#I haven’t had time to get past the end of the statement

[bitter-goodbyes]

I really really like episode 136 “The Puppeteer”

[c4llezz]

NOW THAT WE'VE MET AGAIN

synopsis: sophia’s been acting strange lately, and the katseye girls are determined to find out who’s been stealing all their leader’s time.

TW: drinking

genre: fluff

pairing: idol!sophia x reader

word count: 3.3k this is part 2 of if we ever meet again. check it out first!

not proofread, so expect mistakes.

impulsively you had bought a ticket to los angeles, with the only goal of finding sophia again.

the problem was that you had no way of contacting her. i mean, you had dm’d her on instagram, but after a week of not receiving any response, you decided you were not going to humiliate yourself and deleted the message.

now your only hope was to run into her on the street like all those times before. it had to be easy, right? the universe seemed to be in your favor every time you were in the same city.

it wasn’t.

for some reason, the universe did not want to cooperate with you anymore. and for the two months you’d been living in the city, you had never encountered the idol.

living in la was expensive, and the two jobs you were working on were barely enough to sustain you. note for future self: don’t buy tickets to one of the most expensive cities in the world to look for a pretty, talented girl.

anyway, you can’t go back in time to warn your past self to save more money and apply for a better job beforehand.

so here you were, one in the morning, serving strangers drink after drink, listening to problems you were definitely not interested in, and watching people your age have the time of their lives dancing with no worries about their future hangover.

while you were making small talk with your coworker, someone walked to the counter. “hey, what can i get you?” you asked. the woman in front of you looked quite familiar, curly hair braided in a ponytail, sharp straight eyebrows, and an intense gaze that was inviting but intimidating all at once.

she was clearly on the tipsy side, her eyelids moving more slowly than normal when she blinked at you. “you are new here,” she said, not as a question but rather a statement. “i come here frequently and i haven’t seen you before.”

you shrugged “i’ve been here for a few months now, maybe you casually come on the days i don’t work”

“yeah probably.” she said “well, cute new bartender, can i get a shot of… whatever you want?”

you frowned, glancing around to see if maybe you could spot someone who might look like a friend of the girl. you noticed a few people looking her way, but none looked like a concerned friend, more like they were waiting to shoot their shot. “are you here with your friends?”

“i was,” she started, “but they had to leave. i already called someone to pick me up.”

as if on cue, her phone started ringing, and she answered the call. you obviously could not hear the other end of the line, but for the answers of the drunk girl, you figured the person who was picking her up had arrived and was waiting outside.

when she hung up, she sighed, disappointed, “i have to go. but you owe me a drink, and don't think i’m going to forget.”

you chuckled, looking at your watch, “my shift just ended. i could walk you to the door, i don’t think is safe for you to walk all the way there alone.”

she accepted your offer and waited for you to grab your things.

when you exited the club, you saw a bright red mustang parked just a couple feet away. damn. a woman was leaning on the driver's door, while another stood closer to your workplace. both were wearing caps and face masks, so you couldn’t see their faces (not that there was too much light on the street either).

the one closer to you approached quickly, “manon, come on!”

even behind the mask and hat, you could recognize those eyes anywhere.

that’s why manon had looked so familiar, she was part of the group sophia was in. and after you had done a little research, you learned a little bit about the group, and more about the girl you had met three — now four — times already.

“sophia! meet my new friend, isn't she hot? she has a skateboard too, look!”

sophia finally looked at the woman next to her friend. she planned on apologizing for any disturbance the older girl might have caused, but when she locked eyes with you, the words died on her tongue.

after a few seconds, and manon going to some nearby bushes to throw up, she finally got out of her daze. “oh lord” she sighed, looking at where the swizz girl had gone, the driver girl now rubbing circles on her back.

you cleared your throat catching the attention of the black haired girl. “i’ve been waiting for you to appear where i work magically.”

she giggled, “i tend to do that. although it is always an accident.”

when you exited the club, you saw a bright red mustang parked just a couple feet away, damn. a woman was leaning on the driver's door while another one was closer to the door of your work place, both of them were wearing caps and face mask so you couldn’t see their faces (not that there was too much light on the street either). the one closer to you approached quickly, “manon, come on!”

even behind the mask and hat, you could recognise those eyes anywhere.

that’s why manon had looked so familiar, she was part of the group sophia was in. and after you had done a little research, you learned a little bit about the group, and more about the girl you had met three, now four, times already.

“sophia! meet my new friend, isn't she hot?. she has a skateboard too, look!”

sophia finally looked at the woman next to her friend. she planned on apologizing for any disturbance the older girl might have caused, but when she locked eyes with you, the words died on her tongue.

after a few seconds, and manon going to some near bushes to throw up, she finally got out of her daze. “oh lord” she sighed, looking at where the swizz girl had gone, the driver now rubbing circles on her back.

you cleared your throat, gaining the attention of the black haired girl, “i’ve been waiting for you to magically appear where i work.”

she giggled, “i tend to do that. although it is always an accident.”

“accident or not, it’s always nice to talk to you.” then you added, “don’t think i didn’t notice when you took my wallet out of my jacket pocket last time.”

“damn it. i thought i had been subtle with it!”

there was a honk, and you both looked at the car where manon was sitting with her head resting against the window, probably asleep.

“i need to go. thanks for taking care of her, by the way.”

you saw her get into the passenger seat. and when the mustang took off, you placed your skateboard on the street and pushed off behind it. sophia watched you from the side view mirror.

“why were you talking to that girl for so long?” daniela asked while driving.

the filipina answered casually, “i was just thanking her for taking care of manon.”

the dancer seemed satisfied with her answer, and if she wasn’t, she didn't say anything else, which was nice. after all, sophia could now think about you without any distractions.

now that sophia knew where you worked, she planned to visit you, casually. normally she wouldn’t go out on nights when she knew she had early rehearsals, but she couldn’t wait any longer to see you. so she made a stupid excuse and left the house before anyone could question her.

when she arrived at the club and saw the crowd outside, she seriously considered going back and getting under her covers to get a full night of peaceful sleep. she shook her head, she was already here.

after getting inside and navigating around the sweaty bodies, she reached the bar. where she knew you would be.

manon, even though she had a massive headache, told her you were a new bartender at the place she often visited on friday nights. sophia figured your shift would be on the same night they had gone to pick up the oldest of the group.

she was proven right as soon as she took a seat at the counter and saw you nodding at something a woman sitting a few chairs aways said, with a smile that looked more like a grimace. sophia watched as the blonde woman leaned her head on her hand and said something that Sophia couldn’t hear, but she did notice your eyes go wide. even with the flashing lights around her, she noticed a red tint appear on your cheeks.

another bartender came up to the filipina, probably about to ask what she wanted to order, but sophia was already out of her seat and walking towards you.

the moment the singer was in your eyesight, all your attention was on her, and a real smile crept onto your face. something sophia took great pride in.

the woman at the bar seemed to notice this, and with a sigh, gave up her seat, which sophia took without hesitation.

you offered sophia a shot “on the house,” you said.

she knew she shouldn’t accept it; she did have an early practice the next day, but she did anyway. still, after she told you of her plans for the morning, you made sure to keep her sober. there was no way you were going to be responsible for a bad rehearsal.

you spent your shift mixing drinks and pouring shots to strangers while carrying on a conversation with someone you actually wanted to know. and at the end of your shift— it was two in the morning by the way— as always, you walked her home.

she noticed your missing helmet and the skateboard under your arm. you told her you’d sold the bike before moving to la to have extra cash, and the board was the same one you’d been riding the day you first met.

on your way to the katseye house, you even tried to teach her how to ride it. it ended with you on the ground smiling stupidly, and her on top of you, laughing loudly.

that night, you also got your stolen - or borrowed, as sophia had said - wallet back.

sophia woke up that day smiling even more than usual, despite the lack of sleep. her members obviously noticed, and they were curious about where their leader had gone the night before.

their curiosity grew even more when, after practice ended, sophia did not stay another hour like she always did, but instead would be the first to leave the building. at first, no one said anything. but eventually, lara asked casually, receiving an equally casual answer. they were disappointed, to say the least.

over the next two months, sophia would do one of three things.

leave as soon as practice ended.

suddenly get up from the couch, and go out of the house for at least 3 hours.

go out at 6 pm and get back at 3 in the morning.

all the girls made an effort to find out what, or rather who, was taking all the filipina’s time. megan followed her around. lara tried to check her texts. yoonchae even asked her if she was going on a date, and she only got a laugh and a what are you talking about?

everyone knows sophia tells yoonchae everything. so if she didn’t know, something was up.

their last resort was to find out where she went at night. that task was assigned to manon.

manon’s plan was simple: take sophia out to a club so she wouldn’t go to her usual spot, and then get her drunk enough to confess.

the only problem? getting sophia to agree.

“sure, i’ll go with you”

“come on, it’s just—wait, did you say yes?” sophia nodded “wow, i thought it would be harder.”

manon suggested her go to club, which she had last gone to when daniela and sophia had picked her up, and the black girl had thrown up on the bushes outside while a hot bartender was watching.

sophia acted as if she preferred to go anywhere but there, then agreed anyway.

as soon as they entered, manon made a beeline to the bar. “oh no,” she said, turning to look at the other girl “the bartender from last time is here!” she then noticed the filipina was already looking at you and she was… waving?

you walked up to them with a bright smile, “manon! haven’t seen you in a while. sophia, good to see you again.” you greeted them, wiping the counter.

sophia casually leaned her elbows on it. “hi y/n, your best cocktail, please?” sophia asked, while manon just observed, confused.

no way in just a five minute interaction two months ago you could be this close. manon didn’t even know your name, and her friend was here asking for your best cocktail? sophia didn’t even want to come here in the first place!

you started working on sophia’s drink, and manon stood there blinking slowly.

you carefully placed a blue martini in front of sophia, then pured a clear shot for manon, who look at it with a raised eyebrow, nonetheless she accepted the drink. “last time you asked for whatever i wanted. here it is.” the girl in braids was a little surprise by how well you remembered your only interaction.

she gagged, “ugh, what is this?”

you laughed at her reaction, “colombian alcohol. didn’t you try it in medellin?”

okay this was getting weird. manon could’ve been a little out of her when she went up to the bar last time, but she was hundred percent sure she did not tell you anything about her life, and if she somehow had, the last thing she would’ve told you was their trip to medellin to film a music video.

panicking, she turned to her leader, trying to subtly tell her that maybe they should leave because the hot bartender was actually a creepy bartender. but sophia did not even glance in her direction; she was too busy looking at the stalker in front of them!

“oh, i remember!” sophia suddenly exclaimed, “you said it was the best, but it tasted horrible. you didn’t even take one yourself!”

you laughed “i was driving you to the hotel! you don’t drink and drive, do you?.” manon was only thinking one thing: what the fuck is going on?

“drink it now,” sophia dared you.

then you started arguing about how you could not drink while working to which the other girl said no one would notice. after arguing back and forth— more flirting like back and forth —, you caved and took the shot of whatever disgusting thing you had given manon, without even flinching. sophia giggled at your smug expression.

how did this happen? the black girl didn’t know, but she was sure of one thing, and the group chat needed to be aware of it too: sophia has a gf!!!!!!

the other girls’ response was instant. lots of messages were sent in just seconds, but sophia did not pick up her phone to see what all the sudden notifications were about, she kept talking with you.

even though manon wanted to know everything from the start, with detail, she decided to leave you be and went to the dance floor. she was going to get her answers later. she’d make sure of it.

sophia joined her almost an hour later with a different drink in hand, a red one, saying something about it being more crowded than usual, and you being busy making drinks. how did she know what the usual was? manon would find out!

“so… the bartender?” manon wiggled her eyebrows teasingly

“what about her?”

“you tell me ms. ‘your best cocktail, please’.”

sophia rolled her eyes “we’ve been talking.”

“‘we’ve been talking’” manon mocked her, voice higher than usual. “since when do you talk to bartenders?”

sophia shrugged, “you kind of made me talk to her when you were throwing your insides out.”

the older girl grimaced at the memory, “okay, fair point. but, you are here talking to her as if you’ve known her all your life!”

“it’s part of her job,” sophia argued.

“no, her job is to serve drinks to customers,” manon started, “not to flirt with them. and it certainly isn’t to know their life story.”

“she’s just attentive,” she said casually.

manon, however, was not buying it “yeah, attentive. and she is also what? psychic? she knew we went to medellin!”

sophia sipped her drink “i mean, we are famous, it’s on the internet. or maybe you told her last time.”

“sophia” manon’s tone turned stern. she was clearly tired of the filipina dodging her questions. but sophia was not going down easily either. manon sighed, if sophia wasn’t going to spill, she would keep asking until the other girl got tired.

“okay” she said slowly, “where did you meet her?”

“here”

“just here?”

another sip “mostly”

“sophia!”

the girl groaned “fine! i’ve run into her a couple times before. i need another drink.” sophia walked up to the bar, manon following closely.

you noticed them immediately, just like when they first came into the club. “back so soon?” you asked, a smirk on your face.

“manon’s being annoying.”

with an offended look the accused girl said “i’m being curious.” they started bickering so fast you couldn’t understand a word.

you looked between them amused. sophia had told you everything about her relationship with all the girls. how they were like her sisters, and she had a strong their bond was. they definetly looked like sisters at the moment.

suddenly manon gasped so loud that even people around turned to look at you. “wallet girl!” she screamed, pointing straight at you.

the music seemed to get low at her comment. sophia’s face shifted from playful to shocked.

“you were the girl who stole sophia’s wallet when we were in dream academy! i remember you now, i was watching through the window. she had ten dollars, did you pay her back?”

now it was your turn to look offended “i did not steal her wallet that time! how many times do i have to say it!”

manon raised one eyebrow “so you stole it another time?” you looked away, scratching your neck “sophia! you are dating a criminal! and she stole your wallet, how fucked is that?”

“manon!” she hissed “lower your voice. she is not a criminal, and she never stole anything.”

“i stole your heart” you winked, sophia turned to you with an unamused look “sorry.” you added quickly

manon now had a shit eating grin on her face “the girls are going to love this.” she said fishing out her phone and walking away to update everyone.

“well, secrets out,” sophia said sighing.

you chuckled, “at least you don’t have to keep sneaking around?”

she smiled, “i guess.” she looked around, nervously fidgeting with her hands “if you want to, you could meet them. officially.”

“family introductions already?” you said teasingly, but then smiled warmly at the girl at the other side of the counter “i would love to.”

“great. prepare for endless teasing.”

“how bad can it get?”

“really bad,” she answered honestly. “i think i’ll leave now, gotta make sure manon doesn’t run her mouth too much.”

you laughed “i’ll text you when my shift ends.”

sophia then leaned over the counter and left a kiss on your cheek “i’ll be waiting.”

with that she walked over to her friend, who had her jaw on the floor, furiously typing on her phone. with a final wave, sophia left the club, manon asking a million questions at her side.

[rose-pearls]

The perils of love

Summary: being in love with Luke seemed to be a bad idea as you realise that he doesn't seem to be interested. But as you get ready to move on from love entirely your father decides to appear and two people fall for you.

Main Taglist : @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Part 2

Luke Castellan, everyone knew him at camp either for his sword skills or just his kind smiles for every camper that walked into the Hermes cabin. You had fallen for him the moment you met him, sweet brown eyes and a kind smile had you into a puddle. 

You had been twelve, wandering around the Hermes cabin, waiting desperately for your parent to claim you but the days went by, and you still were there. The little girls crush however didn’t went by but grew stronger every day you saw the boy who slowly turned into a man that had all the girls going crazy over him.  

He had been kind to you but there was always a look that you couldn’t decipher, until today that was.

“So, where is your number one fan Luke?”, you hear Chris say in a teasing tone and after a moment you hear Chris say your name, as if to make it clear it was you. 

“I don’t know and frankly I don’t have the time to care right now,” Luke says after letting out a sigh, but you felt your chest tighten at the words. Chris snorts at the words and you don’t expect what he says next.

“You know that there is a betting pool as to when the both of you are going to date,” you don’t know how Luke reacts, as you are practically one with the wall, but you hear him snort.

“Please, she is a sweet girl, but I would never date her. I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes she can just be a little-”, he seems to be trying to find his words and as you wait for it you feel tears brimming in your eyes at his previous statement.

“Clingy? I mean she is practically everywhere you are.”, the words are like a bullet to your heart, particularly when you hear Luke agree.

“I know right, I mean I know that she is still part of the Hermes cabin as she hasn’t been claimed yet but still,” you try to blink the tears away, not willing to cry as you hear the words being said by the man you had always looked up to. 

“Maybe she will never be claimed, I mean after three years,” Chris says, and you can hear the grimace in his voice, he says it with such carelessness as if you haven’t been thinking about the same thing every night for the past three years, wondering what was wrong with you.

“We’ll see what happens I guess, but maybe it would be good for her to be in another cabin,” Luke says, he looks like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Chris adds one last phrase to their conversation.

“Or better for you,” there is a quiet hum of agreement and that is the only thing you need before leaving the cabin quietly, the book that you had come for quickly forgotten.

You knew it was pitiful, the fact that they all seemed to know that you liked the Hermes boy and that they all pitied you for it. Because in the end the boy would never go for you, he had a hundred girls waiting for him and yet here you were hoping for the impossible.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, but you quickly brush them away, not wanting to cry after what had happened, you needed to be strong now. It was time for you to get over that stupid crush and get on with your life, maybe if you trained more your godly parent would finally recognize you and claim you.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, you suddenly hear someone say behind you and you turn around to find Annabeth looking at you with worried eyes.

“Thinking, the lake always seems to sooth me,” you say, the words coming a bit weaker than you intended them too. The girl simply nods at your words before sitting down next to you.

“What about you?”, you quietly ask her, and she lets out a sigh.

“Needed to get out a little bit, I can only strategise so much before going crazy,” she says with a small smile, and you can’t help but smile at her words.

“I’m sure your strategy will be incredible, as always,” you tell her and she simply nods, looking too far into her thoughts.

“Chiron is thinking of splitting up the Hermes cabin,” she suddenly says, and you turn to look at her in surprise.

“Really? How so?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering if this is maybe your chance to get a bit away from a certain Hermes boy.

“He thinks that the unclaimed children and children of minor gods should get the chance to chose in which team they want to be,” she looks conflicted, and you can understand why, this could mean less people for the blue team, her team.

“It seems like a kind gesture,” you can’t help but say and Annabeth nods in agreement.

“It is, although he could’ve said it sooner, now we all need to find a different strategy and we are going crazy with figuring out who will be on our team,” she seems overwhelmed, and you can’t help but put your hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down.

“Hey, calm down it will all be alright,” you tell her, and she takes a deep breath before slowly nodding in agreement.

“I know, I just don’t want to lose,” she says with a pout, and you can finally see the twelve-year-old she really is, that childlike excitement at the thought of capture the flag.

The both of you are deep in thought before her voice breaks the silence, her voice small as she talks.

“Which team are you choosing?”, it was probably a valid question to ask, you were unclaimed so you could technically choose which team to be on, but you just couldn’t get the previous conversation you had heard out of your head.

“The fact that you aren’t saying anything makes me think that you are going to go on the red team,” it seems like she is trying to tease you but there is some sort of hurt woven into her words.

“Don’t take it personally,” you can’t help but say, as much as you would’ve liked staying on the blue team you just couldn’t bear to be that close to Luke after what you had heard. You didn’t know what you would be doing tonight as you were sleeping in the same cabin as always, but he wouldn’t pay attention to you not unless you went to him.

“Did something happened with Luke?”, the carefully asked question makes you look at Annabeth with wide eyes, she had an understanding look in her eyes and you couldn’t help but curse the fact that she was Athena’s daughter.

“Nothing happened, I just realised that maybe I should get to know other people and that maybe it would get me out of my comfort zone,” there are a lot of things unsaid, Annabeth knows it too. Luckily, she doesn’t know of the conversation you had heard, or the fact that the words had cut you deeper than you could’ve ever thought they would. 

“You should probably tell Chiron and the red team, I heard that they were planning a strategy evening to talk about what they were going to do tomorrow,” you try to find anger in Annabeth’s eyes but there is only understanding and a lingering sadness that seems to disappear as you get up.

“Good idea, I will be doing that right now. Good luck on the strategy and don’t drive yourself crazy Annabeth you will do great,” you tell her, and a sweet smile appears on her lips as she nods slowly making you smile at her.

“Don’t be a stranger!”, she yells as you are about to leave, and you turn around to smile at her.

“I won’t!”, she looks reassured at the words before turning back to the water, leaving you to go towards Chiron office. 

--

“A little birdie told me you were on the red team,” you hear someone say and turn around to find Clarisse smirking at you.

“Would that little birdie be Chiron?”, you ask, feeling breathless after trying to stab the dummy about a hundredth time with your sword.

“I don’t reveal my sources princess,” she says with a smirk while you feel your cheeks heat up, you tell yourself it’s because of the work out you just did.

“We have a meeting tonight, after dinner at the Ares cabin,” she says while looking around the rink before picking up a sword.

“I’ll be there,” you tell her, expecting the girl to leave you alone but she just comes closer to you.

“After that there is a movie night and a sleepover, one of the Aphrodite kids managed to convince Chiron to allow it,” the words leave you confused for a moment, how would you even have a movie night with all these people.

“Only a few people are invited for that part,” she clarifies, and you feel breathless at the sight of her warm brown eyes, seemingly forgetting about other brown eyes.

“How come I am invited?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering why the Ares girl suddenly seemed sweet to you when she was practically attacking anyone else. 

“Don’t ask too many questions or you’ll be uninvited princess,” the nickname rolls of her tongue in a way that makes your cheeks go red, once again.

“Fine I’ll stop asking questions and just come with my pajama’s,” you tell her, and a satisfied grin makes his way on her lips.

“Good, now back to serious stuff you were holding your sword the wrong way,” she says like it’s a fact, as if she was pointing out that the sky was blue.

“No, I wasn’t!”, you can’t help but say looking at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, it is, let me help you fix it. I need the best people on my team after all,” you get ready to object but as you feel her get behind you putting her hand over yours on the sword to put your hand correctly you find yourself speechless.

The next hour is spent fighting against each other, but you can’t stop laughing as Clarisse tells you stories of her siblings to try and distract you, which ultimately works as you often end up on your ass. You don’t even seem to notice another pair of brown eyes looking at you, farther away, brows furrowed as he looks at the scene in front of him.

--

“Welcome to the exclusive sleepover,” you hear a soft voice say and you turn around to find Silena smiling kindly at you, two glasses in her hands before giving one to you.

“Thank you, guess they really were exclusive as I had never heard of them before,” you say, feeling a bit nervous as you look around the room only to find Clarisse in a heated discussion with another Aphrodite girl.

“Clarisse only invites people that she trusts or likes, which isn’t many, but she does cares for them,” Silena smiles at the Ares girl in front of you and you can’t help but do the same, Clarisse always seemed to be angry but in that moment, she seemed far more softer.

“I’m glad she trusts me,” you say, somehow missing the look Silena gives you, a look of confusion as you seem to have missed her clue on Clarisse liking you.

Clarisse had always been discrete about it, but Silena had caught her looking at you far too often to not know about it. Her fingers always seemed to itch when you were sword fighting, as if she was itching to get your posture right and to be able to touch you even for just a few seconds. You only had eyes for the Castellan boy, or it seemed that way until yesterday when Chiron told them that you would be on their team. Silena didn’t ask much of her mother but in that moment, she couldn’t help but ask her mother for help to get the both of you together. Clarisse deserved her happy ending and you deserved someone who would love you for who you were.

She gets woken from her thoughts as she hears Clarisse talking to you, there is a nervousness in her gestures as she pushes her hair behind her ear, but you don’t seem to realize it as you recount a story. Silena quietly gets up from her spot, and sends and encouraging look towards Clarisse, who seems a bit more at ease now. 

--

Capture the flag is a mess, more than the last time but you try not to let your mind wander too long. A boy that you think is from the Hephaestus cabin runs towards you and you sigh in annoyance before starting to fight against him, quickly ‘killing’ him and making him surrender. 

You had been tasked with trying to find the blue flag, but it seemed as if Annabeth had found a really good spot this time, and she had put more people in defense. After a while you wondered if you had the wrong hunch until you saw something blue flickering in the reflection of your sword. As you turned to look behind you, you saw the blue flag but weirdly there was no one around it.

“This feels like a trap,” you can’t help but whisper under your breath as you try to hide behind the bushes but a blade against your neck makes you stop in your steps.

“Sorry, but I need to do this,” you hear someone say and you turn around to find a sheepish Percy looking at you.

“Hi Percy,” you say with a kind smile and the boy smiles back, looking reassured that you aren’t mad or swinging your sword at him.

“How are you doing?”, you can’t help but ask, you hadn’t seen him since he had been claimed by Poseidon, but the boy seemed healthy.

“Good, well as good as you can when you learn that your father is one of the big three’s and that your life will be a hellhole,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you can’t help but snort.

“Still as sarcastic I see,” you can’t help but say while laughing and a sheepish grin forms itself on his lips.

“Can’t help it,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s a shame you aren’t on our team,” he says quietly, and you smile softly, the two of you had talked a lot when he had arrived, and you felt close to him.

“Maybe next time,” you tell him and the boy smiles at the answer before asking you a question and the two of you talk for a moment before you hear a battle cry and see the red team suddenly making their way in the clearing, the blue team also appearing.

Percy and you look at each other with wide eyes before you take out your sword.

“If you don’t say anything about this, I won’t say anything,” Percy nods quickly and the both of you break away from the tree you were behind before joining your team as Percy joins his.

An Apollo girl comes running towards you, but you quickly manage to disarm her, others following behind her, but you are in such a haze that you don’t realize how close you are getting to the flag. That is until you are met with a familiar blade, Luke’s. 

The boy is looking at you, slightly out of breath from the fighting just like you.

“You can always abandon now sweetheart,” he says and can’t help but blush slightly at the familiar nickname. 

“No chance Castellan, give me your worst,” this seems to make the boy laugh before he quickly wields his swords, yours clashing against his in familiar movements. You had fought many times against Luke as he had taught you how to fight but you had a new trick up your sleeve that Clarisse had taught you. She had told you that his left leg was his weakness, a bruise that had never really fully recovered. 

So, when the opportunity presents itself, you wield your sword against his left leg, making sure not to hurt him too much. But as you hit the spot Luke winces in pain and his sword leaves his hand. You don’t think at that point and simply continue straight to the flag, whispering a soft ‘sorry’ as you go to the Hermes boy.

You manage to take the flag before seeing Percy coming towards you with his sword, you expect the hit, but he seems transfixed, looking at something above you. There is a loud silence, on a battlefield that was filled with battle cries just a second ago.

Chiron’s voice suddenly comes up, suddenly saying your name.

“Daughter of Zeus, king of the gods,” the rest of his words are lost as you look up, only to see the symbol of Zeus above your head, your father’s symbol.

You didn’t know how to feel, you had been waiting for so long but now that it was happening you just felt lost. Why was he claiming you right now?

“Congratulations! Seems like we are cousins now,” you suddenly hear Percy say, he has a bright smile on his lips, but there is also sadness in his eyes. It takes you a few seconds to understand why, you were now a child of the big three, which meant your life was about to be a hellhole as Percy had said.

“Always though there was something familiar between the two of us,” you try to say in a teasing tone, but it falls flat, Percy nodding in understanding.

As you turn around to look at the rest of the camp you see Luke looking at you with wide brown eyes, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You turn your gaze towards Clarisse who is looking at you with a proud smile and something else that you can’t quite understand.

There was surely a lot of trouble coming but not the one you were expecting, it would be far more complicated than monsters or a father that decided to appear after fifteen years. Matters of the heart were after all the most complicated of all, particularly between a daughter of Zeus, a daughter of Ares and a son of Hermes. 

[cinnamon7girl7]

"WE DON'T BELIEVE YOU, GOJO!!!"

At this point, saying Satoru Gojo was famous on the internet was an understatement. With thirteen million followers on Twitch, a YouTube channel full of viral clips, and a legion of fans who followed him everywhere, he was basically a digital celebrity. No one would’ve imagined that the guy with the “just woke up” face and loud laugh would make it this far—least of all, him.

Gojo had started streaming a couple of years ago, at first as a joke. He uploaded short clips playing with his friends, no cam, just a voice that sounded way too confident for someone constantly losing in Valorant. But everything changed the moment he decided to turn on his camera and show his face—then the internet fell at his feet. There was something about him… that mix of shameless charm, zero embarrassment, and a cocky smile that seemed custom-made to break hearts through the screen.

Now, he streamed four times a week, usually at night, starting around 8 p.m. and sometimes staying on past midnight. Mondays were for “chatting with chat,” as he liked to say—sometimes he didn’t even play, just commented on random stuff, reacted to videos, and laughed at the dumbest comments. Wednesdays were shooter days: Valorant, Overwatch 2, sometimes a little Call of Duty. Fridays were for story-driven games like Detroit: Become Human or Until Dawn, where he screamed like it was the end of the world every time a character died. Sundays were pure chaos: games with followers, silly challenges, and an outrageous amount of bits flying across the screen.

His room was part of the charm. The camera always showed the same angle: Gojo in his white gamer chair, wearing black headphones that contrasted with his messy white hair. Behind him, a wall decorated with blue LED lights, shelves packed with Funkos and little figurines, and a giant plushie of a cat with a suspicious face that always made an appearance at some point during the stream. Sometimes he wore sunglasses, just “for the drama.” Other times he showed up with wet hair, like he’d just gotten out of the shower and couldn’t care less. Always in oversized T-shirts or hoodies, most of them printed with memes or ridiculous quotes like “you won because I let you.”

That Monday night, he was in his usual talking stream. Almost 580,000 people were tuned in.

—Hey, hey, wait, wait —Gojo spoke with a lazy smile, leaning back in his chair—. Why are you saying that if I let my hair grow longer I look like a chaotic elf? Respect!

The chat was going a thousand miles an hour, emojis, conspiracy theories about whether he slept more than three hours a day. Affectionate insults, threats of eternal love, greetings from countries he didn’t even remember visiting. All the usual stuff.

Gojo slowly spun his chair from side to side while finishing adjusting his headset. He wore a gray hoodie with a stretched neck, like he had put it on without looking. His hair, messier than ever, fell disorderly over his forehead, and the dark glasses rested on the tip of his nose, letting his eyes peek over with a mischievous smile.

—Okay, let’s see, what do we have today?

@ILoveYouSoWhat: DO YOU SLEEP OR JUST EXIST?

@LoveRamen: I dreamed about you last night and woke up sad

@GojoEndMe: why are you so handsome today? Stop making me suffer

@SayHiOrIExplode: SAY SOMETHING, SENSEI, SAY SOMETHINGGG

—But I haven’t said anything and you’re all already upset! —he laughed, resting his elbows on the desk while reading the chaos on screen—. Weren’t I unbearable? Weren’t you all over it already?

@ShinyHair: yes, but your existence drags us

@MyPaleKing: you’re too close to the camera. My knees are shaking

@GojoFanClub: speaking for everyone when I say I hate you lovingly

—Wow. Strong statements for a Monday —he replied, raising an eyebrow—. I wake up, turn on the stream, gift you this beauty in 4K and all I get are threats and confused love declarations.

@StopThisMan: I can’t take this man anymore

@VirtualKiss: your existence is emotional violence

Gojo burst out laughing and leaned back, letting his chair squeak dramatically.

—See why I don’t stream every day? I need time to emotionally recover from the bullying you all do to me. Where’s the sincere affection? Where’s the pure love?

@BlindLove: I do love you, even if you’re unbearable

@ProfGojo: sincere affection? You only understand chaos

@BiteMeGojo: you give me love and trauma at the same time

—Love and trauma? What a strong phrase to put on a t-shirt! Wait... I’m going to write that down!

He made the dramatic gesture of writing with an invisible pen, as if he really had a notebook at hand.

—“Love and trauma since 199... well, since a few years ago. With love, Satoru.”

@IWantThatShirt: I’ll buy it RIGHT NOW

@AdorableMenace: stop monetizing our mental health

—But you all come to me! I didn’t even go looking for you. I was calm, playing calmly, and suddenly I wake up with thousands of you yelling “hit me or kiss me,” what am I supposed to do with that?!

@LetUsLoveYou: just kiss us all already

@GimmeStreamGimmeLife: we chose you as our favorite trauma

Gojo snapped his fingers, pointing at the screen as if he could really see them.

—Now I understand why my psychologist always seems so exhausted when I see him. He looks at me like “I don’t get paid enough to listen to what you tell me.”

@SatoruSpillIt: that’s because you didn’t tell him you’re a streamer

@SpicyTeaTime: does your psychologist know you’re a streamer?

—Of course. It was his idea, actually. He told me: “Maybe you should channel that need for attention in a healthier way.” And look at me now! Surrounded by thousands of strangers yelling things at me... total emotional healing.

@SawYouFirst: so it was the psychologist’s idea... we love him

@TherapistOfThePeople: thanks for everything, doc

He stayed silent for a moment, watching the number of viewers keep rising. It was already over 670,000 live. He noticed, but didn’t comment on it. He just smiled.

—Hey… can I ask something?

The chat paused for just a second. Just enough for someone to write:

@AskSensei: obviously, whatever you want

—Do you all watch all my streams? Like, every single one? Or is there someone here who just arrived, like, casually?

@CameFromTikTok: you showed up in an edit and now I can’t escape

@FromApexWithLove: I’ve been here since they were killing you in the lobby

@NoviceInLove: I came for a clip and stayed for your face

@NoEscape: I arrived yesterday and already sold my soul

—Ha! I love you guys. Well, not literally. Imagine if I could say that without legal consequences… “Streamer marries 13 million people.” Can you imagine? My big digital wedding. The first kiss would be delayed.

@IWannaBeTheBrideNumberOne: I want to be bride number one!

@LetThemKiss: can you kiss through the stream?

@ToxicMoon: no, but I can kiss the screen anyway

Gojo brought his hand to his chest with a hurt expression.

—You’re killing me. This is no longer bullying: it’s emotional homicide. And you know what’s worst? I like it. I’m an accomplice.

@ToxicButLoyal: we’re your favorite crime

@LaughButConfess: you laugh a lot but don’t say if you have a girlfriend

The comment went by fast. Almost unnoticed. But he read it.

And he didn’t answer immediately.

He just stared at the screen a little longer than usual, with a half frozen, half amused smile. The silence didn’t last even three seconds, but on the internet that’s eternal.

@I_SAW_IT: he saw it… he read it… and stayed silent

@WE_DONT_BELIEVE_YOU: there it is, the silence gave him away

@MAKE_HIM_CONFESS: don’t run away, bald guy with powers

Gojo squinted. Tilted his head. Then chuckled softly.

—See how you are? One thing is to call me handsome, and another to corner me like this is a live trial. What’s next? Bringing a lawyer to the stream?

@ChatAccuses: Satoru Gojo, accused of hiding love information

@WE_DEMAND_PROOF: Do you have a girlfriend or not?

@NOBODY_BELIEVES_YOU: this man is way too happy to be single

Gojo clicked his tongue, spun in his chair, covered his face with one hand, and murmured:

—And so, ladies and ladies… the war has begun.

The silence barely lasted a second. Maybe two. Then, as if someone had pressed a giant red button, the chat exploded into absolute chaos.

@SugarCookie: Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend.

@DonutKarma: What war? What did you do, Satoru?

@TenderRamen: YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?! WHAT WAR?

@GojoTheories: The one who stays silent… has a girlfriend.

@SadEyes: Is what I’m reading real or am I projecting?

Satoru raised both eyebrows as he read the messages flying across the screen. The monitor’s glow reflected in his eyes, now sparkling with pure amusement. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a dangerous smile on his lips.

—But what does one thing have to do with the other? —he said in a relaxed tone, though not hiding the laugh escaping from the corner of his mouth—. I was talking about the emotional war unleashed in this stream… who mentioned girlfriends?

@EmoPanda: WHAT WAR? THE EMOTIONAL ONE YOU’RE CAUSING ME?!

@LoggingOff: Gojo, DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?

@SpiritualSandal: CONFIRM OR DENY, NOW.

@FuriousPikachu: don’t evade the question, master

He let out a full laugh, with that laugh of his that seemed contagious even if you had no idea what was going on. He turned his chair a bit, moving closer to the microphone, as if he really had something important to confess.

—What if I do? —he asked boldly, raising an eyebrow—. What if I do have one?

@InnocentMe: CRY WITH ME

@DestroyedFan: I don’t know how to deal with this

@RealSandal: Don’t make me throw the sandal, Gojo

@ShockedRabbit: Are you telling me I was THE OTHER without knowing?

He rubbed the back of his neck with a half guilty, half delighted smile. Like he was enjoying every second of this collective reaction.

—Come on, it’s not that big a deal. —He shrugged with a dramatic sigh—. I just said “what if I do?” I haven’t confirmed anything, technically.

@Conspiracy3000: That’s what someone WHO HAS a girlfriend would say

@DramaQueen: the one who doubts, HAS

@DisappointedCake: I’m listening to Taylor Swift while reading this

@NotNormal: You said it. You sold yourself out, Gojo

Satoru rested his elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers, and rested his chin on his hands. He looked at the screen as if the whole world was judging him in an interrogation room. His lips formed a sly, almost tender smile, but in his gaze there was a spark of mischief no one was going to put out.

—Since when is having a partner a federal crime? —he murmured, in a mock victim tone—. I literally just said “what if I do,” and now they want to exile me.

@NoPeaceSinceToday: I just wanted to watch you play. Now I’m in therapy.

@BackgroundNetflix: This is better than any series

@NotAJoke: Say it. Just say it. Do you have a girlfriend or not?

And that’s when he decided.

He closed his eyes for a second, took a breath, and then leaned even closer to the mic, as if about to tell the biggest secret of his life. He spoke with a soft, sincere voice… but without losing the humor.

—Yes.

He dropped it with such dangerous calm it seemed scripted. Then shrugged, as if he hadn’t just destroyed thousands of hearts with a single word.

—Yes, I have a girlfriend. For six years.

The chat froze for a fraction of a second before going into spontaneous combustion.

@AreYouKiddingMe: error 404

@IAlreadyLeft: Nope. It can’t be. It’s not real.

@BrokenFantasy: SIX? SIX YEARS? SIX YEARS.

@MomI’mCrying: don’t talk to me, I’m mourning

@MySoulHurts: I felt like running in the rain

— I know, I know — he said, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture that didn’t help at all —. It all happened very fast… six years ago. I met her, I fell in love, and since then, here we are. And it’s not like I wanted to hide her, okay? It’s just that… you all are intense. Look at you right now.

He laughed alone seeing how fast the chat was moving. The chaos. The suffering. And yet, there was affection behind it all. That was the price of being loved by so many people: even good news hurt.

— She lives with me, puts up with me, makes me laugh… and she cooks better than anyone. I adore her. A lot. And no, I didn’t make her up. This is not a marketing plan or a strategy for a movie. It’s real.

@CollectivePanic: I’m dizzy.

@CollectivePanic: I’m sweating.

@CollectivePanic: I fell off the couch.

@ShockedCat: What do you mean SHE LIVES WITH YOU?

@BrokenHeart: I lost the light in my eyes

@I’mLeaving: This is my last stream, it was an honor

— What did you expect? That I would live alone and eat instant ramen my whole life?

He put a hand on his chest as if he really felt hurt.

— You don’t believe me! Do you really not believe me? After everything we’ve shared?

@DoubleStandard: I can’t be happy for you if I’m not the one

@IDon’tBelieveYouGojo: LIAR. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.

@That’sFake: Gojo, you don’t know what true love is

@HaterButLoyal: This is a phase. Tomorrow he’ll deny it.

He laughed, the kind of laugh he only let out when everything seemed like an eternal joke.

— Want an official announcement? A blood-signed document? A romantic stream by candlelight?

@YourExInSilence: YES

@GiveItToMeNOW: Let her come. Let her confirm it. NOW!

@DeluxeBetrayal: Proof, Satoru. We want proof.

He leaned back, settling into that expression like he had everything under control. Like he’d been waiting all night for this moment.

— No, not yet — he said, winking —. You haven’t begged me enough.

@FuriousAndUnited: WE BEG ON OUR KNEES, DADDY

@FuryKiss: LET US MEET THE QUEEN

@ShockedHeart: I don’t know whether to cry or applaud

— That’s why I never tell you anything — he murmured, shaking his head with a charming smile —. They literally put me on trial the moment I open my mouth. This is an emotional court with no neutral jury.

@YouAskedForIt: Guilty. No way out.

@InnocenceIsOver: This is my last stream

— Well, now you know. I have a girlfriend. Six years. It’s real. She’s beautiful. She’s mine. And I’m not going to show her. Not yet. — He leaned toward the camera, winking cheekily —. And the best part is… this is just the beginning.

The chat kept roaring like an endless storm. Hearts were broken, fingers typed as if trying to pierce through the screen, and Satoru… he simply enjoyed it. You could tell. That playful sparkle in his eyes was like a mischievous child nobody could stop.

@DetectiveFan: OK. LET’S START THE INVESTIGATION

@BestFriendWhoDoesn’tSuspect: IS SHE BLONDE?

@BetrayedButLoyal: GOJO, IS SHE PRETTY?

@EyesLikeTheSky: tell me if she has light eyes or I’ll die

Satoru let out a mischievous giggle and tilted his head, resting his cheek against the back of his hand while watching the messages flood the screen.

—Hmm… —he made a thoughtful sound, as if truly evaluating something important—. Want to know about her?

@Everyone: YES!!

@NowRightNow: TELL US EVERYTHING

@ConfessNow: GOJO, I BEG YOU

He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, pretending to be indecisive.

—Okay. But let’s play. If you guess her hair color… I’ll say something about her. Only one thing per correct guess, okay?

@PinkHair: PINK!

@BlackLikeMySoul: BLACK

@SilverLikeYou: SILVER LIKE YOURS

@RedheadPlease: REDHEAD!

@SurelyBlonde: She’s blonde, my soul tells me

@FantasticRainbow: She’s bald

Satoru watched each message pass with a raised eyebrow, as if silently judging. He smiled with clenched teeth and shook his head.

—No, no, no. Everyone is pretty far off… Although that one from “@FantasticRainbow” made me laugh —he shrugged—. Anything else? Anyone else want to try?

@IneverFail: DARK REDHEAD

@MyIdealMotherInLaw: BLACK WITH BLUE HIGHLIGHTS

@DetectiveChestnut: BROWN

And there, he said it. He heard it. Well, he read it. He paused. His eyes opened a little wider, that subtle way he has only when caught. A laugh escaped him before he could control it, soft and playful.

—Aha… —he whispered to the microphone—. We have a winner.

@NOOOO: WHAT? WHO? WHICH ONE WAS IT?

@REPEATIT: I DIDN’T SEE! I DIDN’T SEE!

@STOPEVERYTHING: SOMEONE GOT IT RIGHT!

Satoru let out a louder laugh, dropped his head back for a second, then looked directly at the camera again.

—Yes. Brown. Bingo.

@IMDEAD: I’M SAYING GOODBYE TO THE WORLD

@IWANTTHATINFO: TELL THE TRUTH, YOU PROMISED

@GOSSIPWITHPRIZE: GOJO, SPILL IT

Satoru rested his elbows on the desk, laced his fingers, and looked at the camera with a smile that melts hearts.

—Okay. One truth about her… Every time I get sick, doesn’t matter if it’s a silly cold, or I just sneeze three times a day… she makes me soup. A special one. It has ginger, onion, carrot, sometimes rice. And she knows exactly how long to boil it to heal me. It never fails. Never.

@SOULHEALER: I want to die of love

@IWANTTHATSOUPE: Do you have the recipe?

@SHE’SMYIDOLNOW: MAKE HER A SAINT!

—Another round, want it? —he said in a lower, playful voice, as if he knew the chat had no escape—. What if now you guess… her eye color?

@BlueLikeMyHeart: BLUE!

@SorceressGreen: GREEN!

@BlackLikeMyShadow: BLACK

@RedLikeMyEnvy: I DON’T KNOW BUT I WANT THEM TO BE RED

@Violet: VIOLET, obviously

@SweetCoffee: Brown

Another pause. A slow smile formed on Satoru’s lips, who barely bit his lower lip.

—Look at that! Again… someone got it right.

@WHOWASIT: SAY IT!

@IDIDNTSEE: WHO SAID IT?

—Brown. —The word came out soft, with sincere affection—. A brown that changes with the light. Sometimes it looks like honey, sometimes like wet earth. They’re… pretty —he admitted quietly, lowering his gaze only a second before regaining composure—. Another truth, then.

He stretched in his chair, as if thinking a bit.

—She doesn’t let me leave without breakfast. Never. And when I try, she crosses her arms at the door and won’t let me pass. She says, “You won’t last five minutes like that.” And she’s right. Always right.

@I'MCHILLING: HOW DO I BECOME HER?

@IWANTTOBEBREAKFAST: I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT MUCH ABOUT MYSELF

@MARRIAGEIN4MONTHS: I MARRY THEM

And suddenly, BOOM! The screen exploded with violet lights and digital fireworks.

@IDONTBELIEVEYOU just dropped the bomb: 💥 20,000 bits 💥 The message came with pure venom: @IDONTBELIEVEYOU: I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY. I. DO. NOT. BELIEVE. YOU. I won't believe it until she comes and says it with her VOICE. WE WANT TO HEAR HER! CALL HER NOW, GOJO!

The chat collapsed as if someone had kicked a beehive.

@OHMYGOD: AAAAAAAA

@THISISASECT: THIS GOT SERIOUS

@BIGDONATION: YOU DON'T PLAY WITH 20K BITS

@MYSOULSCREAMED: THE VOICE! THE VOICE!

Satoru opened his eyes as if he'd been challenged to the world gossip finals. He leaned back in his chair, making a face like "Are you seriously doing this to me?"... then he smiled.

— Well, well... — he said, looking at the camera like he was talking to an accomplice.

Someone wants audio proof.

The chat went on fire.

@CALLCALLNOW: I'M NERVOUS AND I'M NOT EVEN HER

@WEARECRAZY: WHAT IF HE ANSWERS SWEETLY?

@IWILLDIEHAPPY: WHAT IF HE SAYS "LOVE"?

Satoru was already pulling out his phone. With one hand he unlocked it, swiped to your contacts, and there was your name, with a bow emoji and a pink heart.

He typed. He called. Speakerphone.

— If you don't answer... they're going to burn me alive — he murmured, amused.

A couple of rings, and then:

— Hi? — your voice, unprepared, so natural, so you.

Satoru straightened up a bit, a smile already fixed and a mischievous look.

— Love, where are you?

— At Zara — you said, unaware you were being listened to by thousands of lost souls.

I'm between two dresses, one makes my legs look beautiful, the other is very short. What are you doing?

Silence. TOTAL silence.

Satoru looked straight at the camera. He didn’t explain anything. He just said with a calm smile:

— Nothing. I just wanted to hear you — he replied, with that low, honeyed voice reserved only for you.

And that’s when hell broke loose.

@NOOOOOOOOOOO: HE SAID LOVE LIVE ON AIR!

@IGOTOUTOFTHISWORLD: THAT VOICE. THAT VOICE. THAT VOICE.

@INEEDAIR: SHE'S AT ZARA AND HE CALLS HER. WHY IS THIS SO REAL?

@ICRYFORTHEM: SHE SAID “WHAT ARE YOU DOING” AND HE ANSWERED “NOTHING.” THEY’RE DESTROYING ME

@20KBITSWELLSPENT: IT WAS WORTH EVERY BIT. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

@SHOPPINGQUEEN: SHE’S SHOPPING AND HE CALLS TO HEAR HER VOICE? SHUT UP, I’M CRYING IN PUBLIC!

@IMBREAKING: WHO SAYS “I JUST WANTED TO HEAR YOU”? WHO DOES THAT AND SURVIVES?

@HAPPYLIVES: THAT’S IT. THIS IS A DRAMA. THIS IS NOT REAL.

@LOVEONLOUDSPEAKER: I NEED TO BE LOVED LIKE THIS. HOW DO YOU DO IT?

@THISISNOTADRILL: GOJO, STOP. YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HALF THE FANDOM

@OFFICIALLYDECLARE: HER VOICE IS SOFT. HE LISTENS LIKE IT’S A PRIVILEGE

— Are you busy? — you asked, not knowing your voice had just been archived by thousands of people in their brains and hearts forever.

— For you, never — he said with a little smile, resting his elbow on the table like this was an intimate video call... and not a stream watched by over a hundred thousand people.

@IMDEAD: HE SAID “FOR YOU, NEVER.” FOR YOU, NEVER!!!!!

@BREATHEFORGOD: LIVE FLIRTING. PUBLIC FLIRTING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

@HEROESOFMYHEART: I THOUGHT I WAS IN GOJO’S STREAM, NOT IN A LOVE STORY

— I’m just... at Zara. I saw something I thought you’d like — you kept saying, while the world melted in real time.

— What?

— A white shirt, one of those you like.

@SHEKNOWSWHATSHELIKES: SHE KNOWS WHAT SHIRTS HE LIKES!!!

@STOPEVERYTHING: WHO AUTHORIZED HER TO BE THIS PERFECT?

@GOJOSWIFECONFIRMED: NO DOUBT LEFT. THIS WOMAN EXISTS AND HAS HIM IN LOVE

— Send me a photo — he said, completely shameless, ignoring that the entire world was listening to every word with teary eyes.

— Okay, but don’t ignore me, okay? — you whispered sweetly.

— Never — and the monitor in front of him reflected for a second that silly, in-love smile.

@IMSOFEDUP: ENOUGH!!!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE

@LOVEEXISTS: IF THEY EXIST, LOVE DOES TOO

@BREATHETOGETHER: SERIOUSLY, STOP. I’M CRYING IN THE WORK BATHROOM

— Did you buy anything yet or are you still doubting as always? — he joked, leaning further back in the chair.

— I’m looking... there’s a pretty dress too, but I don’t know which of the three to pick — you answered with a little laugh.

— Everything you wear looks spectacular. Literally. Everything — he replied without thinking twice.

@IMSCREAMING: HOW CAN I GET SOMETHING LIKE THAT?

@BREATHEWITHME: I’M. H-Y-P-E-R-V-E-N-T-I-L-A-T-I-N-G.

@EVERYTHINGCONFIRMED: THEY CALL, THEY FLIRT, THEY KNOW EACH OTHER’S CLOTHES… THEY’RE MARRIED, END

— How dramatic — you replied, though he could already imagine your smile, and that was enough for him.

— Dramatic, but sincere.

@StopThis: THE TONE. THE TONE. HOW DO YOU TALK TO SOMEONE LIKE THAT AND STILL BE ALIVE?

@NowEverythingMakesSense: THAT’S WHY THEY CURE WITH YOUR SOUP. BECAUSE YOU TALK LIKE THAT

— Do you want me to buy you something? — you asked, switching to sweet mode like nothing happened.

— Yes. But only if you send me a photo of you trying it on.

@ImBurningUp: OH PLEASE! HOW EMBARRASSING, GOJO!

@I’mShaking: THIS IS PRIVATE NOW. WE’RE IN HIS LIVING ROOM WITHOUT PERMISSION

@GojoNoFilter: HE’S ON STREAM, HE FORGOT!

— Satoru… — your voice sounded between amused and exasperated — Now that I remember, weren’t you doing something?

There was a brief silence.

Then he burst out laughing.

— Ah, right — he said between laughs — I was on stream.

@NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO: THEY TOLD HIM!!! SHE DIDN’T KNOW!!!!

@DeadlyGojo: SATORU!!! YOU CALLED HER LIVE AND SHE DIDN’T KNOW???

@That’sWhyIt’sReal: IT’S SO REAL SHE DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER SHE HAD AN AUDIENCE

@100KWitnesses: WE WERE HERE. WITNESSES TO THIS ROMANTIC MOVIE

— WHAT? YOU’RE ON STREAM!? — you asked, stopping dead.

— Yup — he answered, totally shameless — Six hundred eighty thousand people just fell in love with you, just so you know.

@Confirmed: OFFICIAL. WE ALL FELL IN LOVE

@SheOwnsEverything: THE VOICE. THE WAY HE TALKS TO HER. THE SWEETNESS. IT SWEPT ME AWAY

@NowWeGetHer: AND WE WERE CRITICIZING. YOU DESERVE GOJO, QUEEN

— Oh, Satoru… how embarrassing. — Your voice was soft, nervous, but sweet.

— Embarrassed? Everyone’s dead in love with you. They just asked me to propose to you live.

@IAlreadySaidIt: CONFIRMED, HE PROPOSES ON THE NEXT STREAM

@SatoruAndHer: I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANY OTHER COUPLE NOW

— Hang up already, dummy — you whispered laughing, and he nodded with a soft smile.

— See you at home, love. I love you.

— Me too.

And he hung up.

For a moment, he said nothing. He just stared at the screen with a silly smile on his lips, while the chat kept exploding.

@ThatWasTooMuch: I’M GOING TO LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR

@StreamOfTheDecade: THIS STREAM SHOULD WIN AN AWARD

@GonnaMuteMyself: I NEED TO PROCESS ALL THIS

— Well… — Satoru finally broke the silence with a mischievous tone — I think that was enough emotional trauma for today, right?

@INeedMore: NO, DON’T CLOSE. MORE, MORE, MORE

@NoHealingYet: WE NEED GROUP THERAPY RIGHT NOW

— See you on the next stream, chat. I don’t know if we’ll get over this… but we’ll try.

And with one last smile, he ended the broadcast.

Black screen. Chat crashing. Hearts exploding.

And somewhere in the world, you smiled unaware you had left half the planet in love with you.

[sinofwriting]

Protective - Max Verstappen ( I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 910 Word Prompt: Protective (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place during the Baku 2024 race weekend. Also I hate James Vowles

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Logan is a momma’s boy. It’s something he’s known for as long as he can remember. It’s something that has been thrown in his face, a taunt, a tease, as if he’s supposed to be ashamed that he loves his mom. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his mom and that includes ending what was supposed to be a good month of silence from him other than a short interview he did just after the news broke and the quickly deleted statement he put out.

He’s no longer an F1 driver for the 2024 season, but he still is traveling with the calendar. He hadn’t used the hotel room Williams booked for him since Australia, not when Red Bull always gives Max a suite and there’s always a little envelope with Logan’s name on it that holds a key.

He had stayed completely in the hotel during Monza. He loves the amount of support Charles gets, loves how passionate they are, but it’s a lot to be around, to walk around. He also doesn’t need to hear another drunk Italian man shout about wanting desperately to have Charles’ babies.

He had planned to do the same in Baku just because he didn’t feel like exploring Baku. But then a video gets leaked.

And that’s the end of Logan’s silence.

He shows up on Friday by himself. His parents are already in the Red Bull garage, waiting for him, but they know that he’ll be awhile.

He smiles at fans when they cheer and greet him, taking his time to sign stuff and take pictures, ignoring the hungry photographers and reporters that are watching. He squeezes the hands of fans who despite what happened are wearing his number and telling them how much they love him.

He takes a few more photos before finally pulling away from the fans and beginning to walk. It doesn’t take long before someone finally pounces. A microphone being handed to him, that he easily takes and a camera trained on him and oh great, he wants to roll his eyes a bit, Will Buxton.

“Logan, how are you doing?”

Logan smiles, nodding at some of the people he recognizes from other teams as they pass by. “I’m good. Enjoying the weather.”

Will laughs and it’s so fake it grates on Logan’s ears. “And are you here for duties with Williams?”

His eyes are hungry, his whole expression is. He clearly wants to press and dig deep but is trying to be patient.

He shakes his head, “Here to support my dad. I no longer am associated with Williams.” He knows fans had speculated after seeing his name cleared from their website, but the dissociation had only become official just three hours ago.

“Really? Not even development.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Ties have been cut, man.” He laughs.

“And Logan, the video that has been circulating these past twelve hours, have you seen it? What are your thoughts?”

“I have seen it. And it’s disgusting really. James has never been shy about sharing his feelings about me and that’s fine, I was a driver on his team, I was a driver. But there’s no reason to bring up and say things about someone who isn’t a part of the team or any of the teams, but is just part of the driver’s staff and a parent. I could see why if they were disruptive or causing a mess, making a scene, but that isn’t the case.”

Will nods, “I couldn’t agree more, Logan.”

“I also want to say thank you to all the people who have been talking about this and talking about the words he said about my mom. I haven’t yet seen a statement put out, but I hope that what he said isn’t brushed aside.”

“I hope so as well.”

“I still say I should get to punch him.” Max comments after they finish watching Logan’s interviews and Logan can’t help but hum in agreement.

“Max.” Christian sighs, though he looks more amused than anything.

“If he wants to call someone a whore, he should call himself that. He has a wife and baby at home and yet is talking about meeting with Carlos in hotel rooms. And calling Pan a bitch just because she supported Logan? Fuck him.”

“We know, Max.” GP nearly looks bored, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Logan just knows means trouble for the Williams team principal.

A throat clears and everyone looks at his mom. “I think we all need to calm down. Especially you,” she gently pokes Logan’s forehead, before running her fingers through his hair. “The protective thing is nice, but it’s not the first time I’ve been called those things and it won’t be the last. We need to be adults about it.”

Logan frowns at her words. “You’ve been called a whore before?”

Max is frowning as well and something churns in Logan’s gut.

“Yes.” She says simply.

“Momma.”

She shakes her head, “No more interviews, Logan. Not about this at least. You didn’t say anything wrong, but I don’t want people thinking that it’s okay for them to just ask and talk about.”

She then turns to Max and Logan watches as she stares at him. “Do I even bother asking you to not say anything?”

Max shrugs. “You could.”

She sighs. “Just don’t threaten him. The FIA is already looking closely at you.”

“No threats.” He agrees.

[d0youc0py]

Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)

“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.

“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.

“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”

“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.

“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”

“He’s a strange man.” He responded.

“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.

“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.

“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.

•••

That turned out to be a fat lie.

“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”

“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.

“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.

“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.

“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.

“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.

“Not like that.” You said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.

“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.

“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.

“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.

“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.

“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.

“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.

“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:

“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”

You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.

“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.

Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.

“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.

“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.

“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.

“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.

“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”

“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.

When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.

“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.

He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.

He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.

He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.

“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.

“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.

“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.

“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.

“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”

He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.

“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”

“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”

“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.

“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-

“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”

“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.

“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.

He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.

And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.

He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.

Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.

“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.

In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.

“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-

You couldn’t even get through the story.

“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.

“Should go back there and”-

“No.” You huffed.

“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”

“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.

“Should make it so he only has one hand.”

“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”

“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.

“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.

“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”

“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”

A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.

“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.

“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”

He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.

“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.

“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.

“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.

He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”

“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.

“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.

“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.

“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.

“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.

“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”

“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.

“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.

“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.

“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.

“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.

“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.

“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.

Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.

“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”

Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.

“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”

[yowumi]

CONSUME ME.

— pairing. osamu dazai x reader x chuuya nakahara [bsd]

✧˚ · . warnings. minors do not interact! 18+, they are all old friends who worked for the port mafia, teasing, they have to work together for a mission, teasing, hinting of past sexual encounters, yes chuuya and dazai are on that gay shit, all characters are in their 20’s, smut.

✧˚ · . a/n. hey guys it’s aries! i just started watching bsd and i love it so far and came up with this idea while making mac and cheese so here we are lol ^-^

pt. 1 // pt. 2 (coming soon)

getting out of the port mafia is hard, but not impossible.

that’s the words you repeated to yourself the day you left, while you ran through the streets with only a bag of weapons and one spare of clothes, as you wiped out hundreds of men chasing after you with bullets shooting over your head, as you ran away from that place for good.

it’s a vivid memory, one that should be celebrated on yet it felt more like a loss, grief. as a stray away young teenager it felt like home but as you grew and matured, you couldn’t help but hate what you were doing. — did you really want to be controlled by him your whole life?

after countless attempts of leaving the port mafia in your earlier years from rebellion and wanting to ‘make a statement’ on how much he really needed you, none of your attempts had ever worked. or more so, you never let any of them work.

the acting out played out for a while, that was until new recruits joined the port mafia. two boys, one named dazai, a tall man with chocolate hair, he had such a boyish demeanor at times, yet his eyes always felt so dark, deprived of the light. the other was named chuuya, a blunt man filled with pride and slight temperament when accompanied dazai. you can’t deny they complimented each other well. despite the circumstances of the port mafia’s harsh nature, seeing the two bicker and argue like teenagers felt refreshing. It was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

the two boys were accompanied by you after then, you three became quite close over time, sharing teenage memories with each other as you grew stronger, complimenting each others abilities in combat. although dazai rarely participated in hand to hand, unless necessary.

it wasn’t until a drunken night on chuuya’s eighteenth birthday that the three of you had played a spicy game of truth or dare.

“is it true that your wearing a wig” chuuya grins at dazai with a teasing expression as he sips the cocktail in his hand.

you’d laugh playfully pulling on dazai’s hair, earning a small wince from him.

“you can find out if it’s the real thing tonight when your pulling on it” he cheekily remarks.

“yeah right as if” chuuya rolls his eyes.

and it didn’t take long before the little brain cells left inside you from the alcohol began forming like a lightbulb turning on in your head.

“let’s spice this game up a bit, truth or dare but if you chicken out, you’ve gotta strip!” you presented to them excitedly and dazai claps with approval. chuuya on the other hand sighs in approval.

let’s just say by the end of the night, the three of you were stripped down to your undergarments, after many requests of pranking the boss, which no one had the balls or idiocy of doing even while drunk.

“truth or dare?” you asked chuuya.

“truth”

“is it true that you’re a virgin?” you blurted out without thinking, you were all very close so you didn’t think much of asking personal questions.

unexpectedly, his cheeks turned a light shade of red as he looked away huffing as he stared at his underwear being the only piece of clothing left on his body. “dazai close your eyes, don’t wanna hurt your ego” chuuya snarks at him implying he doesn’t want to answer which only makes dazai’s eyes widen.

“wow, with someone with such a big talking game, you still haven’t managed to get your dick wet yet?” he teased.

“wait you’re being serious chuuya?” you furrow your eye brows at him.

“i’ve done other things, don’t go pinning me as a plane jane alright, i just haven’t had sex that’s all” he admits, “dazai are you even one to talk! i doubt any women would want to do anything with you considering how much you rant about suicide!”

“perhaps your right” he says casually before his eyes lighten with an idea, “y/n, truth or dare?” he asks, suddenly excited making you worried. dazai thinking was never a good thing.

“fuck it, dare”

a smirk appears on his face as he looks at chuuya and you, “I dare you to take his virginity”

chuuya and your face widen as a blush creeped upon the two of your faces. suddenly feeling a bit nervous, “I, uh-“ you stutter, not knowing whether that would be okay to do with your friend. you wouldn’t mind, and of course you knew the two of your friends were very attractive so can’t deny sexual thoughts have crossed your mind late at night when you laid alone in bed but this all seemed so fast, faster than your brain could keep up.

dazai leans into you, slightly holding your waist firmly and pressing his lips near your ear whispering, “oh and let’s not forget that whoever chickens out has to strip” he emphasizes the word strip. “and from what i see, you only have your bra and panties left, i don’t think it’s smart to leave yourself vulnerable like that in front of two men…especially in this state…” he turns his gaze down to his briefs making you look down with him, noticing the bulge popping out against his leg while he looks back to chuuya who’s noticeably hard. you hadn’t even realized it before.

that night you had took chuuya and dazai’s virginity, and they took yours. it was a day you couldn’t seem to forget no matter how drunk you were. the line between the three of you was crossed and it never went back, making it ritual that the three of you were together in all ways.

that was until dazai left a few months later.

after he left, he didn’t leave any trace, no warning, nothing. if it weren’t for a report sent back after weeks of looking for him that he was surely alive but he didn’t want to come back.

chuuya and you grew distant after the fact. instead of the light mood and energy that you two were usually surrounded by, it felt as if the two of you were grieving dazai. not just as a friend, but as a partner.

for the last year you stayed in the port mafia, which was about a year after dazai had left, you and chuuya would spend nights together in your shared apartment, the apartment all three of you used to share.

it always hit the two of you at night that he wasn’t there, that’s when you and chuuya were brought together. silently, whether it was searching for comfort as you held each other as you slept, or angry sex from the frustration of work and the loss of dazai, or looking at each other with understanding, understanding of the same feeling brought upon both of you.

you had made a promise that you would tell him if you were planning to leave the port mafia.

you broke that promise when you had proceeded in refusing to help bomb an orphanage, not wanting to cause harm to children, that was always where you crossed the line. that was always the hard topic for you and you had thought that was something you and the port mafia had agreed on. you were wrong and no isn’t an answer in the port mafia. you were informed by one of your colleagues that they planned on assassinating you, for your disobedience as it was a very important mission needed to be done, something only you could pull off with your strategic planning and stealthy combat skills.

you had no time to leave, it was urgent and non negotiable. if you hadn’t left at that exact moment, you were surely going to be executed.

so you ran.

and you didn’t stop until you knew you couldn’t be found. you tried to find comfort working underground, doing some dirty work, something you were already familiar with. you worked for a on the low agency that helped take down dangerous organizations. it was like the fbi except…the government was some of the people you were mainly trying to take out…

after time of building a name for yourself in the under world, being the go to for underground highly advanced assassinations on huge corporations, ones nobody could dream of touching. your ability allowed you to remain invincible, not physically but not a single soul has been able to sense your presence, you didn’t have any fingerprints or bodily identification that could be left behind. you were the definition of stealth which made you dangerous yet wanted by many.

it didn’t take long for you to have everything you wanted, from where you sat, the port mafia couldn’t take you down unless they gave it their all, same as dazai. they knew it would be a means to war if they were to force us back. a war they wouldn’t be able to win.

you couldn’t deny that it felt lonely, the years you spent alone. you tried looking for chuuya, you watched over him, sometimes you would even stalk him trying to figure out what he was up to these days. dazai on the other hand, you somehow couldn’t find yourself to look for him.

dazai was being looked for, they were trying to bring him back, they wanted him. If he left, it was only because he wanted to.

there was always something so distant about him, he kept up such an act that made him seem okay constantly, never letting his guard down. yet, something about him always felt distant, as if he was right there yet meteors away.

for years, the silent distance between the three of you marinated, not having any connection between each other, no communication, nothing.

that was until 3 years later, you were informed that chuuya and dazai had a little reunion, without you.

you stared blankly at the report given to you of the information, not knowing how to feel towards the situation. pictures were provided and you can’t deny that they aged well. dazai grew a few inches, he wore lighter clothes now, taking on a more casual look rather than the edgy one he wore as a teen. chuuya on the other hand hadn’t grown much since, although his face matured more and his hair grew out a bit, you also recognize he took on a better sense of style.

you put the paper down and threw it in the trash.

their reunion had nothing to do with you, therefore you should be kept uninterested. the past is in the past.

a few days later you had received a visitor at home in the middle of the night, which was rare because you didn’t receive house visits. you grabbed your gun from your night table making your way towards the presence you heard near the kitchen. looking around for any sign of life, you pointed your gun up before being blinded by the lights turning on in the darkness of the night. you quickly gained your composure before you felt a warm body behind you and a hand coming towards yours which was holding the gun.

bandages.

you knew who’s hand that was, you knew that hand all too well. your legs felt the sudden urge to weaken and your breath hitched as you felt him inches away behind you. feeling his breath against your ear as you felt him lean in, “you didn’t think i’d forget about you, did you?” he let out a soft chuckle against your ear as he took the gun from you.

“how did you get in here dazai” you say bluntly not daring to turn around to look at him, in fear of losing your composure, or perhaps your sanity in this case.

this seemed funny to him and you realize how stupid the question is. — why wouldn’t he be able to get in here?

you grew with annoyance swiftly pulling a move fast enough for you to take out a small knife from under the small shorts you were wearing and backed him into a corner, pointing the weapon towards his neck.

“why are you here.” you finally look him in his eyes for the first time in years, taking in the close proximity between the two of you.

“would you believe me if i said a friendly reunion over some drinks?” he teased, “i came back because…” he leans in closely knowing you wouldn’t kill him, “i need you.” he whispered in almost a whine, one you were familiar with.

you were taken by surprise by his words about to kick him in the nuts for his stupidity before a voice comes out from the back.

“you shouldn’t tease dazai, you know that only results in punishment” chuuya’s voice echoed out from the couch that he sat splayed across on. you look up at him feeling immediately guilt in your stomach remembering how you left him.

dazai quickly notices this trying to change the conversation with the mention of drinks. “you must have some type of alcohol in the house, right?” he starts searching and rampaging through your cabnits as he looks for any sign of alcohol.

“aha!” he lifts up an old bottle of wine that hasn’t been opened pulling the lid off effortlessly as he cheered.

you go sit down on the couch next to chuuya where he stares silently at you, “been a while” he says barely making eye contact with you.

“yeah..” you say awkwardly, not knowing what to say. you figured you would tell him you were sorry now while you have the chance as dazai is distracted, “listen, i’m sorry about how i left, i just-“ you were cut off by chuuya.

“don’t worry about it, i’m not holding grudges” he says giving you a slight comforting smile in the best way he can considering his usual blunt and annoyed manner.

you smile back as you two sit in silence, taking each other’s in as you looked at each others new appearances with age and maturity.

looking at him from up close forced you to really look at him and his features, taking in the way his eyes slightly softens when dazai speaks to him from the kitchen or how he plays with the rings on his fingers as he speaks, when you really took the time to look at him, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by him.

stealing you away from your thoughts, dazai awakened you from your gaze when he calls your name out for what must have been a few times now asking if you want him to serve you a cup, you nod in reply.

as dazai sits down, placing the cups filled to the brim with liquor on the small coffee table that laid in the middle of your nearly empty apartment.

“you should get plants or something ya know, it’s so depressing in here, your house looks like the inside of a grandmas vagina” dazai speaks freely — as always, when does he not?

“how the hell would you know what a grandmas vagina looks like?” you furrow your eye brows at a cheeky dazai, giggling in response.

“i’ve been around, the ladies love me ya know” he sarcastically brags, as chuuya shoots him looks of judgement with a small scoff, “you disgust me.” he takes a sip of his drink.

times like these reminded you of your teenage years, memories that made your time serving the mafia feel not so bad.

“you never answered my question…” you’re still curious as to why they came back to you after years, it was all so sudden. there had to have been a reason, right?

chuuya gives dazai a look emphasizing that he should tell her, dazai rolls his eyes in defeat. he really hated having to change the mood.

“the port mafia are planning to hunt you down so until further notice, i was informed that i needed to take you in so you can receive protection from the angency.” he says taking a sip from his cup.

you look towards chuuya, “and you?” you ask.

his face flushes just for a moment before looking down almost in embarrassment, “…i uh volunteered or whatever..” he looks away.

your face grew with concern coming closer to him, “wait? but that would be a betrayal to the port mafia, would it not?”

he looked up at you, “yeah but it’s fine.” he says plainly trying not to make a big deal out of it. “dazai dragged me into it anyways, pestering me and shit” he glared at dazai sitting next to him.

“hey! you joined without hesitation, it didn’t take much convincing out of him-“ his words cut off with the slap of chuuya pushing a napkin in his mouth left with a pouty dazai.

“well i guess i don’t have much of a choice in this, do i?” you ask.

“nope.” both of them say, dazai with a grin and chuuya with annoyance.

you get up and leave the room making your way to your own bedroom, receiving confused looks and ‘huh’s from the both of them.

you come out within a few seconds with a duffel bag filled with your belongings.

“you were trained well” dazai grins.

“so where are we heading?”

.

.

.

link to part 2 (coming soon)

[ilyrafe]

after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.

yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.

after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.

the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.

i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.

for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.

for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.

liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.

all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.

i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.

it’s too soon.

call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.

for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.

edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.

[hueseok]

( 16. ) A LOVER’S KISS.

a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.

and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.

━ jeongguk x reader ━ 4.1k words. ━ 18+ ━ smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung) ━ warning/s: swearing

note. no smut for this part, but i’m keeping the rating 18+ and have the smut label above since this drabble series overall isn’t suitable for minors !!

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 16. the one with a lover’s kiss !

jeongguk couldn’t sleep the night before the competition.

it’s not the first time this happened, of course. one can guess that he should be used to it at this point due to the nerves and the pressure and his desire to do great for the sake of the university’s reputation and for his own reputation as well (and maybe because of the expectations of his coach too who often wasn’t that kind in order to push him to the farthest of his limits). 

however, as made apparent by you before you attended class earlier, he didn’t just have the game to keep in mind for tomorrow, no—because as you have explained to him and cruelly reiterated when he called you a few minutes ago just for the purpose of hearing your voice before he tried to sleep—tomorrow was also going to be the day in which you were going to tell him your decision on whether you were willing to fully take him back again or not after the whirlwind of events that happened to your relationship these past weeks.

he wanted to believe that he had a good chance in winning you back; he wanted to confidently say that there was perhaps no way you would reject him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high either. god knows how much that could hurt once you give him your answer and it turns out to be the opposite of what he was guessing. though a part of him was already convinced that surely, you wouldn’t have entertained his sweet gestures this week since making up if it wasn’t going to lead to you taking him back, right?

right? 

you possibly couldn’t be that brutal.

though in your defense, he didn’t think he had the right to be angry if leading him on was your plan all along. truth be told, he has been both intentionally and unintentionally brutal to you before to have the nerve to complain, that if you were going to take this opportunity to get the revenge you wanted, then he should just be a man about it and accept it the way it is.

***

“i don’t see her.”

jeongguk couldn’t breathe. he took a dramatic inhale to calm himself and regulate his heartbeat. “anywhere? you don’t see her with the guys and just—somewhere in the bleachers, maybe?”

“nope.” jimin glanced at him. “why? is ____ not coming? haven’t you two made up already? don’t tell me you did something stupid again.”

“we’re fine.” he rolled his eyes, slightly unsettled by his own statement. “it’s just important that she’s here.”

“yeah, i know, she’s your lucky charm, blah blah blah.”

“it’s not that.” jeongguk huffed. “well, it’s a part of it, but it’s bigger than that. is it wrong for me to want to try and find her before the competition begins?”

“yeah, coach would kill you if he doesn’t find you here when he arrives, so i advise you to just chill and be patient. maybe she’s just running a bit late.”

“yeah, you’re right. i’m just paranoid, am i?”

“what are you even exactly paranoid about?” jimin asked.

jeongguk frowned. talking about it out loud made it too real, and he preferred not to do it because of that, but he figured that he should at least tell someone about it if he wanted more insight perhaps. at least jimin has been a far better partner to yebin than jeongguk ever was to you to not be the person suitable to talk about this with. “she said if she doesn’t attend, that means she’s dumping me.”

jimin’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “really? i never thought ____ had it in her.”

“she made it clear that she’s not going to see me anymore if i don’t see her today. i’m practically on the verge of death right now—or the start of my emo boy era.”

 jimin snorted. “didn’t you already go through that phase?”

“no, i haven’t.”

“yeah, you have. you’ve been moping for a few solid weeks when you and her weren’t okay. can’t say that you don’t deserve it. after what you did, you realize that it’s fair for her to play you around a bit, right?”

jeongguk wanted to strangle jimin sometimes because of his bluntness and desire to always tease the hell out of the people he’s close with (which unfortunately included jeongguk). but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was good to have a friend like him who could slap the facts in your face in order for you to see the truth and the implication of your actions—and be sometimes funny with it, for that matter.

“is it really?” jeongguk asked.

“well… i mean, it is in a way that you should see how lucky you are that you’re going to get your answer straight away. if i was her, i would have dragged this winning her back thing for a whole year before dropping the bomb that maybe we should just stay friends.”

“you seriously can’t be that cruel, jimin.”

“i could be, if someone really fucked me up.” he laughed. “but ____ isn’t like that. and i know she has strong feelings for you too. so maybe the best course of action now is to just trust what she decides for the both of you and live with it.”

this wasn’t the pep talk that jeongguk was expecting to receive before the tournament.

“and what am i supposed to do if she doesn’t come and that means we’re really over?” he questioned again.

jimin sighed. “then i guess you just have to go back to your emo tendencies and move on.”

***

the first time jeongguk personally asked if you could go to one of his matches, you and him weren’t secretly sleeping with each other yet. you were still in that weird phase of being great friends when you have the rest of the gang with you, but suddenly being really quiet and awkward with each other when it was just you two. he never even thought of inviting you alone when it came to his scheduled races, believing that he was doing the both of you a favor by not putting yourselves in a situation wherein you and him will just fall back to the usual cringeworthy interactions that will lead him physically wincing whenever he remembered them.

but that time, you overheard his conversation with taehyung who was apologizing that he couldn’t come for his match that weekend because of a project he needed to work on, and jeongguk, upon hearing him explain, visibly expressed his disappointment at the news because he wanted a friend to be there just so they could take a proper picture and video for him that he could look back after (if it wasn’t mentioned yet, jeongguk was obsessed with always doing a better performance than his last).

“i can go,” you volunteered before, your eyes focused still on the monitor inside the campus publication office but your ears were paying attention to them. “i’m free this saturday.”

jeongguk looked at you afterwards with a look that showed absolute hesitance. he was thankful that you weren’t peering at him to notice. “oh. you sure, ____? i wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“it’s fine.” you flickered your gaze to him. “though, if you don’t want me to be there, that’s totally okay too—”

“what? don’t be ridiculous.” a very very awkward chuckle tumbled out of jeongguk’s lips, one that taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at because of how fake it sounded. “why wouldn’t i want you to be there? of course you can come. i’d be really glad if you do.”

he didn’t know what response he was expecting, but you grinned, nodding in an skeptical manner, and then returned to what you were doing like nothing happened. jeongguk decided to face taehyung again afterwards, the latter staring at him with a similar dubious yet funny look, but he punched his arm and opted to flee from the office, muttering that he was going to be late for class if he stayed any longer.

fast forward to when the tournament came and he finished first place, he was ecstatic, brimming with pride because of his accomplishment—and when he met you outside the locker room to thank you for really coming and taking shots of him that he would review that night, he was a bit startled when you congratulated him with a tight hug, not used to that kind of affection from you.

sure, he always knew you were sweet to your close friends. you were like that to goeun, taehyung, and haru.

to him, though? that was the first.

“i’m so proud of you, guk!” you told him, the smile on your face so bright that he thought he might have to squint to look at you properly. “this is your first win of the season, right?”

jeongguk nodded. “yeah, i think it is.”

from that point forward, things weren’t so awkward between the both of you. your friendship solidified further when he asked if you wanted to help him with something at his uncle’s newly built restaurant, and you agreed, recognizing the same newfound comfort he was beginning to feel that you were eager to foster it more because it didn’t sit right with you how you were alright with everyone else and yet weird with him.

now, he didn’t want to think of the possibility of things being like that again. he barely survived not talking to you that much during the soomi fiasco and the period wherein he purposely avoided you to not cause any more damage than he had after the confrontation. it was one of the driving forces why he made up his mind in truly pursuing you—the realization that he wasn’t fond of the idea of not being able to talk to you every single day, of not being able to tell you the most random things and be certain that you would always know what to say next.

entering the natatorium, jeongguk didn’t appear as if he was hiding the fact that he was searching for you among the crowd. he already quickly spotted taehyung, haru, and goeun at their spot (you weren’t there), and then he tried searching for yebin, hoping that you decided to accompany her instead this time to create some kind of suspense (you still weren’t there when he saw her). so, all he could do after was let his eyes explore the whole venue as fast as he could, his heart hammering harder at every instance he failed to find you.

was this going to be the end of it all?

were you not coming?

was yesterday the final moment he got to hold you?

“guk,” his coach abruptly called his attention, “take your jacket off. it’s about to start,” he said, noticing jeongguk’s stiff posture as he stood there at the starting platform, immobile while the other players he was competing against were already removing their clothes.

jeongguk took one long scan again.

he still couldn’t see you.

and although he has yet to dive into the water, it felt as if he lost the ability to swim and was drowning to the bottom of the pool.

****

“congratulations!”

jeongguk could at least afford them a genuine smile as taehyung, haru, and goeun pulled him for a group hug. they simultaneously and continuously patted his back, the two boys doing it in a harsh manner to annoy the hell out of him that jeongguk had to groan and shove them off to prevent them from doing further damage to his aching body, though not without laughing and muttering his thanks for both being here and congratulating him.

“you did great back there,” haru said with a proud grin. “you’re definitely going to be the cover of the next issue again with the victory. i doubt i have to get ____’s approval just to make that happen.”

at the mention of your name, jeongguk’s attempt to seem fine crumbled a little. it didn’t go ignored by the rest of the gang with him; although they weren’t aware of the deal you and jeongguk had, they could understand that your absence today meant that something was wrong.

goeun cleared her throat, the silence insufferable that she couldn’t resist finally speaking up. “well, uh, haru mentioned that he’s also treating us today.” she placed an arm around haru’s shoulders, tiptoeing and struggling in the process. “right, ru?”

haru glanced at her. “i am?”

“you are.” taehyung chimed in, linking his arms with haru as if to lock him in. “you said you would if jeongguk wins first place.”

“i did?” haru’s tone remained confused.

jeongguk had to chuckle at their dumb effort to lighten the mood again. it was obvious that no conversation which involved haru saying that he was going to treat them later if jeongguk indeed won occurred. 

“don’t worry,” jeongguk said to haru, “i already messaged my uncle about the win and he’s gonna cook for us at the restaurant.”

“thank god.” haru exhaled a relieved breath. “because i do not have enough money right now to pay for all of us.” he glared at goeun.

“sorry, but someone had to say something,” she muttered.

“and you thought saying that i was going to treat everybody was the perfect thing to mention?” asked haru.

her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. “you’re the most generous out of us three.”

“no, he’s not,” taehyung butted in, “i think that title goes to me.”

“is it?” goeun asked. “you’re probably the most frugal of us all.”

“sensible is the right term for that,” defended taehyung.

jeongguk was about to join in the banter, to divert the teasing towards taehyung more as some sort of payback for the back slaps he got earlier, but just as he was opening his mouth to get a sentence out, he saw you coming into view.

you were here.

you came.

but you were late. what did that mean?

“____,” jeongguk breathed out.

the group automatically shut up, whirling around to see where jeongguk was staring at.

he was very much tempted to run to you, but his knees stayed put, somehow frozen in place. a part of him perhaps knew that talking to you immediately might be the wrong choice. he was afraid that the reason why you arrived late today was because you were still planning to reject him, that you were just being nice about it by doing it in person instead of text—but that was more cruel, in his opinion. he rather you don’t see his face when give him the news that you’re not willing to be with him again.

“hey,” you said, looking directly at him before diverting your attention to the rest of the crew. “you guys mind if guk and i speak alone?”

a pause.

“yeah, it’s cool.” haru was the first one to say, followed by taehyung, and then goeun.

“thanks.” you smiled.

they awkwardly shuffled and made their way to the exit of the locker room. they gave one last look to jeongguk just as they disappeared into the hallway, as if they were wishing him luck or reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and looked at you too, as if they were sending a similar message that translated more into ‘please don’t break his heart or else this friend group might turn weird’.

when they were gone and definitely out of earshot, jeongguk finally had the courage to take a step forward. “____,” your name tumbled out of his lips again, “what are you—”

“i told you so,” you cut him off. you were going to lead this conversation, you made that mental note to yourself earlier prior to leaving your place, and you were going to say everything you had to say to him that maybe you never had the courage to do so in the past. “you didn’t need me here to win.”

he frowned. “winning is the last thing on my mind today, honestly.”

“that’s not a good mindset for an athlete.”

“it isn’t.”

you pursed your lips. “still, you won.”

“i guess, i did, huh?”

“without me there too.”

“yeah, you already said so.” although he didn’t appear resentful, he sounded bitter. “are you going to keep repeating that because you want to prove that even without you, i’ll be okay?”

“that wasn’t my intention.”

“then what is your intention exactly? i thought you said that if you didn’t come today, then that would mean that you’re not willing to give me a second chance.”

“and yet… i’m here, guk.”

he raised his eyebrows. “you are, but you were… you’re late.”

“because i chickened out.”

“you chickened out?”

you moved forward and sat on the empty bench across him. it was a lot easier to pour your heart out when doing that was only done through your imagination. “i was supposed to be here earlier. it’s just, uh, i… i’ve been—i’ve been stalling.”

it was true. you were adamant last night that you were going to give him a second chance. you were confident that for the past few days, regardless of how short the span was, jeongguk managed to prove to you that he was serious in wanting to commit to a real relationship with you. you saw that in the manner he always looked after you, in the manner he made time for you, in the manner he didn’t shy away from showing you affection when he felt like it—you were convinced that even though he never said it out loud, he really liked you, because the things he did… you were positive that you didn’t just do that to someone you didn’t like.

but you were also really fucking scared. it dawned to you last night (while you were overthinking everything and talking to yourself) that it indeed hasn’t been that long and that you were being too easy again for jeongguk; you were laying yourself out to him without him struggling that much. and why? because you loved him, of course. because you were afraid that if you prolonged this, he would give up and you were going to be alone and hurt once more.

“hey.” jeongguk placed his hands over yours as he knelt in front of you, hair wet and expression sincere; you didn’t notice him walk towards where you were, you were too preoccupied in your thoughts again to catch it. “you don’t have to…” he struggled with what he was going to say, mostly because it wasn’t what he wanted to happen, “you don’t have to give me a second chance if you’re not up for it.”

“really?”

his heart dropped. it was only a hypothetical statement; he didn’t expect you to bite the idea.

“um…” he tried to speak, realizing that acting like a martyr isn’t part of his portfolio, but he was willing to act one right now to not make this harder for you. “i mean… it’ll suck ass, and i’ll probably cry for months, and i’ll beg you first not to date anyone else while we’re still studying in the same university—but after that, after i stop being a big baby about it,  i’ll…”

“you’ll what?” you were waiting for what he was going to tell you next. the corners of your mouth were turned slightly upwards at the hint of playfulness in his tone.

he scooted closer to you. fuck his knee; the high probability of it being bruised if he stays kneeled on the ground was the least of his worries. “i’ll stay by your side and i’ll try harder until you get tired of me. it’s what i told you the other day, didn’t i? i won’t ask you to be gentle with my feelings—i’ll let you torture me and walk me around like a dog. i’ll follow you wherever you’ll go, just patiently waiting ‘til you decide i’m worth your time. i’ll let you hurt my feelings, ____, because between us two, i know that it’s my heart that deserves a pretty good beating.”

you snorted at how dramatic his speech sounded. “hurting you is far from what i want. i’m not that sadistic.”

“then what is it that you want?”

“you.”

jeongguk couldn’t stop the smile from conquering his features. he got the answer he wanted to hear. “i want you too.”

“i don’t mean that in a horny way, okay?” you quickly clarified and he had the strength now to laugh. “i want you to be here for me—all the time—is what i mean. i want you to continue being my best friend, and i also want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it. i want you to annoy the shit out of me, i want you to hug me, i want you to volunteer to do the most random stuff just to help me, and i want you to keep proving that you want us to work, guk. i want you to always remind me that it’s safe to let my guard down and give you my 100% all the time.”

“i’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he promised. “you can trust me, babe. you can even exceed that 100% and make it 200 or a thousand—” your laughter echoed in the locker room.

jeongguk joined you, laughing as well, but as he did, it was also sinking in that what happened between the both of you left a huge mark that made it difficult for you to trust him. he couldn’t blame you, no, not after what he did, and he was eager to change that. he was optimistic that he could do that—because he knew it inside him that he has strong feelings for you. he could even say that he loved you and it would feel right.

“i’m sorry for being late,” you said.

he shook his head. “don’t be. i kind of deserved it.”

“well, you’re not wrong.”

“wow. you’re not a sadist, huh?”

you snickered; jeongguk grinned. he could stay in this moment forever, just you and him staring at each other, this unexplainable yet gooey feeling in your chests making it seem like everything was going to turn out fine.

and then he asked, “can i kiss you?”

your eyebrows rose. you remembered the last time he asked you that, when you were both in the middle of sex and you were hesitant to grant him that kiss because you were afraid of the repercussions that would soon come after once you did. yet, thinking more about the moment, he didn’t really ask you before, really. it was more like a demand, a plea, and it was different from what he was doing right now because despite appearing like he could beg just to get that kiss, it was still so sincere and was done out of—

love.

love? he hasn’t said that out loud before. you didn’t want to assume. but the way he was gazing at you…

you placed your palms on his cheeks while he didn’t hesitate in extending his arms so that they were circled around your waist, pulling you closer that unconsciously caused you to open your legs to make space for his upper body. 

“doesn’t your knee hurt?” you whispered.

jeongguk pressed his lips together. “it’s tolerable.”

there you were again, with that infectious laugh, leading jeongguk to be tempted further to just kiss you without waiting for an answer. “okay, guk.”

he gave you a questioning look.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. you can kiss me. but if you do...” you trailed, “that would mean that you’re taking the lucky opportunity of being my boyfriend.”

“i’ll make sure to thank you every day for that wonderful honor.” he allowed himself to push forward and kiss your lips. it was what he was dying to do for the past week; it wasn’t enough that he was only close to you or had the permission to hug you every now and then—his body craved to have you close, not in a manner that was horny like disclaimed just seconds ago too, but for all the reasons that you illustrated as well. 

kissing you gave him the signal that you were close. and god, did he always want you close.

“i’ll be better,” he murmured, kissing you continously. “i’ll treat you better, ____.”

you didn’t answer. you just smiled and kissed him further.

when for the past months, having your mouth on his was the thing you had to avoid the most, finally having the liberty to do it now just drove you to do it over and over again.

note. hehe surprise? this update took so long that i think it took two whole damn years before i got the motivation to write again and finish this �� apologies for that lmao. life has been a whirlwind but since i'm now in a much happier state, i decided to try continuing this and i'm glad that it ended up with me finally concluding the story :D

honestly, i'm not too sure if got the vibes / essence of the story still since i haven't touched this mini series in such a long time. nonetheless, i did reread it and i hope that i brought justice to what you might have thought the ending was going to be! (also, i might edit this later on for improvement bc i just realized that my writing perhaps did not improve lmao but for now, this is what i can only offer >.<)

as always, THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

taglist (1/3): @fan-ati--c @marknee @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @jiminisnotavirgin @joondala @afangirllikeme-blog @jxxvk @this-is-seriousbusinesz @swga-ficrecs @apollukee @bloopkook @jaerisdiction @thisartemisnevermisses @koolvrr @wearenot7withu @brilliantmoon7 @naturules @betysotelo18 @jinyoungie0922 @codeinebelle @minimoni7 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @moonchild1 @taeshuworld @daydreambrliever @lilyflowerguk @rjsmochii @namjeonii @drownforryou @sugapiie @emeriroth @xius-exos @sw33tnight @lunaoceanchild @outropjmm @dojacandy @brit97 @abyjil @haruharux23 @haniiii @callmejimmeo @itsalyssa15 @hinawariinoue97 @libra04 @gukkmoans (striked means tumblr won’t let me tag them!)

[radio-fmm]

You must live

What if Luffy and reader got out of Marineford with Ace?

Ace x reader

2.1k words, gn reader, SFW fluffy at the end

Depictions of war and injuries, happy ending!!! Idc idc, the most plot accurate thing I’ve ever written I guess if you haven’t catched up to marineford then don’t read, or do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I ain’t the boss of ya’

War

It had creeped up on you like a nightmare from which you cannot wake up, your heart thrumming in your chest as you repeat to yourself that nothing’s real, that it’ll past— But it doesn’t

You still remember how you got here, the fear after seeing Ace stomping out the deck just about to jump to his striker as he argued with your dad because you knew there was not stopping him, yet you plead

“Don’t do it” now you stood between his sizzling anger and the edge of the ship, arms immediately grabbing his as a cry for help

“I have to do this, you know I do… I can’t let that bastard step on my dad’s name” as you looked right into his gaze you could just feel there was something else, something he was trying to prove not to your dad, not to the crew or you but to himself— Like he had to be of use to deserve his place

“Then I’m going with you” never in your life you had spoken with such conviction; you run to the side of the deck to gather a backpack and quickly tossing some food that was left laying around before everyone had stopped to convince your stubborn lover and failed miserably

“NO!” in all your time with Ace you had never heard him raise his voice at you, but you gave it no mind, quickly scrabbling anything useful for the journey at your arms reach

“Yes” everyone stood frozen knowing better than to speak up, you and Ace were so painfully similar, stubbornness one of the qualities on that list

“I have to do this myself, I want you here where you’re safe” he tried to quickly reach for the backpack now all full and packed but to not avail since you were quicker to toss it on your shoulders and walked straight to his striker

“I can handle myself just fine. I am going because I want to, I am making that decision,”- the silence that followed your statement was seasoned with desperation from the man that was onto your toes -“If you think I’m letting you go by yourself you’re out of your mind Portgas”

His last name leaving your lips had him groaning, a warning to not question you since you had in fact already made your mind and there was not changing it— so stubborn

So you followed him, through the hot desserts of Alabasta, dangerous Marine base’s and infested seas; you would’ve followed him to the end of the world

Maybe that’s were you find yourself now— the love of your life chained about to be executed like his death had something to proof; his blood not one he choose but now being punished for it, the world had failed him even before he was born and it pains you that you didn’t know, that he didn’t tell you about all the self doubt, insecurities and regrets that blinded him, a lot of things now making sense as you recall some of his behavior even before you began to build your relationship— his search for a life worth living that now you and him wonder if he’ll ever get to taste. But you don’t hold it against him, how could you?

By your side stands his brother, a pirate you had met in your lovers journey that had doomed yourselves, a bright and brave pirate that now gives his life away for his big brother, even if there’s no more he can give he does. And you? The pain that aches your heart also aches your bones, one more hit and you’ll probably be gone but you don’t care, as Ace’s voice rattles trough the dead and screams of pain it gives you all the energy and all the will to continue

“Why is it now that my brother, my dad, the love of my life and my crew fight for me, is that I find myself wanting to live?”

His words are drowned by his tears and your own but you feel them to the core, clenching your fists as you make your way through the war unfolding. Marines, pirates and family all fight for the future, you? You just want Ace to live, then you’ll give yourself the luxury of thinking about the future— A future where he is in

You scream his name at the top of your lungs making his head jolt up looking for you from high above, even though a battle cry, your voice soothes him but it also terrifies him. He fears for your life, and if you may want to keep him in it now that you know his biggest secret— what do you think of him now?

His fears quickly fade as you scream once more

“YOU HAVE TO LIVE ACE”

He doesn’t deserve you- he thinks. You had stood by him through thick and thin. even now you could turn away from this war and start anew, yet you fight for him, body scarred, bullets and punches flying above your head but your eyes look for his, your voice chooses to call for his name and reassure him even amongst the chaos— He feels your love as it expands through his tired form, combusting

“I LOVE YOU ACE, WE ALL DO, THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE TO LIVE BECAUSE YOURE WORTH IT”

Luffy glances back at you, the widest smile you’ve ever seen painted on his features, he calls your name while one of his hands holds your shoulder in a tight grip as if trying to keep you on the here and now “We are getting Ace out of here I promise”

That is the last thing you hear before everything becomes a blur, but you hold the promise close because you know it was made with a honest and pure heart. The Marines desperate to win the war and execute your lover pounce over you like a wild animal thirsty for what they call justice, but this is just a masacre. You hold onto the idea that this may pass too, like everything does

Somehow you pull trough, how? You still can’t comprehend, probably out of your resilience alone. Helping Luffy up to uncuff Ace’s restraints knowing he’s the only one capable enough to set him free, and he lives up to his name shocking everyone as both brothers decent making the war hold its breath.

That’s when Ace finally can really see you, your face clear and your presence heavy in his heart— it’s like the first time he ever saw you, love is the only thing stirring around his stomach even in the middle of his own demise as you stand in front of him, there’s nothing more he wants than to kiss you senseless right now, cry as you hold him tight grateful you’re here

But this is not over

It might never be

Your feet move at the speed of light, Ace’s hand wrapped around yours in the tightest grip as if grounding him, while also keeping you safe and sound. You must’ve been thrilled, the love of your life free and by your side now, yet, this cruel world seemed to just hate him- forever cursed by the blood running through his veins

It dawns on you very quickly how getting out of this hell wouldn’t be easy, that you will have to leave people behind just to be free, and it pains you both to have to turn your backs on your captain, your dad. You see the distress trough Ace’s face as he escapes, his heart thrumming louder and louder but apparently not loud enough as he catches the voice of Akainu- one of the Marines admiral’s calling his dad weak, even as he dies for you all

He stops, so do you and as you turn to look for his gaze you catch that same glint that was the reason of this nightmare. Ace was angry, it bubbles on his being like it has done so many times before and you know there’s not changing the course of this— you feel hopeless

You stand terrified in the presence of the admiral, a ruthless man that kills in the name of justice but he’s no different to even the most evil criminals he has wiped from the seas. You are not a believer in any means, but you find yourself prying to anyone above that you’re not next on his list

Ace bites back, Akainu lures him as he continues to spit venom on the ones he loves, the symbol tattooed on Ace’s back nothing but reminding you of how far he can go- and he will now

Because he would never turn his back on the people he loves

It all happened so fast yet so slow; your lover hits the ground, red crimson puddle staining the hard floor as you panic. You turn to all directions as if looking for an answer, a miracle that would get you out of here alive

Then you see it, bright and burning at the heat of the sun— Akainu’s punch flies as it tries to burn Luffy like icarus.

The rubber boy that had flew too close to the sun trying to protect the person he loves most

And of course Ace is rushing to protect him

It’s selfish really, the way you’re only thinking about how to get yourself out of this. You want to run away from the war harmless, untouched; alongside the ones you love standing by your side with a future to think about the next morning. It fuels you; all the grief, pain and anger rises and you don’t know how or why— maybe it was the entity up above that heard your desperate pleas and pulled on the strings of destiny

But… You punch Ace

You punch him harder than you have ever punched before, launching both of your hurt bodies to the other side of the battlefield. Akainu’s fist wavers, enough to miss his actual target, his little brother who holds Ace’s life between his fingertips while it sets alight once again

Everything stills, even as you hit the floor hard, you must’ve passed out after all this torturous time fighting, but you hold onto the little sanity and energy you can

Ace is looking at you incredulous— a million emotions tug at him as he looks back between you and his brother. Is he relieved? Angry? Scared?. For a moment his strong morals crumble as his gaze meets yours; you’re tired, so so tired yet hopeful as you plead for him to change his ways eve if it is for just this once, because you’re a selfish bastard

You can’t really make up what he’s saying to you now, you don’t really care as you use all in you to muster

“You must live Ace”

Your body shuts down, limp crashing on Ace’s naked top half as he holds you desperately, both of you may still lay on the battlefield but you feel safe because you know he’ll listen to you— you know he’ll live

And he would never let you down

It’s cold, you can make out a continuous beep that follows the rhythm of your slow heartbeat. You try to adjust the uncomfortable position in which you lay on your back, but your body doesn’t respond not even your eyelids as you beg them to show you where you are— Were you dead? Safe? At the bottom of the sea?

Air slowly enters your lungs, allowing your tired body to settle, you open your eyes a little hesitant now, a gray metal ceiling greets you

Another breath gives you the courage to move, you don’t recognize any of the coroners that your eyes land on, the bed creeks making the cowboy hat by your bed that was still in the corner of your eye jolt up

There they were, those eyes you adored more than anything… and that you thought you’ll never see again. They are different now, puddled with grief yet softer

It was reliving how after your ears had ringed for so long, to listen to your name spoken so softly, so lovingly

“You’re here” Ace can’t even bring himself to touch you, afraid you may shatter and there was just so much he wanted to say, to do, yet he only thanks you

He sobs now, allowing his walls to fall right at your feet because who else could’ve done it if not you

Your scarred hands cup his freckled face tenderly “Ace�� you lived”

What a silly thing to say, of course he lived

Why wouldn’t he live?

Masterlist

I just finished Marineford and omg I just had this looping in my mind, Ace is my favorite character I see a lot of myself in him. This was written in 3 sittings so I may consider writing a corrected/longer version of it if people are interested because I am a huge nerd and love writing takes on arcs and stuff. Anyway Portgas D Ace you would always be famous

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * love grows (where my rosemary goes)

warnings: implied nudity, sex jokes, most quotes are direct from the tower of nero so credits go to uncle rick!! pairing: apollo x goddess! daughter of aphrodite and ares

two weeks. if you counted the time he was gone it would have been more but he was alive then. now he lay silently… and you anxiously wait. artemis places her hand over your free one in comfort

“he will wake up soon”

it was utterly ridiculous. you were a goddess, an immortal goddess yet you still worried about the waking of your also immortal husband. regardless the tears brewing in your eyes, threatening to pool out

“why don’t you grab a snack? take your mind off things”

“no,” you shake your head “I need to stay here”

the hunter goddess sighs and stands, patting your shoulder. “well, I will get you something”

the silence returns to the room. you look around at your surroundings (that you had got quite comfortable with over the past two weeks), a white marble chamber, a columned terrace with a beautiful view of olympus and the intoxicating scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. it was something you grew to hate and yet love. you hated it here because all you could do was sit in sorrow and wait for your beloved to wake from his two week slumber. but you loved it. you spent every day, every night here and you despised it

you sigh and look up to the renaissance painting adorned ceiling. you nearly shed another tear but a squeeze to your right hand stops you. or it leads all the tears to pool out. that’s a story for another time. you snap your head back down to where your husband lays— you see him stirring and his eyes flutter open. you don’t know what to do first; to cry, to scream, to hit him, or hug him. apollo chooses the third option for you. then the both of you break into a sob, holding each other tightly like maybe if you let go one of you would disappear into thin air

“you are such an idiot” you breathe out and you hear the sun god laugh in response— it made you realize how dearly you had missed the melodic laugh of his. or how every room he would walk into would be taken over by melodies instantly, every sound now a beautiful composed tone to it. reluctantly you took a last whiff of his scent and pulled back, yet still unwilling to let your hands leave his.

“how long?”

“what do you mean?”

“how long was I out? what century is it?”

you processed this question. maybe because you wanted to laugh but that would’ve had to stay as something only you knew

“since you fought python, only two weeks have passed”

you expected many different reactions after this statement but the one that hadn’t dared cross your mind was the chosen surprise. apollo jumps up from the couch and throws the sheet to the side, standing fully nude before you. your cheeks redden and you studiously admire the ceiling once again

“what about my friends? they’ll think I’m dead!”

“your sister sent clear omens of your success. they know you’re back on olympus. now would you please put clothing on?”

you hear apollo’s euphonious laugh again. “nothing you haven’t seen before”

“apollo!” you warn. and just as you asked you can feel a breeze from his wishing clothes onto himself. you return your head back down before standing up with a wide smile “thank you”

apollo wraps one arm around your waist, the other hand going to brush your pink cheek before placing a kiss to it. “you’re happy”

“you’re awake”

he places a kiss to your lips now. slowly and un-rushed. but everything good comes to an end eventually

he doesn’t go far, lips still brushing against yours as he speaks, “am I need somewhere?”

“yes,” you frown “but do you think you could stay here a bit?”

“as long as you want”

[unstoppableforcce]

bad dreams

PART ONE: some people are ghosts before they are dead.  pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x f!reader next part a/n: it's been two years! the words don't come as easily anymore but i'm still trying! i hope yall enjoy!!!

Sometimes a drink isn’t just a drink. 

Sometimes quiet isn’t quiet enough. 

Sometimes an ache of something — too raw, too familiar — echoes in your gut and leaves you with no choice. 

They’ll never believe you, you remind yourself, sometimes over and over and over again. They’ll never believe you when you say you had no choice. 

But sometimes you just don’t. 

Sometimes the pangs of sadness reverberate so violently through your chest that you shake into a shape that can’t even be termed human. Sometimes the claws of darkness climb up through your throat and speak for you in a voice you don’t recognize. Sometimes your feet move, step after step, carried by a will you don’t know as your own. 

Sometimes you end up at a bar, ordering a drink you hate, and feel your mouth salivating for it as your stomach churns. 

Penny slid the amber-colored liquid across the length of the counter, sloshing the drink up the sides of the tumbler but never past the rim. Her eyes carefully scan up and down your form, and even as you drop your head away from it, you can feel the weight of her concern settling on your shoulders. 

“Haven’t seen you out and about in a minute…” She said as she accepts your card across the counter, as much a statement as it was a question. 

But you didn’t have any answers for her. 

With a brief shrug, you finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I had some leave.”

“Do anything fun?” Bless her heart for asking. 

“No… just caught up on some sleep, that’s all.” 

You could see in the gentle lines creasing on her forehead that you weren’t getting that one by without suspicion, but if she had any plans of stopping you before your first sip, she didn’t show them. She grabbed a bowl of peanuts, set them on the counter in front of you, and gave you one last smile. “Always glad to see you.”

For the first time in a long time, you looked around a cloud of unfamiliar faces and believed her. Maybe you recognized a few buzz cuts here and there, but the majority of the excitement rattling around the old beach shack bar came from groups of sailors you had never seen. There must have been a recall on pilots, surely something you had received a memo about at some point in the last few weeks, but checking your email hadn’t exactly been top priority. 

Turning back to Penny, you pulled your cigarettes from your pocket and offered her what you could manage of a half smile before pulling your drink from the bar and wandering toward the back porch. 

The sun had only just set as you settle into one of the deck chairs out back, thankful that the few pairs wandering around you pay you no more kind than you pay them. It isn’t silent, certainly not as the waves continue to pound the shore line, but it is quieter and that would do for now. 

You manage to take your first sip when a rowdy group of pilot-types begin ascending the back stairs, tripping over themselves to make it out of the sand. You manage another as they quiet themselves down and make it to the back door and another when the tall blonde at the back of the group met your eye with an appraising look. He doesn’t seem to mind when you return the look, in fact, if it were possible with an ego as large as his already seemed to be, he continued into the bar with his head held a little bit higher. 

You should’ve known that was a mistake then, but your mind was elsewhere as you worked your way to the bottom of your glass. 

You knew for sure that it was a mistake when he walked back out with a two drinks in hand. 

“Hey.” It was a smooth offer, even you’d admit that, passing you the drink in his hand and giving you a similar, yet far more in depth, look up and down. 

There were still a few sips left in the glass in your hand but you accepted the drink and set it carefully down on the table next to you. As his eyes scanned you, you downed what was left in your glass and reached for your new drink. “Hey yourself…”

“Do we know each other?” There’s a quirk in his eye as he asks. Something almost playful, something almost fun.

It takes you about a second to complete your read on him, and another half a second to accept that this is what your next few minutes looked like. 

“Yeah, I’m the woman of your dreams or something I’m sure.”

The laugh that bellows from his chest seems to catch him off guard. Any drop of composure, anything he put on just for the approach, washed away in an instant as the true laughter breaks through.

“I was being serious,” he sighs at the end of his laugh. “You actually look familiar.”

“You don’t.”

“Well, I just got back.”

You should’ve ended it. You should’ve known right there and then that it wasn’t worth your time. Other pilots were never worth your time.

Then he smiles again and you just couldn’t help yourself. “Trust me, we don’t know each other.”

“You’re sure?” His smirk curved up at the edge, a challenge. 

One pointed stare and a mirrored raise of your brow was all it took and his hands shot up in a playful dance of surrender. His bright smile accompanied it and you swore you felt something far too light bubbling the darkness sitting heavy on your chest. 

This was a mistake. 

“Hangman.” He extended his hand your way, offering a shake as he laid his call sign on the table, confirming what you already knew his day job to be. 

You didn’t take it, sipping at your drink instead, watching as he bit back laughter and pulled his hand back. He had pulled back just enough to offer you a way out, you could tell that was his intention at least. He was giving you space to tell him off entirely, and everything about him, from the perfectly manicured hair to the broad shoulders to the boots on his feet, told you to back out now. 

But his smile was telling you something else entirely. And you met him there.

“Is it a good story?”

He tried to hide his satisfaction with the question, doing his best to hold something else in as well as he turned his head to the side and shrugged in a play at indifference that just didn’t suit his ego. “Depends who you ask.”

The porch had emptied out as the sun set completely, leaving just the two of you. So when you leaned your head from left to right and shrugged, he nearly lost it laughing again. “I guess I’m asking you.”

“I’m very quick.”

“Aren’t all of you very quick?”

“They’re quick, I’m very quick.” He gets one laugh out and swallows the rest. “Quite a few have been left behind when they can’t keep up… or so the story goes.”

That almost makes you laugh. Almost. “Not a very good story.” 

“Well, no one asked you.”

How long had it been since a smile bubbled to your lips so naturally? It was barely there, and you certainly did your best to hide it with your drink, but it was a real smile. A natural smile. 

He must have seen it too, offering you yet another chance to meet him halfway. “I didn’t get your name…” 

Your smile isn’t fading. “I don’t have a name.”

“No?” He laughs.

“Nope.” Another sip of your drink brings you painfully close to the bottom. 

“You work on base?” He tries a new line of questioning, anything to get more than a few words in a row out of you. 

Your head feels a bit heavier than it should as you weigh it back and forth before offering a non-committal hum. He repeats it back to you in question and you sigh, offering him an answer. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Sometimes? You don’t look like a civilian?”

Part of you can’t help but wonder what that means you do look like, but you don’t bother. Shaking your head, you answer, “not a civilian, just complicated.”

“I can do complicated.” 

That seemed to be whatever you needed to push you the rest of the way over the edge. A reminder from the echoing voice in your head, from the clawing darkness in your gut. 

This was a mistake. 

He didn’t know who you were, he didn’t know what he walked himself into. This wasn’t fair to him. 

And it certainly wasn’t fair to you. 

Pretending was fun. In some of these darkest moment, distraction was the only thing keeping you sane, but it would never last. You knew it could never last. 

You came for a drink, something to wash the bad taste in your mouth away long enough to sleep through the night. You didn’t come to ruin someone else’s night. It just wasn’t fair to either of you. 

“I’m sure you excel at it, Lieutenant.” You mock with a heat you hadn’t been able to muster when he first gave you the chance. “Look… this has been a fun few minutes but if you’re looking to have another fun few minutes tonight, you’re wasting your time with me.”

“I disagree.” The offer on the table wasn’t there anymore. He gave you a chance but you were in it now, you could see it on his face. That smile. He was feeding off the back and forth. He liked this. 

Fuck. This was a mistake. 

“Well, I’m glad I can be a source of entertainment but I’m serious.” Additional heat but his smile never melted. He didn’t just like this, he liked you. 

“Serious is a strange name for a woman as pretty as you are but if that’s what you go by…”

You couldn’t help the small turn of a smile this time, you beat it down with heavy fist but he could still pull it out of you like it was nothing. 

“Should I try guessing your name?” He’d give anything to keep your smile going. Anything he could. “Normal name? ’parents tried to be unique’ name? you kinda look like you could go either way.”

And as much as you knew you should back out, something light, something you barely even recognized in your chest, kept beating and you kept going. “Well your parents named you Hangman, so I don’t know if you’re really allowed to talk.”

He’s halfway through a sip of beer and sputters at your words. As he catches himself and wipes his lips, he smiles again, “it’s Jake, actually.”

“Jacob or just 'Jake'?”

“I don’t think parents name their kids just Jake-“

“Yeah, Jake is a pretty stupid name.”

“I meant just 'Jake'-“

“I honestly can’t tell anymore if your name is Jake or Jacob now-“

The rumble of laughter is cut short, like wind to a flame. 

A group of sailors roll out the door, drunkenly hanging off each other and locked into the chorus of whatever song had been playing through the walls just a minute ago. The three of them barely notice the stairs they’re falling down, so for a few seconds, your heart stays where it is in your chest. But the seconds fall quickly through the hourglass when the taller of the group stands to full height and a roughly 15 degree angle and turns back to where you and Hangman are sitting. 

A mustache and a face you know right away. 

“Holy shit, Ghost?”

Now silence and the crashing waves is all you can hear. 

Jake’s head turns in realization, matching your face, ever so slightly older, to the pictures of previous top gun classes they had been scanning through just days ago. Few are lucky enough to hold the title of best of the best, and you were one of them. Or you had been. 

All Jake knew now was that you didn’t fly fighter jets anymore. “Shit.” He says almost silently.

It was a mistake. At least you could leave knowing you were right about that now.

“Bradley Bradshaw…” you hum, taking the last swig of your drink and finding your feet. “Now that’s a pretty unfortunate name.”

Jake wants to laugh with you as you pass by, but you aren’t laughing and when he notices how quickly you’ve abandoned your smile, he can’t find it in him to laugh again. 

Rooster musters up a half-hearted and mostly drunken apology that you wave your hand at, figuring he’ll forget he ever saw you by the time the sun re-emerges. He tries again as you step past him but again, you dismiss him. “Don’t worry about it.”

It isn’t until you find the stairs that you turn back to find Jake’s waiting stare. “Thanks for the drink.”

He nods, unable to find any other semblance of words. 

And you carry on, hoping the bottle of liquor in your nightstand can calm the nerves boiling under your skin at the mere mention of your call sign. 

[sanccharine]

02 | first sight

single parent au, neighbours au 

pairing: single parent!san x reader   genre:  word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, parents could be pushy, also mentions of the cheating

summary: 

status: ongoing  a/n: really wanted to get this out so here it is. that being said, to any new people to this account, i suck at schedules so please do not expect timely posts on this series, love and peace on planet earth <3

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

“Hey.”

“Hey, hey—oh, sweetheart, we can’t see your face?” 

Well, yeah. You had your phone facing the ground. 

Biting down the groan, you looked around to locate the switch to turn on the living room lights. “Just give me a second, I’m doing something, I’ll just—” 

Fingers barely scraping the edge of the light switch, you turned on your knees, almost standing up at full height when you turned on the switch. The perks of earning money and designing the home you wanted was the fact that you installed dimmer lights. A warm welcoming amber slowly washed over the room, lighting up everything you hoped you wouldn’t see until tomorrow’s sunlight reminded you.

Moving boxes. Lone boxcutter. Discarded clothes. 

With a sigh, you took your place back on the floor and reached for your phone. 

“There you are!” your dad basically screamed, forcing you to push your phone far away from you and spam the volume button to lower the noise. 

“Here I am,” you groaned as you brought the phone back to show your face. 

You look like shit. 

“You look like shit,” your dad said, only to receive a smack from your mother. “What, it's true! Are you not eating? You look like you’ve lost weight. Is that husband of yours not feeding you—!”

His face blurred as the phone was yanked away from him and instead replaced by your mother’s face. 

“Not husband,” you joked as usual, though now more sardonic than ever before. 

“Yet,” your father added as he shoved himself back into the screen. 

For a man who could barely tell the difference between granulated sugar and powdered salt, you’re not surprised his poor observational skills extended to being unable to read the room. Or just identify emotions, for that matter. 

“That’s enough,” your mother said, standing up and moving away to another room but not before throwing your father a pointed glare. Your father protested, but he was far too lazy to actually follow your mother, so his voice died out when the door closed. With a similar sigh to you, your mother seated herself on your childhood bed. “Why are you on the floor, sweetheart?” 

If your father was as perceptive as a distracted toddler, then your mother was the exact opposite. 

Attempting to steer away from her question would be futile. 

With another sigh, you admitted. “I’m just tired I guess.” 

She pursed her lips. You could guess what she would say, but was stopping herself as you had asked her to do. At least one of your parents attempted to understand your boundaries and requests. 

Why don’t you buy a car?

“Why don’t you lie down on your bed?” 

That’s not a better question but you couldn’t fault her, she didn’t know your situation. Mentally shaking away your desire to whine, you answered truthfully. Or at least as truthfully as you could without revealing what just happened. 

“I don’t know, I just find the floor comforting I guess,” you attempted a small chuckle. It felt forced even to your ears. 

“You still haven’t set up the bed, have you,” she angled her question as a statement, if only to attempt to join in on your poor excuse. 

“No, I haven’t,” your words trailed off at the end, you couldn’t carry the light tone. Should you have said ‘we’?

“Did your fiancé not help?” 

You couldn’t look your mother in the eye. Instead, you stared past your phone and at the gray slacks on the floor. 

Your mother hummed a note of question before moving on. “Please set it up over the weekend, sweetheart.”

“I will.” You will. 

“I’ll let you go now. Eat dinner please before you go to sleep, order something if you have to,” she said, reading you as easily as a children’s tale. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

Mumbling your ‘I love you’ back, you cut the call and dropped your phone to the floor. 

Dinner. Sleep. Work. Then the weekend. 

One more day before you could let yourself shatter into a million unidentifiable pieces that could never be put back together. One more day. 

You barely slept. The couch wasn’t exactly made for sleeping. And breakfast was a cereal bar you found at the back of your cupboard. It will have to do. 

Making sure you were somewhat presentable for a nine-hour shift, you exited your apartment. 

Just as you stepped out, you caught a glimpse of the person living opposite you. The briefest of images since he was turned away from you. The most striking feature being his broad back nearly covering the width of the door. His hair was a black tousled mess and matchingly he was dressed head to toe in black. Though, what startled you was his greeting. 

“Good morning,” his voice was low, soft, still groggy from sleep. And with that, he was in his apartment and locking his door. 

You stood at your door for a second, a hand on your door handle, the door waiting to be closed so it can automatically lock your apartment. Darting your gaze up and down the corridor, you come to the conclusion he was talking to you. So you did what anyone would do.

“Uh, morning,” although your greeting was to an empty door. 

Well, at least now you couldn’t say you never interacted with your neighbour. 

Shaking away your confusion, you made your way to the elevator and walked to the bus stop near your block. It was a short walk so the interaction was fresh in your mind. Though not for long. 

“Good morning!” a cheery tone greeted you, as you came to a stop by the bus station. You knew that voice.

In an instant, you were looking to your left. It was the young girl from last night!

“Nice to see you again,” she smiled at you, all wide and chipper. 

This time around her hair was in two braids on the other side of her face, tied up with carefully crafted purple ribbons. You doubted the bows would last the school day, though they did look adorable. Her school bag was almost more than half her size and you noticed the patterns of dinosaurs. They were hand-drawn, cartoon-like, so the dinosaurs looked a bit goofy, you supposed, but identifiable nonetheless. And the colours… were colourful, for sure, but the only thing that matters was that she likes it. So purple and dinosaurs are a favourite. Cute. 

The young girl was also holding a carry bag with containers of… cupcakes.  

“Uh, yeah, morning, kid,” you stammered much like you did with your neighbour. “Nice to see you too.”

“Did you sleep well?” she asked without missing a beat and you couldn't help but look around to check if she was still talking to you. 

No, not at all.

“Yeah, decent. You?” you asked out of politeness, still facing the road. 

“Could’ve been better, to be honest,” she chuckled to herself. “I think my father is more exhausted though.” 

“Oh, is that so?” What were you doing?

“Yeah, we were up all night making cupcakes! He stayed up much later though,” She shook the bag in her hands. Alright, they were cupcakes. 

“Oh,” you repeated as you stalled for a way to converse with a child. “Nice.” 

“Would you like to try one?” She was already reaching into her bag and opening the container. 

“Oh, no! No, it’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Here you go, I designed this one!” 

Extending her hand, you saw the beautiful cupcake she picked out. The icing was a harmony of delicate purples, pinks, and blues. They were piped to a precision that only a steady hand could bring, the design formed a flower… the name of which slipped your mind. 

“They’re hydrangea cupcakes, because, you know,” the girl said, wiggling the cupcake in front of you like some bait. “Do they look like them?” 

You stared at the cupcake, then at her and nodded. Hydrangeas, yeah, those. 

“That’s good, I worked really hard to learn how to pipe them,” she giggled before pushing the cupcake closer to you. 

Now, would you be an asshole to reject her? 

Thinking of how to navigate this social situation, you were reminded of last night. That same smile of hers and her near-perfect manners. 

“Listen, kid, about last night,” you started, still only looking at the treat. “I hope I didn’t freak you out or—”

“No worries, I know you were only concerned for me,” she nodded, urging you to take the cupcake. “Please take it, as a thank you. My father also appreciated it.”

“Alright,” you shifted your laptop bag in your hand before taking the cupcake with an awkward smile. 

The girl just stared at you, waiting… right.

With another brief smile, you peeled the cupcake sheet to take a bite. 

Maybe it was the fact that you craved sugar from all your stress. Or perhaps the fact that you had a questionable breakfast. But the cupcake was absolutely divine. It took all of your strength not to shove the cupcake into your mouth and gulp it down. The icing was a bit too sweet for your taste, but the sponge cake balanced it out.

Gulping down a bite, you nodded. “So good.” 

Her smile widened, that sparkle in her eyes returning again and you couldn’t help but share that smile with her. Something about her carefreeness alleviated the burning in your chest. A brief reprieve from the shitshow that is your life, but a reprieve nonetheless. 

“What are you making cupcakes for?” you asked, a genuine curiosity laced in your small voice before taking another bite.

“We have a bake sale today, so,” she shuffled her bag in her hand, though only slightly so as to not mess up the treats. 

You frowned, reaching into your pocket as you asked, “hold on, should I be paying you?”

“Oh, no! No, like I said, this is a gift,” she shook her head when she saw you pull out your wallet. 

“You sure? I don’t mind,” you said, rooting to pull out some notes. “How much?”

“Seriously, it’s alright,” she grinned, pink tinting her round cheeks. She was so adorable that you felt bad for getting a free cupcake, but you doubted she’d take your money. 

Nodding, you put away your wallet before turning back to the road, both of you patiently waiting by the bus stop for your respective buses. It was so early in the morning, that the sky had barely lightened. You travelled early to beat the rush of the trains. The last thing you needed was being smushed next to other people and tolerating their presence first thing in the morning. 

Pausing your internal grumbling, you turned to the little girl and frowned. “Kid.”

She craned her neck to look up at you, a hum as her response. 

“Why are you up this early?” you asked, it was a fair question considering there were only two other students at the bus stop. A young boy and a girl, though they wore different uniforms. Surely, these buses can’t be arriving so early for these kids. 

“My school is quite far,” she said, her demeanour dimming just slightly. “So I’m the first to be picked up and last to be dropped.” 

Well, that was some terrible luck. 

“When does school start?”

“We have to be in the homeroom by seven forty-five.”

It was just about six-thirty.

“That is…” Fucked is the word you’d like to use, but you doubt that's appropriate language to use with a child. “That—That sounds awful.”

“It really is,” she agreed but then shrugged, easily shaking off her fleeting somberness. “But it gives me time to catch up on my sleep!” 

Well, that’s a positive spin. And it works considering she didn’t need to be concerned about missing her stop. 

“Fair enough,” you nodded and turned back to the road. Your bus should be here soon. 

Another silence banketed the pair of you, before your bus pulled into a stop. 

“Good luck with your sale, kid,” you mumble, before adding, “and thanks for the cupcake.” 

Her grin widened, pushing up her rosy cheeks further. It was almost cherub-like. Were kids always this adorable? That can’t be. 

“Thanks, have a good day!” she waved as you climbed in and took a seat. 

She was still waving when the bus pulled away from the stop. 

Of course, you were aware that this would happen but unfortunately, you did not see the young girl later that day. Probably because she returned home way earlier than you did. You hoped her sale went well, and considering her delicious goodies, you were sure she had no problems raking in the cash. 

Somewhat motivated about the weekend, you took a ten-minute break on your couch to ease the pain in your back before starting to clean. The first chore to tackle was the many many bags of take-out that should’ve been discarded a long time ago. Grabbing two bags in each hand to make this a one-time trip, you waddled your way out of your apartment. The garbage chute was only to the right around the corner. 

Just as you were struggling to bring your tired fingers to grab the door handle, the door opened towards you. Stepping back, you shifted your bags to a more comfortable position, waiting for the person to step out. But instead of simply leaving, the person stayed, holding the door for you. 

“Good evening,” they said. Low and delicate. You knew that voice. No longer slow from grogginess anymore. 

And much like in the morning, you fumbled your words. What is with the residents of this building?

“Uh, thanks—and yeah, good evening to you too,” you couldn’t have sounded more reluctant. You stepped into the garbage room as you spoke, pointedly avoiding looking at your neighbour. 

“No problem,” is all he said, before letting the door close after him. You turned in time just to catch his profile, his eyes scrunched shut with a small upward curve at the corner of his lips. 

Was he laughing at you?

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: hey chat realistically how long does it take to get over a breakup HFKJSDF

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

taglist: @eternallyghosting

[predestinatos]

love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view

word count: 4k

tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.

warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering

“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.

Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.

You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.

“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.

You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.

“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.

The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.

Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.

You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.

You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.

Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.

“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.

Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.

“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?

Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.

He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.

But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.

“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.

Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.

“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.

His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.

And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?

He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.

Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.

You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.

“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”

Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.

“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.

You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.

And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.

His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”

For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.

Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”

His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.

Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.

The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”

Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.

The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”

You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.

“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.

“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.

Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.

His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.

You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.

“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.

The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.

As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.

You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.

@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

[elementroar]

Just quick recap of the Slayer patch in relation to A.B.A and Paracelsus:

1) No special interactions acknowledging their past encounter prior to GGXX ACCENT CORE. Bummer.

2) However, interestingly updated GG World glossaries and entries related to them. First is that as shown by Kaialone’s post, there’s no longer any ‘not really her husband’ or ‘she thinks of as her husband’ style statements for Paracelsus’ bio. Paracelsus is now plainly stated to be her husband.

And the second update is to Paracelsus’ glossary entry updated to explain how Paracelsus’ shapeshifting works and A.B.A’s part in it. Paraphrasing as I haven’t seen the entry myself firsthand as of writing, but it says that Paracelsus's form is shaped entirely by A.B.A's thoughts and the only reason why he doesn't end up human is because of “A.B.A's subconscious fear that he would leave her if he had a human body".

Both these lore updates are surprisingly very direct. The way I see it, Paracelsus’ bio updated to remove ambiguity of his part and role in their relationship seems to confirm he reciprocates romantically on some level and that it isn’t just in A.B.A’s mind/dreams. It’ll be interesting if he does actually introduce himself as her husband in future interactions with other characters.

It also means Slayer is totally biting someone’s wife in front of her husband when he bites A.B.A. So not Dandy!

And we get confirmation of just how much power A.B.A has over Paracelsus’ form. Apparently she doesn’t just morph him into vaguely key-shaped weapons, she can make him into ANYTHING she wants by sheer will.

And if she goes to therapy and gets over her remaining doubts and fears, human Paracelsus is actually THAT close to being canon. The fact the glossary acknowledges this is so directly is refreshing!

It’s so weird how this changes from previous lore where she had to find another machine to do the process. She now has the power to do it at any time and I don’t think she realizes it.

It also explains why she stopped seriously considering her original plan anymore after the arcade ending. Her heart was never really into the mission of getting Para a human body, she had the lingering fear.

[kaslynspeaksless]

they talk and talk but all I hear are voices in my head

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: implied/referenced past character deaths, implied depression, referenced fatal car crash

Summary: No one's seen Scar since the funerals, and the hermits are starting to get worried. Mumbo's wondering how he ended up in a situation so heavily reliant on small talk. Scar just wants to water his sunflowers.

previous | ao3 | next

It had been at least two weeks since anyone had heard from Scar.

Reasonably, people had begun to worry. After all, the man had been through something indescribable—something no one could forget. So collectively, as a group, they had decided to send someone to check on Scar. See how he was doing. A pre-intervention, if you will.

As Mumbo stood on the front step of the door he had just knocked on, he was seriously second-guessing his credentials for this situation. He was also wondering why on earth he had decided to volunteer for it.

The door swung open, and he jumped. Scar looked him up and down, appraising him.

“Mumbo.” A statement, devoid of any feeling. An observation.

“Scar.” A reply, filled with trepidation. An acknowledgment.

They looked at each other for a few moments (or rather, Mumbo looked at Scar and Scar looked everywhere but Mumbo), before Scar stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come in, then.”

He obliged and followed the man into the kitchen. He grabbed a chair and cautiously sat down at the table, not exactly sure where to go from here. His plan had extended only up to getting inside the house which, now that he thought about it, was a definite oversight. Thankfully Scar, ever the conversationalist, began for him.

“Tea?”

“Sure.”

He opened a cabinet door and grabbed a kettle, turning his back to Mumbo as he filled it with water. “So, what brings you by my humble abode?”

“Oh, you know, I was ah... in the neighborhood, and just thought I might check in. See how you’ve been holding up, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, fine, fine," he replied, waving one hand in the air as the other flicked on the stove. "You just keep on doing what you used to, settle back into old routines. Don’t drive much anymore, but you know how it is.”

“...I’m not sure I do, actually.”

Scar’s shoulders stiffened for a split-second before returning to their sloped, casual demeanor. It wasn't natural; more careful. Practiced. “No, I suppose not. Probably for the best, huh?”

“Er, yeah.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop. Mumbo fidgeted, again wondering what spirit had possessed him when he volunteered to do this. He had never been good at small talk. Especially not small talk with your friend who had survived a car crash which killed five of your other friends, and whom you haven’t talked to since the funerals.

“You know, a watched pot never boils,” he finally tried, and Scar huffed a short laugh.

The silence returned, awkward after the failed joke, until the kettle finally whistled.

“Earl gray?”

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.”

Scar busied himself for a few minutes preparing the mugs, finally placing one in front of Mumbo along with a jar of honey and a jug of milk, taking the chair across from him.

Mumbo added milk.

Scar added honey.

Mumbo looked at Scar.

Scar studied his drink.

He tasted it.

He studied it again.

Mumbo cleared his throat.

Scar added more honey.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t make eye contact.

Finally, Mumbo broke, the awkward silence too much for him to bear. “Have you talked to anyone, lately?” He hadn’t meant to start quite so abruptly but—well, he wasn’t good in these kind of situations, ok?

Scar took a moment to respond, still stirring. “Like who?”

“Jimmy? Cub? Most of the Hermits have said they haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. I mean, I don’t think I’ve spoken to you since the... well, the funerals. And when was the last time you v—"

“I talked to Xisuma,” Scar interrupted, shrugging nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just cut the man off.

Mumbo blinked but continued forwards, grasping whatever straws he was presented. “When was that?”

He shrugged again, turning his gaze away from his tea and towards the window that overlooked the backyard. “A week or two ago, I guess. I’ve mostly been gardening.”

Mumbo’s eyes remained on Scar. “How’s work been? Have you been managing alright with the cane, and living alone?”

Another shrug. “Been working from home, mostly. Only go in when they call. I think the sunflowers will start blooming soon.”

“But Scar, you—you love that job because of the on-site work,” he sputtered. “You love working with all the people and being hands-on with the equipment, you said—"

“I’ve been thinking about growing stuff other than flowers,” Scar interrupted, his gaze never wavering from the glass. “Like tomatoes, and peppers, maybe some herbs. It’d be a nice addition.”

“I—I mean, I’m sure it would, but—"

“Plus, then I’d have fresh veggies on hand. And I wouldn’t have to worry about running out of parsley.” He took a sip. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I think I’ll do that.”

“...sounds excellent, Scar,” Mumbo responded, resigned. Clearly, Scar was not in the mood to talk about all the things he had (or rather, hadn’t) been up to since becoming a literal hermit. So instead of forcing the matter, Mumbo would let the man talk about whatever he wanted, and maybe if he played his cards right he could guide the conversation back to why he had come. And if not?

Well. He wasn’t quite sure.

“You know, I make a really good roast, Mumbo. Have you ever had one of my roasts?”

“I don’t believe I have.”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I made one the other night. Threw it out, though. A shame, I could’ve given it to you. Probably could’ve eaten it as leftovers, too, but I wasn’t really thinking straight when the whole kref— kerlf— kerfluffle happened.”

“I— you threw out a whole roast? Why?”

A shrug. “Forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

No response. Mumbo wasn’t even sure the man had actually heard him. “Scar? What did you forget?”

“People love my roasts.” Scar was still looking out the window, but Mumbo didn’t think he was looking at the garden anymore. “They asked me to make one while we were there, you know. We were going to go grocery shopping. I was in charge of the list of ingredients we’d need for dinner throughout the week.”

There was a small clatter as Scar’s mug knocked against the table. His hands were shaking. “Everyone had a job, did you know that? Joel didn’t, though, so he said his was being the driver. We didn’t realize how serious he was about it, I swear. It was a 14 hour drive, and—and we tried to convince him to take a break, but he refused.”

Mumbo felt something soft and heavy brush past his legs a moment before Jellie jumped onto the table. Scar’s hand automatically moved towards her, and she pushed her head into it as he stroked, purring. “He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t let anyone else drive, even though he was obviously so tired, but we were almost there and so we just thought an hour or two more couldn’t hurt, and the traffic had been slow, and then...”

Without warning, Scar snapped back to reality. His shoulders tightened, and his blank, distant look cycled through several expressions before finally settling on a large grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “But look at me, jabbering on and on about old, sad news like you have all day. Why, I do believe the sun’s started to set! And here I am, being a Downey Debber. Don’t let me hold you up from all the important business I’m sure you have to attend to.”

Mumbo opened his mouth to argue that he did have all day and even all night to talk to Scar—but the man was already ushering him out of the kitchen, and before he could even blink he was outside and the door had shut in his face.

There was a quiet but distinct click of a lock turning, and he sighed. Someone else might’ve simply continued banging on the door until Scar grew tired of the noise and let them back in—for that matter, someone else wouldn’t have even ended up outside in the first place—but Mumbo was not that man. So instead, he slid on the coat Scar had unceremoniously shoved into his hands, pulled up the collar, and began the walk home.

There were a lot of things that had happened in that conversation—some things so very Scar, and others so very not Scar. It made him glad he had decided to walk—the fresh air and steady rhythm of his steps would help him think, not to mention give him the much needed time to digest everything before he attempted to relay the interaction to the other hermits.

But as he walked alone down the sidewalk, cars occasionally rushing past, the setting sun causing the shadows to grow long and dark, replaying the conversation over and over, the one thing he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about was that in that entire time, Scar’s eyes had never once met his.