not much. You knocked me out? And uh - I was hearing a dead person..." Hyrule swallows as he looks anywhere but you.

You wince, "Yeah... yeah, that makes sense."

"What happened?"

"Just - don't -... Let me explain it all before you freak out?" You ask.

You are sure he's going to be upset. You can't blame him for it wither.

"I'll... try."

"Okay," you say as you take a deep breath. "Okay... so I'm not sure about all the magic stuff, but you were acting weird around the temple even before you went in."

"I... felt weird... floaty almost."

"Well, come to find out there's a fae who runs the dungeon that feeds on misery? Anyway, you were in some weird trance? You went into the dungeon after Four and Wild left, and I followed you in because you were really out of it."

Hyrule frowns as he looks at you. "You followed me in?"

"Yeah, well, the door disappeared, and you kept floating away? I found out later that the fae that runs the place was... controlling you? I'm not sure how exactly but some sort of magic. You were hearing a voice that wasn't there."

"Yeah.... I - yeah."

"I had a faint voice I heard too? I dunno, dosen’t matter right now. Anyway, the whole place was a death trap. Tricks and boobytraps everywhere. You weren't aware of anything but whatever voice you were hearing for most of it."

"Oh."

"Anyway, after however long, I got you to sit down. You became just lucid enough to tell me not to trust my ears and then fell asleep. I met the fae who runs the place, and they told me they were controlled you and said we'd face a test?" You sigh, unsure how exactly to explain everything but doing your best to just power through.

"Oh no..."

"Yeah. Well then, I uh- I accidentally made you a Promise?"

"What?!" Hyrule demands with a high and tight voice.

"I know! I know I said I wouldn't! I didn't mean to! But I did because that's just - I did."

"Why would you do that?!"

"I just told you I didn't mean to," you say quickly. "But uh - there's more?"

"Fine," Hyrule sighs heavily. "What else?"

"So after our break where I also took a bit of a nap, we kept going. There were more death traps, but we finally get to the last room where the fae is, and she says we can leave, but you're so out of it, you say you want to stay."

"That's not all, is it?" Hyrule asks you tightly.

"No... I say they can not have you - and it's a whole thing. Anyway, they offer me a deal -"

"Tell me you didn't," Hyrule says tightly. He looks ready to be sick.

"They said if I could get you out in an hour, we would both be free."

"Are you telling me you made a deal with a strange and malicious fae?" He draws with a tone that asks if you're serious even without the words.

"That's not even the end of it," you sigh heavily.

"What else could there be?"

You wince, "So I take the deal, and you are still being controlled, and you don't want to come with me. I couldn't realistically drag you out while you were awake and controlled, so I uhm... knocked you out?"

"What?" He blinks.

"I uh - I knocked you out. I know I shouldn't have, but I didn't know what else to do! And I understand if you're mad and I'm sorry..."

"Is that everything?"

"Well, after I knocked you out, I then dragged you? But uh, we're free?"

Hyrule takes a deep, shaking breath. He clenches his jaw a few times and pins you with his stare.

"I don't even know where to start," he says lowly.

You swallow thickly, pushing down the urge to run.

He deserves to say his piece.

-------

"I don't even know where to start," Hyrule says lowly.

His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Anger, affection, fear, pride, grief, and doubt all swirl like a horrible natural disaster.

You stand there before him looking torn between fleeing and staying.

"I really am sorry. I know pretty much all of what I did was the wrong choice," you say as you try to shoulder responsibility.

For a moment, Hyrule wants to damn you because you took him from the place he could have seen his honeybee one last time.

He knows that's ridiculous, though. He wouldn't have really seen them, and he would be dead now.

"You said you wouldn't make me Promises," Hyrule says as evenly as he can even though he wants to kick and scream and fight.

"I know," you say softly.

"You shouldn't ever make a deal with a strange and malicious fae," he informs you tightly.

"I... What else was I supposed to do?" You ask him, looking as if you truly want an answer.

"Anything else!" Hyrule snaps.

You flinch at that, and he can't decide if he's guilty or vindicated.

"I... really couldn't. That's not who I am and... the Promise I made you was to get us both out alive," you admit.

Hyrule closes his eyes, tips his head back, and lets out a heavy sigh. "You really made a mess with that."

"Yeah..."

"You knocked me out," he says as he opens his eyes to stare up at the clouds.

"I did... I didn't know what else to do."

"That's probably the best thing you could have done at that point... just - don't do that again."

"Okay."

"No more Promises, either."

"Okay," you say.

Hyrule just sighs as he looks to you, "I can't believe you. That - everything you did was -!"

He stops and takes another deep breath.

You are stubborn, apparently, and a magnet for danger.

The only other person who could have gotten themselves into the situation you did would have to be his honeybee.

As he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, Hyrule lets his magic take stock of the faint bond the Promise leaves behind and stops.

Oh.

He's been a fool.

Your magic is there, and it still feels achingly familiar.

It feels familiar because it is.

Only his honeybee would get themselves into such a dangerous and frankly ridiculous situation.

Only Hyrule's honeybee would befriend a panther.

He needs to do something.

He needs to say something.

He needs to hug you.

He needs to demand what you were thinking.

He needs to sort out the root of the feelings around the dungeon and your actions.

Hyrule is still so incredibly wound up, and he doesn't think he can say much that isn't going to be damaging.

"I'm going to get some air. The others are going to have questions, you can answer them or not," Hyrule says as calmly as he can.

His hands shake.

"Do you want them to know?" You ask him.

"I - they can. I just - I need space. I have to process everything."

"Okay..." You say.

Hyrule nods before he goes into the trees.

He just needs to walk it off.

That's all.

His frame shakes as he walks.

The ambient nature magic should be enough to drown out the faint bond of your Promise.

It isn't.

Hyrule's feels that literally magic bond like a lifeline at sea.

The foliage around him blurs. It isn't important to him right now.

Hyrule's can't name what he feels for all the gold in all the worlds.

But, oh, does he feel.

He feels so much.

Good.

Bad.

All of it.

His emotions are all the emotions.

Hyrule isn't sure what he is even upset about.

He knows he's happy to know that his honeybee is back in his life in some way.

He knows he's hurt that you are on a lifetime where you don't know him.

He knows he's got a lot of feelings around you making a Promise after saying you wouldn't.

Hyrule knows he has feelings about you dragging him from the proverbial lion's den.

He just needs space to think.

That's all.

-------

Wild isn't really sure what you're going to tell them, but he's pretty sure it's not going to be pretty. It's after a tense discussion that has Hyrule in the woods that you gather everyone together to talk.

Legend and Warriors sit on your left with Wind and Spooky on your right.

Wild sits with Twilight and Four.

Sky and Time si to the left.

"So first, I want to say thanks for healing Hyrule and I... it was a rough, however long in the dungeon," you say with a voice that only shakes a little.

"Fourty five hours, thirteen minutes, and three seconds," Time says as if on autopilot.

You wince, "yikes."

"Why would you go in?" Wild asks, "I don't get it. Hyrule was hurt, and you were against the idea."

You look at him, and for a moment, you look as if you take offense, but then you sigh.

"I didn't want to go in, Hyrule was really out of it, and he went in first, so I went after him. It... didn't get better from there," you say as you look around.

"Wait - Hyrule went in?" Legend asks with mounting horror.

"It's not his fault?" You offer weakly.

"What do you mean?" Time asks slowly, as if he isn't sure he wants to hear the answer.

Wild dosen’t blame him.

"Mind control magic? I don't understand it all, but the fae who runs the place made him experience things and lose touch with reality?"

"Tha' ain't righ'," Twilight says lowly, as if he wants to growl. "Only a yell'a bellied cow'ad hasta sink down t' mind control."

Wild takes a slow breath. He dosen’t understand magic as well as others, but to be controlled like that sounds cruel.

"Yeah, well... I went in after him, and then the door shut and disappeared. The whole place was a death trap, boobytrapped to hell and back," you explain with something between anger and horror.

Wild wants to hand you a warm drink and shield you from the rest of the world. You've already done so much.

"What else?" Warriors prompts.

"The longer we were in there, the worse the mind control got," you say with a slow breath out. It's an obvious attempt to stay calm. "Hyrule wasn't aware of any danger? I kept pulling him out of harm's way. He's a lot harder to pull away from a goal that I thought he would be, by the way. He's strong!"

You give a little laugh that makes Wild's heart cracks into pieces.

"That sounds awful," Sky frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Did you beat the fae?" Wind asks excitedly.

Four just listens, offering you a silent nod. He seems to be reassuring you as if he already knows.

Wild supposes the blacksmith might.

"I'm much better now. Hyrule isn't being controlled anymore. I didn't exactly beat the fae so much as... get lucky my mistakes worked in my favor."

"What does that mean?" Legend asks you.

"You didn't give your name, did you?" Time asks tightly.

"No. No, I uh, did some other things."

"What did you do?" Warriors asks.

"It don't matt'a, ya made it ou'," Twilight tries.

"Well, I Promised Hyrule I'd get us both out alive, and you know, I like to keep my word," you say.

Wild thinks it's a tactful way to dodge around the magical and dangerous aspects.

"Oh shit," Legend hisses.

"Well, yeah. Heard whispers that I couldn't make out. That was no fun. Anyway, after Hyrule took a nap and I met the fae the first time, we eventually get to the last room, and it's a mess."

"First time?" Sky asks with mounting tension.

Wild does not like any of these implications.

"Yeah? They admitted to controlling Hyrule and said we'd face a test? Anyway, they left. We make it to the final room, and the fae is there again, and they say we can leave if we want. Hyrule didn't want to..."

"Please tell me you sucker punched the fae," Wind grins.

"Uh... no? I tell the fae they can't keep Hyrule, and it's a whole thing. So they offer me a deal for some reason -"

"Tell me you didn't take the deal from a strange and malicious fae," Warriors says as he burrows his face in his hands. "For the love of everything, please."

You wince again, and Wild thinks he's going to have a heart attack.

"Wars..." Four tries.

"I took the deal?"

"What was the deal?" Time asks with a sigh.

"If I could get Hyrule out in an hour, we'd both be free. I take the deal, right? Hyrule... dosen’t want to come with me even after I asked a few times... So I knocked him out a little bit?" You say as you look pointedly at your hands.

"A little bit?" Wild asks weakly.

"A lot?" You correct. "I talked to him about that already! But uh... yeah. Then I dragged Hyrule out, and uh heard you guys? I think I fell on someone?" You wound far less sure about everything after dragging Hyrule out.

"Well... we're just glad you made it out," Wild says in what he hopes is a calm and reassuring voice.

"Me too," you laugh weakly.

Wild swallows the urge to pull you into his arms. You have no reason to want that from him.

"We shouldn't have left you there," Wild says softly.

You give him a soft, sympathetic smile, "It would have taken anyone with grief."

"It didn't take you," Legend says softer.

"It tried," you say softer as well, "it really really tried."

"But you're here. That's what counts," Wind says as he hugs you from wher ehe is beside you.

You smile weakly, hugging the kid back. "Thanks."

"I still can't believe you knocked Hyrule out," Wild admits.

The idea of you doing that is... wrong.

Some of it is probably your similarities to his firefly. Some of it is just how you've been acting since you met.

You have been friendly, but not mean.

"I... yeah," you say, letting go of Wind. "Me neither."

"Would you do it again?" Legend asks you.

"What?"

"Now that you're out, would you knock someone out again?"

"Uh, no? Not unless I'm the one performing surgery? Please never make me perform surgery. That would be a horrible plan, actually," you start to ramble, horror dawning on your face.

"No one expects you to do surgery," Time finally cuts in. "We will be discussing why, exactly you knocked Hyrule and and whether or not you can handle situations like that again."

Wild winces in sympathy. That's a nice way of Time saying 'I'm not sure I trust you'.

You look ready to be sick, but you nod. "Okay."

"We're just glad you're okay, and that talk can wait until after we get to town and have time to process," Warriors cuts in as he gives the oldest a dirty look.

Wild... isn't sure what to make of that.

Usually, warriors and Legend are the more weary group members, but... they seem to be protecting you?

Weird...

Did you... do something to them?

Wild pushes that thought from his head. He has no proof, and he's just tired.

He can keep an eye on things, but none of your behavior indicates any malicious motives.

"If that's what you think needs to happen," Time says stiffly.

Wild hopes Time takes it easy on you.

"Someone should go check on Hyrule," Four says with a sigh.

"I can," Legend says quickly. "I'm sure he -

"If you're checking on him, you should know he's pretty upset," you say from where you are.

"I bet he is," Sky frowns as he looks you over.

"He does know what happened, dosen’t he?" Time asks you with a heavy gaze.

"I told him. I - Hyrule deserves to know. He just, you know, wasn't thrilled?" You offer with a weak shrug.

Wild offers a weak smile. "It's going to be okay. He just... needs time."

"I'm not saying otherwise," you say softly. "I'm just saying if anyone is going to check on him, they should know he's upset."

Wild decides that tears it.

You aren't malicious.

You just got handed a bad hand of cards during the dungeon, and you did your best.

"I'll meet the rest of you in town, I'll bring Hyrule when I do," Time says as he looks around the group. "I think we all need some rest."

Wild nods, starting to pack up.

"I'll see you all there," Time says.

-------

Next - wip

Tag list: @danyzta @vrsin @silver-the-pendejo @tulip-does-stuff @justanotherweeb666 @yourlocaltreesimp @blueberrysungie @victoryssong23 @shu-leepy @sleepifonlyigoti @sour-patch-delight @phlying-squirrel @pumpkincitrus @krys0210 @theregoeskittykat @fuckingfaraway @doodle-with-rhy @luxreader @chaos-inperson @justacommonwriter @time-shardz @ships-lover @theforgottenheros @clementine0068 @sinbehavior @maraigh-me @tialovesyoutoo @parvanovel

#misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu written in the stars (forever on loop) au #lu written in the stars au #written in the stars au

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fayelero · 2 days ago

Text

ⓘ 03. SUCH A PERV !

⤷ SMUT ﹫ bachira meguru x fem!reader ﹫ mdni ﹫ perv!bachira

⚠︎ highly suggestive, mention of sex, perverted meguru .ᐟ.ᐟ

From the beginning, you knew.

There was no moment of revelation, no grand shock that made you realize the truth. You didn’t stumble upon secret files on his phone or catch him ogling other girls. No — you knew because you had to. Because being Meguru Bachira’s girlfriend meant living on the edge of two worlds: the one where he danced around like a sunbeam, all smiles and innocence and weirdly philosophical soccer metaphors… and the one where he made sure your thighs stayed bruised from his grip every night.

To the rest of the world — his teammates, his fans, even your friends — he was pure. Kind, quirky, lovable. A golden retriever with insane footwork.

But you?

You were the only one who’d ever heard the way his voice dropped an octave when the lights went out. The only one who knew the meaning behind the way his hand would rest innocently on your lower back, only to slide just a little too low when no one was looking. The only one who’d ever been cornered by him in a locker room, with sweat still dripping down his chest, his eyes wild with adrenaline and something darker.

Bachira didn’t act like an angel.

He was one.

Just one with a filthy mind and no filter when it came to you.

⸻

It started small. Little things. His text messages, teasing in ways that only you would catch. Compliments that sounded sweet on the surface but had claws under them.

“Miss you. Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked in that skirt. Especially when you bent over in the kitchen. Dangerous, baby.”

Or the way he’d “accidentally” brush his hand over your chest when hugging you from behind. The way he’d squeeze your inner thigh under the table during a group dinner like he was testing just how still you could sit.

Then it escalated.

One night, you came home to him already sprawled out on your bed — no shirt, sweatpants riding low on his hips, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“I was thinking about you during practice,” he said, voice lazy, “and I got… distracted.”

His eyes dropped to his lap. He wasn’t hiding anything.

You’d barely dropped your bag when he pounced, hands grabbing your hips with a hunger that made your legs weak. His kisses were deep, messy, possessive. Not romantic. He wasn’t whispering sweet nothings — he was murmuring exactly what he wanted to do to you. Things that would make your face burn if anyone else ever heard.

And the worst part?

He said it all with that same smile.

The same boyish grin that made his teammates think he was harmless. The same stupid sparkle in his eyes that masked the fact that his hand was already under your shirt, tugging your bra aside like he’d done it a thousand times before — because he had.

“I bet you’re already wet, huh?” he whispered against your neck, breath hot, teeth grazing skin. “Just from hearing me talk.”

You shoved at his chest, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

“You’re such a perv.”

He tilted his head, licking his lips slowly as his fingers slid into your waistband.

“I know,” he said shamelessly, “but I’m your perv.”

⸻

Sometimes, you wondered how his friends didn’t know. Surely, someone had to have seen the way his eyes darkened when you walked into a room. The way his attention zeroed in on you like a predator spotting prey. But Bachira had a gift — he played the fool too well. No one ever looked twice.

Except you.

You’d learned him. Memorized every inch of that split personality. Sweet on the outside, sinful underneath. A dirty mouth paired with angel eyes.

And you’d stopped trying to figure out how he got that way.

Because really, you didn’t mind.

Not when his hands made your skin light up like fire. Not when his voice dipped into a low growl, pulling confessions from your lips without even touching you. Not when he had you writhing beneath him, pinned down by a body that moved just as fluidly off the field as on it.

And especially not when he looked down at you with that same playful grin — eyes dark with lust, voice dripping with mischief — and whispered:

“You knew what you were signing up for, babe.”

And damn it, you did.

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batskulldrag · 2 days ago

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“You’re what!?” You and the spell castor both exclaim.

“Insane. On a technicality.” Jax slides himself up and brushes off his pants.

You look between the two. Jax, as always, has a stupid smile plastered across his face. And Marcus, the idiot who just shot him with what is only ever referred to as the Lovecraft Spell, is cemented in place with his mouth agape.

“What technicality could possibly make you insane?” Marcus shrieks.

“You.” Jax points at him. “I’m ignoring. Where do you get off flinging insanity spells at every boy who makes pathetic cow eyes at your ex? Grow up.”

“You’re not insane.” You argue.

“You may just be the first person who ever said that to me.” Jax laughs.

“I demand to know how the spell had no affect on you!” Marcus steps forward.

“I told you, I’m already insane.” Jax scoffed.

“No, you’re not!”

“Do you mind calling up my dad and telling him that?” Jax rolled his eyes. “What exactly do you think insane means?”

“A raving lunatic! You should be trying to eat your own hands and mauling sheep! You should be screaming in horror at the sight of a butterfly! Or trying to convince people what the fourth dimension looks like.” Marcus did a bit of raving himself.

“Good god. And you were gonna hit me with that?” Jax cringed.

“I wasn’t aiming at you, you got in the way!”

“Cool, be a better shot. I’m going home.” Jax started walking away.

“What do you mean you’re insane?” You ask, baffled by Jax’s nonchalance.

“Look.” Jax sighed. “It all comes down to semantics. Einstein defined insanity as ‘doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result’. So, by that logic, lots of people are insane. Like anyone who thinks the two-party system is working.”

Today was not the day you would question what Jax meant by that.

“You mean to tell us that the spell didn’t work because of Einstein?” You feel a migraine developing.

“Well, yeah. Since insanity has been defined in tangible terms, plenty of people fall into that category. People are legally insane if they’re so mentally out of it that they don’t realize that they committed a crime. Clinically insane…”

“You were institutionalized.” You cut him off. “Clinically insane.”

“Finally, something good comes from my slippy sock vacation.” He grins.

“I refuse to believe it’s that simple.” Marcus stomps his foot.

“Wording and semantics do influence magic all the time.” You consider. “That’s why whishing spells, genies and prophesies are so much trouble.”

“This spell was written long before insanity was defined!” Marcus argues.

“And most of my friends can kill MacBeth, on account of not being a man of woman born.” Jax yawned.

“We’ve lived in fear of this spell for years, and now you tell me that it only has three outcomes!”

“It’s named after a writer from the nineteen hundreds; how old could it possibly be?” You argue.

“Nostalgia used to be considered a mental illness.” Jax added. “Frankly, I don’t think that an insanity spell would have any use.”

“I’m leaving.” You announce as you walk away.

“I’ll come with you.” Jax follows. “Yo Marcus, I’ll call you if I start feeling more depressed than normal!”

Once Marcus is well out of earshot you glance at Jax.

“What does cow eyes mean?” You ask.

“That stupid, sappy look you give someone you have a crush on.” Jax looks at the ground.

“Why is this how I’m finding out?” You grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

“In my defense, I was going to tell you, but then your petty ex started mind fucking people.” Jax held up his hands.

“Lord you’re stupid!” You release him.

“I can back off if you want me to.” Jax offered.

“Jax, I have one thing to say to you!” You poke him in the chest for emphasis.

“Yeah?” He looks hopeful, terrified and confused.

“That spell probably won’t work on me either.” You say quickly.

And then you pull him in for a kiss.

And you kiss him for a long time, because you know he’s going to say something silly after. Just like he always does when he’s flustered. And you feel your body tingling with excitement at the thought of whatever stupid thing he’s going to say.

You wonder what it means when you keep doing the same thing over and over again, hoping to get the same result.

"No... impossible! That spell should have driven you insane!" "Buddy, lookie here. I AM insane."

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ptej1980 · 23 hours ago

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Same same but different…

We know the story….we have seen the plot but why does it feel just a little bit different.

The Lukola crew have come to expect a certain pattern of SM activities, picture drops, sightings ect, coordinated over the last 12 months. However what we have scene over the last few weeks, although seemingly coordinated seems different.

Starting with the hollowing out as Fia calls it, the pic of Nic and Luke in Adelaide…but leaving it so ambiguous to keep you guessing. Random water pics from Cyprus, no time stamps. A forlorn sad JD in gym saying how much he missing his friends…

There is no interaction between Lukola and the adjacent’s over the last few weeks except Nic liking a couple of posts and 1 friendly comment about a moustache. And a lot of insinuating of the 🐜 of Cyprus 🤮

No telling exactly where in the world Nic and Luke are just that they are quiet and missing ( although not new for Luke lol).

Out of the blue or perfectly timed…I mean you decide, Luke archives 30 posts and changes his PFP. It sends some of the fandom into a spiral….but the good things about this is change. His PFP is from his iconic photo shoot with Nic in NY from the WT. He chose, that specific pic. Also 12 out of the 30 posts have Nic in them. It means a change is coming…a big announcement….a new project in work as well as life.

Less than 1 day after this Nic post what we call Chaos week V3…with 3 stories 1.sweet treat - Luke coded 2. Pic with thumbs up and side of head selfie ( clearly Luke) 3 song that you could relate to Lukola. Chronically online Nic knows what we know. It was done with purpose. This is why everytime she wears her ring 💍 out there it is a massive sign. She knows what we believe about the ring, so the original finger slip like of the engagement ring post of Yagirlmia was no accident.

Then to just by accident find a stroller pic of her..Baby Newts and crew it seems strategic. This pic and her stories are now floating around x with the majority now linking Lukola….like I said same same but different.

The drop of the restaurant pic….whether it was misdirection for travel cover, 🐜 team dropping it for clout because they could who knows, but everyone seems to see it as an old pic (which it clearly is). And as the same tired story, and no one cares about it.

What I can say is that over the last few days the subfandom’s (Jakola’s and Antlukes) have been very quiet. Usually when Lukola positive posts float around X you get some bite back , but I have not seen or head a peep.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next but I am feeling positive…but let’s just be real I have always been positive 😉. I am feeling excited and optimistic that our faves will soon be free to share their joy. I can not wait to see happy Lukola again.

💛🐝

#happily waiting and watching #all in time time will reveal #adjacents out

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ddorizrem · 1 day ago

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backflips in a restaurant | mark lee

006: 12065 — heart sank to my stomach

you giggled at the sight of your friends’ outburst of tweets before putting your phone down to face the man of the hour. mark lee. there he was just eating his ice cream in front of you, it was adorable really.

noticing your stare at him, he smiled, “what’s funny yn?” he asked before he went back to eating his ice cream

taking a lick of your own ice cream, you let out another smile, “nothing just my friends being stupid on my tweet,”

you two sat there in comfortable silence as you ate your ice creams before mark cleared his throat, “listen yn, i’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” he spoke nervously

at this moment, you swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach. is this the moment you’ve been nervously anticipating? was it really all good to be true? your eyes widened and looked at mark, “um, yeah what’s up?” you responded with the same amount of nervousness in your system

mark put his ice cream down in the cup you had gotten for the two of you and gave you his undivided attention, “i don’t know how to exactly word it but i really do want you to know i enjoy spending time with you and i don’t know about you but, i really like us and where this is going,” he said with a smile at the end before looking up directly into your eyes, “but before we get any deeper into whatever ‘we’ might be i want to be honest with you,”

you put your ice cream down in the cup next to his and put your hand over mark’s twiddling thumbs, “of course mark, i want you to know i also like us and where this is going,”

reciprocating your move, mark decides to fully hold onto your hand, making you feel butterflies in your stomach, “it’s nothing bad i promise unless it’s bad to you then i’ll feel really bad but i hope you know i don’t want it to be bad,” he rambled before finally focusing on what he was gonna say, “as you know i am a music major, and i kinda have that semi successful youtube thing going on,”

you nodded as you rubbed your thumb on his hand to ease his nervousness, “well a couple weeks ago i got this offer to do this internship to produce, and it’s really amazing one of my biggest rolemodels got me this opportunity and the school was actually shocked anyone was able to acquire the internship,” he added

“oh my goodness mark that’s amazing! i’m so proud of you,” you responded

mark smiled at you, “thank you yn, it means a lot, but i should probably get to the bad part of the news,” he spoke softly, “um well, the internship is in new york, and i leave in a couple of days,”

oh. that’s why your heart sunk to your stomach

he saw the look in your face and grabbed your hands closer to him, “yn, i’m sorry but that’s why i wanted to be honest with you and say it now. i really enjoy spending time with you and i want to see where this goes. i want to pursue you but i want to leave this choice to you. it’s not fair that i have to be across the world for 10 weeks right before i meet the most amazing girl in my life,”

“when you say leave this choice to me, what do you mean by that?” you asked

“well personally, i don’t want to loose the connection we have and i really enjoy spending time with you. regardless of in person or not i want to make what we have work so i don’t mind the distance. but also if you want to just wait for me to come back and see if we still have that connection when we pick up from there, i’m also down for that,” mark replied while rubbing his thumb on your hand

you stare up at him and let out a sad smile, “i really appreciate your honesty mark, how about we just spend the rest of the day together and see how this goes? i’ll give you my answer soon i promise,”

mark smiled at you in return, taking in your beauty, “yeah of course yn, i’d wait forever for you,”

masterlist | previous | next

authors note: IM SORRYY GUYSSS this song is one of the most beautiful heart wrenching songs about yearning so chapter had to reflect </3 let me know if u guys think yn will decide to keep up the connection with mark or will she wait till he’s back in person?

taglist: @jaellymint @iluv7tn @nctdreamchaser @bbykaixx @nctubatu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @kittydollzz @worldwidecutiemaya @naeviscalled @wdwbts101 @remgeolli @nosungluv @n9vacane @markleesleftpinky @kookssecret @haesluvr @rubiiisyeon @desssss-0 @njmluvr @kooookie @thealchemy89 @markzmelons @peterm4rker @stormy1408 @brachioswrld

#mark lee x reader #mark lee x reader smau #nct dream #nct dream x reader #mark lee smau #nct dream smau #kpop #mark lee #mark lee imagines #nct dream x reader smau #mark lee fluff #nct smau #nctdream #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct fanfic

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lethroe-radicalised · 2 days ago

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Alr so I had some sleep and now have more energy to deal with this.

Your first like is an article by ynetnews which is an Israeli based news source owned by the over company Yefioth Ahronoth. "Yedioth Ahronoth is an Israeli daily mass market newspaper published in Tel Aviv."

"According to a 2018 study published by Oxford University Press, Ynet publishes articles and interviews at the instigation of the Israeli government, without declaring any connection with the government – these publications aim to stir up pro-Israeli sentiment."

So its biased. Plus the article never says its true it only says what Israel claims. And Israel has never lied about anything regarding the war, right?

So they have a reason to starve them. They justify starving them.

But lets go back to your sources. You have ynetnews which we've already come to the conclusion is biased, theres AJC which has been in support of Israel for a long time so it therefore biased on the topic of the war, and your last one, AIJAC, is biased because it is a pro Israel source. So lets work with your claims directly now.

"Hamas is the one that attacks the aid centers."

"Millions of tonnes of aid has entered gaza"

Firstly it doesn't exactly matter if it enters when IOF soldiers have filmed themselves burning food aid trucks and bombing or shooting people working to distribute aid / get aid.

Israel blocking aid is well known. I don't know if youre victim to controlled mass media (a sign of fascism) or if you are a denialist.

This video shows aid distributors getting killed. You can argue whatever you want but it dont think Hamas, which has no militant aid unlike Israel, would waste ammunition and drones on such a thing. It wouldnt be good in terms of tactics.

And then UN isnt the only one administering aid and have no responsibility to count the aid of other trucks heading in. But the issue is that theyre still being blocked and then destroyed once inside.

"Attacking you and kidnapping your people."

You mean since Oct 7th? This has been going on since way before that. It started 1948 at least on paper. Let's talk about before Oct 7th.

Notice with this list started before Oct 7th, the majority of deaths were Palestinians and the majority of deaths were done by the IOF. Now when we look at the list of massacre in Israel, most of the death toll started on Oct 7th by Hamas.

So how does this help my point? The IOF has been enacting attacks on Palestine for a long time. The IOF is an organised group. Until Hamas first attacked in 1994, there were no repetition in organised massacres. It was not a consistent force. My point is that Palestine has been a punching bag for a very long time in the name of Zionism.

No, planning to invade and kidnapping is not genocide. What is genocide is planning to flatten, mass migrate, and mass kill Palestine for ages which is what is suggested by taking that land. Since the beginning it has been acknowledged that the plan was to take the land and remove Palestinians. I refer back to my previous quotes.

Ireland wants to change the definition so that there is no continued excuse. Killing a group (ideology, ethnicity nationality, etc) of people in mass is genocide. Just bc its not in the same form as the Holocaust, which was horrific, doesn't mean its not genocide.

"Less than 2% of the population has been killed despite Israel destroying 80% of the infrastructure."

Is that supposed to be tolerable? Thats still 55,637 since Oct 7th. This doesn't include those under the rubble. This doesn't include the people that will starve to death tonight. This is not a tolerable number. So I dont know your point.

Lastly, about your "warnings" Israel gives.

Im probably not going to reply after this bc its more effort than im willing to do regularly.

Reminder that Zionism is not the belief of all Jews

Reminder that Zionism does not equate to Jews

Reminder that Israel is not a representation of Jews

Reminder that Zionism is fascism

And since Israel’s actions align with Zionism

Israel is a fascist occupational state and stating such is not antisemitic

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heartbreakgirl67 · 1 day ago

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So Much More.

summary: after kissing and revealing your feelings, you and bucky started to avoid each other. but, when the both of you get put into a mission that had the other worrying, those feelings start resurfacing again.

pairing: congressman!Bucky x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

content: banter, tension, angst, soft bucky, marriage of convenience, (used to be) enemies to lovers, brief mentions of childhood trauma, oblivious fools in love, protective bucky, protective reader, she looks at him like he hung the moon, he looks at her like she hung the moon

a/n: this is kind of a p2 to this but can be read on its own. someone asked me for a p2 that i wasn't planning on doing so this is it. hope you enjoy it!!!

@starstruckfirecat

You haven’t spoken.

For two weeks, five days, ten hours, and 54 minutes, you haven’t spoken with him.

But who’s counting, right?

Since the kiss, since the confession, not once did you both utter a single word to each other. You were hoping that he would have forgotten what had happened the night before, but when you woke up to an empty bed the next morning, you knew he remembered. And you knew he didn’t mean it.

But now you were both back where you started–in Congressman Gary’s office, in creaky wooden chairs, side by side. Except this time, it was silent. Eerily silent.

The congressman felt uneasiness crawling all over his skin, not used to the room being this quiet when the both of you were in each other’s presence. Usually it was loud, full of vulgarities and fallacious remarks about the other—and he oddly preferred that, missed it, even.

“Alright,” Gary uttered, taking the glasses off his face and wiping it with a small thin rag lying on the table, “I’m not exactly sure what happened here,” he directed his glasses between the both of you, “and I’m honestly not sure if I even want to know–”

“You don’t,” both you and Bucky muttered in unison.

Gary paused. “Right. Anyway, I need you to push that aside because you have a mission, which requires the both of you to work together.”

“Are you serious?”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“I cannot work with…him.”

“She is insufferable.”

You gasped. “I am not! You seriously cannot be talking here, Barnes.”

“Well I am, ‘cause I’m right.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“You, um–you just are.”

“Wow, real mature. How the fuck you managed to become a congressman is beyond me,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I heard that.”

“Good. I wanted you to.”

He shifted in his seat to glare at you and you felt time stop. The first time you’ve actually looked at each other in a while. The words suddenly got stuck in the back of your throat, leaving your lips parted and mouth dry. Bucky paused as well, his body frozen and tense, as his eyes stayed glued to yours.

You averted your gaze to Gary, who for some reason had a small smile plastered on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed, “What’s so funny, congressman?”

Bucky turned to face him as well, wondering the same thing. Gary’s smile grew wider as he stood up, the chair screeching against the tiles. He placed his glasses on his face and walked towards the door. “Your mission is next week. I’ll email you the details later. See you, lovebirds!” and the door slams shut.

~~~

“I swear, I’m going to leave without you if you’re not here in the next five seconds!”

“As if. You need me,” you screamed back from your room. You lost it, again. The little gold bracelet. You were trying really hard to stay calm but as the clock ticked further away into the night, you found yourself unraveling.

“I have a metal arm. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you seem to have that for a brain too,” you retorted quietly.

“I heard that. What are you even doing?” you heard Bucky’s voice float into the room as his boots thudded through.

“I lost the…something,” you came out of the bathroom, going to rummage through your drawers for the seventh time.

Recognition flashed in his eyes. He walks over to you and grabs your shoulders to get your attention.

“Wait, just give me a second!” you tried to turn away but he pulled you back. He slowly lifts his gloved hand before putting it into his pocket, slowly pulling out the bracelet.

“You–” you reach out to grab it but he puts it out of your reach. You look at him exasperatedly, eyes begging him to just give it to you.

Bucky grabs your hand, clasping it back on for you, pressing the clasp slightly harder than you usually would to tighten it. “There. Now you won’t lose it.”

You didn’t answer, your hand playing with the band as you looked away from him, not really knowing what to say.

The tips of your fingers stayed in his grasp, like neither of you wanted to pull away. “You know,” his tone was quiet and soft, “you still never told me why it is so special.”

You pulled your hand away. “We’re late.”

~~~

“In and out, okay?”

“I know, Barnes. I’m not five.”

“Well, you never know how to follow instructions.”

You loaded your gun. “That’s ‘cause your instructions suck.”

Pulling up the mask that covered the bottom half of your face, you walked past him, going into the compound, but you only managed three steps before Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you back. “Why are you–”

“Behind me.” He pushes you behind him as he leads the way. You tried to slip in front of him a couple of times, but he blocked your move each time.

When the both of you successfully entered the compound, you agreed to split up to find any source of evidence. Anything that could possibly be used against Ms.de Fontaine. “Meet me here in 30 minutes. Nothing more. Understood?” he told you. To which, you waved him off and said, “Yeah, yeah, I know.” an answer he didn’t accept. “Understood?” he repeated, not allowing you to move from the space between him and the wall. You then proceeded to nod, and a quiet “I understand.” was said.

You dug through the stacks of papers scattered on the various sleek metal tables that were all over the room. Nothing.

It was like every scrap of possible evidence was removed and burnt off the face of the earth. You continued digging around anyway until you came across something that made you stop in your tracks–a crumpled black and white picture lying on top of a brown file.

It was a photo of Bucky and Steve–pre-serum– and they were mid-laughing, all smiles and teeth. You’ve never seen Bucky smile like that before. You don’t think you’ve even seen him smile before, and the thought of that brought an uncomfortable feeling to simmer in the pit of your stomach. You quickly folded up the photo and stuffed it into your back pocket.

You then picked up the file that was placed under it. It had the name ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ scrawled bright and bold in red on the front. Just as you were going to flip it open, a loud shot came from a couple rooms down.

Bucky.

You quickly swiped the file off the table and ran into its direction. Your mind was spiralling, panic seeping into your pores and flooding your bloodstream, taking up your thoughts bit by bit. All you could hear was nothing. Nothing. Silence.

The second you reached what you thought was the room, you kicked the heavy metal door as hard as you could, and it came crashing down, the loud sound echoing all over the room.

There you saw Bucky on one end and Valentina on the other, and the gun still steadily held in her right hand. You turned to face Bucky–hair strewn all over the place but he seemed perfectly fine. But he was tense, cold eyes burning into yours–angry.

“Well, if it isn’t the other half of my favourite starstruck lovers. And to think that just a second ago your lovely husband was telling me that he came alone,” Valentina said, walking closer to you. Stopping right in front of you, she reached a hand up towards your face.

“Don’t touch her.”

She clicked open your mask, letting it fall to the ground. “Relax. She’s all yours, loverboy.”

Your eyes shifted from Valentina back to Bucky again. He was staring at you–intently–but he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

Valentina’s eyes panned down to what was in your grip. She smiled. “What were you planning to do with that?”

You didn’t answer, just subtly moving it behind you.

Her smile widened. She turned to face Bucky, who was still frozen in his spot. “Aww, look at the two of you, being all so protective of each other, just–” a buzz in her pocket.

She reached into it and pulled out her phone. After staring at it for a couple of seconds, she sighed. “Well, I must get going. Responsibilities and all that,�� she waved her hand, walking past you. She pointed between the both of you, “Adorable, really. Call me when you finally get your evidence, okay?” she added sarcastically, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room.

It was uncomfortably silent for a couple of seconds before Bucky quietly walked past you and out of the room. You chased after him–his large strides making it impossible for you to walk at a normal pace. “I found this file about you,” you said from behind him. He didn’t reply so you continued, “I think…I think that it’s about you during your Hydra days. And maybe even before? Experimentation, trials, history, and stuff like that. I thought m-maybe you would like to know. Or not. It looks old so I thought it could be the original. And that you could–you know, do whatever you’d like with it. Keep it. Burn it. Or something. Whatever you’d like.”

You slowly stopped talking, seeing as if he weren’t listening to a word you were saying. The only sound that was coming from him was the loud stomps of his combat boots against the metal tiles and the faint creak coming from his metal arm.

The whole ride back was silent. You sat at the backseat this time, hoping that if he didn’t see your face, he would feel a little less hatred towards you–that you would be a little less of a burden for him to carry. You’ve never really felt like this in a long time, and especially never with him, despite never getting along. He’s always made you feel like an equal, like every step, every move, and every word that comes from you matters. But this time, movements tense, not talking, and disappointment hanging all over his face, you couldn’t help but let it consume you as it did when you were a child.

So you sat there, with the file held close against your chest, never opening it.

~~~

The apartment door opens with a swing as Bucky speeds through, leaving you to trail behind him.

You shut the door, placing the file on the coffee table, and following him into the kitchen. He had his back to you, gloves removed, flesh and vibranium pressed against the cool granite of the counter. You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you but you didn’t like him angry–especially when it directed to you. He got annoyed at you, yes, but never angry. But even without seeing his face, you could just feel it emitting from him.

“Bucky, I…” you started carefully, not wanting to push the wrong buttons, “I didn’t mean it. Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I–” you paused, noticing the way his shoulders tensed. “I don’t totally get it, but if you’re really unhappy about it, I won’t do it again. I promise. Tell me and you won’t have to worry about it again. Just please–please don’t be mad at me, Bucky.”

“Don’t say that.”

You got startled at the sound of his voice–low, heavy, his.

“W-what?”

He turned to face you. His eyes were red–not from crying, but from tiredness–accentuating the ice blue of his irises. “Don’t say that. Don’t beg me for anything. Don’t make me that important to you.”

Your frown grew deeper. He didn’t want you that much? You meant that little to him?

He saw the look on your face and immediately shook his head. “N-no. No. Not because of you, I promise. It’s me.”

“But you are important. To me.”

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Too bad.”

He didn’t say anything. Just stared. Trying to read you, to see if you were lying–hoping that you were–but all he saw was truth. Laid bare, handed to him, pure and honest truth.

“Why?” he asked, the genuineness in his voice made your heart break. You didn’t like the way he saw himself, but then again, that’s how you noticed him.

You stepped closer to him, head tilting up to meet his eyes. “I don’t need to have a reason, Bucky. I don’t need to have an excuse to have you close to my heart. Because you are, and I want to keep you there forever. Although, I don’t think I’d ever be able to rip you out of it. I’ve tried, I couldn’t, and now I don’t want to. I want you there, stuck, forced to keep it beating till my dying breath. Even if I wasn’t in yours.”

He frowned like that was the most outlandish thing you’ve ever said. “You are.”

You knew he was just trying to not make you feel bad about it so you tried to change the topic. “Why were you mad at me?”

You could tell he knew exactly what you were doing, his eyes said it all, but he decided to let it slide–for now. He sighed, “I wasn’t mad. I could never be mad at you,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground, “I was just…scared, I guess. I told you to meet me in 30 minutes. It had been 32. You weren’t there. And then I saw Valentina, and I freaked. I thought she might have done something to you but then she asked me if you came with me, and I tried to convince her that I came alone. Then she shot the ceiling, knowing that you were going to come. I didn’t. Then you did. And, I don’t know, I hated the idea that you would risk yourself for me like that. But I shouldn’t have treated you like that. To make you think like that,” he looked back up to meet your eyes, “the thought shouldn’t have even crossed your mind. You’re so much more than what you believe you are. So much more.”

You weren’t much for physical touch, and you knew he was worse when it came to it, but almost like it was instinct, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms–tight–around his neck, pulling him flush against you.

Bucky froze, hands hovering over your back–hesitant and scared. Then, slowly, softly, like it wasn’t even there, he held you back. The heat from the fleshed hand penetrated through your clothes, as did the cool of the vibranium of his left hand, making your head spin in a way that made you want to hold him like this. Again. And again. And again. Till your bodies moulded as one and your brains turned to mush.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fanfic #mcu #bucky x female reader #mcu fanfiction #thunderbolts #congressman bucky #congressman barnes #the new avengers

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dotthings · 3 days ago

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It takes an extra level of nerve when the hate from Jared stans continues to escalate, when they've been regularly yelling "where's Jared" on posts that have nothing to do with Sam and Dean or J2 or spn at all, when they've even targeted Jensen's colleagues on some of his new projects with hate because "where's Jared," when they deny Jensen and Misha's friendship, when they won't stop hating on Misha, when they deny Jensen and Danneel's marriage, when they won't stop hating on Danneel, when they have hated on Jensen himself, being weirdly controlling and aggressively hostile against anything they perceive as a threat to "Dean loves Sam ONLY" or "Jensen only likes Jared," that any J2 fan or Jared fan could whine because JenMish fans think they spotted Misha's back in a photo from the Countdown premiere. Or Jensen stans who can't be bothered about the aggressive hate and denialism and obsession from Jared stans try to shade JenMish and Misha fans for saying things anyone with common sense and a brain could comprehend.

Best of luck with that JenMish fans shaming session, hypocrites. You're showing exactly who you are.

Sure, Karens. JenMish fans having a good time is the real menace here.

Yes in fact the person whose back is to the camera does look a lot like Misha to me and it's sweet Misha showed up to support his boo and yes it makes sense he didn't want to make a big thing about it, because JenMish is a popular duo and basic common sense would indicate why this wasn't the moment to make a big thing with JenMish. "But the other cast members posted about being there!"

It's time to stop pretending JenMish isn't an unusually popular duo. It's not the same.

This isn't a diss on any of the rest of the cast or other friendships in the cast. It's just plain old realities. J2 and JenMish are the most popular duos from the show.

I don't know how some Jensen stans who have literally complained about both for years, wanting Jensen away from both Jared and Misha, and who wouldn't want J2 or JenMish to be a focus when it's a Jensen project, somehow cannot comprehend why Misha might attend the premiere yet not post about it and not permit any selfies.

JenMish fans are not the problem here and yet some people sure do keep digging a trench trying to pretend we are.

I'm just sitting with my arms folded looking at the anti-JenMish hypocrites with my eyebrow raised, "you done?"

#dot trolls fandom #the silence about the attacks and denialism about Jensen and Misha's friendship speaks volumes while they attack JenMish fans #and a lot of that is because some Jensen stans hate Misha and hate JenMish every bit as much as the Jared stans they themselves despise

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agentstarkid · 3 days ago

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WHAT THE GODS TRIED TO BURY ✦ 06

✦ WORD COUNT: 7.8k

✦ WARNINGS: language, cussing, angst, a brief appearance of the green monster, self-deprecation and feelings of inadequacy are a soulmate thing ig, brief mention of torture. Proofread but i'm so sure i missed something.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: i'm posting this now because if i read it one more time i'll keep changing things 🫠 i think it was a good idea to split it into two chapters tho—this one has so much emotions woven into it. it's blowing my mind all the love this series is receiving—thank you so much, angels!! 🥹🖤 i really hope you guys like this one,,, if you don't,,, well, fuck.

< previous | series masterlist | next >

Cassian’s mouth fell open. “What the fuck—”

But he stopped himself.

The woman standing in front of the hearth, hood still drawn over her features, was the one who had vanished again after refusing Azriel’s outstretched hand. And at the same time, the one who once dragged him into the kitchens in the middle of the night to steal a pie—and then somehow made him take the blame when Rhys’ mom caught them.

She came home.

Azriel took a single step forward. The shadows that lingered between them stilled—then split down the middle, as if granting him passage.

She didn’t bother lowering her hood. Didn’t need to. The firelight reached beneath it anyway, casting golden arcs across the scars that hadn’t been there two hundred years ago. Eyes gold as ever. A little haunted. A little dangerous.

She didn’t smile.

The tension in the room was suffocating.

The scent of lightning still hung heavy in the room, threaded with scorched cedar and something bitter—like ozone before a storm. Feyre said nothing, her arms tight around Nyx. Rhysand hadn’t moved.

And there she was. The female who had once fought and laughed beside them, who’d whispered war plans with Cassian on balconies and stolen wine with Mor in the library. Who’d told Azriel secrets in the dark.

Now she looked at them like strangers.

Cassian’s stomach twisted.

Ghosts don’t walk, he told himself. Don’t smell like crushed spices and ash and saltwater. But he still stared at her like he was seeing a ghost. Everyday since, he’s been struggling with accepting the knowledge of her being alive.

“No. No way.”

She tilted her head. “Surprised?”

His eyes narrowed. Then widened.

“Wait a damn minute—” His gaze darted to Rhysand, then Azriel, then back to her. “You–You’re the one who—”

“Sent half your soldiers running in circles? Lit up your wards like Solstice lights?” Her lips curved—not into a smile exactly, but something crooked. “Yes. That was me.”

Cassian let out a sound—half a laugh, half a curse. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Gods, she was really here.

Even after she’d sworn she never would be again.

“You really do know how to make a fucking entrance,” he muttered, running a hand through his shoulder-length black hair.

But he didn’t move closer.

Not yet. Not unless she let him.

Because part of him still wanted to grab her and shake her and demand why.

And another part—deep down—was afraid that if he got too close, she’d vanish again.

(And this time, he might not survive it.)

She took a step forward, shadows curling up her back like half-formed wings. Azriel still hadn’t moved. But she felt his gaze—like a hand at her spine. Tracking every breath. Every shift.

Cassian’s arms crossed. Not defensive. Just bracing. “So, what—after all this time, you’re suddenly here to…do what exactly?”

“You said you needed help fighting Koschei,” she said smoothly.

Cassian folded his arms. “So? Why now?”

Her brows lifted beneath the shadow of her hood. “Well, you asked.”

Cassian blinked. “What?”

Her eyes flicked to him. Unbothered. “That’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it? To help you?”

“That was four months ago,” he said, voice low, but sharp enough to cut. “You told us to go fuck ourselves and vanished into the wind, remember?”

“I do. Vividly. And yet, here I am,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “You wanted help against Koschei. Now you have it.”

Cassian laughed—short, humorless. “Forgive me if I’m not falling over with gratitude.”

She raised a brow. “That’s fine. I’m not here for thanks.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Then why are you here?”

A pause. “Strategy.”

“That’s not an answer,” he snapped.

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

His wings shifted behind him, like a reflex. “Why now?” he pressed again. “Why show up now? How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

Her smile was slow and razor-sharp. “You think I’m working for Koschei?”

“I think,” Cassian said carefully, “that the male who raised me like a brother left you to die. And I think I’d be a fool not to ask who you’re really loyal to.”

That landed. Her expression didn’t change, but the air around her sharpened—grew colder, heavier. A faint pressure curled inward, as if the room itself had taken a breath and was holding it. The scent of ozone threaded through the air.

A bead of condensation gathered on the nearest glass.

Her voice was quiet, lethal. “You think I’d put myself in the same room as this asshole for fun?”

Feyre’s grip on Nyx instinctively tightened.

Cassian didn’t flinch, but he didn’t back down, either. “I think I don’t know you anymore.”

A beat of silence. The air loosened—just slightly. The invisible pressure receded, the tension ebbing like the hush after distant thunder.

Then—

“Well,” she said, flicking a hand, “maybe you never did.”

Cassian huffed a bitter breath, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something softer. “That’s not true.”

She tilted her head. “Isn’t it?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then shook his head, muttering, “Gods, you’re still such a pain in the ass.”

That crooked smile ghosted her lips again. “You used to call it charming.”

Cassian gave a snort. “I used to be stupider.”

“Used to be?” she echoed, mock-surprised.

Even Azriel blinked at that, a flicker of something almost like amusement passing through those shadows. Feyre glanced between them, brows lifting slightly. Rhysand remained stone-still, but his gaze was locked on her like he was trying to crack open her skull and see what had changed.

She didn’t give him the satisfaction.

Cassian threw up his hands. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You vanish for two centuries, walk in here like it’s nothing, and the first thing you do is insult me,” he whined.

“Some things never change,” she said airily.

“No,” he agreed, voice quieter now. “Some things don’t.”

The pause that followed didn’t feel like silence. It felt like something fragile being held between them.

It was too easy, the banter.

She saw the moment he realized it too—that despite everything, despite the pain and the betrayal and the impossible distance of time, this rhythm between them was still there.

Still alive. Still theirs.

Cassian looked at her the way someone might look at a memory they thought they’d lost. One that hurt to remember—but hurt even more to forget.

She saw it. Felt it. And something in her cracked, just a little. A flicker of warmth. Of familiarity.

She’d told herself it was gone. That the person she was with him—who she used to be—had died long ago.

But for one blink of a moment, it felt like stepping into the past. Like that old rhythm between them was still there, buried under everything.

Then Feyre shifted Nyx in her arms, and the small noise was enough to snap her back.

Her spine straightened. Her face smoothed over again into something unreadable.

The mask slammed back into place.

She turned back to the fire. “Don’t mistake this for something it’s not. This isn’t a family reunion. It’s a war council. Let’s not confuse the two.”

But Cassian—stupid, soft Cassian—did.

The General’s chest tightened. He nodded once, solemnly. But he couldn’t stop the way his eyes lingered on her face—just for a moment longer.

Because even if she’d shut the door, he’d seen it.

That flicker.

That piece of her—the real her—still buried underneath the bitterness and bone-deep hurt.

And for the first time in two hundred years, it had looked back at him.

Her voice cut through the room, clear and cold. “I'm here because we have a common enemy.”

Cassian’s brows knit. His arms remained crossed, “So what—you figured we were convenient?”

“I decided,” she said, gaze hard as flint, “you were the lesser of two evils. That’s it.”

That landed harder than he expected. His mouth pressed into a line. For once, he didn’t have a snarky comeback.

There was no warmth in her tone. No room for argument or emotion. Just strategy. Cold, clinical. Calculated.

And in that moment, as he stared at her, he saw it. The Commander of the Night Court’s army. His right-hand soldier. The blade-sharp edge of her that had once led thousands into battle without hesitation.

Next to him, there was no motion from Azriel, no flicker of expression. The weight of his stare alone felt like pressure against her ribs. His eyes locked on her—deep, still, assessing. Like he was watching for signs of damage. Or for truth.

She didn’t flinch under the weight of it. But gods, she felt it.

That pull. That old, terrible pull.

Like standing too close to a cliff’s edge and pretending the wind at your back isn’t temptation.

His eyes devoured her—like he was cataloguing every inch. Lingering on the scars. On his shadows that now curled around her shoulders like armor. Like she might disappear again if he blinked.

The silence stretched until footsteps echoed down the hall.

Not heavy ones like Cassian’s. Not the silent, predatory gait she knew belonged to Azriel or Rhysand.

These were lighter. Hesitant.

The door creaked open.

A female stepped through. Her presence was all polished grace and gentle hesitance. There was a kind of stillness about her—like spring dew clinging to a blade.

She paused just over the threshold in a sweep of soft fabric and garden-blushed perfume, her hand still on the doorknob. “I heard voices—”

Her words died when her eyes landed on the hooded female standing before the fire.

The room seemed to shift.

The female’s gaze moved slowly—from Rhysand to Feyre, to the shadows gathered male in the corner. It lingered there a moment too long before flicking back to the stranger at the hearth.

Only… not quite a stranger.

Not with the way a few of Azriel’s shadows were wrapped around her like they were tethered. Not with the way Cassian stood taller, broader—like a shield he didn’t realize he was trying to become. Or the way Rhysand’s eyes seemed to be stuck on her, a weird mix of softness and wariness in them.

Elain blinked, her expression uncertain. “Is… everything alright?”

The hooded female made no move to greet her. Only turned slightly, shadows hiding most of her face, and offered nothing but silence.

Feyre’s voice broke through, too soft to startle. “Elain.” A faint edge of worry laced her words, though she kept her tone calm—for the sake of the child in her arms. “It’s alright. You should head back to your room.”

But the female—Elain—didn’t move.

Didn’t listen.

She could feel it, after all. The tension hanging in the air. The sharp alertness of those she called family. The way they stood like they were braced for a fight.

(Who was going to fight who wasn't clear, though.)

So Elain stepped forward instead, crossing the room in soft, deliberate steps and stopped beside Azriel.

(Too close.)

The dark-cloaked figure kept her eyes ahead, focused on the hearth, but she felt it—the closeness of Elain’s hand near Azriel’s, the tilt of her body turned subtly toward him. Heard it in the way Elain spoke quietly to him, a question only he could hear.

And maybe it was the softness in her voice. Or the way she reached out to gently touch his arm.

But something sharp twisted in the female’s gut.

She wasn’t sure if it was instinct—or the ghost of something far older.

Whatever it was, it made her shoulders stiffen.

Azriel didn’t answer Elain right away. His eyes were still on her.

Because his shadows—traitorous little spies—slithered away from her and coiled at his ear, whispering the truth directly into his ear.

She’d tensed the moment Elain stepped beside him.

Tensed like something in her had bristled. Like instinct. Like a wound prodded open.

Something inside him stirred and purred pleased.

His shadows curled inward for a breath, then slithered away again, like smoke drawn back into a flame, as if relaying the message had been enough.

But one tendril lingered. Slipped back toward her like a question, like a breath. Her jaw tensed, but she didn’t stop it. It brushed the edge of her hood and gave the faintest tug—just enough to let the firelight catch her face. Just enough for him to see.

As he instinctively took a step in her direction, the air shimmered—

And Morrigan winnowed into the room, voice already mid-rant. “What the hell is going on? I swear if you made me share the same air as Keir just to—”

She froze.

She stared.

The blood drained from her face.

“No,” Mor whispered. “No. That’s not—”

Her voice cracked. She took a step forward. And then another, slower. Almost afraid. “We thought you were—Rhys said you were gone. We grieved you.”

Her expression softened. Just slightly. “I know.”

“You died,” Mor choked. “I—”

“I didn’t.”

Her voice wasn’t cold. Just tired.

“Mother above,” Mor breathed. “It’s really you.”

And then Amren appeared, in a swish of silver and cold.

She scanned the room. Took one long look at the cloaked figure. And unlike the others, didn’t freeze.

She tilted her head.

“Well,” Amren said coolly. “I’ll be damned.”

The second-in-command female gave her a once-over, arms folded. “Still using chaos as your calling card?”

The golden-eyed revenant arched a brow, not once breaking eye contact. “Still collecting trinkets and terrifying males?”

Amren’s lip twitched. “I should’ve known the attacks had your signature on them. Subtle as ever.”

The woman shrugged. “Subtle doesn’t get messages across.”

A beat of quiet.

Amren tilted her head, a glint of something like approval flickering in her ancient gaze. “Good,” she murmured. “I’d hate to think you’d gone soft.”

The female’s mouth curved—barely. “You always did have a warped idea of softness.”

But the tension between them wasn’t harsh. Not quite. There was a flicker of familiarity. Of something like respect.

And then silence again. The kind that meant there was too much to say—and no time to say it.

Still, she could feel it. The weight of a gaze locked on her.

Hazel eyes. Unmoving. Watching.

She met them, finally.

A second passed. One heartbeat.

Two.

And it felt like the whole room tilted.

So many words unsaid.

So much weight.

But it wasn’t just his gaze she felt.

Just beyond him, she caught the brown-eyed female. Lovely, all delicate features. Draped in softness, in sweetness, in everything she never was. She noticed the way the girl’s hand hovered near his, too casual to be coincidence. Familiar. Intentional.

The scent of flowers and honey curled in her throat. She almost gagged on it.

Something in her chest coiled, but she smothered it before it could rise.

She looked away first.

“Wait–Hold on. Where have you been? How are you here?” Mor’s voice wavered, thin and disbelieving, cutting through the charged silence and dragging her gaze from the male standing motionless—as if carved from stone—and his lovely shadow dressed in bloom. “I saw you fall and–and Rhys confirmed to us you died. I–I mourned you.” Her final words cracked around the edges, barely holding together. Her eyes scanned the female as if trying to find the seams in the illusion. As if convinced she’d dissolve if Mor blinked too long. “And now…now you are here.” Her voice dipped into a breathless whisper, as if the truth of them had only just landed—and it hit hard. Too hard. Her expression twisted—shock still warring with something darker. Like she wanted to be angry, needed to be, just to hold back the grief clawing at her edges.

“Standing in front of us as if nothing has happened.” Her voice sharpened. “Why would you do that? How could you do that?” To me. She didn’t need to say it aloud but the weight of it was there. It settled between them like ash.

The female didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Only said, “I could explain to you the hows and whys, but I think it would be more fun to hear it coming from the one who orchestrated everything, don’t you think?” Her voice was calm—almost too calm. But there was something simmering underneath it. A glint of challenge. A thread of buried fury woven into silk.

She turned her head slowly toward him. “What’d you think, Rhysand? I always did enjoy listening to a good storyteller.”

All eyes turned to the High Lord, who until now had kept to the shadows of the room. He stood with Feyre and their son positioned protectively behind him—his silence no longer a shield but a spotlight.

His posture was a practiced stillness—one he’d mastered over centuries of war and diplomacy. But inside… his heart was thundering. The sight of her—alive, standing, breathing—was a blow he hadn’t prepared for. Not even in his nightmares. Not even in his hopes.

And now, every lie he’d told to keep his court together, every excuse he’d spun, was unraveling—thread by thread.

“What does she mean, Rhys?” Feyre’s voice was quiet. Controlled. But her hand had gripped his arm, tightly.

He didn’t answer.

Because her eyes were still on him. Pinning him like a butterfly beneath glass. There was no softness in them. No mercy. Rhysand could feel the weight of it—her gaze, like a blade held at his throat. Daring him to lie. Daring him to not say it. And from either side of the room, four more gazes pressed in.

Cassian’s: wide with disbelief, waiting—needing—answers.

Azriel’s: colder. Sharper. Burning with a fury so quiet it could only have come from grief.

To the side, Mor stood frozen mid-step, golden hair catching the firelight. Her mouth parted, but no sound came out. She looked between her cousin and the female she hadn’t seen in centuries. Her face was pale, the beginnings of realization dawning like a storm behind her eyes.

Amren sat back in her chair, her expression unreadable, but her silver eyes narrowed on Rhysand with laser precision. She hadn’t said a word either—but she was watching. Not just the scene unfolding, but everyone. Measuring truths. Measuring lies. Her stillness was a warning in itself.

“Would you like for me to make an introduction or would you prefer taking center stage?” Her tone was laced with mockery, but just beneath the sarcasm lurked the sharp edge of frustration—like a long-held dam threatening to break.

Cassian breathed her name like a plea—soft, like it would settle her. It didn’t. It only helped to light a fuse beneath her skin. The weight of it, the familiarity, the audacity. Was he seriously trying to play peacekeeper now? After everything she’d already been forced to carry alone?

Her voice snapped like a whip. “Shut up.”

She turned to Rhys once more. If they were going to stand there and pretend ignorance, then fine. She’d spell it out for them.

“Won’t you like to know how your brother handed me over to the enemy like I was just some fucking inconvenience?” Her voice rose—not in volume, but in fury. Low and shaking and sharp. “Or how he watched me beg for help when, suddenly, my body didn’t respond to me?” A brittle laugh broke from her lips, all edges and old wounds. There was no humor in it. No cruelty either. Just the brutal edge of a wound that had never healed.

Rhysand’s stomach hollowed.

It scraped through the room like shattered glass.

“Oh, would you like to explain to them why that happened, Rhys?”

Silence fell. Total. Suffocating.

Rhysand opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter now, pulsing around him like restless sentries. As if they could sense something his body hadn’t yet allowed itself to feel.

He couldn’t stop watching her.

The cut of her jaw, sharper now. The way her stance held weight, not just from the steel at her back, but from something deeper—grief calcified into bone. The tilt of her chin, defiant and exhausted in equal measure. The brief sight of new, faint tattooed lines, branching out and resembling lightning, going up her arms and disappearing under her leathers; ones that were worn and plain, travel-stained and practical. No jewels, no flourish. Just her—and somehow, that made her more striking than he remembered.

But it wasn’t just how she looked.

It was the silence she carried like a cloak.

It was the stillness in her eyes, the kind you only learn after you’ve lost too much, too young, for too long.

What made him excel at his job was the fact that he had always been good at reading people—at seeing what was buried beneath the surface. And with her… he saw it all.

The fury in her voice might have been aimed at Rhys, but beneath it, Azriel could feel the pulse of something else. Something cracked and quietly bleeding. A kind of tired that didn’t sleep. A sorrow that didn’t speak its name.

She was angry, yes.

But she was also hurting.

And he understood that hurt more than most would.

He’d known the girl she’d once been. The girl who laughed too loudly at Cassian’s jokes and used to steal his books. Who slept with her head against the armrest whenever he was reading just to keep him company. The one he’d sparred with in quiet corners, who thought silence was safer than asking for help.

And this female before him?

She was still her. But not.

There was a new stillness to her. Like standing before a frozen lake—you could admire the beauty of it, the sheer, clean edge of the ice, but beneath it ran dark, cold currents you’d drown in if you weren’t careful.

Azriel couldn’t look away.

He didn’t know what he expected to feel when he saw her again—if he’d feel anger for the way she vanished, or guilt for how they’d failed her. But all he could feel was the weight of the distance between them. A distance not just of time, but of everything unsaid. Everything broken.

She had every fucking reason to be this angry, this wounded, this hard. And still, all he wanted—all he wanted—was to step between her and the pain. To reach for her, steady her, shield her from all of it like he hadn’t done when she’d truly needed it.

But would she even let him?

Would she flinch from his touch the way she had flinched all those months ago?

He wanted to protect her.

Even if she didn’t need it now. Even if she might stab him for trying.

She had survived something none of them had seen. Had endured far beyond what they’d all assumed she couldn’t. And he—

He wanted to know her.

He wanted to know what had been carved away and what had been built in its place. What had been lost. But he also wanted to learn the new pieces—the armor she’d had to forge, the edges she’d had to sharpen just to make it back alive. Just to exist again.

What still lived behind those eyes he used to know better than his own reflection?

What had she sacrificed to stand here now, cloaked in silence and fury?

What had it cost her?

Could he ever be worthy of even asking?

And maybe if she’d let him, he wanted to earn the right to stand beside her again.

Whatever she’d become in the years she’d been gone… a part of him had never stopped looking.

Not really.

Not when she became the only silence he could never quite find peace in.

Azriel couldn’t look at Rhys without feeling something twist inside him.

He had followed Rhysand into war, into darkness, into every impossible choice—and never once flinched.

Until now.

His brother was composed, too composed. Still as stone, jaw tight, gaze unreadable. But Azriel knew him too well. He saw the tension in the way Rhys’s hand subtly shifted in front of Feyre, the careful way he stood between her and their son—as if the female across the room posed a threat.

She had posed a threat. But only to the truth.

And that, Azriel realized, was what Rhys feared most in this moment. Not her wrath. Not her return.

But what she might say.

And wasn’t that telling?

Azriel’s jaw clenched. Because even now—after all this time, after all this pain—Rhys hadn’t said a word. No denial. No explanation. Just silence.

A silence Azriel might’ve once interpreted as strategy. Restraint.

Now it felt like cowardice.

He didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe that Rhysand, who had once sworn to protect them all like family, had made a choice that damned her. That left her to rot in some prison of shadows while they grieved a ghost.

He’d seen the wound beneath her calm.

Something Rhys had put there.

And that… that was harder to swallow than anything else.

Because if it was true—

If Rhys had let her fall…

If he had decided she was expendable, a sacrifice made in the name of some greater good—

Then what did that mean for everything they were?

Azriel kept his face blank. His shadows knew better than to react.

But inside, a slow, cold fury was building. Not explosive like Cassian’s, not loud.

Something quieter. Sharper.

Rhys hadn’t just miscalculated.

He had lied.

And whatever came next… Azriel would not forget that.

Not when it had cost her everything.

But Azriel had always known how to bury things.

Pain. Doubt. Longing. He was a master of silence, of shadow, of holding truths in his mouth like they were knives too dangerous to set loose. Loyalty had always been a clean line for him—clear, unwavering, etched in stone. Rhysand was his brother, his High Lord. The one who had pulled him out of the hells of his childhood, who had given him purpose, a place, a voice—even if that voice was most often used in whispers.

But tonight, that line blurred.

He watched her speak, saw how she looked not at the floor or the ceiling but straight through Rhys, eyes sharp as blades honed in silence and survival. The same eyes that used to hold mischief, defiance, the fierce fire of someone who trusted the people around her. That fire was different now. Still burning, but colder. More dangerous.

And Mother help him, Azriel understood.

Because he knew the way people broke quietly—how they bled out belief, drop by agonizing drop, until the only thing left to believe in was yourself.

And he knew Rhysand. Knew how far his brother would go to protect the bigger picture—even if it meant cutting pieces out of the frame.

So he began to do what he always did when the world tilted.

He started sorting things.

Loyalty to Rhysand.

Loyalty to this Court.

Loyalty to her.

He didn’t know yet which would win out. But he understood now, with a cold clarity, that they might no longer be the same thing.

And it terrified him.

Because if Rhys had truly done what she implied—if he had let her be taken, if he had made the call and never told them, never told him—then Azriel would have to ask himself a question he’d never dared to before:

What happens when the person you trust most turns out to be the reason someone else you care about suffered?

He wasn’t ready to answer it. Not yet.

But in the corner of his mind, he began building the walls anyway.

Not to shut Rhys out entirely.

But to protect himself if—when—he had to choose.

Because he wasn’t just watching her now.

He was watching Rhys too.

And for the first time in centuries, he wasn’t sure which of them he’d follow if those paths ever split.

Mor finally found her voice. “Rhys…” she whispered. “What did you do?” But even she didn’t seem sure whether it was a question or an accusation.

Amren, from her seat, gave a soft snort. “Well? Say something, boy, before she tears your spine out and feeds it to your own pet shadows.”

No one laughed.

Not even Cassian, whose hands had curled into fists, trembling slightly at his sides. Who looked like he might be sick.

“Well?” she asked.

Time was up.

Rhysand couldn’t run from this anymore.

Feyre’s voice cut in, tight and confused. “Rhys, for Cauldron’s sake, what is going on?”

Nyx was quietly in her arms, one small hand clutched in her gown. But his violet eyes were locked—not on his father, or his mother, but on the female across the room.

Rhysand straightened, gaze never wavering from the female across from him. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse—but steady. “I had to make a choice.”

The silence pulled taut, a thread ready to snap.

“A choice,” she repeated, soft and disbelieving. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

He inclined his head. “It wasn’t an easy one. You were outnumbered, surrounded. We had seconds. And the information we had… it pointed to a trap. One that risked not just your life, but hundreds of others.”

Her laugh was low. Empty. “You violated my trust.”

She took a step forward. Rhys didn’t flinch, but something flickered in his eyes as her next words fell, deliberate and quiet:

“It took me time to realize why I couldn’t move. Why my body didn’t respond—why I couldn’t even scream. I saw you above me. Stone-faced. Still. And then I felt it, faint but there—velvet and cold. Your talons in my mind. Wrapping around it. Silencing it. Holding me down.”

Her voice trembled—not with fear, but fury so raw it scraped bone.

“You made yourself judge, jury, and executioner. And you handed me over—gift-wrapped—to our enemy.”

A sharp inhale echoed from Feyre. Cassian muttered something under his breath, a curse swallowed by disbelief.

“I didn’t understand at first,” she went on, tone tight. “I kept asking myself why. Why would my brother leave me there? Why would he do that? Why would he betray me?” Her fingers clenched at her sides. “I kept asking myself that as the first arrow struck. And the second. And the third. Each one laced with faebane. And then… then I asked it again for years. In a dark hole beneath the earth, as they tore pieces from me and stitched them back together just to start all over again. For ninety years.”

The room was stone-still.

She paused, her jaw trembling before she forced the words out.

“I became their entertainment. Their toy. But even then, even as they carved me up and left me bleeding and barely alive in the dark—I never gave them anything. Not a single name. Not a secret.” Her eyes burned now, fixed on Rhys. “I protected this Court, even as it abandoned me.”

Rhys's composure wavered—only just. He opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

She stepped forward again, and Azriel found himself shifting slightly, instinct tightening in his gut. She didn’t need protection—he knew that. But his body itched to offer it anyway.

“I shouldn’t have cared if it burned.” she said. “But I’m not you, Rhys. I don’t betray my people. And the people here aren’t to blame for the monster they follow. The people didn’t betray me. You did.”

Her words cracked the air.

Across from her, Rhysand stood motionless—no longer the powerful High Lord of the Night Court, but something far more raw. More haunted. He stared at her as if trying to hold onto the shape of her now that the truth was laid bare between them. But there was no shape he could mold her into that would make this easier.

So he spoke.

Low. Rough. A voice trying not to tremble.

“There was a prophecy.”

The room stilled again. Even Nyx looked up at the change in his father’s tone.

“It was passed down to me once. A long time ago. From my father.” Rhysand’s eyes didn’t leave hers.

Her confusion etched plainly across her face. Rhys reached for the worn leather-bound tome resting on the desk beside him—a translation of the scrolls passed down from High Lord to High Lord. The pages crackled faintly as he turned to the marked passage, careful, reverent. The ink was faded in places, but the translation was still legible, scrawled in the slanted handwriting of a High Priestess long dead.

He read aloud, his words slow and deliberate:

“And when the final storm awakens, the skies shall be torn asunder.

Lightning shall carve the heavens, and thunder shall shatter the earth.

Their fury shall be unrelenting; their wrath, unyielding.

And where they walk, ruin shall follow— For they are the storm that ends all wars.”

He looked up slowly as the words settled between them, hanging in the air like smoke—dense and clinging, curling through her thoughts and refusing to clear.

It didn’t make sense.

It made too much sense.

“Should the storm be unleashed, the world shall bow—or be undone.”

The line surfaced unbidden, echoing in her mind—familiar in a way that made her stomach tighten. Older. Deeper. From the dreams that returned night after night, always ending in fire and ash and her—wreathed in lightning, standing where the world had cracked.

Her breath caught in her chest, shallow and too fast, as if her lungs suddenly forgot how to work properly. Her body remained still, but inside, she felt like she was falling—spiraling down through every memory, every unanswered question, through nightmares, through a prophecy that had always worn her face.

She was drowning in the space between then and now. Between the moment Rhysand chose to let her fall, and the truth he was finally speaking into the open.

A prophecy.

A storm.

A destroyer.

Rhysand’s voice pulled her back. “It was translated from an old tongue,” he added. “At first I naively thought it was about a warrior. A symbol of hope. I thought it meant someone would rise to help end our suffering. A weapon the world needed to break free. But that night, when I saw what was beginning to awaken in you…” He exhaled. “I understood. The prophecy wasn’t about salvation. It was a warning.”

Cassian spoke softly. “You never mentioned it before.”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Rhys said. “Not then. I grew up with old stories and half-burned scrolls. Riddles dressed as legends. None of it ever felt real. I didn’t care much for myths.”

He drew a breath, the next words slower.

“But then I saw her. I’m guessing high emotions triggered it…” She looked away. Lowered her eyes like they were too heavy to hold his gaze. Because she remembered—

The way Azriel had fallen.

The sickening sound of his body hitting the ground.

And how something ancient and foreign inside her had cracked open.

“...The sky began to bend around her. The air itself went still. Like the world was holding its breath.”

A silence fell over them again. Uneasy. Unwilling.

“I saw the power waking up inside her,” he said. “And I realized—this prophecy wasn’t about ending the war or saving us. It was about ending everything.”

He turned his gaze fully on her. “If you had let go—if you’d truly given in—there wouldn’t have been anything left. Not of our enemies. Not of Prythian. Not even of us.” He swallowed. “So I did the only thing I could. I stopped you. I stopped the storm.”

A pause. A whisper. “And I lost you forever.”

Her heart thundered so loud she could barely hear him. Her mind raced, trying to catch up, trying to make sense of the ground shifting beneath her.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

This wasn’t supposed to be her.

Mor’s voice broke the silence. “Is that all the texts said?”

“No,” Amren murmured, her silver eyes distant. “I’ve read them too. Before the scrolls vanished.”

Rhys blinked. “You can read Iskra’tan?”

The old tongue. Most scholars could barely decipher fragments—let alone speak it. And yet Amren said it like she’d lived with it.

“Yes,” Amren said simply.

Cassian frowned. “How the fuck do you even know it?”

Amren didn’t answer at first. Only tilted her head, silver eyes glinting. “I remember it,” she said simply.

Mor’s brows knitted. “From where?”

Amren’s smile faded. “From before.”

She continued, lifting a shoulder. “It’s older than the mountains. Difficult to translate without... context.”

“Context?” Feyre echoed warily.

Amren’s smile was slow. Unreadable. “It is not a language you learn in books, girl,” she went on, tone distant now. “Iskra’tan is… primal. It was never meant to be transcribed—I’m impressed someone managed to, somehow.” She explained. “It was carved into the world before your kind ever walked it. You don’t read it. You listen.”

They stared.

“And you understand it?” Feyre asked, disbelieving.

A glimmer of amusement sparked in Amren’s eyes. “Well enough.”

Silence again.

Then Amren turned her attention back to her. Her silver eyes, usually so sharp and dismissive, were watching her as though she were a blade unsheathed. Something like awe in her gaze.

“They spoke of a lost kingdom,” Amren said. “A bloodline that should have died out. It was said their very existence threatened the balance of this world. Not because they were evil—no, the Gods do not fear monsters.” She tilted her head. “They feared what could not be controlled.”

The words slammed into her chest.

“They could bend the skies,” Amren went on. “Crack the fabric of reality itself. Maybe more. No one really knows. But it was believed that, if one of them ever reached their full potential, they wouldn’t just defeat their enemies—they’d shatter the world.” She held her gaze. “The only reason it never happened before was because they were wiped out before they could reach that point. Hunted until none remained.”

Amren paused.

“Or so they thought.”

The room blurred.

Her thoughts scattered. Dizzy, jagged, directionless.

Too much. It was too much.

Was this who she was?

Some... ancient weapon?

“And you think she’s one of them?” Feyre asked quietly.

Rhysand didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

The truth was already written in the set of his shoulders. In the way he couldn’t look away from her.

In the way he’d let her fall. Chosen it.

Her fingers curled at her sides to stop the trembling, to ground herself in something, anything. But the ache in her chest kept growing. A raw, trembling weight behind her sternum, pressing into her lungs, into her spine, into the very seams of her bones.

Her voice had vanished somewhere. Her mind scrambled to process it all—the betrayal, the prophecy, the bloodline she had never heard of, the things she had felt inside her and never dared to name.

And worse still—the dreams.

The dreams she'd had for years. A ruined kingdom, crumbling towers choked in ivy and ash. A river that bled red. The unfamiliar symbols etched in stone walls that felt too familiar. The cold marble beneath her feet as bodies reached for her. The deafening screams and the storms that always followed.

Had those dreams not been nightmares?

Had they been memories?

Were those people—the ones who called to her across the veil, who screamed her name as the walls cracked and the skies turned black—hers?

Was that ruined place where she came from?

Was she the reason it fell?

Her thoughts spiraled faster than she could catch them. Doubt sank in like ice water in her lungs.

Maybe this was why Rhysand had done it.

Maybe he had been right to let them take her.

She tried to be angry again, to stoke the fire that had burned so hot a moment ago—but it flickered now, dimmed by the overwhelming certainty that maybe—maybe—she had never been meant to survive.

That she shouldn’t have.

She had begged for death in that dungeon more times than she could count. Had hoped for it. And maybe—maybe if it had come, the world would’ve been safer for it.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall.

She couldn’t.

Because how could she let them see that underneath the fury, underneath the wounded pride and rage, there was only this:

A female who didn’t understand what she was.

Who never had.

Who wished she could go back in time and never listen to Theron when he told her to come here. Who wished she'd stayed hidden with him, far from the Night Court and its shadows and its history and its truths.

Ignorance would have been a kindness.

They could have stayed by the sea, in that sun-warmed villa, chasing chaos across distant lands, letting the world forget she ever existed.

And maybe—maybe she should have been forgotten.

Maybe that was the only mercy she’d been denied.

Her heart pounded, her breath caught—and across the room, Azriel saw it all.

She wasn’t saying a word, but she may as well have been screaming.

Because every emotion painted itself on her face like a storm rolling in: confusion, grief, a dawning terror. The look of someone suddenly unmade. And Azriel—he watched as if each crack in her resolve echoed in his own ribs.

He didn’t move, but his shadows did.

They hovered near her, restless and reaching, as if unsure whether to touch her or not. As if unsure whether she would shatter or unleash a force that would level them all.

Her throat worked around a breath, rough and thin. Like her lungs had forgotten how to function.

She didn’t look at anyone. She just stared at the far wall—at nothing—as her voice finally slipped free.

Soft. Tired.

“Maybe you were right,” she said, her eyes cast down. A breath in. A breath out. “Maybe I am something to be afraid of.”

The words hung there. Flat. Lifeless. As if even she didn’t know whether she meant them. The silence that followed pressed in from all sides.

“No,” Azriel said. Quietly. Firmly. The first word he’d spoken since she’d arrived.

She looked up, slowly, into his face.

His shadows stirred gently at her side, not in warning, but in comfort.

“You’re not a monster,” Azriel went on, voice low but steady. “You never were.”

Her throat worked around the knot lodged there. But she said nothing.

Rhysand’s mouth opened slightly—but no words came. Maybe because he heard what everyone else did:

She wasn’t accusing him anymore.

She was accepting it.

Worse.

He stepped forward. Slowly. No High Lord mask now—just a male who looked older than she remembered, more tired than she’d ever seen him.

“I thought I was protecting everyone,” he said, voice hoarse. “I thought I was protecting you.”

The apology wasn’t eloquent.

It wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t need your protection,” she replied, not with venom, but exhaustion. “I needed my brother.”

Surprisingly, Amren was the one who stepped forward next.

Only a step—but it was something. The silver in her eyes shimmered, the faintest trace of what they’d once been. She didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her like someone who saw too much.

Her voice was low, quiet, but unmistakably steady. “You weren’t born for shelter, girl. You were born from the storm itself. Wild. Unwritten. You’ll never fit in their neat little kingdoms. You were meant for something greater.” A faint curve pulled at her lips. “You keep trying to be understood. Stop. You weren’t made for understanding. You were made to be felt.”

The female didn’t answer. Didn’t acknowledge it. But the words found her anyway. Sank deep.

Cassian shifted next—just a little, his arms folding over his chest again like he didn’t know what to do with them otherwise. The look in his eyes said it all. That big brother kind of grief. The helpless kind.

He cleared his throat. His voice was a poor cover for the emotion choking it. “I was supposed to protect you,” he muttered. “Back then. I—I didn’t. And I don’t know how to make that right.” She turned to him, just slightly. “But you’re not alone. Not now. Not ever again. I don’t care if the whole damn mountain shakes when you breathe. You’re still my sister.”

The female blinked once. Just once.

Mor… Mor had tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She made no move to hide them.

“You were my sister,” she whispered. “You are. And I don’t care if you can split the skies in two. That never scared me. And it never will.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. The room was too much—too many truths, too many eyes, too many pieces of herself scattered across the floor like someone had taken a blade to her past and split it wide open.

Her throat tightened. The room blurred at the edges. She didn’t want to cry in front of them. Something in her locked down, like a gate slamming shut in a crumbling hall.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. Her shoulders drew back—but not in pride.

In armor.

A fortress rebuilt in a blink.

“I’m tired,” she said finally. The words scraped against her throat. “I need—” she broke off, then tried again, “I need to go.”

Cassian moved instantly, almost panicked. “Wait—don’t—”

“Please,” Mor said, already circling to intercept, her voice trembling. “You just got back—”

They all felt it—that same gut-deep instinct the winged Illyrian males felt in the forest, the same one that screamed if she leaves, we may never find her again.

Her gaze swept the room. The hurt in it. The confusion. The hope no one dared name.

“I’ll come back,” she said, quiet but sure.

“No one will stop you,” Rhysand said, but his voice was hollow. Ash in the wind. “But please—don’t disappear again.”

A hundred words waited on her tongue. But she swallowed them down. Too raw. Too unfinished.

“You can stay here—” Feyre rushed to offer.

“No, I can’t.” she shook her head slightly.

Then she exhaled—and vanished.

The air around her warped.

Like lightning through glass.

A shimmer along the seams of the world, threads of raw pressure and storm cracking outward in thin, silvery lines. The space she occupied seemed to fold in on itself, pressure building so fast it made the walls hum, the fire gutter. The temperature dropped. The scent of ozone rushed in. Sparks—real sparks—danced in the air, gold and white and pale blue.

And then the room shuddered with a sound like distant thunder.

She was gone.

Just… gone.

Like the storm had come for her and taken her back.

And the room—so full of tension and hurt and grief—stood still again.

Except for Azriel.

Who hadn’t stopped watching the place where she’d stood.

Not even when Mor sank into a chair, shell-shocked. Not even when Cassian cursed under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. Not when Elain moved towards her sister and nephew.

The silence she left behind wasn’t quiet.

It thrummed. It sang. It ached.

And as the others stood frozen in the echo of her departure, Azriel only breathed her in.

Because some fools ran from the storm.

But he—

He’d always been the kind to step into it, head bowed, heart bare, hoping it would swallow him whole.

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