#'is Mads climbing back up yet? no? still stuck down there?'

[abarbaricyalp]

A Precious Few, These Precious Days I'll Spend With You 🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂

"Hey, Uncle Sam? Why are people on the internet mad that you and Bucky broke up?" Cass asked as he sat beside Sam on the front porch and dug out pumpkin seeds from the giant bowl of pumpkin mush.

"'Cause people think they're entitled to an opinion about our lives just because we're in the news a lot," Sam answered and deposited more pumpkin insides directly where Cass had just been almost done with the seeds.

Cass scowled at the bowl but got over it quickly. "Yeah, no, I know that one. You've said that one before," he agreed. "Mostly I meant, why do people on the internet think you and Bucky broke up?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked in his sneaky-not-sneaky way. The way he always tried to prod for gift ideas while thinking he was being cool about it. He was never cool about it. "You know Bucky is working with a new boss and we decided that was an irreconcilable difference."

Cass rolled his eyes so hard he thought he'd prove his mama right and get them stuck like that. "You're really gonna try'n lie to me, Uncle Sam? He's stealing my Fig Newtons. I saw him the other night. No one else eats those except me and him."

"How is Bucky stealing your cookies from my kitchen?" Sam asked, not cool at all. His not-sneaky side eye had disappeared and now he was staring into the pumpkin like there was anything in it. "He lives in DC now."

"Oh, yeah," Cass added. He wiped his hand on his jeans and ignored Sam's half hollered objection to that. He pulled out his phone and then pulled up a screenshot from a video call. "That's the kitchen you designed, right?" he asked, showing Sam the pretty kitchen Bucky had been walking through on their call.

"Why are you face timing my ex?" Sam asked, reaching to snatch the phone away.

"I'm trying to convince him to cut his hair." Cass kept his phone out of Sam's reach. "And! And-- and that's your head, isn't it?" he added, sliding to another picture and zooming in on a blurry spot over the back of Bucky's couch. He scooted a step away before showing his phone this time.

"Since when do you talk to Bucky on the phone?"

Cass scoffed as he locked his phone back. "I've been talking to Bucky on the phone since the first night he stayed here," he said. "He used to sneak AJ and me snacks after bedtime."

"Of course he did. I don't know what you think you know but you don't know it."

Cass pretended to count out the logic in that sentence and gave up. "What I know is: You and Bucky never broke up. He's still coming down to see you and you see him up in DC. You two made this house together and you made one up there together too. Which is so unfair. That's two of everything! Did you make sure there's a good climbing tree up there? When can I go see it? The house, not the tree. But, yeah, the tree too."

"You can't go see it. It's Bucky's house, not mine. I've never been there." Sam stood, setting aside the pumpkin hastily and retreating inside. "I was stealing your cookies and Bucky obviously just has a type," he said as the screen door shut between them.

Cass scrambled to his feet too, bringing both bowls of pumpkin insides with him before the squirrels could eat all of the seeds like they did last year. He struggled with the door and Sam was no help, but he did get inside. He set the bowls into the sink-- the same kind of farm sink Bucky had in his videos-- with a clatter and followed his uncle into the sun room.

"You're allergic to figs; you're not stealing my cookies. And I think Bucky's type begins and ends with you."

Sam sputtered out an indignation that wasn't actually words. He kept fiddling with his record player and Cass thought about telling him not to turn up the volume to drown out the conversation. He thought about telling him that was the same silly thing AJ did and AJ wasn't even a preteen yet and did he really want to be acting like a kid? Except, yeah, probably. Mama and Sam fought like kids all the time, even though they were always fussing at Cass and AJ to act their ages and behave.

"How come you're pretending to be broken up?" Cass insisted before Sam could get the record set. "It's not like it's gonna fool anyone. Not saying y'all were dating in the first place never fooled anyone."

Sam sighed and set the record down on the cradle but didn't lower the needle. "It's safer this way."

Cass made a face and crossed his arms. He'd turned fifteen two months ago (and there'd been a mysterious package left for him in the kitchen with a note in Bucky's old timey scrawl, imagine that) and everyone kept saying he had become a fine young man. But the old ladies from church still giggled and cooed when he stood like this and tried to tell AJ anything. 'Playing at being grown' they always said. He was really going for more of the fine young man right now.

"Safer like how it was safer for you to move back to DC after you became Captain America?" he asked. "And then you had to come back to save the day anyway?"

Sam shot him a sharp look but he didn't argue. Cass had never met his grandfather and he couldn't remember his daddy much at all, but he was pretty certain that look was down deep in the Wilson Family bones, genetic and otherwise. Still, he prodded closer.

"Do you really think neither of you are gonna go running as soon as the other is in trouble? Or that your bosses and all the other heroes don't know?"

"Cassius Adam," Sam warned.

Cass let out a huff. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. I didn't even tell AJ or mama. AJ would sit up looking for him all night of he thought he might be around."

Sam kind of flinched and Cass wasn't sure why. He hadn't meant it in a mean way. He wasn't even really being mean to AJ. It was just true. AJ was obsessed with Bucky and would search for him in every shadow if he might be there.

"Good, you shouldn't tell anyone," Sam said instead of addressing anything else more important that Cass had been talking about. "Remember how he used to play spies with you? Play spies again. You can't talk to anyone about anything he's doing. Even if it's just hanging out in the kitchen or whatever."

Cass already knew all of that. That's why he hadn't said anything. He'd been living with Captain America and the Winter Soldier for more than three years now. He knew how to handle it. It was kind of insulting that Uncle Sam didn't think he had this down pat.

"I'm not gonna spill," he said. "But you shouldn't lie either. What if something happens and mama doesn't know what to do, huh?"

"Happens with what?" Sam asked. He leaned back against the record stand and crossed his arms, a mirror of Cass, just a little to the left. "With Bucky? That has nothing to do with you, your brother, or your mama, alright?"

"No, but it has to do with you. What if you go running off to save him and something happens and you didn't tell anyone anything 'cause you're pretending like you don't like each other? Then what?"

"And you think that rescuing me is gonna be your responsibility?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Cass felt his cheeks heat a little. Yes, yes he did, actually. He was getting old enough for it. Elijah wasn't that much older than him when Sam first met him. "It's gotta be somebody's responsibility," he answered levelly, instead of saying any of that, cause that would just lead to a new lecture and possibly getting grounded for the rest of his life.

"It's not your responsibility," Sam corrected. "I've got grown ups helping me. Your responsibility is geometry." He pushed himself off of the record stand. The record was still on it, which Cass knew would drive Sam nuts once he remembered it in a few hours.

"If you're saving Bucky, who has your back?" Cass countered as Sam tugged on one of his curls and walked by.

"Torres," Sam answered easily.

"Nuh-uh," Cass argued. "Torres isn't an adult. You said he can't even babysit 'cause he'll let us try the wings." Cass followed after Sam back into the house and into his bedroom. He pointedly tossed one of Bucky's hoodies from the floor into the hamper.

Sam ignored him. "Just 'cause I don't trust Torres to keep you two on the ground doesn't mean I don't trust him for other things."

"That doesn't even make sense. Uncle Sam!" he whined and threw himself across the bed dramatically. He clutched the edges of the old Wilson quilt (which Sam had totally stolen from the house when he moved out) and rolled twice to wrap himself in it. "You're supposed to have backup. Bucky is your backup."

Sam pulled down the top edge of the quilt so he could see Cass's face. He sat beside him and rubbed at the approximate location of Cass's shoulder. "You're really worried about me, huh?"

"No," Cass lied. "I just don't like you and Bucky lying to us. I don't like you two being separate either. It's easier knowing you have each other's backs."

"Well, sometimes things happen and we can't have the security blanket we want," Sam started to explain, choosing his words carefully. "Bucky and I are both going to be okay, even if we aren't together. And sometimes a little bit of a lie can help. Superheroes. A little bit of a lie can help superheroes, not fifteen year olds. Bucky is running his own mission and having Captain America on his tail constantly isn't going to help him. And the same thing for me. Captain America needs a little bit of distance from what Bucky's doing."

Cass glowered and flipped the blanket over his face again. "That's lying," he insisted. "Nothing good comes from lying."

"I can't believe your mama is keeping that old phrase going," Sam sighed. "Look, can you be bribed?"

Cass lowered the blanket down again. "With what?"

"I'll let you know when he's around and it's safe, alright? You can come hang out with us if you want. You can see that we're alright."

Cass watched his uncle's face for any sign of a lie and he parsed out the offer for any possible ways out of it. Sure, Sam could say every visit was too dangerous, but Cass was pretty certain he wouldn't.

"Like spies?" he asked cautiously. "Just us?"

"Just us until your brother puts it together too," Sam agreed. "Just like spies."

After a moment of more consideration, Cass nodded. "Fine. I'll stop complaining and I won't tell anyone about it unless something goes wrong."

Sam grimaced a little (Cass knew he wanted to argue with that part about things going wrong) but he nodded too. "It's a deal."

Cass flipped the blanket over his face again and did another half roll so he wasn't facing Sam. "Can we put cinnamon sugar on some of the seeds?" he asked. "I don't like it when they're all hot."

Sam laughed a little and he sounded kind of relieved at the change in conversation. "Sweet pumpkin seeds?" he asked. "I've never tried that before. I bet we can make it work."

Yeah, Cass thought to himself, they could make this work.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I really am a sucker for two people going from hissing like cats at each other to "due to deeply unfortunate events, I now trust this person with my life." And I'm all for shipping but I mean this platonically, as well, two friends that started out thinking the other person is the most annoying individual on the planet and ending up at soft smiles and warm hugs and "you trust me right?" "absolutely."

[fastandcarlos]

Never An Interruption : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life

Your smile was wide as you watched Max climb up to the top of the podium again, thousands of fans cheering all around you. It still felt surreal as you watched him climb to the top, proudly taking the trophy that was handed to him. 

His eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, giggling to himself once Max’s eyes met yours, noticing the excitable look that was on your face. You were stood just beside Christian, right at the front, exactly where Max always asked for you to be whenever you were there supporting him at a race so that you got to see everything. 

Once the celebrations were over, Max was rushed off to do interviews and gush about his win whilst you returned to the paddock, knowing you’d be able to catch up with Max later. 

It was as chaotic as ever as you watched the engineers begin to sort everything out, packing up ready to head to the next race. You usually didn’t mind waiting around, but today particularly you were on the edge of your seat with excitement about being able to see Max again. 

The race had been a lot closer than usual, leaving you on tenterhooks. Max had fought much more closely with Charles, swapping the lead between the pair until Max just edged him on the last straight. You were proud at the best of times, but today especially, you were thrilled that he managed to get the win. 

After checking your watch to see how late it was again, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You excused yourself from the paddock, heading down to the team’s motorhome, walking straight through to where Max’s driver’s room was, darting between the crowd of hospitality guests. 

It had almost become a bit of a second home for you too, having spent years travelling around the world to support your best friend. You knew the paddock like the back of your hand, and most of the people that were walking around in blue too. 

And despite the fact he had hundreds of people working around the paddock for him, the only person that really meant the most to Max was you. His best friend. 

As you approached the door, you weren’t surprised to hear some noise from inside. You listened for a moment before knocking gently, walking in before Max answered, exactly like he’d told you to do years ago when you first started visiting him.  

You barely managed to step foot into the room before it felt like you were being ushered back out. A nervous looking Max looked at you, hair messy as he ran his hand through it. 

“You alright?” Max smiled, unable to stand still. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, trying your best to figure out what was going on as Max’s nervous eyes stuck on you. 

“I was just about to come and find you.” 

“It’s lucky I came and found you then,” you laughed, turning to take a seat on his bed, only to stop yourself just as fast. A figure stared back at you, one that you didn’t recognise but left you feeling incredibly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t realise that you...yeah...I’ll just...go,” you stuttered, rushing back out of the room. 

Your body jolted as you were met by the crowd of guests yet again, rushing out before any of them caught sight of you. Your feet couldn’t move quick enough, heading back out into the fresh air and in any direction that took you as far away from Red Bull as possible.  

Once you were sat down, your head fell into your hands, letting go of several shaky breaths. Whilst you and Max were the best of friends, your heart wasn’t prepared to see someone else there with him. You knew you shouldn’t be mad, upset, hurt, he was free to do whatever, but for some reason, it still stung. 

It didn’t take long before a figure appeared beside you, almost as soon as you left the room, Max ran out to follow, sprinting all around the paddock in search of you. 

You remained frozen as Max dropped down to sit beside you, letting go of a deep sigh at how hostile you were towards him.  

“Please don’t shut me out,” Max frowned, noticing how tense your body was. 

“Haven’t you got somewhere else to be?” You coldly asked. 

“Not when I know your upset, of course I haven’t,” Max reasoned, nudging gently against your side, silently asking for you to look at him again. 

“If I knew you had company then I never would have burst in like that,” you tried your best to explain, feeling your cheeks begin to darken again, “I’ll stop doing that now.” 

“I love having you burst in,” Max tried his best to assure you, “you’re my best friend and never an interruption.” 

“I know,” you murmured, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice as Max reminded you. 

“What is it?” Max quizzed, knowing you too well, knowing exactly when you were hiding something from him. 

“Nothing...you just go back and be with your girlfriend, you should be celebrating,” you tried to tell him. 

“No way,” he stated, shrugging as your eyes pleaded with him. 

Max’s bluntness took you by surprise, your body almost jumped at how firm he was with his response to you. 

He sensed that too, muttering a quick apology as he realised how taken aback you suddenly were by him. 

“You can’t leave your girlfriend all by herself,” you repeated, reminding Max as to where his priorities should be. Not with you anymore. But with her. 

A small smile crept onto his face, “is that what you think that was?” 

Your shoulders shrugged, truthfully you couldn’t make sense of anything right now. You were sure that if Max had a girlfriend, then he would’ve told you, but maybe he didn’t trust in you quite as much as you thought he did. 

“She works for Red Bull, just came in to help me with something,” Max tried his best to explain with you, “there’s no one more important to me than you are, you know that’s never going to change.” 

Your eyes met Max’s, quickly noticing how sincere he was. His smile widened as he noticed the reality of what he was saying sinking in, reminding you just where his priorities were. 

“I thought you were with her,” you admitted. 

Max nodded back at you, “there’s only one person that I want to be with, and that’s the person I’m with right now.” 

Your heart raced as you listened, watching as Max’s smile grew wider, proud of himself for finally telling you the truth. 

“You mean that?” You nervously asked him. 

Max reached across and rested his hand over the top of yours, “I can’t believe you ever thought I would want to be someone more than I do you. You’re perfect.” 

You turned your hand so that it was palm to palm with Max, allowing your fingers to intertwine in with his. Max’s free arm held around your waist, keeping you as close into his side as he could have you. 

A nervous smile appeared on your face, resting your head on Max’s shoulder so that he could no longer see you. 

“Please don’t tell me these things just because you want to cheer me up,” you asked of him, wondering if what was happening really was true. 

“I mean every single word,” Max assured, “it only ever really has been you.” 

Max moved his hand so that it was under your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes met again. “Where do we go from here?” You whispered, feeling yourself losing control at an alarming rate. 

“I’m not sure,” Max whispered, “but I know that wherever we go from here, it’s going to make me an incredibly happy man.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, Max leant down, pressing the gentlest of kisses against your lips, finally getting to live out the dream that had troubled him for so many years. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[catslvrr]

hiding in plain sight

kim minji x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being stuck in an elevator is bad. Being stuck in an elevator with Minji, however, is very good.

Contains: mentions of drinking, cursing

Song: Glue Song — Beabadoobee, Clairo

You should’ve known that your laziness would come back to bite you in the ass one day.

“Alright,” Hanni huffs, readjusting her tote bag strap. “This is where we part ways.”

You shift weight onto your right foot to bump shoulders with her. “Are you sure? The offer still stands.”

“Very sure,” she laughs as she glances at the daunting stairs on the right. “Need these bad boys muscled up.”

Hanni attempts a bodybuilder pose to flaunt her calf muscles, but barely anything shows. It’s a sad display. Maybe she really does need it.

“Shame,” you sigh dejectedly. “I’ll convince you one day.”

Every day for two months. That’s how long Hanni has devoted herself to taking the stairs rather than the elevator. You’ve tried almost everything to convince her, from horror stories to bribery to threats.

“Hanni, just get in the fucking elevator,” you hiss, violently slamming on the ‘open doors’ button. It’s ten in the evening, both of you just got back from a grueling study session in the library, and you’re about to drop dead.

It’s just your luck that she’s your roommate. You forgot your keys to the apartment, and there is no way in hell that you’re waiting fifteen minutes for her to climb however many flights of stairs it takes to get to the room.

“Nuh-uh,” she sing-songs, performing a pirouette for absolutely no reason other than to rub salt in the wound. “It’s fun seeing you mad.”

You grit your teeth. “I will tell everyone that you were the one who killed Lucy.”

A gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

(It was a tragedy. Lucy was a dearly loved succulent who sat on a window sill at the end of the hallway. Every resident would visit Lucy from time to time, and there was even a Facebook page to upload pictures of Lucy and its growth.

On the fateful day, you and Hanni had just returned from a rowdy night out, and of course, both of you were a tad bit too drunk. You dared her to do a cartwheel and Lucy was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Somebody had posted a picture of Lucy, sprawled out on the carpet, pieces of the broken pot surrounding it. Word spread throughout the apartment and there was a solemn funeral held for Lucy. Justice was demanded but the true culprit was never found… because you were her alibi.)

“But I would,” you say with a smirk. At this point, you’re surprised the button isn’t broken yet. You’re also sorry for anyone else who’s waiting for the elevator on other floors.

“It was your fault in the first place!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got video evidence.”

Hanni sags her shoulders in defeat. After a few seconds of thinking, she seems to perk up again.

“Tell them,” she declares defiantly. “It’s been months anyway. People deserve closure.”

She then marches toward the stairs. You hear the echoes of her stomping.

You see your confounded face in the reflection as the elevator doors close.

“Aren’t you the basketball player?” Hanni muses. “You should be jumping at the chance to get some cardio in.”

“I already went to the gym today,” you flex your bicep smugly and attempt a smoulder. “And I got practice later.”

“You look like a jackass,” she scoffs. “Don’t talk to me.”

She curtly turns and speedwalks to the stairs, the telltale sounds of heavy steps following soon after.

You reach for your headphones around your neck and belatedly realize that they’re missing. “Fuck!”

The steps stop. Hanni’s voice is booming down the stairwell. “What?”

“I think I left my headphones in class.”

Hanni spares you no sympathy and cackles as she continues up the stairs. “Loser!”

You groan and decide you’ll go and find it before practice later. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s taking a bit longer than usual today. You take a few minutes to scroll on your phone for a bit before you hear a familiar ding.

The elevator doors open and you walk in, but as you turn around to press the button to your floor, you see a face you weren’t expecting to see.

“Minji?” You tilt your head as she steps inside.

Minji offers a small smile and an awkward wave.

If you remember correctly, she’s friends with Haerin, who’s your team’s mascot. It’s such a shame she didn’t try out for the team because her height is ideal for the sport. You already have Hyein as a center, but she could probably pass as a power forward if she trained for it.

You notice that Minji is wearing the bottom half of the bear mascot. “Is Haerin okay?”

“Yeah,” she scratches her cheek. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather so I’m taking over for tomorrow’s game. Figured I’d get some practice before then.”

You’re about to ask about how the practice went, but the way she slumps in exhaustion against the railing tells you everything. You take note of the glistening sweat on her neck and the strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but it gives her a faint glow that gets you bothered.

“Aren’t you hot?” You raise an eyebrow. “I tried that on once and I almost passed out after doing a backflip.”

Minji looks down at the bear costume and shakes her head hurriedly. “I’m almost home.”

“You’re fifth floor, right?”

A nod. You take her nonverbal response as a sign of discomfort, and so you stop your attempts at conversation.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence before a metallic screech pierces your ears. You both stumble as the elevator comes to an unexpected halt.

“What the fuck,” you say, squinting at the buttons and displays. You poke around for a bit before realizing that the elevator isn’t moving.

You turn around to check on Minji, but it doesn’t seem like she’s faring well. Her face is pale white and she’s tightly gripping onto the rails.

“Hey,” you take a small step toward her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she snaps her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”

You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just take your time and breathe, okay? I’ll contact emergency services.”

Minji nods again and sits down in the corner. You watch her worriedly before checking your phone. Of course, there’s no service. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You click on the bright red emergency services button, expecting static or a voice to sound out, but there’s nothing. You press again. And again. You push and hold it for five seconds.

“Don’t panic,” you flash Minji with an awkward grin. “But it’s not working.”

“Oh God,” she blanches, and understandably begins to panic. “We’re gonna die.”

She stands up, still in the mascot costume, and paces around the elevator. “We’re going to run out of oxygen. We’ll suffocate to death. We’ll run out of food and die of starvation. No, we’ll die of dehydration before that. What if I need to pee?”

The costume makes the passionate rant all the more comical. Her rambling continues as she wrings her hands together. “I think I need to pee. The anxiety’s getting to me.”

You grimace. “Please don’t talk about pissing. It’ll make me wanna piss too.”

Minji’s still aggressively muttering to herself in blind terror, so you stop her by grabbing her arm. “Hey, relax.”

That only seems to worsen her agitation as she yanks her body away from you, her face burning red as she almost elbows you in the face. She squeaks, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” you wave it off with a laugh and squeeze her hand. It’s soft. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this pretty face.”

In this brief flustered state, Minji temporarily forgets about the panic and slides down to the floor like Jello. You squat down to meet her eye level. 

“Seriously though, it’ll be fine. The elevator has air vents so we’ll get enough circulation in here. And we’ll only be in here half an hour max. And about the pissing…” you trail off and take a quick peek at your duffle bag. “I have a bottle?”

Minji doesn’t reply, head in her hands. You make yourself comfortable and sit cross-legged opposite her.

“Will anyone notice you’re missing?”

“No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

Well, shit. Hanni probably thinks you’ve gone to find your headphones. “We might be here for more than an hour then.”

You clear your throat to break the awkward silence that ensues after. “How come I’ve never seen you around? We’re in the same year, right?”

“Our courses are in different buildings,” Minji says weakly. “My psych classes are far from the engineering buildings.”

“You already know what course I do?” You grin cheekily. “You must be a big fan.”

Minji hastily lifts her face, showcasing a burning blush. “No! I just… heard it from Haerin, that’s all.”

Your grin only widens. Like Haerin would ever talk about the team. She’s only there for the free post-game feeds. You choose to feign ignorance for her sake.

“You should take that off,” you suggest, noticing how Minji is uncomfortably squirming in the costume. “I’ll help with the zipper.”

“Okay,” Minji stammers, scrambling to get up on her feet.

You brush away some of her hair that’s covering the zipper and move it over her shoulder. Your fingers briefly brush over her neck, and all you can feel is how she’s burning hot. Minji almost imperceptibly shivers and jolts forward, choking on air. You pull the zipper down and watch with mirth as she clumsily wrestles out of the costume.

Minji stuffs it in her backpack and flops back down, hugging her backpack in her lap. You follow suit and sit a few inches away from her.

“Much better?”

She nods, still avoiding your gaze. You bite your cheek as you stare at her, trying to figure out a way to make conversation. You decide to fish your phone out of your pocket and pull up a recording of your last game, flashing her your screen as you pat the empty space next to you. “You wanna watch?”

Minji hesitates for a few seconds before shuffling closer. Her voice is small as she admits, “I was watching this game on the sidelines.”

You’re filled with a sense of pride at the news. But you also make a mental note to ponder on why you haven’t noticed her around before. “Really?”

“It’s not because of you or anything,” she adamantly denies, rubbing her nape, though you feel like her red cheeks contradict that.

“Anyone catch your eye?”

Her denial is half-hearted.

You pout teasingly. “Shame. I’ll play better next game.”

You save Minji from further embarrassment and press play. “You know how basketball works, right?”

“Each team has five players on the court… and the ball goes in the hoop?” Minji frowns.

“And?��

“And… you can’t run with the ball.”

“Basically,” you chuckle. “But there’s more to it.”

You rewind the video back to the beginning. “I hope you don’t mind me commentating.”

She shakes her head, and so you continue. “So this is one of the simplest plays in basketball: a pick and roll…”

You eventually finish the video and end up versing each other on the table hockey app on your phone. She’s surprisingly competitive and it’s endearing. You then somehow end up talking about card games, and you introduce her to the world of Inscryption through a gameplay video.

Halfway through the video, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. You crane your neck slightly and see Minji’s sleeping face. You smile and continue watching until you slowly drift off to sleep as well.

You’re both awoken with a sudden thud. Minji practically springs off of you and profusely apologizes, much to your amusement. You look up to see a firefighter opening the emergency escape hatch.

“You ladies alright?”

“Yes sir,” you drawl, checking your phone. “It’s just been two hours, no biggie.”

A ladder is dropped from the hatch and you both climb up, stretching your limbs as you stand on top of the elevator.

“This is so sick,” you pose as you take selfies. “I feel like I’m in some action movie.”

You tilt your phone to include Minji in the photos, and you laugh because she looks like she’s being held hostage.

The two of you are harnessed on some rope and pulled up by firefighters to safety. You’re shocked to see Haerin and Hanni there waiting. Hanni practically storms toward you and latches herself onto you like a koala, crying dramatically about your disappearance. You thank the firefighters as they pack up their equipment and begin to disperse.

“Hey Haerin,” you greet her with a strained voice, trying to peel Hanni off you. “You feeling better?”

“No,” she replies nasally. There’s a tissue stuffed in her right nostril. “But I’ll be there next game.”

You gift her with a slap on the back which earns you one in return, and you curse under your breath because she definitely hit you harder than you hit her. You ignore the stinging pain and swivel to meet Minji’s gaze that is already on you.

“Keep an eye on me next game?” You ask nonchalantly, but you must admit there’s a small part of you that twinges with hope. “I’ll play super duper good for you.”

Minji’s eyes widen in surprise before timidly answering with a stutter, “I will.”

“I’ll see you then!” You leave her with a side hug (where she awkwardly pats your back) before approaching Hanni. She gives you an eyebrow wiggle that you roll your eyes to in response. She is a hundred percent going to interrogate you at home. Both of you start the long climb to the apartment.

“Karma’s a bitch,” Hanni says obnoxiously. “That’s what you get for not taking the stairs.”

“Shut up JoJo Siwa,” you glower at her, but a lame grin graces your face when you remember your time spent with Minji. “I’d say it was a good thing.”

“Ew,” she gags. “Wipe that dopey smile off your face.”

You abruptly stop and grab Hanni’s arm. She turns around in confusion and sees your aghast expression. “What?”

“I missed practice. Yujin is gonna kill me.”

Tomorrow comes quicker than you expected, and you’re buzzing with nerves as you warm up on the sidelines. It’s not an important game, but your hands tremble a bit more today. You scan the court for a certain someone.

Danielle throws you a Gatorade. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” you blurt out a bit too quickly. You take a swig from the bottle to wash away your anxiety as you seat yourself on a bench.

“You sure?” Danielle quips with a knowing smile. “You’re shaking.”

You slam the bottle on the bench to shut down her jest. 

“Shouldn’t you be with Hyein?” You scowl as you shoo her away. “Go be a supportive friend and give her some encouraging words or something.”

Any lingering embarrassment flies out the window when you spot a big bear entering the building. You wave her over and laugh as she trips over someone’s stranded bag.

“Hi,” you smile.

You can barely hear Minji’s muffled voice through the head. “Hi.”

Your smile twitches as Hyein and Danielle appear behind Minji and start pulling childish faces. Your glare and subtle middle finger sends them away. “Wish me luck?”

The referee whistles as a signal for players to get on the court. Minji gives an awkward thumbs up, so you accept the fact that you have to initiate contact. You lean forward and kiss the stupid bear head. It’s a bit weird, but it’s worth it because you hear Minji’s breath hitch. 

She runs away promptly after. The game starts and you’ve never felt so motivated in your life.

The other team is irritatingly good at three-pointers, but your team’s size provides you with a solid advantage; you’re able to fight back through rebounding and shots inside the paint.

Your teammates are a bit puzzled at first when you keep hogging the ball and taking contested shots, but they’re not mad because you’re making them. The bewilderment quickly turns to disbelief when they realize you keep looking at the mascot after every shot.

“You’re so annoying,” Yujin grumbles during the half-time break. “This is not High School Musical.”

“Stop complaining, grandma.” You can feel your muscles ache from the overexertion, but the goal of impressing Minji takes priority. “We’re up by 20.”

“I think it’s cute!” Hyein interjects with an encouraging pinch of your cheek. “I can’t see Minji’s face but I bet she’s in love.”

Everyone turns as they hear a loud smack that resonates throughout the building. Minji’s sprawled on the floor after a failed backflip.

“She’s so cute,” you giggle, disregarding your teammate’s exasperated groans and mock punches.

The rest of the game is a breeze, but there are a few frustrating turnovers here and there that shorten the lead to nine when the final whistle blows.

You slither away from the team huddle and plop yourself down next to Minji. She’s gulping down water at a scarily excessive pace. You wait for her as she squeezes every last drop from the bottle and lets out a big wheeze afterwards.

“Tired?”

Minji nods and gratefully accepts the towel. You admire her as she wipes sweat off her neck and face.

“So,” you chirp. “How was the game?”

“You did really well,” she admits meekly.

Your chest puffs up at the praise. “So you’ll be watching from the front row for all my games from now on? I wanna see you.”

Minji’s taken aback by your forwardness, but nods shyly.

You’re still bouncing with adrenaline. “Did you see that and-one layup I made? And the no-look pass? And the—”

You stop rambling as you realize Minji’s not responding and spacing out. More specifically, spacing out and staring at your lips.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Minji literally jumps on the spot and almost screams, “What?”

“Kiss me,” you say again simply. “You want to and I want to. What’s stopping you?”

She audibly gulps and averts her gaze to hide her dilated pupils. “No, I was just distracted by something else, really…”

You roll your eyes and tug on the collar of the mascot costume to pull her in for a kiss. You feel her whole body stiffen and she makes a strangled noise, but then she melts and kisses you back for a few seconds before you pull away.

“Your lips are soft,” you smile casually, but you can feel the hammering of your heart.

“Thanks,” Minji’s voice wavers. “You too.”

“I like you,” you continue. “We should go on a date.”

“Really?” She stumbles over her words, still slightly dazed. “Are you sure?”

You hum in affirmation.

“Okay,” she squeaks.

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. You stand up and take her hand to pull her up as well. “Let’s go eat. The team is probably waiting for us outside.”

“Wait!” She yanks you back. “Let me get out of this costume first…”

“Do you need help with the zipper again?”

“…Yes please.”

Dedicated to user rosiehrs... hope this minji was 'loser' enough for you

[p0ckykiss]

lovesick - lee haechan

summary -> haechan is sick, and you are more than happy to take care of him.

warnings -> friends but they have a crush on each other😱

haechan laid in bed, sniffling. he had pulled the comforter back onto his body and curled up.

on the TV was his favorite show, he was currently rewatching it whilst he fought off his cold with rest.

lord knows where he had caught it, but it was unfortunate. days after he had decided to start his trek to college by moving out, he was sniffling and sneezing.

thankfully, he was able to postpone the college signup and tour, and get help moving into his apartment.

“i thought I told you to cover up with the sheet, not the comforter, hyuck,” you slowly opened the door, holding a plastic bag. “i only left for fifteen minutes.” you pulled the thick blanket off of him and folded it at the end of the bed.

the mask covering your face made it hard to see your expression, so haechan returned eye contact with his big, beautiful, brown doe eyes. “i’m cold.”

“i know you get cold, but we have to bring your temperature down. and you refuse to eat ice cream”

“speaking of temperature, I have to take yours again.”

he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “because you want me to eat the kind that doesn’t taste as good.” haechan really wanted you to take off your mask, because.. he just wanted you to.

you were gorgeous, and admiring your face could probably cure his sickness.

you shook your head. “i bought an alternative,” a few treats were pulled out of the bag. “ice pops. they’re cheap, and they are basically shaved ice. you can eat as many as you want, anything for the sake of you getting better.”

the thermometer that you had also pulled out of the bag was placed in haechan’s mouth.

haechan pouted while it took his temperature, because of how babied he was right now. it was to get him better faster, but he was supposed to be an adult, moving out into his old place. yet here you were, taking care of him.

“did you get any rest?” you held his face in your hands. partly to just coddle him further.

the thermometer beeped, and you took it out.

102 degrees.

still lower than the previous day.

“no.. I feel like my insides are on fire,” his voice was nasally and cute, the entirety of his nose red and irritated.

“and that’s what the ice pops are for, hyuck,” you peeled off the seal and handed it to him.

he took it from you, and stuck it in his mouth. immediately, his body felt a little more at peace, and his muscles relaxed.

earlier, he tried eating ice.

all that did was hurt his teeth. this was a happy solution to that madness. “how many did you buy?” he mumbled around the pop.

“i bought six, because I knew you would like them. they’re pretty big, so it should last you today and tomorrow. and just so you know these aren’t meals.”

“yeah, yeah,” haechan rolled his eyes and looked back at the TV.

“while you’re occupied, let’s take the sheet off of you, too,” you climbed onto the bed and laid next to him, close enough for comfort, but far enough to keep him from heating up. “you need to rest, once you’re done, got it?”

again, he rolled his eyes, but laid his head against your shoulders. his legs were tucked close to his body.

the show was getting good.

even if he was with you, he wouldn’t want to miss any of it - despite the fact that he was watching it again.

the couple in the show were getting closer, and he could actually see their chemistry. “look, look, they-” haechan pouted.

the ending music of the episode was playing, just as it seemed they would kiss. “how long have you been sleeping..” he set the empty ice pop inside the bag and grabbed another one.

best take advantage of this moment. haechan let you rest back on the pillows, curling you into his side as much as he wanted while covering you up with the sheet.

for extra measure, he slipped the mask off, down and under your chin.

“much better.” haechan grinned proudly.

-

nearly two episodes down the line, he felt his eyelids starting to get heavy, and he began to miss a few seconds of the show at a time. as a boring and ineffective part played out, his eyes began to shut. just then, you decided to wake up.

“hyuck..” you groaned, sitting up. “you didn’t even take your medicine..” it took you several moments to realize that your mask was off, but when you did, you playfully slapped his arm.

“stop, stop! I just wanted to see your face,” haechan pouted for the nth time this visit. “i’ll take my medicine if you give me a kiss.”

you pulled the medicine out of the bag and measured it out. “if you get me sick, I will be so mad at you, lee haechan, because some of us have to function in the real world, as fully functioning adults.” you held his chin and gave him a prolonged peck before handing him his medicine.

“hey!” it was hard to tell what part of his face was blushing, and what was red from his cold.

the way that you nonchalantly acknowledged the feelings you had for one another is what really sealed the deal for him. “thank you,” haechan mumbled as he took the medicine.

“i’m going now, before I catch more germs than I can afford.”

he stood up and grabbed your hand. “goodbye.” haechan’s eyes were wide, and he was feeling much bolder now that he was satisfied and not feeling like his insides were an inferno. he wrapped his arms around your torso and laid his head on your shoulder.

“goodbye, hyuck, take care of yourself while i’m gone, okay?” you rubbed his back and kissed his head. “my phone is always on if you need me.”

haechan retreated back to his bed, where he listened to you leave, before pulling out his phone to text you an unnecessarily long series of heart themed emojis.

[azrielsdove]

Rejected: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Slight Violence, Suggestive Scenes

***

He was drowning. The pain was too much. His heart had been ripped out of his chest, shattering his bones. He was done. He was going to die. He couldn’t remember anything before this pain. He didn’t know who he was or his own name. He was already gone, it didn’t matter if his body stayed alive. He was dead.

***

You were running, feet barely touching the steps below you. You had seen Nesta come to the Riverhouse and you had taken one look at her face and known. You left her with Elain and took off for Cassian. Rhys and Azriel were away, leaving you to climb the 10,000 stairs. It had been a hundred years since you had done this, but the adrenaline coursing through you made it an easy task. It was just taking too long.

Nesta had rejected the mate bond.

You weren’t sure if you were mad with her or not. You hadn’t had time to really think about why she would do this. Not when the second you realized you took off for Cassian. He was alone. He needed someone. You hoped you could get to him in time, that he would still be himself when you got there. You knew a rejected mating bond could nearly kill the mate. You didn’t think you could ever forgive Nesta if Cassian didn’t make it through this.

You finally reached the door into the House of Wind, throwing it open. You paused once inside, listening for any signs of life.

Nothing.

You took off running again, calling for Cassian. You checked his room before running up to the training ring. You knew he hadn’t left the House, that he would be in no condition to think, much less fly somewhere. You slid through the entry into the ring, heart tearing in two as you took in the scene in front of you.

Cassian. He was curled up on his knees, smaller than you had ever seen him. You threw yourself down next to him, arms wrapping around him the best you could. You didn’t know what to do for someone in this situation. You didn’t know what to say to him. All you knew was to hold him close and try to let him know he wasn’t alone. That he didn’t have to go through this by himself. You sat there and held him for hours, until the sun started to shine over the horizon.

You pulled your stiff arms from around him, calling his name softly. “Cass? Cassian?” You pushed his hair out of his face and lifted his head towards you, willing him to open his eyes. He gave a small grunt of disapproval, pulling his head back down. You sighed before slipping your arms under his and heaving him up. You got him to his feet and supported him as you began walking. You weren’t used to carrying this much weight, but you would be damned if you were going to let him sit out in the sun all day.

You guided him inside and towards him room, setting him on his bed. You carefully removed his shoes and his training leathers, pulling out light cotton pants to change him into. You got him dressed and under the covers, sitting on the bed next to him. He had never opened his eyes. He was a ghost of who he used to be. You felt tears start at the back of your eyes, panic coming that he would be stuck like this. You shook your head once and stood, heading down to the kitchen to get him some water and try to find something he would eat. It was going to be a long time before you knew if this damage would last.

***

It had been a week and nothing was different. Cassian had yet to open his eyes or even react to anything you did. He would sip water and broth when you held them up to him, and would allow you to lead him to the bathroom to clean up in the evenings. Otherwise he stayed in his bed and didn’t move. You had started reading him books you thought he’d enjoy, having given up on him talking to you. You knew he was going to need time, but that didn’t help the ache in your heart at seeing him like this.

You paused your reading to look at him. You had met Cassian almost two hundred years ago now. You were in a fight on the edges of the Night Court against some of the nastier creatures of Prythian when he found you. He arrived right before the last remaining creature delivered a killing blow. Cassian saved your life that day, finishing off the creature and rushing you to Velaris to see a healer.

You had expected to go back to your life after you were healed, but Cassian had told Rhysand he wanted you in his armies. He was impressed with how you handled yourself and thought you would be a key asset. He took on training you himself, turning you into one of the deadliest beings the Night Court had to offer.

The man who lay in front of you now was a far cry from the one who saved you that day. Yet he didn’t give up on you then, and you won’t give up on him now. You lifted the book back up and continued reading to him.

***

After a month you knew you had to at least get him to open his eyes. You had to convince him to leave his room on his own and begin to come back to life. You weren’t going to sit here and watch Cassian sink into nothingness anymore. You walked into his room bright and early, pulling the curtains apart and opening his windows. He could do with some fresh air and sunlight. You walked over to his bed and pulled his covers off of him. He let out a groan and rolled over to his other side. “Not today, Cass.” You said, keeping your tone light but commanding. You grabbed his hands and pulled him to sitting, patting the side of his face gently. “Come on, big boy. Open those eyes for me. I’m certain you can.” Your hand fell to his neck, angling his face to look at you. He made a noncommittal noise and tried to flop back onto the bed. You gripped his arms in both your hands to prevent that, tutting at him. “Cass, you have to open your eyes. It’s been a month. We need you to start to come back to us.” Your voice dropped as you continued; “I need you to come back to me.”

You sat next to him on the bed, still holding him up. You let go with one hand again and reached up to rub gently under each eye. “You can survive this, you know you can. I’ll help you every step of the way, Cass. I need you to help me though, I need you to just open those eyes for me. Please.” Your hand dropped and you brushed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. “You can do it.” You whispered to him, yours hands moving to hold his own. He gave a deep, shuddering breath and slowly pulled his eyes open.

You almost jumped back in shock when you saw them.

Instead you gripped his hands tighter, giving him the biggest smile you could. “Thats it Cass!” You said brightly, hoping that he wouldn’t realize anything was wrong. “Can you see me?” You asked, wondering if the look of his eyes had changed their function. He gave you a small nod and you smiled again. “Wonderful. Do you think you can stand for me?” You asked, rising from his bed and tugging on his hands. He stood slowly and followed you as you lead him to the kitchen. You sat him at the table and turned to start making food for him. You paused while everything was cooking to send a quick message to Rhys:

He’s awake. He’s moving. I got him to the kitchen and I got him to open his eyes. Rhys…his eyes. Should you send a healer?

You sent the image of what you had seen when Cassian first looked at you. Of the cold, dead, dark black eyes he looked at you with. There was nothing there. The whites of his eyes were almost gone, fractured black swimming around them. You had never seen anything like that, but you didn’t know all the symptoms that came with a rejected mating bond. Rhys’ voice filled your head as he responded:

You did good. Try to keep him up. Make him get up everyday. As for his eyes, I was expecting that to happen. The black comes from the shattered bond, it resembles what’s flowing through his body right now. During his healing his eyes will go back to normal, so do not worry. Please keep doing what you’re doing up there.

You sent him a quick thank you before putting some bacon, eggs, and toast on a plate. You placed the plate in front of him and turned to make yourself one. You figured it would be easier for him to eat if he wasn’t alone. You sat next to him, angling your body to face him. He just stared down at the food, making no move to eat. “Come, Cass.” You said softly, picking up his fork. “You will feel better once you have eaten.” He slowly took the fork from you and scooped up a bite of egg, chewing like it was his first time. You stood to bring him a glass of water, nearly dropping it when he spoke.

“I had expected my next meal to be made by her. Not by you.” His voice was strained, hoarse. You tried not to take offense to his words, there was no emotion behind them. You sat next to him again, handing him the glass. You didn’t know what to say to him. You two sat in silence as he ate his food, and when he was done you helped him back to bed. You washed his hair and his face before tucking him under the covers, setting some water and crackers on his nightstand for if he woke up. He was asleep almost instantly, and for the first time that month you left him to sleep alone.

When you closed the door to his room, the emotion of everything took over you. You slid to the ground against his door, burying your head in your knees as you cried.

***

Another month had passed. You had started by bringing Cassian down to breakfast every morning, and then slowly added in lunch and dinner. He still hadn’t said much, but the black in his eyes was beginning to disappear. Now that you had him eating well again his body was regaining some of its weight back. You were ready to push him into the next step, preparing for some pushback.

“Cassian,” you began slowly, “Let’s train today.”

He stopped chewing but didn’t look at you. “No.” he said gruffly, going back to eating. You nodded, having expected this. “I know you don’t think you are ready to, but it has been over two months since you’ve last trained. Your body needs to feel powerful again, you need to feel powerful again.” He shook his head. “I won’t.”

You sighed and stood up, facing him. “I can’t make you do anything. I’ll be out there when you are ready.” You left him there to eat his breakfast. You didn’t expect him to come right away. You knew it was going to be more of a fight before you got him out here.

So you picked up your sword and began training alone.

***

The next few days were much the same. You’d ask Cassian to come train, he’d decline. You let him off easy the first few days, but you slowly started to push harder. Today you had decided that you wouldn’t give up until he at least went to the training ring with you. He needed to just stand back out there and remember who he was.

“Your training leathers are freshly cleaned for you. Put them on and join me.” You said, finishing your breakfast. As usual, he said no. “I’m not taking no as an answer today, Cassian.” You kept your voice calm, but made sure to have an air of command in it. He glanced at you and repeated, “No.” You shrugged and stood up. “I told you. I’m not taking no as answer. You’re coming up with me.” You stared at him until he finally looked at you. His eyes were still mostly black, but the improvement was there.

“No.” He said again, not dropping his gaze. You shook your head, holding onto the chair in front of you. “At least walk up there with me. You need to get out of this house. You need to feel the breeze again. You need to remember who you are.” You were almost begging. Your eyes locked on each other for some time, your heart beating rapidly.

“No.” He said again and turned back to his food. You let out a sigh of exasperation and threw your hands up in the air. “I can’t help you if you won’t even try.” You shot out, your words a bit harsh. “I’ve been doing everything for you, Cassian, and the least you could do is walk outside.” He stiffened at your words before standing slowly.

“I said. No.” He spoke again, glaring down at you. You kept your spine straight and leaned forward to whisper with deadly seriousness, “I said. Come.” A heartbeat passed and his fists clenched.

“You’re not in charge of me.” He spat.

“I’m not trying to be ‘in charge’ of you. I’m trying to help you.” You were trying very hard to stay calm.

“I don’t want your help.” Cassian sneered, looking you up and down.

“Tough shit, Cass. I’m not going to give up on you.” You responded, eyes fierce.

He scoffed. “Why does it matter to you? I didn’t ask for you to get me that day. You should have left me there.”

Your vision grew blurry at realizing what he meant. “I would’ve never left you. I love you. I care about you. Everyone does. You’re our family Cassian.”

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes. “I dont care how you feel. All I cared about was her. And she left me. I don’t want to be around anyone, especially not you.”

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure what to say. You knew he was hurting and that it was common for hurt people to hurt people, thought that didn’t take the sting of his words away. You looked at him for a moment before turning and leaving, heading up to the training ring. At least you knew you wouldn’t see him up there.

***

You trained until it was dark, skipping lunch and dinner. You trained until your knuckles were bloody from punching the bags over and over. You trained until you thought your arms were going to fall off. You trained so you didn’t have to think about Cassian. You had no idea what to do with him. You don’t know why Rhys was letting you do this alone. Why no one would come help you. Azriel lives here too, why hasn’t he been around? You were certain he could be more help than you were.

You finally went down to bed, cleaning up and deciding to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Cassian was going through one of the darkest periods of his life, and you were here to help him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, so why act surprised when it’s hard? Tomorrow you would try a new plan. You fell asleep with a small smile, having realized that an emotion had finally showed up in Cass. Until this morning he had been a void, a shell. Today, he had gotten angry. It was a small victory.

***

The next day, Cassian was already eating when you arrived. He looked up at you and you didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced to your bandaged hands. You grabbed some food, needing all your strength for what you were about to do. Neither of you said anything while you ate, as the meals typically went. When you were done you stood and washed your plate before turning to face Cassian.

“Get up. Wash your dish, and let’s go.” You said, crossing your arms. He looked sharply up at you, saying nothing. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m telling you. Get off your lazy ass and do something with your sorry existence.” His ears reddened and he stood up quickly.

“What did you say to me?” He asked, his voice dangerously cold. You weren’t going to let him scare you, not today.

“I said, let’s go. I get it. Your heart has been broken. Boo fucking whoo Cass, that doesn’t mean you throw your life away.” You stood strong in front of him, not letting the hate in his eyes affect you. The eyes that were slightly less black than the day before.

“You have no idea what it is like. You do not get to stand there and demand I do what you say. There is no life for me, not now.” He said, taking a step closer to you. That intimidation would not work on you, not today.

“Yea, I don’t know what it’s like. But do you really believe your life is over? If that’s what you think, what are you doing here? Why did you even get out of bed?” You raised your hands in front of you, gesturing to the kitchen. Cassian took a step closer, towering over you.

“You. Don’t. Understand.” He grunted out, leaning down to your height. You rolled your eyes.

That was your mistake.

In a split second Cassian had grabbed you by the arm and was dragging you through the house. He brought you to one of the closest balconies and shoved you against it so half your body was hanging over the edge, your arm tucked behind your back. He was pressed up behind you, mouth by your ear. “Look down.” He whispered, using his other hand to tilt your head down, down to see the ground way below. “That’s quite a drop. I could toss you over this without a second thought. No one would hear your scream, no one would come and rescue you. Push me again, and I won’t hesitate to do it.” He spat out, pushing your body so hard into the balcony you couldn’t help the cry of pain you gave.

Then he was gone.

Your whole body was shaking as you stepped away from the edge of the mountain, not stopping until your back hit a wall behind you. You couldn’t do this. Cassian couldn’t be saved. Cassian was dead. Whoever that was, you didn’t know him. You felt the tears come hot and fast, wrapping your arms around yourself. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t do this.

***

You called for Rhys. You called for Feyre. You even tried to find the shadow Azriel usually leaves, hoping to contact him. No one responded. You didn’t know why, you didn’t know why they had abandoned you up here with a male who clearly had no issues killing you. Was this some part of their messed up plan? See how far Cassian would go before he snapped? Would they be able to save you in time?

You cried hard that night. You cried for yourself, for the fear of your safety. You cried for who Cassian used to be, and you cried for the being he was now. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, and then you cried so hard you threw up. You didn’t sleep at all, the morning coming too fast. You debated hiding in your room to avoid him, before realizing that’s exactly what he wanted. You knew deep down that Cassian wouldn’t hurt you. You could only hope that was true for the monster he currently was. You took a deep breath and got ready, trying to hide the shadows under your eyes and the tear tracks on your skin.

You weren’t going to give up on him. Not when it seemed like everyone else had.

***

You didn’t talk to Cassian at breakfast. You ate quietly and when you were done you simply announced you were going to train and left. You didn’t even look at him.

You trained for the morning, coming back at lunch. Again, you didn’t speak or look at him. When you were finished you announced you were going to read, and he could find you if he needed anything.

Dinner went much the same, except you could feel his eyes on you now. You refused to look at him, not caring about which expression he wore. When you finished you bid him goodnight and went to bed. This started your next plan for him.

***

The following weeks you acted in the same way. Not looking or speaking to him until your meal was over, and only then speaking to let him know where you would be. If showing you cared didn’t work, and trying to demand didn’t work, then you would act indifferent. He could figure it out on his own.

You were beginning to doubt your plan, sitting in the middle of the training ring. You were drawing circles in the sand, having no desire to train today. You were tired of training alone. You were tired of being alone. You were just tired. Your eyes started to droop and you wondered if you should just take a nap right there. It didn’t matter anyway. Nothing was working to get Cassian up here. You laid down in the sand and let your eyes close. You felt the warm sun on your skin, breathing deep. You almost felt at peace for the first time since finding Cass in this very spot. You wished you hadn’t been the first one to get to him. You wished Azriel or Rhys had beat you up here, had taken the role of bringing him back to life.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t notice Cassian enter the ring. You didn’t see the way his eyes looked over you. You didn’t see the small smile on his face as he took you in, your relaxed expression, your hair falling out of its braid behind you, the way your fingers trailed through the sand. You didn’t notice him come lay beside you, closing his eyes as well. You had no idea he was there as a calmness settled over the two of you, sleep welcoming you with wide arms.

***

Your throat was burning when you woke up. You groaned and stretched your muscles. Sleeping under the sun in the sand was probably not your best idea. You had no idea how long you were out. You opened your eyes and slowly sat up. You knew you should go back inside, down to lunch to see if Cassian-

Cassian. Cassian who was laying in the sand next to you. Cassian who was asleep in the sand next to you. Cassian who must have come up, seen you, and decided to stay. Cassian, who looked so beautiful with his hair splayed behind him, the sun shining off his face. He reminded you of the old him, the loving, funny, kind Cassian.

You don’t know how long you sat there and looked at him. A selfish part of you never wanted this moment to end. You weren’t ready to go back to the cruel, sad Cass of the past few months. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached over and brushed some hair out of his face, feeling his soft skin under your fingertips.

His eyes shot open and before you could react he had you pinned under him, a blade against your throat. You couldn’t breathe or move, your eyes wide and panicked as you looked up at him. He pressed the blade in harder, looking ready to kill you. You wiggled an arm free and put your hand over his on the blade, slowly lifting it up. You watched as his expression calmed and then horror took over his face. He jumped away from you, hands up. “No, no I didn’t mean- I didn’t know- I didn’t.” He stuttered, his hands having a slight shake to them. You slowly crawled over to where he was sitting and pulled his hands down into your own.

“It’s okay, Cassian.” You said, squeezing his hands. He looked down at your locked hands, unmoving. “I’m okay. You’re okay.” You whispered soothingly, trying to coax him out of his own head. “I’m here. I’m here and you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” You continued, holding his hands tight. You felt the first tear hit your hand before you heard his gasping breaths.

Cassian was crying.

You pulled him into your chest and wrapped your arms around him as best you could. You let him cry for what felt like hours. He needed to get all that emotion out, all that pain from today and the past months. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair, whispering that he was okay and that you loved him. That he was your best friend and you’d do anything for him. That you wouldn’t hold the way he’s been acting against him, no one you knew had been in his spot before. You held him until his breathing began to even out, until his eyes ran dry. You held him until he moved first, pulling away to look at you. You felt your own tears coming as you took him in, as you looked at his eyes. His eyes that were almost entirely back to normal, with just a few bits of black on the edges. You broke into a smile and pulled him back into you, holding him tight. “It’s good to have you back, Cass.” You whispered as his arms wrapped around you too.

***

“Wake up, sunshine!” A voice bellowed through your room, your curtains being thrown open. You blinked in surprise as your eyes focused in on Cassian, who was dressed for training. “We’ve got lots of work to do.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at you still in bed. “Up! Up!” He clapped, coming over and pulling your blankets off of you. You squealed and tried to grab them before he had fully exposed you and the very thin nightgown you were wearing. Unfortunately he was quicker than you. You watched as his eyes dragged over your body, a strange expression on his face. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach at his gaze.

The moment was broken when he gave a laugh and told you to put something “training appropriate” on before leaving your room.

***

For two months you and Cassian trained harder than you ever had before. He pushed you to your limits and then some, not happy until you almost collapsed at the end of each session. You were glad to do it as you watched the last bits of black fade from his eyes.

It had been half a year since Nesta had rejected the bond. You and Cassian hadn’t seen anyone else since then. You knew you had to talk to him about seeing the others soon, and the likeliness of him seeing Nesta too.

You didn’t want to ruin your happy little bubble quite yet, though.

You smiled as Cassian talked over dinner, explaining the new techniques he was ready to teach you. You loved how excited he got, the way his eyes would light up. Your gaze fell to his mouth as he talked, staring at his lips, wondering how they’d feel against your skin-

No. You had been pushing your feelings for Cassian down for 200 years now, trying to pretend they didn’t exist. When he first saw Nesta you didn’t miss the slight change in him and you knew he would never be yours. Your selfish mind pointed out how Nesta had rejected him, how he was open for the taking, how he could be yours. But no. Cass had a long way to go on his healing journey, and the last thing he needed was you lusting after him.

***

It had been a year. A year since Nesta rejected that bond. Over the past six months you and Cassian had gotten closer and closer. Rhysand had started visiting, Azriel too. Feyre had stayed away at first, wanting to be sure Cassian would be okay seeing her. Seeing the sister of his would-be mate. You were surprised at the way he brushed her concerns off, wrapping her in the biggest hug when she finally came. He told her that she wasn’t her sister, and he would never hold anything Nesta did against her. You felt your heart swell with pride, so different from the Cassian of a few months before.

You had convinced him to leave the House of Wind on a few occasions, flying down to walk the streets of Velaris. You purchased two small chocolate cakes in secret the last time you went, proudly showing them to him when you got back home.

Home. Home was with Cassian now. You loved the life you had created for him, you loved seeing him so full of joy and hope. You would sometimes remember those first dreadful months, the way he looked and the way he acted. That perfect bubble you had created around the two of you was going to end soon. Rhysand had brought up the idea of having a party at the House, a party to welcome Cassian back.

A party that would include Nesta.

You had shot that idea down the second it came out of Rhys’ mouth, eyes burning red. “What are you thinking? Inviting her?” Cassian had laid a soothing hand on your arm, making you look at him. He wore a calm and peaceful expression on his face, and his words shocked you.

“Let her come. I can’t avoid her forever.” He rose a hand to cup your face. “Take it as the last step of my recovery. I’ll have my little savior by my side the whole time.” Heat rose through you at his touch and his words. His little savior, he had taken to calling you. Cassian knew it made you blush, and a part of him enjoyed the pink coloring your cheeks a little too much. You simply nodded, wanting to sink into his hand, into his skin. Sadly he had already pulled away and looked back at Rhys. You gave a small shake of your head, clearing your thoughts and looked to Rhys as well.

You did not enjoy the knowing smirk on his face.

“A party then! We will have it a week from today.” He gave Cassian a broad smile and clapped him on the back. “It’ll be good to have you back, brother.”

***

You felt as though your heart was going to explode. Anxiety coursed through your body, leaving your hands shaking as you tried to button up your dress. You gave a shout of frustration, slamming your hands down on the vanity in front of you. You looked up at your reflection and wished you could put on a brave face.

You were scared. You were scared of Cassian seeing Nesta. You were scared all your hard work this past year was going to be for nothing. You were scared for how she would react. You were scared to see her.

You ducked your head and stared at your perfectly manicured fingers digging into the table below them. You wanted to rip off each nail and throw them out the window. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t care how calm Cassian was about this whole situation. This was wrong. You dug your nails harder into the vanity, trying to force the negative thoughts away. You were about to give up and tell Cassian you couldn’t go, maybe you could be sick, when you heard a knock on your door. You straightened up and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. No, you couldn’t abandon him. Not tonight. He needed you to be strong by his side.

You walked over and opened the door to reveal Cassian. You pushed the door open wider to allow him to come in, closing it behind him. You looked him over, heat coursing through your body as you took him in. He looked delicious. He had on dark dress pants and a button down, a suit jacket thrown over his arm. You had never seen him in anything like this before and it left you embarrassingly speechless. You quickly moved your eyes to his face, trying to hide the way you had been looking at him. The embarrassment disappeared once you saw the way he was looking over you, the way his eyes lingered on your half buttoned dress, his pupils blown.

You could eat him.

Feeling a little daring, you turned your back to him and pushed your hair over your shoulder. “Do you think you could help me? I can’t seem to get it the rest of the way.” You asked, partly to actually get his help, and partly to feel his touch on your skin. Cassian nodded and stepped closer to start buttoning your dress. Goosebumps spread over your skin at his touch, your body betraying your thoughts. You looked up to the mirror in front of you, heart beating at the sight of him behind you. All too quickly the buttons were all done up, and you watched in the mirror as he hands rested at the base of your neck for a moment. You watched as his head lowered and his lips connected to your bare shoulder. It took everything in you to not throw your head back onto him and close your eyes.

Cassian cleared his throat and stepped away, gazing at the two of you in the mirror. “You look…beautiful.” He said, his words thick. You couldn’t help but agree with him as you looked at the navy blue velvet draped over your body. The high neckline wrapped around your throat like a collar, leaving your shoulders and arms bare as it connected to the tight material over your chest and stomach. At your waist it flowed almost dreamlike to the ground, one long slit going up to your hip to show your leg. You watched Cassians eyes in the mirror trail over you, the room feeling a million degrees.

You turned suddenly, pulling the jacket out of Cassians hands. “Come on,” you said, helping him into it, “Let’s get to your party.”

***

You had already found a glass of wine. No, you had found several glasses of wine. You tipped them back one after the other until that pleasant fuzzy feeling filled your body. You grabbed one more and went to find Cassian with Rhys and Azriel, wanting to make sure he was doing okay. He smiled as you joined their little group, an arm coming to wrap around your waist. You decided to act like this was completely normal, leaning into his touch and sipping your wine. You didn’t miss the look that shot between Rhys and Azriel, glaring at them in response. “Whatever keeps him comfortable.” You shot to Rhysands mind, a small nod of confirmation coming from him before he turned to Cassian.

“Are you ready?” He asked, arms out as if to say “We will go when you do.” Cassian plucked the wine glass out of your hands and downed the rest of it, laughing at your cry of disapproval.

“I’m ready.” He said, smiling down at your and tightening his grip on your waist. “Stay with me?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You smiled back at him and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.”

***

There she was. Nesta Archeron. As deadly beautiful as always, she was standing in front of you and her rejected mate. You felt Cassians fingers dig into your hip, but he placed a small smile on his face and tipped his head to her. “Nesta. You look well.” He spoke politely, as if they had only ever been casual acquaintances. She looked over the two of you, not missing his arm around your waist.

“As do you.” She responded, just as politely. “You seem…happy.” She gestured to the two of you and you felt your body stiffen, preparing for the undoubtably nasty comment she was going to follow up with. “I am glad.”

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face at not only her words, but also the kind tone she said them in. It seemed Cassian wasn’t the only one who had changed this past year. He smiled at her and looked down at you.

“Yea, I suppose I am.” He said, and there was no hiding the red that colored your cheeks. What was going on? was all you could think, this situation playing out completely different than you thought it would. You felt a hand on your arm and turned to look at Nesta.

“You have always been what he needed.” She said quietly, a shine in her eyes. You nodded at her, still confused on what was happening. She looked up to Cass once more, saying; “Have a good night, Cassian. Enjoy your party.”

And then she was gone.

You looked at Cassian with wide eyes, gauging how he was feeling. You were surprised at his relaxed smile as his hand moved from your waist to grab you hand. “Come with me.” He whispered, pulling you behind him. You felt like you were running after him until he stopped and pulled you out onto a balcony. Onto the balcony. The one he had threatened you on when he was in the deepest part of his anger.

You turned to face him, hands on your hips. “What are you doing?” You asked, frustrated at the way everyone was acting. “Something I should’ve done two hundred years ago.” He replied, coming close to you.

Before you had a chance to respond, his lips were on yours.

Your heart stopped as one arm wrapped back around your waist, the other threading through your hair. You melted into his touch, kissing him back the way you had dreamed of doing for so long. His hand in your hair tilted your head back, allowing him more access to you. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as his tongue slid into your mouth, and you felt on fire when you heard his responding growl of satisfaction.

This was better than anything you had ever dreamed.

He gently moved you until you felt the railing of the balcony against your back. In a second Cassian had flipped you forward, facing out over Velaris just as you had all those months ago. However this time, you felt safe.

Cassian started trailing kisses on your shoulder, undoing the top buttons on your dress so he could kiss up your neck. His hand splashed across your stomach, keeping you tight to him. You let out a pleasured breath at his actions, dipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.” He growled into your ear, his other hand coming to cup your breast. A shiver ran through your body at his touch, at his words. “Nesta knew it.” He placed another kiss on your neck. “The day she rejected the mating bond, she told me she wouldn’t allow me to chain myself to her, not when my heart belonged to another.” He sucked the skin under your ear lightly, a gasp coming from you. “I was confused at first. I didn’t know what she was talking about.” Another kiss. “And then it was you who came to me that day. And I was so angry.” A sharp bite, your hands grabbing onto the railing in front of you as pleasure shot through your spine. “I was angry that she had seen what I hadn’t. I was angry that you came to save me. I was angry that my heart had betrayed me, had betrayed my mate.” Another bite, the hand on your stomach sliding to find that slit in your dress. “When I dragged you out here that day and pressed you to this balcony just like I am now, I was so full of rage. You were perfect. I gave you chance after chance to give up on me, and you wouldn’t.” Another bruising kiss on your neck, his hand on your hip sliding under the fabric of your dress. “I heard your cries that night, the pleading to Rhys. I begged him to not send anyone. That I would never hurt you, I would never act like that again. I realized the mistake I was making.” His hand found the edge of your underwear, tracing it lightly. You felt his smile against your skin at the small moan of need you gave him, pressing another kiss to your skin. “These past months training with you, i’ve wanted to pin you down beneath me and have my way with you every day.” You arched back into him at his words, begging his hand to slide to where you needed it. “Today, I decided I was done hiding my feelings. I was going to be honest with you.”

His hand came up to angle your head to face him. “I’m in love with you, my little savior. I always have been, from the day I found you fighting for your life on the edges of Court. It’s always been you.” Cassian stared at you, willing you to say something back. You rose on your toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since the day you saved me on the edges of Court.” You whispered against his skin. He gave a small laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. “It seems we have wasted quite some time, then.” He said, before lust took over his eyes.

He leaned you back against the balcony, the hand under your skirt finally sliding to where you needed him. You cried out at his touch, his lips hot against your neck. “Now, i’m going to fuck you on this balcony so all of Velaris knows who you belong to.”

***

Thank you for your patience on this story!!! Please let me know how you feel about it, I kept rewriting it. I appreciate all the feedback so much <3

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝔸 ℝ𝕚𝕤𝕜 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Rich man Yunho x Thief Reader, Warnings: Handcuffs, implied mafia?, implied yandere behaviour, unprotected sex(smh), slight praise, name calling (dear) Wordcount: 3353 Not proofread

Yunho drives me mad, he's just so...ugh, there aren't words that are worthy enough to describe him. Also I wrote this at like 2 am.

Summary: A thrill-seeking burglary, driven by a craving for adrenaline, you break into the grand Jeong Estate to steal a priceless necklace. Equipped with skills from past heists you're dressed for stealth, the owner unexpectedly decides to make an appearance and punish you in his own way.

Out of all the things that you would do, this one was probably the craziest, no this is the craziest idea ever. Sure, you've done stupid things before but this one was going to take the cake, even if you were fully prepared.

Your mother had always told you, this hobby of yours would get you in trouble. For her you were a "normal" kind of adrenaline junkie, bungee jumping, paragliding, rock climbing, something that was in a controlled environment but would still get your heart racing. Your blood pumping. When that didn't satisfy you anymore though, you turned over a different leaf, starting with cliff diving and some urban exploring, graffiti, crimes that's what this hobby of yours turned into. Especially little crimes that involved stealing something, from a store, a jacket, a purse your hands were quite skilled at the task and the feeling you got from it was just too addictive to stop.

And after a stupid night with an even more stupid idea from your friends you were here now, a block down from the biggest estate in the city. The Jeong Estate.

The idea was stuck in your brain like gum on your shoe and you wouldn't leave until that itch inside of you was cleansed. The worst thing was, this was completely solo, from the planning, to going through with this.

It was simple really, sneak around the cameras, hopefully find some open entrance, if not you'd get entry in some way. You learned a few things about security systems from rich homes like these, they all worked the same, so you'd be able to deactivate it, you just didn't know for how long, that's why that was as a last resort.

You honestly looked like a burglar, the dark leather jacket, black jeans with an old black t-shirt and a black cap. In case you were somehow caught, they wouldn't recognize you.

You just had to get in, find something worth taking and then get out. And that undetected.

Interesting enough the whole layout of the mansion was on the internet, you guessed they like to brag about their wealth and how many bathrooms one could possibly need.

There were multiple interviews taken in the house, pictures of the outside, inside, around it, with a little bit of smart thinking you'd be able to sneak past any cameras where they wouldn't be able to detect you.

Because of their huge security set up, they didn't think to have any guards, the place completely empty, anyone that was going to try anything had a death wish. And you wouldn't pass up on the thrill of escaping that mansion with a little souvenir that you'd pull out and brag to your friends about.

You could already imagine the dumb, shocked faces they'd pull when you got back. You stepped out of your car, combat boots hitting the ground, you only got a small bag, as to not make your form any bigger. You decided the back was safer to gain entry, less cameras more blind sports as well, with the huge maze-like garden blocking your silhouette from everything, combined with the darkness of the night, this was going to be a walk in the park. your heart was racing though, not even inside yet. You checked various doors and windows hoping someone left at least one open with a house this big, poor luck.

You guess that meant plan B was officially going to commence. You whipped out your phone connecting with the security system in a matter of minutes with the closeness, there seemed to be a manual lever hidden just close to you, that was the only thing you couldn't find amongst the endless photos taken of this place. You opened a small metal box being faced with a control panel, thankfully each button had some words on them, not making you guess what each does. You clicked one and then another to confirm it, the cameras immediately losing their red recording light, and the alarm presumably being off now.

You grabbed a rock off the expensive looking assortment next to a little pond and smashed it against a glass door. Sliding your hand in and turning the knob, it slid open, and you were officially in. No going back. You gulped the nerves hitting a little harder, but your excitement burnt even more. Turning the lamp on your flashlight, you snuck around a little, figuring out which hallway you were in, looking at a few vases, might take one of those.

But you were actually on the lookout for a particular door, leading to a secret treasure room. The Jeong family apparently liked collecting stuff a lot, paintings, statues, jewelry. You were going to go for a specific necklace, only one in the world and it was here, so close to you. You moved further down, passing high chandeliers and a set of stairs. The doors couldn't be missed, big embroidery and golden accents making it stand out even more than everything that you've seen here yet, however that was possible. You pushed it open, startled of it not being closed. There wasn't anyone inside, thank God.

You looked around the room, in awe. It was filled to the brim, to each treasure a sign explaining it was from or what it symbolized. As you watched each one with interest your eyes landed on the glass in the middle of the room, encased in it was the necklace you were here for. What you would be taking home. You walked up to it, your boots squeaking a little on the oak wooden floor.

You pressed your gloved fingers onto the glass, admiring the piece inside. You would obviously have to break it and then sneak out again. You brought some equipment just for this, obviously they didn't have normal glass around these national treasures. You got a laser cutter for a pretty dime, and you'd leave with something worth every coin spent on this device. You put your bag down, going through it, setting up the little machine, turning on the flame and testing it a few times. You were just about to cut it when you heard some noise.

Which wasn't you for sure. You immediately panicked a little and turned the thingy off reaching for your bag and pulling it behind the counter of the necklace, hiding behind it. There wasn't any reason that someone would just come in here. Or was there?

You were mentally going through every scenario that was about to happen. Your palms sweating, heart bursting out of your chest. You had to calm down a little or you'd make stupid decisions right this second. The racing of your little heart was promptly stopped by the door creaking open, the clanking of shoes evident in the spacious room. Definitely dress shoes, definitely someone that lived here. It was okay. They didn't know you were here. They were probably just having some weird midnight museum tour here. This was probably just some rich person behavior, going to your own treasure haven at the dead of night, yeah, must be it.

The steps grew closer and thus louder. You prayed they wouldn't walk around the counter and see you, briefly you regretted ever coming here but you did get what you wanted, a thrill.

You held your breath when the sounds of those shoes stopped. Listening intently for what was about to happen and staying alert. Just when you were trying to get ahold of your breathing again, there was some fast movement, a click, a shove, and you were on the ground. Looking up, you saw your one hand cuffed to a bar embedded into the counter. And some very shiny looking shoes, that were now directly in front of you. You moved your gaze slowly up, black slacks, further there was a simple shirt and a black tie. Who the hell wears those in their own home? And finally, a rather young-looking dude, you'd have expected a man in his fifties by the clothing choice. The black-haired man didn't looked like he was in his mid-twenties, slightly older than you.

Your bows furrowed at that. His deep voice was the next thing that shocked you as he leaned down, setting himself on his haunches.

"Now what do we have here? A little mouse lingering in my house." There was no way that this was the Jeong Yunho, he was just way too… young, for a successful multi-millionaire. You didn't realize that you haven't responded.

"I was wondering what crawled in when I heard some noises, you ought to be more careful than that." He smiled mockingly.

You were trying to keep your gaze away from him, not wanting him to catch even a single glance of your features, he might just let you go. Who are you even kidding? Fat chance, you were lucky if you made it out of here alive now, genuine fear setting in.

He kept trying to move his face to yours, obviously wanting to look at the intruder that snuck in, but you just turned in the other direction. Having enough of your attitude he gripped your jaw in his hand, your free one trying to pry him off of you. He turned you to him and knocked the hat off your head.

You stared into his eyes, not wanting to get intimidated no matter how much money this guy had. You wouldn’t be intimidated by a pretty, rich boy that was born with a silver spoon.

"Happy now?" You questioned. His hand left your face.

"Oh, so she does talk, and she's got some fire." That grin just wouldn't leave his face, it was so goddamn punchable even if it was a shame to ruin.

Maybe violence was next on your hobby list of crimes. If looks could kill, he would be buried six feet under, your glare was burning a hole through his face.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of you visiting my home?" Any words that came out of his mouth made you want to shut him up. If it was with a fist or a kiss you honestly didn't care.

"Why don't you take a guess?" You wouldn't answer anything with a guy like this squeezing you into a little corner. Which was risky to say the least.

"Well… judging by the get up and the fact that I found you here, means you were planning on stealing something." No shit sherlock, for what other reason do people break in.

You gave him a deadpan look.

"Oh, come on, this is the most interesting thing that has happened here in a while, usually, people get caught by the alarm or cameras before even making it inside."

"Makes me wonder how you made it this far." He looked you over, studying you, analyzing.

This was probably the best time to convince him of letting you go, somehow. "Look, I'm sorry okay, this was stupid, I'll pay for the broken glass and just leave."

"See now, that just won't work. I can't just "let you go", that'll just make me look bad if it comes out that I just let little thieves like you come and go."

"I have to set an example." What the fuck does he mean by that?

You hadn't even thought about what kind of people lived here, for all you could know this was some secret mafia family that built their empire on corpses. Sure, sounded like it.

"I promise I won't talk; I won't do this again."

"You really expect me to believe that?" He raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Trust me, I'll make sure you won't." Now that sounded like something a killer would say, you were fucked, so fucked.

"Please, look, I have family, friends, please just let me go." You looked at him a little pleading, fuck your pride and not getting intimidated. This was beyond anything.

You shook the cuff slightly, trying to slip your hand through it in any way. "Look I'll pay or whatever, j-just don't kill me." He seemed in thought about something, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then he stood up, your eyes following his long, slim figure.

"No." He curtly replied.

Okay fuck him and fuck reasoning with this asshole.

"I'm gonna cave your face in when I get out of these handcuffs, I swear." You glared. His smile grew again, this fucker was getting some sick satisfaction of seeing you seething in anger.

"Ouuu there's that fire that I was beginning to miss, you were begging so nicely a second ago." He twirled a stand of your hair. He grabbed at the cuffs unlicking it from the bar, getting your hopes up of being free when he clasped the now free shackle to your other hand. Your hands now cuffed in front of your body, he pulled at the chain holding them together.

He stood up, dragging you with him. "Girls like you only learn the hard way, don't they? Lucky for you, I know just how to handle your type." Anything he said sounded so suggestive, you don't know if the fear was activating some hidden side in you, or if his attractiveness eliminated any red flags in the situation. He tugged you along, crossing room for room way too fast for you to keep track of where you were and therefore not making you figure out where he was taking you, until he hauled you into a dimly lit room. A bedroom, okay woah, this was turning into one of your fantasies real fast.

"I'm feeling generous today, it's not every day where a pretty thing just turns up at my doorstep, so I'll even remove these." The restraints from your wrist fell to the floor, your hands massaging your wrists. "I'll let you off the hook" But? There had to be some twist. "You'll spend the night here, after all you wanted to be here." Yeah, to steal something, not to fuck a loaded dude.

You did consider it, he wasn't bad looking. But that fucking attitude was just so aggravating. "And what makes you think that I would just agree to that?" Your arms crossed in silent protest.

"Maybe the fact that you wouldn't land yourself in jail."

"You kind of interrupted my work so It's only fair that I get a little bit of a compensation for being so nice."

Oh, hell to the no, not this guy, nu uh. He looks like someone that would brag about this for centuries to come. You whipped around ready to leave; "I'll just turn myself in."

"Come on, didn't you notice the tension between us, are you that oblivious?"

Of course, you had noticed, from the first second you realized his hands were way bigger and that he was towering over you, had you thinking dirty. Like if he had just bent you over the glass in the other room. Or the hallway wall, or this bed. God there must be something wrong with you. Some adrenaline induced arousal that activated since you were caught.

You didn't notice yourself stopping nor did you notice Yunho moving up behind you until his warm breath hit your ear.

"Right, you did notice. I'll even gift you a little something to take with you, or you can leave with nothing right now."

He brushed the hair from your neck, kissing it slightly. You could just leave now, but his offer was too tempting. You whipped around, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him in for a kiss, before you could second guess your decision making.

He pushed you against a nearby wall, caging you in. He was so fucking big it felt suffocating in an intoxicating way. Like all your senses were filled with Yunho only.

The movements were rushed buttons falling off, his tie almost getting ripped apart. Your shirt and jacket being discarded in a matter of seconds. You called his name in between kisses, desperate to get him to move faster.

Only one of your legs was out of your jeans when he stuffed you with his fingers, you were hoping that your legs kept their strength, and your knees wouldn't buckle. It was getting increasingly difficult, the more fingers he added, the harder he thrusted, the deeper that he hit. You tried your best to hold onto his shoulders. You took notice of the large bulge pressing against his slacks and slipped your hand in. You stroked him making him bite his lip a bit, his brows furrowing in pleasure. Groans were the only things you could hear besides the wet squelch of your pussy. When your knees were going to give out, he pulled his hand from you, reaching over, grabbing a familiar object, clicking it onto you again but lifting your arms making you wrap your cuffed hands around his neck, your hands holding onto him. He lifted one of your legs getting closer to your body while his other hand moved down and pulled his length out of his pants.

A pretty thing from top to bottom, with just the perfect curve. Fittingly big for his stature. Your favorite part was when he started rubbing it against you, getting it wet, a vein that ran along his cock brushed your clit at the perfect angle. It made you cry out just a little louder for him.

"I might just keep you in my treasure room dear, you just make such cute noises."

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, not that you cared at this moment. When he slipped himself inside that's when you almost came on the spot, your insides were clenching so much around his length. Wrapping around him, it was so so warm. And when he started moving it was even better, the drag of your ridged walls pulling him back in when he pulled out.

"Yunho, Yunho, god ah."

His thrusts reached deeper than your fingers every could, than any man before him could. Yunho kept thrusting while alternating between playing with your boobs and circling your clit with his thumb.

"You're gonna kill me, you know that? o-my fucking god." He groaned after each thrust. Your stomach became so warm and tingly, it was only a matter of seconds before you'd cum all over his cock. It was after a particular calculated thrust up into your g-spot that had you seeing stars, tightening your arms around Yunhos neck and letting out a pornographic moan. The squeezing of your pussy had him coming just a moment after, not giving him the chance to pull out, not that he wanted to.

He spilt himself into you, driving aftershocks from your orgasm out of you. His thrust slowing down, to ride out his own, until his hips stopped.

He pulled back, your hole opening and closing a little and making cum dribble out of you.

"Can't have you waste that." He pushed some of it back in with his fingers. You moaned in hypersensitivity. Your legs completely gave out after that and he picked you up, carrying you over to the bed that would have been the more ideal place.

He untangled himself from you, you grumbled at the loss of contact. You just heard the click of the cuffs, your eyes closed in contentment, too tired.

He continued staying at your side, bringing you a glass of water, and pulling the blanket over you, making you fall asleep faster than you'd ever think was possible. Considering you were still in a stranger’s house, said stranger was inside your guts just a moment ago, so couldn't really call him that.

This definitely wasn't part of your masterplan, but you wouldn't change a thing.

When you woke up in the morning, Yunho peacefully sleeping next to you, you quietly dressed yourself and excited the mansion. Not forgetting to take a price, in the form of his ring and a note that read: "If you want your souvenir back, call me."

[fairyofshampgyu]

Now live ! Stream: 5

Genre: smut, camboy au, college au, crack

Pairing: camboy! Beomgyu x gn reader (afab when smut)

Warnings: camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, use of fleshlight, riding, nipple play, wow they finally fuck , cuddling, reader literally being a full on simp

Synopsis: Every Thursday night at 8pm, you tune into your favourite camboy: Angel313. What you don’t know is he even goes to the same uni as you, is in the same class as you and is Choi Beomgyu, the campus fuckboy but will you keep his secret?

Word count: 2.7k

You travelled hurriedly to beomgyu’s dorm in the snowfall that seemed to progressively get worse, trying to make your way there faster so you wouldn’t have to be in it for that long.

You hated the feeling of snow all on you, clothes and body soggy and cold, it wasn’t very pleasant. Yes, snow was very pretty to look at from inside, watching as it carelessly and elegantly scattered the ground and watching the landscape being blanketed by it, making even the ugliest places look pretty, but being in snow when it fell down harshly and rapidly in excessive cold wind speeds was not pretty.

Finally, you make it into his building, climbing up all the stairs to the very top since the elevator still hadn’t been fixed yet, panting as you knocked on his door.

“Woah. What happened to you?”

“The snow. And your damned dorm being at the highest level for no reason.”

“Ah yeah we were supposed to be working on the music performance today weren’t we? Thought it would have been rain checked due to the weather. Or…should I say snow checked?” Beomgyu laughs at his own joke as you continue to stare at him unamused.

...

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He opens his door wide for you and you walk in, taking off your coat.

“Wow you have so much snow in your hair.” Beomgyu states, coming to softly stroke and pat your head of the little icy droplets, it takes you a back but you try your hardest to seem unaffected.

“You must be freezing! I’ll make us both hot chocolate.”

“Thanks beomgyu.”

And so, you work on your meeting together about the christmas performance. Whilst you’d gotten the music done and have had many practices now, there’s still lots to take into account and consideration such as lighting and decorations, how long everything had to be, where people will be playing, speeches, etc. You’re huddled there together for a good few hours discussing, planning and sorting things for it.

Just as your wrapping up, ready to go to your lecture together which was soon, both of you get alerted of the weather. A powerful blizzard taking place. Must stay inside. Everyone snowed in. Advised to not go out at all until it’s over which was predicted to last until the whole night. All lectures cancelled for the rest of the day.

Both of you stare up at each other, bewildered, only now hearing the wind howling and the snow hitting against the window extremely fast and powerfully. Whilst it was snowing crazy on the way to beomgyu’s place, you didn’t think or anticipate it to progress into a full blown snow storm. It’d be crazy to go out in that. But you’ve got to try and make it back home or you’re stuck.

You grab your coat and start putting it back on.

“Hey, where are you going? Are you mad? You can’t go out in that!”

“But I should probably go back home!”

“You might die bro! That’s not safe. You might die from like…hypothermia or... get blown away from the winds and then disappear and never be found!” Beomgyu dramaticises, “You should just stay at mine until it calms down.” The snow storm seems gradually get worser and even more severe as he carried on speaking, proving his point and you can hear the windows rattling from the sheer force.

You sigh, “Yeah i guess you’re right, it would be stupid to go out in that.” And he nods.

“Well, looks like we’re snowed in together. What should we do?”

You watch a lot of movies together huddled cozily on his sofa, beomgyu’s commentary making it a lot more funnier and making the incredibly awful films slightly more bearable.

“What B rated Christmas film shall we watch next?” Beomgyu asks after you’re done finishing yet another one.

“Please! No more I need to take a break it’s actually hurting my head.”

He laughs at that, eyes wrinkling cutely and smile so pretty— “What should we do instead?…Y/n? Hello?”

You don’t process what he says at first, too busy lost in your improper thoughts about your partner next to you. “Huh? Oh! Ummm we could film another one of your streams if you want. Now’s good timing since we’re here and not like we can really go anywhere.”

“Yeah that’s true, let’s do it then.” Beomgyu says slightly timidly, still shy about streaming with you.

He gets out his toys and whatnot, you setting up the camera again and you choose the new flesh light both of you had acquired recently with the money from the streams, telling him to use that today since you know it would garner a lot of reactions.

Despite beomgyu being a camboy for quite a while, he’d never actually tried a flesh light properly before and the one you guys had purchased looked a bit too real to him, looking at it already made him kinda hard and also embarrassed.

Once you guys had set up everything and gotten ready for it, you pressed the button to go live and started recording.

Beomgyu sits, legs spread out and bent level to his chest, his pretty belly button piercing in view and his legs covered with his usual pretty thigh highs, taking the fleshlight and very slowly easing it down on tip, his mouth already agape from just that.

He brings the toy down and back up on his length, slowly sucking him in each time, hips rolling languidly into it as you watched in awe, also monitoring the comments who seemed to be in the same predicament as you.

His lip is caught between his teeth, trying to silence his continuous whimpers. He looked so out of it just from fucking into silicone, it drove you mad. He made it so hard just to sit and watch and carry on filming.

Beomgyu's pace grows unsteady, cock throbbing and jerking, getting delirious with each stroke of the now sticky toy, squirming in need whilst you watched him.

He wanted to be touched so bad. He needed you to touch him. He couldn't take it, fucking himself pathetically with just a toy whilst you're right there. He wants you to fuck him. He needs it at this point.

Beomgyu looks straight at you with half lidded eyes, whining and looking at you so seductively, "Wish it was your pussy I was fucking-h-hah...ah."

You know he's just talking to the fans but you can't help imagining he was begging you instead. "Want you to fuck me. I need it please-ahh" Beomgyu hopes you'd get the hint and just come over and fuck him already, whilst also trying to be discrete about it, not wanting to give himself away too much.

You look away, going to the comments, feeling embarrassed about your thoughts and beomgyu suddenly whines incredibly loud, brows furrowing. "Please!!", looking straight into your eyes.

You can't take it anymore. You walk over to him, stilling his movements of the fleshlight and his eyes widen, stumbling over his words. He didn’t think it’d actually work. You move the fleshlight on his dick with your own hands over his, twisting it around and he gasps, looking up at you pleadingly.

“You want to get fucked?” He nods his head continuously. “But you’re a virg-”

“-Please! I want it!”

“Are you sure?” He nods again and breathes out a yes but you still search his eyes for any uncertainty.

When you don’t find any, you remove the fleshlight off him, straddling his hips, taking off your own clothes. You jerk his dick a couple times and then as gently as you can, place his dick to your entrance, slowly sinking on his tip, making his head throw back with a groan before sitting on his whole length, he lets a loud strangled moan at that, “O-oh god…”

You slowly ride him, beomgyu’s mouth in an ‘o’ shape the whole time. He’s fucked himself countless of times before and he never thought actually getting fucked would be much different or would feel that great like some people say but he can confirm that it in fact does feel that great. He didn’t think it would feel this good. He can’t stop moaning and you’re not even remotely going fast.

You can’t believe you’re actually fucking Angel. Like, you’re actually fucking him right now. It’s even better than how you imagined countless times, his reactions so fucking pretty. You used to just watch him from a small screen not knowing who he was and now you’re making him so pussy drunk, eyes rolling to the back of his head, intoxicated and so fucked out from just slowly rolling your hips on his, the first person to fuck him and make him feel like this.

You quicken your pace, hitting a bit deeper and he moans, burying his face in your neck, trembling and drooling. You can hear numerous pings going off every second from people sending in tips. You bet the viewers are going insane right now.

“Y/n, I think-I think I’m gonna cum already…” Beomgyu whimpers, eyes so glazed up, lost in the pleasure and then you feel him suddenly cum inside you with a broken mewl. “Ahh…I-I’m sorry y/n, I’m sorry…!” Beomgyu sniffles, face flushed pink, tears brimming his eyes, so embarrassed from already cumming so fast.

You keep bouncing on his spent dick, ruffling his hair, “it’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Think you can cum again?”

His eyes widening at the name and praise and you move to gently play with his nipples, body jerking up in response, someone else touching his nipples making him even more sensitive than he usually is, pretty sounds coming out of his mouth none stop as if he’s a drone, cries accelerating and elevating in pitch whilst you fucked him dumb.

“Cum, baby.” So he does again, muffling his screams by burying his face in your neck again, one of his hand coming to claw at your back, shuddering and spilling his release, cumming hard from being fucked for the first time, whole body flushed and glistening, eyes shut and eyebrows still furrowed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants. So, so, so fucking pretty.

You go back to get the camera, zooming in and filming a close up for the viewers of his ‘just fucked and came’ face, beomgyu still delirious and softly groaning and panting, brows still knitted even afterwards.

You check to see how much you guys made and you gasp. It was double the amount even on the days he makes the most money. It was a fuck ton of money.

You go back to beomgyu to see if he’s doing good and it seems like he’s recovering from his high. “Look how much we made.” You show him the tips and even beomgyu gasps.

Once you both had taken it in turns to shower, beomgyu lends you some of his clothes. When you’d agreed to stay at beomgyu’s place until the snow storm calmed down, you didn’t fully realise that would mean staying over night with him even though it literally said it was expected to carry on exactly the same as it was during the night.

And now here you were in his bedroom. It was quite a nice bedroom, you had been in before but you never fully took in the sight of the room, fairy lights strewn across the room, record player, his multiple guitars on one side with band posters and numerous bear plushies on his bed.

"Where are your spare pillows and blankets? I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t have any spare pillows or blankets. Also I can’t just let my guest sleep on the floor!”

“Then what?”

“We’ll sleep on the bed together. It’s big enough. And you literally just fucked me so I don’t think it really matters.”

He is right about that so you both head to the bed, throwing off some of the plushies except for one which he keeps to the side and you lie down on the left whilst he lies down on the right.

“Good night y/n~”

You can feel his body presence near you. It kinda makes you feel uneasy for some reason. It’s definitely not because you find him really attractive or anything. You don’t find him attractive.

It’s extremely cold due to the blizzard, you’d think being in the bed with covers on you would keep you warm but you’re absolutely fucking freezing.

“Am I the only one completely shivering here?” Beomgyu turns to face you, also cold.

“No you’re not the only one. Do you not have the heating on or something?”

“It’s broken. They still haven’t fixed it.”

“Seriously what’s wrong with your building?”

“I have no idea…You know what this means y/n...? A grin slowly appearing on his face.

“What?”

“We have to cuddle…or we might actually die…” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows.

“We’re not cuddling.”

“We’re both freezing! It totally calls for it! This is literally the only one bed trope in real life.”

“You didn’t just say that…”

“We’re living our wattpad moment right now. Don’t you wanna cuddle with your love interest?” Beomgyu makes a kissy face at you and you put your hand to shield him from whatever he was doing, used to his flirty antics by now.

"You'd never be my love interest." It's not that you didn't want to but you're sure your heart would literally give out if you did.

Beomgyu gasps, "How can you say that when I'm so handsome?"

"That's a very generous word to describe yourself."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that and that the offer still stands. This is a LIFE or DEATH situation. We will freeze to death. And die. DIE. "

Well it was very cold. You sigh, "Fine. Come here."

"What? No, you come here."

"I want to be big spoon though!"

"So do I!" You narrow your eyes at him and he does the same.

"Well, we both can't obviously be the big spoon." Beomgyu gives you a deadpan look.

So you both settle for both of you coming in to hug each other, you arms around his waist, his around yours, his head resting snuggly on your shoulder with a content smile. You instantly felt warmer, beomgyu so warm and so close. You were freaking out to say the least but you tried your hardest to seem casual about it all.

“Beomgyu, how did the rumour of you being a fuckboy come about anyway?” You ask, not wanting to go to sleep just yet.

“I don’t know because I can be quite flirty. And there was also this guy that I used to be good friends with and his chick was like in love with me and one time she just randomly kissed me at a party and he got mad at me, saying I was trying to steal his girl even though I literally did nothing and he knew that but then he just started beating me up! And told everyone I was a girlfriend stealer and a fuckboy. We stopped being friends. He still carried on dating that girl, she broke up with him a few months ago though.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. It kinda sucks to be honest because people either hate me for no actual reason or people at parties just think I’m an easy fuck and only want to fuck me.” Beomgyu pouts.

“Why were you a virgin for so long?”

“Because everyone thought I was like really good at sex if I was a fuckboy so every time I was close to fucking someone I’d just get really nervous they’d think I was super amazing and I couldn’t tell them I was a virgin so I’d just back out.”

“How come you let me?”

“Because we’re close friends! And you know and I didn’t feel like that with you.”

“We’re close…?” Your eyes widen.

“What?! I’m offended you don’t think the same. We’re literally cuddling right now. And we work and hang out together all the time?!”

To be honest, you thought guys were more like acquaintances. You were just working on the performance and helping him with his business, but for him to call you a close friend made you kinda warm and fuzzy inside. You wanted to be Beomgyu’s friend. He was cool actually.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and comment !!!! if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 🤨👎Feedback is always appreciated it makes me happy :)

A/n: I love how I said idk when this chapter would be out and then ends up posting it the next day 😍😍 Also I’m sorry if this is lowkey bad I had no idea what was going on I am sorry

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[sb-1495]

cw hallucinations, brief description of violent imagery (torture)

They’re investigating a ruined dungeon when it happens.

The crew was separated after they came across some lone pirate who claimed to be an archaeologist, much to Robin’s amusement. He was trying to dig up some sort of relic that makes everyone who disturbed it “go mad,” supposedly. Though, the more they talked to him, it was clear that he was messing with things out of his depth, the surrounding ruins leaking with something sinister. And as the crazed man struck the wall with his pickaxe, the ground crumbled beneath them and swallowed them whole.

Which is how every Straw Hat found themselves stranded in a labyrinthian ruin.

Zoro’s not afraid, because he knows he can keep his senses about him.

More so than usual, the place is a goddamn maze and Zoro keeps hearing little sounds like the shift of blowing sand and water dripping somewhere that he can’t pinpoint. But no matter how loud he yells, he doesn’t hear a single one of his crewmates call back. He considered just smashing through the walls, but he recalls Robin emphasizing the flimsy structural integrity; one load-bearing wall could bury everyone, and Zoro doesn’t feel like digging that much.

So he stomps aimlessly through the quiet rubble, ducking through worn stone arches, listening for anything, any familiar voice that could lead him out.

“Help…”

Zoro freezes in his tracks. That was. A voice.

“H-Help…!”

Zoro clenches his jaw. He knew that voice. But at the same time he didn’t. That was the stupid cook’s voice. But it didn’t sound right.

It wasn’t right.

“S-somebody… please… I ca-can’t—”

Zoro starts to walk again. That couldn’t be the cook. It sounded exactly like him. No way was he mistaking that grating voice for someone else, it could only be him. But it didn’t sound any way the cook sounded like before. It must be a trick.

“An-Anyone… I’ll even take… th-the moss head at this point, haha…”

A pained gasp reverberates against the pathways, choking on something, and Zoro realizes he’s been holding his breath. It was a trap, that sounded like Curly, but it wasn’t. When the cook was down in a fight, he was either gritting his teeth to get back up, or he was out cold. He might yell out for backup if he was still standing and conscious, or grumble towards some unspoken agreement if he was back-to-back against Zoro. If he were really backed into a corner, maybe he’d scream angrily.

“Stupid… marimo…”

Zoro steps on something. A cigarette butt, he thinks. He doesn’t pause to check.

But the cook never begged for help. Never sounded so defeated and helpless, the calls Zoro heard just faint whispers against stone. This had to be an illusion, concocted by some sick bastard cloying through his mind for something that would distract him. An odd choice, surely one he’ll laugh about later to his crew once they find each other. He’ll laugh and tease the cook about begging him for help, another point for Zoro in their never-ending games.

“Z-Zoro…”

Except that Zoro can’t laugh right now. He has felt terrible agony. Imagined terrible scenarios. Yet he couldn’t fathom how a sound could fill him with such despair until right this very moment.

“Zoro..! Help, Zoro…!!”

A sob echoes through the halls and Zoro is running.

Something pulls at him, leading him where he needs to be, his feet carrying him so fast that his shoulders are checking chunks of stone out of entryways, and he can’t remember what Robin said about the structure of this place because his voice is calling to Zoro for help and Zoro needs it to stop.

In his mind flashes the scene of a bloodied cook being tortured, with blades stuck through his hands to keep him against the floor, with his legs snapped and sprawled beneath him, his spirit broken and begging for it to end, and Zoro knows this can’t be true, it’s all made up because Sanji is razor-sharp steel just like him, and there’s no way that could happen to him, he couldn’t let that happen to him, and as Zoro climbs steps towards a room with a light, he’s still holding his breath—

“MOSSHEAD, STOP!!!”

Fingernails dig into his arm as he’s pulled back, his leg hovering just shy of the last step.

He breathes. The fog clears. He stares at the ground in front of him. The stairwell he climbed dropped off into a deep, dark pit, several stories of floor having collapsed a long time ago. The light he saw earlier was gone, the echoing voice quieted, and Zoro blinks away the memories as best he can. It takes a few moments to will himself to turn back to the hand on his bicep.

It’s Sanji.

It’s the cook. A little banged up, but no more than usual. He’s alive. He’s fine. And he’s staring at Zoro like he does when he’s half-dead in the infirmary.

“Idiot, you nearly fell to your early demise!!” He yells, finally releasing his grip on Zoro’s arm. He doesn’t mention how the cook was holding it so hard, there were red indents. “Even you couldn’t survive that fall, and I’m sure there are spikes at the bottom of that chasm! There’s some freaky shit going on in this place but I’ve found Chopper and—“

Zoro’s only half listening. It wasn’t real. He knows it wasn’t real. Knew it wasn’t. He was hearing things. He was right, it was a trick. He’s still gasping for air. And as Sanji opens his mouth to shoot a jab at him, he stops.

Zoro belatedly realizes that he grabbed Sanji’s hand at some point, thumb pressed into the palm like he’s searching for some give in his skin. A scar or wound that should be there, but isn’t. He waits for a kick that doesn’t come, his breath still uneven, and oh how he hates that. Hates his body losing control. He tries to take deep breaths, Sanji’s hand an anchor. And when he refocuses on Sanji’s face, it’s softened, brow furrowed in concern, not confusion.

He understood, somehow.

Zoro doesn’t let his grip up. Sanji doesn’t make him let go.

They don’t say anything as they start walking back together, their crewmates clearly unnerved by the sight when they reunite without a fight.

It’s only when they’re back on the Sunny, smoking and drinking by the railing under nightfall, that either of them speaks.

“What did you hear?” Sanji whispers, so quiet that Zoro nearly missed it. He could ignore it if he so chose, and the cook is fully aware.

Instead, he looks ahead, biting the inside of his cheek before replying. “What did you?”

He’s ready to be hit with a retort about dodging the question, but that doesn’t come either. The tension makes Zoro wish that Sanji would just hit him with a kick or a verbal jab. But instead, a sidelong glance spots Sanji twisting his cigarette in his mouth, thinking. Slowly, like trying not to spook a wild animal, he reached out to grab Zoro’s bicep, in nearly the exact same place he grabbed last time.

“Help.“

Zoro’s eye widens, Sanji slowly turning to meet his gaze.

“You were calling… for help.” He says, trying to keep his face level even as his voice cracks.

And Zoro wants to look away, to make a joke, throw a tease, say something, ANYTHING, to make the memories go away, to force himself to forget knowing exactly what Sanji heard, to chuck them out like a bottle to sea, to be found any other day than today.

But instead he nods, a mournful grimace creeping on his face.

“Yeah,” Zoro whispers, the quiet night stretching between them. The only sounds to be heard are the gentle shifts of Zoro’s hand over the cook’s, and the drip of Sanji’s tears against the Sunny railing.

[arc852]

27. Key

Definition: a small piece of shaped metal which is inserted into a lock and turned to open or close it.

Summary: Skizz gets locked out and so Gem comes to help him.

G/t: Skizz is normal-sized, Gem is a borrower

Word Count: 786

AO3 Link

This takes place in the same universe as Grit and Foggy! I hope you guys enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Dang it!”

 Gem jumped, startled by the sudden muffled exclamation. She was currently on the kitchen counter, seeing if there was anything good for her to borrow. She knew that, ever since she revealed herself to Impulse and Skizz, there really was no reason for her or Grian to borrow anymore. But sometimes it was nice to just do what felt familiar.

 Gem looked over toward the front door, the source of where the voice had come from. It was clearly Skizz’s voice but it was weird he hadn’t come inside yet. The doorknob jiggled, but otherwise remained closed. 

 Her interest piqued, Gem found her way back into the walls and towards the entrance into the outside. They hardly ever used this, since outside was dangerous and not really worth it but it was good to have an outside exit just in case. 

 Gem found herself near the front door on the ground and looked up to see that it was indeed Skizz standing there. He looked frustrated which sent a brief shiver down Gem’s spine. But she ignored it. Skizz was not mad at her and even if he was, he would never hurt her. She had learned this over the past few weeks of knowing both him and Impulse.

 “Skizz?” She called out to him. “What are you doing?” Skizz jumped and his eyes immediately looked down and widened when he saw Gem.

 “Gemstone? I could ask you the same thing.” Skizz said with a chuckle, kneeling down so he wasn’t so far above her.

 “Just thought it was weird you hadn’t gone inside yet.” Gem said with a shrug.

 “Yeah, turns out I forgot my keys this morning. And since Impulse locked the door on his way out, I got no way to get in.” Skizz sighed and then looked at his watch. “And Impulse doesn’t get home for another two hours. Which means I’m stuck out here.”

 Gem hummed, looking up at the lock on the door. Maybe Skizz wasn’t as stuck as he thought. “Actually, I think I can help!” Gem exclaimed with a grin. Skizz blinked, tilting his head.

 “Oh?” Skizz asked and Gem nodded.

 “Yep. Here, pick me up and I’ll show you.” Gem said.

 Skizz froze at her suggestion. Had he heard her right? “You want me to…pick you up? Are you sure?”

 “I…oh.” Gem paused, realizing what she had just asked Skizz to do. At this point in time, Gem still hadn’t been picked up or held at all, by either Impulse or Skizz. Gem was usually very adamant that she didn’t need the help, preferring to climb and get places her own way. The fact that she had asked Skizz to pick her up without even thinking about it was weird.

 Well…maybe not so weird. She did trust him after all. Though she was nervous about being held, Grian had done it and was fine. Of course he was. And the more Gem thought about it, the more okay she was with Skizz picking her up. Besides, if she wanted to help him, she needed a way up there.

 “I’m sure.” Gem said after a moment, not a hint of hesitation in her tone. 

[lieslab]

Cookie monster

Summary: After working hard while preparing for a comeback, you decide to make Felix's life a little sweeter.

Pairing: Felix X gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.4K

_ _ _

When Felix came home from the JYP building, he was exhausted. Half-closed lids and sleepy eyes. One slight touch and he might topple over like a stack of dominoes. The night before, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. With a day full of bustling activity, there wasn’t time for rest. 

New dances to learn, new songs to record, another language to memorize. Glued to a chair while stylists did their best to hide the ever-growing brown bags beneath his eyes. Stuck somewhere between this reality and the next, he’d turned into a zombie. 

The same routine was starting to get to him again. The days felt repetitive and no matter how much he tried to change his mindset, it was starting to bother him. Another comeback was creeping up and everyone was trying their best to be ready for it. 

If it meant lack of sleep and a skipped meal here and there, so be it. He had one goal in mind and it was to perform and be better than the last comeback. He put too much pressure on himself and he was starting to crack. 

You saw through him easily. His multiple text messages filled with emojis had turned into a few one-word responses throughout the day. The phone calls between the two of you had ceased. You tried your best to be there for him, but it wasn’t always possible. You had a job and your own life to focus on. 

The opening of the front door caused you to end the phone call with your friend and slip into the living room. Felix stood with his eyes closed and his back pressed against the door. You studied his prominent jawline and golden freckled face while debating to approach him or not. 

Eventually, you gave into your temptation and started towards him. His eyes opened and his lips turned up into a sleepy smile. “Hi, baby.” He held his arms out towards you. 

You hurried forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Your own smile appeared on your face as you pressed your cheek into his white shirt. “Hi. Did you have a good day?” 

“It was okay, but I’m exhausted.” His arms engulfed you in a loving hug. You let out a soft sigh and held him a little tighter. He chuckled, “what’s this for?” 

“Am I not allowed to miss my significant other?” You glanced up at him with a teasing tone. 

He shrugged, “you’re not normally too fond of skin-ship.” 

“You might have caught me. I’ve had a rough day and I missed you more than I usually do. Plus, you have a comeback and interviews and traveling and yo-” 

Felix groaned at the thought of it all. “Please don’t remind me. I just want to climb into our bed. I went to the studio this morning and I swear I could feel the stress in the building throughout the day. Everyone is putting so much pressure on themselves. We’re exhausted and the comeback isn’t here yet.” 

“It sounds like you guys need a break.” 

“I know,” Felix frowned, “but we can’t afford to take one right now. It’ll smooth over soon, it always does, but until then; we all feel like we’re in a bit of a rut right now. I love my job and I love my fans so much, but sometimes I wish I could take a week long break.” 

“And everyone is working so hard right now. So many people are exhausted, but they keep going. It’s unhealthy, but it’s inspiring too. I’m not sure how they’re doing it. The band members, our personal staff and stylists, the management, etc. They’re doing an amazing job and I wish I knew how to thank them for staying strong in such a chaotic time period.” 

Another smile appeared on your face. Felix was one of the most selfless people you knew. Even in a time of madness, he was still looking out for the people around him. You knew exactly what people were referring to when they called him sunshine. 

He placed his chin on top of your head and closed his eyes. He basked in the warmth of your presence. He spent all day counting down the minutes until he could be back with you and now here you were. The two of you made it through another day safe and sound and found each other in the other’s arms. 

After a few more seconds, you pulled away. Felix’s mouth opened in a yawn and he shoved a hand over his mouth. He murmured an apology and rubbed his eyes. He had waited all day to see you and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. He hadn’t seen you since the previous night. 

“Come on, let’s go lay down.” You slipped your hand into his and tugged him to the bedroom. “You’ll feel a lot better after you’ve had a decent night of sleep.” He stumbled after you and let you lead him down the hall. 

Once you reached the bedroom, you pulled him inside and shut the door behind you. He wasted no time pulling the covers back, but before he could climb into the bed, you stopped him. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he looked at you. 

You smiled to yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. You came back with makeup remover wipes. Your movements were soft and delicate. You made sure to remove the foundation between the creases of his nostrils. With light pressure, you pressed against his closed lids to remove the eye shadow. 

He had been in makeup for hours filming a video for their YouTube channel. Your movements caused him to let out a soft sigh. When you finished, he crawled into the bed. You threw away the makeup wipes, washed your hands, and crept into the bed beside him. 

His eyes were closed and you figured he was asleep until a mumbled “thank you” filled the air. You moved closer because you knew he liked the skin-ship. Within seconds, his face was tucked into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you and clung to you. 

There was nothing he loved more than being with you. To be encapsulated with your scent; sweet as sugar, just like you. Your bodies fit together perfectly. Felix always joked that you had been made specifically for him. Handcrafted by a god and hand delivered personally. 

The two of you met each other at a bakery. Felix was a sucker for sweets and you were picking up a friend’s birthday cake. You were in a rush and nearly took the poor man out in your hurry. You apologized and hurried out of the bakery. 

You were in such a rush that you had forgotten your wallet on the counter. When Felix realized, he grabbed it and hurried after you, but by the time he got outside, you had already disappeared. He thought he’d never see you again until he started going through your wallet to try and find information about your identification. 

He found your address on your ID. The next day, he showed up at your house. You were alarmed at the sight of him. How had the man from the bakery found your house? He reassured you he wasn’t a creep, he just wanted to return your wallet. 

He stood by while you checked to make sure everything was still in it. You hadn’t realized you left it behind. Too scatterbrained due to the last minute event, it left your mind. On a whim, you invited him inside for a drink. It was the least you could do to reward him for returning the wallet. You called it an embarrassing mistake, but Felix reassured you it was fate.

One of your hands ran through his silky blonde hair. Twirling the strands around your fingers and letting it dance in your touch. Sleep washed over Felix quickly and you were left alone while he entered dreamland. You weren’t the greatest when it came to skin-ship, but Felix adored it and nothing made you happier than seeing him smile. 

After a while, you untangled yourself from his limbs. You replaced your body in Felix’s arms with your pillow. Sure it wasn’t you, but he’d still cling to it mid-sleep. He slept peacefully as long as he was wrapped around someone or something. 

You rethought the words he spoke earlier about wanting to thank everyone for working hard. Felix always loved to show his gratitude rather through his actions, his words, or gifts. Grabbing the brass knob, you slowly turned it and slipped out the door. Walking out into the kitchen in your t-shirt, shorts, and fuzzy socks, you searched through the cupboards. You didn’t have enough ingredients, but you could get them delivered via door-dash. 

In less than an hour, you had more ingredients than you possibly needed. Maybe you were going a bit overboard, but you didn’t care. You’d do anything to make Felix happy and if it meant sacrificing one night of sleep, so be it. 

You pulled out a mixing bowl, all of your ingredients, and pre-heated the oven. Grabbing a black apron from the hook in the kitchen, you slipped it over your head. With a final act of hand-washing, you were finally ready to begin. 

In the early hours of the morning, Felix’s eyes opened. He was painfully aware that the warmth of your body wasn’t beside him. The bed was empty and you were missing. He yawned and his arms stretched above his head. 

With a glance over at his alarm clock, he realized he slept for hours. For the first time in days, he felt prepared to take on the day. He slipped out beneath the covers. The cool morning air brushed against his bare arms. He shoved a hand through his hair to push it away from his forehead. 

He walked out of the room and into the hall. The faint smell of chocolate filled the air. He raised an eyebrow and padded towards the kitchen. It was a little after six in the morning. What could you possibly do with chocolate at this hour? 

The closer he got to the kitchen, the louder the soft humming was. He rounded the corner and froze in his place. His eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. He rubbed his eyes with his fists wondering if he was still dreaming. 

“Baby?” 

His deep morning voice caused you to turn from the stack of dirty dishes. You smiled at him, “good morning.” 

“What is all of this?” His eyes scanned the counter-tops. You had wrapped them in tinfoil and placed cookie after cookie on them. 

You spent all night mixing, shaping, and baking different cookies. Scooping them onto the foil lined counters and repeating. Chocolate chip, snicker-doodle, oatmeal raisin. Cookies that were bright pink, made from strawberry box cake mix, and contained white chocolate chips. Cookies from chocolate box cake mix that contained chocolate peppermint pieces. 

“Uh…cookies?” 

“Did you make these while I was sleeping?” 

“Yeah,” you turned back around to continue on your large stack of dishes. 

“Babe, there’s gotta be like hundreds of cookies here.” 

“It’s only maybe five-hundred. I lost count at some point. I got to about four-hundred and seventy-three and I got sidetracked because I had to take another sheet out of the oven. Do you want one? You can have one.” 

Felix picked up one of the light pink cookies. “What is this?” He inspected it before taking a bite of it. His eyes lit up with joy. “Oh, wow. Strawberry?” You glanced over at him and nodded. 

“Why did you make all of these?” 

“Honestly, I was having a bit of a rough night.” It wasn’t a lie. You had been having a hard night. Swarmed by anxious thoughts about the future and haunted by past mistakes. “So I threw my stress into my baking like you do sometimes.” 

“It’s a very good stress reliever.” 

“It is and you said you wanted a way to thank everyone for their hard work. I’m not sure how many employees work at your company, so I hope it’s enough. If there’s not enough, I can make more. I would have asked you to help, but you’ve been so busy and you need your rest.” 

Felix’s face softened and tears welled up in his eyes. When you didn’t hear a response, you dried your hands on a towel and turned around to face him. Thinking you did something wrong, your face fell. “What? What did I do? Did I make too many?” 

Felix quickly shook his head. “Not at all, but you didn’t have to do this.” 

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. You’ve been working hard and so has your staff and the guys. I made multiple kinds, so I hope there’s something everyone likes. I was going to make peanut butter, but then I realized someone might have a nut allergy. Plus, the chocolate chip cookies are gluten free.” 

Felix’s bottom lip quivered. He walked toward you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. His face upturned into a smile as he squeezed you. You laughed while he rocked you back and forth. 

“Thank you, baby. Have I ever told you how much I love you?” 

“I’m sure I’ve heard it a few times.” 

“Well, I love you so much. You’re really special to me, you know that? This was such a cute gesture, I love it. The guys and the staff are going to love them! I can’t wait to tell them you made them. Do you want to come in early with me and help pass them out?” 

“I should shower first. I have batter in my hair and flour on my shirt. I got so messy that the apron did very little to stop my disasters.” You pulled away after returning his hug. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

Felix watched you leave and glanced back at the cookies. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand. The sweetness of the artificial strawberry and the vanilla buttery flavor of the white chocolate combined together and exploded on his tongue. 

He laughed to himself and shook his head. His eyes scanned the cookies once more before he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He typed in his password and changed your contact to cookie monster. 

He had never loved anyone more than he loved you.

[bowieandqueen11]

Looking After A Sick Billy Butcher Would Include...

Request: I love your Billy Butcher headcanons so much! 🥰 If you are looking for another Billy Butcher idea i think either 'Looking after a Sick Billy Butcher' or 'Billy Butcher with a Plus Size reader' would be adorable, as your Steven Grant ones are so beautifully written 💕 thank you for all your incredible writing, you are truly amazing 💐

Oh thank you so much @missscarlettangel!!! You’re always the loveliest and kindest

Warning: a little strong language and slight NSFW!

(I do not own The Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @9thblogboyz.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Billy Butcher is such a dramatic ass hoe when’s sick dearie me. If you think he’s an annoying git before this, just wait until the sniffles start settling in, the man could annoy a saint to high heaven.

The man will not stay in bed. At all. You came into the home base to immediately be greeted with a near-crying Hughie and near-fuming Kimiko trying to wrestle the a**hole down onto his bed. Naturally, this ended with Hughie flying back and landing ass over tea cup through the bed side table and half off the wall, and Kimiko releasing her failing grip on his arm in shock. As soon as Billy spots you standing there, he comes swaggering out from the room, clad in his black jumper and jeans and pretending that he’s ‘alright, love. Me ‘ead is just a bit unda the weather today, that’s all.’ Even with his slick words, you can tell by how sweaty his forehead is that the man is about to keel over. He’s so damn stubborn - too prideful to admit that he could ever have a fault, but deep down, he’s also scared stricken to think he has an exploitable weakness when he’s supposed to be the big mad Charcuter. He’ll only let you touch him: and so you do, wrapping an arm past the buckles of his belt and holding onto the thick muscles around his hip. He jauntily wraps an arm around your shoulder, pretending to be as cocky as ever as you stroll him towards the living area.

‘Thanks darlin’, he whispers against the tip of your ear with a ragged breath. ‘I couldn’t take the yammering of them two cunts in my face any more. I’m glad you’re back now, we got a new job-’. He lets go of you, fisting his hand and hacking a cough against it until you push him down on the sofa to make him nap.

He’s literally that knackered that he passes out pretty much straight away. You sigh, squatting down near the window to pull off his boots and leave them resting under the perch. You wave at Hughie as he sneaks out on his tip toes like he’s in ‘Scooby Doo’ towards the door and mouths exaggeratedly at you that he’s ‘going to get some soup’. Once you’re done smiling him out, you lift Butcher’s head and wiggle onto the sofa underneath him, gently squishing his cheek back down onto your lap. For once you’re overjoyed that M.M. and Frenchie are busy arguing as they stand in front of a makeshift cork board in the safe, or Billy would never let you hear the end of it for making look like such a sap. You’re stuck there for a while: Billy whimpers in his sleep, his arms ending up at some point wrapping around your knees and sticking you in place under his thick biceps. 

The man is still clambering all over you as soon as he wakes up though. It could be the literal raining hell fire of the end of days washing down on the two of you and Billy Butcher would still be trying to climb over you like a tree. Not even in a fully sexual way - he adores you more than anything in this world, and needs some kind of constant touch when he’s feeling unsure as a reassurance that you’re still real. That you haven’t left him yet too. That he hasn’t destroyed you. You could be be sitting cross legged on the sofa next to him, huffing as you pull the blanket back up his shoulders every time Billy grumbles and pulls it off again. Dropping the cup of tea he was sipping, he uses his large fingers to quickly grab yours and pound them both down on the table. The desperation is evident in every sharp movement: the way he’s straight to grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap till you’re straddling his thick thighs, the pressure of his chin as his stubble scratches the curve of your neck, right under your earlobe. By the smirk you can feel, you know he’s doing it just to tease you, knowing it drives you wild. His arms wrap like an iron vice as he peppers languid, unrushed kisses up your pulse point. Like I’m sorry but can you imagine those coarse, rough, devoting hands running up your shoulders? Those harsh thumbs gripping the back of your head tightly and pulling you back until he’s angled you perfectly? You’re putty in his grasp, and as he grinds his midriff up against you and hears the pained whine fall from your lips, he knows it. He wets his lips, attacking your chin, and then the corner of your mouth - and then he ends up sneezing before his desperate mouth can rove any further.

The problem is, he sneezes exactly as M.M. is walking past; the poor man is just holding a cup of coffee, minding his own business as he goes to read his file in his desk chair. After a moment of standing there in confusion, he runs off to shower and makes Frenchie and Annie hose down his clothes outside for half an hour straight. He spends the rest of the day glaring at Butcher from his desk, taking out antiseptic wipes every ten minutes and spraying a can of air freshener out in his direction with a disgusted frown. 

You know better than to try and feed Billy. The man would literally snap your fingers off. Sadly, Frenchie was still under the illusion that he could just... skirt around this lesson, and came waddling happily towards Butcher with Hughie’s broth in one arm and a holding a spoon with the other. Once the airplane noises start, and the whooshing spoon through the air... well, let’s just say that it is a very lucky coincidence that there was so much traffic down fifth avenue today and the broth was tepid by the time Hughie got back. Two hours later, Frenchie is still running around with wet trousers, picking pieces of celery out of his pants and running after M.M. every time he calls him ‘pee pee boy’.

Billy always acts as if everyone’s annoying the heck out of him, but in reality, he just wants to be left alone with you for a while. By ten o’clock he’s so fed up of Hughie throwing him pity looks, and Frenchie pecking like a mother hen in his face, that he gets up and locks himself in the bathroom just to breathe for a damn minute. When you hesitantly knock twice on the door, and he unlocks it, on the floor is where you find him: curled up with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to drown out the memories of how similar the withdrawals from compound V felt as they pound through his brain. You’ll have to sit by his side, huddled up with your arm looped through his stiff one and spreading your fingers out over his kneecap, massaging it. Although he doesn’t like too much physical touch when he’s so withdrawn as he is, if your fingers leave his knee for one second he’ll start whining like a kicked puppy.

You do get to help him change out of his jumper at the end of the night though hm hm (even though he’s bloody perfectly well enough to do it himself and you both know it.) He has that shit eating smirk on his face when he sees you back in his doorway, and he holds his hands out to you, beckoning you towards him. He takes a few steps back once he feels your fingers latch onto the pads of his own, his face lighting into a smile as you draw them down to tug at the hem of the rugged material. Before you can lift it though, he brings his sock round to kick the back of your heel and has you tumbling over the edge of the bed to lie on top of his chest.

And then... *ahem*... well let’s just say that all the clothes came off pretty quickly shall we?

By the way Hughie is literally sinking his face into the cereal bowl the next morning: the way Frenchie is trying to hide his spurts of laughter from where he’s playing cards with Kimiko: how M.M. rolls his eyes and lifts his newspaper to cover his face when the two of you come dandering out of his room, you didn’t manage to be as discrete as a *sick* Billy Butcher believes himself to be. His pair of undies swinging from the ceiling fan all but confirms it.

[itsgothgirlthyme]

chapter 1: the plummet of doom

next chapter

stranger things g/t

hi! i had multiple asks for this so i finally wrote something for it!! i hope i can deliver, based on what i made last year. i wanna continue this story :) ugHh! summary is, dustin finds you, and its misery. until TADA steve harrington swoops in to save you. also the borrower is a fellow girly.

borrower!reader x steve harrington

pov: you're a borrower who got herself stuck in a trash can

Stuck between plastic you tried to pry yourself out of the darkness. The stench of rotten foods you’d wished you’d gotten your hands on before made you gag. Sure, you could take the smell of a dead mouse stuck inside a trap but still cry at its death. Yet this food, it smelled foul and your hand sunk into it. It collapsed under your fingers as you gingerly pulled your hand back. You grabbed onto a piece of black plastic and pulled yourself up. 

I’m such an idiot. 

You continued to climb up the mountains of garbage bags while trying not to fall. It was slick or sticky depending where you touched it. You recalled yourself earlier in the day when no one was home, other than for that stupid cat. You’d climbed onto the tabletop and were getting quite a few crumbs of bread. A victory you awaited to celebrate in the coziness of your walls. Yet when that thing meowed at you, it scared the shit out of you. Foolishly you misstepped and fallen into the depths of rotten peels and papers. Your hook had gotten stuck on thick brown paper and wouldn’t let go, and then the worst of it happened. That damn door to the entrance boomed making you freeze up. Your grip grew tighter as footsteps boomed in your direction. A familiar high-pitched voice of the house was talking to the devil cat.

Then she muttered something about the trash being taken out. That's when you hid under the flesh of fruit and held your breath. Then find yourself trying to untangle yourself from this mess. It had taken far too long to break the garbage bag, but journeying to the top of the tin became hard labor. You were dirty, sweating, and really wanted a breath of fresh air. Things you were used to feeling, but this time you weren’t sure if you’d make it. These humans, you weren’t sure where they threw out so much food waste in the first place. Your hands trembled. Would you suffocate in this pile of trash, or worse? 

You climbed up the last black bag closest to the lid. Yet you were so far away, and when you jumped your flicker of hope vanished. 

“Shit,” you squeaked as your foot went over something slick. 

You fell on top of another bag in the darkness and looked up at the ceiling. The longer you looked at the dark metal caved lid your eyes welled up. This couldn’t be it, to die due to your own foolishness. You’d expected to die due to a fight with the whiskered beast, or crushed by the hand of a human. Not being dumped into the trash due to your own skittishness (or stupidity). 

“No,” you said to yourself. You got up and slid down the trash to hit the metal can. You started to bang it in frustration, like it would open. You shouted till your throat got sore, not remembering when you’d even shouted last. Hot tears slipped down your face, at least you wouldn’t go down quietly. Yet no one would know, the mad little borrower, screaming till they could no longer breathe. 

Your knuckles stung and your tears had stopped. Then a loud creaking noise followed by being shed in golden light made you gasp. Tearful again you turned to look up and your eyes went wide. The house you borrowed from, the boy that lived there, stared down at you in awe.

“Holy shit,” he said. 

You purse your lips together and lean into the wall. 

I think I’ll die actually. 

Your thoughts were not answered as a large hand loomed over you. You ran and tried to dig your way into the garbage. When you tried to dive in further into the trash he’d gotten your leg. Pulling you out painfully slowly and you sighed. This was worse than trash death, this was so much worse. You were held upside down and you were met with his dark brown eyes. His fingers pinched your ankle and you were terrified it would break. 

“What are you?” he asked. 

A warm cloud of air hit your face causing you to swing. You stayed silent, not daring to give this kid more reason to keep you around. You hoped. Again, your hopes were crushed as he dropped you into darkness. The small space had even you feeling cramped in as you kicked the doors of it. He shushed you but that only made you kick harder. The doors wouldn’t budge but when you heard two voices you stopped. 

Then it went quiet. Then it went still. Then something zipped and you hit the ground. 

“Ow,” you muttered.

The ground under you was colored red and felt like dust. You became distracted for a moment as you put it between your fingers. Tiny rocks slipped past your fingers, and your lips parted. You realized it was quite warm as well, and when you looked up you hissed. It was a bright light that packed a lot of heat it seemed. You’d never seen it before, or maybe you had. You looked away and blinked. Seeing the outline of the light in dark colors everywhere you looked. Then you saw the kid again, staring at you. 

You stood up and already scurried off under a piece of wood. Yet he knew you were there but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d rather die trying to survive than playing his game. 

“Aw, hey buddy. I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was now above you. 

“Buddy,” you scoffed with a brow raised. 

This kid was trying to act like a nice guy? 

“Look, uh. I don’t know if you know English actually,” he said. You looked to the other exit of the wood tunnel and started to crawl through it. “But I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he said. When you crawled out you saw him, staring right at you. He frowned but then his face lit up. 

“Maybe you’re hungry,” he seemed determined as he scurried out of the room. You looked back at the red dust to see it stopped at… glass. Your heart dropped and you got out of the wooden tunnel. You looked around to see your worst nightmare. You were trapped in a glass box, and the only way out was up. Your heart started to pound against your chest and your hand touched it. You wanted to cry again, and you weren’t sure if it was possible to. 

Then something fell right beside you, and you looked back up. The kids' fingers pulled away and you looked back down. There was a pile of food beside you and you licked your lips. The kid told you to go ahead and eat from the same source. He called it, KitCat? Whatever it was, it took you a moment but you dug right in. It tasted like heaven to you, it melted in your mouth and was sweet. A different kind of sweet from that one time you had the peel of an apple or any other food. 

You’d sat down beside it and ate away till you were full. When you were done, you could feel his eyes burning the back of your head. You sighed, now full, at least feeling a little better, but what now? 

“My name is Dustin,” he introduced himself. 

Your brows shot up and you looked up at him. 

“Dustin,” he pointed at himself. 

The giant child was trying to have a conversation with you. You sighed, defeated, and took in a deep breath. You stood up and told him your name. This sent him into being a crazed maniac. He was giggling, gasping, and practically shouting at you. You just stared back up at him in shock at how overjoyed he was to hear you say a couple of words. You decided to stay quiet afterward, already regretting those words. You’d hidden under the wooden log and curled yourself up into a ball. You didn’t even have your damn hook anymore, you felt naked, useless. Eventually, the kid gave up, told you goodnight, and turned the lights off. Except yours. Thankfully it was a quiet night as you tried to fight off heavy eyelids. Eventually darkness, once again, got the best of you. 

You felt weightless and then your face crashed into something. You blinked your eyes open and realized you were trapped in darkness. You rubbed your eyes and your body flung toward another wall in the darkness. You hissed in response and backed up to the other wall. You steadied yourself and then your heart sank. 

Last night flashed before your eyes and now you were here. Stuck inside the trap he’d put you in last night. Going who knows where, and you couldn't fight it. You couldn’t do anything so you kicked the opening again. Nothing happened, but you did it again. You kicked again and again until you got tired. 

Being thrown into a bag and tossed around was not ideal. All the while this kid, Dustin, said nothing to you. You sat, defeated in his trap, as loud muffled noises met your ears. It scared the hell out of you, to be in this position. Would he tell other humans about you? What was he going to do with you? It made your head hurt. 

Time passed, and finally, the bag opened. You were lying down and were immediately met with new faces. They all looked wide-eyed, mouths dropped and they were all children. 

“Oh what the…” you stood up while trying to sink back into the bag. 

“What is that?” the boy with thick black hair said. 

You raised a brow at that, that. They are referring to you as it? 

Dustin told them your name and you rubbed your temple. Your neck strained looking up at a total of five new faces. Oh, you hated this, this is bad. 

“What? Did you name it?” the boy with a bandana tied around his head asked. 

“It’s my own name,” you spoke up. 

All eyes snapped to you and you stayed seated. You looked over your shoulder and your eyes went wide. All you could see were patches of long thick green grass. 

“This is insane,” the redhead girl said. 

“Isn’t it so cool?” Dustin said giddily. 

You followed the conversation, kinda, but eventually, you lost track of the topics. Something about a creature named Dart, and how Dustin found you. You hopped over the ledge and your feet were met with a soft ground. The blades of grass met your height and the edge of your lips tugged upward. You reached a hand out to touch it but then you got scooped up into a warm hand. 

Damnit. 

You struggled against their grip but their fingers just tightened around you. The world spun until you were met by the kids' faces again. They started to blur in front of you and your breath started to get shallow. Once again you’d faded into darkness. 

—

It had been a couple of days of being handled and biting your tongue. You’d still been staying in Dustin’s glass box, which was called an “aqua-something” you couldn’t remember. You’d occasionally see his pet “turtle” slowly walking around on the floor. You sat on the log with your head in your hands. Trying to think of a way out of the cage, since Dustin put down the mesh top on it. You were close to escape two nights ago but had managed to mess up your leg. It wasn’t till you were awkwardly walking around in the morning he’d made the connection.

You perked up when you heard the door and slid under the log. You watched Dustin walk in on his lonesome. That was odd, usually the other kids joined him to just watch you (creepy). He flopped onto the bed and huffed. You rested your hands on the log and watched him look sad. It actually made your heart crack at the sight. Dustin hadn’t treated you horribly, but not amazingly either. Yet, you knew human children were complicated. You’d heard his mom complain about his teenage years when you were still in the walls.

Your brows furrowed and you huffed. Yep, now you remembered why you hated him. He took you away from your quiet, peaceful life which would have ended in a trashy death. When you zoned back into reality Dustin was no longer in bed. The hairs on your neck rose as a shadow loomed over you. Exhausted, you just let him pick you up into his warm palms. He held you in a loose fist and you stared up at him. 

“You’re still mad at me?” he asked. 

You didn’t say anything and he sighed. Clearly, you were still upset over him holding you so tightly you’d passed out. The first time he showed you to his friends, he’d left bruises for days all over your ribs. They were sore alongside your pride, now with the addition of a possibly broken leg. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated for the millionth time. You looked away with little to no interest in his words. If you had any power over him, it was this. You didn’t give him what he wanted, and he’d leave you alone. Most of the time. This time he’d placed you in his backpack which had duck tape all over one side. You were surrounded by duck tape on the inside as well and pressed yourself up against it. He’d travel in silence the entire time and that freaked you out. The kid was always talking your ear off, even when you were pretending to not listen. Honestly, the things he said confused you but again, interested you. 

In the darkness, you finally heard Dustin whispering. Another voice whispered back and soon enough you were jostled in the bag. You landed on your bad leg and bit down a yelp. The sound of the zipper was followed by light. You dragged yourself to the corner of the pocket and were still shed by a shadow. 

“Dude, what are you talking about? There's nothing here,” a guy said. 

“She’s probably hiding, hold on,” Dustin said. 

Damn right, I am. 

You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your knee to your chest. You blinked in surprise as the surface below you tipped. You started to slide and you had nothing to grab onto. Your good leg met with a hard surface and the bag disappeared. Your eyes darted around you and you found out you were on an open table. Escape was possible. 

“What the–” you heard as Dustin cut off the voice. 

“Right?” Dustin introduced you to the voice.

You slowly turned around to be met with someone older for once. You take a step back and cringe at the pain shooting up your leg. The guy looked at you with wide brown eyes but they softened. His tense shoulders relaxed and his brows furrowed. He put his hands on the table and he looked at Dustin. 

“She’s scared, and looks like hell,” he said. Soon enough loud voices filled your ears as you started to step away to the edge of the table. You looked down at the drop which would surely end you. A shiver ran up your spine and you looked over your shoulder. 

…

Steve watched you and his chest cracked at the sight. You were pale and were shaking like a leaf. Not to mention the limp in your walk. You’d been handled by Dustin and his knucklehead friends. He ran a hand through his hair and put a hand on his hip. He’d dealt with weird shit before but you were something entirely new. He didn’t want to freak you out, considering Dustin had helped in that department already. 

“Okay okay,” Steve tapped the table, “Dustin, I’m taking her.” 

“What?” Dustin asked and your head snapped to Steve. 

Steve’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “I mean, they’ll just stay with me. Dustin, clearly you’ve done enough.”

Dustin tried to fight his idea, claiming you’d been “found” by him. If anything you helped him, you vividly remember going insane in a trash can. That led him to opening it, so you really saved yourself, kinda.

“Dustin, just look at her,” Steve pointed at you. 

Dustin’s anger washed away but no words followed. 

“Steve!” Robin shouted from the other side of the doors. 

“Yeah, I heard you!” Steve shouted back. 

You jumped and he apologized immediately. Your tiny face finally looked up at him but he couldn’t detect your emotions. Once Dustin recapped Steve on what had happened up to this point, Robin burst in. 

“Jesus,” Steve jumped and turned around to face her. He moved himself to cover you from her vision as Robin started to complain to him. 

“C’mon doofus, it's my break time,” Robin exclaimed and continued to complain. 

Your heart raced as you let Steve’s silhouette cover you from her eyes. Dustin kept looking at you but you could never meet his eyes. You sidestepped closer to Steve and the edge of the table. Your head was spinning, and you were losing sight of your escape plan “the plummet of doom” you’d called it 5 minutes ago. 

“Oh my god, what is that?” you heard and you looked upward.

Robin, Steve, and Dustin loomed over you. Your heart plummeted to your stomach and you slid off the table. You hugged a leg of the table and made your way down. Shouts followed and then your fingers gave out. Hair whipped your face as you shut your eyes tight. Instead of being met with a hard floor you were met with something soft. You opened your eyes to see Steve staring down at you, inches away. Your face flushed at the closeness while he looked startled. His fingers cave in around you to hold you still and you don’t move.

“Jesus, who jumps off a ledge like that?” was the first thing he blurted.

[catieconqueso]

Of where we'd end up at the end of it...

An Apollo x Grace Oneshot (4k words) I wanted to explore the Veil a little further since its really only mentioned as this ominous thing that happens when a new Idol rises. So here's a not-so-quick one shot featuring Grace dealing with the effects of the Veil.

Usually I only post my writing on Ao3, but since there's no Stray Gods tag yet, posting this here instead. (Please be nice! I don't usually post my writing here!)

She’s still sitting on the couch, clutching a cup of iced coffee that’s more water than coffee, when the light switches on and bathes the apartment in soft golden light. “Grace?” Freddie’s standing in the doorway stuck somewhere halfway between the doorframe and shoving her keys into her back pocket as she stares at the only occupant of a room that should have been empty. “What the hell are you doing here?” Grace doesn’t answer, not at first, just stares blankly at Freddie as she flicks her wrist over and over to swirl the liquid in her coffee cup as if it were the only thing keeping her from floating away. And it was. “Didn’t know where to go,” she finally admits after a period of silence that has just begun to border on uncomfortable. “And I still had my keys, so I thought…” She trails off, the thumb of her free hand stroking along the golden sun hung around her middle finger.

“Gods, Grace,” Freddie exhales as she toes off her boots and climbs onto the couch beside her. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why didn’t you call?” She doesn’t need to ask who ‘we’ meant, not with the two dozen missed calls and texts left unseen on her phone—Freddie, Kaz and Brian, Oracle, even a voicemail from Persephone, who’d merely informed Grace that she’d go to the Underworld and kick her shade’s ass if she was lying in a ditch somewhere. And beneath all that had been a single text of garbled capital letters and punctuation that had begged her to please come home. That it was okay that she was mad at him, that he just wanted her to come home. “I…” She begins, throat aching and raw from hours spent choking down tears and screaming into whatever pillow was closest. “I…” She starts again, swallowing thickly over the lump of emotion that threatens to choke her, but the words won't come out no matter how hard she tries. Some Muse she was, unable to string together a couple sentences worth of an excuse so she could go back to wallowing in her self-pity alone. So instead, she hands Freddie the coffee cup. Grace tries to ignore the way her hands shake as she does so. She tries even more to forget the name written in looping ink that taunts her from between Freddie’s outstretched fingers. “Grace, what are you…oh.” For all her trying to hide it, Grace easily clocks the exact moment when Freddie’s confusion devolves into pity. And then into hesitant worry as she tucks the cup into the couch cushions beside her.

“The barista asked for my name,” Grace explains, thumb still working impatient circles into the gold ring on her finger. “And I said it was Calliope.”

It had been such a little thing, an off-handed moment that shouldn’t have meant anything— a slip of the tongue. And it's not like she didn’t know this was coming, not with all the gentle touches and easing into the newness of it all. But she’s starting to lose more bits of herself day by day. She’s taken to drinking tea in the morning instead of her usual overly sweet coffee, even though a month ago, the bitter taste of it made her want to puke. And that the sound of ocean waves has begun to remind her of a summer spent some time in the 18th century wrapped in the warmth of the sun while lying naked on a bed of sand. That the scent of the newly sprouted cherry blossoms lining the entrance of Olympus reminds her of Paris in springtime, even though she’s never even left the country. But most of all, it's that two days ago, she looked in the mirror and for a split second didn’t recognize the face looking back.

It’s how it works. We all went through it, kid. Persephone had told her that night over too many glasses of whiskey beneath the neon lights of the Underworld when Grace had taken to drowning out the feeling that she was a stranger in her own skin with whatever booze she’d been able to get her hands on. Didn’t Apollo warn you?

Of course, Apollo had warned her. He’d spent every waking minute preparing her for the moment when Calliope would come rushing in like the tide on mornings they’d gotten up early to watch the sunrise. Just gotta let it happen, Grace. I’ll be there waiting on the other side when it does. Stupid, sweet Apollo, who’d been nothing but achingly gentle when Grace wanted nothing more than to rage against the shit hand that fate had dealt her. Had soothed the storm that swirled inside her when all she could think about was ending the cycle just so the next Calliope didn’t have to watch helplessly as everything that made her Grace slipped away. “Oh, Grace,” Freddie breathes out as she settles a warm hand on her knee with a watery smile. “I…” Freddie swallows, testing her next words on her tongue before she lets them free in a rush of an exasperated sigh. Cause it's not like this is the first time Grace’s disappeared for a few days, only to reappear as though nothing were wrong, still riding on the tail end of a bender. “Does Apollo know?” Grace shrugs and sinks into the couch cushions as though they were swallowing her up, and she wishes they would. “We’re not exactly talking at the moment,” she admits with a pang of guilt she hasn’t felt since she was a kid and her mom caught her sneaking out to go to some concert with Freddie.

“Grace,” Freddie repeats, fingers stroking along the swath of bare, pale skin that peaks out from beneath the hole worn into denim over her kneecap. “I think you should…” “I know Fred,” she interrupts, again letting her thumb trace over the golden sun, “it…I said some real shitty things to him, not sure he wants to see me.”

He wanted her to come home so he could take care of her 'cause that’s all he did— he took care of her when all she wanted was someone to see her, to hear her. Had pacified the storm in her until it was nothing more than a breeze and had reduced her walls to rubble so that he could easily crawl inside. When he tried to clean up the broken pieces of the mirror, of her cracked and broken sanity, she’d thrown it back in his face. Called him a coward, had accused him of wanting Calliope and not her, that he’d stuck around to ensure that every last piece of her was replaced. And patient, kind Apollo had remained silent as he wiped the gore from her knuckles with gentle touches and soft presses of his lips to her bloodied skin. But they both had been too stubborn to apologize. He’d once warned her so long ago outside of the Underworld that Idols liked to hold grudges. And they’d both become so good at holding onto theirs like a lifeline in a swirling sea. So instead of speaking, of putting the weeks of fear and confusion into words, she grabbed her jacket and left with a half mumbled excuse that she needed air. Had spent the next two days splitting her time between the Underworld and the uncomfortable leather of the couch in Persephone’s office.

“Persephone kicked me out,” she explains when Freddie presses the cold beer bottle into her waiting hands. “Said I either had to deal with my shit or start paying for my drinks.” Grace pauses to take a comforting swig of alcohol and finds that the taste makes her teeth ache. Yet another thing Calliope’s taken from her. “And instead of going home, you decided to break into my apartment?” Freddie sips gingerly at her beer as she fixes Grace with a look that says she can see through the bullshit, excuses, and lies. “Said I still had the keys.” Grace folds in draws her knees up to her chest, and settles her chin on the rough fabric of her denim-covered knees. It's all she can do to shield herself from the words that tumble from her lips. “I’m losing myself, Freddie,” she admits, her words rough and ruined by the tears that track down her cheeks. “And I’m scared.” Freddie doesn’t answer, instead wraps her in a warm embrace until Grace stops shaking and her breaths are no longer heaving, choking sobs. And Grace is thankful that, for the first time in three days, she no longer has to pretend that everything is okay. That she can finally put into words the aching, raw feeling in her chest that she’s tried so hard to drown out with whiskey. They don’t talk, don’t need to. Not that she wants to. She’s had enough of talking, of rationalizing every little thing that’s been happening to her. For the first time in three days, Grace permits herself to feel anything other than the bitter numbness she’s masked her fear with. And she drowns herself in it. It's not until hours later that she resurfaces from her grief, warm and blanket wrapped amongst the sheets of a familiar bed.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, voice roughed by lack of sleep and three days of worry. The same worry he wears in the swaths of purple beneath his eyes and the unruly stubble that creeps down his neck. “I…I…” His hand rubs the back of his head and musses the golden curls that have been reduced to snarled tangles where they hang limply over his ears. He’s nervous, she thinks, watching as he repeats the gesture before fisting his hands into the fabric of his pants. “It’s good to see you.” He leans forward to settle his hand on her bare leg, where it peeks from beneath the blankets, but she’s faster as she draws her legs back beneath them before she can feel the heat that radiates off him. She’s wearing nothing but her underwear and one of his t-shirts, which, all things considered, was a blessing because Grace was certain her clothing reeked of cigarettes, booze, and the Underworld. Apollo sighs in reply and lets his palm settle over the still-warm sheets where her legs once rested. For a moment, his eyes flutter closed like he’s a junkie, and the warmth of where she’d laid is enough to soothe his craving to touch her. But there’s an ocean between them now, more profound than the one that swells and ebbs outside the bedroom window where she’d once felt safe. And the thought of his too-large, too-warm hands on her makes Grace want to crawl out of her skin.

“How did I get here?” She sits up, greeted by their bedroom that still looks exactly as she’d left it three days ago. His shirt still haphazardly hangs across the dresser from when she’d ripped it from his shoulders and tossed it over hers, and her bra’s still tucked halfway out from beneath the chair he sits upon. Both tell her it's the first time either of them has set foot in this room since she stormed out. “Freddy called me.” Called Oracle, she thinks, cause even with her patient prodding, Apollo still balks at the idea of using the simple flip phone she bought him. She knew he’d been desperate to find her when he’d resorted to texting her himself. But that’s not enough to soothe the rage slowly creeping up to settle on her shoulders. “Gods, it… it's been three days. I thought maybe you…you’d…that…” Apollo’s voice cracks with the weight of his guilt as he looks at her with the kind of desperation that quiets her storm. Her already broken heart rents and breaks as the weight of his words settles heavily on her shoulders. He’s already failed her, Calliope, once before, again, and it would break him. Maybe it's the year spent in the company of the god of prophecies, but for a moment, she’s granted a prophecy of her own, a hazy vision of Apollo soaked in sunlight as he walks into the sea with no one around this time to save him. “Sorry,” is all she can manage to say as she sinks deeper into herself. “I meant to call.”

“Meant to call?” His visions gone golden as his anger wells up, raw and fierce. “Fuck, Grace” he growls, hands tearing through his hair, “I…I thought you were dead!” Her own anger crackles beneath her skin in response to his because all they do anymore is fight. He’s the god of the sun, golden flames lit by the festering rage between them, and she’s his muse, her passion, the kindling that he burns through. “Obviously, I’m not,” she shoots back. Suddenly the rooms too hot, too stifling, and the blankets a band of iron keeping her tethered to the bed, to him. She throws them off, throws off the crushing weight of the guilt that threatens to snap her already fragile shoulders. “Not sure why you were so worried.” “Cal…Grace,” he starts, stumbling over the name. He’s just as unsure of which face she wears as she is. Today, it's Grace, but she knows that that won’t always be true in the future. Eventually, Grace will ebb with the tide of the Veil until all that’s left is Calliope. He’s done it a hundred times before, acts like it's nothing, that she should surrender to it all without putting up a fight. But Grace? This is her first time, and she feels like she’s constantly drowning beneath the weight of the eidolon in her chest. And Apollo’s the lifeboat she can’t quite reach. “You need to talk to me,” he sighs, hands, at last, settling on her bare calves, and Grace finds the warmth of his skin is just a touch more soothing than revolting.

“Nothing to talk about,” she answers, hiding behind the mask of monosyllabic answers. “It's fine,” she adds though she knows it to be untrue. It’s become easier and cleaner to lie to him than to lean on the still-strong bond that’d formed between them, and Grace’s found that a lie was often the most straightforward answer. Cause she doesn’t want to look at him and see disappointment reflected back where once shone love and pride. He doesn’t buy it. He never buys it. Instead, Apollo wordlessly slips into the bed beside her, his too-warm body curling over hers as though he could shield her from it all. And she lets him, too worn down and exhausted to protest, when his arm settles around her waist and pulls her against the hard planes of his body. “Talk to me, Grace,” he whispers softly into the crown of her hair. “Please.” Her shoulders finally snap at the weight of his words, so tender and warm, and she begins to cry. It feels like all she’s done is cry. Like somehow she’s thrown a lifetime of emotion into the past week and has come out the end worn and raw, with only her tears left to show for it. Breaking down still feels foreign, even after a lifetime of grief condensed into the span of two years, and she folds into herself in the hope of quelling the bitter tears that track down her cheeks to pool in the cleft of her collarbones. “I don’t,” she sobs, sinking into his embrace, “I don’t know how.”

Apollo’s patient, kind as he holds her, the only sound breaking the silence between him are his soft mummers of comfort and her hiccoughing sobs. “Shh, I have you, darlin’,” he breathes softly into the skin where her neck meets her shoulders. “I have you,” he repeats, fingertips gentle as they curve over the swath of her belly from where it peeks from beneath her stolen shirt. “Don’t need to talk just yet.” She thinks of using her powers for a moment, that she might be able to put her thoughts into song than she can words. But she does need to talk. Needs to get out the words that hang heavy in her chest. “I’m scared,” she finally admits when her tears no longer strangle her words. “Apollo, I’m so scared.” Her admission is deafening, her heart pounding in her ears. She’s always been the strong one, the rock, Grace, who everyone can depend on to swoop in and save the day. Vulnerability doesn’t come easy to her, even in front of Apollo, who’s seen her stripped down to nothing so many times that she’s lost count. Apollo, who’s laid himself bare in kind, even though she’s only ever held him at arm's length when he asked her to do the same.

“Shh, Grace,” he repeats, arms tightening around her as if he could shield her from the Veil itself. “I know you’re scared, but you need to talk to me.” He shifts her gently, as though she’s made of glass, until they are face to face. It's then that she realizes he’s been crying too. “I…I called myself Calliope today,” Grace answers, suddenly ashamed that such a trivial thing’s caused an ocean sized rift between them. It's not like any of this came as a surprise. It's not like she’s had a year of Apollo’s patient tutoring to prepare her for the eventuality. But that didn’t make the fact that she was slowly slipping away any less jarring. He chuckles, though it's hollow, forced. “The first time’s always the worst.” They’re not quite touching anymore, the ocean that separates them swelling up between the gaps where their skin should be flushed and entwined. “You’ll get used to it.” But she doesn’t want to get used to it, doesn’t want to feel like a stranger in her own skin. The thought of hearing Freddie or Persephone, or Gods, even Apollo calling her Grace, and her no longer recognizing her own name made her want to puke. It made her feel like she was that last bit of pencil that hadn’t been erased yet. It was inevitable, but waiting for it to happen, Gods, that was the worst part. “How,” she challenges, her anger towards him, Calliope, and Fate itself flaring hot and scorching beneath her skin. “How do I get used to not being me?”

Apollo smiles, gentle, patient, and soft, as he brushes her dark hair from her cheek, the touch coming after what feels like a lifetime of waiting. “By letting me in, Grace,” he answers, shifting so his lips can whisper soft over her own. His hand is warm as he cups her chin and forces her to look him in the eye. And for the first time that night, she meets his cool gaze willingly. “By not doing this alone.” Grace melts into the touch, lets herself feel safe, lets the weight of the past three days slip away until she’s light as air. “I…what if you don’t love me when I’m her?” It feels strange to put it into words, the dark thought that lingers about the edges of her. It used to be a seed, tucked into the earth unseen, but it's festered, grown into vines that wrap around her wrists, ankles, and, worst of all, her heart.

She’s fed it with the doubt she pretends not to see in his eyes when they get into a fight. Feeds it with the knowledge that between him and Calliope is a lifetime of fighting and reconciliation. With the fear that no matter how hard they try, it still won’t work out in the end. That, like Calliope, she’ll be alone. “If it didn’t work before, why now? Why are we any different, Apollo?”

Apollo kisses her instead of speaking, drawing her beneath his weight with warm hands heavy on her waist. “Grace,” he murmurs, facial hair tickling her skin as he peppers kisses along the curve of her jaw. “You are kind,” he pauses to press his lips to each of her cheekbones, “and caring,” another kiss to the tip of her nose, “and braver than anyone I have ever met.” His lips are soft when they meet the skin of her forehead. “And for all her fire, Calliope could never burn away all of you.” He chuckles as he settles his full weight atop her, stunned when she lets him. “You’re too stubborn for that.” “That doesn’t mean anything,” she grumbles, too warm beneath him. Apollo, God of the Sun, burns hotter than a furnace as Grace relents and every bit of her sinks into him. “You said yourself, eventually, she’ll take over.” “And,” he answers, words muffled as he tucks his head into the crook of her shoulder, “I also said I’d be here the whole time.” His teeth are gentle where they nip at whatever bit of her bare neck he can reach. “And that this time it’d last, but you seem to have forgotten that detail.” “Apollo,” she warns when his hand slips down her side to trace the curve of her hip. “Grace,” he parrots with a smile just as dazzling as the golden rays of sunlight streaking through the curtains. “Do you want to know something?”

Grace groans and wiggles her hips until she finds a comfortable spot beneath him. Difficult considering all of Apollo’s muscled bulk dwarfed hers by about a mile. But If Apollo’s in one of his romantic moods, well, then she’d better be settled in for the long haul. “Not sure if I do,” she grouses. “Think you might want to hear this.” Apollo pauses to tangle his fingers in hers. But fuck, his hand fits perfectly over hers, impossibly warm and just a shade too large. “You know that Calliope and I always found each other, even after our eidolons passed to the next person,” he explains, thumb stroking over the matching sun rings they wore. “That even if she and I were worlds apart, our souls would always find each other again.”

“I’m not really sure what this has to do with me,” Grace interrupts, suddenly very much aware of the one-sidedness of their memories. Course, the slate would be evened out when the Veil lifted, but she still sometimes caught Apollo staring at her with an unfamiliar reverence that spoke to memories she had yet to unlock. Like the reason he always wanted to sketch her lying out naked when they’d awake in the morning after a night of making love. Or the story behind the song he’d sing softly into her hair as they dozed watching the sunset on the sand.

“Because you, Grace,” Apollo murmurs. “My sweet, kind, brave, stubborn Grace. You’re the only one who’s captured me wholly, body and soul. We won’t have to find each other because we will never be parted. Not even the Fates would be enough to take me from you.” “You’re only saying that because you’re the one who insisted we get married.” She rolls her eyes at this slip into melancholia that’s sweet enough to make her teeth ache. But her heart still swells until it's impossible full at the love that shines in his eyes as he tilts his head down to capture her lips in a tender kiss that leaves the pair of them gasping for air when they finally part. “Grace or Calliope, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.” Apollo’s gone soft, less stoic in the years since she’s met him. She knows he hates the romantic streak she’s carved into him, but it doesn’t stop the grand declarations of love he likes to wax to her at least once a day. And the longer she spends with him, she finds she doesn’t hate them, not at all. “Til the last star burns out of the sky.” “But what if it doesn’t work out,” she asks, guilt and doubt still lingering in her thoughts. Despite his assurances, she suspects it’ll be a while until they finally subside. “What if it stays the same?” “Then we’ll work through it together,” Apollo answers as, at last, Grace relaxes beneath him. “And if you still don’t believe me, I promise you that I’ll be here the whole time.” Grace smiles in earnest for the first time in three days as she finally surrenders to the joy and love that radiates off him like rays of sunlight. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[doueverwonder]

short fluffy IndiBama thing but I'm embarrassed about it under the cut (I use she/her for Indy cause I can)

Alabama had been tossing and turning for hours. He was used to humidity but it seemed worse tonight, not aided by the fact that it was still boiling even in the middle of the night, and no matter what he tried mosquitoes, flies, and heck even lightning bugs kept getting in. He had watched the minutes tick by on his alarm clock, not being able to get any sort of rest til almost two am. Even then it was barely sleep, more a weird in between, exhausted and conscious enough of the time he had to be up to 'sleep', but uncomfortable enough to stay asleep for more than a couple minutes.

Around three he sat bolt upright, the steps coming down the hallway at this hour initially scaring him. Alabama, along with the rest of the south, groaned realizing it was just Florida and Louisiana stumbling in like they did almost every weekend night. Those two really were the worst when it came to being quiet. Texas would grumble about how he was going to give them the what-for one day but it had yet to happen as he was the only one who could actually sleep through them coming in.

After ten minutes of trying to get back to sleep he finally gave up. He got up groping around in the dark before finding the basketball shorts and t-shirt he had initially gone to bed in. He put both back on, along with a pair of--probably mismatched--socks, usually he wouldn't bother but the floors of the upper floors were always so chilly even in summer. He also pulled a sweatshirt out of his closet, but tucked that under his arm, it wasn't for him. It was a peace offering for the person he was about to wake up.

He could teleport, but Gov always seemed to know when they did that and the last thing he felt like explaining was why he was up and about this late. So instead he climbed the two sets of stairs. The first landing he held his breath trying not to make any noise, not because the Northeast was easy to wake up but because New York didn't sleep. He made it past and up to the third floor, really why did the South have to be on the first floor? It just meant they had to climb more stairs than any other states.

As soon as Alabama stepped off the landing he felt better, it was still warm but less 90s and more low 70s. The humidity was bearable up here as well, still more than some places--he had got caught in Nebraska talking about how corn sweats or something like that to know why--but better then the majority of the South. He stuck his head down the hall that led to the kitchen and living room to make sure no one was up before tiptoeing down the hall where the bedrooms were.

Gladly the one he needed to get to was only the second door down the hall, he took a breath knocking lightly and praying no one else heard. He waited a long moment before knocking again, this time the door opening just a crack Indiana peering out;

"Hey sweetheart" he half whispered,

"'Bama?" she squinted, yawning "what are you doing up here?"

"I couldn't sleep, was wonderin' if I could crash here for the rest of the night" Indy very rarely got mad about much, but he had never woken her up at half past three am either. So he couldn't say he would be surprised if she told him no.

Lucky for him she just nodded, opening the door the rest of the way for him to come in. The door closed behind him, she sat down on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes. "why couldn't you sleep?"

"Too muggy in my room, and Florida and Loui woke me up" She nodded humming, wasn't the first time he had complained about those two waking him up. Alabama tossed Indiana the sweatshirt, not needing to tell her what it was for a look of pleasant surprise to cut through her still half asleep features as she pulled it on, putting the hood up immediately. He knew it would be months before he saw that sweatshirt again; Indy was the top sweatshirt thief in the statehouse, her most infamous one being a colts sweatshirt she stole from Maryland just a couple months before before actually stealing the colts all together.

She had climbed back under her quilt, patting the other side of the bed to tell him to hurry up. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it over the back of a chair and climbed in bed, turning off the lamp and flicking on the night light. The first couple times he had slept over he had thought it silly that she had a night light, the only answer he was able to get about why was a mumbled fun fact about being able to see the Chicago lights from the Indiana dunes 60 miles away. Now turning it on was basically muscle memory, even if she said he didn't have to turn it on if it bothered him.

They usually talked while falling asleep, he assumed not tonight with it being so late as is but as Indy settled into his arms she asked through another yawn "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

Despite the fact that he could already feel himself finally relaxing he responded, "Just a meeting with Gov, what 'bout you sweetheart?"

"I have to sneak my boyfriend out before Ohio, Illinois, and Michigan wake up" Alabama tried not to laugh too loudly, even though he knew she was close to dead serious. They usually didn't mind him being there... as long as they knew beforehand.

"Best savor our time together then case we oversleep and I'm dead come mornin'' Indy just pressed herself closer to him, barely nodding more or less fast asleep again.

Alabama relaxed the west of the way, really he should have just come up when he first realized he wasn't going to be able to sleep in his room. He was warm again, but this time because he was under a pile of blankets with his girlfriend in his arms. This was definitely much better then the 98% humidity.

[smolgloves]

Lending a hand: Part 2

Summary: Vex meets God's favorite princess

Tw: injury mention

“Shadowheart can mend your leg.” Gale had told Vex when he received a letter. That was three moons ago, the dread clutched onto Vex's gut with each passing moment she didn't show up, she did not sound like someone who would heal a borrower's leg. The thought of attempting to shamble away crossed Vex’s mind more than once, their only obstacle would be trying to climb down Gale's desk while injured. Perhaps now would be the best time to since Gale was more preoccupied with making sure his tower was tidy rather than them for once. They'll admit, compared to most big people, Gale was the most respectful of their boundaries, only touching up their wounds when necessary or  carrying them to the washroom. But Vex still felt sick everytime his fingers came into contact with them. 

Footfalls broke Vex of their thoughts, the familiar pace of Gale's easygoing steps stuck out first, the other steps were lighter, as if the shadows themselves were walking behind him, that must be the cleric Gale had talked about. Vex's heart pounded away in their chest, there wasn't much time to form a better plan, so Vex scrambled behind a stack of books set on the table, pressing their shaky hands to their mouth as if that would steady their breathing.

“They're in here.” Gale spoke in a soft tone. 

The footsteps stopped short of the desk and an eerie silence fell over them. For a moment, Vex wondered if their half-baked plan to hide behind the books actually stumped the two and they would leave.

“Vex?” Gale cleared his throat. “Would you mind… stepping out from the tower of books obscuring you, please?” 

As frightened as Vex was, they knew they couldn't hide behind these books forever, lest they wanted to be forcefully removed. Vex took a breath, attempting to steel their nerves before hobbling out. They couldn't bring themselves to meet her eyes, craning their neck to make eye contact made this whole thing more daunting! Vex was really at the mercy of two giants! Gods, they wished they knew this was a wizard's tower before making a home here! Maybe if Vex kept moving, they wouldn't have gotten injured and caught.

Perhaps the old childhood stories of big people being able to smell fear was true, because the woman knelt down to be more eye level with Vex, forcing them to have to look her in the eyes. The first thing Vex noticed was the long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her green eyes held a curious yet kind-hearted look when meeting theirs. Strange, for someone named Shadowheart, she sure looked a lot nicer than Vex pictured.

“My friend here says you require some healing.” 

Vex glanced down at their leg, Gale had done a nice job cleaning and mending the wound but pain surged up any time they tried to put weight on it. If they wanted to get out of here faster, they had to trust this woman to heal them. 

With a sigh, Vex propped their leg out, thick bandages covered the wound. Shadowheart reached towards Vex, gently holding their leg between her thumb and index finger. They had to suppress a shutter. No matter how nice they seemed, they were still big folk who could hurt borrowers. Any reasonable borrower would call Vex mad for this, yet they knew they didn't have much choice. 

“Te curo.” Blue light illuminated the cleric's fingers and seeped into Vex's leg, the throbbing pain beginning to wash away. Shadowheart pulled her hand back once she finished the spell, letting Vex rip off the bandages. The ugly gash that once incapacitated them had fully disappeared, only a faint scar was left behind. Vex ran their fingers across their leg, trying to find any hint of pain before they put some weight on it. Not even a slight discomfort!

“I assume my services were satisfactory.” Shadowheart said with a smug look on her face. 

“Thank you.” Vex squeaked out. 

“Glad to see you're better.” Gale chimed in. “I'm sure you can't wait to get back on your feet.” 

That was the understatement of the century.

“How did you two meet anyways?” 

A boyish grin appeared on Gale's face. “Quite a humorous turn of events if I say so…” 

As Gale rambled on, Vex kept testing out their leg. They could move on their own again and more importantly they could get the hells away from these big people! Their eyes darted around the room, taking note of how engrossed the two were in conversation. It would be risky, but Vex could probably make it to the edge of the desk without them noticing. 

They'd just have to be smart about moving.

They started off by taking small steps away from the stack of books. Seeing if either of them noticed. Shadowheart was more focused on the wizard, while Gale gave nothing more than a passing glance, he was more busy recounting every second of their first meeting to figure out Vex's plan. For all they knew, Vex was just stretching their legs, which is exactly what they wanted them to think! As they got closer to the edge, Vex slipped their hand in their pack to retrieve the grappling hook, they were surprised when Gale didn't interrogate them about the contents held within, but gods was Vex ever thankful for that, freedom was just a drop away! 

“But I believe I have spoken enough for the both of us, perhaps Vex would like to add something… Vex?” 

Color drained from Vex's face as they descended down the desk, the wind that rushed past their ears felt louder than when they normally climbed down. Looking up, Vex saw the two frowning faces of the giants staring back at them, distracting the borrower from sticking the landing. They stumbled back once their feet hit the ground, falling onto their rump with a harsh thud. 

Gale immediately crouched down to get a better look at the borrower, his hand reaching towards them. “Wait, Vex!” 

With a shriek, Vex scrambled back until their back hit the wall. To their surprise, Gale pulled his hand back, locking eyes with the fearful borrower. In a brief moment, Vex thought they saw a pained look in his large brown eyes. However that moment didn't last long as adrenaline forced them to jump up to their feet and dashed towards the bookshelf, leaving their grappling hook still hanging on the desk. They thought he would try to stop them, but they made it safely behind the bookshelf where a secret entrance lay unbeknownst to the wizard. Once behind the safety of the stone walls, Vex let out a heavy sigh, finally they were back in the world they knew. 

“Well I guess I did a real good job at healing them.” Shadowheart's voice echoed behind walls.

Gale chuckled. “I supposed you did.”

“Though I'm surprised you didn't try to stop them.” 

“I think they spent enough time around me.” Gale spoke softly. “Let them have their space, they can come by if they wish, perhaps we can catch up over some wine?” 

“Only if you break out the good wine.” Shadowheart giggled. 

“I could never sully your company by offering cheap wine!” The two shared another laugh before walking off. 

Alone in their thoughts, Vex had all the time in the world to just process everything. They could have been grabbed again, yet… Gale pulled away before he so much as brushed against them. Of course he did, he was always so nice, but that didn't mean Vex had to be around him anymore than they had to. So why did they feel bad for leaving so suddenly? 

Vex shook off those thoughts, their bleeding heart was getting the better of them, borrower code indicated that they must leave a home once they've been seen. Vex needed to prepare to move… after they ate some food and perhaps took a nap, this ordeal left them exhausted!