#no wonder we had to wait almost two months for this chapter. we all would have died if it got released earlier.

[sovamurka]

Me, smiling: it’s such a wonderful day! Bubble comics: *releases new Exlibrium chapter* Me, suddenly sweating: Oh no-   ~fifteen minutes later~ Me, crying intensely: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Good fluffy super romantic chapter. We need some holy water before the next chapter, trust me

Notes: I appreciate you all for reading, for liking it and sharing it <3 Hope you have a good day!

WC: 5.5K

The invitations were sent as personal correspondence.

The License was issued with a Special Status according to the Crown and Chruch of England.

The Vicar was selected who sent the service beforehand.

Your dress was ready.

The time was set.

After a month of engagement and... seven years of knowing Benedict you thought it was overdue.

You left your spoon and wiped your mouth, the cream made your stomach warm and your eyelids heavy "May I be excused?"

"Not that quick" your Mother wiped her mouth "We are indeed grateful you will be married tomorrow"

Your father nodded "Always grateful, my darling"

"Tomorrow you embark on life's true meaning and..." she shrugged "I am content for it. If you don't mind, I would very much to be with you when you go to sleep"

Your eyes snapped at her delicate smile. The run by Benedict's house was long forgotten and still, you did not mind. This sudden request from your mother does not come often. He will understand, that you have quite long nights ahead only for the two of you.

You nodded and continued with your routine with your Mother by your side, and when you started to slumber she touched your cheek. You forgot until when she did it. Perhaps a final night as her girl is what both of you needed.

But the peace lasted hours because you were pulled from your bed with almost violence you growled. Like never before you were bathed in rose water no sooner than the early morning, your Mother was already clothed in a beautiful lilac gown and your ladies were rushed by her stubborn tone.

You stood there and waited to be clothed, the "tighter" from your Mother's voice appeared three times in the room. Your pearl and ivory dress was the most uncomfortable garment you have worn, still beautiful, irritating to your sides. The ceremony was the last of your worries, it was surviving the day with the fabric on your body.

Your face was naturally decorated, your cheeks were pinched and pigmented and your lips shared their tone. It was a bridal look indeed. The veil was placed last with a beautiful diamond tiara that hugged your frontal hairstyle.

You did not recognize yourself and you wondered how Benedict would react, your heart raced at the thought.

"Beautiful" your mother whispered, she took her own pearls and put them around her neck "Come on now, we will put your shoes before stepping outside" she ordered and left.

The drive was short, a few blocks away from the Chapel. The sides were adorned with white tulips and soft green stems. You walked down and your breath hitched at the sight.

Your father held your gloved arm and waited for a young parochial to give him the sign which no more than three minutes -or three hours you thought- is when your father started to move.

His arm squeezed you as his steps echoed with his cane, you took a deep breath when the light became stronger and the sound of a soft violin emerged. You could not imagine that the Bridgertons and the Ashbournes would be side by side not for any gathering but your wedding. Your eyes danced everywhere, you saw Mrs Bridgerton and Kate in a gentle embrace, Anthony nodding, Eloise and Francesca smiling, Gregory and Hyancinth peeking to the aisle where you were advancing.

The most handsome, tall, strong, gentle, passionate, caring man you had the pleasure to meet and the one who will share your life. He has shared his adventures, his anecdotes, his jokes, his love, lust and soul with you. Your best friend.

He smiled widely, his pristine teeth appeared and the dimples showed themselves. You smiled as well, his tailcoat navy blue and his waistcoat beautifully matched your pearl and ivory gown. A delicate flower by the much next to his shoulder and his hair precisely brushed back. How could you capture this moment? How can this live forever? Is there something that can froze this moment in time? You chuckled at the abrut thought.

When your father extended his arm with yours towards Benedict, he bowed in return and grabbed your hand with delicacy. He kissed your clothed fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

The Vicar cleared his throat "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation- "

You continued to listen, distantly of of course as you remember the first time you met.

*-*-*-* 1808

"Give me that!"

"No it's mine now"

"Girls"

"Mama, Eloise keeps taking my dolls"

"Eloise, stop hiding Francesca's dolls and better pay attention to your play date"

Your eyes peaked from the newspaper once discarded by the table "It's alright, Mrs Bridgerton. I expected a house with sisters to be like this"

"Funny" Eloise threw her hair out of her face and landed next to you "but being an only child and a daughter sounds.... fascinating!" she yelled back at Francesca who stuck her tongue at her "But well, it is not that bad, I do share my life with men..." she frowned "now that I think about it... it is bad"

"Men who are never here" Violet sighed and kindly handed you and Eloise plates "Now eat some before you start your lessons. Y/N you must thank your mother for me for bringing your governess for the day"

"Of course, Mrs Bridgerton, I am always happy to share lessons when Eloise's governess is... indisposed?"

"more like vexed with me for the thousandth time" she snickered "Eating that?"

You offered the tart to her as your ears pierced to the sound of steps. Your head looked up to see Colin extending his arms and the other two men behind him.

"Oh my sons"

"Brothers!" Eloise and Francesca said in sync.

You waited for their affectionate greetings, Eloise did the honour of presenting you with Colin who was away at Eton most of the time but you knew him because of recent gatherings, then Anthony who gallantly bowed and kissed your hand and quickly complimented your strength for dealing with the young sisters and finally Benedict who dressed as his other brothers smiled to you and bowed as well. His face was screaming Bridgerton all over. His chestnut hair, the cheekbones and chin and the kind eyes which you suppose are given by the late Lord Bridgerton.

"Miss Ashbourne. A pleasure"

"Indeed. All good at Cambridge?"

He frowned "You know I go there?"

"Your Mother said it today, congratulations on the graduation"

"Oh that is kind of you, thanks"

"Literature?" you questioned

"Among others, but my favourite was art"

"Art?"

"Underestimated subject and an elective which puts the argument more in my favour"

"I wish I could go there for a day" you noted

"Is that so?"

"A problematic statement on my part?"

"No, not at all"

"Perhaps if I wear some breeches and a tailcoat" you snorted and bit your tongue quickly "Forgive me, I must join Eloise we have a lesson together"

"Has her governess quit already?"

"I believe she still works but decided to be indisposed for a week"

"Oh Lord"

"Did you call me"? Anthony peaked his head from a corner

"No, I was using the Lord's name in vain"

"Oh alright"

Benedict nodded and saw your embroidery hanging from your hand "If you go to Cambridge you will be given a tour and not a lesson as I think you would like”

"I'm well aware"

"But I do have my books. If you wish to read them"

"Oh I would be delighted"

"You can pick a few and borrow them if you wish. I'll be here for a week and then I'll go to my lodging"

"Any chance you got Science?"

"I got all subjects... I'll leave them downstairs. I must go and refresh myself and please, feel free to grab more than one" he repeated

*-*-*-*

"....I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you knows any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it"

Silence. Thank God.

The Vicar nodded "Now, I must say onto the man" he stared at Benedict "Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

Benedict looked over at you and nodded in your direction "I will"

"And wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Obey him. You saw Benedict's blue eyes, he winked so slowly as he read your mind. Obey him... perhaps for other things.

"I will" you responded

"Then please" he directed his stare at Benedict who nodded

His beautiful hand took your right one and he took off your long ivory glove, not so gallantly he threw it over his shoulder and left it there hanging. He snorted. "I take thee Y/N to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish... to obey" he smiled "Even after death do us apart"

You felt constricted by the lack of air. You forgot how to breathe for all his troth. You stared back at the Vicar who directed your right hand. You grabbed his right hand and nodded at yourself for reassurance.

"I take thee, Benedict, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey" you smiled wider "Even after death do us apart"

Benedict felt the weight of the words while your eyes shone with the intensity of the day. It is happening the moment he thought it was never going to transpire.

*-*-*-* 1812

Benedict saw how you glared at the tulips in front of you. What were you staring at? Is the colour horrid? Is the smell not like you imagined? Why women are always looking for some reason to dislike things?

"Is something the matter?"

He saw how you blinked at him "Pardon?"

"You are killing me with your eyes, what have I done?"

He parted his lips and felt the unfairness of his actions upon someone like you "Forgive me, it was not intentioned for you"

"To whom then?"

"Women"

You crinkled your nose "Non taken"

"I did not mean that"

"The fact my hems are still up" You showed your ankles "Is making you say that but when I debut you can consider me part of the ton you much dislike"

"I don't dislike women. On the contrary"

"Hmmm" You touched the petals and looked at your thumb "Then what is the matter?"

"Nothing" he lied thinking about the woman he tried and failed to reach "What is the matter with you and Tulips?"

"I am trying to get their pigments"

"Again" he laughed "every season is the same, we come here and you are off to the tulips, leave them be, woman"

"I thought I was not a woman" You stared at him and then kept touching the petals "I am constant and you shall learn from me"

"Constant?"

"I keep trying every year no matter how some people" you glared at him "Look at me"

"Are you saying I must be constant with women?"

you blushed "I have no good opinion about courting"

"Why?"

"I am eighteen, Benedict"

"Clearly more mature than I am" he sighed and leaned next to you and whispered, "You have read countless books, of all matters have you not?"

"Fantasy some of them"

"And what did they say? About courting?" he saw your cheeks turning red and smiled "Feel comfortable telling me"

You had the spark of the idea but couldn't express it with the book's content so you shrugged "You have been courting this lady for a while and still no progress. What does that say?"

"That I must be better"

"No" you snorted "Evidently she is not worth the time and effort"

"Harsh?"

"I told you, I haven't developed my tact"

"I think you are perfect" he looked to the pond and then to the tulips "Do you always try first with the red ones?"

"No, I move to the next colour"

He smiled and grinned at you "I see what you did there"

You giggled and took a white tulip, snatched it from the stem and gave it to him "Sometimes there are tulips that smell better than others. Is just a matter of observing"

*-*-*-*

Benedict's fingers gently touched yours as he took the ring from the vicar's hand and slowly placed it on your ring finger.

"With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."

"For as much as Benedict Bridgerton and Y/N Ashbourne have consented together in holy wedlock. I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together."

Benedict's breath hitched, his eyes locked on yours. His thumb caressed your ring and his eyes darted down to your lips. He has a new wife and the urge to kiss her is not new but old as wine that has grown from many years ago. He leaned closer and saw you doing the same. The anticipation was making you want to laugh, or cry, or do anything.

The Vicar's voice stopped everything "God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favour. Go ahead, son"

You laughed and felt his lips on yours. Soft and sweet, gentle and strong, passionate and tender. You wanted more, so much more but the church erupted in a cacophony of sounds. Benedict kept his lips on yours for a single moment until both of you broke it and saw your family chirping and clapping. You felt your cheeks hurting with the smile and looked over to Benedict's side. The Bridgertons were loud, and the Ashbournes were a bit more restrained, still, everything felt right.

You signed the registry with your Maiden name and you left with all the ton for the celebratory meal that was held in your extensive garden. The sun proved content of your endeavour of the day.

"Do you think I can take this?" you asked Benedict who closed the carriage door where you to where been transported

"It is not our honeymoon yet, love"

"Ha" you squirmed "I was agonizing a bit there"

"Lovely to hear so"

"Nooooo" you tried to kick him with your foot but couldn't "It is tight"

"I know" he chuckled

"And it is itchy"

He drew his brows together "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" you asked in return and saw him stretching -or trying to- his legs "oh" you giggled and turned pink "Our ceremony gave you that much pleasure?"

"Blame me if you want" he kicked your dress "What is itchy?"

"The dress"

"Ah. I believe you can change"

"No you can't," you mother said once you arrived at the party "Everyone must see the best things you have to wear"

"Is this the best?" you asked her "I thought I told Madame Delacroix to use silk and not whatever this is"

"I changed orders"

"B-"

"Here come the Fifes, smile"

What a party you thought. You were bowing like a mad woman in hysteria and still, you could not take a piece of that cake covered in buttercream. An hour later you were finally joined by Benedict who was walking around respectively with his mother.

"I want to leave" he professed

"Not yet, I need cake"

"And we shall dance too, open the dance floor”

“I’m hungry”

“I drank only water today”

You arched a brow at him “Who are you?”

“A married man… Mrs Bridgerton”

The sole mention of your new name made your heart beat to its extreme, your core twitch and your mouth curve.

“Mrs Bridgerton” you repeated “Mrs Bridgerton is hungry”

“Mrs Bridgerton should wait because Lady Danbury is coming” he circled your arm and 30 minutes later you left the talk in order to dance with him.

You had to give it to you two that when social rules came into place you were loyal followers -pretenders-. You danced the opening waltz with pose and grace and then invited the rest to join. You danced with your father, with Anthony, Colin and Gregory and joined Penelope in a small corner only to catch up; weirdly Eloise did not join.

When your feet felt like fire, you were directed outside by your ladies. Your mother gave you a kiss on the cheek as a farewell and your father followed. You waved to everyone at the entrance and proceeded to enter the carriage decorated with tulips and garlands, Benedict was last giving a handshake to Anthony and kissing Violet's cheek.

"Pfffff" he sighed as his body landed in front of you "How about that?"

"I didn't know weddings were like this?"

"Regretting it?"

"Not a second" You looked outside as everyone waved goodbye and so you waved for the last people to see "Still, I didn't get to e-" but you were cut with Benedict holding a plate full of cake slices "Cake"

"I know, I saw you" he chortled "You were getting annoyed for the lack of cake"

You shrugged "I'm hungry" and you took the plate "Thank you"

"Not a problem, just give me some"

Between eating the cake without cutlery and dampening your fingers in the buttercream you asked "So, what is the plan?"

"I thought you would tell me," he noticed your face and smiled "No, don't worry I managed it. Anthony helped me" he took a piece of cake and soughed at the taste "We will travel for the honeymoon"

"Where?"

Benedict smirked in silence "Somewhere"

"A honeymoon should not be a surprise"

"Let's make it a tradition then. Your Bridal travels will be satisfied, trust me"

"But now? Where are we heading?"

"Wiltshire"

"Oh, that is nice" you peeked outside the window, "I think we will reach there in no time"

"Hopeful as always"

"What is in Wiltshire?"

"My Cottage"

"I didn't know, what is it called?"

"My Cottage"

"I know it is yours, but what is the name?"

Benedict covered his lips and gulped a smile "My Cottage"

You opened your mouth to retaliate but then read his mischievous grin "Oh, oh! My Cottage"

"Yes"

"What a jest. I like it"

"But it is your cottage now so maybe we can change the name"

"Leave it like it is, I would love to have a conversation with someone about it and get amused with the name"

"That is why I married you" he brushed his lap "You had a good wedding?"

You looked at his blue eyes and widely smiled "Yes. My favourite part was the ceremony"

"Mine too. I never listen to the services but this one, I actually did"

"Lovely" you chuckled

"What?"

"Hmmm?"

"What are you laughing at?"

"I don't know... everything? I can't believe I am married" you tilt your head "I do consider you my best friend"

"Am I?"

"And I remember your mother telling Daphne something about friendship and marriage, the same to Anthony as well so I do know we got this, husband"

Benedict felt a swollen sense of pride and love as you called him for the very first time like that, he pushed the rest of the cake towards you -and you welcomed it all- and observed you as your fingers dipped and grasped the moist cake and how you sighed with each bit.

"I love you" he said and your eyes darted towards him

"We-"

"I don't think I said it, have I?"

"I don't think I said it either" you admitted

"I love you" he nodded, his hand wiped his lips and he chuckled looking outside "I love you, why did I take so long to say it?"

"I don't kn-"

"Because I was a fool"

"Not a fo-"

"I was," he grabbed the plate "I should have said it sooner. And I don't know why I did not. It is a silly excuse but I am so scared of losing you that I was so cautious that I forgot to do the obvious. I love you, Y/N, I have loved you since the beginning"

You blushed and smiled "I know, and I have loved you for the same amount of time"

"Which makes us equal" he murmured and rapidly changed seats, he could not fathom why he should sit in front when he could sit next to you all the time "Hi"

"Hi"

"I can't believe you married me," he stated as his fingers found yours

"And I can't believe you married me," you said in a whisper and leaned forward to kiss him, the lack of cake does not compare to the lack of kisses you have received today, this has been the second one of the day of your wedding. You snorted in irony "The second kiss of the day"

"I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise"

What made him swell with pride too is that he knew how to make you flustered and it made you swell with... anxiety.

Fortunately, the drive was not a bad one at all and you welcomed the hours to talk about the wedding and what My Cottage looks like. The day was still shining with light, with the ceremony being held before noon (as stated by the Crown), the party took three or four hours and the drive was now minutes away according to Benedict.

You felt a pair of hands pushing you, then you felt your head falling backwards and the sensation of falling jolted yourself. You softly winced and heard the shushing coming from above, Benedict was carrying you outside the carriage, he smiled, effortlessly taking your body in his arms.

"Sorry about the head" he whispered "You snore beautifully"

"I do not snore" You tried to get out of his arms but he held you closely "You snore"

But he couldn't banter more with you, his face turned into happiness "Ah, Mr Crabtree, Mrs Crabtree"

"Hhhmm?" you felt your cheeks full of blood, the caretakers as Benedict previously told you and now they are meeting you in such a pose "Let me..."

But he didn't let you as he stopped and greeted them "It is nice to be here"

Mr Crabtree emitted a loud laugh at the bride in his arms "It is nicer to be witnesses of such an occasion, well hello Mrs Bridgerton"

You tried to fight one more time but he kept still "Mr Crabtree, such a pleasure. Forgive me, I am-"

"well introduced if you asked me. Come, let's meet Mrs Crabtree, sure this will bring memories"

"I hope it's not Benedict's first wedding"

Benedict pffff his face at you while Mr Crabtreet roared in laughter "certainly no, from what we know!"

"What a funny lot" Benedict rolled his eyes "Mrs Crabtreet"

The woman's cheeks flustered greatly at the sigh, the tray she was holding was left away from her as she extended her hands towards you and kissed both your cheeks "Welcome, welcome to My Cottage. Mr Bridgerton, Mrs Bridgerton... what a joyous occasion. May I offer you something?"

"Water please, we only had wedding cake for breakfast and lunch"

"Oh dear Lord, I'll fetch something. Mr Crabtreet would you-"

"Give a tour to the happy couple. I am on it"

"I think I can walk" you whispered to Benedict and he shook his head

"What?"

"Let me down"

"Uhmmm?"

"Fine, break your legs"

He smiled "Bets compliment for an artist"

You tried to listen intently to what Mr Crabtree was explaining. You took the tour seriously, from the newly painted faces by the garden, to the "bloody" attic and the silent studio and the other countless rooms within the Cottage... which was not a cottage but an elegant country house.

"Alright" Benedict grunted as he leaned to allow you to stand on your feet "Oh, my back"

"I told you"

"I'm fine"

You turned to Mr Crabtree "Thank you for the tour, I love this place, truly"

"Charming innit?" he laughed "I hope Mrs Crabtree has food ready, you two are pale"

"Come, the sun is setting"

Benedict guided you and he was right, the sun was going down and you followed him around the house to a door that led to a crystal clear room, the walls were covered in windows and you knew this one was a tea room. The small table was filled with food that was very well received. By your second bread with cured meats, your appetite was fulfilled.

"It is late, Mr and Mrs Bridgerton," said Mrs Crabtree with her voice and tray in her hand as she took the empty dishes "I'll show you your chambers"

"Thank you, Mrs Crabtree" Benedict handed you his arm, and as you walked around the staircase you grew -quite quickly- fond of the charming "Cottage". The interior was very well decorated, perhaps not the intricate golden rims the Bridgertons have nor the pastel tones your former house has. You peeked to your right as Mrs Crabtree opened two French doors by the end of the house.

"This is the main suite" she pointed "We haven't discussed where Mrs Bridgerton's chambers will be...?"

Benedict palmed your hand "Oh, in this house we shall only have one bedroom, Mrs Crabtree"

If your mother was present she would get a heart attack and yet Mrs Crabtree smiled and politely left saying she and Mr Crabtree would be by the kitchens.

You and Benedict entered the bedroom, and once again the view was stunning. You could not believe you would stay here, doesn't matter how many days. It was all so... new and overwhelming.

"What are you thinking?"

"Your Cottage is beautiful, when did you acquire it?"

He trailed to the couch by the end of the room "Not so long ago, I think it was after my trip to Italy... everyone there had dainty houses to live in"

"This is dainty?"

"Well, we are in England, I found what was available, you like it?"

"Uhum" you stared outside as the view kept growing bluish with twilight coming "I love it"

Benedict was looking at you and wondered why he was nervous. He was not nervous as he lay with other women and here he was, nervous and shaking like a young frail boy expecting to gain his usual strength to start whatever was supposed to start. Is this early? is this late? do you need the darkness to do it? Are you comfortable? Of course not, you have been complaining about the dress.

"You can change" he coughed and preferred to untie his boots "The dress, I touched it, is somehow itchy"

"Very itchy" you corrected and saw how he removed his boots "I was thinking if... perhaps... is best if we ring the start of our wedding night"

"You want to go to sleep already?" he joked

"I am not going to sleep," you said in a soft tone, Benedict looked up and saw the twinkle in your pupils "I want to ring the start of my wedding night"

His mouth went dry. "Are you nervous?" he asked and stood up

"Very"

"Why? I won't bite, I will be gentle" he lied, oh how he lied

"You have been" you nodded "I must thank you"

"For?"

"I was ill-prepared for this, but with your... expertise, I think I am more nervous because of the idea of doing it wholly"

"No, I thank you, Y/N. For allowing me to corrupt you just a bit"

You giggled "Corrupt me"

"For allowing me to see you before today. It might be not the ideal-"

"I was never one for that. I understand that now"

"Then you have to trust me," he said, his fingers tracing the collar of your dress, his digits lingering on your neck and your pulse. "For God's sake take that dress now"

"Help me then"

Benedict's eyes glazed and he smiled wickedly as his hands began to unbutton the back of your dress. It was a long process, the dress was well done and the buttons were small. The detail was noticed by him, he enjoyed the luxuries of the wrapper, like you said... unwrapping the candy he was about to let melt in his mouth gave him a rush of blood to his groin.

When the dress fell by your feet he took your corset's ribbons and untied it, each loop gave you more air to breathe and when the hard structure left your chest you sighed. You grabbed your petticoat and threw it over your head, Benedict helped you remove the rest.

"I see..." he murmured

You turned around as he pretended to be vexed, you looked down at your pantalettes "Oh... They dressed me"

"Pious"

"Hey"

"I thought I said no more pantalettes, wife"

"Sorry, but from tomorrow-"

He chortled and took a step towards you, his lips kissed your forehead, and then your cheeks "I am pulling your hair, my love. You wear what you want, one more piece of clothing for me to remove won't be a problem" but he pulled apart "Now before we do what we do, I must do something first"

He left the room leaving your chest bare with your stockings and pantalettes. You sat by the edge of the bed and waited for his return, when he did, he was holding something and he hid it behind his back.

"So, the thing is that... I am a man of details"

"I know"

He looked at your chest and took the pillow but he bed and softly gave it to you "Sorry, I must not be distracted for a minute or two"

You smiled hiding your breasts and gave him your full attention "What are you have there?"

"My wedding gift for you"

"Benedict"

"Don't protest"

"Fine, give me"

"It is unorthodox"

"I don't care"

He sat down and allowed his hand behind his back to show. The poetry book, the one you took from Lady Danbury's library.

"I asked you Lady to fetch it for me" he explained and opened it "A curious little book," he said, his fingers took what seemed a cotton cloth cut into the smallest square, a bookmark you thought "Read it all"

"Was it good?"

"Curious" he nodded "Although I found a good one by the end"

"You want to read it to me?"

"You know me well" he left the bookmark by the duvet and licked his lips "This one is called In Her Garden"

"Uhum"

"In her garden, where roses bloom so fair,

I tend with gentle hands, and loving care.

Each petal soft, a whisper of her grace,

In every flower, I see her radiant face.

The lilies pure, like her heart so true,

In every hue, I find my love for you.

The violets shy, beneath the morning dew,

Reflect my steadfast loyalty to you.

As daisies turn to meet the sun's embrace,

So do I seek the light upon your face.

Tulips bright, with colors bold and rare,

Their beauty simple, beyond compare.

So let this garden be a testament,

To love's sweet toil, and time well spent.

For in your service, my heart does sing,

Eternally yours, in every spring."

You were left agape. The poem was touching your soul so that you were sure that if the world ended right about now you will leave it happy in that corner of the bed with that small book by his hands.

"Benedict"

"Did you like it?"

You were tearing up. Your hands were trembling as they held the book and he could only watch you, a part of him wanted to apologize and another part was glad he did.

"So beautiful, it is perfect" You saw the inked words by the end of the book and frowned at the similarity with... "your handwriting" you murmured and opened your eyes in surprise "Did you write this?"

Benedict silently put the cotton fabric on top of the poem and opened the patch.

A dried white tulip.

You raised your eyes to him and understood that it was the tulips you casually gave to him once. You understood that it was not the book that concocted what has been growing between you two. It was always there. He was always there. And it's just beginning.

[luvvixu]

the end

synopsis: the end of your relationship was inevitable. that's why both of you and gojo satoru individually prepare yourselves against the pain and separation of an upcoming divorce. and when that thing came, you suddenly found yourselves trapped inside the circle of your marriage where denial is present, and acceptance is absent. let us all see how the marriage walk through the end.

tags: divorce!au, ex-husband!gojo, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentioned of death, mentioned of trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: here's an almost 8k words of oneshot about gojo marriage again. i've mentioned this before but im taking a very small break and will be back on june 5 with an update regarding to the chapter of mind over matter ff. be sure to check out the announcement!

it was a peaceful morning on your balcony with satoru gojo, your husband for almost two years. you are reading your newly purchased book with your glasses on to help you see the letters.

you take a second peek at your husband who was already gazing at you from the beginning. his gaze was painted with a mixture of sadness and adoration towards you. looks like he had something to say, and you're right, he did have something to say when he mumbles your name.

oh god, you knew where this conversation would be. keeping your eyes bore on him, you fully turned your attention to him and waited for him to speak what's on his heart and mind.

"i think we should file a divorce."

his voice was monotonous and yet you knew it really wasn't, his face also did the same since you also didn't hold one either. your expression still remained calm like he was not asking for a divorce as you closed your book and then put it back on the coffee table.

meanwhile, satoru couldn't read you at this moment because you were quiet, too quiet for his liking. were you so shocked that you couldn't react to his sudden cut of ties? or was it just you already expected this the moment when you woke up?

probably, the most accurate reason and answer was the second one. satoru watches you lean on the seat with your hands clasp on your lap. he also never fails to see the neutral glaze in your eyes.

"if you are wondering why i didn't hold any emotion as you speak, that's because i already reacted a year ago." a sigh escalated from your lips as you removed your glasses also and put it on the table.

"you expected that this day would come?" he said in silence while secretly fiddling with the calluses on his hand—a hidden and canonical habit of satoru whenever he feels anxious and worried.

before this day would come, the two of you got married when both of you were twenty. a young, dumb, and somehow not stupid but definitely reckless who took a big tramp of change among themselves.

satoru was the one who asked you to get married after almost four years of being inside an on and off relationship. that was very fast and very reckless at that time—but of course you agreed because you are a fool to get yourself blinded by your love towards him.

so, the two of you got married and with only some people whom you both held close dearly attended the said wedding. it was simple and civil, but to you, it was your everything. the wedding and this marriage mean so much to you.

your marriage went pretty well in your first few months of being married. both of you got yourself a house with a nice garden that you absolutely adore, you also got yourselves a work almost instantly too. satoru got more missions since he was now a graduate, while you work in your own cafe and occasionally take jujutsu stuff.

things were really fine with heaven as the witness. until one night during your almost first anniversary, you caught him going home around three to four o'clock in the morning with a smell of alcohol and woman's perfume that's definitely not yours. he's really drunk, which was weird because he hates alcohol. you wondered what's the occasion or any celebration that should be celebrated and whatnots, but you can't think of any. so that leads you to silently crying.

you did not confront him about your first suspicion of cheating, you want him to admit it himself, but that doesn't mean you're going to tolerate that piece of shit because for god's sake! there's a fucking hickey on his neck that night, you knew it wasn't yours since you've barely had an intercourse due to both of your busy schedules.

you remember asking him about his whereabouts that night like you weren't aware, but his answer just disappoints you, he told you that he had an emergency mission and needed him in action asap at kyoto around 11pm and it took him some time to finish it. as mentioned before, his answer disappoints you, because your assumption has been partially proven.

satoru was clearly lying about his whereabouts that night but still the cheating allegations were not clear. maybe the seemingly foreign hickeys on his neck was already evidence but you're probably still in denial, so you didn't instantly conclude that he was really cheating with you.

but you still couldn't shake off his illicit affairs. why? because satoru was lying about the emergency mission on kyoto. he wasn't there, you knew that because you were the one who took the mission, not him. satoru actually rejected the mission because he's busy with other matters so you took it yourself without even telling him.

all of these things that are happening leads you back to that day when he proposed to you. it was so sudden that it made you a little bit skeptical. but when you asked him why he suddenly asked you to get married? easy, you didn't know.

however, you had your hypothesis that after geto disappeared and went on his rebellious phase, you let gojo use you to relieve his grief. that is why when you realize that this marriage is meant to not last long, you secretly cry to yourself during your first year anniversary as a married couple.

meanwhile, satoru knew to himself that he couldn't stand a long-term relationship. though he also started to feel bad for making things go very quickly with you, his love towards you is pure and genuine. in fact, he would do anything just to keep you safe and happy. but he wasn't able to do that when you're the opposite of him.

he is selfish and you are selfless.

no matter how hard he tried to change or even make things up for you, he just couldn't do it. there's this invisible dark string that pulls him inside the void of darkness. and he couldn't afford to bring you down with him. the thing that geto did really left a scar, a permanent scar to his chest that creates an inescapable hole that keeps on growing bigger and sucking his life in the process.

while you, you fully commit yourself to him. that's why everything would be pointless for satoru to let himself get hurt just to protect you. because you would literally throw yourself in the fire when he's burning.

it was like the two of you are a magnet with the same pole. you can't attract each other no matter how hard you try to let them collide.

back to reality, your head was faced downward. your husband sought for your eyes by calling your name meticulously, but you refused. an internal laugh at your pathetic figure rang through your mind, you are laughing at yourself for believing that you are already prepared for this moment, turns out, you're not—you’ll never be.

satoru mumbles your name again. and all of the sudden, you just let out a nod, followed by a small sigh. you let yourself look at him again despite the unnoticed tears in your eyes.

"okay, but let's spend this whole day as husband and wife for the last time. let's do the things we usually do during our free time." you said, and satoru agrees with you almost instantly. he thinks this is the least thing he could do for you before setting each other free.

everything went normal for the rest of the day. satoru takes you out for lunch, visits your favorite cafe for desserts, and even goes to the park where he asked you out to be his wife.

and right now, the two of you are in the cemetery, specifically in haibara's graveyard. the sun was proceeding to its dusk, making the place a bit solemn because of its ambience.

"do you think he'll be mad at my decision?" your soon-to-be ex-husband asked you with his small tired voice. haibara was your bestest friend of all and he actually talked to gojo when he's still alive about his relationship with you. he would like gojo to take care of you and treat you more than you deserve in your entire life.

"i don't think so. haibara only wants the best for us. he's a man of freedom, after all. and yet, how ironic because he, himself, has no freedom during his time in the jujutsu." you answered him as you watched the candle burn itself.

satoru looked at you. "how about you, y/n? are you mad at my decision?" he asked you a bit hesitant.

you just smiled at him and said, "i will answer that later, satoru." satoru nodded at your answer, he understood that you had a lot to say to him later.

after some time, you two decided to go home to your shared apartment. the journey back was fun and relaxing, it was filled with smiles and laughter that will soon vanish as the dawn is coming.

6:00 PM

both of you arrived at home. you helped satoru hang his coat on the raker like you usually do whenever he comes home during winter. this small act is something that would be definitely missed by him dearly, since you will not be around to do it.

"thanks for agreeing to go out with me." you said to him with a smile that almost reached your eyes. the only thing that stops you from giving your bestest smile was the divorce, but you subside because this is your last day as a married couple. you have to enjoy it to the extent.

"that was the least thing i could do for you before…nevermind." he said. satoru was not cheerful enough to make you smile whenever your eyes met. you also noticed that he was downhearted since you visited haibara's graveyard.

though as you were heading in your shared apartment, he was smiling and laughing. guess you didn't overlook him at all and you failed to notice his hidden pain.

you watched him lay down on the couch. "you looked bothered. was it because i didn't answer your question earlier?" you said quietly.

satoru didn't say anything, and according to his vocabulary, silence means yes. you sigh to yourself and take a seat on the same couch where your husband was lying in.

your hand reached out for his face, cupping it as satoru looked at you with his hooded eyelids. those magical six blue eyes are staring at you with known emotion, pain and agony.

"you didn't ask me why i suddenly wanted to get divorce…" he mumbles, nestling his head in your palm.

"you agreed without questioning me. i don't even see you cry about this. why y/n? are you hurting yourself by keeping your emotions inside you?" he continued. the pain in his voice breaks your heart into bits of pieces. satoru looked so vulnerable, his true emotions are showing exclusively for you.

you let out a small but bitter chuckle. "crying is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together, toru." his eyes widened at your answer. a droplet of tears slide down on your palm. satoru was crying, and you let him weep because you knew he's pent up.

"and i'm not mad at you. i also didn't ask you any questions because i know you know what you are doing and i respect your decision." you added.

"although, i admit. i want to bawl my eyes out. i want to scream because my heart is aching for believing that i was prepared for this moment." your breathings started to become shaky also just by watching satoru weep under your touch.

you refused to cry. at least not now.

"but i don't want to ruin this day by crying. i want both of us to savor this moment with smiles and laughter. so that when we part our ways, we wouldn't have any regrets to hold."

"so, satoru…let's continue to spend the rest of our night happily, hmm?" you let yourself smile for him to be motivated to stop from crying. however, he did the opposite. satoru cried even harder.

your hand is being cradled by him. you could feel his tears on your palm followed by his little hiccups. this scene alone in front of was usually enough to make you cry even harder than him. it was utterly heartbroken to see your man cry like this.

"hush, my…" love, that's the word you would like to say but forbids you to do so. satoru also noticed it too and he absolutely hates the feeling of it.

"l-love. call me love. c-call me like you used to call me before. first name basis is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together." he mimicked your words earlier. though it may sound like a joke, it isn't. satoru has been dead serious since the beginning of the day.

"my love…"

"y-yes, my sweetheart?" he responded.

your lips quiver from the overflowing emotions in your chest, but you still refuse to let yourself cry even when you're all by yourself. god, you are hopeless and devastated.

but dear me, it felt so good to hear him call you with endearing words. oh how you wish this kind of moment would last forever. maybe in another life, it would be. only if fate would be kind enough to give satoru to you again, maybe it will and it would be.

8:00 PM

satoru was all alone. his eyes were puffy from crying and stuff. he was such a mess. and if anyone would see, they would probably think that he's a zombie because of how low energy he was.

it took him almost an hour to stop crying. and you declared that this is the first and would be the last time that you would see him cry very hard.

right now, he was currently packing his things as he was about to move out tonight while playing betty by taylor swift. somehow, his mood got even more affected by this song, for every lyric hits him hard and he doesn't know why.

"♪ you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says ♪" the radio sang. a shaky sigh came out from his mouth, he felt like crying again.

“♪ most times, but this time, it was true ♪”

"let me help you pack your things." you suddenly barge inside your onced shared bedroom after cleaning up for tonight. you are also in your sleep wear when satoru looks at you.

“♪ the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you ♪”

you didn't fail to notice that he is listening to one of your favorite artist's songs. a flashback hits you, it was the moment where you persuade him to listen to it with you. now, he has grown invested in their songs.

he mumbles a small okay as he watches you sit down beside him and redo the messy clothes he just stuffed inside his luggage. most of his clothes were luxurious like polo shirts, slacks pants, coats, and his favorite, blindfolds.

your eyes soften when you come across a small pouch that contains hair ties and bobby pins you onced bought for him as a prank. you still remembered the moment he let you tie his messy white locks with colorful pins and he looked so incredibly pretty with it. you couldn't help but to feel yourself getting emotional again.

don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

meanwhile, satoru remained very quiet, for he was staring at the photo in his hand. it was your wedding photo where the both of you are wearing traditional japanese attire. he couldn't help but stare at your smiling face for too long. you looked so beautiful.

the wedding was very simple, but satoru describes it as one of his happiest days, and he is not lying to himself whenever he would say that. because he onced dreamed of getting married to you, and it came true. he also had the same state as you, both on the verge of crying.

"i wonder…would you get remarried someday?" he asked out of the sudden. you shifted your gaze to him and found him staring at your wedding photo. instantly, your eyes went soft.

"i am not sure." you replied silently as you closed his luggage and proceeded to the other one.

your hands momentarily stop working as you stare at them and watch it shake. "but if i do, it would probably take me a decade or so to find another husband to love." you said. but truth to be told, you had no motivation left to find another husband.

"you're twenty-two right now. so like…you'll be thirty plus by then when that happens," he calculated. "how about you? would you consider getting remarried also?" you asked him the same question.

he thinks for a moment before nodding slightly. "probably yes." your heart let out a wince but you tried your best to hide it. those words unintentionally hurt you and cut you deeper than a knife.

"w-well, i just wished good luck for both of us in the future." the crack in your voice didn't go unnoticed by satoru. he was about to reach you but then eventually dropped it. "me too…" was all he could say.

"anyway, do you mind if i ask…where are you staying after this?" you trailed off.

"i'll stay with higuruma for a day before moving out to my new apartment. speaking of that man, i told him to be here around midnight. so we still have four hours to be together." he answered

"...yeah."

10:00 PM

the two of you are sitting on the same seat just like this morning in the balcony. you are wearing your favorite cardigan as satoru was in his coat to fight the cold weather of the night.

all of his things were already packed and ready to leave. soon, you'll be alone and this house will not be lively as usual because his presence will be missed.

both of you refuse to say a word, yet. because you two are scared to have another breakdown that made this marriage even harder to break. especially satoru, he was aware that deep inside him he was not ready to let you go. he was just lying to himself because he is aware that he can heal if he gives himself some time.

"y/n, can i hold you here in my arms?" satoru swallowed all of the bitterness he felt for leaving you just to hold you again, for one last time. you slowly stood up from your and came towards in front of him.

your soon-to-be ex-husband gazes upon you. however, you refuse to meet those warm eyes that you loved the most. satoru slowly pulls you into his lap and cradles you like his greatest treasure, which you definitely is.

when your face hits his shoulder, you couldn't help but to hide your face deeper into his neck. "the place i'm going to stay afterwards is far from here. are you sure you will be okay?" he whispers in your ears.

"yeah, i'll be fine." you nodded solemnly. "i also planned to stop from my work for a while." you added.

"why?" satoru raises his eyebrow. he thought you loved your job as a barista. you enjoyed making coffee and wherever there's extra pastries left in the cafe, you would take it home for him to try it.

"don't worry, i had a lot of fortune that could last for a century. and besides, you even said i had a midas touch, so surviving won't be too hard for me." when your parents died, they left all of their fortune to you. so that makes you an instant millionaire and nobody knows that beside your husband.

satoru gently pushes you to meet his eyes. "i think this moment is perfect to give all of my secrets away. i don't need any perfect lies to hide from you anymore." he tucked the loose hair on the back of your ear, admiring your beautiful frame under the pale moonlight.

he gulped nervously, and for some reason, you're becoming very anxious about what he's going to tell. all you had to do was to wait for him to speak his thoughts out.

"the reason why i want to divorce is to have a new life and forget about the past. that includes you, y/n." though he only started, millions of knives already stabbed your poor heart. your eyes stared at him, a bit widely.

satoru couldn't bear to look at your pained expression, but he forced himself to look at you. so that you would feel his sincerity. "before suguru disappeared, he once told me to choose another path of life. he told me to run away from the jujutsu, run away from my life." he said, almost whispering.

"although, i want you to come with me. but…"

"i somehow got myself involved with the jujutsu too?" you continued it for him. satoru falls silent, so that means yes, it is true.

satoru cups your face. "i'm sorry, y/n. i really, really love you. but this is not the right path for us. you'll get more hurt if you continue to get tangled with me. so, after a lot of thinking and consideration…"

"i became selfish once again. i chose myself over you, y/n."

for the nth time, the walls you have been building around your emotional state are starting to shake once more. you could feel the hot tears building in your eyes.

you will not cry. you will not cry. you will not cry.

"i-i understand…although, you don't have to apologize for choosing what is the best for you. i'm actually glad that you're finally doing it." you plant your palms over his hands on your cheeks, closing your eyes to swallow up those annoying tears.

"i'm such a bad husband, aren't i?" satoru chuckles weakly. what has he done to deserve you like this? your understandment is something that he greatly admires in you. your heart is pure like an angel from above.

an angel like you can't fly down hell with him.

but god, you're making yourself willing to go down with him without any hesitation and that is just completely wrong.

and for the past years, satoru would make a mistake and you are there to correct him patiently. he would always tell himself to make something and make everything up for you. but who would have thought a divorce is the best thing to do?

"to be honest, not at all. remember what i told you before we got married? you are the fire and i'm the—"

"gasoline?"

"no silly, that's a song." your laugh brightens up the atmosphere. satoru smiled at your happy demure, he likes seeing you this joyful.

"you are the fire and i'm the fireman. a fireman would not function completely when there is no fire. meaning, why would i, a fireman, be here if there's no you, a fire." you raised your fingers to help you visualize your point.

"does that make sense to you?"

satoru shook his head. "no."

you snapped your finger. "exactly! you think i'm bad at explaining things, while i think of myself as great at explaining things. that's the same as you thinking you're a bad husband, while i think of you as a great husband."

"..."

"i made you speechless, meaning you agree and i'm great at philosophy!" you boosted yourself by imagining a crowd was giving you a round of applause.

your husband wonders for a moment before cackling a laugh. "that still didn't make sense to me but it brought a lot of comfort to me. thank you, y/n."

"come on! just admit you love my philosophical nonsense." you pouted, hitting his shoulder playfully.

satoru laughed once again, pulling you by waist as he buried his face in your hair. "of course i do. i love everything about you." and he would still do, always and forever.

"i'm going to miss this." you mumbled as you relaxed on his touch. satoru also agrees, kissing your head all over again.

"and i'm going to miss you too, a lot." he said sincerely. the two of you held the longest stare on this day. you just let yourselves drown with each other's enticing orbs.

satoru was the first one to break the record by sighing and rubbing his eyes. the truth is, he couldn't bear to look at you any longer because he could see how broken you looked through your eyes just because of him. instead, he hides his face once more on your neck.

“i'm really, really, really sorry, y/n. i'm so sorry for using you. i’m so sorry for cheating on you. i’m so sorry for hurting you. i'm so sorry for not choosing you again. i'm so sorry for being selfish. i'm so sorry for everything." there it is, again. his hot tears are back and now drenching your shoulder.

"i used you as a getaway from my sins and from the grief that day, y/n. you should've said no when i asked you to marry me, but why did you do the opposite?" his voice became slightly thicker, he's definitely frustrated.

"i did it for love, satoru." you answered without hesitation.

satoru momentarily stopped crying as his breath hitch. "yes, i'm already aware of your true intentions that day. but i still chose to marry you because i love you. i know it sounds so dumb but it's true." you continued.

you could feel his arms around your body tighten, scared of letting you go from nothing. it was like he was begging the gods, if there was one seeing the both of them right now, to let him be delusional and not take you away from him.

"let me ask you this time, do you regret marrying me?" you whispered.

your husband looked at you with unshed tears. "i don't. but i regret that this is the end of us."

why is it always the time where someone would tell their true feelings when everything is falling apart? so if this divorce wouldn't happen, does that mean his word would be forever kept inside him?

"i've always wanted to tell you that i was actually glad that you became my wife. i thought you would be my endgame. instead, you became the reason why i am still here and breathing."

the void of regret is slowly pulling him inside. but you are there to make sure that he would survive the gravitational pull. you just loved him so you will help to let you go.

"i love you, my sweetheart, my y/n, m-my wife..."

12:00 AM

it was quiet, really, really quiet. higuruma was looking at the two of you all over again. his eyes showed sympathy for both of you and he was sad because this is the end for you and satoru.

right now, both of you are staring blankly at the divorce paper on the table. no one was making a first move by signing it.

you let out a sigh, a heavy feeling was buried deep in your heart. your whole body feels so numb and you still haven't cried for today. everything feels so wrong, yet at the same time it feels right. you don't know what to do anymore.

as you recall your conversation with him, you just wished it didn't end and would continue forever. because you know you'll never get tired of hearing his voice, his laugh, and his philosophical nonsense too.

not to mention, you've also dreamed of building a family with him. a mini satoru and mini y/n sounds nice, doesn't it? as your eyes wandered across this apartment, you can depict your children with him running around. god, if you were dreaming, please don't wake up.

"higuruma, can you please just wait for me in the car…? i-i would like to have a final conversation with my wife." satoru suddenly spoke and nanami left without hesitation.

"so this is it?"

"yeah, t-this is the end." satoru chuckles breathlessly. there was like a big chuck on his throat that made him feel suffocating. truth to be told, he doesn't want this to be the end. but again, he has to.

"thank you for giving me a total of the best six years of my life, toru. i mean it, thank you." you counted the first four years of your relationship and the two years of your marriage. playing with your hands to mend the shakiness, it was a constant reminder that only a few minutes left before the surname satoru would be stripped of your name.

"thank you too, y/n. i also had so much fun and love these past six years. thank you for all of the things you have done for me." he said silently.

all this time, you are the only one looking at him because his eyes were focused on the paper in front of him. "good luck on your new path. i wish you the best." you intentionally called his attention.

"you're really staying here in this apartment…alone?" satoru asked you.

you let yourself smile slightly as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "yeah… just in case you feel homesick, this would be a reminder that you still have a home…only if you want to." the air in this room is very thick and it's suffocating you.

"t-thank you, y/n, really." he expressed his gratitude once again.

a nagging feeling tells you that satoru was about to go back on his decision at any minute. and you too would probably go back to your decisions you had set for both of you. it would be more devastating for you if satoru didn't achieve his plans for himself in the near future.

"let's not make higuruma wait."

satoru falls silent. now he was stuck in a madness of a dilemma. in short, he was starting to rethink his decision to the point that he didn't notice he was staining the divorce paper with tears. his hands began to shake violently along with his cries becoming louder any minute.

satoru finally lost his cool as he wailed loudly in front of you. the sound of his sobs made you clench your lip as your chest tightened once more.

you on the other hand, you're trying your best not to slip any tears down from your cheeks. you successfully stopped them from falling this morning, you couldn't afford to cry not because there's only a few minutes left before you would let yourself fall into a pit of sadness.

sensing that neither of you would make a move, you are aware that satoru couldn't bring himself to do it even though he had to. so, you gently steal the paper away from him.

divorce agreement…it read. oh how you despise those two words.

"satoru, i mentioned to you a while ago that the reason why i want to spend this last day as a married couple is because i want us to leave without holding any regrets." you started with your pen touching the paper. satoru's eyes widened, he wanted to stop you from doing it but nothing was coming out from his mouth.

"i can see it in your eyes, you're doubting your decisions." you continued as you wrote your name. in satoru's horror, only your signature is needed and everything would be over for him.

however, you stopped writing. you tapped the table to gather his attention to you. there he saw you smiling dearly at him.

"did you have fun spending time with me this whole day?" satoru knows your intention. you are encouraging him to do what he was supposed to do even if it means leaving you.

"yes…yes i do, i enjoyed being with you." he stuttered. the tears were still streaming down his face and he was using his sleeve to wipe it. you reached for the tissue and gave it to satoru as you watched him wiped his eyes and blow his nose.

"that's good to hear. i also had fun being with you. not only for this day, but the whole time i was with you, i enjoyed it." you grabbed his hands to soothe it by massaging those long and calloused fingers. satoru watches you and eventually becomes slightly calm by your actions.

you inched your lips into his fingers and kissed it delicately just like he used to do with you before. everything went blur to him and only the sound of your sweet nothing was audible into his messy world.

"i know you'll be doing great with or without me. so satoru, put more faith in yourself. this is another big step for us, and i want you to be ready just like i am." you swiftly slide the divorce paper in front of him. but this time, it has your signature on it.

satoru felt like he was being showered by the cold water as he stared at the paper with pure horror evident on his face. you finally did it, so there is no turning back now.

"h-how—when…! when did you sign it?" his voice cracked due to his frazzled emotions firing him repeatedly. satoru reaches the highest point of heartbreak he ever experienced in his life.

"when i gave you the tissue." you whispered weakly. to your dismay tears are only a slip away from your eyes a thousand times today.

"i don't want to sign it. i don't want to! i don't want to leave you anymore y/n!" he yelled. you accepted his lash out with open arms, but you can't do anything anymore. you finally signed the divorce settlement, and this paper wouldn't go if there's no signature of satoru.

you suddenly pull him into a passionate yet heartbroken kiss to shut him up. satoru eventually responds to your kiss, becoming more emotional than ever. while you are busy keeping him in company, you sneakily put the pen in his hand.

satoru felt an object in his palm, he knew you're telepathically telling him to sign the paper but he still refuses to acknowledge it, at least not yet. as he continues to devour your lips, his eyes are still producing salt tears that add more emotions in the atmosphere.

"i could see a bright future ahead of you, satoru." you muttered between the kisses.

"mhmp—you should grab it, please." you continued to deepen the kiss to lure him. but he voluntarily stepped away just to make a counter argument for that.

"but i could lose you if i do that." he whispers solemnly.

"we've already lost each other when we realized that everything was going too fast for both of us." you chuckled bitterly at your statement. "that it why it is time to face the consequences, by setting us free." you added.

"do…do you really want to do this?" he hiccups.

"this is what fate wants us to do." your voice is soothing as hell. it held no grudges nor resentment, just pure calm and adoration towards him.

but satoru still didn't bug and he still doesn't want to sign the papers.

your gaze never leaves him as satoru buries his face on his palm, weeping so quietly that you could almost hear a pin drop. it was getting so hard to watch so you looked away and slowly walked away.

"i am going out for a bit." you mumbled quietly, not waiting for him to reply or look as you walked away with your whole body shaking.

outside, there you saw higuruma leaning on his car exterior. "hey…" you greeted weakly. higuruma looked at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"hey…how did it go?" higuruma asked, his gaze falling on the papers in your hands.

"emotional." you joked.

"so, that's the end now?"

"...yep, that's the end now."

silence engulfed both of you, just your almost steady breathings and his observing orbs burning through your skin.

"never thought satoru could cry harder than he did when geto-san…you know." higuruma said, sighing as he tucks his hands on his pockets.

you nodded. "i know. satoru lost suguru literally, while he only lost me through relationship. he'd become more vulnerable around me, and that scares the hell out of me."

"i, his weakness, has become more exposed to his enemies. i know sooner or later, they would swoon to get me just to make him fall on his knees. we don't want that to happen, i don't want to be a bait nor a cause of his downfall. temporarily or permanently, satoru must not fall, no, not anymore." you continued.

"y/n-san, i hope you would also realize that failures, downfalls, mistakes, and damages are unavoidable, gojo-kun is no exception to all of that." higuruma argues.

"satoru is going to live a good life and have a future that he deserves, so who am i to halt it?” you ignored what he said because you know he was right.

“this is a big step for both of you. i just wished that everything would go well for the two of you.” higuruma smiled at you.

“we will, eventually.” you return the smile and then excuse yourself to go back inside, just to see satoru still crying nonstop.

approaching his figure, you wrapped your arms around his body to console the man. “don't go back to me now, satoru. if you cannot bring yourself to let go, then i will help you.” you whispered into his hair.

satoru pulled away just to look at you with his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m really sorry.” he keeps on apologizing to you, while you just smile at him and wipe the tears in his eyes.

“it's alright, satoru. i already forgave you a long time ago.” you said.

“i can't sign it. i don't want to sign that anymore.” he confessed. a small form made its way to your temple” “but this is for both of us. don't you want to have a brand new start? how can we thrive when we both have shackles on our feet?”

“i-i thought everything was easy. i thought i could l-let you go that easily. but i was wrong. it's so hard to let go of us, y/n. and as much as i would like to do what i meant to do, it's just so hard to see us disappear from our now individual lives.” satoru buries his face on your stomach. your hands immediately made its way towards his hair as tears are threatening you once again.

“it's hard to let you go too, satoru. but it would be harder to see you suffer more when you're here with me.” it was getting late and satoru was still amidst the crisis, but you are determined to get him out of there.

“look at me, toru.” you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. “you’ve still got a whole world to see. so don't you ever get worried about me because i’ll be more happy to see you free without any worries.

“go live a life that you weren't able to do when we were still kids. do what you always wanted to do.”

“and just so you know, i will always love you and you will always have a special place in my home.” you put his hand to your left chest where your heart lies. “here, satoru. you'll always be here.”

satoru pulled you into the tightest hug since it was literally the last and you wouldn't mind. reciprocating the hug, you finally smiled whole-heartedly and it even reached your eyes.

“whatever happens, i love you, y/n. i love you more than anything. i have loved you since the first time i saw you. and i will always love you even if this would be the last time i would see you.” throughout the six years that you two had been together, from boyfriend-girfriend relationship until to marriage—this was the very first time he declared his love to you with so much intensity.

your eyes nearly gave up on how long you've been trying to hold your tears. but you still swore that night that you'll never shed a tear unless satoru is out of the scene because you knew how much effect your crying causes him.

to hide your emotions, you pull him closer and share the last and passionate kiss as two persons who share the same surname are binded by the law. both of you could feel the emotions begin to overflow as things become more sensitive.

you were the first one to pull away as satoru was still crying. cradling his cheeks, you connected your foreheads together and said again, “let's not make higuruma wait any further.”

satoru knew it was time, time for him to finally sign the divorce paper that he's been planning for a month now.

he expected this one too just like you, so it shouldn't hurt, but why is his heart still aching? with a final stroke of his signature, satoru felt so empty. his soul feels like missing and something was taken away from him.

both have done it—a trial away and the marriage will no longer be valid. there would be no mr. and mrs. gojo now because both will live differently.

grabbing the paper with your shaky hands, you turn around at satoru and give him the final hug with a final kiss. “good luck on your new life, satoru. i’ll always cheer for you and support you until the end.”

“thank you so much, y/n. i really mean it.”

and with that, you and satoru shared the same sad smile you could utter at that moment. sure, this night will end bittersweet, but tomorrow is a brand new start.

you watched satoru walk solemnly towards the car. he looked like a ghost wandering around the vicinity without any will to search for the true paradise for him to rest. it really broke your heart that this is the end for both of you.

and with now fully signatured divorce paper on his hands, satoru felt that each step he took, he felt like fainting on the spot because of how devastating he felt.

but you cannot undo everything now. satoru had officially become your sweet memory and a stranger on the street at the same time. just as he was about to go inside the car, you called out for his name one last time.

your ex-husband looked at you with tired, red, and puffy eyes. you let yourself give the bestest smile you could offer at this moment. a smile entitled one last smile before saying a goodbye.

"if we found each other in another world, let me be your wife again!"

satoru's eyes glisten with tears once more. nevertheless, he also offers you the bestest smile he could manage. he is now letting his broken heart go out of your grasp. forcing himself to swallow and accept that in this lifetime, you are no longer his.

but if the two of you would be reborn or somewhere in the multiverse, he would pray that the two of you got the life you onced failed to build, and that was something he would wish for forever.

"of course! and i will choose you this time. we would make a family that we once dreamt of, and i will give you the honor to name our children." satoru yelled back, making your smile widen.

you could finally rest knowing that there would be a lifetime waiting for both of you somewhere in the future. and this time, you are not being delusional because you know it'll be going to happen and you'll make it happen.

"emi!"

"what?" satoru halted his steps to focus his attention on you.

"i want our first born daughter to be named emi." you've actually dreamed of having a child with him, in that dream, her name is emi. it was like a sign to you, so when you woke up, you immediately searched its meaning and found out that emi means blessed.

you are blessed.

both of you definitely feel blessed to have each other.

that being said, you have kept that name for a while now. sooner, you wished that name would be used with satoru's surname entangled to it.

because in this life, it was unfortunate not to use the name emi. you only want to use that name with him and only him. for you lived with him, loved him, and dreamed with him.

but patience is a virtue. you are willing to wait for that dream, for him. time is not a problem to you because you'd be fully patient just for him.

"have a safe journey, gojo satoru. i will be waiting for you in our next lives." you gently bow your head to send your wish for his safety.

with that, satoru enters the car without looking at you anymore. he was afraid that if he looked at you, he might find himself running back into your loving arms again.

"we'll be going now, y/n." higuruma rolled the window and waved a farewell to you.

you just nod at him while you watch the car slowly disappear from your eyesight. sad but true, you will be waking up all alone from now on 'till your thirties.

no more satoru to wake you up with cuddles. no more satoru who would make corny jokes randomly. no more satoru to who would always remind you that you have a husband. just no more satoru gojo—

drip…

a tear, followed by another, and another until it just flows uncontrollably. you are finally a crying-mess. you're letting yourself cry and let your emotions out by a shout of pain escaping out from your lips.

it was all over.

satoru chooses his life over you, and you choose satoru over your life. with your knees planted on the pavement, your hand travels towards your mouth to cover your loud painful sobs.

all of the tears that you had been keeping since this morning, finally had their freedom to flow at your cheeks along with anguish scream that came out of your broken heart.

you finally lost this time.

[a special chapter will be posted soon, so stay tuned and just comment if you want to be added on the taglist for this one — ©luvvixu2024]

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: Grandma's funeral brings out a side of Ms. Sweetheart that Eddie hasn't ever seen, leaving the two of them questioning everything they've built up together.

Warnings: funeral service (I tried to keep it as neutral as possible so it could apply to any religion), mentions of cause of Grandma's death, failed attempt at sex, pretty much all angst sorry

WC: 5.1k

Chapter 10/20

Divider credit to @saradika Harris's note credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers

Eddie can’t remember the last time he went to a funeral. It might’ve been for one of Wayne’s friends, or a distant great-aunt twice removed. He doesn’t even own a proper suit for such an occasion; everything he’s wearing actually belongs to Wayne. He smooths down the creases in his black slacks; the material of anything other than worn denim is foreign against his legs. The elbows of his coat jacket are patched, and he slides his palms over them in embarrassment.

He takes a seat in one of the back rows, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible while the other mourners file in. There’s a pit growing in his stomach as his gaze swoops to the coffin resting at the front of the room. The realization that Grandma was inside was almost too much for him to handle, and he’d only met her a month ago. He hadn’t known her when she was…herself, but he saw glimpses of her now and again. The last time he was over for a Wednesday night dinner, she rested her head on his shoulder as though she’d done it a million times. You’d mouthed sorry, but Eddie had simply smiled and let Grandma stay there as long as she wanted. If he was being honest, he felt special, knowing that she was comfortable with him.

Eddie’s eyes are only drawn from the casket when he sees you walk among your family. He immediately takes note of your face, normally soft and vibrant, now stoic and emotionless. It’s a sharp contrast to your relatives, who wear their grief through bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The hymn playing in the background fades out as a man speaks up at the podium. 

Eddie’s barely listening, keeping his attention on you. He watches your mouth move as you recite the prayers along with the rest of your family, though he’s only half-listening to them. He’s never been one for organized religion, but he echoes the closing statement when everyone else does. 

That’s when you stand up, smoothing down your dress at the back of your thighs, and walk towards the front of the room. You’re clutching a piece of paper in your hand, which Eddie notices is slightly trembling. He locks eyes with you, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and offers the smallest of encouraging smiles. You acknowledge it with a tiny nod in his direction before taking a deep breath and beginning the eulogy. 

“Um, h-hi.,” you start, stumbling over your words awkwardly. You clear your throat and try again. “Thank you all for coming to honor and remember Grandma. It’s evident that she meant a lot to so many people. 

“When I was writing this eulogy, I kept thinking about who she was as a person.” You don’t let your gaze drift from Eddie’s, and you could swear that he’s the only force keeping you from crumbling to the ground in a heap of grief. “For a lot of us, we wonder what ‘big thing’ will define our lives. The occasion that people will remember us by, you know? But with Grandma, there wasn’t one ‘big thing.’ Her life was a series of little kindnesses that she made sure to sprinkle into her everyday life. Like, when I was a kid, my dad broke his ankle. My mom couldn’t leave me home alone, so Grandma drove him to and from the hospital and stayed with him while he waited. She always took care of us. 

“One of my favorite memories is how she would bring me a bouquet of flowers after every dance recital I was in. She’d be waiting for me by the stage door with a big smile on her face, telling me what a great job I did, even if I totally messed up…she was the best. All she wanted was for the people she loved to be happy. 

“And that’s what I associate with Grandma—love. How much I loved her, and how much she loved us. Just a few weeks ago, she was sharing Oreos with the kid I tutor, and it reminded me of how she used to be with me.” At that line, Eddie feels his lip quiver, tears dampening his lashes, and he ducks his head to keep you from seeing him break. This time, it’s more for your sake than his, since you’re leaning on him to remain upright. “I encourage all of you to find the little kindnesses in life, and to be the kindness in someone’s day. 

“Grandma, you are already so missed. I hope you’re seeing the values you instilled in each of us. Rest easy. We’ll take it from here.” The only sounds in the entire room are the heels of your shoes clacking on the floor and sniffling from nearly everyone else in the congregation. You take your seat quietly, bowing your head as though trying to hide.

The rest of the service is a blur of hymns and prayers; nothing, Eddie notes, nearly as moving as the eulogy you gave. He barely notices when the people around him start moving, keeping a watchful eye on you. You’re trying to blend in amongst your black-clad relatives, but Eddie has no problem finding you. He cranes his neck just in time to see your family make a right through the doors, while you pivot left. 

Instinctively, his hands tuck into his pants pocket as he fumbles for his cigarettes and lighter. He has no idea what to say to you, no idea where to even begin. He needs a smoke or three to clear his head before he sees you and stammers out some half-witted acknowledgment of your loss. There’s no time for that; however, because as soon as he steps outside, he sees you sitting on the steps. It’s freezing outside, but your arms are bare, and Eddie can see the prickle of goosebumps lining your skin.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he asks, drawing your attention as he takes a seat next to you. He shrugs off his own jacket, placing it over your shoulders without a second thought. 

You offer him a sad smile, tugging the coat so it covers more of you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until you felt the contrast of his body heat. “Trying to avoid my family,” you admit, placing your hand over Eddie’s. “Could you take me home? I got a ride here from my uncle, but I really don’t want to go out to eat with everyone.” They’re probably arguing over where to get lunch right now, acting as though their matriarch isn’t about to be lowered into the ground.

“You sure?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together in concern. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want to take you away from them or anything.” He can picture the sneers he’ll receive, a pit forming in his stomach.

You remain unfazed to the conundrum he faces. “Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor. I can’t…” your voice catches, so you restart your sentence. “I can’t sit there while everyone’s smiling and laughing. That’s what happens when an old, sick person dies; people don’t even try to hide their relief. I need…I need to be alone.” You tuck your lips inside your mouth, attempting to bury your feelings.

Eddie nods, reaching over to take his keys out of the jacket you’re now wearing. “Yeah, no, I get it. We can get outta here.” He stands up, takes your hand in his to help you to your feet, and leads you to the car as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing either of you need is to be confronted by one of your relatives.

The two of you sit in the car quietly, without even the radio on. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s had a silent car ride; he either has music playing, Harris yammering his ear off, or a combination of both. He keeps his hands at ten and two, internally debating whether or not to rest one on your knee. It wouldn’t be a sexual thing, not even close, but he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. His grip remains steady, the hum of the engine is the only sound.

You take this time to study him, taking in the crow’s feet that line the edges of his eyes, the tiny patch of stubble that he’d missed while shaving, the slight dimple in his chin. You try and turn before he can catch you, and though your efforts are fruitless, he doesn’t quite call you out on it. “Y’good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, smoothing a part of your dress that isn’t wrinkled. “Could you come inside for a little while? I thought I wanted to be by myself, but I really want you to stay.”

You really want him to stay. Not just that you need company, but you want him specifically. The notion sets all of Eddie’s nerve endings alight. “‘Course,” he replies, perhaps a bit too casually to cover up his excitement over the realization that he brings you some form of comfort.

When he pulls into the apartment complex’s parking lot and shuts off the ignition, he takes the opportunity to hold your hand again. It’s so much different than when he held it a few days earlier on your date, when there was an atmosphere of joy and hope. Now it’s like he’s pulling you along, like his lead is what has you placing one heel-clad foot in front of the other.

You unlock the door, accidentally leaving the key within its latch, and Eddie quietly removes it and places it on the table. His fingers ghost your biceps to remove your–his–coat from your body, but you just pull it on farther like a safety blanket.

“Y’want coffee? ‘M gonna put on a pot,” you offer quietly, already heading over to the kitchen. You scoop out a serving of coffee grounds for you, inhaling the hazelnut scent before dumping it into the basket, glancing over at him for his response.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he nods, and you put another scoop in before filling the carafe with tap water. With a flick of the power button, the Black + Decker rumbles and kicks on, and the drip drip drip of coffee fills the room.

You grab two mugs from the cupboard and place them on the counter. “How’d you even find out about the funeral?” 

Eddie walks over, though he feels as though he can’t get close enough. He just wants to hold you tight and never let go, but you’ve put up some sort of barrier that he can’t quite interpret. “Oh, um, I asked Byers. I hope you don’t mind–I tried calling you, but it said the line was disconnected.”

Your cheeks burn. “That was Grandma.” Eddie looks confused–rightfully so–and you elaborate. “The morning that she…she got annoyed with the phone ringing, so when I wasn’t looking, she took the scissors and cut the wire.”

Eddie’s jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. I left the house for a few minutes to get a new phone, and when I came back, she’d fallen asleep and…” you swallow thickly, rummaging through the refrigerator for the tiny carton of half-and-half, “…and she never woke up. First call I made with the new phone was to 9-1-1, but it was too late.” Too late. That’s what the EMTs told you: I’m sorry, but it’s too late. 

“Oh, Sweetheart. My sweet girl…” Eddie’s heart lurches, and he instinctively reaches out to you. One hand lays between your shoulder blades while the other rubs up and down your spine. He’s careful not to let it drop too low, never going past the small of your back. Though you’re pressed flush to his chest, there’s still a strange disconnect between you. 

Despite every urge you have to cling to him, you pull away and shove a teaspoon into the sugar bowl, sliding it towards him on the counter. “S’okay. I mean, it’s not, but…they said she’d had a heart attack. If I didn’t get the phone, I wouldn’t have been able to call for an ambulance anyway.” The dripping of the coffee maker slows as it finishes brewing. “Only thing I could do is go back in time and stop her from cutting the wires, and Melvald’s was all outta time machines,” you joke, but it falls flat.

Eddie frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the countertop. “You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Pretend like you’re alright,” he explains, voice hardly louder than a whisper. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

You feel an anger rising within you, though you’re unable to pinpoint its origin. “I am alright,” you insist through gritted teeth.

Eddie shakes his head, peering at you through his impossibly long eyelashes. “It’s okay to be sad–”

“Don’t you get it, Eddie?” You cut him off with a snap, slamming the coffee pot down so harshly that it almost cracks. “I’m not sad. I’m not relieved. I’m not anything. My grandma just died, and I don’t feel a goddamn thing! It’s like I’m some kind of monster.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He hugs you again, holds you even tighter than before as he kisses the top of your head. “You’re not a monster, ‘kay? I promise you.”

You look up at him, not quite believing his words, but you press your lips to his. He kisses you back gently; timidly even, but you deepen it and graze his tongue with your own. Your left hand weaves its way through his messy curls and your right fumbles with his belt buckle, but you’re unable to unhook the clasp before he steps back.

“What’re you–” His eyes widen and he puts his hands up to avoid touching you, clearly confused by your behavior. If you had the capacity to be honest with yourself, you’d admit that you’re not sure why you’re doing this, either.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, trying to reconnect your lips with his, but he just pulls away again. “Please, I…I need this. I need you.”

“If we sleep together for the first time right now, while you’re like this, you’ll regret it,” he says.

You don’t deny the accusation; instead, you double down on it. “Okay, so I’ll regret it! I’ll feel regret, but at least I’ll feel something!” Your trembling fingers brush against his shirt, trying to grab onto it and bring his body to you, but he turns with a scoff.

“You’d really be okay with that?” There’s unmistakeable anger in his tone, but it’s laced with something more than that; something that sounds more like hurt. “Regretting our first time together?”

“Didn’t we almost fuck on your couch the night we met? You didn’t even know my last name. You barely knew my first name.” Your words are biting, thick with malice. “When did you become so averse to meaningless sex?”

“Meaningless?” Eddie balks, digging his fingernails into his palms until they leave crescent-shaped marks. His lips contort into a perplexed grimace as he formulates a response. “I, um, I gotta go. I’ll call you–”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before, and I’m not falling for it again.” You can’t stop the words before they’re tumbling from your mouth, and you can’t take them back. “Shit, Eddie–”

“Just—don’t say anything else, ‘kay? I’m leaving.” He turns around, digging into his back pocket. “This is for you. From me and Harris.” He tosses a piece of notebook paper, folded into fourths, onto the end table and closes the door with a slam.

You stand there, dumbfounded at what just occurred–mostly at your own actions. When you move towards the paper, you realize that you’re still wearing Eddie’s suit jacket, and you yank it off and throw it to the ground, leaving it in a heap. You open the note and read, vision blurred from the tears threatening to spill over.

The innocent kindness of a little boy is all it takes for you to break down and cry, muffling your sobs in your palms though there isn’t anyone around to hear them. Grandma was gone. You’d chased Eddie away with the same vitriol he’d spewed at you that day at the record store. You’re really, truly alone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chant to no one in particular. You’re sorry to Grandma, for leaving her home alone. You could’ve asked Jess to run out and get a new phone, but you’d needed a break from Grandma’s anger that was always directed towards you. That morning, after you’d discovered the cut phone line, there had been another argument over taking her medication, and she yelled “I HATE YOU!” at the top of her lungs. Then she sat at the table and ate a bowl of cereal like nothing had happened. Instead of taking a deep breath and brushing it off, you’d grabbed your keys and headed to RadioShack. You could’ve driven there, it would’ve made the trip much faster, but you’d decided to walk. The fresh air would do you good, you told yourself, pushing away the full truth of the matter: you’d desperately needed to be away from Grandma. When you got back, she was laying on the couch, and you would’ve sworn she was only sleeping…

You’re sorry to Eddie. Sorry that he’d wasted his time with someone who resorted to dredging up the past as soon as she felt an ounce of anger and rejection. Someone who insisted that he could trust her and then promptly shattered that rapport once he’d let his guard down.

And for a split second, you allow yourself to feel sorry for you. Sorry that you couldn’t even grieve properly without feeling like you didn’t deserve it, because if you were home, Grandma might still be alive. 

You look down at the card one more time, choking out a laugh through your tears at Harris’s offer to share his grandpa. It dawns on you that you’ll either have to stop tutoring him or continue to see Eddie on a weekly basis. Everyone who comes in contact with me gets entangled in my problems, you note miserably. Eddie’s finally getting his life together and I’m fucking it all up. He deserves better than me.

Maybe it’s a good idea to leave Hawkins and go back home, at least for the holidays. You’re not sure what type of celebrations the family will muster up, but it’s better than being alone with your thoughts. And if you never return, that might be best for everybody.

The bell above the drugstore door chimes as Eddie pushes his way in. He smoked out his remaining cigarettes on the drive over, and he’s desperate for another pack. He makes a beeline for the back wall, plucking his usual Camels from the display. “Perfect,” he mutters, though his lungs would certainly disagree.

As he shuffles towards the cashier, he spots a familiar face in one of the aisles. His lurking cowardice screams at him to run away, but he shoves it deep down and talks anyway. “H-Hey, man. How’s it going?”

Jeff turns around, first bewildered at who’s speaking to him, then tensing up when he sees Eddie standing before him. “Can’t complain. Just getting some of these prenatal vitamin things for Viv,” he replies tersely, shaking the bottle to emphasize his statement.

There’s an awkward silence before Eddie speaks again. “Look, um, I’m really sorry about what happened at our last show.” He rubs the back of his neck and winces at the memory. “What I said, what I didn’t say…you’re gonna be a great dad, dude. Like, the best. I was just jealous, but that’s not an excuse to be an asshole.”

“Jealous?” Jeff cocks an eyebrow incredulously, willing Eddie to continue.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, shamefully averting his gaze. “You’re bringing a kid into a stable household, and I couldn’t do that for Harris. I don’t regret having him, of course, but I’ll always feel guilty about the shitshow he was born into.” He taps the pack of cigarettes on his palm, biting his lower lip to shut himself up. “Anyway, I gotta get home—”

“Eddie Munson?” He turns around to see a young woman standing behind him. Her low-cut top shows off the top of her breasts, cleavage pushed up by a bra, and her jeans hug every curve. She purses her pink-glossed lips together in a flirtatious smile.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I’m Lisa.” She says this like Eddie should already know this, and he’s embarrassed to admit to himself that he can’t place the name or face. “We hooked up last summer at the Hideout? In the men’s room?” Lisa lowers her voice seductively to whisper that detail. “I haven’t seen you there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah.” There have been multiple men’s room hook-ups, but he’s not about to play detective to figure out exactly who she is, so he plays along. “The band’s been on a bit of a…hiatus, I guess.” From his peripheral vision, he can see Jeff ducking his head, and his cheeks burn with the truth.

Lisa juts out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout, though Eddie knows it’s all for show. “That’s too bad.” She lets her hand rest on his chest, leaning into him and twirling a strand of his hair around a polished fingernail. “If you’re not busy tonight, I’d love to have you over for drinks and…dessert? Recreate that night at the bar, minus the urinal?”

Eddie moves her arms from his vicinity, putting a necessary space between them. “Um, n-nah. No thanks,” he clarifies. “I’m, uh, kinda involved with someone, so…”

She remains undaunted, a small chuckle escaping her throat. “I can keep a secret. She doesn’t have to know.” She takes another step forward to close the gap, and he’s so goddamn tempted, but he shakes it off. He doesn’t have a clue what’s going to happen between you and him, but he knows he’s not going to sabotage any potential relationship.

“Well, I’ll know,” he retorts, “and I’ll feel like shit about it.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Your loss.” She pivots on one heel and mumbles something under her breath that Eddie doesn’t even bother to interpret.

Jeff looks at Eddie with an amused grin as he shifts his weight from one side to the other. “So, you’re involved with someone?” He knows from what Jess has told him that Eddie went on a date with you a few days ago, but he couldn’t gauge the seriousness of the situation.

“I think so. At least, I was, until about fifteen minutes ago.” He relents and fills Jeff in about everything that happened, from your conversation over steaming coffee mugs, to the amazing kiss you’d shared as snowflakes collected on your eyelashes, to the unexpected confrontation after Grandma’s funeral today.

Jeff sighs, but it’s one of sympathy, not exasperation. “You did the right thing,” he says finally.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeff laughs, punching him playfully on the arm. “I’m serious. And you did the right thing just now, too, with that groupie.” He clears his throat. “Viv’s baby shower is in a couple weeks. Ladies only, y’know, but I could use some help loading all the gifts into the car. And we could grab some lunch beforehand, if you want.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, that would be great. Might have to let Harris tag along, if that’s all right.” He doesn’t want to keep asking Wayne to babysit, no matter how much the old man insists that he doesn’t mind.

“Of course. You know that little man is always welcome.” Jeff says, walking towards the register. “I’ll call you with the details.”

Eddie hesitates, letting his friend pass him by a few paces before he calls out. “Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I do about…” Eddie trails off, unwilling to finish his sentence. He feels absolutely ridiculous having this conversation in the middle of the drugstore, but he’s desperate not to fuck this up further.

Jeff scratches at his stubble with his free hand, contemplating the options as only someone who’s been in a long-term relationship and hasn’t had to navigate the nuances of a fresh relationship in ages can. “Give her some time; a few days, at least. She’s going through a lot. She needs her space, y’know, to figure things out.”

It’s not the answer Eddie was hoping for; patience has never been his forte. He wishes that Jeff would have told him to chase after you, to go get the girl and make sure she knows how much she means to him. But he knows that his friend is right, and he acknowledges his response with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

“See ya around, Ed.”

Eddie unlocks his apartment door, new pack of cigarettes in one hand and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s tucked under the other arm. He doesn’t usually splurge on ice cream, but every romantic comedy cliche has instructed him that it’s the perfect remedy for heartbreak. If that’s even what this is, he thinks, but he knows it’s true. After doing everything in his power to prevent it, he’d allowed you to break his heart. And as he shoves a spoon into the container of Devil’s Food Chocolate, it dawns on him that he’d do it all again.

He’d come to your rescue and pick the lock of Grandma’s bedroom door. He’d sit around the table and eat pizza with you, Harris, and Grandma every Wednesday night. He’d drive to your house with store-brand cookies and watch cheesy Thanksgiving movies with you just to see the smile on your face. He’d take you out for coffee and kiss you in the snow a thousand times over. And he’d go to Grandma’s funeral and drive you home and turn down your offer for sex and break his own fucking heart again and again if it meant protecting you.

He shimmies out of his starchy dress pants and unbuttons his shirt, leaving himself in just a white undershirt and his boxers as he sinks deeper into the sofa. He reaches over for the remote–now that he works when Harris is in school, he rarely has time to watch something that he actually enjoys–and notices the phone’s red flashing light indicating that he has a new voicemail.

He presses play with a clumsy finger on the button, expecting Wayne’s gruff voice or a reminder for an overdue bill. When he hears that it’s you, he sits up straight, nearly dropping his ice cream.

“Hi, Eddie. It’s me. I’m so sorry for what happened earlier. I’m sure you’re probably mad, but I just want you to know…it wouldn’t have been meaningless. It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless.” You take a deep breath. “I’m going back home for the holidays. Um, I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back, but before I leave, I had to apologize for what I said. You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that. Have, um, have a nice holiday. Okay, bye.”

Eddie remains still, a loud silence enveloping the room once the machine relays that he’s reached the end of new messages. He’s dissecting every word you’d uttered, replaying them over and over. 

It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless. 

So you’d felt it, too; that spark much stronger than the usual lust that overcomes him during hookups. And while he’d tried to convince himself that he’d only asked you to cuddle, had you stay over out of post-sex, post-show delirium, he can’t deny the truth any longer.

He’d asked because he felt comfortable around you, like he could hold you forever and whisper secrets that scare him to even admit to himself. Maybe it was because you’d seen Harris’s car seat that night and hadn’t run for the hills, or maybe it was the way you’d kissed him like he was worth savoring. And the morning after, when he’d all but chased you out of the apartment…Christ, you didn’t deserve that.

I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back. 

The ‘when’ he could handle, but that ‘if’ was a weight on his chest. He questions his actions for a moment–should he have slept with you? Showed you how wanted and cherished and safe you were with him? Given your mind a chance to wander from the grief choking it? But Jeff said he had done the right thing, and considering the man was engaged with a baby on the way, Eddie figured he had to know something about women.

You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that.

Is he? He’s certainly a better man than when you’d first met him, but is he actually a great guy? He’d bought you coffee and didn’t fuck you when you were too vulnerable to truly consent–is that what constitutes greatness, or is he just a step above a piece of shit?

And, of course, part of him is angry. Not only because you were so easily willing to use him–although that realization definitely stings–but mostly because you’d thought he’d want to. After everything you two had been through, did you truly believe that he’d be unbothered? That he’d throw away all of that progress just to get his dick wet? Is that how little you think of him? Eddie doesn’t want the answer.  

The ice cream is melting, so he forgoes the spoon and just takes a swig from the pint. He licks the chocolatey residue from his lips before standing up to put the carton in the freezer. Tacked onto the refrigerator is Harris’s picture from Halloween where Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart are holding hands.

He plucks it from under the magnet, staring at it intently. The memory of his son and his uncle asking him about you, that pretty like a princess remark, the unfurling realization that he felt things for you that he’d thought he was incapable of feeling. He never should have taken their ribbings, inadvertently getting his hopes up that there was something there worth pursuing.

Without thinking, Eddie crumples the paper in his fist, crushing the family portrait into a ball. “Shit,” he mutters, placing it on the table and smoothing it out as best as he can. His hands glide over the drawing, rubbing over every crease until it looks good as new and Harris will be none the wiser.

But Eddie knows what’s been destroyed. What he doesn’t know is whether or not it can be smoothed out.

--

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[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 3/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N Note: I was typing away for the next chapter to come, so chapter 4 will be posted tomorrow (it will also be longer too)! Thank you again for all the support and love you've shown me for this series :) Love all you guys!

_________________

Bucky’s POV:

Why’d I think she’d be able to handle an adult conversation as soon as I started getting serious? When will I fucking learn?

I waited until Y/N shut her door before I went back out to the living room. She drove me insane, but I decided to keep up the habit of staying up late for her. 

During one of her drunken nights at one of Tony’s galas, she had revealed that she preferred sleeping when someone else was awake. In exposing her reason why, it made me sympathize with her trauma. 

“It’s like having a night watch. If someone else is aware, I can put my guard down. Not that that even happens often enough, but oh well,” Y/N drunkenly swayed the side of her silk dress from left to right as she watched the people on the dancefloor.

I knew the feeling of never being able to fully settle into sleep or relaxation because you’d seen all the horrors in the world. We knew what lurked out there and the consequences of someone getting the jump on you.

So, from the first night here, I would stay up in the living room until midnight, sometimes later. Like clockwork, soon after 11 pm, she’d startle awake from a nightmare. I could hear her breathing and heart rate thanks to my enhancements, and I may or may not have channeled them into her room, given the nightmares she’d had in the past. 

So far, there were none so bad to the point I had to go in and check on her, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tuned in to her room and checking every night in case the tides turned. 

Even on the nights she frustrated me like tonight and made me reconsider why I was about to talk to her about… this. This chemistry that was starting to feel closer to real than fake. A feeling I can’t seem to shake, and now I’m wondering if I’m imagining it. Especially when she can’t seem to turn off her annoyance for me even when I think we finally have met in the middle to some extent.

Then again, I lead on that I don’t understand her when it’s quite the opposite. Her story is not far from most of the people who are recruited into our team. A form of a hostage situation where her choices were taken, and she was conditioned to serve some sadistic asshole until she was freed by her own doing. At least her own variation of that… Anyone coming from that kind of situation tends to bond easily over the trauma. 

Not Y/N though…

I never start by being rude to someone. I mean, I’ve been told I’m intimidating and can come off as a terrifying giant assassin, but people in the same field who have seen far worse don’t tend to take that personally, considering almost everyone I work with knows my backstory and the reason behind my resting-assassin-face. 

But Y/N, for some reason, was very standoffish with me from the get-go. For the first few months of us knowing each other, she ignored me, left the room when I came in, found an excuse for another partner on missions, and a list of other things that quickly made me believe she wanted nothing to do with me. 

I may have reciprocated her behavior here and there, growing her annoyance with me even though I didn’t know where the annoyance had begun. I couldn’t help it, given the nasty looks and pure irritation that steamed off her when she looked my way.

I think the sentiment behind her feelings towards me still stands. But then her comment tonight, “I don’t hate you,” got to me.

I threw the laptop I had tried to use to distract myself again to the side. The TV was on, but all I heard was the patterned thumping in my chest starting to grow. 

“No. I want to know fucking why,” I grumbled, standing up abruptly and stomping down the hall to the master bedroom.

The door was shut, and from how she looked, she may have already tucked into bed for the night, but oh well. We were going to talk this out. I couldn’t go another day trying to decipher these feelings and confusions. 

I heard a “Jesus!” from the other side after my metal arm rapped three strong knocks in the center of the light sage-colored door. I banged again when I didn’t hear movement to follow up with it. 

“Calm down, Paul Bunyan! No need to chop the damn door down. I was seconds from sleep,” she groaned before the door flung open, and she squinted up at me with the hall light bringing brightness to her near pitch-dark room. “What? What is it?” Before I could start my sentence, she tensed and looked around me vigilantly. “Shit. Did something happen?” 

I shook my head quickly and instantly saw her shoulders go back and the grogginess return. 

“I want to talk.” 

She screwed her eyebrows up at me. “Dude. Seriously?” 

“Seriously, dude,” I replied sarcastically, pushing past her into her room, turning on the light, and hearing a protest I was too annoyed to listen to.

“It can’t wait until fucking morning when my brain isn’t at 2%?” she crossed her arms, watching me from the doorway. 

“Be real. Your brain doesn’t go below 75% even when you’re sleeping,” I answered, knowing the reality of never being able to shut off fully. Being constantly aware and on the edge of your seat, ready to pounce. 

She eyed me since it wasn’t a diss, and I could see her debating whether or not it was a compliment. 

“What do you-” 

“You say you don’t hate me, but it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. From day one, it has felt the very opposite of that,” I cut her off with a harsh laugh at the end, getting right to the chase. 

I’m standing at the end of her bed, arms crossed, and keeping an intense stare on her. Her stance straightens, and she shuffles her weight on her feet, arms mimicking mine. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said in a guarded tone. “What changed?” 

“I can’t go on with this if I don’t know,” I answered honestly, motioning between us. 

“I argue you have to go on with this either way,” she popped a hip, leaning against the threshold of the door frame. 

“Y/N,” I level my eyes at her, and I can see her take in the seriousness in my features. “Just tell me why.” 

She looks at me with a tilt of her head as if considering her options in how she wants to approach this conversation. 

“We just don’t- mesh well…” she says slowly as if trying to sell it, but even she knew she was lying out of her ass. 

“Bullshit. Try again,” I shook my head once and kept my eyes trained on her. 

“Bullshit? You wanted to know-”

“I wanted to know the truth. You’re selling bullshit, and not very well, might I add. Be honest. Now.” 

She huffed a laugh before blinking at me. 

“We’re the same ranking if you’ve forgotten. Therefore, I won’t be taking commands from you, especially with that tone. But since you’re so hellbent on knowing my reasoning, maybe consider how you talk to me.” She took three slow steps closer to me as she spoke. “So ask me again without being a military servant, and maybe I’ll consider staying civil with you.” 

She is one of a very select few kinds of people actually able to intimidate me. Her story was one to compete against mine. Though not many knew all the details since she was adamant about people being in the dark about it, we all knew what she was capable of. Her enhancements, although similar to mine, were not nearly as strong in most aspects. However, that didn’t deter her from being able to take a man quadruple my size down and keep them there.

I knew enough about her brain to know that it was one of the sharpest ones I had come across in my time. Everyone on the team had enough experience in this life to be able to manipulate a lot of situations, but Y/N was the queen of manipulating a situation to work out better for her and her team. It was like she was five steps ahead constantly, and it could be intimidating at times- not going to lie. A strategy someone in our field would think they had down until they saw her ridiculous efficiency at work. Hence, why she was her own kind of weapon for our team.

I give a single nod in acknowledgment, knowing my intensity would be matched and not work in my favor. 

“You say you don’t hate me, and after these few weeks, I’m starting to believe you somewhat. However, our history keeps me from following that hope,” I answer. 

She seems to take something from my confession and lock it in her mind for later use. 

“Our history is complicated,” she replies, looking me up and down subtly and then moving to the side of the bed where the sheets were disturbed. 

I now notice the detail that only one side of the bed was disrupted while the other stayed perfectly made. My own detail to lock away for later. 

“But why? Who said it had to start like that?” My hands go up. She gives me a look like I should know the answer to that and I raise my eyebrows. “You think I’m to blame for our bickering and aimless fights?”

She scoffs, “I wouldn’t say aimless. There are definitely targets to be hit.” 

“Cut the shit.” 

“No shit to cut,” she counters quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg under her and shrugging. 

“I’m trying to have an adult conversation, and you’re acting like an angsty teenager.” I deadpan, attempting to keep the twitch in my eye at bay.

“And you’re acting like a crotchety old man who demands my respect,” she shouts back. “Ever think maybe that could be the reasoning behind our never-ending feuds?” 

“How could I? You don’t talk to me unless you're dissing me, fighting me, or attempting to make me look bad,” I give a large fake smile. 

“Take a fucking hint then, Grandpa,” she enunciates her curse. 

So I do. I backtrack our conversation and come to a conclusion. Maybe it's not an accurate one, but it's an idea nonetheless. 

“You think I demand respect from you? When have I ever told you that you have to have respect for me?” I asked, more confused than angry now- but definitely not low in anger either.

She stares at me, contemplating her answer. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t get into this,” she waves between us minutely, diverting her eyes to the bathroom door on the wall to the left.

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight if-”

“Not much different than most nights. Welcome to the crew,” she huffed, shifting to adjust her blankets over her in an irritated mood. 

“Why are you so against talking this out?” I growl, forgetting all sense of mental clarity and stomping to her side of the bed, aggressively throwing her blankets off her. “Stop trying to go to bed and talk to me like an adult.”

“An adult?” She takes in a high-pitched breath and stands straight in front of me. “You’re the one who just threw my blankets off like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get a cookie after dinner! Sorry to break it to you.” Her finger jabbed into my chest. “But I owe you nothing, Barnes! I owe no explanation. I owe no respect. I owe no reason for how I choose to act around you.” 

I was pissed. Royally pissed, and yet… I couldn’t seem to see past the pure sadness in her eyes. The actual pain that she tried so hard to hide, but in her state- the state I had put her in- she was losing the battle. She was losing it and yet not breaking her eyes from mine, knowing I could see it.

My intensity shriveled slowly as seconds passed, and she didn’t try to fight the tremble on her lip. 

“What did I do?” I asked softly, my hands instinctively coming to her arms, but the touch made her break the eye contact and turn fast, making my hands drop. “Y/N, what did I do?” 

And I meant it. What had I done, and how could I change it?

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies Forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)

afab!reader x Mike Schmidt

pt 1

WC: 3k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character

A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep. 

Enjoy!

tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.

U good?

Miss you. Hope that ur ok.

Wanna hang?

Helloooo?

Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.

You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.

You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.

You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.

Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.  “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.

“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.

Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.

She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”

You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.

As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly. 

He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.

“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.” 

You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper. 

By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him. 

You miss him so much.

Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it. 

But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.

Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.

You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.

You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.

You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.

The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.

You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.

He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.

He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”

“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon.  It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it. 

Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.

Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.

You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.

Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground. 

You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles. 

You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen. 

Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it. 

You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.

You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that. 

You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.

That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over. 

“There was never another girl.”

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Chapter 22

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2k

chapter summary: checking in with Joel 🥰

a/n: chapter 22 is here! we have chapter 23 next week and then the epilogue. keep an eye out on Tuesday or Wednesday next week for something fun 👀 I'll tag everyone on the tag list. 🧡 and thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey), annoying coworkers

Chapter 22

Thursday, December 5 Fifteenth week of the semester

Sometimes Joel couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had he convinced you to talk to him – and gotten past all of the mishaps, misunderstandings, and ridiculous interruptions – but you’d agreed to date him. To be his. Most days it had him walking just a bit taller, shoulders just a bit straighter. He looked like a man who loved his life, and he knew it. (He’d gotten more than his fair share of teasing for it, around his office and at home. And Tess was a menace.)

On this particular day, he was walking to your office to meet you and take you to lunch to celebrate finally reaching the last week of classes. He wondered if the people he walked past could feel the good mood radiating off of him, but shrugged. He was in a good mood, after all. Just last week you and Ellie had joined him and Sarah and Tommy for Thanksgiving in the afternoon, since Ellie’s mom had been at work, and it had gone better than he could have ever imagined. You just fit – in his house, in his life. Ellie and Sarah got along like a house on fire (which was a little worrying, to be honest – those two were going to get up to some mischief, he just knew it). As he’d watched you get into your car around dinner time, off to have a second meal with your sister, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like if you didn’t have to go. If you didn’t have to leave his house in order to go home. If home was right there. With him.

He’d already started trying to calculate when he might be able to ask you to move in without scaring you off. (He’d decided on the end of spring semester. That was enough time right? Four months? Sure. Had to be.)

(If he could wait that long.)

As Joel entered your building, he felt himself start to smile, unable to stop it from taking over his face. Just because he was about to see you again. He was already looking forward to the weekend after next, when finals would be done and you would be done grading. When you would be all his.

He was about to turn the corner to head down the hall to your office when he realized he could hear your voice coming from the hallway, apparently talking to someone. He slowed, trying to figure out if it was a student and if he should wait out of sight for a moment. But then he realized how tense your voice sounded as you asked what the other person wanted. When they responded, Joel started to frown and crossed his arms, leaning up against the wall where neither of you could see him.

“Well, since it seems like you’ll be joining the course committee in the spring, I think we should meet to talk about it more.” Trevor’s voice was unpleasant, as always, but something in his tone made Joel frown even harder than usual. Even though he wanted to laugh, remembering how you’d told him Trevor had been taken off the committee, but didn’t know it yet. You were actually meant to be Trevor’s replacement.

“Trevor, I don’t think that’s nec–” Joel could almost picture you trying to keep yourself from rolling your eyes and this time, he did smile.

Trevor interrupted you. Of course. “No, it really is necessary. You could learn a lot from me, you know, I’ve been on the committee for two years.” Joel tried not to laugh at the absurdity of that suggestion.

“That’s ok, Trevor. I–”

He cut you off. Again. Joel frowned, listening carefully. “You know, you really do need to start pulling your weight around here. If you do want tenure. Some things are more important than teaching, you know. It’s nice and all that the students like you, but that’s not what really matters.” Trevor sounded so haughty as he said it that Joel’s hands clenched into fists without his conscious input. 

“Trevor, I’ve already talked about everything with Claire, and she’s happy with me, so I don’t know what you mean by that.” Your tone had gone ice cold and it made Joel smirk, darkly approving. You tell him, baby. 

Trevor cleared his throat and Joel knew he was probably squirming under your clear disregard. He could almost picture it. “Well. If you ask me, you need to learn more about the politics of surviving in this department and at this school. We really should set up a meeting. I know what’s really going on in this department, you know. If you want to be in-the-know.” It sounded like Trevor was clinging to his haughty tone with both hands, barely able to keep it up.

You sighed, loud enough for Joel to hear it from his hiding place. He smirked again. “Look, Trevor, I really am going to be too busy until after finals, and then it’s the break, I–”

He cut you off again and Joel shifted his weight, annoyed. “Well then we should meet at a different time. You know, it would probably be best to talk over dinner? I–” Joel heard the suggestion but not the rest of his sentence – there was a sudden roaring sound in his ears that took over and urged him forward around the corner before he even realized he was moving. 

Turning the corner, he took in the situation: you, with your back to him, arms crossed in front of you as if to ward Trevor away. Your shoulders looked tense and he could tell even without seeing your face that you were desperate to escape this conversation. 

Trevor, on the other hand, looked almost like he was aiming for predatory, but his demeanor couldn’t quite manage it. He was angled towards you and attempting some sort of one-handed lean against the wall to your left, staring you down. He didn’t look away as Joel came around the corner.

Joel noticed all of this without stopping his forward motion and kept walking until he was right behind you. He wrapped his right arm snugly around your waist as he stepped up next to you. He watched as your shoulders relaxed when he touched you and smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Hey, darlin’, you ready for lunch?” He interrupted whatever Trevor had been about to say without an ounce of regret.

Out of the corner of his eye Joel watched as Trevor suddenly stood up ramrod straight, eyes utterly disbelieving as he swiveled his gaze back and forth between the two of you.

“You– what– that’s not! I–” Trevor actually sputtered. It was very gratifying. Joel squeezed your waist and smiled, wide and disingenuous. 

“Oh! Hello there, professor. Didn’t see you there.” The other man eyed him distrustfully, which Joel supposed was fair.

“Um–” Trevor started to reply, but you cut him off.

“Hi Joel, yes, let me just put my bag down.” You moved to finally step past Trevor towards your office, but suddenly the other man’s arm shot out in front of you, keeping you from leaving. He wasn’t touching you, but only because Joel had kept his grip on your hip and pulled you back a a step. You stared at Trevor quizzically, obviously surprised that he wasn’t letting you leave. “Trevor, what is it?”

“You can’t!” Trevor looked incensed, suddenly. “Um, you can’t date other employees?” He said it like a question, like he was scrambling for an excuse to keep you there.

Joel thought this sounded a bit rich from a man who’d been about to ask Joel’s girlfriend on a (very unwelcome) date. He was opening his mouth to say so when he heard Claire’s voice come from behind Trevor.

“Trevor, that’s not a rule.” She sounded exhausted and spoke with a cadence that made it clear this was a sentence she had said so many times it had its own specific rhythm. “I need to talk to you anyway, it’s convenient to find you here. Come with me to my office.”

She walked right past the three of you with a nod to you and Joel. Trevor gaped after her, mouth wide open. 

“But! But she–” he sputtered, but Claire cut him off. 

“Now, Trevor.” He scurried after her, head down, face red.

Joel turned to you and smiled. You looked shocked, and laughed incredulously as you watched Trevor round the corner.

“Am I imagining things, or was he about to ask me out? In like, the most condescending way possible?” 

Joel started herding you towards your office with his hand on your lower back before he responded. “Pretty sure he was, yeah. Before I interrupted.”

“And thank god for that,” you scoffed. “Why on earth does he want to go out with me? He hates me!”

Joel smiled and shook his head. “Seems likely he thinks that’s flirting.”

The look of utter disgust on your face was very gratifying. Joel stood a little taller in satisfaction.

“Flirting?! He’s horrible to me, all the time. He just told me he thinks teaching isn’t important and was judging me for thinking it is! Just now!” You entered your office and threw yourself into one of your arm chairs. “God, he’s such a prick.”

Joel laughed. “Come on, honey, let’s get to lunch.” You rubbed your hands over your face, but nodded.

“I have to tell Beth about this,” you muttered as you stood and stretched. “She’ll never believe it.”

Joel let his hand come up to rest on your lower back again as you headed back down the hallway towards the doors at the front of the building, and he let himself feel smug when he felt the muscles in your back relax under his touch. 

…

Joel (3:42 PM): You know that professor in her department that everybody hates?

Tess (3:45 PM): the British Lit Prick? yes. and yes everyone does hate him.

Joel (3:46 PM): He tried to ask her out today.

Tess (3:47 PM): 🤣and she turned him down, of course (3:47 PM): please tell me she was mean about it

Joel (3:48 PM): It didn’t even get that far, Claire interrupted. But she looked horrified. (3:49 PM): I walked up just in time to make it clear she was taken, anyway.

Tess (3:50 PM): as she should, he’s a horror (3:51 PM): damn. how big is your ego right now

Joel (3:52 PM): No idea what you mean.

Tess (3:54 PM): sure, Joel (3:55 PM): don’t run into any doors with that big head

Joel (3:57 PM): 🙄

Tess (3:58 PM): at least you can fix it afterwards if you do

Joel (4:00 PM): See if I help you with the crickets, next time.

…

Beth (4:17 PM): nice work with the showing off and being scary in front of Trevor

Joel (4:18 PM): Did she say that?

Beth (4:19 PM): she told me you walked up just in time to stake your claim

Joel (4:20 PM): Damn right I did.

Beth (4:21 PM): 😂well, good job (4:21 PM): wish I could have seen his face (4:22 PM): god that guy is such a prick. I did wonder if this was a gross flirting situation but I was afraid to make it real by saying it out loud

Joel (4:23 PM): He turned a very bright shade of red. (4:23 PM): Now that I know, it’s obvious. I’m surprised it took him so long. (4:24 PM): Apparently they hate him all the way over in the chemistry department.

Beth (4:25 PM): that is the least surprising thing I’ve heard today (4:26 PM): he used to go to the faculty senate meetings and act like his normal charming self. I’m sure at this point it’s everyone on campus

Joel (4:28 PM): I see how he earned his nickname.

Beth (4:29 PM): I might have heard a student use it the other day 👀

Joel (4:31 PM): If the students have it, it’s over. (4:32 PM): Bet it’ll end up on rate my professor and he’ll have a meltdown.

Beth (4:32 PM): it’s what he deserves

...

a/n: everyone hates Trevor 🤷🏻‍♀️ he may or may not be based on a real person 👀

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[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 5 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, mutual pining, SLOW BURN

words: 6.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 5 ► oh, and, my love, did i mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off?

Your train reached Paris at almost exactly eight o’clock in the evening and the rain was pouring. The wedding reception had started at seven, but Jungkook didn’t mind being late, even though the longer he lingered with you on the streets, the more the rain ruined your outfits, and your hair, and your make-up—but not your mood.

“I prefer being late,” he said when the two of you caught a cab from Gare du Nord to the wedding venue in the 8th arrondissement. “Less small talk if you show up when everyone’s already said hello to everyone.”

“I see your point,” you said, sliding over the backseat as Jungkook climbed in after you. “But it’s still rude to be late. Especially to a wedding. Especially when you weren’t even going to come to said wedding at all.”

He gave the driver the address and turned to you, resuming the conversation, because he had a very important point to make, “my grandma used to say that as long as I’m not late to my own wedding, I’m fine.”

You snorted at this, but your expression wasn’t mocking. You remembered his grandmother with nothing but love. Thoughtfully, you replied, “she’s a wise woman.”

“She is, yeah,” he agreed. “She always wanted to go to Paris, by the way. Remind me to call her.”

“That’s nice,” you commented, turning to the window as the streets of Paris passed outside, all in a blur of streetlights, reflected in puddles of rain on the pavement. “I think I’ve always wanted to come here as well.”

This surprised him and he paused in the middle of reaching for his phone. He’d already forgotten what he was going to check on it as he looked back at you again. When he spoke, there were minor notes of offence in his voice.

“You did?” he asked. “You never told me.”

“Yeah,” you said, not meeting his eye—you were far too captivated by the rainy streets outside the car window. They were nothing magical on their own, you supposed, but there was something about them tonight in particular. “I don’t know. It’s not my dream destination, but it’s Paris. Can you say you’ve travelled if you’ve never been here?”

Jungkook thought about it. “Well… I mean—there are other cities, too. Isn’t Paris a bit overrated?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged, still glued to the window. “Probably. I’ve still wanted to see it for myself, though.”

He could tell, as he leaned forward until he was able to see the neon lights from the signs outside reflected in your eyes. The taxi ride should have taken about twenty minutes, but now Jungkook wondered if he’d manage to ask the driver to take a longer route without you finding out.

“In that case,” he said finally, “I’m glad I brought you here.”

You turned to give him a look, but were startled by his close proximity. You nearly bumped your cheek into his when you craned your neck.

Realising—from your widening eyes—that he’d entered far into your comfort zone, he scooted back in his seat. But your heart was already giving orders for explosions to go off in various parts of your body.

You cleared your throat and looked back out the window—not because of the view this time, but because it felt safer this way.

“We would have come here eventually anyway,” you said. “You’re performing at Cabaret Sauvage in less than a month.”

Disappointed by your purposefully emotionless voice and words that took all credit away from him, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Sure. But,” he emphasized, “with me, you didn’t have to wait a month.”

“Okay,” you settled—partially. “Thank you for turning my whole schedule upside down.”

He smirked at the sarcasm. “Oh, anytime.”

In an attempt to conceal your own smile, you returned your attention to the billboards and bright window displays outside.

“So, if not Paris,” Jungkook started again after a minute, “what is your dream destination?”

He wasn’t expecting your reaction to his question to be so severe: you seemed to lean towards the window—away from him—clench your jaw, and focus even harder on the view outside – as if you were trying to transport yourself there, instead of staying here with him.

“Amsterdam, I think,” you replied eventually, in a voice so reluctant and quiet that he wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t literally right next to you.

“Really?” he asked. “I’m assuming it’s not because of weed?”

Smiling somewhat, you shook your head. And then did not elaborate more.

“Anne Frank?” he tried again.

“Maybe,” you said. “But also because of simple things. Not necessarily significant in history.”

Jungkook found himself having to push as if he was trying to find out what your deepest fear was, since you resisted fully opening up. But this was something that, honestly, seemed quite superficial to him, so he was rightfully perplexed.

Still, he asked, “such as?”

You sighed, not having expected—let alone, planned—this exchange to progress that much.  

This felt like the start of a long conversation—capital C. Getting to know each other by participating in obligatory small talk that would soon lead to deep analyses of each other’s darker sides of the subconsciousness.

And the last time you and Jungkook had had a proper conversation about something that was not related to your jobs in the slightest, was months before you broke up.

So, it wasn’t that Jungkook was being invasive with his questions right now. It’s that he was personal. And he’d stopped caring about being personal with you long before your relationship ended.

“Like riding bikes in Canal District,” you answered finally—he was glad to hear it, although he did not like the way you sighed as you spoke. As if this conversation was a hassle. Fortunately for his overthinking, you continued, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since my uncle went on a business trip to Amsterdam when I was seven. He’d brought me so many postcards, I could easily imagine myself having been there with him.”

Jungkook stayed quiet. He remembered your uncle—your mother’s brother. He was a surprisingly caring man, even if he looked like he ran the mob.

And Jungkook remembered the postcards, too—you had them pinned to the bulletin board above your desk in your dorm room back in university. He wondered, briefly, why you’d never mentioned the story behind the postcards before. He’d always assumed you just liked the pretty views on them.

Sitting next to you in the taxi, he counted something under his breath.

“We’re going to have,” he started, then calculated again just in case, “three days off in Amsterdam.”

“I know,” you said, sitting up straight in your seat as the taxi took a turn past Palais Garnier. “Believe it or not, I didn’t plan it like that.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” he teased. “Should we go bike riding in Amsterdam?”

You turned away from the window to look at him, surprise evident in your lifted eyebrows. “Us, two?”

He nodded. “Us, two.”

“On your day off?”

“On my day off.”

Not hiding your skepticism, you licked your lips and told him, “Jungkook, you spend your free days getting wasted with your friends.”

Although that was a fair statement – he had to admit that much – he still tried to defend himself, “that—that’s not something I have to do every single time.”

“It’s not?” you asked. “Then why do you do it?”

“Because I usually have nothing better to do,” he replied. His honesty was amplified by his body language: eyes cast low, hands intertwined on his lap.

He hoped you wouldn’t misunderstand—he wasn’t trying to imply that he preferred his friends to you. Or to anyone else, for that matter. Truly, if you would have called, he would have abandoned everyone else in a heartbeat. But he was more comfortable keeping that to himself.

“And riding bikes sounds better than getting drunk?” you asked instead, the question laced with persistent disbelief.

“Riding bikes in Amsterdam,” he corrected, choosing to avoid the mention of you doing it together, “sounds better.”

“Okay,” you said, still not convinced. “You talk now, but let’s see if you change your mind when we’re back on the road.”

“I won’t,” he insisted with newfound confidence. Despite his assuring tone, his gaze still scanned the mat on the floor of the taxi. “I promise I’ll take you bike-riding in Amsterdam.”

Even more surprised now, you waited until he lifted his eyes to meet yours before you repeated, “you promise?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug—but the nonchalance was pretend. His hands were tightly pressed into each other on his lap, because otherwise he would have been reaching for you. “Cross my heart. I’ll take you bike-riding if it kills me.”

The exaggeration finally got you to laugh. “Why would it kill you?”

Your laugh had broken the spell. He felt himself relax as though something heavy had been lifted off of him, and with you laughing next to him, he was as light as the air around you. Nothing could crush him.

“You never know with bikes,” he replied, smiling, too. “I’m just saying, I’ll make it happen for you.”

After a detour down the Champs-Elysées under the tiny compact umbrella that you’d packed (it was still so beautiful with all the lights around—even more so in the rain), you finally arrived at the wedding, which was already in full swing.

It took the newlyweds a good fifteen minutes to notice you and Jungkook, but you wouldn’t have blamed them if they didn’t approach you at all.

As soon as they did, however, you immediately tried to apologise for being late—both, tonight and in general, considering that the two of you were only added to the guest list for the wedding a few days ago. But Kihyun and Chloé cut you off, both joking that they were just glad you made it here, because they had thought you’d gotten lost in Paris.

“I sort of wish,” Jungkook replied, casting a meaningful glance your way—you pretended not to see it. “But no time to get lost when we have an important wedding to get to.”

Your friends smiled at this, accepted your congratulations, and, instead of returning to the rest of their guests, actually stayed to catch up with you—as if this wasn’t their wedding. As if you were back in university, eating ice cream on the quad benches with all of your mutual friends, and fighting off the campus pigeons.

You had to admit, seeing Kihyun and Chloé again was very nice. You’d always considered them Jungkook’s friends more than your own—all three of them had graduated from the same major, even though you had quickly become Chloé’s class-skipping partner—but they were the one pair of his friends that you’d always approved of and, eventually, befriended, too.

Seeing them newly married, however—while you could still remember that one almost tragic double-date that you’d tried to go on, where Jungkook and Kihyun nearly broke their necks, racing on Vespas—now that felt overwhelming.

“You’re right on time, by the way,” Chloé said to you while the two boys discussed Rated Riot’s upcoming tour dates, seemingly attempting to make plans to meet up again, after the pair would return from their honeymoon. “I was just about to toss the bouquet.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Come on,” she grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from Jungkook.

You glanced back at him for help, but he only grinned at you, like he’d done so many times before, when you’d go to parties together and he’d force you out of your comfort zone, because he knew you’d thank him for this later.

You weren’t sure if you’d be grateful for it this particular time, though, as you found yourself in a crowd of bridesmaids and very drunk guests within fifteen minutes of arriving at this wedding.

You looked around and, with a sudden start, you recalled the reason why you were here in the first place.

Bending your neck to take in the people around you, you tried to guess which person in this wedding, could have been the hypothetical ex that you still didn’t think really existed.

There was no one who could have been it.

You’ve met most of the people here before and none of them looked particularly eager to talk to Jungkook or to avoid him. Everyone was indifferent—except you, as you kept looking back at him to find him already watching you every time—and that was the final confirmation.

There really was no ex.

You had no idea why he’d brought you here.

Distracted by your thoughts, you chose to just stand in the middle of the crowd. As you tried to avoid having your feet stepped on, you brought a hand through your hair. You liked crowds at concerts. You didn’t like crowds of very determined wedding guests.

Never having caught a drumstick or a single guitar pick at any of the concerts you’d gone to in your whole life, you felt rather stupid standing there. And the significance of catching the bride’s bouquet was lost on you, too—you’d never believed in the prediction that whoever caught it would be next to walk down the aisle: your mum had told you she’d caught it three separate times, and she had barely been married once.

You heard Chloé count down backwards from three and you extended your hands above your head; more as a protective instinct than anything else—to avoid getting smacked on the head.

By some harrowing chance, almost as soon as Chloé’s countdown finished, you felt the stems of flowers against your palm and clutched at them, reflexively. You heard claps and excited cheers around you before you registered that you’d caught the bouquet.

Lowering the classic, white rose combination, tied with a neat, pale bow, you swallowed and looked around, unable to conceal your overwhelming discomfort as you listened to earnest applause around you.

This felt embarrassing more than anything else. Irrationally so, of course, but embarrassing, nonetheless: like walking into an empty restaurant and interrupting the conversation of the staff. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you, and there were drunken shrieks of elation somewhere in the room.

You realised as you held the flowers awkwardly—like it was a bomb meant to be defused—that this was why you preferred to work backstage.

“I’m so glad it was you!” you heard Chloé exclaim. You turned to see her clapping her hands as she made her way towards you.

A few women you’d never met hugged you as if you were going to your own wedding as soon as this one was over.

You were frozen with an uncomfortable, twitching smile on your face and only sobered up somewhat when Chloé reached you. She was laughing as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders—in her defence, she tried to fight her amusement, but you looked completely anguished, nearly grief-stricken. It was ridiculously unfitting, and, at the same time, so completely in character for you.

“I’m not entirely sure how this works,” you told her. “Are you certain I’m not supposed to toss it, too? Sort of like a relay race? I saw one of your younger cousins who looked very excited to catch the bouquet, but she had an obvious height disadvantage.”

Chloé clutched you to herself tighter in a comforting manner.

“No, love,” she said brightly. “My cousins are twelve and thirteen, they both can wait for their turn. And I’ll see you at your wedding. Hopefully sooner rather than later? It’s been too long since we’ve last chatted.”

“It has been,” you agreed, “but if we’re only meeting at weddings, then I’m afraid this might be the last time we see each other.”

Laughing again, she rubbed a soothing hand on your back and assured you, “the bouquet can mean whatever you want it to mean. I’m just glad you’re here tonight. And I’m sure Jungkook is, too.”

With another soft smile, she nudged you in his direction and walked away to join her husband. Before you could begin pondering what she’d meant by that, your eyes caught sight of Jungkook, who was still watching you—in a relentless way. Like he hadn’t looked away from you once since you left his side.

You felt almost awkward as you approached him—all of your steps leaden under his watchful eye—but as soon as you were close enough, he grinned and said, “you look like you survived an alien abduction.”

And everything was okay again. For the time being, at least.

About an hour later, you and Jungkook had settled by a cocktail table at the back of the room.

The bride’s bouquet rested between you as you sipped champagne and took everything in: all the couples dancing around you, the kids kicking the balloons, Kihyun and Chloé being unable to stop smiling at each other as he twirled her around to the gentle melody of the wedding band playing Biffy Clyro’s “Many of Horror”.

“I still believe,” rang through the venue as the song went on, “it’s you and me ‘till the end of time.”

You nodded along to the rhythm, tapping your fingers against the table. You’d stopped resisting after your first glass of champagne and allowed the familiar melody to take you back to the days when you and Jungkook passionately screamed the lyrics of this song at each other in your dorm room.

The two of you dancing with each other was a far more violent affair than Kihyun and Chloé’s smooth swaying: your twirling involved a lot more kicking, stepping on toes, and tears of laughter as you eventually admitted your absolute incompetence when it came to dancing. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed very skilled at it—but then, when compared to you, probably even a well-trained rabbit could have danced better.

You smiled fondly at the memory, happy that the bubbles you drank and the long trip you’d taken today made you feel just dizzy enough to look back at the old days without wishing you were there now.

You were glad to be where you were.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was on his third glass. He kept glancing at the bouquet on the table with immense discomfort as he painfully remembered Sid’s words on their first night in Prague: “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

What if Sid was right, then what would he do? Would he get up on stage and perform a fucking love song for you and your new husband? An angsty, yearning love song with a powerful guitar riff—like the ones you liked and the ones he kept writing; the lyrics dripping with all the sentiments that would mean nothing to him, while you married someone else.

I still believe it’s you and me ‘till the end of time

He couldn’t do it. He’d never do it. He’d rather—

“Jungkook,” you said suddenly, your voice catching him off-guard.

“Hmm?” he looked at you, an almost alarmed expression on his face. The descent from deep inside of his mind and back to reality was a painful one.

“I have a question,” you said.

He finished his drink and put the empty flute down on the table. “Alright.”

“There’s no ex,” you said, deciding it was finally time to clear this up, “is there?”

After almost two hours at the wedding—where he hadn’t mentioned his ex once—both of you already knew the answer to this question. But he still graced you with a formal response, because he knew he owed you an explanation.

“No,” he said. “There’s not.”

You nodded, your expression the same as before.

He was relieved. He’d expected a drink in his face.

“So, tell me then,” you continued. “Why did you need me to come with you to this wedding?”

For the first second after you asked this, he thought he could have just admitted it. There was no condition in the bet about revealing the truth to you, after all. And it’s only a bet—it’s nothing significant.

But you were standing in front of him in your dress, the leather jacket that he’d gotten you hanging on your shoulders. You were looking at him with tired, tipsy eyes. And you were smiling—but still trying very hard not to—as you sipped your champagne.

There was a sense of future in the air.

Your future, together.

And the realisation that the bet was significant, despite his efforts to convince himself otherwise, had finally kicked in—he was afraid he wouldn’t just get a drink thrown in his face if he told you. He was afraid he’d lose this future.

“I, uh… I just didn’t want to be here by myself,” he ended up saying. This was, technically, not a lie, either. “I always go to these things alone.”

“Why go at all?” you asked then. “You were pretty definitive when you RSVP’d “no” months ago. I was the one who emailed them both of our responses.”

“Well,” he said, looking around at the waiters, passing out drinks, as he tried to buy time. “I don’t know. I feel different now that I’m in Europe. So close to Paris. I guess I changed my mind.”

As you’ve learned in the past few days, that was his excuse for everything.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, taking a sip from your glass. “Humour me about something else, would you?”

Happy that the waiter was finally close enough for him to reach, Jungkook grabbed another champagne flute from his tray and then looked at you again. “What is it?”

“Why would Sid tell me you were dating someone,” you began, “and then warn me not to let you go to this wedding?”

What a perfectly logical question. Truly, he couldn’t see how the question could have been more perfect.

It was so perfect, in fact, that you could engrave it on Sid’s tombstone after Jungkook killed him.

“You know what? I actually have no idea,” he said and then threw his head back to down the champagne in one big gulp.

He kept the liquid in his mouth for a second—prolonging the time he didn’t have to speak to you, all while you watched him suspiciously—and then swallowed, finally.

“Really,” he added in response to your questioning look. “He’s an enigma.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to describe him.”

He nodded, eager to cement the point he was making. Additionally, he suggested, “maybe he was just jealous.”

You squinted your eyes at him, trying to find the causal relationship between Sid lying to you and Sid being jealous.

You tried to guess, “jealous of—of not going to Paris with you?”

“Of me going with you,” he said.

You picked up your champagne glass again—you weren’t drunk enough to have this conversation. “What?”

He shrugged. “Maybe he has a crush on you.”

Your scoff was almost reflexive, and you were very glad that you hadn’t taken a sip before he had said this. You’ve heard plenty of unexpected things in the span of these past few days; all kinds of manipulations and weak cop-outs – but this one was, by far, the most ridiculous one.

“Maybe he has a crush on you,” you countered, clearly considering this statement to be an accusation more than a compliment.

He snickered at this. “Fair enough. Maybe he does.”

Swallowing, you put your near-empty glass down on the table and gave him a long look.

“So, he just did that to spread chaos?” you asked. “No other reason?”

Jungkook shrugged again. “Nothing else I can come up with.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said calmly and watched him freeze, startled by the bluntness of your words. First, you finished your champagne, then your sentence, “but I’m willing to drop it if this is nothing more than Sid’s game. Tell him to never speak to me again, and let’s leave this at that.”

Jungkook was relieved, and, at the same time, scared to feel relieved. He felt it necessary to say, “I’m sorry Sid did that.”

“Don’t apologise for him.”

“I’m not. The apology is from me,” he said. “I should have made sure he wouldn’t bother you, let alone lie to you—”

“I don’t care why Sid lied to me,” you cut him off. “I care why you did. Why you went along with it.”

He knew he should have seen your question coming, but he chose to pretend he could talk around this topic instead—and that’s why your words knocked all breath out of him.

It was simple: he’d played along with Sid’s lie, because he thought it’d help him convince you to come to Paris with him faster; he’d lied to you to win the bet.

But he hadn’t lied to you when he said he didn’t want to come to this wedding alone. He wanted to come here with you. The bet seemed more like an excuse now—a distraction from his anxiety that he equipped as a pretence to ask you out.

He was painfully aware of this now: he’d always wanted to ask you out again; just one more time. One last first date of your lives.

He realised this, and there was no way he could pretend otherwise, not when his mouth dried up every time he looked at you.

And yet, that seemed even more difficult to admit to you.

Inhaling, he said, “I thought Sid’s lie would get you to come with me.”

That did not feel much like an explanation.

“You could have said that Sid lied and just told me that you changed your mind about going to the wedding,” you said, waving your empty flute around. “You’re allowed to go where you want to. You’re an adult.”

“Well—”

“To a certain extent,” you added, “because, of course, you have your reputation to consider. Yours and the band’s, too, actually.”

“So, you would have just let me leave the tour?” he questioned, doubtful and, honestly, disappointed. Asking for your permission to do something felt childish, but it also felt like you cared. And he really needed you to care.

You remembered his threat about bringing his friends with him if you wouldn’t go, and asked, “would you have gone to Paris alone?”

He looked down. Then, he told you the full truth, “I wouldn’t have come here at all, if you hadn’t agreed to come with me.”

“But I said no,” you said, still trying to make sense of this. “I didn’t want to go. You kept pushing.”

“I really wanted us to go together. That’s why—you know.” He swallowed. “That’s why Sid’s lie seemed so convenient.”

“Why did it matter that we went together?” you asked one more time. “The real reason.”

He didn’t reply right away, because he was too tipsy for this. It was only champagne, he could have easily recited the alphabet backwards if he was asked to. But it was getting difficult to keep up with what he was telling you.

He didn’t want to lie, not anymore, so he tried to only tell you the truth and keep quiet about the things he didn’t want you to know about: like the bet. And, of course, the fact that he had, apparently, been in love with you for ages. This particular realisation had surprised him on the train earlier, and he was the one with the feelings. He couldn’t even imagine how much it would probably shock you if he told you.

You waited, at first; assuming that he needed a moment to gather the courage to explain. But a minute later, your patience ran out.

So, you tried to answer for him—offering an option that wouldn’t be satisfactory enough, but it would be comfortable for you to believe, “just because they’re our friends?”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said, but it sounded like he was just agreeing, because he could tell that this was what you wanted him to say. “We’d known Kihyun and Chloé for so long. So it’s for, um—for old times’ sake, I guess.”

You needed a minute to arrange everything in order in your mind. Everything Jungkook had said seemed convincing enough if you closed your eyes, but it still felt like a half-truth at best.

You knew there had to be a different reason why Sid didn’t want Jungkook to go to Paris—or, perhaps, why he didn’t want you to come with Jungkook.

Not to mention, Jungkook could have convinced you to come to the wedding much faster if he’d told you the truth instead of going along with the story about his “ex”. Of course, that’s assuming that he really did only want to come here to witness your friends get married like he’d said.

But you wanted to believe that what he’d told you tonight was true, because this way, you wouldn’t have to ask any more questions or overthink. And, truthfully, a part of you was afraid to ruin this—whatever this pleasant hum that had gathered around the two of you on the train to Paris was—by interrogating Jungkook further.

Not to mention, you’d outgrown Sid’s silly games and simply wanted peace.

Even though you didn’t speak, Jungkook seemed to read the thoughts in your mind as he chewed on his bottom lip and said again, “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, registering the discomfort on his face. “What for?”

“For the lying and the—well, everything,” he said with a resigned sigh.  “I realise this was a very backwards way to convince you to come here with me.”

“It was. And thank you for owning up to it,” you said. “But next time you try to do something weird, do try to leave me out of it, would you?”

He grinned at this—he couldn’t help it. “Define weird.”

You were smiling, even though you rolled your eyes in response.

“Lying,” you said then. His smile faltered. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but don’t lie to me.”

Solemn now, he nodded. He realised that this gesture alone wasn’t convincing enough and redeemed it by clearing his throat and saying very decidedly, “I promise I’ll make sure Sid doesn’t bother you again.”

“Good,” you said. “Please do.”

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he added. “Despite everything.”

You were about to retort with a dry “you’re welcome”, but decided to take a different route and make him work a little bit. It only seemed fair.

“I don’t think a simple ‘thank you’ will suffice,” you said slyly. He cocked an eyebrow, not having expected to hear the playfulness in your voice. “This was a huge favour, after all. I could have been sleeping on the tour bus right now.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun,” he countered. “I saw the look in your eyes on the cab ride to the wedding.”

“Well, I had to adjust,” you defended. “Can’t exactly sulk the entire time, I’m not a toddler. Unlike some people.”

You turned away as you said this, smirking, while he scoffed, indignant. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

He was instinctively opening his mouth to respond, but only managed to squeeze out an incomprehensible syllable that turned into an impressed tsk.  

“Okay,” he decided then, tongue in cheek. “So, how can I repay this massive favour?”

“I’m not sure you ever will, to be honest,” you played. “But you could start by gifting the newlyweds a song.”

Jungkook glanced back at the platform in the corner of the room that was set up as a stage for the band. The musicians were taking a break and having drinks by the bar right now, so it was empty.

He looked back at you. “I don’t sing at weddings.”

“You used to,” you pointed out.

“Once. They made me wear a suit with a bowtie. A tight, neon yellow bowtie,” he reiterated. “It nearly made me suffocate. I would have died looking like I ran away from a low-budget circus. I’m not doing that again.”

Trying to keep your laughter in—you hadn’t actually been working with Rated Riot yet when they performed at this wedding, but Yoongi kept pictures, and he pulled them out every year on Jungkook’s birthday—you reached over the table to touch him.

“I’ll make this easier for you,” you said as you gently undid the first few buttons of his black dress shirt.

His breath got caught in his throat the second he felt your fingertips brush against the bare skin between his collarbones. It lasted for less than a second, but he was certain your touch had left a mark.

“There,” you said, pulling away. You seemed to have no clue of the revolution you’d started in his chest, which was a wonder. He was convinced his face had passed all the colours of the rainbow in the span of a minute. You continued, “nothing’s blocking your airways now. I’ll even do you one better—you don’t look like a clown tonight. You actually look good.”

Funnily enough, he had fewer problems breathing before you leaned closer to touch him. And before you told him he looked good.

Weakly, he asked, “I assume you have a song in mind, then?”

You nodded. “Chloé once told me she loved this one when she was younger. “As Long as You Love Me” by—”

“No.”

 You were grinning as you finished, “—Backstreet Boys.”

He was shaking his head with enough vehemence for you to feel a soft wind on your face.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the song of choice—other than the fact that Jungkook doubted very much that Chloé had ever mentioned it to you; he suspected you were just setting him up—but he held a personal grudge against it ever since he impulsively performed the song at your birthday party six years ago.

You had already been so drunk at that point, you could only remember glimpses of it all. Fortunately, someone had filmed Jungkook as he was using your floor lamp as a microphone stand when he performed Nick’s part at the beginning of the song. Later on, he’d gotten so immersed that he’d pulled up a chair to perform the dance routine, too.

You still had the video saved somewhere on your cloud storage.

“Your debt will be fully repaid if you include the choreography,” you added now, knowing it wouldn’t convince him. You just needed to say it to see the tips of his ears turn red at the memory.

His lips were pursed as he watched the mischievous glint in your eye. He’d missed it, he realised, even if your teasing was at his expense.

“You don’t think I’ll do it,” he observed. You shrugged—an obvious challenge—and he looked back at the platform again.

“I’m going to need a mic stand and a chair,” he said. Your eyes visibly brightened—he hadn’t seen you this excited in years. Keeping eye contact with you as he walked backwards to the platform, he pointed a finger in your direction. “This is for you.”

You cheered—caught in the moment and in the champagne you’d had tonight—while he climbed on the platform and turned the music that had been playing from the loudspeakers off. It took everyone at this wedding by surprise. They all turned to look.

The musicians seemed largely unfazed, until he picked up the guitar that they’d left leaning against the wall by the platform. They were already about to approach, but Jungkook extended a hand with so much self-assurance that they froze right away.

He said something else—you were too far to hear—and that seemed to relax them. They returned to their drinks and Jungkook, finally, climbed onto the platform.

Admittedly, until the moment he did, you really didn’t think he would actually do it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke, his voice muffled as he tapped the microphone to make sure it was working. You looked back to see the surprised looks on Kihyun and Chloé’s faces. “It’s a very special night tonight, as we know. And I have a very special gift for my friends. Congratulations on the beginning of the rest of your lives together, guys.”

The newlyweds both cheered and Jungkook chuckled lightly. The microphone caught the sound and you felt your heart respond to it in eagerness as it pounded against your ribs.

The second he played the first chords on the guitar, the room seemed to come to life. Some people recognised the melody and rushed to the designated dancing space in front of the platform, their hands in the air—and it felt, for just a moment, like a Rated Riot concert. Others still looked confused, but very entertained by the unexpected turn of events.

“Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine,” he began to sing and it immediately turned into a battle of which one of you two could last longer without cringing, “I'm leaving my life in your hands.”

You lost the battle as soon as Jungkook began the chorus and put the guitar down so he could perform the choreography with the chair—as much as he could, anyway, because the chairs at the venue didn’t fold. Your nose was scrunched, and you couldn’t help shaking your head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

He watched you nearly the whole time—only looking away to nod encouragingly at Kihyun and Chloé, both of whom were dancing in the middle of the room—and his voice was louder, much clearer without the instrument accompanying it.

You’d watched him tear his shirt off on stage at Rated Riot shows, and you’d never had to cover your face. But your hands were on your mouth the moment he dramatically dropped to his knees for that last “as long as you love me” in the song.

His head fell in a theatrical manner as soon as he finished the song, and the room erupted in applause. He thought he could discern your laughter amidst the noise, and he was smiling when he looked up.

It took him a minute to return to you after the performance—people asked for more as he walked past, others were patting him on the back, and some guests, who turned out to have been in attendance at the previous party, gaily informed him that he did “much better than last time”.

His breathing was still heavy when he reached you, exhilarated.

Beaming even before he heard your response, he leaned against your table and lifted an eyebrow. “Well?”

“That might be the best performance that I’d ever seen,” you said. “I’m sure it’ll haunt my dreams. Thank you for that.”

There was enough genuine awe in your voice to make him laugh.

“So, you don’t regret coming here with me, then?” he asked. His eyes were glittering when he looked at you—with excitement, adrenaline, and hope.

“No,” you said. Your soft smile had rendered him completely incapable of looking away from you. “I’m actually glad I came. And not just because I got to see you sing Backstreet Boys in front of everyone.”

Heated suddenly, he said, “that stays between us.”

Even though you’d been looking forward to telling everyone on tour about this, you decided he deserved your agreement.

“Fine,” you said. “But it’s a shame the rest of the world wasn’t able to enjoy this.”

“Hmm,” he lifted his chin. “That was for your eyes only.”

“What about the rest of the guests?” you asked. There was a certain delight in your words that he noticed and quietly basked in.

“What guests?” he replied with a grin. “I said this was for you.”

You were shaking your head, but there was humour in your eyes and on your lips, and his own smile felt like it might cause his cheeks to tear.

There was nothing he wouldn’t have done for you at that moment. He was flushed, and his head was spinning. The entirety of his chest, it seemed to him, had begun to float.

He was happy.

You were still here with him, teasing and laughing. He’d seen his old friends get married, he’d seen them dance. He was about to join his band on tour, about to perform all across Europe.

Everything was going to be perfect. He just had to get this bet over with—quietly—and then figure out a way to expand the cavity of his chest, so it could contain his heart and the thousands of obnoxious, never-ceasing fluttering wings around it.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “the summoning”

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[flowerandblood]

The Pearl and the Sapphire (4)

[ modern! • Aemond x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession ]

[ description: As a representative of a large family-owned gemstone business, Aemond is attending a major jewellery event where jewellery makers from all over the world are exhibiting. One of them is the Baratheon family. Aemond is tasked with focusing on attracting new customers, but his attention is diverted by the youngest daughter of the eminent maker Borros Baratheon. Slow burn, bitchy, possessive and obsessive Aemond, lots of dark angst and sexual tension. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in modern times. The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Series moodboard: Aemond & Miss Baratheon

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

As soon as she entered his room she wondered in her slightly unsober mind what she was actually doing. She watched as he took two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and walked towards the open living room, while she thought strenuously about whether he would add something to her drink if she just went to the toilet for a moment.

She knew nothing about him.

He was a stranger to her.

She was snapped out of her reverie by his low voice, the look in his healthy eye dark and expectant.

"What does he want from you?" He asked directly, without any warning, as if they had known each other forever, and he was her friend to whom she was about to tell her heartfelt dilemmas.

She swallowed quietly at the thought, moving slowly towards the couch and sat down on it. Targaryen immediately sat down next to her, but not too close, allowing her to keep her distance. He poured what was left in the bottle into their glasses, waiting patiently for her response.

With a trembling hand, she opened her clutch bag and took out her phone. She unlocked it and began to read the messages she had received from Cregan.

She swallowed loudly, struggling to hold back tears, locking the screen back, putting the phone again in her purse. She couldn't believe in what she just read, her heart pounding like crazy, her head humming from the wine and stress.

She had spent so many months getting herself together, to accept the fact that he didn't want her, and now he claimed he had changed his mind?

"Question for question." She said abruptly, looking at him tiredly. She recognised that if she was to externalise herself to him, he had to reciprocate.

They knew nothing about each other.

He looked at her intensely for a moment, indecision painted on his face. He was apparently considering all the pros and cons, but in the end he grunted and nodded. She looked down at her hands.

"My ex-boyfriend wanted to be my friend. Months later, when I finally got myself together, he decided he had made a mistake. That maybe we should get back together after all." She choked out with difficulty, reaching for her glass and taking a loud sip from it. She saw that he moved restlessly, playing with his fingers stretched out on his knee, tense. She felt he wanted to say something, but she didn't give him the chance.

"You and the woman you were with at the banquet. Are you two together?" She asked uncertainly, arranging herself comfortably on the sofa, taking a sip of wine, looking at him intently. She saw his whole body tense up, he wasn't looking at her but ahead.

"No." He replied coolly, immediately pressing his glass to his lips.

"Why did you break up?" He asked almost immediately, and she twisted in her seat feeling her heart pounding.

She felt shame.

Why did they break up?

Because she was insufficient?

Because he wasn't ready?

She lifted her legs and tucked them under her thighs, changing positions slightly and sighed quietly.

"He wanted to have some more fun." She said quietly, feeling him give her a sudden, surprised look and move as if he wanted to say something.

"Are you sleeping with her?" She asked suddenly, looking down at her glass, which she held in her hands.

She needed to know.

She needed to know who she was dealing with.

He was silent for too long for her to realise what his answer would be.

"Yes." He said, but there was a kind of withdrawal and uncertainty in his voice that surprised her, as if he really didn't want to admit it.

She looked at him thoughtfully recognising that he was a very insecure man hiding behind a mask of indifference and coldness. She concluded that there was no point in her trying to understand him or his relationship. She opened her mouth wanting to ask at last the question that had been pressing on her lips since she had entered his room.

"Why did you want us to come here?"

He looked at her horrified and went pale, swallowing loudly, twisting uncertainly in his seat, looking away. She pressed her lips together, feeling that they both subconsciously knew answer to this question.

She thought that there was nothing wrong with what they wanted. Since he claimed he wasn't in a relationship with his assistant, and she wasn't in a relationship with Cregan, they were free people.

She looked at him, at his scarred cheek, at his artificial eye. She looked at his jaw, at his nose, his mouth, his hair. He was handsome, he was dark, cold.

She thought he attracted her.

“You can say it. It’s okay.” She said quietly and softly, wanting him to know that she wasn't judging or condemning him, that she appreciated how honest he was with her. She knew what she could count on and what she couldn't and it gave her a kind of security.

She saw him lick his lips nervously and move his shoulders, swallowing hard without looking at her, playing with the glass in his hand.

“I want it.” He whispered almost silently, his lower lip trembling as he spoke the words.

She lowered her gaze at his words, embarrassed, feeling her insides pulsate involuntarily at the very thought of what could happen between them. She lifted her gaze to him and, seeing that he still couldn't look at her, she set her glass down, moving closer to him, sitting on her knees.

She saw him look at her surprised and horrified as she grasped his large hand gently, her thumb running gently over his soft skin. They were both warm from the alcohol and the tension. She saw him swallow quietly, then lean back and set his glass down on the table.

He looked at her as if hesitating, and after surprising her by grasping her face in his hands, he moved closer to her, looking at her with slightly parted lips.

Only now could she see his scar more clearly, his glassy, artificial eye and the healthy one looking at her with a hazy, dark gaze.

She thought she was not afraid of him.

That she wanted to touch him.

When he leaned towards her she moved closer to him, their lips brushed uncertainly, tentatively. They both sighed and kissed again, just as gently, unhurriedly, as if to see if they liked the feeling, his lips firm and warm, tasting of wine. She threw her arms around his neck and he purred into her mouth, emboldened by the gesture.

Only now did she feel that he was much bigger than her, taller even than Cregan, she had the feeling that he encircled her whole person and she felt safe with that thought.

"– I want to taste you –" He whispered and she felt a powerful shudder, her insides clenching helplessly around nothing. "– will you let me? –"

She felt shame at the thought of how much she wanted this.

She couldn't hide what was happening between her legs. As soon as he slipped her underwear off her thighs he could see what his words, his temper and his appearance were doing to her. He touched her leaking entrance gently, watching carefully for her reactions. She shuddered and moaned helplessly, delicate and hypersensitive.

He did what he wanted with her, teasing her clit with his thumb while sinking his finger into her hot entrance once in a while. She breathed loudly, trying to meet his expectations and answer his questions.

"− what made you so wet? − hm? − messages from your ex? −" He hissed, his finger sliding in and out of her with a perverted, sticky click of her own wetness. He tightened his lips as soon as she squirmed at his words, turning her head away, writhing beneath him.

"− answer me −"

"− no −" She mumbled with difficulty, and he hummed under his breath with the satisfaction, leaning between her thighs. She couldn't stand his subtle caresses, she hadn't expected him to be so gentle, the tip of his tongue teasing her entrance and clit, barely slipping in between her folds.

"− I fucking knew it − I knew you would taste wonderful −" He exhaled, pressing his nose against her warm womanhood. His tongue slided suddenly into her swollen, fleshy interior, licking her shamelessly, her hands tightened involuntarily on his hair pressing him closer, a quiet mewling came out of her mouth.

She was horrified at how close she had come to fulfilment, at how easily he had brought her body to such a state.

When she came on his face she lost touch with reality completely for a moment, panting loudly, clenching her eyes shut, the tickling heat spreading throughout her body, loosening her muscles.

She looked up at him sleepily when she heard the sound of fabric being unfastened and saw that his hands were at his zipper, his pupil dilated, his gaze thirsty and hot.

"You still want this?"

She nodded.

She let him carry her onto his bed, his arms holding her gently and tenderly. She hugged his neck and felt a pleasant buzz in her head as he laid her down on the sheets. She swallowed loudly as she watched him put a condom on his swollen, hard manhood and pressed her lips together at the thought of actually doing it.

She felt her insides pulsate again at the thought.

Her heart was pounding like crazy.

He leaned over her, his gaze full of something she couldn't name. It was dark, murky, but warm at the same time, full of affect, although she didn't know why. For some reason she sensed he would not be violent towards her and she felt a momentary relaxation.

"– already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed – how tight and hot you must be inside –" He exhaled, guiding the tip of his cock against her hypersensitive entrance. She opened her mouth, drawing in a deep breath at his words.

Already during the show I was wondering how to get you into my bed.

That's why he was looking at her like that.

She felt a strong shudder pass through her at the thought.

When she felt him inside her she closed her eyes, sighing with effort and relief at the same time. He was big and pulsating, pushing her tight walls to their limits, making it hard for her to catch her breath. He looked at her as if he couldn't believe they were really doing this, his lips parted in an accelerated breath.

They both moaned in surprise at as he began to move inside her, slowly at first, as if he wanted to savour this moment and the feeling of her throbbing, warm walls.

After a moment, his hips began to accelerate, stretching her insides to the limit, pulsing on him with desire. She had already forgotten how wonderfully pleasurable it was, her lips parted in accelerated gasps each time he rubbed the point inside her that made her hot.

"− oh, baby −" He exhaled, speeding up, entering her with a loud, wet slap of flesh against flesh, looking at her with an expression of delight on his face.

She wasn't sure if Cregan had ever looked at her like that.

She felt her insides tighten around his length at that thought, with every thrust he made, the slap of his thighs against her buttocks, it felt better and better, as if she realised that she really did want this.

She wanted him.

She touched his cheek with her palm as he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, deeply, devotedly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"− you like it when someone takes care of you, don't you? − when someone fucks you properly −" He gasped fucking her faster and faster, she felt the whole bed creak beneath them, his hands clenched tightly on her hips, his body focused only on pushing his cock into her again and again.

She felt the heat in her lower abdomen reach its zenith again, a mewling sound erupted from her mouth that was also meant to be a pathetic confirmation of his words, her lips parted wide.

"− I'm gonna cum now, okay? − I'm gonna cum inside my sweet little girl −" He exhaled and she nodded quickly, feeling his words between her thighs, sensing that her fulfilment was rapidly approaching, that just a few more of his movements and she would come again.

"− oh, yes, please −" She mumbled, feeling his hand begin to tease her clit again.

They both moaned loudly into each other's mouths, feeling each other's orgasms, she heard him sigh helplessly as he felt her core clench violently against him again and again, his cock twitching and pulsing inside her in fulfilment.

Looking misty-eyed at his face, at his clenched eyes, feeling his nose pressed against her cheek, his lips trailing over hers, his trembling hot breath enveloping her skin, some part of her regretted that he had to use a condom, that she couldn't feel his semen inside her. She blushed at the thought, panting loudly, embarrassed at the idea.

They stroked each other's faces with their palms, breathing fast and trembling all over, trying to calm each other down, when suddenly someone started pounding on his door with their fist.

"Aemond? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you in there with?" She heard a raised, distraught female voice and looked at him with big eyes, horror on his face, he shook his head quickly, his mouth formed the voiceless words 'be quiet'.

"Aemond!" The woman started pounding on the door and pawing at the handle, she felt her whole body start to quiver, she sobbed quietly. He laid on top of her and embraced her as if he wanted to comfort her and protect her from what was happening.

"You fucking bastard! Are you fucking this little girl? This little slut? God fucking damn you! How could you do this to me!" She heard her angry voice followed by sobs. She herself began to cry hearing it, in her head the words she had spoken.

Are you fucking this little girl?

This little slut?

Why did she feel like a whore if they weren't together?

"What have we done?" She asked in a terrified whisper, feeling his lips pressed against her temple.

"Shhh." He hushed her by stroking her head, she could feel his heart pounding hard.

He was as terrified as she was.

She cried out quietly in his arms hearing her for a moment longer, and then she heard someone in the distance open and close the door loudly.

Complete silence ensued.

She swallowed loudly, his hand steadily stroking her head snuggled into the hollow of his neck, only after a moment did she realise he was still deep inside her.

Seconds later he lifted himself up on his elbows, glancing down at her most likely to see what state she was in. She could see that he was also shaken, both of them looking at each other breathing unevenly.

"You can sleep here if you want. I'll give you my shirt." He said uncertainly and she blinked, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.

He was proposing that she stay with him for the night.

Probably through remorse.

She shook her head and saw that an expression of disappointment flashed across his face, his jaw clenched tightly, his nostrils moved anxiously.

"I can't. I'll be up all night dreading that she's coming here again. I won't sleep a wink." She explained in a trembling voice, wanting him to know that this wasn't about him. He swallowed loudly at her words and nodded, then slowly pulled himself out of her.

She gasped in discomfort and clenched her eyes shut, feeling a sudden chill and emptiness inside her, his hand stroking her cheek reassuringly.

"Shhh. Wait here a minute, okay? Don't go anywhere." He said pulling up his trousers and getting out of bed to disappear into the bathroom a moment later. She sat on his bed only now feeling that her whole body was shaking from stress, her eyes burning from crying.

A minute later he came out of the toilet, a wet towel and a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to her, his hand with the damp material slipped between her thighs. She clenched them, frightened, but he looked at her calmly.

"Let me. I don't want you to leave my room in this condition." He said lowly, and she felt a warmth spread over her heart that she didn't want to feel at all.

She relaxed her hips and felt the warm, wet towel wipe her clean of all her sticky juices, bringing her relief and comfort. She involuntarily took a few deep sips of water from the glass feeling her throat dry up after what had happened.

As soon as he finished he rose and she stood up with him, covering her thighs with her dress, moving on shaky legs towards the sofa to get her underwear, putting it on quickly. She felt him watching her alertly as she picked up her clutch bag and his briefcase of documents.

As she moved towards the entrance, putting on her shoes quickly, he followed her, doing the same as she did.

"What are you doing?" She asked surprised, fatigue, terror and alcohol mixing in her head.

"You don't think I'm going to let her catch you alone in a corridor somewhere after that scene, do you?" He asked coolly, and she swallowed loudly.

She saw him quietly grab the doorknob and open the door silently, leaning his head out, looking around. He nodded for her to follow him and they both started for the stairs, not wanting to wait in plain sight for the lift.

They climbed to her floor and only then did she feel relieved. However, they both froze and stopped in mid-step when they saw her father emerge suddenly from his room, apparently heading for her brother's apartment.

When he saw her, her tear-stained face his brow furrowed in a way she knew all too well, his accusing gaze falling on the Targaryen standing beside her.

"What happened?" He asked expectantly, she could feel her heart pounding hard, she thought she had to think of something quickly.

"Cregan has been nagging me all day and I felt bad during our conversation. Mr Aemond was kind enough to offer to walk me to my room to make sure I was okay." She mumbled being on the verge of crying again, looking at her father pleadingly.

He muttered under his breath and nodded at Targaryen, putting his arm around her and saying 'thank you for your concern'.

Before she entered her room she glanced at him apologetically over her shoulder, their tired gazes meeting for a moment before he turned and started down the corridor in the other direction.

Her father began to question her about what was going on and ordered her to show him what messages Cregan was sending his daughter. Feeling that she needed to somehow make her story credible she showed him textes she had been receiving from him throughout the day.

"Couldn't he finally decide on something? Why is he messing with your head like that? I'll talk to his father when we get back." He said angrily, ignoring her pleas for him not to do so and that they were no longer children in kindergarten. When her father left, angry and shaken, she called Royce quickly.

He was in her room after a few minutes.

He walked in smiling, but seeing her state and her red eyes he immediately furrowed his brow, looking at her anxiously.

"What's wrong? Cregan?" He asked walking up to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, as usual physically showing her his support. She pressed her lips together at his questions.

"Not only that." She whispered with a blush of embarrassment and shame not believing what she was about to say.

"I slept with someone." She mumbled, burying her face in her hands, shaking her head. Her brother threw her a confused yet amused look.

"Well… I told you to have fun. I just hope he didn't hurt you? Do you regret it?" He asked bending down to her level as if to see what the look in his eyes betrayed. She looked at him helplessly, lowering her hands.

"I slept with Aemond Targaryen…"

"WHAT?"

"…and when it was all over his assistant, who he is sleeping with but is not in a relationship with, started banging on our door when she heard us, screaming and crying." She mumbled out quickly on one exhale, wiping quickly the tears that were again flying down her cheeks, her brother looking at her in disbelief. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"I, God, this is totally fucked up. If they're not together then why did she make him a scene?" He asked rhetorically.

"I have no idea! Maybe there's more to her than that though. She was already looking at me at breakfast after I exchanged a few words with him and I'm afraid she knows it's me. That she's going to say something to our father." She said in a trembling voice, Royce pressed his lips together.

"Has she seen you?" He asked uncertainly.

"No, but our father saw me and Aemond when he walked me to my room. He wanted to make sure this woman didn't catch me anywhere. I told him he only saw me off." She explained brokenly, seeing her brother's horrified gaze.

He let out a loud breath, burying his face in his hands as if he felt immense relief. He put his hands at his sides, looking at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Well, my little sister, I see that when you do have fun, you do it with pomp." He said amused and she burst into laughter at his words, somewhat relaxed by the fact that she had told him, that she didn't have to carry this burden alone.

Before bed she took a quick shower, wanting to refresh herself after what they had done. She realised to her surprise, standing under the drops of hot water falling on her body, that she didn't regret what she had done after all.

She couldn't erase his touch, tell herself that it hadn't been pleasant, that it hadn't given her pleasure.

She thought, sighing, that they were both adults, they had done what they wanted, and now their paths would part and everything would go back to normal. She thought she would call Cregan tomorrow and explain to him exactly how she felt, and if that didn't work, she would just block his number for a while.

She came out of the bathroom in her pyjamas and involuntarily reached for her phone wanting to see if Cregan had written anything else. She was surprised when she saw that she had received some direct message on Instagram from a strange account, but it didn't look like spam. She opened it and started reading.

She swallowed loudly feeling her heart pounding.

A.

Aemond.

She felt relieved and hot in her lower abdomen at the thought that he had found her, that he had made the effort just to write her that.

She knew that he must have seen that she had displayed the message and she didn't want him to feel that she was pretending that nothing had happened. She took a long time to respond and deleted and rephrased several times.

She felt a shudder when she saw that he had immediately displayed her message and wondered if he would write anything more. She felt a stab of disappointment when nothing appeared after a few minutes but decided it was still nice of him to write to her.

She shuddered when she heard the sound of a vibration, a notification displayed on her phone that she had received a new message on Instagram. She unlocked her phone with her heart pounding hard, wondering why it excited her so much.

She thought maybe it was because he seemed so withdrawn, dark, silent, and now he was talking to her of his own free will.

She pursed her lips as she read this and swallowed loudly.

He opened up to her.

He talked about his relationship.

She rolled over on her sheets, sitting up, thinking deeply about what she should answer to that. She didn't want to judge him or ask too in-depth questions, but she wanted to understand him.

She finally replied, her heart tightening.

Will this answer upset him? Was she too direct? She flinched as her phone vibrated again.

A short, cold answer. She swallowed loudly, sighing softly, not knowing whether she should write more or not.

She pursed her lips as she read this. Somehow their relationship was as complicated as hers and Cregan's. She wondered if she should advise him something.

She blinked, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Exchange of mutual benefits.

Objectification.

Had he done this to her today to make her go easy on his grandfather's deal and convince her father to sign it?

She swallowed hard at the thought.

He didn't answer her question for a very long time and she slowly started to fall asleep in her bed. She suddenly jumped up when her screen lit up after several minutes.

She pursed her lips as she read the messages that appeared quickly one after the other. She thought he had finished the rest of the wine that was left in his room.

She fell asleep almost immediately after sending the message, the alcohol numbed her completely and made her not wake up until the morning. She flinched when the alarm on her phone started ringing and she turned it off, glancing at the display. She saw then that she had received another message from him.

______

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[kaleldobrev]

Nice to Meet You (1) — Take Me Back Series

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After making a deal to bring you back, Sam doesn't see you until years later when your paths cross during a case

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hi, I just joined Tumblr and came across your blog, it's wonderful! I'd like to make a request, something between Sam and reader. The reader dies and Sam makes a pact to bring her back, but she comes back without remembering him and the hunting life. He thinks it's best to stay away from her. Years later they meet and she falls in love with him all over again, and when they kiss she regains her memory. Do you like it?

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x)

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy chapter one! | I'll be creating a masterlist for this pretty soon | Let me know if you have any theories about what's going to happen next | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Read the Prologue Here

"I honestly can't believe this is happening," you said, your head in your hands. This was the fifth death at your shelter in less than a month, and you were honestly starting to feel like either yourself or the place was cursed. But you didn't know what could have possibly changed within the amount of time you've had this shelter. You've had this shelter for almost four years, and this was the first time that something awful had happened here; the last month being a literal living Hell.

You were particularly hard on yourself when it came to these deaths as they all happened while you were in the building, on your watch; and you felt as if you could have somehow stopped them, but you knew there was nothing you could have done. You've never fought in your life, nor have you ever used a gun, you were completely useless in a fight.

Due to the deaths, many of the teens in the shelter, along with some of the staff and volunteers had been talking about leaving, and it was something that you didn't blame them for. They trusted you, and you felt like you had completely disrupted their trust, despite you not being the cause of these deaths. But they came to your shelter for safety, and safety was something that they were currently not feeling.

There was a knock at your office door, and when you looked up, you noticed your friend Mel in the doorway, slight smile on her face. "Y/N, there are two FBI agents here that want to speak with you," she said.

"Fuck," you mumbled, "the FBI are involved now?" You said, exasperated. "Jesus," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. "Okay, send them in."

"Can do," Mel smiled.

"Really happy Y/N was able to start this place up," Dean said as him and Sam looked around waiting for Mel to come back.

"I am too. It's something she always talked about," Sam said, but he knew that he didn't have to tell Dean that, as he knew just as well as he did; as the both of them could recall numerous conversations in which the three of you would discuss you opening up a place like this.

"Y/N can talk to you now. Her office is just back there. Her name is on the door, you can't miss it," Mel smiled.

"Thank you," Sam nodded.

As Sam and Dean started to walk toward your office door, Sam felt as if his heart was beating a million miles an hour. Dean stopped in the middle of the hallway, stopping his younger brother from walking any further by placing his hand out in front of him. "You sure you're gonna be okay? Look I'll admit, it was a bit of a dick move of me to do this," Dean admitted.

"It's fine, honestly," Sam reassured. "I just want to make sure she's okay...given the circumstances...especially since it's her birthday," he slightly rambled.

"About that, don't even mention that it's her birthday," Dean said. "Because as far as she's concerned, she has no fucking clue who we are and we have no reason to know it's her birthday." Sam was about to open up his mouth to protest, but he decided against it, as there was a part of him that had wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

Another knock came at your door and when you looked up, it was the two FBI agents that Mel had mentioned to you. "Ms. Y/L/N?" the blonde-haired agent asked you.

"Yes, that's me," you replied, getting up from the chair. "But please call me —”

"Y/N," the taller brunette one interjected. You looked at him with a slightly confused expression, and you couldn't help but notice that his blonde-haired partner gave him an almost similar looking expression. "Your name. It's uh...on the...on the door," he slightly rambled, gesturing toward the sign outside of your door.

"Oh my gosh, yes, it is!" You exclaimed, almost slightly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. This last month has honestly been one of the worst months of my life. I’d probably lose track of my own head if it weren’t attached to me.”

Both men gave you both smiles, humoring your joke. “I can imagine,” the blonde agent said. “And I’m sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances.”

“Definitely,” you said. “Oh how rude of me, I don’t think I caught your names.”

“Agents Sam and Dean Campbell, no relation,” Dean said, holding up his badge. He nudged Sam, who appeared to be the more nervous of the two. With that single nudge, Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his badge, flashing it to you.

“Nice to meet you Sam and Dean,” you said, trying to smile again. “Mel told me you two wanted to talk to me about…the deaths here at the shelter.”

“Yes, if you don’t mind answering a few questions of course,” Sam said, giving you a gentle smile, a smile that somehow made you feel at ease.

“Of course. I want to catch the bastard who did these to my kids,” your voice slightly angry. “Pardon my French.”

“All good,” Sam answered, reassuring you.

“We’ve heard worse,” Dean added. Especially from you, he wanted to add.

“Oh I’m sure, considering the line of work you two are in,” you smiled.

“So, Miss. Y/L/N, did any of these victims have anything in common besides the fact that they were all runaways?” Sam asked, his voice genuinely filled with concern.

You shook your head. “Not really. I mean, yeah, they had a few things in common like favorite shows, games. But all five of them came from vastly different backgrounds.”

“Did any of them do or say anything that seemed out of the ordinary before they died?” Dean asked.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Like speak a language you haven’t heard them speak before, draw any interesting looking symbols,” Dean said, rattling these things off as if it were second nature to him.

You raised a brow at his answer, finding it a bit odd. “Um, not that I can think of,” you admitted, sounding a little hesitant and slightly confused. “They were all really, really good kids. They didn't mess with...the occult if that's what you're implying. None of my kids to."

"No, that's not what we're implying at all," Sam interjected.

"Then what are you implying?" You asked, a bit of defensiveness in your voice.

"We're just trying to figure out why these five were chosen in particular," Sam began, his voice sounding relatively calm. "The way they were found and the way they were killed it resembles occult practices."

You sighed. "I'm sorry," you said, your head in your hands again. "I'm just so angry. I don't understand why people would target teenagers. Especially killing them in that way. I mean, who the fuck drains blood like that?"

"That's why we're here Y/N," Sam spoke again, and you raised your head to look at him. "Is there anyone you could think of that might be involved?"

You shook your head. "No. All of my volunteers and staff I vetted myself. All of their intentions are good."

Sam and Dean both nodded. "Is there a way we could get a copy of who was in the building during the time of the murders?" Dean asked.

"Of course," you agreed. "Anything both of you need in order to figure out who did this."

“You know, I was really expecting you to hug her,” Dean said, as the two of them entered their motel room.

“I know how to be professional Dean,” Sam scoffed.

“You know, after this is all over, maybe you could ask her out. I’m sure she’ll say yes,” Dean grinned.

“She’s better off without me Dean,” Sam said opening up his laptop. “Besides, last thing she needs is me lying to her about me being in the FBI.”

“You could always tell her the truth,” Dean suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“That would not be a good idea and you know that,” Sam scoffed.

“It’s not like this stuff is new to her man,” Dean said.

“The deal was, she forgets everything about hunting. That included the whole monsters are real thing,” Sam stated. “Honestly, asking her out again would be too much of a risk.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“What if the demon finds out and she drops dead?” Sam questioned.

“The deal was she forgets you. Doesn’t mean you couldn’t still ask her out,” Dean said. “Besides, you’re fucking miserable without her, and you can’t tell me differently.” The past four years without you had truly affected Sam in ways that he didn’t think, and it was something that not only Dean had noticed, but Jack and Cas as well. Sam didn’t think Dean knew about how he constantly still looks at pictures of you, or constantly listens to the last voicemail you had left him, or how he constantly watches your favorite movies or tv shows over and over again. But these were things that Dean had known about, as he himself found himself reminiscing about things you and him had done together. Inside jokes between the two of you, or how you would help him be his wingwoman on occasion. “I just haven’t seen you happy in a long time.”

“It’s better this way. She’s…she’s not in danger anymore,” Sam said, his voice defeated. He was miserable without you, but you being safe was all that mattered to him.

In the next chapter...

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked her. “I have literally never met Sam or Dean before this.”

“Aw sweetheart, but you have. But, it’s not really your fault for not remembering, that’s what the deal was,” she said.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @fuiabarcelos @foxyjwls007 @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @midorimachisenpaii @sammysnaughtygirl @missscarlettangel @frozenhuntress67 @snakebxtez @crystalandphoebewifey @coldspoons If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 6)

In which Astarion basically says "Murder is okay, but it's not okay to disrespect my wife". A lot of swearing in this one, be warned - also Astarion's bares his claws.

So - ARE YOU READY FOR ANOTHER ONE?? I'm honestly so tired, at the moment, it's doing my job at day, being a fanfic writer and servant to the fandom at night. Which results in poor sleep schedule and eating habits. Didn't even get to keep playing for a few days. But I love all the things happening, all the content people create and people liking my content as well - after all I am just as prone to flattery as Astarion is.

Also I should make a post where I will link all chapters - I will do that probably tonight or tomorrow - depending on how quick writing the next part will be.

You know the drill by now, you can already continue reading on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

Astarion quickly made to take everyone’s drink orders. When Daegin opted to get off his stool and get himself another beer and almost fell off it, Eodin just about caught him and convinced him to take a round of water. So the dwarf complained and made to rest his head on the table.

Before Astarion left for the bar he threw a quick questioning glance at you, with it asking if it would be okay to leave you for a few moments. You nodded slightly and smiled reassuringly at him but in fact you were dreading to be alone with these people even though they were your friends.

When Lira offered to go with him to help carry everything your heart sank even deeper. Closing your eyes for a short moment, you steeled yourself for the words that would definitely be had once Astarion and Lira would be out of earshot. At least they would think that, when you were pretty sure Astarion would use every one of his heightened vampiric and elven senses to not miss a single word.

When you opened your eyes again you saw how Lira practically beamed at Astarion who was much taller than her. She didn’t even reach his shoulders. Lira had always been your closest friend in the group, she was truly a sweetheart – you had wondered how she did make such a formidable thief though since she seemed so honest and soft. You were more than sure Astarion already had a place in her heart, and she would use the moments she had to completely obliterate the vampire with many more questions about him and your relationship. The thought made you smile.

Astarion swiftly and elegantly managed to navigate through the now much bigger crowd to the bar while making sure the much smaller half-elf wasn’t pushed over by anyone in the pretty drunk crowd. You could barely make a step without bumping into people, so he softly touched her shoulder, kept his hand there lightly and motioned her to walk in front of him, so she wouldn’t be elbowed in the face by accident. She was completely oblivious to his show of polite chivalry since she had started bombarding him with questions about himself and Tav.

“Have you been together long? Did you save her like a hero on a white horse and she inevitably fell for you? Wait, you said, she saved you, what happened? Are you staying in Baldur’s Gate? We have to meet again some time, I need to know absolutely everything. You two are such a beautiful couple, Gods, you would have gorgeous babies! Does she make you happy? She seems so happy, I’ve never seen her this happy, you have to take good care of her for me, promise?” Astarion kept softly nudging her to get her to move to the bar while she basically kept walking backwards and blabbering. Since he was also trying to focus on the conversation that no doubt was going on at the table he had just left, he only gave pretty short answers to Lira: “A few months now. Once or twice, no horse needed though, they bite too much for my liking. Much longer story. We are. I’m sure we can. Uhm, thank you.” But the last few things Lira had said and asked made Astarion focus entirely on her. He looked at her expecting face and replied: “She makes me very happy and in a way, I didn’t think I could ever feel. And if I truly make her only a fraction as happy as she’s made me, I can be considered the luckiest man in all of Baldur’s Gate, nay, Faerun. And I’ll promise you I will do anything I can to keep her happy and safe as long as she’ll want me by her side.” The sudden change in tone and sincerity in his words stopped Lira in her rambling. “Wow”, she simply whispered silently and looked at Astarion. Then she suddenly jumped to give him a quick hug. Astarion almost made to step out of reach before her arms went around his waist, but he let it happen. The concept of hugging was still pretty new to him, except with you of course. And since he didn’t quite know how to react correctly in such a situation, he just kind of went to awkwardly pat the adorable half-elf on the back. This was still new, but he was pretty sure that it was nice and warmth filled his chest.

Lira let go off him, seemingly also surprised by her sudden outburst: “Sorry… I’m just so happy for her… and for you too!” She smiled warmly then turned around, since they were finally at the bar. “Soooo – I am certainly invited to the wedding, am I not? Can I be Tav’s Maid of Honor?” Astarion would have probably blushed would that have been possible for him. Did anyone ever make him this flustered in a matter of hours since meeting? Well, you probably, but other than that? He was released from questioning though when the barmaid came over and took their order. As they waited, Astarion decided he definitely liked this one of your friends and decided to be his best polite and interested self and asked Lira to tell him about herself.

You watched the two of them wander off into the crowd. Then you remembered the two rather grim faces in front of you and the one, that was already much too drunk to actually really notice anything.

Eodin had crossed the arms over his chest again, dropping the façade completely: “You have some nerve, Tav.” His tone was bitter. You see Miyena’s lip slightly curve into a smirk. “You disappear for months, leave us with a load of jobs, we can’t finish because we need your goddamn elven ass, since you are the best with sleight of hand and all. Which made us not only miss out on said jobs but also caused us to lose most of our clients, because now we seem to be the most unreliable band of thieves this city has ever seen! And then you reappear with this fucking elven twink and basically let him take you right on the fucking table like a slut!”, Eodin’s voice rises more and more during his rant while Miyena’s malicious smirk grows bigger. At least you can tell who it was who spewed so much venom into his ear. Daegin didn’t seem to react even though Eodin was practically shouting, in fact, you could hear some soft snoring.

You are completely dumbstruck. Had you expected a verbal ass-whooping? Absolutely! Had you expected this? Absolutely not! The feelings of guilt you had for abandoning your friends albeit there hadn’t been anything you could’ve done about this vanished in an instant. His words were pure venom and you could feel rage slowly rear inside you. Being angry about all of this was the one thing but it was the way he said it, especially with the intonation of your and Astarion’s elven heritage and calling you a slut? You were done with the niceties and you started to feel murderous.

You sucked on your teeth and mimicked Eodin’s aggressive stance, looked him straight in the eyes and asked: “Mind telling me, what exactly changed in the past months I wasn’t here? I get being angry and wanting an explanation. What I don’t get is you insulting me and Astarion – who you’ve never met before today, might I add – making a scene here in front of everyone and especially, what specifically makes this about me being an elf?” You saw how Miyena side-eyed him and raised an expectant eyebrow. “And you certainly didn’t think of me as slut, when I jerked you off and you were too drunk to get it up properly! You disgust me!” He winced at the mention of this particularly embarrassing night you had shared, which incidentally had been the last. You were disgusted by the memory. Bile was raising in your throat, making you gag – why did you ever think this guy deserved you at all?

“Well, I thought you weren’t like them – all fleeting attention, mysteries, riddles. I thought I knew you, Tav, I thought you were my friend… and I even thought you were more for some time. I thought you were one of us, so sweet and nice… So… indeed, Tav, what has changed?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Never had your elven heritage made any difference at all, especially since you’d grown up on the city streets and hadn’t had the comfort of a sheltered childhood far off in the woods in some elven enclave. His words hurt. You might’ve never seen him in the way he once wanted you, but he had been a close friend, an understanding friend. This angry and obviously jealous side was not only new but disgusting to you. Your eyes wandered over to Miyena who was still smirking. “Well, for starters”, you said “thinking really ever wasn’t your strong suit. You should leave that to the others. Ah, but seems you already handed that duty over to Miyena here.” You turned to the tiefling and threw her a death glare: “Don’t think I don’t see how you’ve been smirking and side-eyeing Eodin the whole time, you bitch. You always wanted everything for yourself. Go ahead, you can have him, his limp-dick and all loot and coin you get from your jobs, I don’t care.” The tiefling woman looked ready to throw daggers at you. Eodin opened his mouth, now having at least the decency to look the slightest bit guilty, but you lifted your hand before he could speak and continued: “If all it takes for you to turn against me and discriminate me is being away for a few months, then consider everything – our work friendship, our work arrangement – separated. You were always very impressionable, but never would I have thought you were so easy to turn into a hot toxic pile of garbage. Go right on with Miyena, but be careful, she was already eyeing Astarion, because she always wants what others have.” And with that you ended your spiteful little speech.

The man and the tiefling looked at each other for a second, then continued to stare angrily at you. A year back, you ‘d never would have called them out on their bullshit, you had indeed changed. Back then you would have eaten up the shame and would have given in to your strong people-pleasing tendency. But you were done taking the world’s and everyone’s shit and be thankful for mere scraps they threw you, you deserved better than this – something your vampiric soulmate had taught you. “Now, you can fuck off or you can stay and be nice for the night because I don’t want to spoil the evening for Lira and Daegin”, you added when neither of them said anything.

This suddenly seemed to get Miyena and Eodin out of their stupor. Miyena simply hissed at you, when Eodin spat: “Why don’t you fuck off, you and that arrogant elven prick. Who is he really anyway, did you sell yourself off to him as a plaything or mistress or something? You don’t belong…”

A glint of silver and there was a blade at each Miyena’s and Eodin’s throat. Astarion was standing impossibly close behind them both, his arms around each of their shoulders. He’d masterfully had sneaked up behind them. To others, it would have looked simply like a drunken hug from afar – only the two daggers pressing against their necks were distracting from that. “I’d advise you to hold very still or you’ll find out exactly how prickly I can be”, Astarion whispered to them in a voice that was actually rather made for candle light and dark bedrooms, his red eyes were glinting with fury. The tiefling slightly hissed at him but tensed, Eodin just whimpered.

“Now, I really did not appreciate your tone and how you spoke to my partner. But seeing as I was enjoying myself so much tonight, I’m giving you one more chance. You can be nice little puppies now and be polite and graceful for the rest of the evening. And after tonight I never want to see a shred of you again”, he whispered to them hoarsely, his mouth wandering from Eodin’s ear to Miyena’s and back again. The daggers pressed slightly harder against their throats now.

“Or”, Astarion drawled and smiled wickedly “you can fuck off right now, just as my lovely lady here proposed. Choose as you wish but behave or I will splatter you all over the walls.” You swallowed hard, did he have to be this threatening and with that tone in his voice. In a very twisted way, you enjoyed what was happening way too much. Gods, you loved when Astarion became all protective. And something wild and dark in you enjoyed his threatening, predatory demeanor. The softest gasp left your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together – hard. This was not the time to get aroused. Astarion heard though and his eyebrow shot up, his eyes flicking to yours for a split second and his signature smirk found its way back on his lips.

“What will it be now?”, he then whispered to his two captives again “I wouldn’t want to end the night in bloodshed – well, maybe a little.” He grinned baring his fangs and licked over his lips slowly. Eodin turned completely pale and Miyena’s eyes widened.

“Go… let us go”, the man whispered and started to struggle against Astarion’s hold while trying to not get knicked by the knife at his throat.

“Then have it your way”, Astarion sneered and in one swift movement withdrew his daggers, turned them around and pushed them off into the crowd - hard. They stumbled away, bumping into the people around them but quickly made their way away from you.

Astarion rolled his shoulders and sighed dramatically, then looked at you grinning: “Ah, darling, so good to be alone with you again, don’t you think?” His eyes wandered down your body and he licked his lips again. “Nothing like a little drama and knife play to spice up the night, am I right?” His red eyes turned even darker with an impossible hunger shining in them. You gulped, Daegin snored.

[kkami-writes]

Devil's Advocate – chapter ten. cw. not? really spicy? but kinda implied sex. wc. 1.5k reference. skz-talker ep. 34

It was the day of the AAA’s and anyone could clearly see just how nervous you were. Even though it was just going to be a recording due to covid, it was still your first big event with the boys and you want it to go as smoothly as possible. Somehow you were more nervous than they were and they were the ones performing.

One by one you had made sure they were getting ready, constantly glancing at the clock and making sure you were still on schedule and not running behind. You had gone to check on Felix, but the boy was not in his room and you decide to find him later. The biggest probably would be Hyunjin if the boy wasn’t awake yet. It’d take you at least ten minutes to drag the boy out of bed. You freeze in front of his room though and you can immediately recognize the familiar energy that was pulsing inside the room. You curse under your breath, sighing deeply. Really? Did they have to decide to do this today?? Of all days?? An hour before they had to leave?? Oh you were gonna strangle them.

They don’t leave you much choice as you open the door and enter the room.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but in case you’ve forgotten you have the AAA’s today,”

The two boys on the bed freeze, eyes wide as they stare at you. Hyunjin is currently shirtless with a flustered Felix underneath him, legs wrapped around the taller boy’s body. It would almost be comical how shocked they were but to be honest you felt a little bad. You had promised to yourself that you would never…go near them when they were having moments like these but this time it could not be helped.

They scramble to disconnect themselves from each others bodies, Hyunjin desperately looking for his discarded shirt and Felix has his head in his hands, ears a bright red.

“I’m so sorry but we leave in an hour. So you can either hurry up or take a cold shower but we gotta go. I’ll come back in an hour ok?” You make to leave the two alone but surprisingly Hyunjin holds you back.

“Wait what? That’s it? You’re not gonna like…ask? Or interrogate us?” You raise an eyebrow at him, tilting your head.

“Huh? Do you want me to? I already know all of you guys are fucking,”

“WHAT?” They both scream at your confession and Felix flushes even more if it was possible. You laugh.

“Ok, first of all. You guys are NOT subtle or slick at all. The amount of times I’ve walked in on some of you making out is hilarious. Second of all, did you forget I’m half-succubus? I can quite literally feel the energy when you guys are…you know,”

Both boys blink at you, jaws practically on the floor.

“Plus even if I had never noticed or wasn’t a succubus, you do realize that the first thing the company did when I got the job was sign a NDA that explained all of you are in a polyamorous relationship and that I shouldn’t be concerned if I see anything. That it is strictly a company secret,”

Felix lets out a small groan, going back to trying to hide himself into the palm of his hands.

“…You don’t…think it’s weird?” Hyunjin asks, his voice on the quiet side, uncharacteristic for the boisterous boy.

“Weird? Hyunjin, I’m a succubus for devil’s sake. People summon me to have mind-blowing sex. I have to feed on semen of all things. And you’re asking me if I think it’s weird that eight people are in a relationship? You’re so cute,” This time Hyunjin is the one blushing. “If you want my honest opinion? I love it. I’ve been here a month and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that all of you have such a special bond. You guys have something so beautiful, so rare and you guys shouldn’t be ashamed of it. I mean of course, I understand why you have to hide it but that’s not the point. I think it’s so wonderful that you guys have so much love in your heart and my point is, is that you guys should cherish what you have. Honestly? I’m kinda jealous. I could barely get one boyfriend let alone eight when I was alive” You joke half-heartedly but they cam both tell you’re being more honest than you’ve ever been with them. “Anyway yeah, that’s what I think so please, you guys don’t have to skirt around me anymore. I know a lot more then you think. I don’t mind if you guys are all lovey-dovey around me ok? Okay good. ONE HOUR. We gotta go and if you’re not ready I will drag you out of this apartment”

Felix is looking up at you with those pretty eyes, a sparkle of what looks like hope shines in them. You don’t have the time to even begin to unpack what his gaze could possibly mean as you exit the room. You never see the look Hyunjin and Felix give each other.

Somehow you manage to get everyone to the venue in one piece. You think you deserve a medal for that alone. For now though, you get to relax while the boys get their makeup done. Jeongin is the first one done, sitting in the little kitchen area and stuffing his face with food. His hair is bright blue now, having gotten dyed just a few days ago. He looks good, you think to yourself, especially with the pretty red eyeshadow dusted across his eyes. You come over to poke his cheeks that are filled with food and he playfully swats at you, causing you to let out a small laugh.

You lean down a little, resulting in a confused look from the boy but you simple open your mouth, blinking and waiting for him. Jeongin stares at you for a minute before finally realizing what you want, placing some tteobokki into your mouth. You hum appreciatively, enjoying the sticky spicy rice cake.

“WHAT!!! This is blatant favoritism!!!” Changbin whines, pointing towards Jeongin. He had just tried to get the boy to share but he had pulled the food away from the other. Jeongin simply shrugs.

“Noona’s pretty,” and then he goes back to stuffing his face happily as Changbin stares at the boy with his mouth open. Of course Jeongin eventually let’s the other eat some of his food, but not before Changbin had thoroughly pouted.

Jisung walks into the room once he’s all dressed and you ‘oooh’ at the golden glitter in his hair. Your hand comes to run through his hair, an action Jisung throughly enjoys as he almost pushes against your hand more. But as soon as your hand leaves his hair he suddenly remembers why he had come over. Before you know it, Jisung is pulling you towards a smaller room with Minho.

“Um..where are you taking me? Are you gonna murder me?” Jisung snorts.

“No, no. Can you film us for SKZ-Talker? The other staff are busy,” He asks, pushing a small camera into your hands. It’s very hard to say no to the boy so you follow them into the room. There’s a keyboard pushed up the the wall and Jisung takes a seat. As soon as you start recording, you point the camera to Minho.

“Sorry you can’t be in here without permission. It’s authorized personnel only,” Stays will assume he’s talking to the camera but he’s actually teasing you, a grin on his face before taking a sip of coffee. You playfully glare at the boy from beyond the camera.

Jisung is pushing some buttons on the keyboard and then it’s playing a rapid song, his fingers pretending to glide over the keys as if he was the one playing. You’re trying to hold back your laughter at the sight, biting at your lower tier. He plays it up even more as he pretends to have a conversation on the phone, now ‘playing’ the keyboard with one hand.

After he’s done, Minho has already left the room, presumably to go bother someone else. Jisung starts to try playing an actual song, focused heavily on trying to remember the correct keys. He can only play the first few notes but the tune is strangely familiar to you. The boy continues to try to play as you wrack your brain of where you know this song. And then it hits you.

“OH. This is from Howl’s moving castle right?” You exclaim, happy that you had finally remembered.

“Yeah!! You’ve seen it?” You nod your head eagerly.

“Yeah, I love that movie. All ghibli movies really. I’m a little upset that I didn’t realize it sooner. I guess it has been awhile since I’ve seen it,”

“It’s my favorite movie of all time!! I’ve seen it like 8 times,” He chuckles. He would never get tired of talking about the movie.

“Wanna make it 9?” His head shoots up to look at you. Jisung’s smile gets brighter, small sparkles in his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” Devils advocate taglist (50/50) ⛤ send an ask or sign up here ⛤ @hannieslove @alnex05 @liknws @hyunelixbun @mixtape-racha @inlovewithallmusic @noellllslut @143lix @lolli4me @minhoie @soobery @sunnibearr @adorawritesalot @chlodavids @tasteskzsworld  @chowmein69 @suebinn @yoonrimin @hyunestrella @elizalabs3 @chaotic-world-of-the-j @realrintaro @surefornext @minhwa @0325tiny  @tfshouldidohere @hanjingin  @slay-and-gay @princelingperfect  @strawberryepie @yeetmehome @min-doesnt-know @shakalakaboomboo @skz-streamer @lovestayforev @the-simpy-simp @beautifulcolorgarden @foliea @studygirlmaxx @kpopsstuffs @highlydestiny @lenilla15 @@chocolate-scoups @mits-vi @lovemyself-persona @rensimps @raehawthorne @miss-rose-dixon @producedbyy3racha @loverlixie @hibs8

[ymiwritesstuff]

Lack of You | Ch. 5

UHHHH HI!! Listen I'm so so sorry this once again took so long!! Like, the burnout hit at the WORST time because this one is supposed to be THE chapter, you know? A lot of important stuff and all. But once again, this one is VERY long, which I hope compensates for the wait. Thank you SO much for the support and patience and I hope you guys will enjoy this and that people are still reading this ;-;

Genshin Impact

Yandere!Childe/Tartaglia x Fem!Reader

Summary: It had been months since your arrival in Liyue, and the world around you didn't seem so sad and cruel anymore. During one of Liyue's most significant festivals, you find yourself absorbing emotions you hadn't felt or accepted in years. And in the center of them all, was your savior.

Notes: 18+, Fluff, Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, vaginal sex, "lovemaking", we finally fuck Zhongli wohooo

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5

Also posted on AO3!

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Zhongli was not blind. And he certainly was no fool either. He had lived for long enough to know how the human mind functioned and how one responded to traumatic events of the past. He knew all too well, and when the opportunity to help someone in need presented itself, he could not overlook it.

He wondered if he had been too invasive, too eager to offer his assistance, but he justified his doubts by telling himself that it was the right thing to do. Given who he was, he felt responsible for the people of Liyue he held so dear, and even though you had drifted to the region fueled by determination to escape, you had quickly adopted the harbor as your home and tried to rebuild your life. And it had worked, much to his relief.

It had been a few months. The seeds of progress he had planted from the moment he saw you on that rainy day were finally beginning to sprout. You had gotten more active, completing every errand he had tasked you with the utmost diligence and efficiency. He was more than pleased to see this, as the primary motivation for this part of the contract was to give you something to occupy your mind with that wasn’t your dark and heavy memories.

Zhongli still did not know everything, nor was he necessarily desiring to. When you first met him and as time went on, he made his own less than gracious conclusions that were far from pleasant. He noticed the little signs that showed through your behavior, how you initially avoided making contact with his eyes, instead opting for the ground, and how your form was frequently taut and cautious, giving glances behind you as if someone was following you.

All that and more told him all he needed to know.

His curiosity was far from extinguished, though, but he would not attempt to kill it by asking or even insinuating that he wanted to know more. The unwritten boundaries set between you two would stay up unless you yourself wanted to bring them down. Zhongli wished to create something in which you felt safe enough to open up should you feel the need to do so.

And to an extent, he had managed that. No longer were your shoulders tense from anxiety around him nor did your voice disappear as you spoke. Your previously dull, almost lifeless eyes had regained their fire and instead of looking at him with uncertainty or doubt, he only saw perseverance and tenacity.

He had somewhat kept his distance out of respect for your outer limits, but as time went by he noticed you seeking him out more and more. Occasional conversations over tea became a part of your life in Liyue, and during these mundane meetings, Zhongli started observing the healing.

For a human, your strength was admirable, and as the man who had saved and guided you, he could say with confidence that he was proud of your progress.

In a way, his duty had been fulfilled. You knew Liyue like the back of your hand and did not require his assistance navigating the region. That meant that your interactions had developed into something more informal, which both he and you appreciated greatly.

You had not strayed away from him, which had been something he had considered you doing throughout your healing. Instead, you opened up to him, telling him about your life back in Snezhnaya, however, carefully dancing around the fragile ice that guarded the horrible events that had led you to Liyue.

It was only partially because you did not want to relive the memories and would have rather left them in the past. Still, in reality, even if you wanted to let him into the once-decayed graveyard that was your mind, you would not have been able to tell him everything.

For you couldn’t remember it all.

The life you had been coveting ever since your escape was at your fingertips, but at the cost of losing the majority of the memories that used to haunt you. It frightened you, if only slightly. Reliving everything, again and again, was the last thing you wanted, but perhaps in the back of your mind, you felt distressed at how seemingly and surprisingly simple it had been. Your memory had started to fade mere weeks into your arrival, but what scared you possibly the most was the fact that the danger was not entirely over.

No matter how much of your recollection disappeared into the void, you always remembered him. The things he had done to you were a blur, but the image of his eerily calm yet unhinged face was crystal clear. And you feared it.

The possibility of him finding you at this point was unlikely, and forcing you back home even more so. You had the adepti and Mr. Zhongli’s protection, not to mention the fact that the strict operations of the Fatui most likely kept Childe so busy, that he had no time to pursue anything or anyone else. In hindsight, you were glad he had joined that wretched group, for it gave you some much-needed peace of mind.

All in all, you were safe, that much you knew for certain. The only things disturbing you were small images and flashes of him, but you endured them because unlike the real him, they could not hurt you.

“So, what happened next?” Shu asked with an almost knowing smile on her lips and a teacup in her hands as if she already knew what you’d say next as you recalled the events from the other day. You chuckled before you continued.

“She was so exhausted she fell face-first into the pile of Glaze Lillies we had just gathered,” you concluded, laughter escaping your lips with the last few words. The fresh image of someone as proper and punctual as Ganyu succumbing to something so trivial as exhaustion amused you greatly, though you felt bad for the girl and the embarrassment that she clearly felt after she awoke.

“Poor Ganyu,” Shu said, placing her cup on the outdoor table upon which you two sat. “When will she realize that she can’t keep overworking herself like this?”

You stifled a laugh, noticing the humorous glimmer in her eyes. “It’s been how many millennia now, Shu? I think it will take at least five more.”

A joyous laughter from both of you filled the air as you went in for another sip of that delicious jasmine tea you had become familiar with. The taste brought you comfort, as did Shu’s company.

After a ridiculous amount of time spent worrying about and going over how you could even begin to ask forgiveness from the thoughtful nurse after what had occurred, you eventually managed to do so and apologize. As selfish as it sounded, you had been afraid to lose her and the possible help you could have received from her. It was thanks to her that you were back on your feet and it was her that had basically kickstarted all the positive things that had happened to you. You were beyond grateful.

Shu was a kind woman, her gaze was always warm and welcoming, so it shouldn’t have been such a shock to you when she forgave you without hesitation. 

After that, things returned to as they were when you first arrived, except this time you felt lighter, rid of the feelings of doubt that had bothered you so. Shu continued offering you her support, much more than you thought was appropriate for a simple nurse-patient relationship.

However, it didn’t take you too long to realize that Shu was more than a nurse who doted on you. She had become a friend and an irreplaceable one at that.

Shu glanced at the pier not too far away, that pleasant smile never disappearing. She watched as the people worked tirelessly making the final preparations for the night’s event. The entire harbor was even more full of life than usual and for a good reason.

“This year’s Lantern Rite will be truly phenomenal.” She turned back to you with that familiar kindness in her expression. “I’m glad you’ll be able to experience it tonight.”

Your smile mirrored hers. You had heard of the old tradition many times during your time in Liyue and soon came to understand its importance. You could only imagine the brilliance and warmth that the festival gave birth to during this time of year. The people began making preparations early on, and seeing the progress coming to an end filled you with a fresh sense of excitement you hadn’t felt previously. 

“I can’t wait.” You turned back to her. “I’ve never seen fireworks, you know?”

Shu’s smile seemed to widen if that was even possible at this point.

“Oh, you’re going to love them! They only get better each year.” Her hazel eyes wandered to the afternoon sky as she reminisced about all the beautiful works of art that had decorated the heavens for all these years. From the look on her face alone, you could deduce that she adored the event, seemingly more than the average citizen.

“Will you be watching them with Yingyue?” You asked, curious about the woman Shu had talked so fondly about in the past. It was clear to you from the way her face lit up every time the name was merely mentioned that the nurse felt a certain way about her. This time was no exception.

“Ah… I haven’t asked her yet. Do you think she’d want to join me?”

Her question made you scoff and roll your eyes as to you the answer was more than obvious. 

“Of course I do. Didn’t you say that your last meeting went well? I can’t think of any reason why Yingyue wouldn’t want to spend more time with you,” you encouraged, which seemed to put Shu at ease, the warmth on her cheeks never disappearing. Her eyes found the ground but her smile prevailed.

“Yes. I think you are right.” You gave her a smug grin and finished the last drops of your tea.

“I know I am,” you said as you stood up. “In fact, I’m so certain she’ll say yes that you are going to go ask her right now.” Shu’s smile quickly disappeared and her face twisted into shock.

“What?! Right now?? (Name) I can’t do that!” She exclaimed, to which you giggled and gathered your things.

“Sure you can. I have to go run some errands now.” You looked at her with an expression that could have been described as jokingly serious.

“I better see you with her tonight or else the evil spirit of ‘having-an-awful-time-at-the-Lantern-Rite-because-I-didn’t-invite-a girl-with-me’ will haunt you forever!” You spread your palms and held them in front of you in an exaggeratedly dramatic attempt to terrify her.

Something inside you cringed at your actions. Director Hu was so much better at this.

Still, Shu laughed cheerfully, much to your joy. “Alright alright. I’ll go ask her.” A satisfied smile made its way onto your lips as you basked in your small success. 

“Good. So, I’ll see you two later tonight?” While your voice held some mischievousness, you had been genuinely wanting to meet this girl who was the partial source of Shu’s happiness. That emotion stuck to you as well, you didn’t remember the last time someone else’s joy had been this contagious.

Shu nodded. “Thank you for the encouragement, truly.” She bowed her head, a custom you were more than used to at this point, so much so that you instinctively did the same, before you began your departure.

You felt content with your accomplishment, despite it being rather ordinary. Shu had helped you tremendously throughout the months, so you were glad you were able to provide her with a bit of assistance of your own. It was the least you could do.

Though you felt like nothing you did would be truly enough to repay for everything she had done for you. For what had felt like an eternity, you had only known monsters that wore the cloak of the people you thought were allies, and betrayal in its rawest form. You had been fooled, forced to be the center of a twisted desire, and corrupted beyond all that once made sense. Losing all faith in everything that you once thought kept you safe. People, laws, and even the Archons had all failed you, which only left a bitter taste and distrust in your heart, one you thought could never be redeemed.

However, people like Shu gave you hope and restored that lost trust in the world. She and everything else in Liyue was like a blessing that you had long needed to survive.

As you walked around the decorated harbor, you greeted some of the locals you had become familiar with. With your work for the funeral parlor came opportunities to socialize and help the people, some of whom you had become especially acquainted with. It was rewarding and helped you form a sense of security within the region that had once felt so unsafe.

Liyue felt like your home more than ever before, and participating in the Lantern Rite would solidify your position as a citizen of the harbor. That’s how it felt to you at least, the locals and others had welcomed you long ago. Being a part of something so vital to Liyue felt fulfilling, and further allowed you to put behind the regrets of the past and the cold that had followed you all the way from Snezhnaya.

You barely thought of the icy region anymore. You had no reason to, nor did you want to. The Tsaritsa’s plan of which you did not know the details, was in motion and you were sure nothing would deter Her Majesty and her vile Harbingers in their pursuit of domination. That, however, had little effect on you anymore.

Your legs led you to the heart of the harbor, where people walked and ran around, applying the finishing touches to make the surroundings look as festive as possible. Lanterns were painted, and fireworks were being prepared for their grand launch. The atmosphere was so different, yet familiar at the same time. The busy streets were no strange sight to you, however, as you stood in the middle of the preparations for the biggest festival of the region, you couldn’t help but feel special.

As you took in the view, your eyes wandered to one of the many shops. You didn’t recall ever seeing this one before, which led you to surmise that it was one of those stalls opened only during the festival. Shu had told you about them, and apparently, they were favored by tourists who traveled to the harbor for the Lantern Rite. By the looks of it, Shu’s explanation made sense. The shop was filled with what you could call souvenirs, items, and gems from the region that people could take home with them to remind them of their journey.

However, what caught your eye was something placed right in front of the shop. A dress. The kind of dress you had seen some of the wealthier locals wear from time to time. The colors were light, and the fabric looked airy and comfortable. You couldn’t look away.

In your admiration, you slowly walked to it, which prompted the cheerful clerk to turn to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” You merely hummed a response, fingers carefully lifting one of the long sleeves that looked so inviting. The silk was smooth to the touch, and the delicate flower embroidery on the midsection stretched all the way to the top part of the neatly pleated skirt.

The dress was rather modest. With a high neckline that folded into a cross-collar and a ribbon that coiled around the waist, it gave an aura of elegance and beauty, unlike anything you had seen before. You ran your hand down the front, feeling the fabric and silently admiring the craftsmanship.

“You’re not the first one to look at it so longingly.” You finally looked at the clerk, who had somewhat of a regretful expression on their face. “I’m afraid the price is a bit too much for most. It’s one of a kind after all.”

Curiosity stuck to you, and you glanced at the price tag. Wow. The clerk wasn’t lying, it was quite out of the league of average citizens. It didn’t surprise you though, the dress was stunning. With the revelation, a thought sprouted in your head:

You could afford it.

You thought about it for a second. The dress was beautiful, and you had managed to gather a good amount of mora with which you only ever bought food and other things meant to aid in living. You had never bought anything you could describe as… Fun. Tonight would be special. People would gather together and marvel at the beauty of the festival. It was no ordinary event and thus no ordinary clothes would be appropriate.

If you were to look your best, might as well do it right.

“I’ll take it.”

~

As the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky with colors of comforting warmth, your errand run was coming to an end. You had never burned this much mora on a single trip but felt strangely fulfilled. The dress you bought was carefully folded in a bag and you made sure to take especially good care of it before you would wear it. You’ll never forget the overjoyed expression of the clerk. The image brought a smile to your face.

The charm of the souvenir shop left an impression on you and made you wonder what wonders the other regions of Teyvat housed. Maybe one day you would set foot into nearly every corner of the world, gaping at the cultures and sceneries, the events of the past left behind to rot.

You let out a breath as you came to a stop at a small bridge that protected a pool of water. Smiling to yourself, you thought about all the fortunes that had befallen you and just how lucky you had been. You had gotten your life in order, made a living for yourself and most of all, made friends with the people and beings who had selflessly helped you. You still couldn’t understand why or how any of this was even possible, but you were the happiest you had ever been.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention and as you turned towards it, your heart swelled. The sight of those familiar, comforting golden irises was always a happy one. With a lovely smile, you greeted the man with a seemingly otherworldly presence you had noticed from the very first meeting.

“Mr. Zhongli, good evening.” Out of habit, you bowed slightly. Despite knowing him for quite a long time, you still felt the need to express politeness whilst in his company, he was a man with a rather high status after all, and only now did you understand why people thought of him so supremely.

“Good evening,” He returned the bow, his voice as delightful as ever. “I trust that you have wrapped up your preparations for the Lantern Rite?” He asked, pointing to your bags of various purchases with his gaze. You gave a nod.

“That I have. I was just on my way back home to get dressed for the fireworks.” Mr. Zhongli gave a nod of understanding before suddenly extending his arm to you, that warm smile you had had the pleasure of seeing multiple times spread across his lips.

“Shall I walk you, then?” His request surprised you somewhat. You knew he was as courteous as one could be, yet you didn’t expect him to offer to take time out of his possibly busy evening and spend it in your company. Despite that, however, you felt something twist in your insides at the sight of him offering his help once more.

“That would be great, thank you.” You gave him one of your bags and with your now free hand, wrapped it around his arm and positioned yourself by his side. As you began walking in relative silence, you wondered what went through his head. Glancing at him carefully, you only saw an expression so neutral and unbothered, that it caught you off guard slightly.

The details of his face had never been this close to you and you found your eyes glued to them. His skin was flawless, his eyelashes were long and as dark as his hair and while his lips were thin, they were naturally dusted with an extremely sheer shade of pink. Only now, in this moment, did you truly realize just how incredibly handsome he was.

You turned your gaze forward, hand squeezing his arm just slightly. Suddenly, you were hit with so many complicated, almost suffocating emotions, ones you had ever truly felt only once before. But why now? Perhaps it was because you finally felt at ease enough to allow yourself to experience the underlying excitement and the increase in your heartbeat when in someone’s company.

You gripped the handle of the bag you were carrying tighter. Body encased in growing warmth, you somehow managed to continue walking relatively normally by his side.

He was reticent. You were expecting to hear his voice talk about the Lantern Rite or any other tradition of Liyue he seemed to possess an endless amount of knowledge about. But there was none of that. Only silence. It was not uncomfortable, quite the opposite, but right now, you strangely missed the sound of his voice.

As you neared the staircase that led to your home, you heard him let out a small breath. He glanced at you, the gentleman in him making sure you stepped up each stair without issues. Zhongli knew it was not entirely necessary, looking out for you was merely something he was somewhat used to, as that had been the primary foundation of your relationship for a time.

That foundation was crumbling and shifting into something else and he felt it. You both did. As you regained strength, so did a desire to learn more about Mr. Zhongli. You had opened up to him, abandoned all doubts and suspicions that previously weighed on your heart, and approached him further because you wanted to, not because the circumstances forced you to.

And you were always happy to see him.

“(Name),” He called out as you reached the top of the staircase. His voice was subtly different as if he had deserted his professionalism and opted for a tone suitable for a long-time friend. It was the tiniest of shifts, but you caught it.

“I have a question for you.” You blinked a couple of times and nodded, signaling him to continue. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact for a brief second. You frowned your brows slightly. Why did he seem so uneasy all of a sudden?

“The Lantern Rite is about to begin and as you know, it is the biggest festival in all of Liyue.” You listened carefully, utterly unsure where he was going with this. His eyes softened and the warmth in them almost made you melt.

“As such, it would be an honor to spend it in your company.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tingle in the pit of your stomach as he finished his proposal:

“Would you like to join me in watching the fireworks tonight?”

You sucked in a breath so fast you almost choked, the innocent question drifting in your head, spinning your brain around. Immediately you thought back to your earlier conversation with Shu, and suddenly, you found yourself relating to the nurse in a way you never could have expected.

Breaking eye contact, you stared at the ground for a brief moment, thinking about his words far too much. Your nervousness wasn’t due to the kind of anxiety you used to feel but rather due to an overwhelming set of emotions and feelings towards this man. The mere question did not confirm anything, nor were you completely sure what you even truly felt, but his proposition ignited internal flames you thought were permanently extinguished.

When you looked at him again your heart skipped a beat. Never before had you felt this way when looking at him, at least not in a way you could acknowledge. He was patiently waiting for your response and you were sure that even if you were to reject his offer, it would not offend him. It was just the kind of man he was. Kind, polite, selfless, and unbelievably attractive.

You could never say no to such a proposal from him.

“I would love to.”

The expression upon his face brightened and he seemed almost relieved at your answer.

“Wonderful. Shall we meet after sunset?” You briefly eyed beyond the railing, the sun only slightly visible from behind the horizon. It would be night soon, and the harbor would enter a completely new grandeur, one completely foreign to you.

“Sounds good.” You smiled, all that previous turbulence fading away and getting replaced by a pleasant calm that washed over you as you noted his gorgeous expression, satisfied with the outcome of his question.

You took your bag from him and turned to your door, ready to start preparing for a night you had a feeling would be unforgettable.

“See you then.”

~

The lit lanterns of your home draped the entire area in a pleasant glow as the sun finally reached its destination. The bag in which your earlier purchase once sat lay empty on a table, and instead, the comforting silk fabric hugged your form. Looking at yourself through the mirror, you were in awe.

The robe-like dress fit you like a glove and the Glaze Lillies you had placed in your hair matched the embroidery perfectly. Twirling a couple of times, you took in your appearance. The flowing skirt and sleeves looked almost hypnotizing and the combination of fabrics felt more comfortable than you could have ever imagined. Somehow, the garment looked even better once it was worn. You didn’t dare to admit it out loud, but you looked beautiful.

Glancing through the slightly open window, you noted how the evening darkness slowly engulfed the sky and how the warm colors that had adorned it faded away. It reminded you of your meeting and it did not take long for you to start making your way to the front door after taking one more look at your reflection through the mirror.

Mixed thoughts filled your mind as you descended the familiar set of stairs, ones of happiness, and awe, but also nervousness. You could not help but wonder what the following hours had in store and a part of you was not certain of how you would behave around Mr. Zhongli after your only recently realized feelings. Perhaps you had always felt a certain pull towards him, but only now did you truly realize it.

There was no guarantee of anything, however. You would be happy with whatever fate had in store for you regarding him. He saved your life, and for that, you would always be grateful.

When you arrived at the same bridge you had run into him earlier, he was already there, curiously eyeing the surroundings that had become radiant in warm lights as he so often was. His attire was different, much more festive, and thus much more suitable for the night’s occasion. You barely saw his face, but you just knew the kind of expression he had, the one where he was idly looking around, with no thoughts of urgency in his mind.

His outfit was in the colors you were used to and was not too different from his daily attire. The darkness of the expensive-looking fabric was lifted by the gold accents that, much like his eyes, seemed to be almost glowing. His shoulders were adorned by metallic decorations, much larger than the ones in his usual clothes. The outfit was long, and it swayed in the gentle winds as he stood, gloved hands on the railing. You watched him in pure awe. He was ethereal, like an adeptus, mighty, like a god, he was…

“Gorgeous.”

The word flew out of your mouth effortlessly, with no attempts to restrain it. Mr. Zhongli seemingly heard it, as he was quick to turn his head towards you. You did not look away, you weren’t able to. The word was an understatement, you didn’t think there existed any that could describe the man that stood before you.

Zhongli paused for a brief moment as he took in your appearance, the greetings he was about to say disappearing and fading away somewhere he could no longer find them. He usually had the right words for any situation but now, he was utterly speechless. You were beautiful. Like a withered flower that had regained its strength and beauty. Your eyes were full of life, like reignited flames of bravery and determination.

“You look… Stunning,” he managed to say, to which you smiled shyly. His voice wavered slightly, rid of its usual structure. You had never heard him like this, and it seemed almost more… Human. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but you appreciated the compliment from him.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli. You look wonderful as well.” He smiled at your words. “Shall we?”

With a nod, you once again wrapped your fingers around his arm and walked by his side. You trusted he knew the best spot to watch the fireworks that would soon take to the dark sky. The harbor was so beautiful, decorations you had never seen before sprinkled all over and the smell of local delicacies floating in your nose. The atmosphere was most wonderful and in this moment, with Mr. Zhongli by your side, you were happy that you had ended up in Liyue.

As your eyes scoured the area, they spotted something. Your feet slowed down, causing Zhongli to glance at you and notice how your gaze had glued itself on something, a warm smile spreading across your features. His eyes followed yours and soon realized the cause of your moment of happiness.

In the distance he could see Shu, the nurse he had known for years, and accompanying her was another woman, clinging to her arm happily. They were laughing while participating in one of the many activities exclusive to the Lantern Rite. You sighed blissfully.

“I knew she wouldn’t chicken out.” You mumbled, to which Zhongli chuckled slightly as you continued your journey. You hoped they would have a wonderful time together.

To your surprise, Mr. Zhongli took you outside of the city gates and slightly beyond the road that led to them. He took your hand in his and made sure you wouldn’t fall as you ascended to one of the grassy mountains that surrounded the harbor. The higher up you got, the more you realized what his plan was.

“The view from up here is most exquisite.” He said as you both carefully sat down on the grass. “I thought you’d appreciate a more tranquil atmosphere as opposed to the rather hectic one back at the harbor,” he explained as he looked at you.

How considerate, you thought. It certainly did somewhat cross your mind previously. Though you had gotten used to the bubbling harbor in its usual state, during the Lantern Rite it could get a bit loud and crowded, so you certainly weren’t opposed to this arrangement.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled, and he nodded, content and satisfied with his decision. You were rather close to him, which you did not necessarily realize, as it felt strangely natural. All your doubts and nervousness seemed to just melt away with the warmth that encased your being.

Suddenly there was a flash of light in the empty night sky and immediately your eyes shot up. The booming sound that followed made you jump but it was nothing compared to what you saw next.

The skies were filled with beams of bright colors and magnificent shapes. Your eyes took in all you saw, marveling at the sights you had never seen before. The loud sounds fell silent as your mind tried to process everything your eyes saw at once, the shapes, the colors, and the way they lit up the darkness of the night.

With every rocket that burst open in the sky, you were in awe of what it produced. You could not even begin to imagine what you would see next and that was what made it all the more magical.

Next to you, Zhongli could not help but notice just how awestruck you were, how your eyes glimmered and reflected the brightness that adorned the sky. In all his years, he didn’t think he had ever seen such pure adoration and freedom in someone’s expression. It was like your very soul was glowing with the fireworks, regaining its powers with every explosion. Zhongli wished that this would not be the last time he saw you so full of life.

Your eyes were glued to the festive sight as you quietly spoke:

“...Is Lantern Rite always this beautiful?” Your voice was barely audible, the overwhelming feeling of utter amazement making it disappear somewhere. But the attentive man next to you heard your question.

“No two Lantern Rites feel or are the same,” he began, voice the quietest you had ever heard it. You felt a touch on your hand that you were leaning on, and immediately looked at it, and then at him. You opened your palm and he carefully wrapped his fingers around your hand with his glowing eyes on yours.

“But they are always quite beautiful, yes.”

Something shifted in your heart as he finished, as if it skipped a beat but at the same time filled with passion in its rawest form. His words stuck to you. They were for you. He looked at you with such gentle affection, that it almost made him look vulnerable, like he was silently opening his heart to you. Zhongli was a kind man, yes, but during your time of knowing him, he had never looked at you with such… Affection.

The fireworks boomed in the distance but you could only see them as a faraway reflection in those comforting irises that looked so different, they did not feel as familiar as they may have once had. But you felt at ease whilst lost in them. You felt at ease with him.

You squeezed his hand debating on what you should do next. You craved his warmth, the way he looked at you was almost addicting. But you did not know how to react, you did not know were you allowed to react.

Zhongli seemed to notice your uncertainty, and was quick to speak:

“I apologize. Perhaps I was…” He sighed softly. “Too invasive.”

He went to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, fueled by desperation.

“No. Please don’t. I… I don’t mind.” You did not dare to face him anymore, so your eyes found your knees. It was so confusing, were you ashamed? Scared? Why were you so quick to pull him back towards you?

It may have been fear, to a certain extent. You had not allowed yourself to feel this way in a long time, and after everything you had endured, you completely shut the emotion down. However, now that you were free and presented with an opportunity to feel without restriction, it felt foreign, but also right. You trusted Zhongli, you felt safe in his presence and you yearned for his warm embrace.

You were desperate for the affection that had once been robbed from you, the kind of affection that had been used against you with devastating consequences. They left you scarred and yet, they returned when you stared at the man before you. From the moment he saved you, he has been nothing but a great help, he guided you, gave you strength to fight, and now… You were falling for him. You were falling in love with this man.

“Zhongli.. I… I don’t know what to say, I-” You squeezed his hand again, on the verge of tears. You were sure he knew, the way his gaze softened was far too telling. He knew, maybe he had known for a while. He had always been very perceptive, after all.

“Say nothing, (Name).” He softly spoke and you soon felt his free hand on your cheek. He was careful, at first only barely touching you, but you welcomed it, leaning in and basking in the pleasant feeling in your core.

“Just enjoy the night.”

The way he smiled almost made you melt, that otherworldly aura glowing stronger than ever. He was your savior, a blessing sent by the divines and someone for whom your pained heart swelled and sprung back to life. Looking at him and that gorgeous face of his, you slowly leaned in, allowing him a chance to reject your advances if he so pleased.

He, however, didn’t.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding on tightly for a twinge of closeness you did not even know you had been coveting. To somewhat your surprise, Zhongli returned the hug and as soon as you felt his arms around your form, you let out a breath that held the final bits of dread and worry in your body.

Nothing felt real anymore, nothing felt scary anymore. For as long as you remained in his embrace, you were at peace more than ever before.

~

The way back to your home was quiet, but you remained close to him, practically hugging his arm. Some uncertainty still lingered, as you weren’t quite sure how Zhongli himself thought of you. You had already accepted your feelings for him, but would not feel sad if those feelings weren’t returned. He had already saved and helped you tremendously, it would feel selfish to think that on top of that, he’d hold the same feelings of affection towards you.

Yet he wouldn’t hold your hand whilst you walked if he didn’t, right?

The last of the fireworks boomed distantly, and the once busy harbor was quiet as people concluded their celebrations. The warm lanterns illuminated the streets leading to that familiar staircase beautifully and made you wish the night would never end.

“Thank you for tonight.”

His voice was as calm as ever as you stepped up the crimson stairs, but his words pierced your heart. You gave his hand a squeeze, humming and nodding as a response. You didn’t want him to go, not yet. So as you both reached the front door, you were quick to speak:

“Why don’t you… Come in for a minute? For tea?”

The way your proposal came out was less than elegant, but you were glad to see him nod.

“I would love to.”

You were quick, perhaps too quick, to open the door and invite him in, your dress flowing with every movement. He walked in and looked around, surprised to see almost no changes from when he last saw your home all those months ago. Everything was more or less the same, and he surmised that maybe you felt it impolite to make big changes to something that technically did not belong to you.

Zhongli sat down on some cushions that laid on the floor in front of the low table and you immediately began preparing tea, bringing water to a boil under a fire. “I hope you have found your time in Liyue comfortable,” you heard him say.

“I certainly have. It is a wonderful region.” You picked out two porcelain cups and laid them in front of the low table in front of him. “Makes me wonder what the other corners of Teyvat have to offer.”

Zhongli hummed at your words as you poured the steaming hot jasmine tea for the both of you.

“Mondstadt, the City of Freedom lies not too far from here. Ruled by the Anemo Archon Barbatos, Mondstadt is also known as the city of wine and song.” As Zhongli spoke in the manner you were so used to, you sat down next to him, listening curiously.

“If you ever plan to visit, you should try dandelion wine. It is the most famous beverage in the nation.”

The City of Freedom, huh? That certainly sounded promising. He spoke with a fond smile upon his lips that told you that he himself had visited the regions many times. You took a sip of your warm drink.

“Perhaps I’ll visit someday. You certainly made Mondstadt sound like the most intriguing travel destination.”

You both chuckled at your words. The atmosphere was light and warm and you felt an increasing tranquility in your being.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you both enjoyed the most beloved jasmine tea. Ever since the day he invited you for a cup all those months ago, the flavor grew on you, and you found yourself drinking it often. Its supposed symbolism of purity and good luck wasn’t forgotten by you, and you thought about it a lot. Maybe you were attempting to harness some of that good luck whenever you enjoyed it.

In the past, you would have thought such superstitions foolish, however, you couldn’t deny the fortunate things that had happened to you. You doubted it was because of one cup of jasmine tea, but you had been lucky. Unbelievably so.

You turned to Zhongli, the physical manifestation of that luck. Even in your dimly lit home, he was beautiful, like an iridescent crystal in moonlight. When you looked at him, your thoughts were a mess. A mixture of joy, relief, confusion, and even… Adoration. In the midst of it all, however, questions floated.

“I… I don’t think I have ever asked this of you but…” Something came over you and you scooted closer to him on the floor, leaving the comfortable cushion behind. Zhongli tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to continue.

“Why have you helped me so much?”

It was an inquiry that had been in your mind all this time, yet you had never found a proper place and time to bring it up. Now, it felt right, for whatever reason.

He stayed quiet for some time, golden eyes looking down for the briefest moment. It seemed like he had to think of his response, which admittedly felt odd. He pondered for a few more seconds before finally speaking:

“Because it is the right thing to do.” His answer was just about what you were expecting, spoken in a quiet tone. There was something in his eyes, though, something you could not place your finger on. His answer made sense but did not shed any light on why he would go so far out of his way to aid you.

“Saving me from a cold rain I understand. But all of… This,” with your hands and gaze you pointed at the surroundings that were so selflessly given to you by him. “And more, I mean…” You took a breath.

“Why do this for anyone, let alone someone you barely know?”

For a while, you had thought everyone in this cursed world lived for their own selfish needs, but the recent actions of the people around you completely turned that assumption around. However, even if your view of the world wasn’t ruled by selfishness, all that Zhongli did for you was still extensive.

Zhongli was not surprised by your confusion, even he knew that though his help was appreciated, it would only be a matter of time before you questioned his reasonings. You were right, he was not obligated to help anyone to this degree, but he felt like in a way he was because-

“It is my duty.”

His words left you puzzled, unsure what he meant. You tried to dissect his response, but it made little sense. His duty? He was influential in the harbor to some degree, yes, but he was no ruler, it wasn’t his burden to care for the people of Liyue, he was a mere consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral parlor. Right?

Zhongli noticed the confusion his words ignited in you.

“I do not expect you to fully comprehend the reasons behind my actions. But know that aiding others is… a part of me, so to speak. It is a duty that soars beyond the things I do for Director Hu.” 

He looked to be in thought for a few seconds again before he turned to you again.

“You could say it is a personal matter of mine.”

You looked at him, trying your best to listen. It was clear that he was leaving details out, but you wouldn’t press him for any more information. Your confusion hadn’t fully disappeared, but you appreciated the additional insight into how someone like him thought and operated. 

And in the end, it didn’t really matter, for he had already done so much for you.

“I see…”

After a brief moment of silence, you looked at him, eyes shining bright with gratitude. You took one of his hands, a bold move that was partially subconscious, and spoke with a voice full of strength and life.

“Zhongli…”

The way you said his name with such gentleness tickled in his chest and echoed in his ears like a pleasant melody. The grip with which you held his hand was firm, rid of uncertainty and anxiety that once plagued you. There was a flame in your eyes and words of recognition upon your lips.

You had never looked more heavenly.

“Thank you. For everything you have done.”

Something pulled you towards him and soon you held his gloved hand near your chest, your heartfelt words flying into the air with utmost care. 

“For so long, I had nothing. I was nothing. Just a miserable pile of flesh.”

The faded memories of abuse attempted a return, but they vanished as soon as you saw his eyes soften. It was as if with his presence alone, he was shielding you from all that threatened to hurt you.

“But you helped me find myself and my strength. I have never felt so alive before.” You let out a half chuckle out of raw joy, shrugging your shoulders and clutching his hand, all the while he listened intently, not wanting to miss any word that came out of your mouth.

“I… I owe you my life. And I don’t know how I could even begin to repay you…”

Zhongli noticed a stray tear running down your cheek, fueled not by misery, but by faultless bliss that had fully taken over your regrets and worries of the past. Through that single tear, he saw a smile so precious it made him want to always see it adorning your features.

“Truly, Zhongli… Thank you. I don’t think I could ha-”

Your sentence was cut short when you felt his free hand on your cheek for the second time this evening. He wiped the tear you hadn’t even noticed most tenderly, leaving you to look at him as a warmth crawled onto your cheeks. His perfect smile was gentle and comforting. His stunning eyes shined like shards of radiant sunbeams.

“You look so lovely tonight…”

Your teary eyes widened and something in your core twitched. His voice was the quietest you had ever heard it, he sounded almost… Vulnerable. There was anticipation in the air and you swallowed a lump in your throat. Your heart raced, but you leaned forward, fueled by something you hadn’t felt in years.

Desire.

Zhongli noticed your actions and welcomed them, though carefully. Leaning in, he kept his gentle hand on your cheek and allowed you to decide where all of this would lead to, and at what pace.

And it didn’t take long until you felt his lips against yours.

Instantly, it felt like a massive weight was lifted from your body like the last of your troubles just vanished into thin air. His lips were soft, his hand on your cheek felt comforting and Gods, he smelled amazing.

You sighed against his lips, feeling a thrilling tingle in the pit of your stomach. Something in your brain that had laid dormant bounced back to life. It was a passionate desire, lust even and it seemed to spread throughout your body quicker than your brain could process it.

One of your hands found their way into the base of his neck, and the other settled against his chest. You could briefly feel his heartbeat against your hand, and that only seemed to add fuel to the growing flame inside you. You pulled his head closer, deepening the kiss that felt like it was feeding an ancient hunger.

Zhongli held his hand at your waist, gently pulling you closer. Your touch was like fire against him, with each passing moment he felt more and more like he was losing himself to this increasing longing for you. However, if that was what you wished, he didn’t wish to step too far.

Pulling back for a fleeting moment, you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, vision clouded by whatever it was that had taken over. You felt hot, and suddenly, just looking at him was enough to awaken indecent emotions.

It was not mere obscenity that invaded your thoughts. As you looked at him, a smile crept up to your face, and your heart swelled. The way he touched you was most caring and the way he looked at you made you feel warmth unlike any before it. He looked down at you, eyes sparkling with affection, framed by the softest of gazes.

Your fingers trailed his face, that perfectly sculpted jaw, and those soft lips of his. You sighed again, marveling at his being. Once again, he looked ethereal in ways you could not comprehend.

You leaned back while still holding him, silently inviting him to the floor. He followed, looming over you as you lay on the ground. You pulled him in for another kiss, which he did not protest, instead allowing his hand to slide to your hip that he squeezed through your dress, sending shivers down your spine and a noise rose from your throat.

That seemed to awaken him from a lustful trance, as he quickly pulled back. He created some distance and you gave him a puzzled look. His gaze had suddenly shifted into something akin to pressing concern.

“Do you… Want this?” He was slightly out of breath, but the question was necessary, for at this point he was more than certain his suspicions of your past were correct, and so he would not put you through something so abominable again, even by accident.

You froze at his question, seemingly being pulled up from a deep sea of danger. His words floated in your head and made you confused, hazed even.

Did you want this?

For the first time ever, you were truly given a choice. You had been so ready for him mere moments ago because for what had felt like forever, that was all you knew. Your damaged mind automatically accepted that you would share this moment no matter what, and while you were certainly more welcome to it than ever, now that the matter of what you truly wanted was in the air… You were stunned.

You looked at him, and for a second, you thought you saw Childe’s wicked grin flash before your eyes. He had only ever taken you greedily, never once considering your feelings or desires. That’s how it always went, thus you had never even fancied the possibility of it being any other way. The monster had corrupted you and your perception of intimacy, and what it could be.

The man before you was no monster.

Your hand traveled to his cheek and your face melted from uncertainty to adoring determination. The image of your tormentor vanished, and you would never allow him to haunt you again.

“I want you, Zhongli.”

His taut body relaxed, and he seemed almost surprised. But he knew from your expression that there were no ghosts of the past possessing you. It was you who spoke to him, you who desired him, and you, who he yearned for.

Zhongli kissed you again, softly. He removed his gloves and threw them somewhere with little to no care. Your hands rested on the sides of his face, dying to have him as close as possible. The way his hands glided along your still clothed body was most delicate, like he was handling the most fragile being in all of Teyvat.

Through the undeniable bliss that threatened to blind him, Zhongli studied you, making sure he couldn’t see any signs of discomfort or pain. He wanted this as much as you did, but he would put an end to it all if it brought you any form of displeasure.

Slowly you felt his sweet lips on the skin of your neck, each kiss burning passionately and causing sighs and whimpers to escape your mouth. He was being as gentle as one could be yet it was all you needed. It was all you wanted.

Zhongli took your hand gingerly and helped you sit up, and your heart only began to race faster. He wrapped his fingers around the ribbon wrapped around your waist but did nothing more.

“May I?”

His deep voice was quiet, sounding different than usual somehow. You nodded, smiling at him shyly. You appreciated his actions more than you even realized. Though you were nervous to be exposed in front of someone after such a long time, in this moment you wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.

Zhongli began delicately undoing the ribbon, allowing your robe to flow free in the warm air. He was careful not to tear the thin fabric as he pushed the layers aside, slowly revealing a haven of bare skin.

The expensive dress pooled on the ground around you and you quickly pushed it aside lest it get damaged during what was to come. When you caught his gaze, you witnessed a man immersed in an unadulterated adoration, as if losing himself in a sea of deepest devotion.  

The brunet’s face twisted into the slightest of frowns as his eyes locked onto the faded scars littered throughout your body. Discomfort poked his heart and he found himself tracing one on your shoulder with his finger. A twinge of shame latched itself on you, but you pushed it aside as best you could, for you didn’t wish to ruin this moment of vulnerability with him.

You did not want to hide from him anymore.

Zhongli eyed your body. It had done its best to remove the physical reminders of violence and you did not look any less beautiful to him. It just saddened him to think about the things that you had gone through. Yet you had endured.

“Who did this to you..?”

The way he whispered was almost pained, as if merely seeing the harm done to you broke his heart into pieces. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest, yet you felt something akin to pleasant warmth in your chest at his words. He cared, and worried over your wounds unlike anyone had ever before. It was a feeling you had been robbed of, and though it ailed you to see him like this, you appreciated his deep concern for you.

You had never seen this side of him, the way his golden eyes looked at you, so utterly filled with fondness and affection, it would have felt foreign under any other circumstances. But the pieces fell into place with him, and everything felt right.

You didn’t shy away from him, or hide your being from him. Instead, you placed your hand on his wrist and leaned in, bringing your lips to his. This was no time to mourn the past, all you wanted, was to feel the warmth of his skin and touch.

Zhongli felt your hands on his lavish clothes, the eagerness to see him exposed fueling you as you slowly helped him out of his robes.

You marveled at his perfect skin, his beautiful physique that adorned him and only seemed to enhance his already hypnotizing beauty.

He leaned in, and your back made contact with the floor below you once again. He touched you gently, a hand settling on one of your breasts while his lips journeyed to your neck. His touch was soft and tame, yet it still sent shocks of pleasure through your nerves. 

Closing your eyes, you reveled in the sensations, enjoying the way his lips moved on the surface of your skin, how his hands were dying to explore every inch of you. Your head became heavy, and your hands found his upper back. You pulled him closer, letting out a soft sigh of pure bliss.

Zhongli was not blind to the way you relaxed at his actions, how utterly entranced you became. The way you responded to his every caress delighted and surprised him, but also filled him with profound relief, knowing that he was bringing you such immense joy and contentment. As his hand slowly moved lower, he swore he could detect the faintest trace of a smile playing upon your lips, a silent confirmation that you were experiencing nothing but pleasure.

He kissed you again, a low moan rumbling in his throat that made you twitch. With delicate fingers, he touched the spot that ached for him most, surprised at the amount of slick he felt on his digits. You mewled, already arching your back for him, more than ready for him to slide his fingers into you.

Zhongli pulled back to check on you, only to see an expression so full of lust and affection that it washed all doubt of you not wanting this away. Not only did you look incredibly eager for him, you were also joyful, happy even, and it warmed his heart more than anything had before.

The amount of trust you placed in him to reveal you vulnerabilities like this was a marvel.. Your beautiful eyes looked straight at him, never shying away for even a fleeting moment. In the depths of your gaze, he beheld a strength rarely witnessed in mortal beings, an indomitable spirit that ignited a yearning within him like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Two of his fingers entered you effortlessly, earning him a satisfied mixture of sighs and moans from you. He took in your reaction, it only increased his own arousal. To bring you such pleasures, fueled his desires more than anything ever could.

“Oh… Zhongli…” In your ecstasy, you sang his name like a prayer, desperate to feel more of him. You wrapped your hands around him and pulled him to you once more, all the while his hand worked its magic between your legs.

His touch was measured and deliberate, ensuring your comfort as his eyes watched how your face melted and twisted in pleasure. Your body was on fire and your core tightened with every pump of his skillful fingers. You felt like you were floating in the air, your every sense alert, yet only being able to focus on the sensation of his digits, the sound of his sighs, and the sight of his gorgeous face that was flushed red ever so slightly.

Your insides throbbed against his fingers with every push, so incredibly needy for him. The memory of such intimate pleasure had become a distant memory, suppressed by your own restraint. At that moment, you chided yourself for denying such sensations, for the wave of pure ecstasy that surged through your body, from your core to your very fingertips, was nothing short of addictive.

Zhongli’s attentive gaze looked at you, somehow managing to both look out for any signs of unpleasantness and appreciate your erotic reactions that took the form of those sweet noises from your lips and contorted twitches of your body. He was utterly mesmerized by how you looked and most of all by the fact that this was his doing.

Your unquenchable craving for the man before you was no longer a mystery, it was exposed in all of its obscene glory.

His thumb brushed against a certain sensitive nub that had become swollen with your arousal. The sensation made you twitch, a clear indication for Zhongli to do it again. 

Whilst his two fingers moved in and out of your drenched hole, his thumb gently rubbed circles against your clit, spiraling you further down in ecstasy. Your moans threatened to louden due to the new and overwhelming sensations, and you attempted to suppress them. It was a mere habitual reaction, done without thinking, but it did not go unnoticed by Zhongli.

“Let me hear you, my jewel,” he murmured against the crook of your neck. “Your voice is so heavenly…” He nuzzled against you in an almost animalistic yet comforting way before pressing a plethora of kisses on the surface of your skin.

Your voice flew into the hot air and Zhongli was eager to please you, quickening the pace at which his hand skillfully worked, making you clench around him ever so hungrily.  

“S-so good… Feels so good.” It was nonsensical how good he was making you feel with his mere fingers, how much pleasure coursed through your entire being.

He lifted his head to look at you, and you only melted even more upon seeing the tenderness in his gaze. The contrast was astonishing. His fingers moved in such ways it almost made you feel dirty, and yet, his eyes burned with the most profound care and devotion.

The improper noises that his fingers making contact with your insides fell mute as all you could focus on was him and his eyes, those eyes that watched over you, even now.

With a heaving breath, you whispered his name and brought him closer, clashing your lips with his. Your hands held onto the sides of his head, desperately needing to feel him close as the knot in your core tightened when his fingers reached new depths.

In that moment, your mind was enveloped in a thick, euphoric haze, a dense fog that you surrendered yourself to with abandon. You had been so alone, so drained of any pleasures of intimacy for so long, that you couldn’t reject them now. And the sole reason for this intoxicating bliss was the man before you

Zhongli, Zhongli, Oh, Zhongli, that was all you heard in your head as you kissed him, moaning against his lips like a starving woman. Clenching around his fingers for the final time, you came undone, bucking your hips against his hand and savoring the quivering waves of joyful pleasure that engulfed your being.

It was only then that you retreated from him, breathing heavily and allowing him to witness your flushed expression and half-opened, almost tearful eyes.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, with the utmost softness in his tone. He fixed a stray strand of your hair that had fallen out of place and watched as your wet lips turned upwards into a smile.

“Never better.” You caressed the perfectly soft skin of his face with your thumb, feeling like you were floating and the air around you was as clear as could be. Never had you been so sure of what you felt, never had you been so captivated by someone.

You only coveted him more.

Zhongli noticed the continuous movement of your hips. Your body was desiring him more, even beyond your breathtaking culmination of euphoria.

“Are you sure?” He was of course happy to indulge but was fearful that you were offering yourself for his own pleasure, as you might have done in the past. He only wanted you to enjoy yourself.

You nodded eagerly, more than sure of what you wanted. There was no doubt in your mind. You wanted to feel him, touch him, love him. With pleading eyes you looked at him, and he pressed a kiss on your lips, silently accepting your request.

Carefully, he positioned himself at your entrance, almost at his limit. He couldn’t deny his own arousal, but for the sake of your well-being, he would hold back, and enjoy himself to the fullest. He wanted you, he really did, but would never admit to himself just how happy and relieved he was that you allowed him this moment.

He entered you slowly, and the stretch of him alone was enough to once again pull your head back. Gods, it felt heavenly. Throughout it all, you looked at him, unable to take your eyes off his perfect features. His mouth was slightly opened, eyes half-lidded as he took in your warmth as he slid into you.

Zhongli hissed at the sensation, his head dipping low as he tried to cope with the feeling. It was as if you were made for him, you took him so well, it was unbelievable.

It didn’t take long for him to start moving. The slow, drawn-out thrusts felt ecstatic, blessing him with an array of moans and whimpers from your mouth. He pressed himself against you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You felt his breath tickling your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

With each thrust, you throbbed against him and tightened around him which only prompted him to give you more and dig himself deeper.

“Hah… Gods, you feel divine.” His hand found your cheek and his eyes bore into yours. He was as tender as he could be, dying to shower you with his affection. His eyes glowed warmly, framed by his eyebrows that were frowned ever so slightly due to these overwhelming sensations.

Your heart skipped a beat every time he moved, every time he touched you, and every time those safe, golden irises stared at you. He embodied everything that made you happy, everything that made you feel secure. All your worries and images of the past disintegrated as he held onto you so earnestly, and loved you so genuinely.

Zhongli showed no signs of fatigue, and only seemed to increase his movements, bringing his lips to yours once more in a multitude of messy kisses. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

As they lay there, fully exposed to one another, any invisible walls that once existed between the pair disappeared. There was a connection that only seemed to deepen as you indulged in each other’s less than pure desires.

However, there was no filth in the air, no desperate cries or the destruction of minds. Childe wasn’t there to threaten you, to harm you, to ignore all your protests. No, the image of the man had long disappeared from inside your head. In this moment, you had all but forgotten what he even looked like. Freedom was at your fingertips.

And your liberator was right in front of you.

His lips tenderly brushed over your neck, bestowing gentle kisses upon the faded scars, not claiming you as his own, but liberating you from the clutches of the one who had mistreated you. A silent vow echoed in his actions, a pledge to shield you from harm and safeguard your well-being as long as he drew breath.

You felt him touch the spot that made you see stars. Over and over he prodded at it crashing you with a massive wave of euphoria every time. Your noises grew louder and with it, Zhongli’s arousal reached new heights.

How he loved your voice, your sweet sounds. They were so full of life and emotion and they echoed in his ears like a spell and made him twitch.

When you wrapped your legs around his torso, he almost reached his peak right there. The new angle allowed him to hit your cervix far more effortlessly, making you both drown in each other’s pleasure.

“Zhongli… Oh.. Zhongli…” In the midst of mewls and gasps, you spoke his name. That was all you could say, for he was all you could think about. Your core was on fire, the familiar knot had returned and with every thrust, you clamped around his length more and more. He felt amazing, he made you so full you felt like you were losing your mind.

Zhongli noticed your expression, and how utterly entranced you were, drunk on the bliss he was providing you. The way your face twisted and melted by his actions was addicting and brought him closer to his impending peak.

Desiring to have you as close as possible, Zhongli wrapped his strong arms around you, and when you opened your eyes slightly, for a moment, you swore you could see a change in him. He picked up the pace and when you caught a glimpse of those gorgeous eyes, it almost seemed like they had an animalistic hunger in them.

You didn’t have time to delve any deeper into that as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, lifting you up ever so slightly so he could have you as close as possible. A strained moan ripped itself from your throat as he thrust in and out of you faster and faster, going deeper and deeper until you couldn’t hold in your brewing rapture.

As you came and you steadily pulsated around him, practically milking him, silently begging for him to finish, Zhongli gasped, allowing a most erotic sound to leap from his mouth. He gently took hold of your chin and kissed you in the most wonderful way as you felt him twitch and fully surrender to his undying desire for you.

There was a moment in which you heard nothing but your own heartbeat. Your vision was blurry and as the man who had saved you embraced your form, you let out a breath. And with that single breath, you let go of all doubts, all your demons, all your worries. His warmth enveloped you, and you granted yourself this moment and allowed your raw emotions to run wild.

As Zhongli looked at you, his face quickly twisted in concern as she saw your tearful eyes and quivering lip. He swallowed nervously, immediately wondering if all of this was a mistake. Your expression was distant as if your mind was on an entirely different planet.

Before he had time to speak, your eyes shifted to him, and a content smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You brought your hand to his cheek, silently assuring him of your newly found peace of mind. You kissed him tenderly, relishing the way he held you and pulled you to him.

There was a moment of silence as he caressed your bare back, wonder floating in his head. He had never felt like this. It was foreign and yet, it felt right.

You sighed against him, wondering how you had gotten so fortunate. You couldn’t help but smile widely, you didn’t remember the last time you felt this alleviated. Gone were the flashes or the dreadful thoughts, now you only felt a warmth in you, accompanied by undying gratefulness.

Zhongli’s expression was more stoic, as he thought about the night he had found you and the previous questions you had. Much of what he saw that night was unknown to you, and so, Zhongli opened his mouth:

“When I found you on that stormy night…”

Your smile fell ever so slightly and you glanced at him but allowed him to continue.

“You were not only unconscious but distressed. Out of it, even.”

Your eyebrows frowned in confusion. The details of that night had become a distant fog of a memory, much like anything else, yet for some reason, what he was saying seemed urgent, and concerning. As far as you knew, you had passed out, not in some state of psychosis. Your stomach churned and Zhongli noted your concerned expression.

“I did not want to worry you, that is why I am only bringing this up now. I… I am sure it’s nothing you should worry about now, but I feel like I have to let you know of this, for your own safety.”

What he was saying didn’t make much sense, but you knew it was out of the goodness of his heart. Still, uncertainty prickled in your side, what did he see that night?

“You were… Frightened, crying frantically and begging for help, yet you seemed to assume no one was coming to your aid.”

Zhongli did not take joy in remembering all of this. The image was haunting, you had been terrified despite not being entirely conscious and he had been unsure what to do. You had thrashed on the ground, curling up into a ball and perhaps most disturbingly-

“There was a name.” He looked at you and you felt a heavy dread in the pit of your stomach. “A name that fell from your lips over and over again…”

He fell silent, taking in your reaction. He did not want to distress you any further but felt a pressing need to tell you all of this.

“You asked me why I have helped you to this degree, and truthfully, I initially stayed by your side tirelessly to ensure that this person you were escaping from, wouldn’t come after you.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. So that was the reason. Zhongli was privy to the fact that you had been tormented by someone this entire time. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised you and admittedly, his reasoning made sense, so why was your heart racing?

“I apologize for my secrecy, but I did not want to cause you any more stress than you were already in-”

“What was the name?”

You spoke before you could think, and the question flew from your mouth almost unwillingly. You didn’t even know why you would ask that, was it because you had forgotten the name of your twisted lover? That couldn’t be it, could it? Despite most of his wretched face having become nothing but a faded picture, his name still lingered, much to your dismay. The name “Childe” was etched into your brain and yet, something about his name was foggy.

Zhongli’s face turned to you, and you looked right back at him, determination to hear this name obvious in your eyes, though you didn’t know why. Zhongli hesitated, unsure if revealing this name was for the best, seeing as something had clearly been triggered by this information. 

Still, he took a deep breath and as soon as the words left his mouth, your face fell, your stomach turned, and your heart began to race. Suddenly, fragmented memories became whole again as you were once again reminded of a cruel fate you had been forced to endure. 

All of this came back, only because you were reminded of the cruel monster’s name.

“Ajax.”

~

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[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.6

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread, literally the fluffiest of fluffs, a little drama at the end

author's note: Hey lovies, whoo! Two chapters today! Consider it my apology for being so inactive lately. But don't worry loves I'm back on track. A like, comment, or repost is always appreciated. Hope you like this chapter, the cliffhanger not so much >.<, enjoy...

word count: 1.5k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

That morning you were so lost in the ridiculous amount of people coming for coffee that you didn't even realize that Miguel hadn't shown up that morning. "Which is so weird because he always comes for coffee in the morning, sometimes again midday then he comes at night and stays a while," you explained to Estella over muffins and Earl Grey tea.

"Alright girl, first of all, why are you this worried about it? It's probably nothing," Estella reassured.

"It can't be nothing, we slept together days ago when the blizzard happened, and he cuddled multiple times!" you exclaimed, as Estella almost choked on her drink.

"You had sex?!" she blurted out shockingly.

"No, no we just like, slept in the same bed, my bed," you muttered, trying to draw the attention away from the two of you.

"Wait, I'm confused, why was he even in your house?!" she questioned.

You explained the whole situation with the amber alert and filled her in on the day that you had spent with Miguel. The more you explained, the more her jaw dropped.

"Wait, now I'm confused, what is your relationship with him?" Estella asked, taking a bite out of a muffin.

"I'm not even sure, we've had this strange chemistry ever since we met," you explained.

"I'd say give a day or two maybe he's like, at work, or living his life?" she joked sarcastically.

"I'm gonna kill you, Estella! Get out of my shop!" you joked as you pushed her out. She laughed along and waved before heading back to the shelter where she worked.

Your break was over and the lunch rush was just about to happen. Still no Miguel, you were starting to wonder if you had done something wrong. No, it makes no sense to think that way, I know I did nothing. I wonder if he misses me this much as well, you thought to yourself as you began to make people's orders.

The day went by very slowly. You sat by the counter at 8 pm, chin propped up on your hand, as fatigue drooped your head down. Just then the bells rang. Your head shot up immediately hoping there would be a tall, dark, and handsome man standing there before you. But it was just Mr. Smith. Probably here to collect the rent. "Good Evening Baby, I've come here for something, but I forget what it is... maybe a drink?" he trails off as he looks up at the menu.

"No Mr. Smith, you're here for the rent. It's too late for you to have coffee," you explained. He smiled and nodded.

"That's right dear, silly me," he said. You handed him an envelope with the rent for the month and waved goodbye after sending him off with a candy cane.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you plopped into a chair and waited to see if Miguel would show up. Why do I miss him so much? What are my feelings for him? You asked yourself as you got up to lock up.

That night you slept wishing to see Miguel walk through those doors in the morning. But to no avail, he didn't show up that morning, or for lunch, or that night. You opened your phone for any notifications from him but nothing. You gave him a call but his phone was turned off. You decide to leave him a voicemail.

"Hey Miguel, It's been a while since we've seen each other. The shop’s really boring without you here, come by for a coffee soon, I know you can't go a single day without having like 3 cups, I miss you, and I'm pretty sure I like you" you said. You had no idea where that last part came from and you fumbled to delete it somehow but what was done was done. You hoped that he wouldn't listen to it. Besides he was a businessman he had better things to do.

That night you slept wondering where he was and why he would come see you. He was cuddling you one day, then you never saw him. Does he like me, or does he not? You asked yourself. You allowed your mind to rest and went to sleep.

The next morning you got through the rush just fine and went on break while mentally preparing yourself for the lunch rush. Miguel was nowhere to be seen but you didn't panic as much as the days before. You had hoped that maybe he would show up tonight and you would scold him for disappearing without notice.

So as you lay your head on the counter bored out of your mind, the shop bells rang. You headshot up as usual and there you saw him. Tall, dark, handsome, and stuck in the mistletoe again. "I told you, you have to get a taller door frame," he joked as walked in. You chuckled at his joke holding yourself back from rushing to him and hugging him.

"Where have you been Miguel?" you asked him softly, unable to wipe the upside-down smile off your face.

"Surprisingly enough, the second I walked into work I was rushed onto a last-minute retreat at another lab. It's one of those classified things where we turn our phones off. I'm sorry I could let you know Baby," he said softly.

"It's no problem, but this other lab... was it nice? Good coffee?" you asked skeptically.

"Yeah, it was alright—" Miguel started.

"Ha! I knew it! Miguel, have you been seeing another barista?" you jokingly asked him. Just then she heard a low sound break the silence between them. He had never fully laughed around her, but once she heard it, it was music to her ears. I would become a stand-up comedian if it meant hearing this beautiful laugh all day, you thought to yourself.

"Oh Baby, I've missed you so much," he confessed with a few chuckles.

"Alright then, sit down and lemme make you a coffee that will top whatever you drank at that 'other lab'," you said motioning for him to take a seat at his usual table.

Instead of taking his laptop out and getting straight to work, he just watched you. He watched you make the most simple but best coffee he had ever tasted. Once he took a sip, it felt like home. "This is that special brew you used at your place isn't it?" he asked with an amused smile.

"Yeah, I figured since you liked it so much, I would make you a nice big cup of it," you explained as you took a seat across from him.

You and Miguel caught each other up on the events that had passed while you were apart. Miguel couldn't stop talking about how much he learned at this fancy schmancy lab he visited with Alchemax in Washington D.C. and how much he learned about quantum physics. You didn't understand half of the terms he was using but that didn't matter because at least he was having a good time. Seeing him talking about something he was passionate about set fireworks off in your chest. You filled him in on the usual Café gossip and drama that was going on.

It was a lovely night of shared laughs and stories but it had to come to an end at some point. Just when he was about to leave you decided to ask him about the voicemail you had sent. "Miguel, did you ever listen to my voicemail?" you asked.

"No, I didn't have the time, should I?" he answered.

"No, just delete it. What I said was pretty embarrassing," you admitted.

"Well now I’m dying to hear it," he teased.

"Oh please don't," you whined.

"Too late!" he called out as he stepped out to his car and visibly pressed the button.

You begged God to allow the earth to swallow you whole and just began to wipe the counter. Just then the door swung open with violent speed and the bells rang crazily. You turned around to see Miguel out of breath holding his phone in one hand, running his hand through his hair with the other. "Baby?" he huffed completely out of breath from running back to the store the second he heard the voicemail.

"Did you mean what you said in that voicemail?" he asked in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah, I guess, but—" you started. But Miguel held his hand up for you to stop. you took that sudden motion as defeat. He doesn't think the same way, you realize in complete despair.

Next Pt.7...

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent@lotionlamp@local-mr-frog@scaleniusrm@migueloharastruelove@thedevax@veyveys@amber-content

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi

I was wondering whether u were taking requests for The Other Half.

Can u pls write a fic where the shop girl and bruce have an unplanned pregnancy or something along the lines of it.

I luv u and ur fics sm

Hav a great day

I opted for a pregnancy scare rather tan a full-blown pregnancy; hope that's okay! also the form of this chapter is a little different.

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Canon-typical violence; angst! ! Much angst.

You have a bad, bad headache.

“She awake yet?” 

Almost an entire week late. That was a lot of late, way more than you’ve ever been before. You’d taken a test and it turned up negative, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t be positive in a day or two.

A baby?

Are you even ready to have a child? Is Bruce? You’re hardly seen with one another in public these days.

“Not yet.” 

The possibility has caused complete and total distraction—to the point of…Well, what would you call this. A severe mishap? Failure? 

“We get anything back from Wayne?” 

“No.” 

A messy, messy morning. 

“Maybe he’s not really fucking her.” 

A spilled cup of coffee, a favorite blouse completely ruined. 

“They were in all the papers together.” 

“Yeah, but that was months ago. I told you we should’ve gone for Liz Wyatt. No one knows who the hell this bitch is.” 

You'd had a biting, short-tempered conversation with Bruce before you’d stormed over to the elevator and insisted that you’d get yourself to work and back.

“Maybe he’s not really rich.” 

“Please. The guy’s turds are worth more than what we make in a month. Bet they’re gold-flaked and shit…Anyway, it’s only been a few hours. Don't panic yet…Fuckin’ pussy.” 

A bad day at work, a really, really crappy takeout lunch, and a stupid, stupid move as you’d come out of the office building to head home. 

“Don’t call me that, shithead.” 

An unfamiliar car, the blur of a face before a cloth had been pressed over your nose and mouth and someone had yanked you close form behind. Panic, tight breaths, and then—

“Alright, wake ‘er up.” 

Darkness. Darkness and silence that slowly gave rise to—

“How do you want me to do that? Slap her?” 

Two nattering voices volleying arguments, questions, commands back and forth for the past half hour—

You gasp, sputtering as water is poured over you. You cough roughly as some of it catches in your dry throat, hinging forward as your throat and chest ache with the force. You draw in a deep breath as soon as you’re able, blinking rapidly and trying to get a better look at your surroundings. When you’d first come to, you’d realized how tightly your arms were zip tied behind yourself to the beam that you’d been propped against, and your ankles were zip tied in front of you. The floor beneath you is hard as hell, and you kind of have to pee. You've spent your time awake feigning unconsciousness in the hopes that they'd leave you alone.

Your gaze catches on two sets of steel-toed boots, and slowly travels up, up—You wince, squinting against the harsh overhead light illuminating the dank warehouse. You recoil at their faces, your whacking against the wide pole behind you. The two laugh cruelly, making embarrassment curdle in your stomach. One crouches down, roughly gripping your jaw and turning your face toward him. You can’t squirm away like you’d like, and you’re forced to smell his acrid breath. 

“Why don’t you get comfortable, honey,” He chuckles. “We’re waiting on your boyfriend.”

--  

“Will you be dining alone this evening?” 

Bruce glances over at Alfred, trying not to grimace at his pointed question. He shifts on the couch, sinking down in his seat a little under his guardian’s scrutiny. 

“She should be back soon.” 

“Have you heard from her?” 

Not one word, all day. Bruce had checked his phone almost obsessively throughout the day, looking for missed calls or texts, but there hadn’t been a thing from her. Bruce had considered reaching out first, but he was still sort of pissed. He’d spent the day trying to figure out what the hell he'd done wrong, what she’d gotten so damn worked up about. He couldn’t think of a single thing. 

“Perhaps you ought to call and let her know that we’re at the mansion,” Alfred hedges again. Bruce considers it for a moment, glancing at his blank phone screen. Maybe he could…No. 

“She needs her space,” He insists. “She’s mad at me.” 

Alfred hesitates for a moment before he turns away. It may be overstepping his bounds, but he fishes into his pocket for his phone. He sends two texts—one saying that he hopes that she’s had a good day, and another asking if she needs a ride home. He sends them, and waits…And waits…And frowns. Neither message delivers. He turns back to the couch just in time to see Bruce reaching for his phone, then going still and ultimately leaning back in his seat, sliding even further down like a moody teen. 

Perhaps Alfred ought to simply take a look for himself.

--  

He asks the first woman coming out of the Wayne Enterprises building—someone that Bruce recently had him run a background check on. 

“Pardon me, Ms...James? Rose James?” He smiles, as the young woman stops in her tracks. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could ask after a friend of ours.”

Rose’s brows raise as he offers the name. 

“Oh,” She laughs, “She left hours ago. In this huff, too, like a funk? Like not a smelly funk, like a mood kinda funk.” 

Alfred fights to keep his composure, his hands still clasped in front of himself. 

“Ah, of course,” He forces a laugh, “I must’ve confused my days. My apologies, Ms. James—and thank you for your time.” He turns away from her, fishing into his pocket for his phone and eyeing his messages. They still haven’t been delivered. 

Something does not feel right. 

--  

You close your eyes, letting your throbbing head rest back against the pole. You have to distract yourself from your aching arms, and the sharp tingling of your legs and feet falling asleep. You’ve got to think of something else. 

What would you even name a baby? 

Your stomach flips at the thought, and you wince a little. Of all things to think about right now…Then again, what else have you got to do? 

Does Bruce want kids? The two of you have never actually discussed kids…Or marriage, or officially moving in with one another. Maybe you would’ve had those conversations if the two of you hadn’t been photographed kissing in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises, or leaving the vacation house of your Valentine’s retreat. Maybe you’d have had the conversations if Bruce wasn’t…Bruce. 

“Anything?” You hear one of the thieves say to the other. 

“No.” 

“Hmph.” 

You draw in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as the same slim man leans in toward you. You get a better look at him this time—at his cold, grey eyes, pallid skin and yellowing teeth. 

“You better hope that Wayne answers soon,” He warns, drawing a knife out of his boot. You flinch as he raises it, lightly tapping the tip of it on the underside of your chin. “If he doesn’t, you’ll be leaving here in bits.” 

--  

“Did Rose say what time she left?” Bruce asks, practically bounding off of the elevator and over to the computers deeper in the cave. Alfred follows as quickly as he can, shaking his head. 

“She didn’t, and I neglected to ask.”

Bruce yanks his chair back, reaching down and hurriedly tapping into the security camera feed around Wayne Enterprises. His eyes scan the screen studiously as he winds the security footage back to when she typically leaves work. He stops it there, then skims through the footage a little faster. 

“Wait, there—” Alfred points, “Go back.” 

Bruce rewinds again slightly before he presses play on the footage. His heart leaps into his throat as he watches a man put something over her mouth, her body going limp as two men drag her into a van and take off. He hurriedly changes the camera angle and pauses the footage, zooming in on the license plate. 

Bruce glances over as he sees something move out of his periphery, and frowns when he spots someone leaving something on the front door step. 

“Alfred.” 

“Yes?” 

“Go grab that, would you?” 

--  

“You just dropped it off?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Just now, you just dropped it off? Oh, for fuckssake!” 

You peer warily over at where a third man has hurried in and joined the first two. 

“I got stuck in traffic!” 

“That’s some weak–ass excuse, Frank.” 

“Hey, don’t use names,” The new guy nods over his shoulder toward you, “In front of the girl.” 

“Oh, you worried about her knowing your name? Knowing your face?” 

“Well—” 

“Good point, Frank.” The shot rings out, and you can’t hold back your rough, dry-throated scream as the man raises a gun without hesitation and kills Frank, sending the man sprawling to the ground. He lowers the gun, turning to look at you and gesturing toward Frank’s body. 

“I known Frank twenty years. I do that to him, can you imagine what I’ll do to you?”

--  

“The van took a route through downtown before it crossed the bridge into the Narrows—What’s that?” Bruce asks, glancing back as Alfred approaches again with a small envelope

“It’s addressed to you, sir.” 

Bruce takes it hesitantly, frowning. He takes hold of it, looking over it before he flips it over and opens it. His blood runs cold as he draws out a photograph of her—unconscious, and tied up. His other hand crinkles the envelope, unable to help it as his rage builds. He turns the photo over, frowning when he sees the untidy, scratchy writing. 

“What’s it say?” 

“There’s a phone number.” Bruce tosses the envelope aside before he turns back to the console, punching the number in.

“You’re calling?” 

“It’s probably a burner.” He only has to wait a few moments before someone picks up, and watches as his system traces the signal. 

“Took you long enough, Wayne.” 

“I called the moment I got the envelope.” 

There’s a pause, a grumble on the other side, and his heart stutters as he hears a gunshot. 

“What the hell was that?” He snaps. 

“Don’t worry about it. Listen,” The man sighs. “Two million in cash. No cops.” 

“Where is she?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I want to talk to her.” 

“You’ve got twenty four hours, Mr. Wayne. Call when you have the cash. I’ll send you an address.” 

Bruce opens his mouth to argue, but before he can, the man hangs up. Bruce clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to punch a hole through one of the screens. He tips his chin up, eyeing the spot on the map the phone signal came from. 

“Alfred.” 

“Sir?”

“Take one of the cars, one with heavily tinted windows. Drive into the city, take as much money as you can at an ATM, from tellers, wherever you can get it.” 

“What for?” 

“After that, I want you to come back, use the number on the back of that photo and call it. Get an address.” 

“And bring it to them?” 

“They might be watching the house. I want them to think I’m doing what they said. Don't worry,” Bruce turns away, striding toward the suit. "I'll get there before you do."

--  

Names. What would you even name a kid? You’d probably want to give them a normal name…Well normal as in a typical spelling, and not some over-voweled, extra-consonanted monstrosity, like Mickayleigh or Jostlelynn or Redgeena. 

What were his parents' names? You furrow your brow, trying to remember. You haven’t spoken to Bruce about his parents much, either. Fuck, the more you think about it, there’s so much that you haven’t talked about, that you don’t know...That you may never get to find out.

“He’s got the money.” 

You glance back toward the triumphant whoop of one of the men. 

“Wayne?” He asks.

“Nah, the old guy. He's heading to the drop-off point.” 

Alfred? Your brow furrowed as you tipped your head back against the pole. You had no idea why Alfred would be the one getting cash—

You suck in a shocked breath as the room is suddenly plunged into darkness. You hear the two men tripping over one another, followed by a scuffle and a curse. 

“You alright, man?” 

“Tripped over Frankie—Ugh, he’s cold—”

You wince as the lights suddenly flicker back on, and your heart leaps when you see Batman standing over the fallen robber. The man looks up, and before he can fully get out his yell of, “Oh, shi—”, you see Bruce lifting his foot. You wince, turning your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the man yowl in pain. 

It’s like being in the middle of a horror movie. You can hear what’s happening, and you desperately want to look to assuage your own morbid curiosity, but you’re worried that what you’ll see will be so much worse than you’re imagining. You hear gunshots, grunts, yelps, the cracking of bone, and then—

Nothing. You hear nothing. 

It’s another few moments before you hear the thudding of boots approaching. You dare to peek a single eye open just in time to see the edge of his cape as he rounds the pole. You hear a snick, chased by the feeling of your arms being untied. You groan as they fall limply to your sides, feeling about as heavy as a ton of bricks. He rounds you, crouching down in front of you and untying your ankles as well. It takes you a few moments to reach out, your arms weary and weak from their stretching, and the lack of blood flow. Bruce takes your hands in his gloved ones, easing you off of your feet and shushing you softly when you whimper and stumble into his chest. 

"Are you hurt?"

"No—"

"—They didn't hurt you—?"

"No!" You swear, forcing your pained arms up to wrap around him. He turns his head, lips brushing against your temple.

“It’s alright,” He murmurs. “I’ve got you.” 

--  

"You didn't recognize either of them?"

"No."

“So what you've told me, that’s all you remember?” Commissioner Gordon asks. “No names?” 

You shake your head a little, eyeing the floor. “Apart from the one guy…Frankie? They were pretty careful about not saying who they were when I was awake.” 

“Frankie was, uh…” He checks his notes, “The one that was shot twice, laying on the floor?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did Batman shoot Frankie?”

“What?” You frown. “No. One of the other guys did that. The, uh…The thin-ish one, with really bad teeth.” 

“And the other one?” 

“He didn’t say much to me.” 

“So…Batman came in and got you out.” 

“Yes.” 

“And dropped you off here at the precinct.” 

“Yes.” 

Commissioner Gordon’s brows jump before they lower again, and he jots something else down. 

“How much longer is this going to take?” Bruce grumbles.

Gordon’s gaze flickers over to where Bruce is still pacing behind you. 

“We’re nearly through here, Mr. Wayne.” 

You hear Bruce huff, followed by the thud of him slouching against the door. It’s a moment before Gordon is shifting in his seat, redirecting his attention. 

“Remind me where you were, Mr. Wayne?” 

“At my mansion.” 

He reports it flatly, and even in your weariness, you have to bite back a smile. 

“We have footage of your butler driving around and taking out money.” 

“I don’t keep that much cash on hand.” 

“And you were just going to pull as much money out as you possibly could?” 

“Whatever it took to get her back.” 

You lean back in your seat as some of the fear, panic, and anxiety well up again. You can feel tears prickling in your eyes, your chest tightening. Commission Gordon sighs, nodding. 

“I think that’s enough for today. I may have a few follow-up questions in the next few days.” 

“Of course,” Bruce answers for both of you, and you’re grateful for it. He comes closer, taking hold of your hand and helping you up. You still feel a little woozy, and you lean heavily against him. 

“I’m sorry to tell you, but there’s a lot of press outside. We, uh…” Gordon rounds the desk, opening the door to his office for you. “We set up barricades to get you from the door to your car without too much hassle.”  

“There isn’t a back exit?” 

“I’m afraid they’ve got the building surrounded, Mr. Wayne.” 

Bruce pushes a heavy sigh through his nose before he mutters quietly in concession. You don’t meet anyone’s eye as he leads you through the bullpen to the elevator, or as Commissioner Gordon gets on with you. 

“Are you driving?” You murmur. Bruce shakes his head, lips brushing your forehead. 

“Alfred is.” 

Alfred. It’ll be nice to see another friendly face. Bruce leads you off of the elevator, fishing into his pocket and drawing out a pair of sunglasses. 

“Put these on,” He orders, “And keep your head down. I’ll get us to the car.” 

You nod, putting on the thick, chunky sunglasses. They practically obscure half of your face. 

“Ready?” Bruce asks. You nod again, tucking yourself more tightly into his side as Commissioner Gordon opens the door. You don’t even have the chance to step a foot outside before you’re bombarded by the flashing of cameras, and yelled questions coming from all directions. It makes you want to run back inside and find some quiet corner to curl up in, but Bruce wraps his arm tightly around your shoulders, steering you to the car. You almost stumble trying to keep up with the pace he sets, fighting to keep your steps even and quick as he guides you down the path that the cops have set up and into the car.

As soon as the door is shut behind you, you sag down in your seat and draw your sunglasses off, peering through the heavily-tinted windows at the mob of press. The sound is let in again as Bruce gets in on the other side of the backseat, and as Alfred gets into the driver’s seat. It’s not a clean peeling away from the curb—a few press still crowd around the front, trying to get shots of you and Bruce through the windshield—but Alfred finally pulls away, and it feels like you can breathe again. 

--  

As you strip down to shower—as you suddenly feel an acute cramping in your lower stomach—you start to cry, the full weight of the day crashing down around you. Bruce turns back from where he’s been turning the knobs to heat up the water, and through your kaleidoscope of tears, you can see his expression melting from confusion to sadness. He reaches out, drawing you into his chest, and you go willingly. You don’t even care that his hands are wet from checking to see if the water is warm enough. You just bury your face in his chest and let every bit of your fear and worry drain from you. 

--  

“...Thought you had it already.”

“Hm?” You hum softly.

“Your period.” 

You wince at the comment, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Bruce’s chest. You’d thought that you’d have to have this conversation at some point in the next few days, but right now, tucked into his side in bed, you can’t think of anything you’d like to talk about less. Still, you trail your fingers along his side, weighing your words before you admit: 

“I was late.” 

“How late?” 

“A week.” 

Bruce is quiet for a few moments, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. 

“Did you think…?” He hedges.

“Yeah.” 

“...Is that why you almost took my head off this morning?” 

“Yes…Sorry, by the way.” 

“S’okay.” 

Is it? 

You let it hang in the air for a moment. You could let the conversation pass. You could just move—

“Would you have been happy?” You hedge, “If…I was?” 

A few moments of harrowing silence as Bruce’s fingers skate over your bare back. 

“I don’t know.” 

It’s honest, at least, but it doesn’t feel good. Yes was what you’d been hoping for. But I don’t know? You can feel yourself tearing again, and you bite down on your inner cheek, just nodding when you feel him looking down at you. He sighs heavily, murmurs, “Sweetheart,” But he doesn’t get all of it out before you’re pulling away from him and pushing yourself to sit up. You draw in a few deep breaths to steady yourself, raising your hands to swipe away the few tears that escape. To his credit, Bruce gives you the space that you need, sitting up and staying on his side of the bed. 

“Look at what happened to you today,” He points out. 

“That could’ve happened to anybody,” You grumble.

“Not like this. It happened because people know that you’re with me. It’s dangerous for you. And if it hadn’t just been you, if we ever…” It takes him a moment. “If we ever had a child, they would be a target, too.”

You sniffle softly, tucking your arms around your middle and fisting your fingers in the fabric of your sleep shirt. You know that he’s right, and you want to hate him for it.

“Is that why we never talk about that stuff?” You ask. 

“What stuff?” 

“Our future.” You turn your head back toward him, watching him in your periphery. You can see his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze set ahead. 

“It’s not an easy conversation to have.” 

“Is that all we can have? Easy conversations?” 

“That’s not what I meant. Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

You sniffle again, turning away from him and looking down at the sheets. You feel Bruce scooch a little closer, sliding his hand along your lower back before he gently draws you back against him. You lean against him, pouting a touch as your cramps flare. Bruce nuzzles against your hair, dropping a kiss there. 

“Today was a lot,” He murmurs. “Can we just…Can we get some sleep? Talk about this tomorrow?” 

You nod, letting Bruce steer you to lay back down. You rest your head on his shoulder, fingers absently tracing shapes on his chest. 

“...For the record,” You offer softly, “Those men did what they did because they were greedy. I’m safe because of you, Bruce.” 

Bruce’s grip tightens on you, and you snuggle closer, sliding your leg over his and pressing as close as possible despite the twinging in your belly. 

Next Part