#EX Frozen City

[cyanremalia]

i made something stupid while losing to ex frozen city gv

it also comes in a clearer variant for reduced coping

[ikiprian]

Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

[hanniebaeee]

All I want for Christmas

Chris Bang x fem!reader

Warnings: some tears and making out

Genre: almost exes to lovers, angst, fluff

Summary: You and Chris are on the verge of a break up, but then, it's Christmas. And there's some magic in the air.

a/n: Merry Christmas everyone 💕 Love you all, and I can't thank you guys enough for all the love and support. Lots of love and wishes for the New year from me✨

The freezing December air bit at your cheeks as you stepped onto the rooftop of your apartment building. One of your neighbors, Jimin, handed you a cup of mulled wine, and you accepted with a smile. Your fingers wrapped tightly around the mug tightly, your eyes taking in the sight around you. 

The party was in full swing - warm fairy lights strung across the rooftop, some of older women decorating gingerbread men. A beautiful Christmas tree gleamed in the center, but none of it reached you.

Your eyes darted around the crowd, searching for just one face. 

Chris.

Your chest ached at the thought of him. It had been weeks since you last spoke. Since that disastrous fight. You'd both said things you didn't mean. It was just a poor way of shielding your own hearts from being hurt.

You loved him. God, you loved him. But sometimes love wasn’t enough. Or maybe…it was just too much.

You sighed and sipped your drink, leaning against the railing, letting the city lights blur your thoughts. And then, you felt it before you saw him. That quiet pull.

There he was.

Chris stood at the far end of the rooftop, near the makeshift stage, surrounded by kids. 

He looked good. Too good. In that beautiful grey coat and pants, and that crisp white shirt that you loved so much on him. But his eyes - they were rimmed with dark circles, hollow in a way that absolutely shattered your heart.

You turned away, your breath hitching. How was it possible to miss him this much, when he's standing right there in front of you?

“Alright, alright, gather ‘round!” someone announced, pulling your attention to the stage.

The kids had taken seats on the front row, giggling with excitement. And then, Chris stepped forward to the mic, with a guitar in hand. And his eyes met yours, and your heart stopped.

“Settle down, settle down,” he told the kids, with a gentle smile on his face, his voice a little rough around the edges.

And then his eyes met yours once again, as he started to sing. 

Silent night, holy night…

The world faded. His voice was like warm honey, dripping with emotion, so achingly tender, like he was pouring every ounce of himself into the song. You stood frozen, his voice wrapping around your chest, squeezing tight until tears pricked your eyes.

Towards the end of the song, you couldn’t take it anymore. Blinking rapidly, you slipped away, setting your mug down on a nearby table and heading for the stairwell.

You didn’t make it far.

Sinking onto the cold steps, you buried your head in your hands, shoulders trembling as sobs wracked your body.

“Y/N.”

The voice was breathless, and you looked up to see him standing there, his chest rising and falling like he’d run after you. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his eyes, wide, desperate.

“Chris, I…”

He didn’t let you finish. He sat on the step near you, his hands cupping your face as he leaned in close, his forehead brushing yours.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I can’t be without you. I know I screwed up, I know things are messy, but…please. Don’t let this be the end. I need you, baby.”

You swallowed hard, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Chris, it’s not that simple. We keep hurting each other.”

“I’ll fix it,” he said, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “Whatever it takes. I’ll fix it, because I love you more than anything. Please, just…don’t give up on us. Don't give up on me…”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered the last of your resolve. You surged forward, your lips crashing into his in a kiss, so desperate but sweet. 

He groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you into his lap as you straddled him on the narrow staircase.

The stairwell was quiet except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of music drifting down from the rooftop. Chris’s hands roamed your back, pulling you as close as he could. Your lips moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and tender, years of love and pent-up longing pouring into every kiss.

“God, I missed you,” Chris whispered against your mouth, his soft wet lips so warm. His thumbs brushed along your jawline. “Missed this. Missed you.”  

“I missed you too,” you admitted, your hands threading into his soft curls. “So much.”  

His lips found yours again, hungrier this time, and you melted into him, your fingers gripping the soft fabric of his shirt. He shifted slightly, leaning back against the wall and pulling you further into his lap. And the heat radiating from his body was enough to make your head spin.  

“Chris…” you murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to look at him. His eyes held a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

“I love you, baby,” he said and tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness.

You pressed your lips to his and he hummed softly, his hands sliding down to your hips, and sliding under the hem of your sweater. His touch was warm, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips slipped down your neck, and you tilted your head to give him better access, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Chris, anyone can just walk by,” you managed to say, your voice tinged with both amusement and desire. 

“And?” he teased, smiling as he nipped lightly at your collarbone.  

You let out a laugh that quickly turned into a sigh as his hands slid higher under your sweater, his thumbs brushing the sides of your ribs. His kisses grew rougher, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you squirm. 

“Okay,” you said breathlessly. “But if Mrs. Park from 3B catches us, I’m blaming you.”

Chris chuckled, his grin boyish and utterly irresistible.

“Fair. But I think she’d just tell us to get married already.” he said, and you stilled, searching his eyes. There was no teasing in his gaze now, just pure love.  

“Too soon?” he asked softly.

“No,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “Not at all.”

With a radiant smile, he kissed you again, slow and deep.

“Come back to me,” he whispered against your lips. “Move back in with me. Let’s fix this. Together.” 

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, tears spilling over. 

“Okay, Channie. Let’s try again.”

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere

Dividers: @strangergraphics

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings

Author's Note: Let me start this by saying I mean absolutely zero disrespect to Hugh's ex wife with this story. I'm just coming up with ideas for chapters and trying to be creative, so please do not hate me for the story. I got this inspiration from a song I'd been listening to, so once again, no disrespect meant for his previous marriage or his ex-wife. This story is pure fiction and just meant to satisfy your need for Hugh Jackman fluff. 

Hugh and I have been friends for many years, despite our age gap of 20+ years. He was married to Debbora Furness and had been for the past 27 years. Our friendship was a platonic one, but we'd always had this strange chemistry. Hugh has been extremely loyal to Deb over the course of their marriage, despite his flirtatious nature. I'd love to tell you that I didn't have a thing for him, but I'd be lying to you. With that being said, I respect his marriage and I know my boundaries, which I'd never cross. 

I was sitting in my hotel room in California, it was coming up on 7pm, the sun starting to slowly sink down producing a beautiful cotton candy sky that could be seen from my suite's balcony that overlooked the city. I was getting ready for a date with a musician, who shall remain unnamed. I heard my phone ring from across the room, walking over and picking it up, expecting it to be my date, I noticed it was Hugh. 

"Hey Hugh, I can't-" I began but was immediately cut off by him sounding frantic, "I really need you right now." He said with a shaky, almost hoarse voice. 

My voice grew concerned, "Is everything okay?"

"Just send me your room number and the name of the hotel. We'll talk there." He said quickly before hanging up. 

What in the actual hell is going on? Did someone die? Is it cancer? I mean what is going on? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I quickly typed out my suite number and hotel into a text and sent it to him. Within minutes I heard a knock on my suite door. I ran up, opening the door to see a disheveled looking Hugh Jackman looking frantic. I quickly pulled him inside my room and he pulled me into a hug. I stood before him frozen in place, slowly wrapping my arms around him. 

"What's going on? Are you okay? Are Oscar and Ava okay? Is Deb-" I began to hit him with rapid fire questions trying to understand what's causing this kind of emotion from the man I'd known to always be so happy, go lucky. He cut me off, "She's gone. Deb's gone." He said, his voice trembling. 

I gasped in shock as my eyes widened, "What? What happened?" I asked, rubbing his back, leading him to the tan leather love seat that sat in the living room area of the suite. I'd never seen him this emotional outside of his acting. 

As we sat on the sofa, he continued holding me as if I were his security blanket. I repeated, "What happened?" causing him to look up at me with broken eyes. 

He covered his face, "She told me she wanted a divorce. She's moving her stuff out of the house and wants to be gone before I get back." I bit my bottom lip in disbelief, "Did she say why?" I asked trying to process what I was being told. 

He took a shaky breath before looking at me, "She says we've fallen out of love and are two different people now that 27 years have gone by. She says we want two entirely different things out of life." 

I shrugged, placing my hand on his knee. "Is she wrong?" I asked softly, looking at him, continuing to tremble with each word he spoke. 

He sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, "She's not wrong." 

I blinked, looking at him, taken back by his response, "What do you mean she's not wrong? What did you do?" 

He took a deep breath and began looking down, refusing to look me in the eyes and began shaking his head. I grabbed his hand, caressing it softly, "What happened, babe? You know I won't judge you. You know after years of confiding in me that you can tell me anything." 

He nodded, wiping a tear from his eyes, still shaking his head as if he were trying to process his own thoughts. He was being extremely cautious with his words. The sound of my phone ringing caused me to almost jump out of my skin. It had to be the guy I was supposed to be meeting tonight. I quickly grabbed my phone, silencing the call and put my attention back on the man that was sitting in front of me. 

He finally looked up at me, "Being married for as long as we were is hard work after awhile, especially when your world stops due to a pandemic and you're forced to actually face the problems in your marriage instead of being away for weeks or months at a time and being able to avoid them." I nodded, allowing him to continue, watching nervously grit his teeth, "I fucked up. I let my emotions get the best of me and instead of envisioning her, I began envisioning someone else. I knew it was wrong, so I stopped and began focusing all of my attention on Deb." 

I looked at him, "Okay, well I mean...That happens. You didn't physically do anything, did you?" I asked, furrowing my brows. 

He shook his head, "No, I didn't. But she knew something was up with me. And now, I can't keep running from it. Deb is a great person, she truly is. But this other person, it's like whenever I'm with them, life suddenly just...makes sense again." He said lowly while staring off into space as if actually saying the words caused him too much pain to admit. 

My phone began ringing again, I quickly grabbed it and answered, "Hey, look I'm sorry. I just had an emergency come up and I'm not going to be able to make it. I hope you understand." I said quickly, Hugh gave me a questioning look, and I knew he was curious as to who I was speaking to or who I had plans with. 

My date was disappointed to say the least, but he understood, so I took that as a chance to end the call. Hugh looked at me, "I shouldn't be here bothering you with this. Go on with your plans."  He sniffled, wiping his face with his head and standing up. 

I grabbed his hand, rolling my eyes, pulling him back down on the sofa, "No, it's okay. So things make more sense when you're with this person?" I asked, he looked at me nodding, but not speaking. "Does she feel the same way?" I asked. 

He shrugged, refusing to keep eye contact with me again, "I don't know if she does or doesn't. But I've been in a marriage that's lacked intimacy and has been more of a friendship arrangement for the past two years. This was not something I planned. I would never cheat on Deb, I just couldn't handle the charade anymore and I'm guessing she felt the same way."  

I wasn't exactly sure what to say anymore as I gazed at him allowing him to continue venting, "I just know that whenever I'm with this person, we can be in a room full of people and it's like they're not there. She makes me feel things that I haven't felt in the longest fucking time." 

I threw my hands up, "Go tell her then. If that's how you feel for this person, go talk to her. Hugh, you are an amazing man. What happened is unfortunate but people grow apart sometimes and there's nothing that can be done about it. You need to go tell this person how you feel." I said softly, giving him a small smile. "So who is it anyways? Is it the girl you're on broad way with? The one the rumor was about? Wasn't her name Sarah or something?" 

"Are you referring to Sutton?" He asked, looking at his hands. 

I nodded, "Yeah, that's her name. Sutton. Is it her?" 

He sat silent for a good two minutes, staring at his hands. There had been articles going around for months about him and his Music Man co-star, Sutton Foster having an affair. I honestly wouldn't be surprised at this point. I knew the effect the pandemic had on his marriage. He tells me literally everything and I've always been there as an ear or eyes for his texts regarding the issues he and Deb dealt with. 

After two minutes of complete silence, he spoke, looking at me, "I have something to tell you." 

I looked up at him with soft eyes, his hazel ones piercing through my soul, "It's Sutton, isn't it?" I asked knowingly. 

He slowly shook his head, "It's not Sutton and no, I didn't have an affair with Sutton." He simply said. 

I chuckled, "Okay, so who is it? It's not Zendaya, is it?" I asked, cringing at the thought of he and Zendaya together. Nothing against Zen, we're friends. But she also knows about the crush I have on my dear friend. 

He looked at cringing himself, "What? No. She's like a daughter to me." He said with a chuckle, "It's you." He said lowly. 

I took a deep breath, "It's me?" 

He looked down at the floor again, "Yeah." He was being short, as if he himself were in disbelief.

I furrowed my brows, "Why?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief of what I was hearing.  

His voice began trembling again as he reached for my hand, interlocking it with his own, "Do you remember when my father died?" He asked, I nodded, "I rang you, and you jumped on a plane to come see me. You spent days going over my lines for The Son with me. That was when I realized it. I rang Deb first. All she could say was that she was sorry. But you, you booked a flight and flew across the world for me. I was in hysterics and you comforted me each time." I took another breath, remembering what had taken place when Hugh's dad passed away on Australia's Father's Day in 2021. 

"I swear to you, I tried. When I got back home, I tried to make those thoughts go away. That's why I distanced myself from you that following year. No matter what I did, no matter what she did, all I could see was you." He spoke honestly, tilting his head slightly, a hitch in his breathing as he continued to look at me, begging me to say anything. 

"I fell in love with you, but I didn't want you to know. I didn't want Deb to know. I didn't want anyone to know, so I tried my fucking bloody damnest to push it out of my head and it only made it more apparent. And I don't know if you feel the same w-" I couldn't take hearing him speak anymore, overwhelmed with emotion, I tightened the grip he had on my hand with my own and sent my lips crashing against his stopping him in his tracks. 

He brought his other hand up, grabbing my chin softly as his brain registered what was happening and began slowly moving his lips against mine. Pulling away, but pressing my forehead against his, as we both kept our eyes shut, I spoke, "I love you." barely above a whisper. I slowly opened my eyes to see his eyes staring into my own, our foreheads still pressed together, "But I didn't want this to happen like this."

I sighed, pulling away, "I don't want to be the reason your marriage ends. I'm not a home wrecker. I've loved you for years, why do you think I flew across the country when your father died and you called me hysterical? But I respect you, I respect Deb and I respect your marriage."

He looked at me, "My marriage ended two years ago. You're not a homewrecker and you did not cause this. Deb and I knew this was coming since the shut down over COVID. We didn't want to divorce for the sake of our children. We've just both gotten to the point where we want different things out of life and have decided for the sake of our happiness to end things. I'm heartbroken because I genuinely do love her as a person, and I did not want things to go the way they have.  But her and I have to find our own happiness and we've realized it wasn't with each other anymore." 

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "It's you. For the last two years, it's been you and you didn't even know it. You did nothing wrong, love."

I sat in silence. I'd worked so hard over the years to keep my feelings to myself and to never cross a boundary. But whenever he called me in tears over his father, I couldn't help myself but to want to be there for support. He needed it and was falling apart at the seams. I don't know why Deb didn't rush to his side. I don't know why all she could say was "Sorry, I'll see you when you get back to New York.". 

His eyes began pleading with me, as he slid off the sofa and onto the floor on his knees in front of me, still holding my hand, now grabbing my other one, "Please say something. Please." 

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, exhaling the deep breath I had been holding, "Just hold me..." was all I could manage to say. 

He nodded, quickly sliding back to his position on the sofa, pulling my body into his chest, "Yeah?...I can do that." The feeling of his arms tightening around me as I sank my head into his chest. 

Where do we go from here?

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

I think it is extremely funny how New Jersey, the state Gotham is located in, is the only state where it's illegal to pump your own gas.

Apparently it's "Because of the fire hazards directly associated with dispensing fuel[...]"

Any Gothamite would be shaking their head at this.

They are used to attacks on Gotham by rogues on a daily basis. Just living in that city puts them at risk for dying in a gruesome way. Fear toxin, Joker Gas, getting frozen in ice, you name it.

But they aren't trusted to pump their own gas?

And the poor gas station attendants.

I bet they judge the supervillains based on how they treat service workers.

You stand at the gas station and Red Hood rolls up?

Yeah, they know him. He's nice. Yeah, they know how he opperates, so what? He bitched with Freya about her ex when they'd just broken up. He gave Alex a good tip when he'd mentioned how he had to work on his birthday.

[space-cowgirllll]

Die With A Smile

Outbreak Day with ex-girlfriend Abby?

a/n: idk what lady gaga and bruno put in this song fr. I should have been studying for an Ochem exam but here we are lol.

"Government officials met today to discuss the recent spikes in hospitalizations all across the globe over the past week, with talks of setting up government run quarantine zones in all major cities." 

You perk up from your spot on the couch, trading the carton of ice cream in your hands for the TV remote. The local newswoman's voice fills the quiet space as the volume increases. You immediately recognize the hospital in the background. 

"Hospital staff everywhere are overwhelmed with the influx of patients coming in with symptoms of this mysterious virus. For the time being it is highly recommended that any travel plans be postponed. International flights have started being cancelled, leaving hundred of people stranded. The CDC advises everyone to remain calm  and continue to follow your city's imposed emergency curfews as they work towards finding the cause." 

The face-mask you'd slathered on earlier hardens as she lists off the symptoms to look out for: sudden mood changes, muscle spasms, and slurred speech. You can't wrap your mind around a simple virus causing all this. Your stomach sinks in realization, this is definitely more serious than anybody was letting on. 

Without even thinking you reach for your phone, quickly scrolling through your contact list until you land on the one person you've been avoiding. Abby, your ex girlfriend of six months. Your finger hovers over her number, wondering if this was worth breaking three months of no contact when loud screams come from the television. You look up just in time to see the blast of an explosion before the screen goes blank. Static stares back you. 

Your finger mashes down on the touchscreen with zero hesitation as you run to the sink, hands desperately scrubbing at your face while you wait for her to answer. You don't even stop to consider you might be blocked. 

Please pick up, please pick up, please.

"Hello?" Abby's panicked voice sounds through the phone. 

"Oh my god Abs. Are you okay?" You ramble. "I just saw the news and I- there was an explosion."

"I had to home to change. " Her voice is shaky, turn signal clicks faintly in the background. "I was still close enough to- OH MY GOD!" The sound of tires screeching drown out Abby's curses. A loud boom sounds off outside, this one feels closer. "I'm....to...you" Is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead.

You throw the phone across the room, a string of curses leaving your mouth. The open window of your living room lets you hear the chaos outside before you can see it. Helicopters fly overhead and sirens sound off in the near distance. One by one, porch lights come on as your neighbors step out of their homes, confusion etched on their faces.

The sound of a door slamming open catches everyone's attention. Out of the corner of your eye you see the outlines of two people moving towards the road. Your neighbor, Claire, yells as her husband chases after her. His movements far too quick and erratic for someone his age. 

Everyone watches in shock as he catches up to her, mouth attacking the side of her neck, effectively silencing her screams. The sight is gory. You stand frozen as some of the braver ones try to help, only to be met with a similar fate before he runs off into the middle of the road, searching for his next victim. Chaos quickly ensues, people run off back to their homes, garages pop open as some try to make a quick escape. You stagger back, knocking into the side table beside the couch. A picture frame falls over, shattering loudly on wood floor.

To your absolute horror, his head snaps to your window. For the first time, you're able to catch a glimpse of him up close. Gone was the sweet old man who would help you with yard work in those first few months after Abby moved out. The skin of his face is molted, almost as if something was eating away at it. Once sparkling blue eyes are completely glazed over. The bloodthirsty look on his face sends you reeling. 

His mouth parts open letting out a loud screech, ready to lunge through the thin window screen when a familiar black truck slams into him. Abby hops out, mouth moving quickly as she shouts something at you. Between the ringing in your ears and the loud screams outside you don't register what she says. Your eyes blink rapidly, hoping the sight of your elderly neighbor under her front tire is just your imagination. In your peripheral you see the front door swing open, Abby's keychain hanging from the lock. 

Strong hands grip you by the shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor. "Baby what are you doing? We have to go!"

Her woodsy scent envelopes you as she scoops you up and carries you out bridal style before tossing you in the passenger seat. Fingers clench into the leather as the truck reverses, disturbing the once perfect lawn. Your flowerbeds and mailbox becoming casualties in the process too. 

You peel your eyes off the dash, looking out the window as she flies through residential neighborhoods. More and more people are starting to trickle out from the safety of their homes. Some running with only the clothes on their backs, others quickly shoving personal belongings in their vehicles. 

Your voice is shaky when you finally speak up. "What's going on Abigail?"

She exhales heavily, looking exhausted. "I don't know."

"Are they all like that?" 

Her jaw clenches. "The ones I've been treating are in the early stages of their symptoms, but beds are full. We've been told to turn people away to recover at home." She huffs. "I don't even wanna know how many of them are out there running around like that."

You hesitantly rub her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, slowly pulling back when she tenses. Her throat clears and the skin of her knuckles turns white as she tightens her grip on the wheel. 

"So what are we doing?"

You're shocked when she shrugs her shoulders. Abby always had a plan. You wrack your brain, trying to think of something. 

"My parent's cabin up north! We could go there." You suggest. "Y'know until everything settles down."

She makes a sharp right, following the signs pointing her to the nearest on ramp. Her fist slams against the wheel when you pull up to the main highway just five minutes later. It seems like everyone had the same idea. Cars are honking, people are screaming. Nobody is moving. The thought of sitting in bumper to bumper traffic right now doesn't sound like a smart idea.

"My apartment's in the city." Abby suddenly states. "They were setting up barricades when I left for work this morning. Flyers talking about a quarantine zone." 

She doesn't wait for your approval, sending the truck speeding towards her place. The closer you get to the city, the more erratic Abby's driving becomes. It's clear your little suburban bubble was late to the news of the outbreak. Downtown Seattle is absolute madness. Everywhere you look there's something happening. Those infected chase people up and down the streets, tackling the ones too slow to outrun them. Shops that you can remember being there your whole life are now ablaze. 

You grip onto the handle above your head watching wide eyed as Abby plows through debris in the street. Bile rises in your throat when you realize she most likely driving over the dead bodies left behind. 

The truck slows to a crawl. Concrete barricades were placed closer together here, making it impossible to get through. She silently curses at the fact that you're gonna have to leave the safety of the car and make the rest of the journey on foot. She grabs your face between her hand, forcing you to look her in the eye.

"Get ready to run baby." 

Your hand is on the handle when something crashes into your door. A scream gets caught in your throat as the infected bangs on the glass of your window before setting it's sights on the blonde. She's halfway out of the truck when she gets tackled to the ground. Her hands shoot out using all her strength to keep it from attacking her 

"Abby!"

She screams at you to run. Her arms are getting tired of holding this ridiculously strong freak back. Her hold is quickly slipping. Accepting her fate she screws her eyes shut bracing for the inevitable. A loud whack and she doesn't realize there's no longer any weight holding her down until your panicked voice is in her ear. 

"Holy fuck! Are you okay?"

You crouch beside her, a bloody metal pipe in your hands. Keeping a watchful eye on the body laying just inches from hers. She slaps your hand away, wincing when she gets up on her own. 

"Why would you do that?!" She whisper yells, unsure whether to kiss you for saving her or punching you for putting yourself in danger. "I told you to run!"

"I could never just leave you like that. You're welcome." You say through labored breaths. With a roll of her eyes she grabs your hand, sprinting in the direction of her building. 

You're thankful it's a short run from the car to her place. The two of you able to successfully hide from any other infected. It doesn't take long for either of you to realize that their vision sucks. 

The stairs up to her place are a feat of its own. You huff and puff up to the nineteenth floor, legs on fire when you finally walk through the door. 

Her apartment is spotless, because of course it is. Floor to ceiling windows give you a clear view of what seems to be the end of the world. 

"Oh my god." You stand in the middle of her room, watching in horror as explosions go off in my the distance. The ground beneath you shakes as they get closer and closer. 

Abby shakes her head in disbelief clearly putting two and two together. 

"It's so heavily populated here. They don't see the point in trying to separate the healthy from the infected." She whispers. Tears well in her eyes watching a plane purposefully fly into the ground off in the distance. The large blast setting fire to everything around it. There are more right behind it. "We're so fucked."

You watch as the fight leave her body. Your throat locks up, unable to scream at her. Wobbly legs pace back and forth in the small space trying to think of something that might work. Deep down you know it's pointless. There's no way you'd make it out of the city alive. Soft sobs wrack your body at the realization that this really is the end. 

Her shoulders slump as she sits on the bed. She gnaws on her lower lip to keep from crying too loud. "Can I hold you?" 

You nod, legs feeling like jelly. Abby reaches for you, pulling you up towards the headboard. The two of you lay beside each other breathing heavily with your hands intertwined. Tears stream down her face and onto the pillow under her head. 

She reaches over and kisses you, her shaking hand plays with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. "My biggest regret was letting you go."

You watch face as she continues talking, lips moving against yours. "I had to stop myself from driving past the house every single day." She laughs. "Would have sat outside your door until you took me back."

"I wish you would have." You admit through a watery smile. 

"I never stopped loving you. I just want you to know that." She whispers, lips moving to kiss your temple. 

"I should have never left." Your lips meet the skin of neck tasting the salty tears that have pooled there. "I love you too Abby. So much it hurts." 

"I can't believe this is what it took for us to realize how stupid we were." She mumbles into your hair. Your face burrows into the crook of her neck. "I'm so sorry baby."

"I'm glad you came for me." You tell her, but you know she doesn't hear it. 

The walls start shaking, sending everything tumbling to the floor. You're no longer able to hear anything over the sound of a loud engine approaching. Her arms tighten around you, the two of you curl into each other. 

There's a jarring beeping in your ear just as it all goes black. 

You shoot up in bed, heart in your throat. The sound of your heavy breathing almost drowns out the harsh beeping of your alarm. Reaching over you rip the cord from the wall sitting in silence for a moment while your heartbeat returns to normal. 

The sun is shining outside, laughter from the kids across the street flows in through the small opening of your window. A lawnmower goes off in the distance.

Shaking hands fist the cool cotton of your sheets. The soft material grounding you. You look around the small room. Everything looks just as you left it. There's an empty bottle of wine on the dresser and you roll your  eyes at yourself. 

That explains it. 

You're okay. 

It was all a dream.

You jump out of bed, rushing to the bathroom before taking the stairs two at a time almost snapping an ankle. The entryway table shakes when you snatch the keys from on top of it. The warm August breeze that hits you when you walk outside makes you feel renewed. 

The quiet neighborhood looks as it always does. A couple of people are out watering their lawns while some head out for church. Claire sits on her front porch drinking a cup of coffee, giving you a little wave when she spots you pulling out of your driveway and it's a miracle you don't burst into tears. Using muscle memory you quickly punch in the number you know by heart, waiting with bated breath for an answer.  "Hello?"Your shoulders drop in relief at the sound of her voice. She's okay.

"Where are you?"

"At home," she pauses "why?"

"Perfect." You hang up before she can reply. Tossing the phone on the passenger seat you press your foot down on the gas. 

You make it to Abby's apartment building in record time, parking haphazardly by the curb. There's a ninety nine percent chance you'll come back to a parking ticket stuck to your windshield but you don't care. 

There's a moment on the elevator ride up to the nineteenth floor where you second guess yourself. Aware of how ridiculous you look in mix matched pajamas going to try and win your ex girlfriend back. You steel your nerves reminding yourself of how horrible those last few seconds of your nightmare were.  If she kicks you out you can at least say you tried. 

Abby answers the door looking mouth watering in a black tank top and gray shorts, her messy hair pulled back in a low bun. "Alright, how many traffic laws did you break on your way over here?"

"You don't wanna know." You pant, throwing yourself into her arms. 

She catches you with a soft grunt, hesitating for a second before wrapping her arms around you. The familiar scent of pine engulfs you.  

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" Her teasing tone makes your face heat up. "I don't think random house visits on a Sunday at 8 AM fall under no contact." She quips. 

"I love you!" The words are out before you can stop yourself. "I love you and I don't want to go another day without letting you know that walking away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I regret it every single day."

Abby leans back against the door with her hands still on your hips. There's a tiny grin on her face watching you spill your guts, you’re too worked up to notice. "I know we're both at the peak of our careers. I know we're busy, and there will be days we don't even get to see each other, but I'm tired of living like this. I miss you." 

You sniffle pathetically into her chest. "The world could end tomorrow and I don't want to regret never telling you how I felt." Thumbs wipe gently at your tears. "And if you don't feel the same way I underst- mmph!"

Her lips meet yours in a soft kiss, hands wandering under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your back. Neither of you make a move to deepen it, content to take it slow.

Abby pulls back first. Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she stares down at you. It suddenly hits you how much you've missed her. She brings her forehead to rest against yours. 

"Took you long enough baby."

[meadowfics]

lost island, found love

hwang jun-ho x female!reader

warnings: descriptions of death, guns, angst, i added reader's background that was not in this request but I felt like it could bring jun-ho and reader together! i am not responsible for the content you choose to read.

word count: 4013

you stand in the dimly lit room, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air. the body of the salesman lies slumped against the wall, lifeless, his once smug face frozen in a grimace. your fingers tremble slightly as you lower your gun, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

mr. kim is gone, killed by this salesman who now lies dead in front of you. 

gi-hun’s frantic voice echoes in your memory…his desperation when he begged you to find answers, to bring justice in order to get money. now, with the salesman gone, the trail feels cold.  

you don’t want to be here. not anymore. not with everything else hanging over your head like a storm cloud. hana is missing. your little sister, your only family left in the world. you’ve scoured every corner of the city, turned over every rock, but nothing. no sign of her. she wouldn’t just disappear. not her. not without a word.  

“we don’t have time for this,” a voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and impatient.  

you glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting the man who’s been reluctantly dragged into this mess with you..jun-ho. a police officer, driven, stubborn, and entirely too by-the-book for your taste. 

he leans against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.  

“gi-hun’s been taken to the island,” he continues, his tone clipped. 

“those people with the masks, they don’t wait around. if we don’t move fast, we’ll lose the trail.”  

you grit your teeth, your mind warring between two equally impossible choices. find the island where gi-hun is being held, or keep searching for hana. it feels cruel, having to pick one over the other.  

“you think i don’t know that?” you snap, your voice harsher than you intended.  

jun-ho doesn’t flinch. he crosses his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding. 

“then let’s go. unless you’ve got another plan?”  

you hate him a little in that moment. his calmness. his ability to compartmentalize. you can’t do that. not when every step you take feels like a betrayal of your sister. you know he’s right. if you don’t act now, gi-hun’s fate is sealed.  

“fine,” you mutter, shoving past him. 

“but don’t get in my way.”  

he follows without a word, and for a while, the only sounds are your footsteps echoing through the empty streets. the weight of your gun presses against your hip, a constant reminder of what this life has turned you into.  

jun-ho finally breaks the silence. 

“why’d you take this job?”  

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t answer.  

“because someone had to,” you say finally, your voice low.

“gi-hun deserved that much after everything he’s been through.”  

jun-ho nods, but you can feel his eyes on you, studying, prying. you don’t offer more. not about mr. kim. not about hana. not about the hollow ache in your chest that refuses to go away.  

the journey ahead feels impossibly long, but you push forward, each step heavier than the last. you don’t know if you’ll ever find the answers you’re looking for.. about gi-hun, about hana, about yourself. but for now, all you can do is keep moving.  

the next morning.. you’re in the small boat with a bunch of your ex-special forces mates.. gently rocking on the light waves, the rhythmic lapping of water against the hull doing little to calm the storm in your mind. 

there is a map spread out on the bench in front of you that feels more like a cruel joke than a guide. you’ve traced every possible route, every last scrap of information gi-hun left behind, but it’s like the island doesn’t exist.  

even though jun-ho insists that the island is a real place, and that he has been there too.

“anything?” jun-ho’s voice breaks through the silence, rough from hours of tension. he’s standing at the bow, one hand resting on the edge, the other gripping his radio.  

you don’t answer immediately, your eyes scanning the coordinates again, hoping something will click. the frustration is mounting. you’re used to solving problems quickly, decisively. in the special forces, there was no room for hesitation or failure. 

now, every passing hour feels like a countdown to losing gi-hun forever.  

“no,” you finally mutter, shoving the map aside. 

“it’s like they’ve erased the damn place off the face of the earth.”  

jun-ho exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the cracks forming. five days. that’s all the time you have before the trail goes completely cold, and neither of you can afford to waste another second.  

“we’re missing something,” he says, turning to face you. 

“they wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to make the island impossible to find. there has to be a way in. some clue we’re overlooking.”  

you lean back against the bench, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. your mind races through everything you’ve learned so far, piecing together fragments of intel like a puzzle.  

“it’s not just about the location,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“they’ve got to have a system. patterns. supply routes. something that gives them away.”  

jun-ho nods, stepping closer. 

“you think we’re being followed?”  

you glance up at him, narrowing your eyes. the thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, but it makes sense. an operation this big wouldn’t just let two random people snooping around go unnoticed.  

“probably,” you admit. 

“which means we’re running out of time faster than we thought.”  

he frowns, his jaw tightening. 

“great. so, we’re sitting ducks out here.”  

you pull your handgun from its holster, checking the magazine out of habit. 

“not exactly. i’m not going down without a fight.”  

jun-ho smirks faintly, though the tension never leaves his eyes. 

“you really are a piece of work, you know that?”  

“and you’re irritating,” you shoot back, sliding the gun back into place.

“guess we make a great team.”  

hours later.. the sun dips lower into the horizon, casting long shadows across the boat’s deck. the waves lap gently against the sides of the boat, though it does little to calm your racing thoughts.  

you glance over at jun-ho, standing near the bow with his hands gripping the edge. the man’s posture is tense, his shoulders squared as if bracing against some invisible weight. 

he hasn’t said much in hours, and you can’t help but notice the way his eyes flick toward the horizon and back, as though searching for something..or avoiding something.  

breaking the silence, you clear your throat. 

“you said you’ve been on this island before,” you start, your voice low but firm. 

“what did you find? if you don’t mind me asking.”  

jun-ho doesn’t turn to face you. his knuckles whiten against the edge of the boat, and his jaw tightens. the way his body stiffens tells you more than his silence does. he’s holding something back.  

“it’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his voice tight.  

you frown, stepping closer. 

“complicated how?”  

he finally turns his head, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before looking away. 

“it’s not something i like talking about.”  

jun ho’s answer frustrates you, but you bite back the sharp retort sitting on the tip of your tongue. you don’t have time for vague responses, not when every passing hour feels like another nail in the coffin for gi-hun..or worse, for hana who you could be looking for instead.  

“look,” you say, trying to keep your tone measured, “if we’re going to do this together, i need to know what we’re up against. whatever you saw, whatever you know, it could be the difference between us finding gi-hun or walking into a trap.”  

the police officer’s gaze drops to the deck, and for a moment, he says nothing. the sound of the waves fills the void, each crash amplifying the weight of his silence.  

“i saw the frontman,” he says finally, his voice barely audible.  

“wha- huh? the frontman?” you repeat, confused.  

he nods, his eyes still fixed on the deck. 

“he’s the one running the show, the man in charge of the island…i never got a good look at him. he always wore a mask but he nearly killed me.”  

the tension in your chest tightens like a coil. this new piece of information does little to ease your anxiety. did gi-hun know about this?

“that’s it?” you press, your frustration bleeding into your voice. 

“you didn’t see anything else?”  

jun-ho hesitates, his jaw clenching as if debating whether or not to say more. 

“no,” he says after a moment, but the hesitation in his tone sets off alarms in your head.  

“what aren’t you telling me?” you ask, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing.  

“nothing,” he snaps, a little too quickly.  

you don’t believe him, but you let it go for now. pushing him won’t get you the answers you need, and you can feel your own nerves fraying with every passing second.  

your thoughts drift, unbidden, to hana. the anxiety creeps in like a shadow, wrapping around your chest and squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. 

where is she? is she safe? the thought of her being hurt..or worse..makes your stomach churn.  

jun-ho’s voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts. 

“what’s your other problem?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost hesitant. 

“you mentioned it before, but you didn’t tell me what it was.”  

you hesitate, your fingers twitching at your sides. you’ve kept this to yourself for days, carrying the weight of it alone because you didn’t think anyone else would understand. but now, standing here with jun-ho, you feel the tiniest crack in your resolve.  

“it’s my sister,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.  

jun-ho’s brow furrows, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“your sister?”  

you nod, swallowing hard. 

“her name’s hana. she went missing a few days ago. no note, no sign of where she might’ve gone. we don’t have money and our parents died a few years ago, so it’s not like she could’ve just left on her own. she wouldn’t do that. she wouldn’t just disappear.”  

jun ho’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face… his hands clench at his sides, he looks as though he’s reliving a memory he’d rather forget.  

“maybe your sister is on the island too,” he mumbles, almost to himself.  

the words hit you like a slap. your head snaps up, your eyes widening. 

“excuse me?”  

he hesitates, his gaze dropping. 

“there’s something you need to know,” he says quietly, his voice weighed down by something heavy.  

you don’t say anything, your stomach twisting into knots as he sits down on the bench and motions for you to join him. you hesitate for a moment before sitting beside him, the tension between you almost unbearable.  

“the island,” he begins, his tone measured but laced with something darker, “isn’t just a place. it’s a... game. a series of games, actually. people are brought there, and they’re forced to compete. if they win, they get an obscene amount of money. if they lose...”  

he trails off, but you don’t need him to finish. the implication is clear, and it makes your blood run cold.  

“you’re telling me it’s some kind of... death game?” you whisper, your voice trembling.  

he nods grimly. 

“exactly that… and if your sister is there...”  

you don’t let him finish. you can’t. the thought is too unbearable. if hana is on that island, then every second counts.  

“did she leave anything behind?” jun-ho asks, his voice gentler now.  

you shake your head, your mind racing. 

“nothing. no clues, no messages. just... gone.”  

you feel something on your left hand and you look down to see that his hand brushes yours, tentative but steady. you glance at him, startled by the contact, but his expression is soft, almost reassuring. 

“we’ll find her,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.  

for a moment, you don’t respond. the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice..it’s almost too much to bear.  

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion.  

the two of you sit there in silence as the moon rises above the ocean, casting its pale light over the water. without thinking, you lean against him, your head resting lightly on his chest. he stiffens at first but then relaxes, his arm brushing around your shoulders in a way that feels deliberate.  

“we’ll figure this out,” he says again, his voice steady now.  

you nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment. the closeness between you feels... safe. like you’re not alone in this, even if it’s just for a night.  

by the time the sun rises, the moment is over. the vulnerability, the quiet intimacy.. it’s gone, replaced by the sharp focus of the mission ahead. neither of you mention it, but something unspoken lingers in the air, a bond forged in shared fears and quiet confessions.  

four days. that’s all you have left. 

in the early afternoon.. the boat slows as it approaches the shoreline. you grip the semi-automatic rifle in your hands, its familiar weight a comfort despite the unease settling in your chest. 

the island looms ahead, shadowed and uninviting, with dense foliage lining the shore and no sign of life beyond the eerie stillness.  

jun-ho steps off the boat first, his movements precise and calculated. the police officer’s handgun is holstered at his side as he holds the bigger automatic in his hands, his posture is straight. 

you follow, your boots crunching softly against the gravel as you step onto the narrow path ahead. the rest of the team falls in line behind you, their weapons raised, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.  

jun-ho turns to face the group, his expression stern.

“i’ll take point,” he says firmly, his gaze meeting yours briefly before moving on.  

“i can lead,” you interject, your voice steady but firm.  

“no?” you say. 

“yes.” he protests. 

“well, mr. policeman– were you in the special forces or is this you saying that you do not tru-” 

“let me just protect you, okay?” he says your name after. jun ho is clear. he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. 

the words catch you off guard, a warmth creeping into your chest despite the gravity of the situation. your grip on the rifle tightens as you search for something to say, but all you manage is a curt nod.  

“fine,” you mutter, falling into step behind him.  

the trail is narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. bushes and vines press in from both sides, the occasional rustle of leaves setting your nerves on edge. jun-ho’s steps are deliberate, his eyes constantly scanning the path ahead, while you cover his back, your weapon at the ready.  

you clear your throat, your voice low. 

“everything look okay up there?”  

he glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “so far,” he replies, his tone clipped but calm.  

the tension between you hums like a live wire, unspoken words lingering in the air. it’s not just the situation..it’s him. the way he moves, the way he keeps glancing back at you, as if he’s making sure you’re still there.  

you push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. the gravel crunches beneath your boots as the trail twists and turns, the thick canopy overhead blocking out most of the sunlight. the rest of the team moves in a tight formation, their weapons raised, their eyes darting to every shadow.  

“trail’s too clean,” you mutter under your breath, your gaze sweeping the ground. 

“like it’s been used recently.”  

jun-ho nods, his jaw tightening. 

“I noticed.”  

you glance at him, your brows furrowing. 

“so, what’s the plan if this is a setup?”  

he doesn’t answer right away, his focus on the path ahead. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and deliberate. 

“we deal with it. we’ve gotten this far.”  

jun ho’s confidence is steadying, even if you don’t entirely share it. you scan the surrounding foliage, the weight of the rifle in your hands grounding you.  

the gravel path suddenly widens, opening into a small clearing. jun-ho raises his hand, signaling for everyone to stop. the group freezes, weapons raised, as his sharp eyes scan the area.  

“what is it?” you ask, stepping closer to him.  

he gestures to the far side of the clearing, where another trail picks up. 

“it splits. two paths.”  

your stomach tightens. splitting up isn’t ideal, but staying bunched together could make you an easy target.  

“we should split into two groups,” jun-ho says, his voice calm but authoritative. 

“cover more ground.”  

you hesitate, glancing at him. 

“are you sure about that? we don’t know what’s out here.”  

“that’s why we keep communication tight,” he replies, his gaze locking with yours. 

“stay close to your group. and don’t take risks.”  

“fine,” you say again, your voice softer this time.  

as the group splits, you end up with jun-ho, a decision that seems less about strategy and more about his insistence on staying close to you. you can feel the others’ eyes on you, their curiosity unspoken but palpable.  

the new trail is narrower, the overgrowth pressing in from both sides. jun-ho keeps his pace steady, his shoulders brushing against yours occasionally as the path twists and turns. the silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken tension.  

finally, he breaks it. 

“you okay back there?”  

“i can handle myself,” you reply, a touch of defensiveness in your tone.  

he glances at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. 

“i know. doesn’t mean i won’t worry.”  

the warmth from earlier returns, stronger this time. you focus on the path ahead, unwilling to let him see how his words affect you.  

twelve hours later.. in the middle of the night in the lounge area, you feel suffocated. even with the boat’s attempt at cozy decor. the low hum of the boat engine is drowned out by the relentless patter of rain against the windows. 

you sit on the worn-out couch, staring blankly at the table in front of you. the rain, usually a source of comfort, does nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside you.  

you feel defeated. empty.  

the mission on the island earlier had led to nothing. the island turned out to be nothing more than a small, desolate beach. no inhabitants. no clues. nothing. 

three days left, and it felt like you were running out of time faster than you could grasp.  

your chest tightens as your thoughts drift to hana. after losing your parents, she was the only person who made life bearable. she kept you grounded, gave you a purpose and a source to keep surviving after leaving the special forces. when mr. kim introduced you to gi-hun, you found a new sense of direction, but hana? hana was always home, and now she is gone.  

your eyes sting, and before you know it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. you wipe at them angrily, frustrated at yourself for breaking down when you should be focusing. however, the thought of your sister..alone, scared, maybe hurt or worse..it’s too much.  

“why would she do this?” you whisper to the empty room, your voice trembling. 

“why would she risk her life for money?”  

your hands tremble as they clench into fists on your lap. you know the answer. it was always about survival, about getting out of the hole life had thrown you both into. hana didn’t know the cost. she didn’t know about the games, about the killings. 

she didn’t know that the promise of wealth came with the risk of ending up in a coffin on some forgotten island.  

a sob escapes your lips, and you bury your face in your hands, the weight of it all crashing down. the fear, the hopelessness, the anger.. it spills out in ragged breaths and muffled cries.  

you don’t notice the quiet footsteps until you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm, soft chest on the couch.  

“it’s okay,” jun-ho’s voice is soft, steady, grounding. 

“we’ll find her.”  

you stiffen at first, caught off guard by his presence, but his hand moves up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, and you let yourself lean into him.  

“i don’t know...” you choke out, your voice breaking. 

“i don’t know if we can.”  

jun-ho pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. his eyes are filled with something you don’t expect.. understanding.  

“i lost my brother many years ago,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that matches your own.  

you blink, your tears pausing for a moment. 

“your brother?”  

he nods, his gaze distant. 

“he disappeared without a trace. for years, i didn’t know what happened to him. i thought he was dead. then, when i found him... he wasn’t the same.”  

you can see the pain etched into his features, the weight of a story he hasn’t told anyone else.  

“but you know what?” he continues, his voice growing firmer. 

“i still went after him because he was my brother.. because that’s what you do for your family. and that’s what we’re going to do for your sister. we’re going to find hana. we’re going to find gi-hun, and we’re going to end this.”  

jun ho’s words wrap around you like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral of despair. you don’t know how he does it.

you don’t say anything, but you shift closer to him, burying your face in his chest again. the policeman’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he’s the only thing keeping you together.  

as the rain continues to fall outside, the world beyond the boat fades away. all you can feel is the warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his presence anchors you.  

after a while, you sit up, wiping at your tear-streaked face. jun-ho reaches out, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. the tenderness of the gesture sends a shiver through you.  

“you’re way stronger than you think,” he says softly, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.  

your eyes meet his, and something shifts in the air between you. the tension that’s been building over the past few days comes to a head, and before you can think twice, you lean in.  

the moment your lips meet his, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. the man’s left hand cups your cheek and his right hand grabs your lower waist, pulling you closer, and you feel the weight of his kiss. 

he kisses you back with a quiet dominance, his other hand resting on your waist, holding you steady. it’s not just a kiss…it’s a promise. a promise that he’s here, that he’ll protect you, that you’re not alone.  

your hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to reality. the rain pounds against the windows, the boat rocking gently with the waves, but all you can focus on is him.  

when you finally pull back, your breaths are heavy, your foreheads resting against each other. his eyes search yours, and you see the same vulnerability reflected back at you.  

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady.  

you nod, your fingers brushing against his jaw. 

“together.”  

he kisses you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. and for the first time in days, you feel a spark of hope reignite in your chest.  

outside, the rain continues to fall, the boat drifting along the waves. somewhere out there is the island you’ve been searching for, the answers you desperately need. 

for now, at this moment, all you can think about is the strong man holding you and how his lips give you the reassurance that you desperately need.

a/n: hope you enjoyed <3

[thebunnednun]

Toast.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Prohero!Ex! Reader

Years after you walked out of his life, Katsuki decides to literally open up his boxes of memories and lay them all out.

He can't stand how his mind won't let you go after all this time.

And after your most recent phone call,

He doesn't think he ever will.

Inspired by the song: Darling, I

Warning: Heavy angst, post break ups, crying Katsuki.

Wc; 4.1 K

'Fuck. I wish I never let you go.'

The room was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the soft hum of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Katsuki sat cross-legged on the plush black rug, his back against the couch, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey that he’d barely touched. The firelight danced across his face, its warmth doing nothing to thaw the cold ache in his chest.

In his lap sat an old photo album—something he hadn’t touched in years.

Katsuki told himself it was an accident, finding it while clearing out the closet, but the truth was he’d been looking for it. His fingers hovered over the edge of a photo, the corners worn from years of handling.

 It was one of the two of you from your high school days. You were laughing at something Kaminari had said, and Katsuki’s hand rested protectively on your shoulder, a rare, crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t ever tell a woman you love her if you don’t mean it,”

Kirishima’s voice echoed in his head, from a long-ago conversation. 

“You said you did, though. Didn’t you?”

Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his crimson eyes flickering toward the fire. 

He said it.

He’d meant it. 

God, he’d meant it. 

But meaning it wasn’t enough, was it?

The gala came back to him in flashes. The heated argument that had escalated faster than either of you could stop it. Your voice, sharp and cutting, accusing him of shutting you out. His, louder, angrier, drowning out whatever plea you might’ve been trying to make. 

And then—fire.

Not from you, but from him. 

A blazing retaliation that caught the bottom of your dress and sent you flying over the edge.

“Darling, I keep falling in love.”

The lyrics from some stupid song that’s been trending lately plays unbidden in his mind, mocking him. 

‘Falling in love?’

More like falling apart. 

And yet, 

Sitting here surrounded by the ghosts of your shared life, he wondered if he’d ever really stopped falling.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the silence. Katsuki leaned forward, the amber liquid in his glass sloshing dangerously close to the edge. He glanced at the screen: 

Mom.

“Shit,” he muttered, letting it ring out. Mitsuki Bakugo had been relentless since the holidays began, demanding that he “grow a pair” and talk to you. As if it were that simple. 

As if a few words could undo years of hurt and silence.

“Forever’s too long,” he muttered to himself, echoing her favorite line when she brought you up. Yeah, it was too long. Too long to keep replaying the same memories like a goddamn broken record.

Too long to keep holding onto someone who clearly didn’t want to be held. 

He drained the whiskey, setting the glass down harder than he intended. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the apartment, and Katsuki winced, running a hand through his messy blond spikes. His gaze shifted back to the photo album, to your smile, frozen in time.

Like you never left. 

Katsuki swiped angrily at his face, cursing under his breath. He didn’t even notice the tears until one splashed onto the page.

How the hell had it come to this?

He had everything he’d ever wanted—the fame, the recognition, the goddamn hero ranking to prove it. 

But it felt hollow.

“Oh, they wanna tie me down, that bondage just might break. I can’t sign the dotted line; just how long is forever?”

That had been his excuse back then, hadn’t it? 

Fear of forever. 

Failure.

The weight of tying himself to someone when his career demanded everything.

But now, sitting alone in his cold, immaculate apartment, 

Katsuki couldn’t help but think he’d been an idiot.

‘Maybe letting go is a beautiful thing,’ he thought bitterly, except it wasn’t beautiful. 

It fucking hurt. 

And no amount of hero work or accolades could fill the space you’d taken with you.

The whiskey glass sat precariously close to the edge of the coffee table, its amber contents catching the firelight like liquid gold.

Katsuki stares at it, unfocused, his mind too far gone to care if it tips over. His breaths come unevenly, the weight in his chest pressing down harder with each passing second.

The photo album rested on his lap like a lead weight, and he flipped the page with trembling fingers. There you were again—another snapshot of a life he hadn’t realized he’d been taking for granted.

This one was from your first Hero Gala together. 

You wore a sleek, shimmering gown that hugged your figure, and Katsuki stood beside you in his perfectly tailored suit, scowling at the camera while you beamed brightly enough to make up for it.

"Sweet and spicy," Mina had teased back then, snapping the photo.

"The perfect pair."

And for a while, you had been. Katsuki could almost hear your laughter in the silence of the room, could almost feel the brush of your fingertips against his arm as you whispered something to him that cold night air, something only meant for him.

His hand clenched into a fist, crumpling the edge of the page.

The memory of that night—the gala that ended it all—burned at the back of his mind like a scar that refused to fade.

Katsuki stood abruptly, the photo album sliding from his lap and landing with a soft thud on the rug. The whiskey had gone bitter in his mouth, and his chest ached with the weight of it all. He paced toward the window, dragging a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as if to ground himself.

The skyline stretched out before him, the glittering city lights blinking like fireflies in the distance. It was beautiful in a way that made his heart clench. 

Somewhere out there, you were living your life, and he had no right to wonder if you ever thought of him the way he thought of you—

Late at night, alone. When the silence was too loud.

“Forever,” he muttered again, his voice low and rough. Katsuki leaned his forehead against the cool glass, his breath fogging the pane as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, right.”

His reflection stared back at him, hollow-eyed and tired. 

Katsuki hated the man looking back, the hero who could save the world but not himself. The words he’d thrown at you during that fight echoed like gunshots, ricocheting off the walls of his mind.

“You think I can just drop everything for you?” he had snarled, the veins in his neck taut with anger. 

The way your face had crumpled… he’d see it every time he closed his eyes. 

The argument had started small, as these things often do. 

A misplaced comment here, a sharp retort there. Katsuki didn’t even remember what had sparked it anymore, only that it had spiraled out of control faster than he could keep up.

��You think this is enough for me?” you’d snapped, your voice low but venomous, cutting through the noisy chatter of the gala like a blade. 

“You think I can just sit back and be your cheerleader while you push me further and further away?”

Katsuki had bristled, his temper flaring instantly. “You think I like this shit?” he’d barked, gesturing to the opulent surroundings. 

“You think I asked for people to crawl up my ass every time I breathe? I’m doing this for us!”

“For us?” you’d laughed, bitter and disbelieving. “Don’t lie to me, Katsuki. Don’t act like you love me if you don’t mean it.”

“This isn’t some fairy tale, and I’m not your fucking prince!”

His response had been immediate and instinctive, a roaring denial that had drawn the attention of nearby guests. 

But the damage was already done. 

You hadn’t yelled back after that. You’d just gone quiet, your lips trembling as if you were holding back words that could shatter you both. 

The heat of your anger had flared in your quirk, with you catching the hem of his tuxedo jacket and sending him careening over the balcony with a forceful scream.

When he’d dragged himself back inside, soot-streaked, soaking wet from the rain, and seething—

You were gone.

The soft click of your heels behind you louder than any explosion he’d ever made.

He hadn’t chased you.

Katsuki balled his hands into fists, nails biting into his palms. That had been the biggest mistake of his life—standing there, letting you walk away. 

At the time, he’d told himself it was for the best.

You deserve someone who could give you everything, not someone chained to a profession that demanded his soul.

But now, years later, all he had were awards he didn’t care about and an emptiness he couldn’t ignore anymore.

“Da-da, da, keep falling in love,” you’d once hummed softly under your breath, leaning against the kitchen counter in your tiny shared apartment. The one he picked to save up money for Izuku's suit.

You hadn’t noticed him watching you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Back then, the sound of your voice had been enough to ground him after a long day.

He swallowed hard, the memory cutting through him like a blade. “Falling in love,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking. 

“What a fucking joke.”

The sound of the glass tipping snapped him back to the present. Katsuki lunged forward, catching it just before it shattered on the hardwood floor. The sudden movement sent the photo album sliding down where he left it, its contents scattering across the rug.

“Fuck,” he muttered, setting the glass aside and reaching for the fallen photos. His fingers hesitated over one in particular—a candid shot of you asleep on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. 

He didn’t even know who had taken it, but it was one of his favorites.

‘Darling, I keep falling in love.’

The melody whispered through his mind again, relentless and mocking. He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over your image.

“What the hell was I thinking, letting you go?”

The apartment felt colder than usual, despite the roaring fire. It wasn’t just the lack of your presence—it was the absence of life, of warmth, of anything real.

Furniture was pristine, untouched. The awards and accolades lining the shelves were polished to perfection but hollow in their meaning.

He glanced toward the closet, where a single, dusty box sat in the corner. He hadn’t opened it since you left. It was the only thing you hadn’t taken with you, and he’d never had the guts to look inside.

Katsuki pushed himself to his feet, the photo still clutched in his hand. He made his way to the closet, each step heavier than the last.

When he reached the box, he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the lid.

“Don’t be a coward,” he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth.

With a deep breath, Katsuki pulled the lid off.

The first thing he saw was your handwriting, scrawled across a folded note resting on top of the neatly packed contents. His chest tightened painfully as he unfolded it, the familiar curve of your letters hitting him like a punch to the gut.

Katsuki,

I want to explain, but I don’t know how. By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

I don’t expect you to change for me. Maybe you hate me, and that’s okay. I just couldn’t do it anymore—not like this.

I loved you. I still do. Maybe I always will. But love isn’t enough when we’re tearing each other apart. I won't continue to stay in a toxic environment.

I love you enough to set you free.

We have so many dreams and I'm going to achieve mine.

I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope you find happiness, even if it’s not with me.

Keep being a hero I can be proud of.

Forever Your Love and Lady

~Your (maybe) Future Wife

Katsuki gently laid the note from his fist on the coffee table, his vision blurring with unshed tears. His breathing hitched as he sank to his knees, the box forgotten at his side.

Fuck everything right now.

He couldn't have worse timing.

The fire crackled behind him, casting long, flickering shadows across the room. But all Katsuki could see was your face, all he could hear was your voice, and all he could feel was the crushing weight of what could have been.

“Forever’s too long,” he whispered, his voice breaking. 

“But it wasn’t long enough with you.”

The photo album lay open on the rug, the pages flipping lazily in the breeze from the cracked window. Katsuki’s gaze drifted to it, the flicker of nostalgia pulling at him like a riptide. He stalked back toward the couch and dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached for the album.

The next page revealed another photo, this one candid. You were sitting cross-legged on the grass during a rare picnic, your face half-hidden behind a slice of watermelon, grinning like an idiot. 

Next to you, Kirishima was doubled over laughing, and Mina was holding up a peace sign behind your head. Katsuki stood in the background, arms crossed, pretending not to care. 

But the way his eyes lingered on you in the photo said everything he never could.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his throat tight. 

Katsuki swiped at his eyes again, the tears coming faster now.

He’d spent so much of his life running—running from vulnerability, from the risk of loss, from the terrifying truth that he needed you. But in the end, it didn’t matter how fast he ran. The pain still found him, clinging to his every step like a relentless shadow.

The box, still open beside him, was a time capsule of your shared history. Beneath the note lay a tangled mess of memories: an old hoodie you’d stolen from him, still faintly smelling of caramel and strawberries; a Polaroid of the two of you on your first trip to the beach, his face begrudgingly half-smiling as you threw your arms around him, your old cheerleader uniform, tickets from movie dates, a few notebooks from UA, some bracelets he'd made you; and a small, lopsided clay sculpture of a cat you’d made during some ridiculous pottery class Mina had dragged you both to.

Katsuki picked up the sculpture with care, his thumb running over its uneven surface.

He’d laughed at it back then, calling it ugly as hell, but you’d just grinned and told him it was supposed to be that way—it gave it “character.”

Now, it felt like the most precious thing in the world, its imperfections a mirror to his own.

“Why’d you leave this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice thick with emotion.

“Why’d you leave me?”

Katsuki knew why you fucking left him.

The answer was written plainly in your letter, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He’d been too blind, too stubborn to see what you’d needed from him, and by the time he’d realized, it was too late.

He’d pushed you away with his anger, his pride, his refusal to admit that he was terrified of losing you.

And in doing so, he’d ensured exactly that.

Katsuki set the sculpture down with trembling hands, his head falling into his palms as a choked sob escaped him. The world had always painted him as unbreakable, a hero who could withstand anything. 

But here, in the solitude of his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your love, he was just a man

—flawed, broken,

and utterly lost without you.

The melody from the song drifted through his mind again, relentless and cruel,

“Darling, I keep falling in love...”

With a growl, he shoved the box aside and stood, pacing the room like a caged animal. The ache in his chest was unbearable, a gaping wound that no amount of hero work could heal.

He wanted to scream, to punch something, to burn the entire world down if it meant he could feel anything other than this crushing emptiness.

But what would that solve?

What would any of it solve?

His gaze landed on his phone, still resting on the coffee table where he’d left it. Mitsuki’s missed call stared back at him like a challenge, and for once, he didn’t ignore it. With a deep, shuddering breath, Katsuki snatched it up and scrolled through his contacts, his thumb hovering over your name.

He hadn’t deleted it. He couldn’t. 

Even after all this time, the thought of erasing you from his life completely was too much to bear. 

But now, as his finger hovered over the call button, he hesitated.

What the hell would he even say? 

That he was sorry? That he was a coward? 

How he still loves you, despite everything?

Instead, Katsuki stared at the screen, his jaw tight and his heart pounding in his chest. 

The words won’t come. They never do. 

His thumb moved as if on its own, clicking on your contact and opening the text thread. The last message was from you, years ago—a simple, 

“Take care of yourself, Katsuki.”

He clenched his teeth, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 

He could do this. 

He had to do this.

“I miss you.”

The words stared back at him, stark and vulnerable on the screen. He hesitated for a long moment before deleting them. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Instead, he typed something else—something raw, something real.

“I was an idiot. I should’ve fought for you. I should’ve fought with you. I’m sorry.”

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, the message disappearing into the void. The phone slipped from his hand, landing softly on the couch as he sank down beside it. His head fell back against the cushions, his eyes closing as exhaustion overtook him.

For the first time in years, Katsuki allowed himself to hope. 

Maybe, somehow, it wasn’t too late.

His phone buzzed again, breaking his spiraling thoughts. This time, it wasn’t his mom. 

It was you.

Katsuki froze, his breath catching in his throat. The screen lit up with your name, your contact photo still the same one he’d set years ago—a close-up of your face, mid-scream, after he’d shoved a snowball down the back of your jacket. His thumb hovered over the screen, his pulse pounding in his ears.

What the hell did you want?

His mind raced with possibilities, each one more ridiculous than the last. Maybe you were drunk and scrolling through old contacts.

Maybe it was some bad news.

Maybe you'd dropped your phone in a fight and he was your emergency contact.

Maybe you’d accidentally called him instead of someone else.

Maybe this was some cruel joke on your behalf.

Or maybe—just maybe—you missed him as much as he missed you.

The phone buzzed again, and he cursed under his breath. He let it ring twice more before finally swiping to answer.

“Yeah?” His voice came out gruff, harsher than he intended.

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, he thought you’d hung up. But then your voice came through, soft and tentative.

“Katsuki…?”

His name on your lips hit him like a punch to the gut. He clenched his jaw, his free hand gripping the edge of the couch for support. 

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone defensive, like armor against the hope creeping into his chest.

You hesitated, and he could picture you biting your lip, the way you always did when you were nervous. 

“I—I need your help.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. Katsuki’s heart stuttered, his mind racing. He didn’t know what you needed, but in that moment, he realized something. 

No matter how much time had passed, no matter how deep the hurt ran, he’d never stopped wanting to be the one you called when everything fell apart.

It struck him in a place he’d buried long ago, his chest tightening as memories surged forward unbidden. For a second, the world around him faded.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his voice quieter than he intended, almost reverent.

“I—” You inhaled sharply, the sound shaky as if you were fighting for air. “It’s my grandma’s will. Someone in the family is contesting it, and I—” Your voice broke, and his grip on his phone tightened.

“I thought I had it with me, but I dodn’t. It’s—it’s somewhere in a box back there, and I just—I can’t lose her home. Everything is in there, Katsuki. Everything.”

Your words tumbled out in a rush, frantic and laden with grief. Katsuki could hear it: the weight of losing her, of memories slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

It made his chest ache, twisting with emotions he hadn’t faced in years.

“You sure it’s here?” he asked, already scanning the room, his mind piecing together where it might be.

“I—I think so,” you stammered. “I was so sure when I packed, but now… Oh, God, I can’t breathe—”

“Hey,” he cut in sharply, his tone grounding. “Breathe. You hear me? Slow and steady, like this.” He exaggerated his breathing into the phone, his breaths loud and deliberate, as if sheer force could drag you out of your spiral. He could hear you on the other end, trying to mimic him, your breaths still jagged but slowing. 

Katsuki’s own chest loosened ever so slightly.

“Good,” he said softly. “Now, don’t move. I’m lookin’.”

The room was a mess, strewn with boxes he hadn’t touched in months, maybe years. His hands worked on autopilot, pulling open lids, rifling through layers of forgotten treasures. 

Old photos, mismatched socks, gear from training sessions—it was all a blur as he focused on your voice in the background.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice quieter now but no less fraught. He heard you talking to someone——and his ears perked the fuck up. 

“Yeah, just heat it up. I’ll be out in a second.”

His jaw clenched at the sound of your voice addressing someone else, but he shoved the feeling aside, muttering a string of curses as he knocked over a box. “Damn it.”

“What?” you asked, alarmed.

“Not you,” he grunted, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the piles around him. His palms were clammy, and he scrubbed at them on his pants. “Just...I’m fine.”

Your soft laugh at his flustered tone sent a jolt through him. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the way it made his pulse quicken.

Then, it hit him.

“Wait,” he muttered, turning toward the kitchen.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he snapped, making his way to the freezer. He yanked it open, the cold air blasting his face as he dug past forgotten food containers and ice packs. “Where the hell—”

“Katsuki?”

“Not talkin’ to you!” he barked, banging his head against the freezer’s edge.

“Shit!”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he growled, biting back a string of curses. His fingers burned from the cold as he shoved aside another frosted-over bag. Then, his hand hit something solid and unmistakable.

He pulled it out, a plastic binder covered in condensation, his breath catching in relief. “Got it.”

“What?”

“The will,” he said, holding it up as if you could see through the phone. His lips twitched into the smallest, most fleeting of smiles. “Guess you still hide stuff in the freezer, huh?”

A soft laugh came from your end, tinged with disbelief. 

“You found it?!”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, gripping the binder tighter. 

“Told ya. You can count on me.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, filled with things neither of you could quite say. His chest felt too tight, his palms sweating again despite the chill.

'How do you manage to own me after all this time?'

“Thank you,” 

You whispered, your voice softer now, warmer. It was the first time in years he’d heard you sound like this—like you trusted him.

And damn if it didn’t feel like coming home.

“Can we meet?” you asked, your voice hesitant but steadying. “At the ramen spot near the convenience store? You know, the one we used to go to…”

The memory of that little shop flickered to life in Katsuki’s mind. The mismatched chairs, the warm glow of the neon sign, the way you’d always insist on extra toppings while he rolled his eyes and covered the bill anyway.

But the image was quickly replaced by another—a blur of voices, the usual get-together Ochako and Mina loved organizing. 

Everyone would crowd into the tiny space, including Shinsou, Aizawa, and even Eri perched on her dad’s side.

He grimaced. “Tch, I dunno if that’s a good—”

The sound of a crash on your end cut him off.

“Shit!” you gasped, your voice sharp with worry. Katsuki’s heart leapt into his throat.

“What the hell was that?” he barked, gripping the phone tighter.

There was no response, just the sound of you dropping the phone and running. He could hear muffled voices, your hurried footsteps, and the faint murmur of concern as you called out, 

“Are you okay?”

For a moment, his stomach twisted.

What if you weren’t safe? What if—

But then he heard it.

You were laughing.

It started soft, a chuckle slipping through the static, but it grew, spilling out in full-bodied peals that echoed through the line. Katsuki froze, his pulse roaring in his ears.

Your laugh.

It hit him like a freight train, vivid memories rushing in all at once. Your face, lit up with joy. The way your eyes sparkled when you teased him. The warmth of your skin brushing against his arm, unintentional but electric. 

The sound of your laughter—it was a melody he hadn’t realized he’d been desperate to hear again.

It felt like someone struck him with a tuning fork, the vibrations resonating deep in his chest. For a moment, Katsuki forgot how to breathe.

“Sorry about that,” you said, still catching your breath. “My neighbor’s kid tripped over her homework and knocked over a chair. They’re fine, don’t worry.”

He tried to focus on your words, but his mind was swimming, his grip on the phone clammy.

“You still there, Katsuki?”

Even the way you said his name was so—

“Yeah,” he managed, his voice rough. He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice.

“I'm still here.”

“Good,” you said softly, and he could almost hear the smile in your voice.

“So… ramen? Tomorrow?”

He swallowed hard, the warmth of your laughter still lingering in his chest.

Katsuki closes his eyes, and for a moment, he can feel your warmth as you wrap your arms around him, your soft lips by his ear, legs around his waist, and the beat of your heart matching that of his own.

“I’ll be there.”

Part 2 is up now

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, (I haven't posted in a while so please munch on this.)

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the list!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have some more Katsuki (and mother mha) here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[mari-lair]

THANK YOU ANON! YOUR EXCITEMENT GOT ME EXCITED!! I shall gladly share more about the researcher! I too, love them <3

The researcher turned an abandoned lighthouse into his studio/home: There is writing on the walls, strange charts all over the place, and fairy lights carefully placed to mimic a stars map, the very layout of the ex-lighthouse slowly changed as they tipped their toes on wishcraft. During this wishcraft phase, siffrin made his prized possession, a pair of 'night glasses' which give him literal night vision (if he wears it, no matter the time, it will feel like it is night)

The lighthouse is far from any town, people rarely visits, and any traveler who decides to check on the 'strange building' he lives in will get a BIG headache the second they open the door. So a few people know someone lives there but the rumors of what exactly is Siffrin's deal varies.

Siffrin used to give themselves headaches all the time, and his determination to keep reading the forbidden language deteriorated his vision. He doesn't remember most of his life in his studio and most of what he studied so he writes things down on his coat.

After an accident made them fully blind, his headaches stopped and his memory got a bit better (still terrible though).

An evacuation happened in the newest city because of the king freezing everything, and a 'brave and kind' soul remembered "Someone lives in the strange building!" going out of their way to climb their headache home and drag Siffrin out of their house, explaining the situation to him and saving them from being frozen.

Siffrin knows very few Vaugardian words when he is dragged out of his home with all his research, but they like to learn + know how dangerous wishcraft can be, so they don't wishcraft to learn Vauguardian, they do it by normal trial and error (they do wishcraft for his 'research to stay safe too' though). People assume Siffrin is crazy or dumb or both when they first meet him, because the researcher knows so little about the world and is obsessed with the 'dots in the sky', but it doesn't take long to figure out this fella is incredibly smart and a good learner (self-taught a forgotten language, have been connecting dots in the sky and in blank pages for years, and keep studying even after losing his sight)

Smarts aside, they are bad at communication. Even when they want to be honest and vulnerable they aren't very good at it, they haven't talked with other people in years.

Whenever Siffrin speaks in his native tongue people get a headache so they are mostly quiet.

When they lost their eye during an attack, their night glasses were broken too, so now not only is 'half of the sky empty' he also lost his aid/ needing to deal with the sun every day, which is a star so he can see it! But seeing it is disorienting (since the sun is always changing its position) and painfully bright compared to his calming nights, so he either deals with a starless sky or a painful light that doesn't guide him.

[angelicsoka]

BLIND DATE, j. drysdale

part two <3

word count | 758 words

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | you were never one for dating, especially when trevor is the one setting them up. but one date can’t hurt, right?

warnings | talk of pregnancy and terrible ex boyfriends. not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | thank you for 200 followers! i can't believe people actually enjoy my writing but here we are lmao. i’ve had this idea sitting in my drafts for a while but i finally decided to sit down and write it. its pretty short but i’m not against writing a part two :) anyway, enjoy!!

dating was never really your thing, at least not since your last boyfriend left you pregnant and alone in a city you were unfamiliar with. your ex had convinced you to move from michigan to california, something your family tried to warn you against, but you were stubborn. finding out you were pregnant was an accident, a routine checkup. what was supposed to be a wonderful thing turned terrible quick. your ex was angry, he wanted nothing to do with a kid. he gave you an ultimatum: get an abortion or we are over. but, as stated before, you were stubborn and had already to start to fall in love with the idea of being a mom. so, he left and you chose to stay in anaheim, a difficult decision but your ego was already hurt and proving your parents right was not what you wanted to do.

so, here you were, the mother of a two year old little girl who was your whole world. she was your moon and stars, the light of your life. it was you and her against the world, and you were content with that. that was until trevor zegras decided to intervene. “one date.” he begged, “he's a good guy, you’ll like him!” you had simply rolled your eyes, but after he offered to babysit for you whenever you wanted, you faltered, agreeing to the date. 

now, you were sat in a fancy restaurant awaiting the arrival of trevor’s friend. she felt out of place, her dress not nearly as elegant as the women that surrounded her. she checked her phone once more, ready to leave when a man in a suit rushed over, a hurried look on his face. “sorry, i’m sorry! trevor wouldn't stop yapping.” you stood up, smoothing out your dress before offering him your hand to shake. 

“it's all good, you must be jamie?” he nodded, shaking your hand. his smile made your heart flutter slightly, bringing a smile to grace your own lips. “y/n, it's a pleasure.” the anxious pit in your stomach began to settle as you sat, feeling comfortable in the presence of jamie. 

“trevor didn’t tell me much about you.” jamie smiled sheepishly.

“guess we’re in the same boat then.” you smiled, taking a sip from your water. “tell me, jamie, how is it that a handsome guy like you is resorting to blind dates to find a girl?” you questioned, a teasing look in your eye. jamie blushed, ducking his head slightly.

“well, hockey takes up most of my time and trevor takes up the rest of it.” you laughed at that, “it's like wrangling around a small child.”

“oh, i know that feeling all to well. my daughter is great at matching his energy.” jamie did well in hiding his shock, masking it with confusion, but you had learned to pick up on the small cues. “he didn’t tell you?” 

“no, uh, he wasn’t very forthcoming with information.” you nodded, unlocking your phone and pulling up a picture of your daughter. 

“this is my daughter, isla. she has enough energy to outdo trevor, but she’s my world and i wouldn’t change a thing about her.” jamie smiled at the photo of isla who was wearing an elsa dress, her mouth covered in chocolate. 

“she is very cute.” jamie looked to you, “just like her mom.” you blushed, laughing slightly. “how old is she?”

“just turned two, here’s her with my brothers at her frozen themed party.” you swiped to the photo of isla opening her presents with the help of your brothers. 

“is that jack wearing a… tiara?” jamie questioned, pointing to jack who had a crown, which was too small, on his head. 

you giggled, swiping to another photo, “yeah well, quinn and luke were wearing tutus but they attacked me when i tried to take a picture, but isla has them wrapped around her finger.” you showed jamie the photo of your daughter in her elsa dress, quinn and luke wearing matching tutus. “they don’t know i have this photo.” jamie laughed, a sound you were already growing to love. you closed your phone, setting it beside you. 

“anyway, tell me about you.” and he did, and you listened intently, never once losing interest. what you thought would be a boring date, had turned into one of the best dates you had ever been on. you exchanged numbers before you went your separate ways, another date already in the works. 

who knew trevor would make a decent matchmaker?

[cyanremalia]

since my last meme worked out i might as well throw this one down

[pepperyduck]

west end girls - hiromi higuruma

synopsis: after you filed for divorce, hiromi's been acting strange. he's got a problem that only you can fix.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: potentially triggering content, nsfw, angst, guns, reckless actions, unhealthy marriage, unhealthy relationships/attachment/obsession, hiromi is cray, unprotected sex, finishing inside, riding, on a couch, hiromi is a bad husband, very much bojack horseman behaivor, ooc hiromi. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this is me rambling and i'm sorry. i'm floating rn. love u guys. pls read the warnings. mwah. inspired by the song west end girls by petshop boys.

masterlist

although the wind was chilly outside, you buried your nose in your scarf and kept walking down the street towards the firm. it was early morning, birds chirped lightly in the trees, and you found yourself feeling off that day. you didn’t know why.

you didn’t know why, until you passed a certain coffee shop you used to visit often.

inside, pure chaos had erupted, it seemed.

a familiar man to you, and a stranger – or maniac – to the others inside, held a gun. it wasn’t pointed anywhere but to the temple of his head. tables had been knocked down, chairs had been kicked, people had been pushed into the corners of the shop, too scared to move or run away. everyone was frozen in fear, except for him.

“hiromi.”

your voice was cold as ice as you called his name from the front doors. hiromi’s back was facing you, allowing for a perfect silhouette of a man gone mad, with a barrel of a gun kissing his head. but at the sound of your voice – oh, he could go on about how much he loved your voice – the gun was dropped, and he slowly turned around.

stunts like that weren’t out of the ordinary for hiromi since the two of you had split. not divorced yet, just separated – at least, that’s what he told everyone. in reality, the date to finalize the split was creeping up. the closer it got, the more manic hiromi had turned, going from soaking in his bathtub with his suit on, to buying a gun, to now threatening to use that gun on himself in the place you first met. it seems like a wild pipeline, but really, there’s too many incidents to be listed here.

there were a lot of things that made hiromi higuruma go crazy, and unfortunately, you were one of them.

bystanders in the coffee shop looked at you as if you were the insane one, as you walked over to hiromi and snatched him out of the building, muttering a very bitter apology to everyone in there. as you touched your ex-husband’s arm, the gun consequently fell to the floor, causing the clip to fall out with a clatter.

there were no bullets inside.

yet the police had showed up minutes later, after you and hiromi were far down the sidewalk.

hiromi walked with a slump, hands hidden in the pockets of his blazer, unprepared for the winter weather that was only growing colder. you stepped alongside him, voice muffled by the thick scarf of your favorite color as you berated him. weirdly enough, you had kept your job at hiromi’s firm, even after the initiation for divorce. you had a good standing in it, and hiromi loved you too much to fire you, even if you did want to escape him. maybe one day, you’d be able to move cities, but then, you felt as if you didn’t have many places to go.

the thing is, you always were hiromi’s saving grace. it wasn’t healthy for either of you. he was too attached, using you as his lifeline, always needing your attention rather than the attention of anyone else. you told him countless times to move on, and he still continued to show out, and force you to be his superwoman and come save him.

you still loved him, but he drained you, so, so badly. that’s why you filed for divorce in the first place. however, it always felt like…you’d never be able to fully get away from him. hiromi acted as a lost puppy, briefly following it’s mother whenever it found her.

the city you and hiromi stayed in – separately, by the way; you had an apartment on the opposite side of town from him – was big. you had moved there with him after college when he proposed to you a few days after graduation. you found the city to be enjoyable, there was never a quiet moment in the streets of the most populated portions. boredom was never a problem.

hiromi, however, easily found the city overwhelming. especially when he was by himself. without you.

big lights, unfamiliar faces on billboards, whispering voices. car horns were blared, and breaks squealed every other second. sounds, so many sounds, and visuals. it was all too much for hiromi. all too much.

too much.

too. much.

maybe it was you, or the liquor. possibly it was the case he had lost earlier that day, or the phone call he received from an unhappy client, or the front office clerk that threw her badge at him and quit. either way, hiromi was in the middle of the street, drunkenly walking in front of and in between the traffic-jammed cars, flipping random people off who yelled at him. a true, rebellious, and vulgar, display of how much he had gotten away from himself.

he no longer cared about anything else in the world in that moment.

nothing. not himself, or you.

at least, until he saw your frame storming towards him. like a switch in his mind, the instant he saw you, he remembered what life was about. with your pretty heels and pretty dress, a few of your friends he had met before – and that were in your wedding – trailed out of the bar, watching as you forcefully dragged him back to the sidewalk.

“what the hell is your problem, hiromi? what the fuck? you always do this when—are you drunk?” you shot questions left and right at him, and all hiromi could do was look at you with his stupid huge eyes.

he loved you.

on the ride back to his place, and when you told him to calm the fuck down, all he was able to think about was how much he loved you. even if you hated his guts or found him to be nothing but a pest. you truthfully didn’t feel that way, though.

you often pondered about whether you should force hiromi to get help. taking into consideration everything that was on his plate every day, he needed something to make him snap out of it. hiromi was no longer the man you fell in love with. he wasn’t the same hiromi who got flowers, or took you out on dates, or wrote you notes about his love.

hiromi had turned into nothing more than an unrecognizable maniac.

unrecognizable. that would be the only adjective to describe your ex-husband when you opened your apartment door and let him inside. he had kept an indescribable expression constantly for the past months, one of which had immediately faded upon being let into your space. you noticed how he had gotten a haircut, swooped it back into its normally kempt style, and his face was freshly shaved. he had cleaned up nicely at your call.

only a few minutes into the painful conversation you planned, the both of you were crying your eyes out, spewing to one another about concerns and how hiromi felt, the complexity of his emotions and why he acted so strangely.

“i-i just…want you to get better, hiromi. you aren’t…you anymore,” you cried, honesty the only thing leaving your lips. you tightly held onto hiromi’s hand, nearly cutting off the circulation to his thin fingers.

and again, the switch in his brain flipped. a look in his eye appeared, or more like the pain and suffering he had held on to finally disappeared from his gaze, leaving nothing but the pure eyes of the hiromi higuruma you had fallen in love with. he raised his free hand to your cheek, cupping it ever-so-slightly and ran his thumb over the warm, tear-stained flesh.

“i’m okay, my love, i’m here.”

said through teary eyes, hiromi tried his best to comfort you. he wasn’t sure what was up with him, or if he would ever get better any time soon, but all that mattered to him in those moments was you. he pet your hair when you fell over to hug him, crying into his chest at the possibly false assurance. while you cried into him, hiromi looked around your apartment, relishing in the ability to see how you lived again.

against your better judgement, one thing ended up leading to another, as if both of you had been waiting for this opportunity ever since you filed for divorce.

hiromi had his hands on your waist, helping to bounce you up and down slowly and sensually, burying his length into you ‘til you hit the hilt. intimate, passionate, it all felt comparable to your wedding night. one of your hands rested atop his own, swiping over the gold wedding band he still sported.

you looked so beautiful, only wearing an old t-shirt, biting your bottom lip as he always made you do. the thought of a condom or even pulling out was long gone, he was going to stay inside of you until he felt fixed. who knew the solution to all his problems was sex?

moving you just a bit faster, hiromi quickened the pace, bucking his hips up into you to meet your walls sliding back down around his cock. he filled you up so nicely, soft tip of his hitting that sweet spot you couldn’t get anyone else to. your legs burned and shivered, overcome with the feeling of being stretched out so well, so familiar again.

“’hiro, mm-, please,” you absentmindedly begged, asking for something you didn’t know.

“please what, pretty?” hiromi’s voice was as monotone as ever, perfectly controlled although he felt himself getting closer and closer to the line of bursting inside of you.

you slumped your body over hiromi’s, crashing into his chest again, legs going halfway limp as you used all your strength to try to move on your ex-husband’s raging hard cock. hiromi took this opportunity – a familiar one of his past – and snaked his hands to under your thighs that were spread on either side of him. he held you up at a perfect height, and began hammering into you from below, planting his feet in the ground.

your little ouuu’s and whimpers swirled into his ears, making hiromi feel proud as ever, and beckoning him closer to the edge. you didn’t care what happened after that point, you just never wanted the feeling of your ex-husband pounding into you to end.

each grueling stretch felt heavenly, forcing you open in just the right way, faster, faster and faster. even as much of a romantic as the both of you were, hiromi enjoyed setting a brutal pace much more than being slow. every fast, deep stroke your ‘hiro gave you, was felt with intensity you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. even as your body went limp against him for good, he kept you help up with whatever strength he could find.

“feels so good, ‘hiro—gonna cum,” you whined, cutely pecking his neck after. he found your little weak kisses so endearing, it was a small detail he looked forward to every time the two of you made love. the pace never faltered, hiromi kept pounding up into you, forcing the bubbles in your lower abdomen to begin to pop.

“it’s okay, pretty, cum for me,” he muttered, always a little embarrassed about dirty talking with you. but nevertheless, his words made you topple over the edge, gushing all around hiromi’s length. he fucked straight through your orgasm, still never slowing down, making you grasp reality at the feeling of being overstimulated.

immediately, you began to whine again, “too much, ‘hiro, ah—uugh.” pitiful tears rolled over your lower eyelids, staining your cheeks for the second time that night. those tears were fully pleasure-written, though.

“gonna cum, my wife,” hiromi grumbled, the last two words leaving his mouth as little less than a whisper. little mind was paid to the fact he had no intention of pulling out, the realization coming to you when you felt ropes of your ex-husband’s cum shoot straight into you.

hiromi relaxed after a few more thrusts, dropping your motionless body back onto him fully. you stayed gripped to him for a few moments, contemplating about the moments before when lust had taken over – but really, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad if all this would become a little accident.

he was – was – your husband, after all.

after a few long minutes, hiromi picked you up, just as he always did, and carried you to your bed. he carefully laid down with you, soaking in the feeling of being warm under the blankets with his wife. he watched your frame as you fell asleep, cuddled into his toned frame, his arm securely around you.

he failed to fall asleep for a while.

and when you rolled over away from him in your sleep, getting comfy in a different position, away from him – he felt off again. hiromi hated that feeling. it was uncomfortable, and just…odd.

hiromi higuruma couldn’t help it that night when he snuck out of your bed, and out of your apartment, to go back home. he left you.

he figured he would wake up later and feel guilty about it, and frantically beg you to accept him again. but then, once more, nothing mattered to hiromi.

he did think about how you’d be when you woke up. will you try to talk to him? will you cut him off for leaving like that? will you act as if it never happened? he saw you as a strong woman, it’d be easy for you to let go of him in an instant, right?

hiromi was probably wrong, but he still ended up by himself at the end of the night. he shivered alone in his bed, dressed in all the clothes he had on earlier that night, thinking. he always thought too much.

[irisinluv]

Yandere Stardew Valley- Sebastian

I've been playing some Yandere Stardew mods recently. While I love them..... I feel like they do my husband (Sebastian) wrong. The citizens of Pelican Town are telling me that they can't hang out with me because Sebstian threatened them. That they've noticed some weird behavior. That he's physically violent. I disagree with all of these for Sebby.

He's our hot programmer boyfriend who lives in his basement bedroom, and only emerges to enjoy a smoke break, or to go see his friends. Now, while again, I do enjoy playing the mods...... I think his cannon behavior sets him up to be the perfect chronically online yandere. Pelican Town isn't exactly the most connected (6 out of the 11 rivals have access to a computer), but there's still potential. Obviously they're gonners if they have a computer. Sam finds himself doxed after making a comment about the gifts you gave him this week, and poor Haley's socials are blowing up with hate comments- from her personal insta to her photography blog.

But what about the other 5? The ones who are more disconnected? Well. It's easy enough to get Shane fired from joja. A little email to Morris from "HQ" saying he either fires Shane or his own pay gets docked..... well. Suddenly, everyone's favorite alcoholic doesn't even have a job anymore. Elliott suddenly has all these taxes he hasn't paid on his little shack..... beachfront properties cost a lot, you know. The parents stop letting Penny watch their kids after some..... explicit photos get leaked. It doesn't matter that they're edited. These people don't know about Photoshop. All they know is apparently Penny's making ends meet to support her mother..... and there's a new favorite subject to gossip on between all the older women. The other rivals are equally taken care of. All you need to focus on now is how Sebastian is the only reliable option in the whole damn town.

And he knows you so well, doesn't he? You, who lived away from it all until now. You, who WAS connected to the internet. Who had their entire life detailed through Facebook updates and Instagram posts. Honestly, Sebastian thinks that maybe he DOESN'T need to leave Pelican town... looking at the life you lived before coming to the valley, he thinks its much easier to keep you safe when he can control everything that goes on. There were too many factors to your old life. Too many parties to go to, coworkers to talk to, ex-boyfriends/girlfriends worry about. No. Sebastian thinks that city life isn't fit for the two of you to start you life together.

While he enjoyed seeing the trip down memory lane of who you were before becoming the farmer, and learning more about your likes and dislikes, he much prefers this version of you. The version of you who he found bouncing on their toes outside his door, excitedly shoving a frozen tear at him. Who eventually became the only person he was genuinely excited to have come barging into his room unannounced. And the thought of moving into the farm with you was all together far too tempting. He can picture it already. He'd set up a little area to work on his bike, he'd help out around the farm for you (he saw your hands covered in scrapes and splinters one day, and you sheepishly told him your fences had started wearing down.... but fixing a fence was another first for you. So you ended up scraping yourself up a bit on the old wood. Now, Sebastain, who, while he doesn't enjoy it, grew up with a carpenter mother..... well. He's going to make sure you never have that many splinters again.) Oh and he can already imagine it. The two of you, far away from the rest of the town, from prying eyes, no one to hear what you two would get up to as he helped you relax after a long day of working the feilds.....

This fantasy would sustain him until you eventually asked him to marry you. I don't think he would rush anything. To you, and the rest of the citizens, he was just normal Sebastian. Showing up for band practice, playing pool at the bar (although he seemed to play much better when a certain farmer came to watch). He just realized that the best way to control all the factors in town would be to remain anonymous. Avoid suspicion. After all. In a small town like that, it would be all too easy to turn against him if he decided to publicly threaten someone. And how would you react if you came to drop off some fresh sashimi to your boyfriend, only to find him being dragged out of his house by Clint, with Marlon standing nearby, ready to ship him off to face justice in the adventurers guild? No. That wouldn't do. He can't add any more stress to you like that. He'd remain the puppeteer, pulling the strings of the valley.

This isn't to say Sebastian never stalks you in person or anything like that. He can't help himself. He's a night owl. He knows the villagers schedules, has since before you even came to town. So, he knows he can get away with digging in the trash to find the straw you threw away at the bar. And if someone does hear him.... well. Linus is going to be everyone's first thought. He does, however, start adopting a stricter routine as far as monitoring your house after you mention how you sell your produce.

Sebastian was rightfully horrified when you explained that Mayor Lewis comes by your farm at night to collect anything you wish to sell. How it's such a relief to be able to just chuck things in the the bin as you're rushing to bed at 1:50 in the morning, only to get up first thing and start your day again, and not have to worry about lugging all your goods to the store. Sebastian won't criticize you for the lack of sleep..... no. That's not what's worrying. What's worrying is that this old man who has a gold statue of himself and who gets it on in the bushes with his secret girlfriend (of course Sebastian knows about that) is showing up to your house sometime after 2 am. His mind flashes back to his fantasy of the two of you, completely alone on the farm.... and then is mortified as this fantasy morphs into a nightmare where he looks up from bed with you, and sees Lewis' wrinkled face peering through the window. Yea. No. Sebastain installs some hidden cameras to make sure Lewis doesn't get up to anything funny while you're defenseless, asleep, alone..... ok he might need to get a new mayor elected. The old man might just have to go. Perhaps to a home outside the town. Regardless, he makes sure Lewis stops coming by as frequently. Frustratingly, he isn't able to completely stop it, but that'll be an easy fix once the two of you are married. He'll act surprised, "wow Lewis, that's so kind of you to help out the farmer all this time. But hey, don't worry, I'll take over. I'm up late anyways, and it's the least I can do!" But Sebastian still wakes up in a cold sweat and frantically rushes to check the cameras, making sure you're OK. That Lewis really is just checking the shipping bin.

Once y'all get married, he shows a bit more of that possessive side to you. But you chalk it up to just bedroom spicy time, and honestly find his hand tightening on your waist as Elliot asks you to read his latest poem hot.

Just. Yandere Sebastian brain rot.

[ailoda]

updated: 17.01.25

ᯓ★ 40s!au

Just One Kiss (❤❅): Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss? (@sarahwroteathing)

Decades Apart (❤❅✘): what if Bucky decided to return to 1949 with Steve? Back to his old life, back to the world he knew. Back to the love of his life that he couldn't - wouldn't - forget, even though they were decades apart. (@catharsisfalls)

Peace (❅): Bucky's reminiscing about a woman during the war leads to his demise.(@srgntjamesbuckybarnes)

Set Me Free (❤❅): once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold.(@intrepidacious)

Look At Me (❤❅): she never expected to fall so deeply for Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes, what with his skirt-chasing tendencies and cocky personality. Except how was she to know war would change everything she thought she wanted? Suddenly, she wanted him. (@rosepetalsinwinter)

Fleeting Love (❅): Bucky Barnes meets a woman in France who he can’t help but fall for. A love story meant for only one night in the streets of a city destroyed by war.(@moonlight-prose)

Every Breath You Take (✘): Bucky can't help but spend his free time watching you. (@sweetiebarnes) (warning: Bucky being a creep, voyeurism, exhibitionism, stalking, obsession)

Touch (✘): Bucky knows exactly how to help you relax on top of the Ferris wheel. (@sweetiebarnes)

Until I Found You (✘): after a date at the new exposition, your jealous ex decides to pay you a visit. (@delicatebarness)

First Date, Last Night (❤❅): you were supposed to go on a date tonight, but Bucky just had to interfere. It doesn’t make any sense, either. It’s not like there’s anything going on between the two of you. (@intrepidacious)

Taste Test (❤): 1940s!bucky and his girl getting ice cream on their date at Coney Island. (@intrepidacious)

Chronicles (❤❅): the story of you and Bucky as told through different dates. (@cosmicbucky)

Empty Words (❤❅): Bucky had the heart eyes for the little nurse who had just transferred. (@lanabuckybarnes)

Drafted (❅): Bucky has to tell you that he leaves tomorrow but not without leaving you with plans for when he gets back. (@tom-holland-parker)

Heroes Get Remembered (❅): "Heroes get remembered, but legends never die." Bucky read the words, but he couldn't process them. Hero? Legend? Bucky wasn't either of those things. Those words were reserved for generals, warriors, doctors... a little punk from Brooklyn in stripey tights who didn't know when to give up... and a young nurse who threw herself in a warzone to save the ones she loved. (@justfandomwritings)

The Fate's Design (❤❅): flower, gleam and glow, let your powers shine. Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates' design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine, what once was mine... (@anonymityisfunwriter)

new! Promise Me (❤❅): Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time. (@winterarmyy) (warning: graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide)

[hells-wasabii]

A/N: in case it isn’t obvious this is another heavy work, so do with that information as you will. I took a completely different approach to this one than the one with Velvette, I don’t feel that Carmilla would actually act on the information unless it was something you explicitly expressed desire for. I didn’t fully proof read this either so lemme know if I’ve made any mistakes

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader who had abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)

You had just wanted a cup of coffee. That’s all it had been. Coffee and a muffin during an early morning in hell.

It should have been simple. It was simple. But still, you found yourself tucked into a booth with your face buried in your hands on the verge of a breakdown.

And yet your heart still pounded away in your chest. One moment had been fine, and the next notes of an all too familiar cologne met your nose. You would have recognized that scent anywhere, the notes of pine stinging your nostrils. It was the sort that did little to cover the smell of cigarettes, you remembered. The smell was burned in your mind, embedded in the deepest recesses of your worst memories. Fuck, you hated it.

With each panicked breath that entered your lungs, your fear grew. Screwing your eyes shut you tried to will yourself to calm down. They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. You needed something to ground you, anything. And so with shaking hands, you wrapped them around your cup. The heat seeped through the porcelain and into your palms, but even still it wasn’t enough.

All at once, it was like you could hear everything and nothing at all. It felt akin to drowning. And you were alone with no one to save you. It was a fact that only served to unsettle you more. You couldn’t help but wonder, would the other patrons jump to your aid should they make an appearance? Or would they turn a blind eye and whisper amongst themselves just as they did when you lived?

They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. They weren’t even in the same city for fucks sake. You’d made damn sure of that when you chose to settle in Pentagram City. Rationally, you knew this, but it did little to settle your nerves. You thought that you had done so well to make progress, but now you weren’t so sure. Had all that work to get away really been for nothing? Maybe you really should have killed the bastard sooner…

You screwed your eyes close tightly, gripping the hot cup even tighter. The cup in your hand burned, but you didn’t care. It helped ground you to reality. This would pass, you told yourself just as you had countless times before. It had to.

But you couldn’t help but half expect them to slide into the booth opposite of you.

Your blood ran cold when you heard the door to the shop open. The thought of potentially getting up from your seat and quickly leaving the cafe sprung to your mind, yet you remained frozen in place.

A soft conversation between three women met your ears, light-hearted. It’s not much but the voices sooth you, even from across the cafe. It wasn’t them.

Once more the noises melded together, a horrible amalgamation that was quickly becoming too much.

A sharp gasp left your lips as you felt a hand rest upon your shoulder. You nearly spilled your coffee as fear flooded your senses. Your head whipped around to find a tall demon with white hair and sharp eyes staring back at you, looking almost as surprised as you felt. You realized that you recognized the woman as she quickly retracted her hand, as though if she weren’t careful she would burn you.

Carmilla Carmine, the biggest name in arms dealing in the pride ring. A powerful overlord whose reach even extended to the other rings. You knew each other, or at least knew of each other.

The overlord's eyes scanned your features, taking only a moment to gather herself before she spoke. “Are you alright?”

You didn’t reply at first, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Instead, you nod, shifting under the arms dealer’s gaze. She stood there, silent, as if she were deciding something.

“Girls,” Carmilla called out gently after a moment, and soon two younger women were at her side. Her daughters, you realized. “Go on without me, I believe I’ll stay just a bit longer.”

The overlord’s daughters looked between themselves and then back to their mother. Both of the young women seemed to have a look of understanding when the one in the white coat replied. “We’ll see you at home, mother.” Carmilla watched as they left, setting her drink at the table as she settled into the booth opposite of you.

“Now, would you like to talk about what’s going on?”

Truly, you couldn’t understand it. You had only spoken once, maybe twice before and that had been in the company of others. Why was she doing this? You couldn’t help but wonder if something like this was what you had so desperately wished for when you still breathed. And so you let this woman distract you from your panic.

What followed was a conversation that would change your afterlife. While you didn’t dive into specifics. You expressed your fears, and her, understanding and support.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to other things. The conversations that fell between the two of you felt effortless. She had gotten you to smile, to laugh even. You had felt a rare sense of pride when you had managed a chuckle out of the overlord in return. You weren’t sure you had felt this at ease in a long time.

To be quite honest, you hadn’t even realized how long you sat in that cafe with the overlord until Carmilla’s phone began to buzz, her screen lighting up as a few messages appeared on its screen.

“I’m afraid that’s my cue.” The arms dealer sighed, seeming a touch disappointed as she rose from the booth. Though she took a pause, her eyes locking with yours again a moment. She reached into her pocket, receiving what had appeared to be her receipt from earlier, and quickly jotted something down on the receipt before she folded it neatly. “It seems my daughters are expecting me home for a late lunch.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,“ Carmilla slid the folded receipt in front of you, offering one last gentle smile before she left. And so you watch her go, offering a small ‘yeah,’ though you doubt that she heard.

Once she had exited the cafe it was like you had broken out of a chance. With a shake of your head, you sank back into your seat as you turned your attention to the slip that the overlord had left behind for you. Carefully you took it into your hands.

Your eyes widened as you opened the folded slip, revealing her name and phone number.

‘In case you want to talk more.’

[alisonsfics]

old college flame

pairing: tony dinozzo x ex-girlfriend!reader

summary: you and tony had dated in college. you were the only serious girlfriend he ever had. after going your separate ways, you got a job working at the FBI, which means you hadn’t seen tony since. until NCIS and the FBI have to collaborate on a case.

word count: 2.3k

“Agent Fornell, is NCIS aware that we are assisting them on this case? You’ve told me how Agent Gibbs doesn’t like other agencies to step on his toes.” You asked your boss.

You both were currently in the elevator, riding up to the NCIS squad room. You had never worked with NCIS in all your years at the agency, and you wanted to know what to expect.

“Yes, Agent Gibbs invited us on to this case.” He informed you.

The elevator doors dinged, and you both stepped out. You followed after Fornell, since he knew his way around NCIS headquarters. “Agent Gibbs, pleasure to work with you again.” Your boss said, walking into a room with four desks.

Gibbs stood up and shook Fornell’s hand. “You must be Agent L/N. Tobias told be about you. You’ve been at the FBI for six years now?” He asked. You nodded, politely, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” You said, simply.

Gibbs gestured behind you. “That’s Special Agent McGee, and this is Ziva David.” He explained. They both came over and shook your hand.

“I read your paper about using satellite images during investigations. I thought it was really interesting.” You told McGee. He was flattered. “I’m actually working on that now trying to analyze images around our crime scene. I can show you, if you like. I could use a second opinion.” He offered.

You quickly nodded and agreed. “Here, let me borrow my colleague’s chair. He won’t mind, he has a thing for beautiful women.” McGee said, wheeling the chair from the empty desk over to his own desk.

You took a seat, and he showed you the screen. “I’ve been looking at this radius between the two crimes because we think the suspect lives in the area.” He explained, pointing at the circles on the map.

“We have an unsolved case from a few years ago that I think might be related.” You said, pulling the file out of your bag and showing it to him.

“It matches the other two crimes, and it took place right around here.” You said, gesturing towards the map.

McGee glanced over the file before typing in the third location. “That narrows our search area down by a lot.” He said, glancing over at Gibbs.

“Up on the screen, McGee,” Gibbs said, gesturing at the tv. From behind you, you heard the elevator doors ding.

“Probie, where’s my chair?” You heard a loud voice ask. The voice sounded familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why.

You turned around to see who was talking. “It’s being borrowed by Agent—” McGee started to say, as you turned around and made eye contact with Tony.

“Y/N,” Tony said, almost at a whisper. He was standing completely still, just staring. You were also frozen in your seat.

“You two know each other?” Gibbs asked, curious as to why you both were just staring at each other.

“College,” you both said at the same time.

You and Tony had dated for two years in college. He was your first real love, and you were his. You broke up because you were moving to different cities. You both preferred having a mutual breakup instead of your relationship deteriorating from doing long distance and ending with a messy breakup.

Gibbs and Fornell both snapped to get you both out of your trances.

“McGee, you and Agent L/N go work with Abby on this map. Tony and Ziva start looking into the cold case.” Gibbs delegated.

You stood up from your seat and walked over to Tony. “Hi,” you said, giving him a soft smile. You handed him the file, and he returned the smile. “It’s nice to see you,” he responded, left just as speechless as you were.

“Right this way,” McGee said, showing you to the elevator. You followed after him, looking back over your shoulder and making eye contact with Tony.

You and McGee stepped into the elevator. “So, you know Tony?” McGee asked you. You nodded your head. “Yeah, you could say that. Or at least I used to,” you told him.

“You two haven’t seen each other since college?” McGee asked, curiously. He had never seen Tony as shaken up as he was when he saw you.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, as though you didn’t specifically remember the last time you saw Tony.

It was when you brought Tony to the airport. He was leaving for DC. You both knew it’d be the last time you saw each other. It was the only time you’d seen Tony cry. You had a Hallmark-movie emotional kiss.

And you hadn’t seen him since.

You and McGee stepped out of the elevator and walked down a hallway. You both walked into Abby’s lab. Then, you noticed Abby.

She was typing on her computer, facing away from you both. “Hi, Abby.” McGee said as you both entered the room.

“McGee, did you hear? Ziva called me. Something about Tony acting weird around some girl. I was thinking secret ex-girlfriend, but that doesn’t really feel like Tony—” Abby started rambling, before McGee interrupted.

“Abby,” McGee said, loudly. He gave you a look of sympathy. Abby turned around, and her eyes went wide.

“Abby, meet Agent L/N from the FBI,” McGee introduced you.

Abby had a terrified look in her eyes. “See, you might think I was talking about you, but I was actually talking about someone else.” She lied, trying to smooth things over.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it,” you assured her. She looked relieved. The three of you discussed the map for a few minutes, and then McGee got a phone call.

“Boss wants me upstairs,” He said, leaving the lab.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” Abby apologized again. You gave her a polite smile. “You really don’t have to worry about it. Also, I thought you’d want to know that you were right.” You told her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell from her expression that she was confused. “Wait, about what?” She asked you.

“Tony,” you said, simply.

She still looked confused for another minute, and then her eyes lit up. “You’re Tony’s ex-girlfriend? You two actually dated?” Abby asked, excitedly.

You could tell how shocked she was. She ran and grabbed two chairs for you both to sit on. You took a seat, giggling at her excitement.

“So, Tony actually had a girlfriend? Like a serious girlfriend?” She asked you. You nodded your head. “Two years serious,” you replied.

Abby was shocked. She’d never heard Tony talk about a girlfriend. There wasn’t even many girls that he took on second dates. He didn’t even try to seriously date anyone after you.

What you both had was special. Tony knew he’d never be able to replicate that, so he didn’t see a point in trying. That is what led to the long string of one night stands.

Abby’s expression shifted when she saw your disappointment. She was excited to learn Tony had a girlfriend, but reminiscing about your relationship just gave you regrets.

“When you said having a secret ex-girlfriend didn’t sound like Tony, what did you mean?” You asked Abby, curiously. She didn’t know what to say.

“Obviously, I didn’t know Tony in college, but now, I’ve haven’t seen him date anyone serious. It’s a lot of first dates that don’t go anywhere. What you both had must have been really special.” She said, giving you a soft smile.

You sighed, thinking back to your relationship. It was special. You both had the perfect fit, until you didn’t.

“I should probably get back upstairs. I wouldn’t say Fornell is the most patient boss.” You said, standing up from your seat. Abby giggled to herself. “Sounds like Gibbs,” she joked.

“What sounds like Gibbs?” You heard Gibbs as he walked into the room.

“I’m gonna head back upstairs.” You said, quickly walking out of the room. You waited for the elevator. When it dinged, you went to step inside.

You bumped straight into Tony, who was trying to get out of the elevator. You both froze. “Hi, again,” you said, softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, scooting to the side to let you get in the elevator.

“I was just getting out.” He said, stepping into the hallway. You watched him as the doors started to close, when he quickly hopped inside the elevator.

He quickly flipped the off switch, turning the lights darker and bringing the elevator to a halt.

“Sorry, I just really needed to talk to you.” He said, turning to face you. You smiled at him, knowing exactly how he felt.

“So you’re working with the FBI now?” He asked, not knowing how to start this conversation. You nodded, giving him an awkward smile.

“Have you, y’know, been doing good?” You asked. Even after all these years, you still cared about him. “Yeah, I’m doing better. What about you? You ever get married?” He asked, remembering how you had talked about your perfect wedding.

You let out half of a laugh. “Nope, not married. Not even close,” you said, honestly. He nodded along, and you knew he felt the same way.

“Trouble finding the right guy?” He asked. He knew he sounded jealous, but you were his first love.

“Nope, I had the right guy. Just the wrong time,” you said, taking a step closer to him. He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. We tried to stop things from ending messily, but I don’t think it mattered. Having to say goodbye to the person you love the most is always messy.” He said, slowly grabbing one of your hands.

He was nervous, waiting for your permission. You gave him a smile and interlaced your fingers with his.

“You never did anything wrong, Tony. You were perfect. I know we both have regrets about everything, at least I do.” You told him, honestly.

He could hear your hurt in your voice. He wished there was a way to go back and undo all the pain you both had been through.

“Trust me, you are not the only one with regrets. I am always wondering what would have happened if I fought harder for us. Maybe we would have survived long distance, or maybe I should’ve just taken the jump and moved to be with you.” He rambled.

He had never told anyone any of this. He felt so relieved to get it off his chest. “I guess we’ll never know.” You said. You were realizing for the first time that you both were living in the same city now.

Tony went to say something, but stopped himself. “Actually, nevermind. That’s stupid,” he said, dropping your hand and backing up from you. He leaned against the elevator railing, worrying he’d just messed everything up.

He went to flip the on switch, but you grabbed his hand, stopping him. “It’s not stupid. What were you going to say?” You asked him.

He took a deep breath, knowing he could blow everything up with what he was about to say.

“I was just going to say that I never stopped loving you.” He confessed, looking into your eyes with a look that made you melt.

You cupped his face and kissed him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. He spun you around, so your back was pressed up against the wall.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, like they had so many times before. It all still felt natural. He pulled you closer to him. He had missed you for years, and now he felt like he couldn’t breath without you.

He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to smirk. “God, I have missed you so much,” Tony whispered, pulling out of the kiss.

“Are we giving us a second chance?” You asked him. A giant smile spread on his face. “I have dreamed about having a second chance with you for years.” He said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

Suddenly, Tony’s phone started ringing.

“Yeah, Abby, what’s up?” He asked. You heard Abby cheering loudly on the other side. Tony flinched, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“You got the girl back! You both are so cute together.” You heard her say, causing Tony’s cheeks to turn pink.

“Wait a minute. Abby are you spying through the security camera?” He asked, turning to face the camera. You heard the phone beep as she hung up.

You giggled to yourself. “Sounds like Abby is a fan.” You joked. He nodded, knowing what you said was an understatement. “She didn’t know it was you but she always knew I was hung up on someone.” He said, pulling you into a hug.

“We should probably get back before Gibbs and Fornell get suspicious.” You mumbled, into his shirt. You both pulled out of the hug, and he flipped the on switch.

You walked back into the squad room. You both were anticipating that Abby would have told the rest of the team already, but no one seemed to react.

“Boss is on his way up, he wants to talk theories.” McGee informed you both. You both nodded.

Tony grabbed your hand, which caught McGee and Ziva’s attention. They gave each other a quick look from across the room. They were both wondering what was happening.

Tony pulled his chair out for you, letting you sit down. Then, he leaned against the side of his desk.

“So?” McGee asked, looking at Tony.

Tony chuckled at his colleagues’ intrigue and curiosity.

“You may be seeing much more of Agent L/N” Tony said, causing both McGee and Ziva to smile. “We’re happy for you both,” Ziva said, smiling.

McGee walked over to you. “You’ll be needing this. I’m going to need to hear all about how Tony was in college.” McGee said, handing you his card with his phone number.

“We should all get drinks tonight. I’m sure you have lots of stories about Tony.” Ziva suggested. Tony knew he was going to be in for a long night.

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