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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 1 month ago

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✧✦✧ Chapter 3 ✧✦✧

Hello Father, Die

Warning this part contains: Cursing, Hallucinations (Schizophrenia maybe), mentions and descriptions of a noose, Murderous and Violent thoughts, Trauma Triggers (MC's), Dark Themes(not the settings btw) and Typos&Badwriting Combo.

Note: a bit long fic that was supposed to be short, this is more of the relationship between Bruce and MC as well as a special pov from someone after this it'll be short shots with the rest of the family unless-

MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 2 , 4....➣

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↻◁ ||▷↺Sucker - Markus King (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı

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It's suffocating.......

Everything is choking me.....

Death clings to me like my own skin as I walk along the bloody trench I dig by myself.

Every hand from my past and other life reaches out and tugs onto my skin and soul begging for another chance.

but not this time.

My light at the end of this long unwinding tunnel is just beyond reach.

I won't stop until I get what I want, I won't until I get what I deserve.

As the stormy night passes by Gotham, I wake up to my new bed that Alfred prepared me last night.

I begged Alfred to let me stay near him so he gave in and fixed up a guest room near his own quarters, a good decision on my part that's for sure.

A room far away from my old bedroom and a safer one closer to Alfred, a slight change that I hope won't fuck up the reset.

Looking around I observe the barren room and walls, just a few pieces of furniture, a bed, a shelf, and a door to a medium size toilet and bathroom.

'Better get fixed up, We're hungry' they poke my back as I see a towel placed conveniently by the knob of the open bathroom door.

Nodding my head as I hummed in agreement before entering and closing the door.

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Heading out, I quickly trace back my way into the kitchen and see Alfred whipping up something on the marbled counter with a few cups and bowls scattered around yet in an organized and clean manner.

Walking up I stare at the ingredients on what I could guess would be the breakfast for the other one inhabiting this 'house'.

I see them peek out their head from the corner of the counter and poke the bowls pretending to be like a cat while words scribble at the ingredients like 'yummy' or 'bleugh-'

I stood at the ledge since I was back to being my kid size, only my eyes reaching the top of the surface and silently watching Alfred prepare, it didn't take him less than a minute to notice me but I could see him slightly tensing when he look into the corner of his eyes.

'Never the jumpiest in the family before' they say as tilt their head behind Alfred's shoulder as the word 'Jumpy' flashes at the back of the butler's form.

"Good morning, Mr. Alfred". I quietly said to him as I shifted my attention to the whirling electric mixers that were mixing the pancake batter.

"Good morning as well Young Master". He returned my greetings before turning the mixer and properly faced me.

"May I ask hold long have you been waiting there?". He wonders as he picks up the metal bowl and turns to fire up the stove.

"More than 5 minutes, I'm used to waking up early Mr. Alfred". I tell him as I observe him, hearing him hum before I continue to watch him and get lost in my daydream.

'Since I missed meeting Bruce I'd wonder when he'll pop up now' I wondered before a loud scratching record screech on my ear made me wince and the hairs on my neck stood up as I heard them whisper frantically.

'He's here! run run run run run runrunrunrunRUNRUNRUN GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY-!' They scream and yell as their voice pounded on the walls and the shadows swirl around the room I see their polished leather shoes rounding the entryway in the corner of my eye then everything vanishes by the sound of his voice.

"Alfred, Is -oh". I hear him behind me as I watch Alfred side-eye my form before moving his sight to the figure behind me who by the sound of his reaction probably notices me quickly.

"Good morning Master Bruce, Breakfast shall be done in 10 minutes but for now-". He greets him slowly moving towards me and lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I believe you have someone who needs your attention this morning". Alfred finishes -his words making us scoff in my head- as he gently turns me to look at 'him'.

'Traitor' they snarl at Aflred before hiding behind me with a swish 'His Attention? let's see how long that fucking last' they grumble as they wrap their arms around my waist.

Finally looking at him I fought within myself not to jump on his face and slap the daylights out of him-

Many things are scribbled on his face, his whole features are crudely crossed out, large and pointy horns stood above his head longer than the ones on his cowl, a large drawing of a sick grin over his mouth and crosses on his eyes as many things, horrible things floated around him like a halo yet a big fucking 'SUCKER' was written behind his head as I see 'them' perched on his shoulders tying what looks to be a large noose around his neck.

'Hello Father' they giggled before their voice venomously spit out 'Die' as they pulled the rope up and-'

Quickly blinking it away I stare back at him again not saying a thing with a light tired frown on my face, studying his face one more time as I move my eyes to his also tired ones that have a little bit of eyebags under, his wrinkled skin on his forehead and corner of the eye despite being on his younger adult version.

'Guess trauma is a motherfucker'

I look away from him and greet him quietly not wanting to look at him no more longer than a minute.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne" I whispered and stared at Alfred's pants and the marble flooring respectively.

I hear him sigh and feel him lower down to my height as I hear him reply back a greeting.

"Hello and.......who might you be?". He asks as I peek back and see him on one of his knees as he tilts his head.

"-......- " I only stare at him before whispering my name and turn away again but move as far as I can and stand by the other side of the island and hide behind.

I can hear the two adults talk behind me but I ignore them anyway and close my eyes.

'Bruce Wayne, my biological father, my real father, he........I know in myself that he was never a 'bad' father, I knew because he cares about the rest of his ward or adopted children but in all of my life has he never gone through most of those with me'

My hands tremble as I feel them wrap theirs around mine as they whisper to me 'He's a poor sucker, let him go'.

'He wasn't abusive or anything but he never was there for me, it's either he's never enough or I was never enough, All I asked of him was to love me, I never wanted to be a robin or batgirl, I never wanted to be the best, I never wanted to be anything more but his child'

'It's fine, he can kill us again if he wants to' They said as their hands cupped my face and tilted it up I saw their face clearly and their pearly white shark smile widened on their lips.

Because We're already dead inside

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Hope this ain't that dark

#No More Chances #yandere batfam #x reader #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere #yandere family x reader #yandere x neglected reader #x neglected reader #yandere batman x reader #yandere batboys #yandere batman #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere alfred pennyworth

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littleprinces · 7 months ago

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Lost Puppy

Wooah Wooyeon x M! Reader, Petplay, puppy kink, mindbreak, anal

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the house, reverberating off the walls like a haunting reminder of my frustration. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a painful reminder of the void left by my missing dog, Max. Wooyeon stood on the porch, a look of confusion and hurt etched across his face.

"How could you lose him, Wooyeon?" I yelled, tears streaming down my face. "He was everything to me! And now he's gone because of you!"

Wooyeon tried to approach me, his hands reaching out in a futile attempt to comfort. But my anger burned too brightly, a fierce inferno that pushed him away. "Don't, Wooyeon. Just go. I don't want to see you right now."

His shoulders slumped, and with one last, heart-wrenching look, he turned and walked away. The weight of my words hung heavy in the air as the realization of what I'd done settled in. Alone in the silence, I crumpled to the floor, grief and anger warring within me.

At the night someone knock my house door, I wake up and just open my door, and look Wooyeon, she is already naked with collar in her neck and give me letter "I will turn into your puppy, forgive me dear".

Then she crawl with all four and give me a chain in her neck, Pull her chain to a living room and make her bend over at the floor, I spanked her ass as her punishment, "FUUUCCKKK MASTER UHHH FORGIVE ME" as i spank her ass harder "this is your punishment little whore" i pull her hair and still spank her ass until redden in her ass cheek.

I start to unzip my pants and let my cock free, free for use my new dog, wooyeon. I holding her ass and start to thrust her anal "FUUCKK MASTER UHHH USE ME, USE YOUR DOG" wooyeon moan harder, i pound her as harder and make her mind break.

I spank her ass harder, then i play with her pussy, grab her pussy when i pound her tight ass hole. "DON'T STOP FUCK MY ASS" wooyeon moan harder and make me hornier, "How dare you to make me lost my dog, wooyeon?" I said to her

"FORGIVE ME AND JUST PET ME UHH, I WILL TURN INTO A PETGIRL FOR YOU" wooyeon scream harder, i still pound her asshole and feel want to cum. "just cum inside me master, inside your dog, break your dog" wooyeon said, as her wish I cum in her slutty ass.

"Thank you master, just give a new cage for me" she smirk.

Wooyeon from my girlfriend turn into my pet, my lovely dog.

#girl group smut #female idol smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #wooah smut #wooyeon smut

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malestransforming · 5 months ago

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Papi's Gear

Here's an older story that I have recently edited and cleaned up.

A hockey fan hopes to see his favourite player, Auston Matthews, but ends up getting closer than he could have imagined.

A crowd had already formed in the players tunnel underneath the Scotiabank Arena in downtown Toronto. The crowd buzzed excitedly, waiting for the arrival of the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team. I was anxiousing hopping from one foot to another, hoping to see my favourite player, Auston Matthews, walk by. Maybe I'd get to give him a fist bump before he jumped on the ice with the rest of the team. I tried to angle my way closer to the front of the crowd, to get a better view of the guys as they walked past. With some polite pushes, I was able to squeeze beside a wall next to the cordoned off section.

A surge of energy swept through the gathered crowd as we caught a glimpse of blue and white coming down the tunnel. The team was on their way to the ice! One by one the players walked by. They looked so handsome and masculine in their royal blue jerseys. I held out my fist for the players to pound with their gloves, hoping to make a connection with someone. Frustratingly, I was too close to a wall, and not easily seen as they walked by, so nobody noticed my fist. I was able to get a good look at each player as they walked by. Their hockey equipment was bulky and broad, making their already impressive bodies seem even bigger. As the players walked by, I caught quick whiffs of their equipment and bodies, and swallowed their scent greedily. I looked for Auston, number 34, but didn’t see him anywhere.

“Oh man. That sucks.” I said to myself.

Auston Matthews was my favourite player and one of the best players in the NHL, so it was weird not seeing him come down the tunnel with the rest of the team. I hadn’t heard anything about him being injured… It was very unusual that he wasn’t in the team line-up tonight. His skill and speed was unmatched by any player in the NHL. I’d give anything to play like him.

I was about to leave the tunnel and head to my seat when another surge of energy fired the crowd.

“Auston!” Someone yelled.

I turned, and sure enough, there he was: number 34. Auston Matthews. He was walking casually towards us but he wasn’t dressed in the Maple Leafs’ uniform. He was wearing a blue Leafs hoodie and black work-out shorts. A Maple Leafs cap was on his head, allowing his long greasy hair to be slicked back. Why wasn’t he dressed to play?

I stretched out my fist for him to bump. He looked massive up close. His thigh and leg muscles were like tree trunks. His shoulders were built and angular with strong muscle. He looked robust, tough and incredible.

“Auston!” I yelled, but deep down I knew he wasn’t going to fist bump me. I tried to get his attention my flashing the number 34 on my jersey.

“Auston!” I yelled again. But he was already walking by me. Ignored.

“Auston! Why aren’t you playing tonight? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Something I said must have clicked with him. He stopped and began to walk back towards me. I saw him scan the crowd, looking for the person that had yelled at him. The look on my face must have betrayed me because he walked towards me as soon as our eyes met. My fist was still stretched out, but instead of bumping it with his own fist, he gripped my entire hand with his own so that the palm of his hand was on my fist and knuckles. It felt warm and slightly sweaty.

“I can’t find my equipment! Can you help me look for it? He said.

I nodded. Anything for Auston Matthews! I turned and left the crowd. I didn’t know where to start looking, but I knew I had to start somewhere.

As I left the tunnel and the crowd behind, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my stomach and a warm, itchy sensation all over my skin. I tried to ignore it, but was quickly overcome by discomfort and ducked into the nearest bathroom. The room was empty, with clean white floors and large mirrors on the wall. My entire body was hot and uncomfortable. I was wearing an old and stained Maple Leafs jersey, and tore it, tossing it to the ground. My other clothes followed almost; my skin was so hot and uncomfortable that I needed to remove anything that was touching it.

I stood in the bathroom, naked, and breathing heavily. The heat and pain was dying down, and instead my skin was tingling. A wave of calm and euphoria went through my legs and arms.

Small blue dots began forming on my shoulders. They were small at first, but deepened into dimples evenly spaced on my skin. They quickly spread across, replacing my own natural pores and hair follicles and stopped just before my biceps. The skin on top of my shoulders and neck turned completely blue, and a white collar appeared from of my neck. A silver and black NHL shield popped into existence just above the white lace under my collar bone. The blue colour continued down my arms, and my skin stretched and reformed into a blue mesh-like material. A pair of white numbers formed at both of my biceps: 34. My skin seemed to shift and separate from my torso, it made me look bigger. Was I growing a jersey?

The blue mesh continued down my arms, stopping at my wrist. Two white stripes formed just above and below my elbows, and wrapped around my arms. Another white stripe formed at my waist, wrapping all around my stomach and back. I saw my nipples stretch, flatten and disappear into blue fabric. All of my chest hair fell out. The skin on my chest also stretched and wove into blue meshy fabric: a lightweight Areolite fabric made by adidas. A length of white lace snaked its way in the middle of my chest. I felt an itch along the top of my back and twisted my body to see my behind in the mirror. Letters began forming along the top half of my back on my shoulders: MATTHEWS. Two huge numbers etched their way into my skin: 34. From this angle, I could see how my back had sort of billowed out from the rest of my body with some of the jersey material hanging below my butt.

A final detail appeared in the form of a large white Toronto Maple Leafs logo forming on my front. It looked like I was wearing a jersey; a jersey that was a little too big for me, but I knew I was the jersey.

“Instead of helping Auston to look for his equipment, maybe I can be his equipment.” I thought to myself.

Whatever had started this changed seemed to agree, as more changes continued.

I felt my insides begin to twist and turn. My shoulder blades and collar bone melted and began reforming into shoulder pads. My shoulder caps grew bigger, enough to be able to protect Auston from body checks on the ice. I felt my rip cage crack and disappear, and my abdominal muscles and fat transitioned into velcro straps, protective foams and plastic. More bones cracked and transformed into other materials. It felt amazing to change from an organic being into plastic and artificial materials. The entire top half of my body ballooned and grew bigger; my previous frame was too slender and tight for Auston Matthews, he would need more comprehensive protection. The part of me that was a jersey began to fill out as the rest of my insides grew and shifted in order to fit better.

My elbows popped and disconnected from my arms. My bones fused into elbow pads: a two-piece system to protect Auston’s forearm and bicep. A soft cuff formed from my bicep muscle and arm bone and a hard cap solidified at my elbow and forearm. I used my hand to squish my new elbow: it was hollow but sturdy and protective. Elastic Velco straps formed from the muscle around my bicep and forearm. As my upper body changed fully into Auston’s equipment, I started to feel distinctly separate and different. I knew part of me was now a blue Maple Leafs sweater, another part of me were shoulder pads, and another part of me were elbow pads. I was rapidly becoming hockey equipment, and it felt good.

Glancing in the mirror, it looked like I was wearing Auston’s gear. My hands dangled from the wrists of the jersey. My bare, naked legs were holding up the top part of Auston’s gear, with my fully erect penis poking out from the bottom.

“No,” I said to myself. I didn’t want to wear Auston’s gear: I wanted to be Auston’s gear.

My hands began to enlarge; they were smaller than Auston’s hands and wouldn’t work at their current size if they were going to be his hockey gloves. Bones and muscle shifted and melted into more protective foams and plastic. My hands hollowed into hockey gloves. The tips of my fingers bubbled outwards and became more square-like. My joints became longer, enough to provide good dexterity for Auston’s own fingers. My skin turned blue and white. A large white cuff popped out of my wrist, ready to protect Auston’s wrist from slashes and pucks. The letters CCM appeared and wove out of my skin. The palm of my hands turned a pale white with a slight grippy texture in the middle. The material thinned out and stretched across the gloves. My hands were now hollow, empty hockey gloves.

At this point, I somehow ended up on the ground. I collapsed and fell backwards with a soft thud against the bathroom floor. I must have looked a slight: a human head buried in a Leafs jersey, shoulder pads and gloves. I loved it; it felt like I was returning home.

My erect penis, glistening with pre-cum, suddenly deflated and flattened. It turned grey and hard and shaped into a bulbous domed cup. It completely detached from my crotch and became Auston’s athletic cup. I chuckled as I thought about Auston positioning what used to be my penis over top of his own penis and testicles.

The bottom half changes happened almost simultaneously. My hips and thighs pushed outwards and became bigger and roomier. Everything inside deflated and disappeared, becoming yet more protective padding. I felt my pelvic bones shrink and twist as they turned into protective plastic caps. My butt cheeks dissolved and melted into nylon and foam. I couldn’t wait for Auston’s big hockey butt to slide around mine in his new hockey pants. My skin toughened and turned blue, the same shade as my torso. A single white stripe appeared on the sides of my legs as my pelvic region truly became Auston’s hockey pants. A second lace and adjustment strap popped out of my waist and crotch. Auston would use it to tighten the fit around his own waist. As my waist and pelvic area hollowed and emptied, Auston’s new athletic cup shifted and tumbled out of the pants, lying next to them on the ground.

The skin on my knees and shins turned the same blue as the rest of my body, and two more white stripes wrapped around my calves. My leg skin were hockey socks now. Under the socks, both of my knee caps disconnected from my legs and shifted into hard plastic domes. The rest of my muscle and sinew became high-density foam. Meanwhile, my shin bones cracked and groaned as they formed into rigid and ribbed plastic. My legs were now properly hockey shin guards and hockey pants.

It was clear that I was no longer a man: I was hockey equipment. Lifting my head from the ground ever so slightly, I could still see but I couldn’t move my old body freely. Obviously hockey gear wasn’t supposed to move. I knew my changes weren’t complete, however. And even though I had stopped breathing when my chest turned into Auston's shoulder pads, my sense of smell was still working. I could weirdly feel the scent of sweat and Auston's body odour in the air; it was coming from me! I stunk to high heaven, and it was all Auston's sweat.

Another hardening sensation began on my ankle bone. Despite not being connected to my feet with blood and nerves, I was still able to feel the full transformation take place. The ankle bones flattened into the rest of my foot and smoothed away into black carbon fibre. My entire foot ballooned and thickened. Lace holes appeared on the top of my foot and travelled up to my ankle and filled with a white lace. My toes fused into a strong plastic cap. A V-shaped point dropped out of the bottom of my foot and formed into white plastic. Then a narrow steel blade transitioned out of the plastic holder. My skin turned black with a few silver and red graphics etched around. The letters CCM formed on the sides of both feet. I felt the rest of my bones melt and disappear as my foot hollowed into empty hockey skates.

Almost done. I was so excited.

My scalp burned for a second as all of my hair dissolved and fell out. The skin on my head stretched and hardened into smooth blue plastic. Small holes and slits for ventilation dotted around the side of my skull and forehead. The insides melted and transitioned into more hard, high density foams. My chin separated and became a strap. My eyes and nose squished together and became curved and translucent. They relocated together to the top half of where my head used to be and became a visor attached to Auston’s new helmet. Inside my mouth, my bottom row of teeth and tongue liquified and disappeared. My top row of teeth turned soft and translucent, they flattened and hollowed out into a mouth guard. As the inside of my head was now empty and void, ready for Auston's own head to slip into, the mouth guard just flopped down to the inside of the helmet, ready for Auston to chew on between periods.

Finally, I was hockey equipment. I was Auston Matthews’ hockey equipment. I couldn’t think, feel or move anymore. It felt like a return to normal; like my old life was leading up to this moment, to be part of Auston’s body and to protect him while he played hockey in the NHL for the Toronto Maple Leafs. I was nothing but a pile of hockey equipment.

A door squeaked open and footsteps entered the room.

“There it is!” Auston yelled. “Hey guys! I found my gear.”

He gathered up the gear from the floor and hurried out of the room. Go Leafs, go!

#male tf #male transformation #male tf story #reality change #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #hockey transformation #male body transformation

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soxciety · 25 days ago

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chapter one. the recruitment summary. Song Ha-Yoon is being chased by the known loan shark, Mr Kim, when an unknown man comes to her rescue with an odd question.

word count. 1194

contents

"Hey kid, where's my money?" A man's voice abruptly yelled, breaking Ha-Yoon out of her thoughts. Ha-Yoon peered behind her to see Mr Kim, a loan shark to whom her parents owed a large sum of money, specifically 1 billion won. Ha-Yoon's eyes widened as she took off running. Mr Kim and his men right behind her.

Ha-Yoon sped past the market stalls, her pulse pounding in her chest and her eyes wild as she searched for a way to lose them and avoid a potential bruising. She could hear their footsteps getting closer and closer, their wild yells as they sought to catch up, "just stop running kid, it's no use, we'll get you one way or another". This simply motivates Ha-Yoon to run faster, despite the fact that her side cramp continues to get worse. Her gaze fixed on an alleyway in the distance, deciding to hide there.

Ha-Yoon comes to a halt abruptly, her feet slipping on the wet streets produced by the heavy rain. The girl goes into the alley and hides behind some dumpsters. Mr Kim and his men enter the Alley only a few seconds after her. He turns to face his men with an angry expression. "Where is she?" he forcefully asks. Mr Kim's men turn to face each other and shrug. Mr Kim shakes his head, "Useless, you're both useless," he says. He pushed through them and stormed away, mumbling insults under his breath, his men following him.

After a few minutes of catching her breath and calming down, Ha-Yoon decides to get up and leave the alleyway. As she prepares to go, someone grabs her roughly and shoves her against the alley wall. Ha-Yoon's eyes widened as her breathing quickened. It was Mr Kim.

"Nowhere to run now." One of Mr Kim's guys smirks.

Ha-Yoon's panic grows as Mr Kim shouts at her, "Your parents promised I'd have my money today; it's today, where is it?"

"I-I don't know" Ha-Yoon whimpers in dread, tears welling up in her eyes and her mouth becoming increasingly dry. Mr Kim smirks, "Well, you and your parents knew the consequences" He raises his arm to punch her, Ha-Yoon flinches and closes her eyes, prepared for the impact, when a new voice interrupts Mr Kim.

"Hey what are you doing, leave the kid alone"

They all turn their heads to look at where the voice came from. A tall man around 6 feet is standing at the entrance of the alley with a relaxed and polite smile. Ha-Yoon looks down and sees that he's holding a briefcase. He starts to advance towards them, Mr Kim roughly shoving Ha-Yoon on the floor as he turns towards the man. Ha-Yoon gasped as she fell, not expecting him to let her go. The girl puts her knees up to her chest and puts her head on top of her knees. She can hear Mr Kim talking to the tall man but it's all muffled due to the ringing in her ears.

After a few moments, she notices black business shoes approaching her. Ha-Yoon lifts her head to find the tall guy in front of her with a hand extended towards her; she accepts the hand, and the man helps her stand up, Ha-Yoon stumbling.

He smiles at her, "You seem upset, would you like to play a game with me?" He asks, and Ha-Yoon scoffs. "No thank you, I need to get home." She turns away from him and is about to exit the alley, but he says something that stops her. "You can win money." Ha-Yoon swings back to gaze at him, that smile still pasted on his face, " how much?" she asks.

"100,000 won" The girl pauses there for a moment, thinking about how it could help her parents pay off their debt and get Mr Kim off her back. "Okay, I'll play," she says as she walks back towards him. The man's smile widened as he bent down to open the briefcase, revealing heaps of cash and two envelopes, one red and one blue. He stands back up and asks Ha-Yoon, "Red or Blue?" Ha-Yoon examines the two envelopes and decides on "Red" as she takes it from him.

"Ddakji, I assume you've played before," he says. Ha-Yoon nods. "Great, play ddakji with me, everytime you win I'll give you 100,000 won, however everytime I win you must give me 100,000 won." Ha-Yoon's eyes widened; "Uhm, I don't have any money." "Then you can pay with something else, your body." Ha-yoon walks aside with a disgusted expression. "Not like that, I'll slap you." She takes a deep breath and nods. "Okay.

He places the blue envelope onto the floor and steps back nodding at Ha-Yoon, she gulps and slams the envelope onto the blue one effectively flipping it over. She smiles and eagerly turns towards the man with her palm out waiting for the money. He smiles and claps "well done, you've done it." He hands her the money and she quickly shoves it into her pocket.

"Can we play again?" She asks and he nods, picking up his envelope, he gestures for her to step back. When she does he raises his arm and slams the envelope down and also successfully flips the other over. Ha-Yoon sighs and turns towards the man who had already raised his arm about to slap her, "Please don't do it"- he interrupts her with a slap "hard". She rubs her cheek "That hurt" she whimpers and turns towards the man, the smile still plastered on his face.

They ended up playing 3 more rounds and 5 in total, Ha-Yoon successfully getting 300,000 won but also getting another harsh slap to the face.

"You can earn more money while playing games like this for a couple of days," the man says while pulling out a business card from his blazer pocket "please consider joining, just call the number on the back." Ha-Yoon reaches out and grabs the card. Her eyes looked at it. A brown card with 3 shapes on it, a circle, triangle and a square. She flips it over reading the number on the back, 8650 4006, she looks up to say something to the man only to realize he's gone.

She goes to the entrance of the alley to see if she could see anything but could only see the busy streets of Seoul. She looked down at the card, sighing contemplating whether or not she should ring the number. She could really do with the money so she can pay off her parents' debt.

After a few moments she pulled out her phone and dialled the number on the back, the phone rang a couple times before someone picked up, it was silent on the other end. Ha-Yoon swallowed the lump in her throat before deciding to speak, "Hello...?" still silent, "Uhm, you gave me the card and told me to ring the number if I wanted to play more games for money." After what felt like hours some on the other end spoke "If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate."

"Ha-Yoon Song, October 15th, 2007"

#squid game x oc #the salesman #squid game x teen!oc #squid game #platonic #squid game platonic #player 333 #player 456 #player001 #player 222 #player 124 #platonic squid game #junhee #joyuri #jo-Yuri #myunggi #myung gi #kdrama x oc #hyunju

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c0la-queen · 10 months ago

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Still | Tord x Reader

Had this one in my files for a bit, so I figured I'd post it for you guys!

Warning: Angst? Kind of? Tord has childhood trauma, he was a child soldier in my timeline, get this poor man some therapy

Words: 1k

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It was too quiet.

Fuck, it was way too quiet.

There was no sound that could drown out the sound of your beating heart, pounding rapidly in your chest as your dreams slipped away from your memories.

Night terrors were the worst.

They always felt so real, so horrifying, so deadly.

You never remembered what they were about. When you inevitably woke up in the morning, the events that plagued your dreams always disappeared in a matter of seconds. Like mist escaping your hands no matter how tightly you grasped.

The only thing left in the end was the fear.

The paranoia.

It was worse when you woke up at night.

In the darkness, there was no banishing your fears. There was no sunlight to chase away the monsters. No sounds of the boys bustling about in the kitchen, starting their days. No sound of Edd cooking breakfast, Tom yelling at Matt to hurry up in the bathroom while Matt blared his upbeat morning music playlist to get him hyped for work, not a care in the world while he did his skincare. It was just… silence.

But you had one saving grace. One hope to calm your frayed nerves.

One person that you knew would be awake.

The hallway didn't ease your paranoia at all. The shadows crawled along the walls, reaching towards you like they were going to swallow you up. Shapes and figures loomed just beyond the light, waiting to lure you in. At least, that's what it felt like.

You shook your head to banish the thoughts of monsters and shadows. There was nothing there, you told yourself. Nothing there.

Your steps hesitated when you reached the door beside yours.

The lights were off.

The lights were never off.

Was he asleep this time? Did he change his mind about the offer he made you? Did he decide to abandon you, leave you to become a victim to the horrors waiting for her in her dreams?

Your breathing wavered as you brought your hand up to the door. Should you knock? Should you wake him up and risk making him grumpy? Or should you abort the mission, head back to your room with your tail between your legs and waste the midnight hours away by doom scrolling on your phone?

Anxiety eventually won out, and you knocked gently on the wood.

For a minute or two, there was nothing. Silence. You hated silence.

But then, there was shuffling. A groan and something hissed in a different language - you recognized it as a swear.

The door opened.

Tord looked like shit.

He was in a t-shirt and boxers despite the autumn chill. His hair was a mess, sticking up in various places. His skin was pale (paler than normal), with dark circles under his eyes. A thin sheen of sweat cloaked his skin. His sharp silver eyes were dulled, clouded over with sleep. A lazy storm churning in the sky in the hours before the rain fell.

This was such a bad idea.

An apology was on the tip of your tongue, starting to turn away from his door, but he stopped you. Put his hand around your wrist and gently tugged you towards him.

Don't be silly. Come inside.

Maybe this wasn't the worst idea.

It was one of those nights. The nights when midnight hits and the house is still but Tord remains unable to sleep. Unlike usual, he isn't alone. His too quiet room is filled with her presence. Her even breathing keeps the thoughts from his head. He could feel her arm pressed against the side of his leg. She was there. Somewhere. He was not alone.

Her whispers broke the silence. He'd never complain. She wanted to know if he was awake. He couldn't push the words out from his mouth. So instead, his hand found her calf next to his torso. His heart pumped faster when he felt the shiver through her body.

Silence. She wasn't sure. He moved his fingers, letting her know he heard her. He was awake. He was alive.

She spoke again. The softness in her voice made his chest ache. Since when could voices be so soft? She couldn't sleep either. Something about the stillness was unnerving. For her, it was anxiety. Paranoia, as she'd say- she always did have a knack for invalidating her own feelings. He wasn't so lucky. His hatred for still nights couldn't be medicated away. It was trained into him. Survival instincts that had been coded into him when he was young. Too young.

He closed his eyes tightly. Almost perfectly he could picture that forest. Frost on the trees, frozen ground underneath. A deadly chill in the air that slowly seeped into every fiber of his bones. The beautiful night sky a deception to the danger in each corner. If he focused, slowed his breathing, he could hear the footsteps of the lynx that had been hunting him for the past 5 hours. How many miles had it been following him for? Why was it toying with him instead of sinking its teeth into his flesh?

He went too far into his memories. Felt the claws tearing through his clothes, ripping into the skin of his back. Felt the pain course into his body, too hot and too cold all at the same time. Heard the gunshot echo through the clearing and felt the dead weight drop on top of him. He could hear his father's words as he was brought to the medics; You let your guard down, Sønn. Jeg er skuffet over deg.

A hand moved on top of his, squeezing his fingers gently. The pressure was enough to bring him back from the forest. Bring him in from the cold. To her. To the warmth of home.

His back throbbed, the claw shaped scars along his spine all too fresh in his mind.

She whispered his name. Small. Tired. Vulnerable. Searching for comfort. Searching for him.

He squeezed back. Letting her know that he was right there.

She was not facing the stillness alone.

And neither was he.

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tord #eddsworld tord x reader

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qrosewinter · 1 year ago

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Toxic

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Description :Part 1 - Part 2- part 3..To be continued.

Summery: Where a girl from New Zealand goes to brooklyn to live with her Auntie and Uncle, mets a brooklyn boy with secrets and a voice like honey with pretty hazel green eyes.

Where a brooklyn boy mets a girl from New Zealand with an accent he's never heard before, who he can't seem to forget.

The start of the most unlikely relationship between two people starts to bloom, between a brooklyn boy who's just a little misunderstood.

And a Polynesian girl struggling to find who she is in the concrete jungle of NYC so far from home.

Will this relationship bloom or stay untouched? Maybe we should let fate take the lead for this one.

Fic summary: slow burn, obvious to flirting, a little bit of angst, romance, revenge, anger.

WARNINGS ⚠️: Horrible attempts at slang, Horrible attempts at Spanish, Swearing, Weapons, Gore, Drugs, Alcohol, Mature themes, Spelling mistakes.

Be warned terrible attempt at slang for miles and Spanish, but we do be trying 🥲, this is literally my first time at trying out writing a fic and trying to finsh it too, so feed back would be nice and any ideas you may have ill take into consideration too!

Also I will be leaving little hints on what the chapters are about using small poems or quotes, so be sure to read those. It'll be a little insider on what (Y/N)'s past maybe even about Miles too, and even a little hint on what the chapter could potentially bring in the future 👀

chapter 1: Bumpin' into a stanger.

"Two souls don't find each other by simple accident" -Unknown

"Ion want to hurt you ma" he said to me his forearm against the wall next to my head as he caged me between him and the wall.

But I couldn't make out his face, it was to dark on this street, the nearest street light was to far away to give me even a slightest glimpse his face hidden in the shadows.

The only thing I could make out where his lips. They looked so soft and plump.

"Who said I'd let you?" I couldn't help but fire back as my heart pounded in my chest, and I was sure if he leaned in any closer he'd hear it.

He chuckled softly, the sound like liqud honey, but also slightly deep and so undeniably fucking attractive "you ain't got no idea who I am, do you mamas?"

"What?" I said confused, my head tilted back to look up at him even though I couldn't see his face. my hands felt sweaty and clamy as I rubbed them against my upper thighs against my jeans to wipe it away.

He kissed his teeth as he huffed a little amused "Fuck, Chica" he said smoothly his voice touched by an accent.

Spanish, I think? I wasn't sure, couldn't bring myself to pay attention, now with how he moved just a little closer, now pressed up against me.

And jesus, did that voice have my knees weak and threatening to give out under me.

"qué me estás haciendo" he mumbled leaning in closer to me and my pluse quickened my breath hitching as his lips got closer to mine.

I held my breath as his lips brushed against-

"Y/N GET THE FUCK UP YOUR GONNA BE LATE" a voice yelled, snapping me out of my dream.

My eyes shot open in fright, I shot up in bed but well ended up tangled in my sheets and tumbled out of the bed "Fuck!" I cursed as I hit the ground and I groaned.

"Well what are you waiting for young lady, get up. ka tohe koe i tenei reiti." Came my Auntie Lily's voice from the kitchen as she grumbled to herself.

My Auntie Lily's like me, she's from new Zealand too, but ended up moving to brooklyn after she met my uncle and fell in love with him.

My auntie lily has beautiful long black wavey hair hair that stops mid back, light brown skin, and dark brown eyes. And still even in her mid-thirtys she's still very beautiful.

I heard the sound of shuffling feet filled the apartment of everyone wide awake and getting ready for the Day.

I groaned from where I lay on the floor in a tangle of blankets my cheek squished against the carpet, I lay there for a few minutes before I pushed myself up and untangled myself from the blankets.

"Fuckin' mornings" I grumbled under my breath as I sluggishly made my way to the bathroom I was thankful I had in the bedroom my Auntie let my have.

The room was still plain and empty of decorations seeing as I only just got to America two days ago, and well its only been two days since I've been in new york, so I was still getting used to things here.

I made it into my bathroom and sighed running a hand through my messy hair and looked up in the bathroom mirror and grimaced a little, because well I'd seen better days for sure.

I had dark bags under my eyes, my skin looked a little oily and kinda dry in some places as I rubbed my finger tips over my skin to get a better feel, seeing as I didn't get to do my skincare before I left to get on a plane here to New York, and well fuck the 16 hour flight I had to take here and the stuffy plane filled with assholes.

And well having to get used to an 18 hour time difference was hard too, but slowly and surely I was getting used to it but not as fast as I needed too seeing as I had only been here for about two weeks.

I thought rolling my eyes to myself, then I glanced at my piercings I had and hummed in thought, thinking of the last time I cleaned them.

I had a septum piercing nothing fancy just a sliver one, then snake bites on both sides of my bottom lip and yet again nothing fancy just plain old silver seeing as I could never get the right lip rings for them, either to big, to small or just not comfortable, course I had a tongue piercing but that was just an impulse decision to get it, a plain old sliver bar with red and white stripped balls on each end.

And finally I had both my first and second lobes pierced, for my first lobe it was just a plain old sliver hoop with safety-pins hanging from them, because I remembered reading somewhere that they meant something like being a trusting person always here to listen and help so I thought why not and added them, then for the second lobe was a sliver stud shaped like a small Angel wing with a little white crystal in the center, a gift from auntie Lily for my 18th last year.

And I grimaced as I ran a hand through my hair, it felt greasy and sweaty seeing as I didn't get to wash it for the past few days being tired and trying to adjust to being in such a new place, and well it didn't look any better either and was in some need of some good TLC.

With a slow deep sigh I turned on the shower to warm leaving it to warm up as I walled into my room over to my drawers to get some clothes and underwear.

I pulled out a fair of black cargos, and a black halter crop top I had cause it was right there and I didn't want to go digging for any other shirt feeling to lazily to look for something different.

I pulled out a pair of black ankle socks and threw them on my bed to put on after my shower, then a plain pair of black panties and a bra to match nothing fancy, along with throwing a black oversized varsity jacket I had with red accents on it, onto my bed too.

Before I moved off to the bathroom with my clothes to wash up, and get my day started even though I wanted to crawl into bed and die.

(About 30 minutes later)

I walked out of my bathroom feeling fresh and brand knew after washing up, doing my skincare, and putting some products in my hair and clipping it back in a messyish bun to keep my damp hair out of my face, but still I had a few stray hairs framing my face and curling gently against my cheek.

I slipped my socks on then my old warn black Nikes with white accents, i so happened to buy myself back home after going on a day out with my sisters, I'm our small town, cause why not and I needed some new shoes and by looking at these ones I'd need to get some new shoes later on too.

I quickly swiped on some of my vanilla oil perfume putting some just below my ears, then my collarbones and then finally my wrists before setting it down, slipping on my jacket then my cross body bay I got on sale it was a small black Nike cross body bag with about four different pockets.

the one right on the front of the bag had about three different lip balms in it, the one right on the back and some cash and my credit card in it, and on the inside it had my portable charger and a small charger cord in it for both my phone and well my earbuds, the other little pocket didn't really have much in it on the inside just my apartment keys and some lose change I had.

I didn't forget to slip my phone into my back pocket while putting my JBL earbuds in my bag too after taking the earbuds out of the case.

Bought them myself when they were on sale, cause I had a Job back home, made decent money too, got paid 25 an hour just to clean some rooms on the weekend or even ever school was out, I always put half of what I had away in my savings and the rest I kept for myself to spend on what I wanted or needed.

And as I walked out of my room I swiped on some coconut lip bam cause my lips felt dry, as I started to walk for the door, after shoving it back into the front pocket of my bag.

"I'm off! Bye Auntie!" I called out to my Auntie as I slipped out the door.

"Bye have a good day!" I heard her call out after me as I slipped out the door, putting my ear buds in my ears, and tapping the side of the right one once to press play as the song 'Baby by me by 50 cent and Ne-yo' filled my ears as I walked down the apartment hallway.

down the stairs and then finally the apartment building and down the street to get my schedule from the new school I was starting in a few days, but first I was having a little meeting with the principal so he could show me around first.

~Have a baby, have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire, have a baby by me, baby be a millionaire, have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire, be a millionaire, be a, be a millionaire~

I hummed along under my breath as I walked down the street hands in my jacket pockets as I walked, bobbing my head a little to the beat of the music as it played in my ears blocking out the sounds of the city around me.

Taking in the sights around me cause I haven't actually stopped to take the time too really look at everything, all I really knew what this was Brooklyn, a little run down but still in its own way beautiful, graffiti here and there on the sides of buildings, a few old looking stores, people going about there day, and well a few shady people lurking around alleyways, but I knew better then to look at them so I didn't.

But the people here had spirit for sure, I could here the mix of New York/ Brooklyn slang, home cooked meals being made, the sounds of people taking even over the sound of music in my ears, the mix of American and Latin culture being thrown around with Spanish too, a language I didn't quite understand but was still beautiful nonetheless, the beautiful blends of skin tones ranging from dark mahogany skin to light skinned brown with a few pale skin tones and tanned.

~Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire, have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire, have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire, be a millionaire, be a, be a millionaire~

I stopped at a crossing as I pulled a hand from my pocket to press the button on the pole to the traffic lights before stuffing it back in my pocket, waiting for the red light to turn green.

~I don't play no games (I don't play no games, so when I'm in that thang (when I'm in that thang), come see what I mean (see what I mean), see what I mean, ow (See what I mean)~

Once the light turned green I walked across the crossing with a few others, dodging out of the way of people almost brushing against me cause they weren't looking where they were going and I did not want them touching me.

Personal preference really, I wasn't overly fond of being touched. Never been an overly touchy person either, hug's definitely weren't my thing unless I was close enough to you to be comfortable hugging you. Then again it took me nearly four to five years being comfortable to hug my own friends back home. But like I said it was personal preference.

I kept walking feeling glad I had gone with my Auntie when she had first signed me up for my new school, and that new school was brooklyns Visions Academy I was lucky enough to get into. I know you've got to be well really smart to get in and I wasn't exactly the smartest, but they started up an art program I managed to get a scholarship for to be able to join the school I think so far I was one part of the first ten students to get the art program school.

But most of all I was glad I went with her on that car ride to the school because I was so anxious and paranoid I was gonna forget the way to school, that I had before hand set up the directions on my phone incase I did forget the way there, or maybe I was just overthinking making myself anxious and paranoid.

And I had tried my hardest to memorise the way there and back home too....yeah I'm definitely just overthinking again, a very bad habit of mine I couldn't shake off.

~Said lil' mama put me on (baby put me on), bet I'll have you gone (bet I'll have you gone), come see what I mean ( see what I mean), see what I mean (see what I mean), come see what I mean, come on~

I walked down two more streets before turning a corner and spotting the school up a head with students lingering outside or making there way into the school as I walked up to it.

I took a deep breath in and tried to shake off my social anxiety as I got nearer to the stairs leading up to the school.

"That's a lot of people outside" I muttered to myself, but I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the lingering feeling of anxiety prickly at my skin.

I made it up to the stairs of the school and walking up them and passed people as I walked through the school doors ignoring there stares, and if there where whispers I was glad I couldn't hear them over the music in my ears blocking out all noise, forcing myself to focus on the music then the stares burning themselves into my back as I clenched my fists in the pockets of my jacket.

~first it's her neck, yeah then her back, yeah I'm a freak, I get into all that, girl I perform for ya, like a porno star, 'til you had enough, then I just need a little bit more~

I was lost in thought and the music playing its up beat tune in my ears a much needed distraction from my anxiety as I hummed along lowly under my breath as I looked down at my feet as I shuffled down the schools hallway to the principals office, having memorised the way there the first time I was here.

Weaving through people and trying my damn hardest not to bump into anyone, or get in anyone's way as I slid past a group of people just standing in the hallway talking to each other, a group of girls not really caring they where in the way of others getting to there lockers and trying there hardest to balance books in there arms as they headed to class a little early .

And seeing as I wasn't looking up or paying much attention being to busy daydreaming as I weaved through and around people, I manged to walk into someone, bumping into a hard chest.

'Good job (Y\L), did the one thing you were literally trying not to do'

And I winched in embrassment as I pulled away tugging an earbud from my ear and shoving it in my pocket "Shit I'm so sorry" I apologised to the person infront of me I had just walked into.

~I don't play no games (I don't play no games), so when I'm in that thang (when I'm in that thang), come see what I mean (see what I mean), see what I mean, ow (See what I mean)~

~Said lil' mama put me on (baby put me on), bet I'll have you gone (bet I'll have you gone), come see what I mean ( see what I mean), see what I mean (see what I mean), come see what I mean, come see what i mean~

I glanced up to see who I bumped into, another apology on my tongue, but it died when I got a look at the guy infront of me, but that felt wrong to call him a guy or even a boy, cause he looked like a man and held himself like one too, like someone who had to grow up just a little to fast making him so much more mature for his age then others.

He had dark skin but not to dark skin it was like the perfect mix between milk chocolate and dark chocolate somewhere just in between, he had barely noticeable freckles I could only just see being so close to him dotting his nose bridge and cheeks, his features where soft yet sharp in some places making him look more mature then he should for his age but he still had that soft boyish look under the stoic expression on his face, his lips looked soft and plump if not just a tiny bit chapped.

His hair which looked like he had 4B textured hair in dense coils was braided back, in two braids down the back of his head and only just brushing past his shoulders, a hairstyle that suited him but I could tell by the way his hair was just slightly frizzy and looking like his hair may have grown out just a bit, he was in need of a touch up.

he was taller then me thats for sure, I was 5ft6 and he looked around 6ft something and towered over me so I really had to tilt my head back to look at him, sure I wasn't exactly tall, but it was clear he got his tall genes from maybe his father? Or even his mother, but I wouldn't know, this was literally the first time I'd ever met him.

But what really got my attention was his eyes, they were a Hazel colour with hints of green in them but one eye his left had more green in it then the other did, but it was very subtle unless you where up close to him. His eyes reminded me of a forest the brown of the tree trunks with the green of the leaves or even moss, reminding me a little bit of home.

And for a moment I felt just a little ping of something I couldn't identify, maybe homesickness? Or maybe just missing the vast green of the forests, mountains and trees I was used to seeing. Compared to the concrete jungle that was NYC so vastly different.

He had on the Visions Academy uniform, his tie was hanging loosely from his neck like he just loosened it or just didn't bother to really out it on properly, the sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows his school jacket nowhere in sight probably in his bag or even in his dorm, the dark navy blue trousers that went with the uniform fitting him quite well too.

Expect his shoes were Nike airs purple and white with black accents, that well made him stand out a little. But even then his school uniform didn't hide the fact he was lean, not just hard muscle, not lean enough to show he was always busy physically in the way of going to the gym or even maybe another kind of activity just as physical for him to keep his figure just right, not to much muscle, but not quite just skinny being just bones and all, it was a perfect balance in between the both of them.

"It's aight ma, don't sweat it" he said, his voice was deep but not to deep, and the way his words rolled off his tongue like honey and a hint of an accent I couldn't really place at the moment with music still playing in my ear, and the noise of students walking around us.

He had a hand on my waist having set it there when I had bumped into him, a reflex probably to make sure either he didn't fall over or to make sure I didn't ass over either.

His hand on the bare skin of my waist peeking out just under my crop top, his hands felt rough calloused just enough so it was clear he did hands on physical work but not to rough to the point it felt like the skin on his palms were gonna scratch my skin, it was a strangely pleasant feeling feeling the rough skin on my own.

And for a moment that threw me off, I hadn't ever liked someone's touch before, not even my own mothers. So for the fact I didn't mind his touch, that this feeling wasn't like the usual feeling I got when someone touched me. That it didn't feel like my skin was crawling and making me physically uncomfortable....was strange, so very, very strange to me.

I blinked a little in surprise, 'Ma? Well that's a new one' I thought to myself before I shook it off and cleared my throat stepping back away from him shoving my hands back in my pockets.

"Sorry again, I should have paid more attention" I said to the mystery man in front of me with a small awkwardly apologetic smile.

'Jesus I feel fucking awkward as hell right now, get a grip (Y/N) stop being a little bitch'

"Mm, ain't nothin' ma, just look where you goin' next time" He sounding almost a little amused, but if he was I couldn't tell over the rising anxiousness and awkwardness as he looked down at me as he seemingly shurgged off the situation, his hand fell from my waist dropping back to his side.

"Uh yeah, I'll remember that" I said a little awkwardly cause well I wasn't a people person and clearly didn't get out much to be standing here trying to have a normal conversation.

"Well I better get going, have a good day, and sorry again for bumping into you" I said to him automatically falling into a more polite tone, one that had been drilled into me for years back home by my parents, family and everyone I basically knew.To always been polite unless given a reason not to be polite to them, just like I was told to be respectful, until they didn't have the right to earn such respect for me if they couldn't give it back in return.

AI stepped away with a small smile and a nod to the man I bumped into as I started to walk away.

"See you 'round ma" he called out to me as he watched me leave, as I continued to walk down the hallway to the principals office, taking my earbuds from my pocket and shoving it back in my ear as I walked just a little faster away from him, feeling so goddamned embarrassed and awkward.

(Miles's POV)

Miles watched as the girl who had bumped onto him apologised one last time so politely making him almost, almost crack a genuine smile for the first time in along while, even told him to have a good day before she left and he couldn't help but be amused by that.

And a small smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her walk away, his eyes trailing over her from her hair clearly damp from a shower clipped back messily to the clothes she wore.

Black varsity jacket with red accents on the collar and chuffs of the sleeves, black cargos that hugged her lower body just right, he paused for a moment to look at her ass, as she walked, and yeah those cargo's definitely hugged her just right.

She had an accent too, one he didn't recognise, but it sounded like a mix of two completely different accents that seemed to blend so easily together when she spoke, her voice wasn't like the other girls voices in this school.

Coming out a tad soft and like honey when words fell from her pierced lips and slightly high pitched from embarrassment and being a tad awkward.

But what he noticed the most was how when she spoke her two uniquely blended accents just come out more pronounced with certain words as she spoke, sometimes sounding more like the other the blended together.

But it was clear she wasn't from Brooklyn not with that accent and the way she acted either, but the biggest give away was how jetlagged she still looked, along with her features that looked unique, unique in the way that showed where ever she was from she was a perfect blend of two cultures, and that was enough for him to know she was new to his city.

She was also not bad looking either, she had pretty (E/C) eyes, a pretty little body too softly curved in the right places. He remembered too how soft her skin felt against his rough palm, the tingling feeling it left behind on his palm from were his hand had been on her waist.and unconsciously he clenched and unclenched the hand that had touched her soft skin.

But he also remembered the smell of her perfume once he got a whif of it when she had been just inches from him, it smelt like vanilla and something softer, something sweet kinda like marshmallows. it wasnt strong like most perfumes that stung his nose and over powering his nose with the harsh smell of someone drowning themselves in there perfume. it was soft and subtle, Not over powering the soft scent of coconut sticking to her skin mixing in so well with the vanilla.

Miles turned around and walked off to his Spanish class his backpack slung lazily over his shoulder "Interesting" he muttered to himself under his breath as he kept walking, a barely visible smirk on his lips as he walked shoving his hands in his pockets, as he lazily strolled to class.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Next chapter

Hope you enjoyed that let me know of there's any spelling mistakes 🙃

Translations: qué me estás haciendo = What are you doing to me?

ka tohe koe i tenei reiti = Your gonna be late at this rate

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #miles g morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #prowler miles #Spotify

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itsnotzka · 10 months ago

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Why, hello! Okay, I needed a break from other things, so I decided to finish this thingy. Nobody stopped me, so there you have it, haha ;)

Insomniac neighbors AU (:D) Comedy of sort? Who knows.

Jake/MC, and Richy (mentioned),

warnings: none, I think

little over 3k words.

Read below or on Ao3.

Quiet was the night.

The faint murmurs of the city seeped through the open window, blending seamlessly with the gentle hum of his computer. The soft glow emanating from the screen delicately illuminated the room without overpowering the senses.

Outside, the city was sleeping. He sat alone, relishing in the tranquility around him. With a soft exhale, he allowed his eyelids to drift shut, surrendering to the serene stillness. A perfect way to spend the sleepless night.

His bliss did not last long, though.

The tranquility he had just savored shattered like fragile glass as a series of loud thumps resounded from the apartment above, rudely intruding upon his peace. Rhythmic. Regular. Purposeful. It was as if someone—or something—was relentlessly pounding against the wall.

With a frustrated click of his tongue, he glanced upward, his thoughts already swirling with annoyance. This wasn't the first time, oh no. It was the third consecutive night of such disturbances. Three damn nights in a row, his sanctuary invaded by these unwelcomed noises. And, as the noise persisted, irritation simmered within him, threatening to boil over.

Because the nights, the nights were meant to be his and his alone.

He closed his eyes once more in a futile effort to block out the noise. Yet, the relentless thumping persisted, refusing to be ignored.

Fine. Enough was enough.

With a sudden jolt, he stood up, the chair he had been sitting on spinning and nearly tipping over as he strode purposefully toward the door. He paid little heed to the possibility of disturbing his neighbors' intimate moments. Ready to demand they screw their bed to the wall, or simply screw each other elsewhere, he stepped into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Without any hesitation, he began climbing the stairs two at a time. Before he could even start second-guessing his decision, he found himself knocking firmly on the door of the apartment directly above his own.

The thumping stopped immediately. For a brief moment, there was silence, then the sound of footsteps approaching.

Just as the door began to creak open, he wasted no time in venting his frustration. "Finally! I don't know if you even realize, but it's the fucking middle of the night and—oh, shit."

A step backward was his immediate reaction upon seeing the woman before him. It wasn't just the anger etched in her eyes, nor the furrowed brows and crossed arms that silenced him. No, it was the startling sight of her—all covered in red stains. From her shirt to her hands, even her face, she resembled a character straight out of a slasher movie. And when she casually wiped her sweaty forehead, leaving behind a conspicuous streak of crimson, his shock only deepened.

"Uh-huh. It's the middle of the night. And?" she sighed, seemingly unfazed by her unsettling appearance. "Do you need something? You're the one standing in my doorway, yelling."

“What the h–hell…” Stupefied, he could only manage a dumbfounded gesture, pointing incredulously at her with both of his hands, his eyes widening.

Her frown deepened at his reaction, but it was only after a moment that she glanced down at herself and her hands, noticing the streaks of red. With an amused scoff and a roll of her eyes, she dismissed his alarm.

"Oh. It's paint, genius. I'm painting," she casually fixed a lone strand of hair that had fallen onto her forehead with her fingers stained red. "If I were a murderer, I'd be more careful. Don’t you think?"

His breath caught in his throat as he registered her words, a wave of relief washing over him.

"Well, I suppose I'd rather confront a murderer, then!" he retorted, his voice regaining its composure. "At least I wouldn't have to deal with the constant banging on the walls at night, it seems. What the hell are you even doing?"

"I already told you, I'm painting," she shot back, her narrowed eyes fixing him with a glare. "And, excuse me, but aren't you that loud guy living in the apartment under me? The one who slams his doors no matter what, and always blocks my bike with his?"

"Am I? Well, maybe because your pretty urban bike with that ridiculously huge basket always takes up two spaces, mine included," he countered. "Learn to park, maniac. It’s not that hard! And keep it down! I’m trying to work!"

The young woman's laughter echoed through the hallway, genuine and hearty. "Unbelievable. And what are you doing at night that my painting bothers you so much, huh?"

"None of your fucking business what I do," he barked, jabbing an accusatory finger in her direction. "It's quiet hours, so either you stop banging on the walls or I'll report you. And then your bike!"

"Damn asshole," she hissed, her grip tightening on the door handle.

"At your service," he replied with a mocking bow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Have a good night, psycho. Red does not suit you, by the way."

Whether or not she heard his parting words remained uncertain, as she promptly slammed the door shut in his face. Fuming with anger, he turned on his heel, ready to storm back to his place. But as he reached the door and patted his pocket, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you’ve got to be kidding…" he muttered aloud, his hand coming up empty. He grabbed the doorknob, even though he knew it was a futile gesture without his keys.

Could he be that stupid? Could he really leave his apartment with nothing, not even his damn phone?

Apparently, he could.

With a frustrated grunt, he considered banging his forehead against the door in a fit of vexation but quickly dismissed the idea as both stupid and potentially painful.

And definitely loud.

Left with no other option, he reluctantly decided to seek help from the landlord. He cursed his luck because, of course, the landlord lived right next door to that dreadful neighbor who could easily pass for a murderess in the right lighting. Nevertheless, he really didn't like the idea of spending the rest of the night stranded in the hallway.

This time he climbed the stairs with deliberate steps, determined to handle the situation with a little more finesse. Walking to door number 33, he knocked softly, hoping the guy, by some miracle, wasn’t sleeping yet. Or was already awake. Whatever was closer.

Yet, the silence that greeted him was quite deafening. Undeterred, he knocked once more, this time with slightly more force.

His heart skipped a beat as the door behind him creaked open, and a familiar voice broke the silence. "What happened? Is the landlord too noisy, too?"

He spun on his heels, fingers clenching into tight fists at his sides. "Mind your own business, huh?" he retorted, frustrated.

The young woman chuckled, pausing in her task of wiping away the stubborn red streak of paint from her face with a damp towel. "Richy's out for the night," she informed him, nodding toward the landlord’s apartment. "Whatever you need from him, it'll have to wait until morning."

"Well, isn't that just fucking perfect," he growled, more to himself than to her.

Her laughter bubbled louder at his exasperation, head tilting slightly in amusement. Quickly, she covered her mouth, though, mindful of the late hour and not wanting to disturb the neighbors further.

"Let me guess, genius," she remarked with a hint of amusement, her smile softening. "You locked yourself out. A smarty-pants like you? Aww, that’s so sad…" Her lips pursed in mock sympathy as she tried to wipe her hands of the remnants of red paint.

He snorted in response but remained silent. With determined strides, he made his way towards the stairs, fully prepared to spend the night wandering the city until morning. Passing her by without so much as a glance, he was about to descend when she called out to him.

"Okay, wait a minute," her voice caused him to pause mid-step. "I think I can help you out."

“No, thanks,” he snorted, turning to her, “You just want to gloat at my misfortune.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she shook her head. "Maybe a little," she admitted playfully. "But you're the asshole here. I'm just the good-natured maniac whose pretty bike you keep blocking."

Her bluntness caught him off guard, and he regarded her with a mixture of surprise and skepticism. After a moment of contemplation, he let out a resigned sigh, realizing that he was indeed in a bit of a bind with very limited options.

"Come in, will you?" she urged when he didn’t respond. "I'll go get some tools."

"Tools?" he echoed, but she had already vanished inside, leaving him with no choice but to follow.

After a moment or two, he sighed and cautiously crossed the threshold of her apartment, his eyes scanning the space to locate where she had gone. The layout of the place mirrored his own, a spacious studio with an open living area. However, the differences in décor were quite obvious—unfinished paintings leaned against the walls, an easel stood in one corner with a canvas in progress, and sheets of paper littered various surfaces, each with vibrant splashes of color. The faint smell of fresh paint lingered in the air, and somehow it wasn't unpleasant at all.

On the floor in the further corner of the room, his gaze landed on a toolbox, its lid slightly ajar. Beside it lay a hammer and a small painting, only partially framed.

The culprit of the noise.

"Hey, what did you mean by tools–" he started, his voice trailing off as he took a few steps toward the bedroom, only to freeze in place.

She had already taken off her paint-stained flannel shirt and was in the process of pulling a red t-shirt over a snug tank top, the fabric clinging to her figure a little too perfectly. He felt a pang of unease, suddenly aware of his accidental intrusion into her personal space.

He barely had a moment to process his embarrassment before she turned around with a smile as she noticed him there, her laughter hitting his ears. Then, with a playful shake of her head and a casual run of her fingers through her messy dark hair, she made her way back into the living room.

"So you're not just an asshole, but a voyeur, too?" she teased, her tone surprisingly light given the circumstances. "What a combination!"

"S–sorry," he mumbled, feeling a flush of embarrassment color his cheeks as he looked away. "I didn't mean to. I was just–" He clicked his tongue in frustration, struggling to find the right words. "In my defense, you disappeared, and I just wanted to–"

“Relax, eh? Let's open your door,” she interjected, her laughter cutting through his stumbling explanation as she patted him on the shoulder and moved toward a large toolbox.

"What? H–how?" he stammered stupidly, his gaze following her movements as she crouched next to the box, her fingers deftly rummaging through its peculiar contents.

"Yeah, well… Have you ever taken a closer look at me or my apartment?" she quipped, a wry lift of her eyebrow accentuating her point. "I'm the absolute embodiment of forgetfulness and scatterbrained tendencies, in case you haven't noticed. How many times do you reckon I've accidentally slammed that darn door and found myself locked out? Those locks might seem sturdy, but truth be told, they're quite easy to pick…"

He snorted in disbelief. "Wait, wait, hold on... Are you seriously thinking about picking my lock?"

"Why not?" she shrugged casually, as if it were the most natural suggestion in the world.

He opened his mouth to make a cutting remark, but found himself at a loss for words.

"Yup. You're crazy. I'm leaving," he declared, raising his hands in resignation as he turned towards the door.

“Well. Good luck, then!” she chuckled skeptically, waving to him with a small, thin screwdriver and what looked like a hairpin. “I hope your doormat is comfortable… You should know that Richy is on a date, and I guess it went very well, so I have no idea what time he'll be back. Might as well be late in the afternoon. Or in the evening.”

He paused, a mix of disbelief and fascination flickering across his face as he turned back to look at her. Despite the paint smudges and the aura of chaos surrounding her, there was a peculiar glint in her eyes that felt oddly genuine and dependable. Bold. Daring.

"This can’t be happening…” he muttered, his fingers instinctively finding their way to pinch the bridge of his nose.

She only chuckled further, “If it makes you feel any better, the first time it took me about 3 hours to get inside.”

“So you've… really done this before?" he inquired tentatively.

She burst into laughter, her amusement almost contagious. "Yup. I do this every two weeks or so. My own door, of course! But don't let Richy in on my little secret. I just don’t want to bother him too much..."

He hesitated, uncertain whether to trust someone whose toolbox contained an eclectic mix of brushes, paints, and all variety of tools. As he pondered, his gaze drifted to the paintings adorning the walls behind her.

"Hey… Did you paint those yourself?" he asked, pointing to the colorful canvases, most of which were saturated in shades of red.

"Of course. Why do you ask? Want some proof?" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest, the screwdriver still held loosely in her hand. “Or are you about to critique my masterpieces?”

"No, I just— I... I've seen similar ones. All over the city. In different places," he explained, his voice trailing off uncertainly.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze narrowing as she processed his words, rising from her spot on the floor. "You mean that street art?"

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes lingering on her still paint-splattered face. "Are they yours? They are, aren’t they?"

"Planning to report that too?" she shot back, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone as she held his gaze. "Just like my bike and the alleged noise at night? You know you have no evidence for any of it!"

"No, it's not that," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm just curious. I really like those paintings. The ones in the city, I mean. I never would've guessed someone like you could be the artist behind them."

“I didn’t say I was.”

"Come on," he gestured towards the red figure on the canvas, "They're identical to the ones in the city. These simple, faceless cat-like characters doing all sorts of amazing little things. Cleverly hidden in various, unexpected places."

"No, they're most definitely not identical," she huffed, striding up to the painting. "Can't you see something's missing in mine?"

"Yes, those big eyes painted with thick black lines, right? Sometimes other details, too. Very distinctive."

"Distinctive my ass! They're just stupid doodles that someone painted on real things!" she retorted, her frustration evident as she gestured toward the artwork.

"Do you really think so? People seem to like them. Have you seen all those pictures all over the web? They got quite popular, at least in the city. They even got a name, what was it…" He rubbed his stubbled chin, trying to recall.

"Night Watchers," the woman sighed, resigned.

"Right," he grinned with an odd sense of satisfaction, "Night Watchers. I like it."

"Well, I don’t!" she snapped, pointing her sharp screwdriver at him once again. "Those doodles are crude and primitive. And so are those who paint them!"

"Fine, fine!,” he laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “You're strangely defensive here, and we're just talking about graffiti, you know? Are you sure they're not yours?"

"Forget it," she sighed, taking her keys and waving them in front of his nose. "Come on. I’ll get you and your arrogant ass home."

He opened his mouth to protest, but seeing her determination, he realized there was no point. Without hesitation, she strode down the corridor, and he hastened to follow.

As they reached his apartment door, the young woman wasted no time in kneeling down, her movements fluid and assured as she began to work on the lock. He watched her with a mix of fascination and disbelief, the scene unfolding before him like something out of a movie. Here he was, in the dead of night, entrusting a stranger with the task of breaking into his own home. and not just a stranger. It was a surreal moment, one he never could have anticipated.

"My name’s Charlie, by the way," she muttered suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence. Despite her focus on the task at hand, there was a hint of warmth in her tone. "You can tell me yours, or I can keep calling you an asshole. Whatever you prefer."

He snorted in slight disbelief, recalling the last name written on an intercom, “Okay, hold on. You want to tell me your name is Charlie Brown*?”

She turned to him, her expression serious and unfazed, “Charlie Brown. Got a problem with that?”

“No, it's…” he scratched his head, trying to contain his smile to a minimum, “It's just cut– curious. That's all. Fits an artist, I guess.”

“Uh-huh. So?” her gaze focused on the lock once more, “Do you want me to keep calling you an asshole?”

"Tempting," he conceded, leaning against the railing with a wry smile. "But my name is Jake."

“Well then, Jake…” Charlie's fingers danced over the lock, her touch deft and precise. With a soft click, the lock surrendered, and she pushed the door open. "Welcome home." Her grin was triumphant as she got up and gestured for him to enter.

“I'll consider this as compensation for disturbing my peace,” he sighed, stepping past her as he finally made his way back to his place. But then, as he glanced back at her, he nodded slowly. "Thank you, Charlie. You'd make a very good burglar."

“Yeah… No problem,” she rolled her eyes, “Suppose us insomniacs have to stick together. No matter how annoying you are.”

Jake’s shoulders shook with silent mirth, “Yes, well. It was… interesting to finally meet you, Charlie Brown. And you actually do look good in red… when it’s not all over you,” he casually pointed to her t-shirt.

“Screw you, Jake,” her eyes crinkled at the corners as she snorted at him, “See you around.”

He watched her vanish down the hallway, a smile lingering on his lips. Then, with a soft click, he closed the door behind him, careful not to make a sound.

. . ………………… . .

She came to an abrupt stop, her fingers tightening around her phone as she squinted at the grimy wall of the aging city building. Until quite recently, it had served as a canvas for her creativity. The playful red figure mid-jump over the rope – the cable swaying from the electrical box nearby.

Now, however, it was something entirely different.

Thick, bold lines appeared on her little masterpiece. A bike now dominated the scene, but not just any bike. It was a truly whimsical rendition, making the red figure no longer leaping but riding that damn bike with carefree abandon. A large basket adorned the front, and right in it—a brush, and a screwdriver.

And there were those eyes. Those unmistakable, big, doodle-like eyes.

A laugh had to leave her lips, disbelief and amusement fighting with each other, as she read the small writing underneath.

Coffee tonight?

“That damn asshole…”

. . ………………….. . .

*You all probably know this well, but Charlie Brown is a character from the comic Peanuts :)

Thanks for reading! Leave a comment, share, let me know what you think ;) <3

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood oneshot #jake x mc #MC's got a name because I can't do it otherwise

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ghoulie-67-baby · 2 years ago

Text

I trusted you - Criminal Minds.

Summary: The team was finally let in on the secret that Emily isn’t dead and as her fiancé its more than just a surprise.

Warnings: faked death, angst, crying, attempted violence, language.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fiancée!reader.

Word count: 1,236.

There she was. At the door. Standing there as healthy looking as always with rosy cheeks, red lips and black hair that made it all stand out beautifully against her pale skin.

"Oh my god," Garcia's face was streaked with tears as her eyes met Emily's at the door. I stared at each of them as she moved to hug Spencer, staying back from the group as the instinctively moved closer. I stepped backwards a little, my heart pounding in my chest and my stomach turning over, as her voice filled the room.

"I am so sorry, I really am, not a day went by, I didn't wanna..." She started looking directly at Morgan before she walked towards him. I'd made myself so small, so unimportant, that she hadn't realised I was there yet. "...really... I... you didn't deserve that... and I'm so sorry." She pulled him into a hug and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, finding it difficult to believe she was really alive as she closed her eyes tight against his shoulder. "It's so good to see you all again, I've missed you all so much." Her face was lit up with a smile as she looked at the members of our team before her eyes finally came to rest on me, where I had buried myself into the back doorway to the room.

The smile dropped instantly and her eyes widened, meeting my own watery gaze, before she stepped in my direction. On shaking legs I took another step back, shoulder blades clipping the door frame, as Emily and the team looked at me with a mix of emotions. Looking around I could see pain, anger, disbelief, shock and confusion at my reaction. I knew they expected me to ball and run into her arms and part of me wanted to so I had to fight to keep my feet grounded where I stood.

"Y/N," She started but I shook my head, bile beginning to rise in my throat. I hummed monotonously as the feeling worsened in an attempt to stave it off. "Please. Let me explain." My eyes flickered frantically around the room as I took deep breaths to try and stop the spinning in my head and anxiety that rattled my body. Penelope stepped my way, around everyone, with a look of concern on her face as she spoke. Her words didn't register as only my humming shook my body. "Y/N." Emily's broken whisper caught my attention and my hardened eyes met her instantly.

"Don't." I choked out. "Just don't." My hands steadied me against the wall as I shook my head, thoughts racing as I stepped closer to the team. "You," I pointed at Hotch as his dark eyes flickered my way. "And you." This time to JJ. "Both knew. You both knew. And you let us think she was dead. You let me think my fiancée was dead." My voice wavered and I gritted my teeth at the weakness in my voice.

"Y/N you have to understand we couldn't say anything for safety reasons." I watched the blonde woman try to reason with me as my anger rose. "We didn't"

"No! Shut up! Shut. Up." My hands shook as I pointed at her, not realising I had raised my voice. "Don't you dare try to justify this. One word, that's all I needed. One word to say you were alive and I could've lived with that. My fiancée, Aaron! My fucking fiancée!" I knew I was yelling but I couldn't help it even as Emily walked my way. "You bastard! You could've told me!" Arms wrapped around my waist as Morgan caught me from lunging at our boss and I scrambled against his grip, legs flailing from the effort I was putting into getting away from him. "Morgan so help me god, let me go! You could have fucking said something! I trusted you Hotch! I trusted both of you an you lied to us like we didn't even matter, like I didn't matter!"

"Y/N enough, come on." I finally stilled in his arms, chest heaving and tears, I hadn't realise I'd been crying, streaming down my face. "Stop and just think. You can't go hitting out at him even if you're angry and upset." My glare came to a stop as Emily stood in my line of vision, her own tears starting to fall.

"You could've told me. Why wouldn't you tell us? I would've kept it a secret, we all would." I slouched against Derek's chest as the anger finally turned to anguish. My fiancé was right here, after the months I thought she was dead, decomposing in a box underground and here she was as beautiful as ever despite the tears.

"Baby I'm so sorry, I really am. You have to see that." Her hands slowly reached out towards me as I squeezed my eyes shut. "Please can I hold you?" With a shaky nod Morgan's arms loosened and I, all but, fell into her waiting arms, melting into the touch as she wrapped them around me. "It's okay, I'm here Y/N." Her muttered soothed me as we sank to the floor of the conference room in a pile of tears and broken apologies. I practically wailed as the smell of her perfume finally engulfed me, a smell that I had missed so much in the past few months , her gentle hands rubbing my back like they used to after a bad day, her hair tickling my skin.

"Emily. I trusted you." Sobs racked my body as I spoke. "I didn't care about your past, I didn't care about Doyle coming after me but you. How could you? Emily, how could you make me think you were dead for months on end? The amount of times I hid myself at David's or someone else's so I didn't have to face our home, face the fact you weren't there even though all I could smell was you, see you, everywhere. The times when I cried until I felt numb, until I wanted the world to swallow me up, to let me join you in that grave. I wanted to die with you Emily." Her body stiffened against mine as I cried into her neck, hand clasped against her back and the other tangled in her hair. "I tried to hard to get back to you."

"Baby I'm so sorry," I took a shuddering breath, pulling away slightly so I could look at her face. "How can I make it up to you? Can I make it up to you?" She was so beautiful, even with tears rolling down her face. As perfect as ever, I took in every inch of her face, watching her lips as she spoke before my eyes met her own.

"Just promise me," I whispered to her, "Swear to me you'll never leave me again Emily." My thumbs brushed over her cheeks as I spoke.

"I swear, with all that I have, I'll never leave you again Y/N." With that a fresh wave of emotion flew through me, taking my breath as I rested my forehead against hers. After a few moments, our lips met and relief flooded through me as she kissed me gently, salt from our tears mingling into it.

"I love you so much Em, so damn much."

"I know baby, I love you more than you could realise."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #x reader #reader insert

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coldfanbou · 2 years ago

Text

TIAM IS Side Stories: Pushing Boundaries

New side story for y'all, and it's a long one.

Everyone raised their glass as you celebrated the last day of filming for the Fancy MV. You all ate food and drank as the night went on, except for Tzuyu and Chaeyoung. You even set up a table to play beer pong, thinking it would be fun to play with the members. It was not. After the first few rounds, they ganged up on you, and you were drinking to excess. You could barely stand by the end due to the copious amount of alcohol. The party would wind down slowly, with each member returning to their bedroom. Feeling a bit horny, you tried to go to Jihyo, Mina, and Dahyun, but they were too tired. Not wanting to sleep yet, you go to Chaeyoung's room, closing the door behind you.

"Oppa?" She says, her eyes slowly opening. You had woken her up when you walked in. "What are you doing?"

"I'm horny," you say while pulling your cock out.

"I don't want to," Chaeyoung responds. Hearing that, you spank Chaeyoung roughly. Pulling down her bottoms, you spank her again, turning her ass red quickly.

"I thought my sleeve always wanted to have sex." You say, gripping her ass, getting ready for another smack.

"Jihyo's going to get mad if we have sex, Oppa. I can't…" Chaeyoung mutters.

"Then a blowjob. That isn't sex, and I need a little something from my favorite cocksleeve." Chaeyoung smiles a little as she hears you call her your favorite.

"Okay, but we have to be-" A loud pounding on the wall stops her.

"I'm trying to sleep! Be quiet!" Chaeyoung is discouraged by the yelling and decides against it. You try to walk away, knowing it’s Jihyo on the other side of the wall. As you step outside Chaeyoung's room, you slip, hitting your head as you fall. Hearing the loud thud gets the attention of the still-drinking Nayeon and Jeongyeon, who were downstairs. They see you stumbling to your room and laugh.

"Come on, let's help him," Nayeon says while she puts your arm around her shoulder. Jeongyeon smiles to herself and helps you to your room. You're fast asleep as soon as they lay you down on your bed. "I don't think we should leave him like that." She pauses for a moment before looking at the small closest. "Jeongyeon…would you mind helping me change him into his pajamas?"

Jeongyeon lets out a huff, "Do we have to?" Her acting is top-notch as she manages to hide the deep-seated desire.

"I just think that he would appreciate it."

"Fine, I'll help, but you owe me." Jeongyeon starts pulling down your pants while Nayeon works on getting your shirt off. After Nayeon puts a shirt on you, but before they can put on your shorts, your cock starts to get hard. They both laugh at the suddenness of your erection before Jeongyeon hatches an idea. "Nayeon, you should touch it."

"What?" Nayeon says with a laugh.

"Touch it. Aren't you his girlfriend?" Jeongyeon says while she sticks her tongue out. She kneels before your cock before motioning Nayeon to do the same.

"I-I will, but you have to too!" Nayeon yells, thinking that Jeongyeon would disagree.

"Okay, deal," Jeongyeon smirks as she sees Nayeon's mouth drop. She thinks that maybe Jeongyeon isn't thinking straight but refuses to back down. Nayeon's hand shakes as she reaches for your cock. As she grips it, she slowly gives it a few strokes. "How about a bet?"

"A bet?"

"I bet you can't make him cum without waking him up."

"I bet I can," Nayeon says, her competitive spirit igniting. Nayeon begins stroking your cock quickly. Her big hands smoothly slide down your shaft as she tries to get you to cum quickly. Jeongyeon giggles, watching her plan work out.

"If you're not careful, he's going to wake up," Jeongyeon says. You moan loudly, startling both women. Nayeon stops her hand job. "You lose!"

"That’s not fair; I didn't know I couldn't let go," Nayeon says in a quiet shout, shoving her friend. "I'd like to see you do better."

"Alright, I will." Jeongyeon confidently wraps her hand around your cock. She vividly remembers the last time she touched it and immediately feels wet. Her soft hand slowly moves up and down your shaft, as she enjoys every second.

"I was doing it quickly, so you have to, too," Nayeon complains.

Jeongyeon's hand picks up the pace. "Like this?" She says with an amused face. Precum starts to come out as Jeongyeon continues, but a sudden thrust stops her in her tracks and forces her hand away.

"I guess you couldn't do it either," Nayeon teases. She sticks her tongue out toward Jeongyeon. The precum on Jeongyeon's hand gets both of the women's attention. Nayeon lifts Jeongyeon's hand and licks it, tasting the salty liquid. Jeongyeon does the same. Both women savor the taste for a moment before looking at each other.

"Want to make him cum?" Jeongyeon asks. Nayeon's in shock at the sudden change in Jeongyeon's demeanor. She stays silent momentarily, rationalizing her actions as being due to the alcohol. "So? Do you want to?"

Nayeon nods her head, "Yeah, I do." Jeongyeon strokes your cock briefly before suggesting something new to Nayeon.

"Let's give him a blowjob." Nayeon nods her head again. Whether it be due to the alcohol or not, she would push her limits. "You can go first." Nayeon doesn't hesitate and pushes the head of your cock past her lips; she swirls her tongue around the head as she bobs her head. She strokes the remaining part of your shaft, even as it gets covered in her drool. Jeongyeon watches her friend do her best to make you cum. She's tempted to finger herself but stops herself. Instead, she places her hand on the back of Nayeon's head and pushes her down, causing her to gag. Nayeon comes back up as soon as Jeongyeon lets go.

"What was that for?" Nayeon says through heavy coughs. Jeongyeon can't contain her laughs and just points at Nayeon's saliva-covered face.

"You should see the look on your face." Naueon continues coughing.

"I'll get my revenge," she thinks to herself. "Fine, it's your turn Jeongyeon."

Jeongyeon grips your cock again. She leans forward, taking a small sniff of it. She gulps before taking the head of your cock in her mouth. Her lips stretch around your cock as she pushes to take more of you in. Her hand wanders down to her shorts, where she rubs her pussy through the thin fabric. Nayeon is too engrossed by the pure enjoyment of Jeongyeon's face to notice. The younger woman shuts her eyes as she tastes your cock for the first time. The slight saltiness from your precum drives her to take more in. Your cock hits the back of Jeongyeon's throat before she can take it all in. Nayeon readies herself to push Jeongyeon's head, disguising her action by moving Jeongyeon's hair out of the way. Just like Jeongyeon had done to her minutes earlier, Nayeon pushed Jeongyeon's head down, causing her to gag. It was Nayeon's turn to point and laugh as she ruined Jeongyeon's moment.

"Now, neither one of us gets his cum." Nayeon says with a laugh.

"What if I jerked him off, and you used your mouth?"

Nayeon's silent for a moment, Jeongyeon's offer was too good for her to reject. "Okay, let's do it." The pair work in tandem to make you cum. Your moans grow louder as Nayeon's tongue runs over the head of your cock. You buck your hips as you cum and fill her mouth with cum. Nayeon's surprised at first but manages to get every last drop. Jeongyeon watches her friend drink from your cock. Nayeon keeps some in her cheek, pulling Jeongyeon into a kiss where she shares your cum. Shocked at first, Jeongyeon quickly gives in once the thick liquid hits her tongue and kisses Nayeon back.

Jeongyeon moans slightly as she finishes her drink, "What if we rode him."

"We can't; I want my first time to be special." Nayeon quickly replies.

"You don't have to let it go inside; just rub it between your lips." Nayeon nods along as she gets what Jeongyeon means.

"Yeah, let's do it." Nayeon strips off her pants and panties, climbs on top of you, and presses her lips against your cock. She moans as she begins to rub against your cock. Jeongyeon covers her friend's mouth.

"Shh, you'll wake him up." Nayeon doesn't stop, continuing to moan as the tip brushes against her entrance. Her hips pick up speed, and Nayeon gropes her breasts with one hand while using the other to keep her balance as she pushes herself closer to her orgasm. She feels your cock begin to throb and hears light moans escape your mouth. Jeongyeon watches the older woman enjoy herself and wants her turn to come already. She whispers into Nayeon's ear, "What would he think of you riding him while he was asleep?" Nayeon's imagination runs wild, causing her cum; you do the same. Your cum covers much of Nayeon's legs; she quickly dismounts you and collects the cum, treasuring her reward.

Jeongyeon, seeing your cock go limp, strokes it a few times until it becomes rock hard. "What a beast; he came twice, but he's already hard again." She smiles to herself before straddling you. Feeling the heat radiating from your cock, Jeongyeon enjoys it as she slowly drags her wet cunt across your shaft. Her low moans turn her on further as she excites herself. For a brief moment, Jeongyeon thinks, "I should just put it in me."

"Look at you enjoying yourself," Nayeon says, teasing her friend. Nayeon's words reminded Jeongyeon that she wasn't alone, so she continued rubbing against your cock until you both came. She covered her mouth, and her body quivered as she did. Your cum shot onto the tops of her thighs, and Jeongyeon made sure not to let it go to waste. The women look at each other for a minute before Nayeon yawns. "We should clean up and go to bed."

"...yeah, I'll clean up here; you clean yourself up first." Nayeon nods and stumbles to the bathroom. The alcohol from the night's drinking was obviously taking its toll on her now. Jeongyeon turned back to you as Nayeon closed the door. She grabs her phone and, opening it, is reminded of the videos and pictures. A light pops up above her head as she has an idea. Positioning the phone just right, she begins recording as she straddles your body again. She rubs her pussy lips along your cock like before. You both moan as Jeongyeon pleasures you both. She closes her eyes and bites her lip as she speeds up. Every time the tip brushes against her entrance, Jeongyeon gasps, feeling the resistance before it eventually slips back between her lips. Jeongyeon throws off her top, freeing her breasts. She plays with her nipples as she continues to ride you. Pulling on it, as she picks up the pace.

"I want you so bad. It wouldn't be wrong if I slipped it in me, would it?" Jeongyeon asks you, knowing you can't respond. She presses the tip of your cock against her pussy, ready to slam herself onto it when you moan.

"Mmm…Jihyo, wait." Hearing you moan someone else's name stops her in her tracks. Jeongyeon resorts to rubbing her lips against you again until you both cum. This time the first spurt of your cum shoots onto Jeongyeon's cunt and the rest onto her stomach, and Jeongyeon decides to leave it there. She kneels before you, swallowing your cock. Jeongyeon uses her tongue to lap up at the head before pulling away and kissing it. She holds your cock, now covered in her nectar. Slapping her cheeks with it, Jeongyeon looks at you once more.

"I want you to ruin me with this. I want you to moan my name as you fuck me. You have no idea how much I've thought about what it would be like for you to throw me onto my bed and fuck me silly." Jeongyeon says as she strokes your cock quickly and caresses your balls. "To stuff me with your cock and then cum inside, filling me up. I want it all; I want it all inside me." She begins lapping at the sides of your shaft before kissing the tip. She takes as much of your shaft as she can before she feels your cock throb in her mouth. She changes from simply cleaning up to making sure she gets a taste from the source. Jeongyeon bobs her head quickly until you start filling her mouth. She holds herself in place, drinking everything you have to give her. The thick salty liquid runs down her throat into her stomach. When she feels you slow down, she lets her mouth fill up. Jeongyeon is careful not to spill a drop as she leaves your cock. She walks toward her phone, still recording her, and, looking right at it, opens her mouth, letting your cum spill onto her body. It runs down her chin onto her breasts before covering her belly and continuing downward. Jeongyeon licks her lips as she looks back at you for a moment.

Satisfied, Jeongyeon grabs her phone and stops recording. A small mirror in the room allows her to look at herself, and Jeongyeon can't help but snap a few pictures. "Jeongyeon! Are you done yet?" She hears Nayeon call from downstairs.

"Almost!" She responds. She quickly puts your clothes on you before walking to the bathroom and staring at herself. Covered in cum, Jeongyeon smiles at the reflection in the mirror. She reaches up, grabbing at her breasts, spreading your cum into her skin before one hand goes down to her pussy. Jeongyeon fingers herself as she washes her body before putting her clothes back on.

The following day the pair talked about last night. Nayeon seemed to not remember much after putting you to bed. Jeongyeon acted as if nothing happened. She was a little shocked at how far she took things, but it turned her on. Jeongyeon stared at her phone, watching the video she had taken without Nayeon being any the wiser.

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honeydixonn · 10 days ago

Text

die together, hae jo | mr plankton

two, hae-jo

4159 words

The sharp fluorescent lights of the hospital room reflected off the sterile white walls, casting an unnatural glow over everything. Hae-Jo's breath steadied as he stirred awake, his body slick with sweat, his head pounding like a drum. Blinking away the remnants of his trauma-induced dream, he narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar surroundings. The antiseptic smell, the scratchy sheets, the beeping monitors—it all screamed hospital.

He rolled onto his side, groaning as his muscles protested, his mind replaying the chaos of the bike crash. The sound of screeching tires and yelling voices echoed faintly in his ears.

"Hyung-nim!"

The voice snapped him back to reality as Kkari, his loyal but impulsive friend, rushed over from a chair near the bed. His face was etched with concern, but there was a spark of relief in his eyes as he leaned over Hae-Jo.

"You're awake?"

Hae-Jo ignored the question, rubbing his temples to ease the pounding sensation in his skull. His body felt heavy, and his thoughts were sluggish, but Kkari's presence was an annoying constant he couldn't shake.

"Hyung-nim," Kkari pressed, clearly worried. "Hey, how many?"

Hae-Jo opened one eye, watching in irritation as Kkari held up a middle finger, then another, waving them rapidly in his face.

"How many fingers? How about now?"

"Motherfucker," Hae-Jo muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse but audible enough to make Kkari grin in relief.

"Ah, he's fine," Kkari said, plopping back down into the rolling chair beside the bed. "They think it's just a mild concussion. Is your recklessness bringing you good luck or what?"

Hae-Jo groaned, pushing himself upright despite the pounding in his head. Every movement felt like dragging himself out of quicksand. He glanced down at the IV needle in his arm, frowning at the sensation of the cold fluid trickling into his veins.

"The lady?" he asked, his voice flat.

Kkari scoffed. "Oh, that bitch? She rolled out before the crash. Got her scratches treated and hightailed it to the airport. Probably sipping champagne by now."

Hae-Jo's expression didn't change. He gave a brief nod, more to himself than to Kkari, as he yanked the IV needle out with a grunt. The sharp sting and cool air hitting the puncture site made him wince.

"Let's get out of here," he said, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his jacket from the chair.

Kkari threw his hands up in exasperation. "Are you serious? You almost died, and now you want to just walk out like nothing happened?"

"Uh-huh."

As they moved toward the door, a voice from behind stopped them.

"Excuse me, a moment please."

They turned to see a doctor standing in the doorway, his expression calm but purposeful. Hae-Jo frowned, the man's demeanor putting him on edge.

"You're Mr. Hae-Jo, correct? If you don't mind, I'd like to discuss something with you privately," the doctor said, gesturing toward a small office down the hall.

Hae-Jo hesitated, glancing at Kkari, who shrugged. With a resigned sigh, he followed the doctor, his footsteps heavy against the linoleum floor.

The cramped office had walls lined with medical books and anatomical diagrams. The doctor's monitor on the desk flickered as he displayed a series of CT scans. Hae-Jo sat in the chair across from him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and tapping his fingers together impatiently.

"You see these round, white masses here?" the doctor began, pointing to the screen.

Hae-Jo squinted at the images, his brow furrowing. "Like sae-al, or what?"

The doctor blinked. "Sae-al?"

"Yeah," Hae-Jo said, sighing as he gestured vaguely. "The little rice cake balls in patjuk."

A flicker of recognition crossed the doctor's face as he refocused on the scans. "Well, not exactly, but... I suppose they could look similar. These are blood vessels in your brain that have knotted up in abnormal formations. That's why they appear as these tangled masses."

"Tangled?" Hae-Jo repeated, leaning closer.

The doctor nodded. "These malformations reduce blood flow to the brain, decreasing the oxygen supply to brain cells. Over time, the intracranial pressure increases, and eventually—"

"They'll explode," Hae-Jo interrupted, his face pale. "Like a bomb."

The doctor hesitated, then gave a grim nod. "That's... one way to put it, yes."

Hae-Jo leaned back in his chair, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants until his knuckles turned white. "I'm dying?"

The doctor's face softened, but his tone remained clinical. "This is a rare condition. Untreated, it's terminal. Surgery might be an option for others, but in your case..."

"How long?" Hae-Jo asked, his voice sharp, cutting off the explanation.

The doctor paused, leaning on the desk. "It's hard to say definitively, but... if we're being optimistic, three months."

Hae-Jo exhaled sharply, the weight of the words pressing down on his chest. His gaze drifted to the window, where the faint outline of the sun shone weakly through the tinted glass.

"Hereditary?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"In most cases, yes," the doctor replied. "Do you know if your parents or siblings have a similar condition?"

A bitter laugh escaped Hae-Jo's lips. He shook his head, scratching his nose as he stared at the floor. "Parents? Siblings? No. Just me. But it's good to know they left me their ticking time bomb."

The doctor opened his mouth as if to say something, but Hae-Jo stood abruptly, cutting him off.

"This doesn't feel fair," Hae-Jo muttered, his laugh hollow as he adjusted his jacket. "But what is, right?"

The doctor watched as he walked out of the office without another word, his mind already racing toward the only question that mattered: What do I do with the time I have left?

Hae-Jo sat in the dimly lit hospital lobby, the sterile smell of disinfectant and the muffled chatter of voices pressing in around him. His chest felt hollow, his body heavy as though gravity itself was punishing him for simply existing. He stared blankly at the screen mounted on the wall, playing an endless loop of public service announcements.

"We will stay by your side like your family so that your final moments are beautiful."

The words crawled across the screen in pristine lettering, their message meant to be comforting. Instead, they clawed at his mind, taunting him. Family. A concept he'd never known and would never have. He shifted uncomfortably, biting back the bitter laugh that threatened to escape.

His phone buzzed against his thigh, the vibrations a sharp interruption in the stillness of his thoughts. He pulled it out of his pocket, the screen glowing with Kkari's name. With a tired sigh, he pressed the power button, silencing it.

The weight of his reality pressed harder on him. Every mistake he'd ever made, every decision he'd avoided, all of it played back in his mind like a relentless reel. What if he'd stayed with her? What if he hadn't lied? What if he had chosen differently?

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw movement in his peripheral vision. A figure walked through the lobby, her head hung low, and her hands clutched a bag like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

His breath caught.

Seorin.

She hadn't seen him, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Her lips were pressed together in that familiar way, trembling as though holding back tears. She'd always done that—swallowing her pain, pretending she was stronger than she felt. His heart ached at the sight, a sharp pang that nearly knocked the air out of him.

Her hair was longer than he remembered, lighter too, the color framing her face delicately. But her glasses—her signature glasses, the ones that always slipped down her nose—were gone. He had loved those glasses, loved the way she adjusted them absentmindedly when she was thinking too hard.

His chest tightened as he watched her step outside, into the rain that had started to fall heavier. He stood without thinking, his body moving on instinct when he heard the first choked sob escape her lips.

He approached the glass doors, his footsteps quiet, his breath shallow. She was leaning against the wall outside now, her back to him, her body trembling as she clutched her bag for support.

She still wore the gray coat he had given her last year, the one with her initials stitched on the tag. He remembered the day he bought it, how she had laughed at the extravagance, saying, "What do I need with initials on a coat? Who's going to steal it?" But she'd loved it. She'd worn it almost every day.

He clenched his fists as the memories washed over him. She looked so small now, so fragile against the backdrop of rain and gray skies.

She hated the rain. He remembered that too. She hated water on her face, hated swimming, hated anything that reminded her of drowning.

The wind picked up, and the rain began to splash against her pants, but she didn't seem to notice. She stayed there, her sobs quiet but raw, the sound cutting through him like a knife.

Hae-Jo took a shaky breath, his emotions warring within him. His hand reached out almost of its own accord, grabbing a black umbrella from the bin near the doors. He stepped into the rain, pulling his hat low over his face to shield his identity.

When he reached her, his steps slow and deliberate, he slid the umbrella into her hand. His fingers brushed hers for a fleeting second, a spark of connection he hadn't felt in months.

But he forgot to open it.

His nerves frayed, his heart pounding in his chest, he turned on his heel and began walking away, his footsteps quick and uneven.

"Wait!"

Her voice cracked, the sobs still clinging to her throat, and it stopped him dead in his tracks. His heart burned as if someone had set it alight, her voice reverberating through his very core.

He didn't turn around. He couldn't.

Instead, he walked further, stepping to the side and lighting a cigarette with trembling hands. The smoke filled his lungs, the brief reprieve doing nothing to calm the storm inside him.

From the corner of his eye, he watched her. The rain blurred his vision, but he saw the way her tears slowed, her sobs subsiding as she adjusted the umbrella he'd given her. For a moment, she stood there, and he allowed himself the faintest smile.

But the smile was short-lived.

A sharp crack of thunder pierced the air, and suddenly his vision blurred. Pain exploded in his head, his hands flying to his temple as his knees buckled. He stumbled to the side, gripping a low concrete wall for support as the world tilted around him.

The groans left his lips unbidden, his nails digging into the rough surface of the wall as the searing pain radiated through his skull. He forced himself to glance up, his vision swimming as he caught one last glimpse of her.

She was stepping onto a bus, the rain still falling in sheets around her.

His heart twisted as the bus pulled away, carrying her into the distance.

This wouldn't be the last time he saw her. He would make sure of it.

He couldn't leave this world—not without being with her again. One last time.

The rain soaked through Hae-Jo's clothes, the cold seeping into his bones as he slumped against the concrete wall. His head throbbed with a relentless pain, each pulse of it dragging him deeper into the memories he'd tried so hard to bury. He pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, as if he could force them away, but they came anyway—sharp, vivid, and unbearably cruel.

He remembered the mornings. The way she'd burrow into his chest when the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, her body warm and soft against his. She always woke up first, her sleepy voice teasing him to get up, but she never moved until he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to steal a few more minutes of peace.

He remembered the pictures she took with her old, beat-up Polaroid camera. She loved that thing, despite how often it jammed or smeared the photos. Her laugh had filled the room whenever they tried to pose together, her head resting on his shoulder as they waited for the film to develop. Those photos had been everywhere—tacked onto the walls, slipped into her notebooks, tucked into the corners of his wallet. He still had one, creased and faded, hidden deep in his drawer.

And the rings. He'd surprised her with matching silver bands on their second anniversary, simple but elegant, just the way she liked. She had cried when he slid the ring onto her finger, her smile brighter than the sun. She never took it off. He wondered if she still wore it now.

Then there was the fish tank. She adored it, spending hours studying the colorful fish swimming lazily in the water. She had names for all of them—Sundae, Bada, even one she called Mr. Wiggles. She'd sit cross-legged in front of the tank, sketching the fish in her notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration. The tank was empty now, the glass cracked and stained. The fish were gone, killed in the chaos caused by that woman and her bodyguard. He hadn't even gotten to fix it.

And he remembered the words he had once said to her. "You'd make an amazing wife." He'd meant it. She had a way of making even the coldest spaces feel like home. But he had left her. He had taken that dream away, all because he thought she deserved better.

The memories darkened, turning sour and sharp.

He remembered their argument a month before the breakup. She had been frustrated, confused by his sudden distance, and he'd lashed out, telling her things he didn't mean. "You deserve better than me. I'm just an errand boy. What kind of life could I even give you?"

Her response had been fierce, her voice trembling but unwavering. "I don't care about any of that. I chose you. Why can't you see that?"

But he couldn't let himself believe her. He couldn't let her stay.

Then came the breakup.

It was cloudy that day, the sky heavy with the promise of rain, though it never fell. They had met at the park, under their favorite oak tree. He'd told her the lies he thought would make it easier for her to walk away. "I don't love you the way you deserve to be loved."

He had watched the disbelief shatter into heartbreak on her face, watched the tears spill over as she turned and walked away. She had left without looking back, and he had stood there, unmoving, holding back his own tears until she was gone.

It had been the worst kind of pain, the kind that hollowed him out and left him empty. She was the only woman he had ever truly loved, and he had let her go.

Now, standing under a faulty awning that did little to shield him from the rain, Hae-Jo lit another cigarette with trembling hands. The glow of the ember reflected faintly in the puddles around him, the smoke curling into the cold air like whispers of regret.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, warm against the cold of his skin. He wiped it away quickly, almost angrily, before it could reach his lips.

"You fucking idiot," he muttered, his voice cracking.

The words felt hollow, but they were all he could say. He let out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken, as he cursed himself. His lips trembled as he stared out at the rain, his mind racing with the memories that wouldn't let him go.

He thought of her walking out of the hospital earlier, her frame trembling as she stood in the rain. He thought of the way she had looked at him that day under the oak tree, the way her voice had cracked as she said goodbye.

He wanted to chase after her, to grab her hand and tell her everything—that he had lied, that he had never stopped loving her, that he was a coward for letting her go. But he couldn't.

The rain fell harder, streaking down his face like the tears he refused to shed.

Hae-Jo puffed on his cigarette, the smoke burning his throat, as his hands tightened into fists.

"This isn't fair," he whispered to no one. "None of this is fair."

But life wasn't fair. Not for him, not for her.

The cigarette burned down to the filter, and he dropped it, crushing it under his shoe as the rain began to wash it away. He leaned against the wall, his head bowed, the ache in his chest spreading like a sickness.

He didn't know how much time he had left, but he knew one thing for certain.

He couldn't leave this world without seeing her again. Without making things right, even if it was too late.

By the time Hae-Jo arrived at the apartment, he was drenched. Rainwater dripped from his hair and soaked into his shirt collar, the sharp scent of wet earth and asphalt clinging to his clothes. He punched in the code on the door handle and pushed it open, only to be met with Bong-Suk standing in the entryway, her arms crossed, a face mask pulled over her skin, and her silk pajamas glowing faintly under the fluorescent lights.

"What happened to you?" she asked, her brows raised.

Hae-Jo grinned smugly, holding up the plastic bag of takeout he'd grabbed on his way over. "Peace offering," he said, stepping past her as she reluctantly let him in.

He trudged toward the bathroom without another word, his body feeling heavier with each step. The cold rainwater clung to his skin, making him shiver as he peeled off his soaked clothes and let them fall in a sad pile on the floor. The hot water from the shower barely warmed him, his thoughts clouded with the weight of the day, the words from the doctor replaying in his head like a broken record.

When he emerged, he was wrapped in a blue robe, his hair still damp. He made his way to the fridge, pulling out a can of diet Coke. The hiss of the tab breaking the seal echoed faintly in the small apartment.

"What's wrong with you?" Bong-Suk's voice broke through his thoughts as she watched him from her perch on the bed.

He ignored her question, instead sitting on the edge of the bed and taking a slow sip of the Coke, the carbonation fizzing faintly on his tongue.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone disinterested.

"You avoided me when I was looking for you, and now you're here, sucking up to me with soggy takeout," she pressed. "What's gotten into you?"

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the green wall in front of him, its surface uneven and faintly scratched from years of use. He stared at it as though it held answers. "Hmm."

She wasn't about to let him off the hook. "Don't you have any friends to drink with? You're still young, for god's sake."

Hae-Jo's eyes fell to the can in his hand, his fingers tracing the aluminum rim. "If I did," he muttered, "I wouldn't be here now."

Her scoff was loud, filled with irritation. "I'm your bong, I guess."

"Bong-Suk-a," he said, only half-joking.

She glared at him and hit the back of his head. "Ju-Ri, Bong Ju-Ri. I changed my name a long time ago, you brat."

He sighed and turned his head away, his lips curving into a small, bitter smile. "Don't hit my head, all right?"

That only egged her on. She crawled onto her knees and began slapping the back of his head with both hands. "Don't hit your head? Don't hit it like this? What are you going to do about it?"

Without thinking, he grabbed her wrist and gently pushed her down onto the mattress, pinning her there.

"Stop," he said, his voice low, but there was no anger in it. "Keep hitting it, and it'll explode. There are a bunch of bombs in my head. Fourteen at that."

She rolled her eyes as he chuckled softly, but the laughter faded quickly, his smile turning hollow. He stared at her, but his mind was elsewhere—thinking of someone else entirely.

Seorin.

He missed her. The way her breath would fan against his cheek when he pinned her like this, her heartbeat quick against his chest as she waited for him to make the next move. She always looked at him like he was everything, her eyes soft and full of trust he didn't deserve.

It hurt, thinking about her now. It hurt every time he did something—every time he breathed—and thought of her. Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how many lies he told himself, he couldn't escape the truth: he had ruined everything.

Ju-Ri snapped him out of his thoughts, pushing him off her. He rolled onto his back as she tossed him a blanket, shaking her head. "You're crazy," she muttered. "Wandering around in the rain, talking like that. Just go to sleep, all right?"

She sat against the headboard, patting his chest lightly as if to comfort him. "Go to sleep."

He stared at the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. Her voice became background noise, a faint hum as she began singing a made-up lullaby, but it only made his mind wander further.

"Sleep, sleep, my dear Hae-Jo," Bong-Suk sang softly, her voice laced with a teasing edge as she patted his chest.

He sighed, staring at the ceiling, the dim light from the window casting faint shadows across the room. "Bong-Suk-a."

She bit her lip in mock irritation and swatted him lightly on the chest. "You little jerk, how many times do I have to tell you? It's Ju-Ri now. Bong Ju-Ri. You'd better remember it."

He gave a half-hearted chuckle, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his head. Silence fell between them for a moment, broken only by the sound of rain tapping against the windowpane.

"Why do tragedies always seem to find people whose lives are already pathetic?" he said quietly, almost to himself. "If you're poor, you're more likely to get sick. And when you're sick, there's no one to look after you because you don't have a family. And if you don't have family, you're truly... all alone."

He paused, the weight of his words settling heavily in the room. His voice softened, cracking slightly as he continued. "And loners always push away other loners. So why did I push her away?"

Ju-Ri laughed, breaking the tension with a sip from his can of soda. "Are those song lyrics or something?"

He didn't respond, didn't even glance her way. Instead, he turned over, his back to her, and stared out the rain-streaked window. His breath hitched as the memory of the breakup hit him like a train, the vivid images replaying in his mind: her tear-streaked face, her trembling voice, the way she had walked away from him without looking back.

The pain of it all burned in his chest like a smoldering ember, refusing to extinguish. He closed his eyes tightly, but the tears threatened anyway, prickling behind his eyelids.

Bong-Suk said something else, but he barely heard her. The sound of her voice faded into the background as he let out a shaky breath, the rain outside mirroring the storm raging inside him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the memories came anyway. He saw her again, crying outside the hospital earlier that day, her shoulders trembling under the weight of whatever burden she was carrying.

Why was she crying? Why was she there?

He remembered the message she'd sent him after the breakup: Get your things tomorrow when I'm at work. I don't want to see you or them again.

She had blocked him after that. No contact. No closure. Just silence.

"What a fucking joke," he whispered to himself, his voice breaking.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling as the rain outside grew heavier.

If only he had stayed two more weeks, maybe he'd know the thing she was hiding now. Maybe he wouldn't have thrown everything away.

But now, he had no clue. And no time.

#mr plankton hae jo #hae jo fanfic #haejo x reader #hae jo #mr plankton wattpad fic #mr plankton fic #mr plankton #kdrama fic

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jessehart · 9 months ago

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WHERE: some house party during halloweekend. WHO: @walshparker & jesse.

"There's someone in the back bedroom asking about you," Jared said, coming up behind Jesse and squeezing his shoulders. He warmed the bench more often than he didn't and he'd been hovering around Jesse more and more lately like earning his favor might get him into the game. It wouldn't. But if he wanted to play bitch, then who was Jesse to stop him?

He turned towards Jared with an arched eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" Jared's lids were so heavy that they were almost entirely closed. Dude was already wasted and the party had hardly even started. Even Jesse was sober. Or. Mostly sober.

"Mmmhm," Jared confirmed, breathing hot liquor breath in Jesse's face as he laughed. Jesse opened his mouth to protest, but it must have been written on his face because the hands on his shoulders sunk in deeper, all but steering him down the hall. "I told her I'd come grab you. But you gotta be quick."

And he had to admit, he was curious. So he allowed himself to be led, slipping through the doorway as his eyes landed on a blonde. A very familiar blonde. And judging by the look on her face when she spotted him, she hadn't, in fact, been asking for him. He was frozen for another moment just staring, wondering when he'd actually seen her last. He'd given her the space she asked for and had no intention of walking that back now. So he uttered a quick apology and turned on his heel to first leave and then to shove his fist into Jared's gut. But the door was slamming closed, the sound of a lock sliding into place seeming to echo off the walls despite the bass that pounded relentlessly through the house like a heartbeat.

His fist banged against the door as he yelled Jared's name alongside a few threats he very much intended to follow through on. When it became clear he wasn't coming back, Jesse kicked the door for good measure and turned back around to face Parker again, feeling so very, very sober and wishing so very, very much he wasn't. "He told me—" Jesse paused, wondering if it was damning to admit he thought someone had been waiting in here for him. But they weren't together, hadn't even spoken in weeks, so. Whatever. "He said there was someone asking about me in here. I'm not trying to, like, corner you or anything."

#c: parker

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alaydabug2 · 8 months ago

Text

@sparklenarniawizard

Broken heart/Broken mind

Chapter Fifteen

(Human AU)

Sophie and Keefe met in the children's hospital when they were little. Because of how long they were confined to the four walls of the hospital, they became very close during their stay.

As the years pass, they wind up being in the same classroom together due to their physical conditions. This makes their bond deepen.

But are they able to handle when life gets tough, throwing problems and complications their way?

Sophie was sitting in the car on the way to the school. She was being dropped off at Keefe's first baseball game.

She said goodbye to her parents and made her way to the field. When she got there, she saw Keefe with the rest of the baseball team. He was standing with Biana's brother.

Fitz pounded on his helmet, then pointed to the plate. Keefe nodded and ran to be on deck.

Sophie stopped by the concession stand to buy some cheese fries and a Dr. Pepper. She picked the set of bleachers under the shade. It was close to ninety-five degrees out. She didn't understand how any of the players were able to handle it. She was already sweating.

As she waited for the game to start, a car swerved into a parking spot. A car that she recognized.

"Ro!" Sophie exclaimed. She waved her over.

Ro hurried over and sat next to her in the stands. "Hey, blondie. I would've been sooner, but work wouldn't let me out early. The game hasn't started yet, right?"

"Nope." She pointed to the field. "Just getting started."

She sighed in relief. "Good. I promised I'd be here. He was so excited to be able to be in the starting lineup. Where is he?"

Sophie grinned. "On deck right now."

She followed Ro's gaze to where Keefe was standing outside the dugout. He was practicing his swing, following the path of the balls the pitcher was practicing throwing.

The game started. Fitz was the first to bat. He hit the ball and made it to second. The crowd went wild. Then it was Keefe's turn. Sophie and Ro cheered as loud as they could.

Sophie knew that he was able to hit well, but she wasn't aware that he could hit it to the outfield! The center fielder missed the ball. That was what let Fitz make it to home base. Keefe followed after him, albeit much slower. Thankfully, how hard he hit it made up for the lost time.

"Holy crap!" Ro yelled. "Did you know he could do that?"

"No, I swear."

She saw him make it to the dug out with the widest smile on his face. The entire team was pounding on his helmet and clapping his back as he made it in. (A/n I do softball, and this is basically what happens when anyone hits a ball or makes a base. It's fun. 😂) Sophie peered over to the other team. They looked scared. As they should be.

When the game was over, she rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He was dirty from having to slide into third base during the fourth inning. They had won sixteen to ten.

"You did so good!" she told him.

"Thanks!" He looked a little red when he asked, "Do you want to come to the after game dinner?"

"Yeah, I'd love to. Lemme text my parents."

She quickly asked her mom if she could go with Keefe to the Mexican restaurant. She said that it was fine.

Ro kept giving Keefe a look. Sophie looked between the two, trying to figure out why. Ro turned to her. A suspicious grin spread across her her face. Ro opened her mouth to speak, but Keefe cut her off.

"Shouldn’t we get going?" he said hastily.

Ro rolled her eyes.

At the restaurant, her and Keefe sat with Biana and Fitz and the end of the table. She got a notification on her phone just as the food was coming out.

She checked it and found out if was Keefe posting on his snap story. At first it was just from the game. Then she saw herself in there. And Fitz. And Biana. They looked like they were being taken from underneath the table.

She nudged Keefe with her elbow. She raised an eyebrow at him when she showed him the pictures. He gave a guilty smile. She just laughed and playfully bumped her shoulder with his.

#keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #kotlc sophie foster #kotlc keefe sencen #sokeefe #fanfic #Broken heart/Broken mind

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uwukillmenowowo · 9 months ago

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𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 [Tokyo Debunker X F!Reader]

[ 9 | Hera's Snakes] 『🐍』

Key's for the story: Insert - Narrative - And then she stared at her reflection in the mirror [Insert] - Author speaking - [Eyyy there- wazzup readers] "Insert" - Talking - "Hey there!" [But can also be air quotes] 'Insert' - Thinking - 'Dame he's cute...' "Insert" - Whispering - "I- I messed up..." [But can also be an emphasis on a word/phrase, or flashback] (Insert) - Inner mind..? - (Deadass doesn't know how to explain it here) *Insert* - Action - *Sighs with their head down*[INSERT] - Magic - [OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!] or [IGGNAIM!]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: [ 8 | Stalker] 『👀』

━━━✦❘༻🔮༺❘✦━━━

[Book 0] The Academy of Ghouls

[Chapter 9] The Anomaly Known As Hera's Snakes.

━━━✦❘༻🔮༺❘✦━━━

{Third POV}

~~~~~

Hm? I don't recognize you. Who are you?" Romeo asked, still pointing his rifle at the pair. "So you're Kaito's jealous pursuer." Luca asked, still under the impression that Kaito actually did have a romantic rival. "Excuse me? What part of this mushroom head could I possible be jealous of?" Romeo asked sternly. "Mushroom Head? Is that your nickname, Kaito?" Luca asked innocently.

"Of course not, he's just being an asshole! Come on, get rid of him!" Luca hummed. "Let me confirm something first. This is your jealous pursuer, correct?" "Yes... I mean... Well..." In return to Kaito's bad lie, Romeo tisked. "That's the backstory you gave me? Is your financial situation so dire you can't come up with plausible lies?" Kaito flinched and stepped back. "What does he mean?" Luca asked.

"Do you really think I, Romeo Scorpius Lucci. Could be jealous of an off-brand man like him? *Hmph* This little toadstool is in my debt. I'm merely collecting what I'm rightfully owed." Romeo then took out a piece of paper and smirked. "Care to see the paperwork?" He mocked Kaito. In return, Kaito ran towards Romeo, desperate to grab the paper. "GIMME THAT!!" He exclaimed, only for Romeo to hold it higher than he can reach.

"Kaito, is this true?" Luca asked. Kaito sweat dropped and was about to answer, but then Romeo grabbed onto a pendent that Kaito was wearing. "How many times do I have to tell you? If you can't pay just hand over this pendant instead!!" "How many times have I gotta tell you, this is the one thing you'll never get from me!!" Kaito yelled before Luca decided to step in, "Let him go."

Romeo and Kaito turned to the transfer student. "Who the hell are you? Did you hear what I just said?" Then, Luca held up a large amount of cash. "Will this suffice?" He asked. Romeo smirked and let go of Kaito, in favor of the cash presented. "50 pound notes, hm? Interesting. They'd better not be counterfeit." Romeo took the money smirking and started counting. "one, two, three, four, five... twenty... the real deal." "Are you serious..?" Kaito asked, jaw wide open.

"You're quite a high-end man. He still owes another 2000 pounds of interest though. Sorry, but this won't buy his freedom." Romeo taunted and tilted Luca's chin up with his index finger. "WHAT?! You never said anything about interest!!" Kaito exclaimed. So Luca's gaze hardened and decided to challenge the claim. "All right. In that case... I'd like another look at that document."

Romeo's smirk fell and he tisked and glared at Luca. "There's nothing worse than a man with a brain..."

{Your POV}

~~~~~

"The ticket gate is closed???" I questioned aloud. I stopped short just before the Galaxy Express platform, unsure of how to get through the gate. A translucent wall with glowing letters blocked my path. "Tap Catsmo?" I read and groaned. "If I had to guess, it'd be an online TTC pass like Presto..." "Meow?!" I flinched and looked down, and screamed a little when a cat appeared out of nowhere. "Meow! meow!" The cat exclaimed and ran off. "Ah! Wait!" When I locked eyed with the cat, it meowed loudly and scampered off towards the main building."

"Oh sugar... Can these cats tell the chancellor where I am?!" Judging by what I'd seen them achieve so far, I could only assume they could... "I've already come this far... there's no turning back now!" I took out my wand and took in a deep breath. "White to red, and red to white. [Doodle Suit!]"

The gate turned into golden particles for a few seconds but as soon as I passed through I couldn't progress any further. "W-What?!" I tried to use doodle suit again but it didn't work. Then a shrill alarm sounded from the platform.

I heard footsteps approaching faster so I gasped and canceled doodle suit of the ticket gate and hid my wand. The alarm stopped and I sighed. "What are you doing?" I yelped and turned around to see Romeo there. Along with Kaito and Luca. "Are you all right?! Is the anomaly here?!" "Eeeeek... Oh god, please let it not be..." I held my hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how to get onto the platform..."

Romeo glared at me and I reminisced the Savanaclaw situation all over again. "I knew it. What are you doing? Why are you wearing Hera's Snakes?" I blinked twice and calm down. "What..? Hera's Snakes?" 'The anomaly?' I couldn't make sense of that sentence, so I just stood there, dumbstruck. "Hera's Snakes..? That's the name of the rogue anomaly!" Luca pointed out and I nodded slowly. "Well, well, well," 'I don't like the smile on Romeo's face...' I thought and sweatdropped. "I didn't think it would come to me. I'll get a good price for this."

All of a sudden Romeo charged at me, rifle in hand. "You can pay back Fuji's interest WITH THIS!" I was about to pull out my wand to use Sleepy kiss but for some reason, the veil started attacking?!? "Eh?!" I cried out and stood still while Romeo dodged.

"GYAAAAAAHHH!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! ARE THOSE TENTACLES?! GROSS!!" Kaito exclaimed while Romeo pointed his rifle. "Did you... aim for my face?" I flinched and immidietly shook my head. "N-N-no! This veil just attacked on it's own I swe-" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I CAN'T STAND EXCUSES! SIH!!" Romeo aimed his rifle and this time I grabbed my wand. But as I was about to cast my spell, Luca interrupted, "[IGGNAIM!]" I gasped because Luca was standing in front of me, arms spread wide.

"What..? The trajectory was accurate, the bullet should have hit... Fine. There's more where that came from!" Another gunshot exploded in my ears but... "What..? Why are my bullets disappearing?!" I furrowed my brows and bit my lip. 'Luca... he's using his special skill." I awed. 'This was nothing like the spells in Twisted Wonderland. The only thing close was Floyd's Bind to the Heart.'

The bullet was clearly heading straight towards us. But the instant before it hit Luca, it vanished, as though swallowed by some invisible force. Luca then turned around and grabbed my shoulders harshly so I winced. "I'll ask you just once. Did you deceive us?" His sharp, crystal-clear gaze bore into me so I answered honestly. "I'm sorry... But I just picked this veil up by coincidence, I swear..."

'I should have been honest with them sooner... I can't keep wearing something this dangerous even if it means they find out who I am...' I thought and grabbed the veil with both hands and pulled. "... H-Huh?!" I started to panic as I pulled harder. "I-I can't get it off!" Luca gasped and back off. No matter how hard I pulled at it, the veil remained stuck fast to my head. "It's stuck... why won't it come off?!" I questioned myself as I pulled even harder.

"All right. Calm down. I believe you." I looked at Luca with wide eyes. "Luca..." "We need to move away from here first. Then we can do something about that veil." Luca reached out his hand to me, and I placed my trembling palm in his unwavering one. "Thank you." I smiled softly.

"Hey! Are you trying to run?! Hand over Hera's Snakes fi-" "LUCAAAAA!!! HEY!! Why are you holding hands with [Y/n]!?!" I bit my lip as Kaito pushed Romeo out of the way and ran over to us. "Don't you dare run off without me!!! I'M!! HER KNIGHT!! IN SHINING ARMOR!!!!" "Kaito?!" I exclaimed, blushing in embarrassment. "Kaito! I want to go somewhere we can regroup and discuss out next move. Could you lead us there?"

"I was going to! Don't order me around! Follow me, [Y/n]!" Kaito proclaimed and started running so we followed.

But while we ran I looked back at Romeo, feeling a bit bad. "Ouch... Hey!! You think you can escape me that easily?!" But then I turned back. Kaito grabbed my other hand, and the three of us ran back the way we'd come.

"Meow! Meow! Meow! Emergency, emergency. A-6622-1,code name "Hera's Snakes", has escaped containment during transportation. It resembles a black veil. It is aggressive, and can change it's size at will. Presumptive class B. If spotted, please alert a staff member or ghoul student immediately."

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: [ 10 | A Ring?] 『💍』

#𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 #original story #tokyo debunker x reader #twisted wonderland reader

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yuanshenexplorer · 1 year ago

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"Thank You. Signed..."

Pairing : Wriothesley x Neuvillette Warning : Boy x Boy, Angst (at the beginning) This Pov (even if it's more like an one shot) was inspired by « The DJ is crying for help » by AJR ! Even if it don't really fit the lyrics X) Number of words : 1 476 (Not too bad, I'd say) Hope you’ll like it ! ^^

A subdued light filtered through the few gaps left by the blinds on the closed windows of his home, barely illuminating this room of scattered belongings, unmade bed, and where a dark silhouette stood in a fetal position. He had hidden his face between his arms and, behind a cascade of white hair, was holding back tears. The rain was falling hard outside, as if echoing Neuvillette's malaise, reduced to a huddled, shabby-looking form. In front of him, crumpled and sometimes torn leaves were spread out. A malevolent reminder, circling him like a vulture in front of a carcass.

Another day's work over. Again.

A day worthy of hell. A day of incessant mockery, disgusted glances, sickening insults. Why so much hate? Why be so angry with him? He hadn't done them any harm… Or had he… Maybe once he'd made them suffer…

When the truth had hit their discomfited faces, a truth that disgusted many. This way of being, this attraction, perhaps too different from the others, had upset his way of working. Neuvillette couldn't take it anymore. A tear rolled down his pale cheek, and a bolt of lightning tore the sky in response. In a rush, almost madness, he lunged for his table, his only escape. He grabbed his violin, wedged it under his chin and, without waiting any longer, began to play his heart out. He poured streams of emotion onto those strings.

Surely he'll be receiving complaints the next day.

Surely someone will be banging on the walls, yelling at him to stop. But for once, he wanted to let go. No matter the insults, no matter what will happen tomorrow.

Tonight, he was letting himself go.

Only much later did his instrument stop emitting melancholy wails. When the storm outside stopped roaring, and the rain had finished flooding the streets and accumulating his sorrows. He had no strength left. His energy had been drained, by this rain, by the sounds of his violin, now resting in its place.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his room, his ears still ringing with the shrill melodies of his instrument. And so, his face framed by his tangled white locks, his cheeks still red from crying, his eyes itching uncomfortably, he fell asleep, praying for a better day.

The next day was no exception to the rule: he woke abruptly, torn from the comforting world of dreams by a violent pounding on his door.

When he opened the door, his face half asleep, his hair a mess, his elegant figure cowering like a defenseless animal, his imposing form looking shabby.

He had a moment of total incomprehension, why hit his door with such force?

Oh…

His violin…

"Would it be possible not to have to endure your music for a week?"

Of course… He must have expected it.

Neuvillette looked at him neutrally. The face of his apartment neighbor came to him like a blurred face, with distorted contours. His constricted throat refused to let out the slightest sound.

Yet he had to apologize. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"If this keeps up, I'll have to report you. You're annoying everyone with your racket."

His gray, storm-sky gaze darkened. Was he going to be homeless too? That was condemning him to a slow death without comfort.

As he forced himself, his throat tugging at him to try to get out just simple words, a door opened beside them, accompanied by a disgruntled growl.

"What's all that noise?"

An imposing man with tousled hair stepped out of his apartment, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. His sharp eyes glared at the man with the deafening complaints.

"Isn't there any way we can have a quiet morning? I don't need anyone yelling, people yell enough at my work."

His gaze turned to Neuvillette, who was watching him with a worried expression. He too was about to get angry with him. They'd both gang up on him. It was all over.

Yet his neighbor's icy blue eyes only stared at him for a brief moment. A gleam seemed to ignite them for a moment.

What was he waiting for to get angry too?

Did he want him to feel guilty too?

Yet, contrary to what they'd all hoped, for once, Neuvillette didn't blame himself. He wasn't sorry.

So he maintained the contact between them, without flinching, even though his eyes betrayed his mental weakness.

Suddenly, the man with the jet-black mane let out a simple puff of his nose, which for once didn't sound like mockery.

"Nice music last night. Personal composition?"

The man with the long white hair blinked. He'd imagined every conceivable scenario, but what about this one?

He hadn't expected it at all.

"T…Thanks…?"

His voice came to him like a squeak, as if he were regaining the use of speech after years without speaking.

When he looked more than a little surprised, the man next to him could only smile in amusement. His gaze went cold, however, as he turned his head towards the other man, who remained frozen.

"To what do I owe the honor of these unpleasant cries on a Saturday morning?"

The man said nothing, stammering inaudible words.

"No longer able to say anything?

He sighed, crossing his arms.

-Let the poor guy decompress from his days, he's got a right to have passions, hasn't he?

-Y-Yes, but…

-You're the only one it bothers. I don't get the impression you really thought about our sleeping hours when you had the music cranked up on your speakers."

Surely out of arguments, the man turned away from his two neighbors, and left, uttering a string of expletives. The man with the icy eyes sighed, resting one shoulder against the wall.

"We shouldn't hear too much more about it in a while.

-Thank you...

-That's a lot of thanks for me," the man pointed out, smirking.

Neuvillette froze slightly. It was true that it had been a long time since he had thanked anyone else.

"You'd better believe I'm in a good mood��" surmised the white man.

-Even after being woken up by such an energetic fellow?" the other pointed out, frowning.

-I guess so… Sorry to have woken you up."

The man chuckled.

Neuvillette suddenly felt nostalgic. It was the first time in a long time that a man had laughed with him and not at him. He'd missed that feeling.

"I was already awake a long time ago, unlike you."

The white man blinked in surprise. The dark-haired man straightened up, his eternal smile pasted to his thin lips.

"On that note…

He turned around.

-I hope to hear you play the violin again soon."

And so he left, waving politely. Unconsciously, Neuvillette followed him with his eyes, attracted by that rebellious hair and soothing aura, which had made his troubles disappear, leaving him in a torrent of nostalgia and well-being - a sensation he'd really missed.

He smiled. Sincerely. Before gently closing the door of his apartment, he headed for his bedroom, glancing at his violin, before cleaning himself up and dressing comfortably for the weekend.

As he dried his hair, enjoying the gentle rubbing of the soft bath towel, he was startled by the unusual sound of his doorbell.

His gray eyes narrowed in concern. Usually, disgruntled neighbors didn't bother to use it, preferring to pound on the door with their fists, even if it meant threatening to damage it.

So he was surprised to hear this high-pitched but gentle sound, instead of the usual deafening crash.

He hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, Neuvillette opened his door, softly, with distrust.

He was astonished, once he'd opened the door wide, to not notice anyone. His foot stumbled over something, and the sound of a bag being crumpled reached him.

He looked down, only to see a white plastic bag and a can of cold tea, where a post-it note had been stuck.

He picked up the package, absently, and picked up the paper on which someone had jotted down a few words in hasty handwriting.

"Every storm needs a clearing. Wriothesley."

Neuvillette remained standing, the can of cold tea in his hand, ignoring the drops wetting his hand, and the cold metal beginning to spread in his palm.

His mind had understood who had dropped off this intriguing gift, and this little message which, to the man with the violin, appeared as words of encouragement.

He returned to his house, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote a message of his own.

He went outside, delighted with his message, and stuck it on his ebony-haired neighbor's ringtone, his smile never leaving his lips.

"Thank you. Neuvillette."

A single thought occurred to him as he closed the door of his apartment, his heart light and his soul relaxed.

Decidedly, that was a lot of thanks for one man.

*** Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version) *** (because I'm not qualified enough to write an entire POV by myself X) Sorry if there are mistakes :')) Just a question, am I the only one who is absolutely obsessed with this ship ? ;-; Have a nice day and thank you for reading this ! ^^

#Wriolette #Wriothesley #Neuvillette #Wriothesley x Neuvillette #Modern Au #fanfiction #POV #Genshin Impact

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pentuppen · 6 months ago

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I'm still alive!!!

Figured I'd go ahead and give you guys a sneak peek of one of the stories I'm currently working on. It's a compilation of short stories (around 30-50 pages per story) that I hope to put together and see what kind of magic happens.

It sucks that I don't have time to continue my fics at the moment, but hopefully this will tide a few people over before everyone's hyperfixation switches to dragon age lol.

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

Fuck it, he thought to himself. Loud it is.

Four rifles thundered in unison, filling the tiny room with an acrid sulfur smell that almost reminded him of home. Four voices clamored in panic when he didn't stop moving and instead lunged forward and grabbed the first soldier with a hand large enough to palm his whole face. He could feel the man trying to fumble the rifle between them as the continents of his skull suddenly fractured and split themselves into independent islands of pain beneath squeezing fingers. He threw the first man aside, snatching up the rifle of the soldier behind him and driving his fist through his chest. He moved fast enough that the soldier’s ribs barely had time to graze his knuckles before his spine erupted from the middle of his back.

The butt of a rifle struck his temple several times as he pulled his dripping fist free. Ezra turned to glare at the third soldier who appeared almost demented in his pointless effort to put him down and put him down fast. He watched the man’s fear bulge from his eyes when he turned his head and felt the twitch of that hated connection, right before the soldier became a pillar of screaming agony and flame. The remaining soldier had enough sense to back up a few steps before throwing aside his gun and falling to his knees, though much of that sense fell away when he closed his eyes, rapidly stammering out a prayer over tightly clasped hands.

If God were ever inclined to assist this particular specimen of human waste, and Ezra highly doubted it, it would only be in the sense that his death came quickly. His body was obliterated between the rough rock walls and a heavy filing cabinet that Ezra shoved across the room with all the force of a charging bull. The metallic clang of its impact was soon joined by the blare of an alarm that wound itself up into a full throated yell, alerting the rest of the compound. He didn’t even stop to check the guards for keys to the door cutting off Wagner’s dungeon from the rest of the facility.

As more heavy booted feet pounded towards him, the door blew outwards, tearing off its hinges and colliding with another group of soldiers. Those who avoided being flattened by several pounds of sandwiched steel, suddenly found themselves frantically beating at sapling flames that crawled across their flesh and rooted themselves to become a flourishing inferno. Ezra ignored the flames which did little more than tickle his flesh as he passed through them, shrugging off the charred hands that tried to reach out for him.

He was getting in his stride now.

His terrible momentum took him around a corner as he rolled up his sleeves and began to whistle the opening bars of the 1812 overture. The song was paused when the skinny woman in the lab coat half stumbled into the corridor from one of the side rooms. Her rage was a pyroclastic flow of screamed oaths that promised to lay him in pieces at the feet of her beloved reich. Her declarations were reinforced by the open black eye of a ruger, punctuating every manic threat with a loud report, propelling her hate on the wind of each bullet as she backed up down the corridor.

It wasn’t that he minded being shot in particular, his body rejected the bullets much like an oilskin coat will reject the rain. But he did find himself disappointed in the stupidity of continuing to put holes in his chest and face despite all evidence that this did not work. By the time the woman finally came to the same conclusion, her fingers were caught in his grip, almost breaking around the butt of the gun as he slowly forced her hand to raise itself and the gun to her temple.

Some of that zealous fervor fell from her eyes as he smiled down at her, her thin lips trembling before she grit her teeth and pulled the trigger. The dry click from the emptied gun was the last thing she heard before a blow from his hand drove its barrel through the side of her skull. She fell limp and twitching to the floor, and the overture continued, as he stepped over her to get to the door at the end of the hall.

The whistled tune preceded his descent down concrete steps that fed into the bunker that had been dug and walled off below. He’d say one thing for the Nazi’s, they were efficient at setting things up on the fly. The bunker was no shoddy affair of mud and timber struts. The walls were concrete and the floor tiled, the electric lights strung along the walls barely flickering as he made his way, unaccosted for now.

The next ten minutes were a lesson of the kind of barbarity that even the devil himself would wince at. It wasn’t the gore or the clear mistreatment that had been visited on the creatures he found in cells and laid out on tables that offended him. It was the negligent abundance and lack of any art to it. Every soul was specially catered to in the hells he came from. Admittedly it was their eternal damnation and torture that was catered to, but every soul received its due respect and attention.

Warner played with his toys with the same mindset of a small boy who took apart the toaster just to see what was inside. It was a waste.

Before he came to the steel bulkhead door behind which he was sure his quarry lay, Ezra came upon only one person with enough left in them to look alive. She was barely recognizable as a human, let alone a woman. The face that peered up at him from the filthy palette on the floor was half melted by a collection of sores that had been left to fester and run together. Only her eyes gave her anything near a human appearance, eyes as blue as the underside of an iceberg. She could barely lift her head and he could practically feel the fever of her afflictions baking off her body.

There was little time for small mercies, but he still bent at the knees and took that swollen disfigured face in his hands. He watched those blue eyes fill with tears that were almost certainly for the ruin he must see when he looked at her. Sores broke under even the lightest pressure of his hands, and yet he still bent and pressed a lovers kiss to her uneven mouth. He tasted the bitterness of her diseases and smelled the long death that awaited her as those lips continued to tremble against his own.

The last thought in the young woman’s head was the thrill of her first kiss at 15 years old. She smelled the evocative scent of sheeps wool and camphor, and died in an old lover's arms when Ezra quickly and humanely snapped her neck.

He couldn’t really explain why he chose to do this, it certainly didn’t give him a warm and fulfilling feeling to end her suffering. Nor would he say that this mercy or the countless others he might take it upon himself to commit, wiped any of the long years of blood from his hands. If pressed he would simply shrug and say that some things simply had to be done.

#my writing #original story

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