#I would like to say this was just something I thought of please don't take this too extremely

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking af your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god,you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[yenyu1s]

(눈,코,입) eyes, nose, lips.. barista!kang sae-byeok x f!reader written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang sae-byeok x f!reader contents : hurt/angst, pure fluff on some parts! - mentions of death, blood hint of violence. sae-byeok is kind of ooc.. that's all i could think of! synopsis : kang sae-byeok would've never thought true love would find its way to a person like her. that was before she met.. you. in the pages of her safekept journal, she poured out her deepest feelings, capturing every sweet moment spent by your side, and every unspoken word held close to her heart. now, you cling to those entries, reading them each night, knowing she will never return. wc : 6.69k taglist : @madebysae @saebyeokbliss @knfthxv

(a/n) i'm so drowning in school work i asked chatgpt to proofread and correct my grammar LOL! so i apologize if there are any mistakes in my grammar or annotation! (for more, masterlist)

june 9, 2021.

"if.. if i were to disappear, someday.." the tired girl beside you murmured, "..would you wait for me?.."

the unexpected question made you shake off your exhaustion, you tilted you head upwards at your lover, "sae.. what are you saying?" you bat your lashes at her in disbelief. a weary smile plastered across your face. unsure of the true meaning behind the query.

"don't ask, just answer." she retorted, a different emotion you had never seen before from her laced her voice. was it.. fear?

you were both in the living room sofa legs and arms tangled together, bodies intertwined at your tight, shared apartment. your stomach begins to twist more and more with each second you spent overanalyzing the question.

"really, sae-byeok? you ask such weird-" you forced a giggle before sae-byeok stops you.

"please.. please. just answer." there was a tinge of irritation in her voice, something was definitely wrong.

you mustered up every bit of strength left in your body to answer. "yeah! of course i would silly.. i'd wait for you in every single lifetime." you smiled innocently.

the short-haired girl beside you tore her gaze away from the tv that was playing your beloved soap opera. you noticed her eyes were practically bulging out of her sockets, her eyes fixated on you with furrowed eyebrows. her lips curled into a faint frown. it almost looked.. sorrowful. as if she was whispering an apology without a single word.

"what's wrong?" you asked sweetly. eyes tracing the shadows in hers, searching for echoes of emotion.

she didn't say anything — instead, she placed her trembling, cold hands on the nape of your neck and pressed a kiss to your temple, as if sealing a fragile promise.

you hummed in contentment, forgetting about the uncanny conversation you both had as you snuggled closer to her, taking in her scent of cheap cologne and cedarwood, before quietly drifting to sleep.

unbeknownst to your conscious mind, sae-byeok was quietly shuddering and sobbing while cradling you tight. afraid you'd slip away. tears streamed down her constellated cheeks. leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your skin and lips.

with the final gentle peck on the tip of your nose, she slipped away from your loving grasp.

she stepped into the night— into the arms of fate, never to return.

june 21, 2021.

the bright sunlight seeped through the cracks of your blinds, a gentle cascade of gold that pooled on to your messy bed.

you squinted and scratched your eyes at the harsh light, feeling around the covers for your reading glasses. putting them on once you find the pair of spectacles. your under-eyes were painted black, the aftermath of crying the night before, your eyebags told their own story of a broken heart.

oh,

another day.

you thought to yourself.

you turned over to your bedside table, trying to make sense of the neon numbers that flickered on your alarm clock

11.55...

you didn't feel like getting up. there was nothing left to look forward to in life after the disappearance of your one true love. the vibrant colors of life had dulled to a muted grey, just like the hollow ache that filled your chest ever since she walked away, leaving nothing but a lonely apartment and the ghost of her prescence.

but seong gi-hun had other plans.

buzz. buzz. buzz.

he repeatedly pushed the doorbell in front of the door of your apartment with such urgency that not even a normal person would have.

you groaned at the repeated hum of the apartment doorbell, letting out a bitter laugh as you buried your head further into your pillowcase.

"alright.. i'm coming.. i'm coming!" you yelled out from your wrecked bedroom, the hem of your pearlescent night gown caught on the edge of your bed, tugging at you, pulling you back to the reality you didn’t want to face. you groggily shook the loose string off before shuffling your way to the front door.

you swung open the front door to be greeted with an ill looking uncle with an awful red-dye job standing awkwardly with his finger still hovering over the doorbell, as if caught in the act of interrupting your solitude.

"can i help you?" your small hoarse voice rang through the silence. you took notice of your messy hair, running a hand through it trying to smooth it down, but it was hopeless.

"oh.. oh, yeah. are you.." he stammered, glancing down at a crumpled piece of grid paper in his hand. "(y/n)?" the red haired man murmured.

you nodded hesitantly, stomach twisting with an unease you couldn’t place. "yeah. yeah that's me, what is this about?" you tapped your foot rhythmically on the floorboard of your entrance, looking rather agitated and impatient.

"i'm.. seong gi-hun." the man gulped, a pitiful look shined in his eyes. "we need to talk about.. your girlfriend, kang sae-byeok?"

you felt your world crumbling down on you at sound of her name.

the name that used to taste oh, so sweet at the tip of your tongue now felt like an anchor, dragging you under the weight of memories you weren’t ready to face.

sae-byeok? kang sae-byeok. your kang sae-byeok?

what happened to her? how did this man know who you are? how did he find you?

a million different questions stormed your mind as you disassociate yourself from the conversation. all you could do was stare. frozen.

before you knew it, you were seated on the couch, the same one she had left you on that one fateful night.

"she's.. dead. (y/n).."

no.

the weight of his words pressed against your chest. stealing the breath from your lungs. you curled your fingers into fists, knuckles turning white, your long nails digging to the skin of your palms.

"no.. that's- no you're wrong." you let out a shaky breath. "not my sae-byeok. definitely not my sae-byeok. she's not dead.." your voice cracked.

you saw the look in his eyes, a raw emotion radiating from them. the hard, cold news that laid on top of your chest? they punched through, leaving hollow mark on your body.

the absurdity of it all made you bubble up a wild, manic laugh. not long after, a loud sob wracked your body, sudden and violent.

"i-i'm sorry (y/n), i tried my best to save her.. but someone else had already gotten to her first."

you didn't pay attention to gi-hun's words or explanation of the 'games' that they were forced to play for an unbelievable sum of money. your fingers twitched at your sides, grasping at nothing, searching for something—someone—to hold onto. you held onto a piece of her, but all that remained was emptiness.

"she.. she almost made it to the final game, she fought her hardest! she really did. but.. she succumbed to her injuries."

"sae-byeok died in my arms. her final breath whispered your name. she begged me to cling to life, so that in my survival, you might find the closure she longed for.”

a scream built up in your throat, you shook your head frantically at each word that came out of the man.

"why?" you choked, your lips quivering with such intensity. "why.. why didn't she tell me? i would've been by her side."

fat tears started to roll down your face as you sunk into the sofa, "why didn't she tell me she was struggling?"

your cries punctured through gi-hun's heart, emotions welled up inside him.

"i'm sorry.. i'm truly sorry.." he shut his eyes closed, surpressing his tears.

you buried your face in your hands, gi-hun ushered himself by your side, patting your back. as if offering a sliver of comfort in a sea of grief.

sae-byeok..

sae..

her name echoed through your mind, your brain's hard drive overloading with the thought of her.

did she feel alone in her last moments?

did she felt upset? fear? as she slipped into her death?

did she know she’d never see me again?

where did they put her body?

i should've paid more attention to her!

sae-byeok, i'm sorry..

oh cheol.. how am i going to break the news to him?

i'm never gonna see her again! your thoughts wailed

you kept scolding yourself burying your face deeper into your heavy palms. trying to hide from the world.

the world that kept spinning, even after her death.

clink.

you uncovered your face at the sound of a light clink that snapped you out of your spiral.

a gold, antique key presented in front of you by mr. gi-hun.

you looked up at the man, he seemed to be getting ready to leave.

"sae-byeok, she.. she slipped this in the pocket of my tux." gi-hun mumbled.

"she said it opened a chest, somewhere.. somewhere in her study desk."

your heart skipped a beat.

the chest.

it was a medium-sized storage chest that sae-byeok had thrifted a few years back, collecting dust on top of her study desk. it's exterior was wood, now darkened with age, etched with delicate cracks like the veins of an autumn leaf.

gi-hun was already long gone when you finally found the strength to stand on your legs and move towards the chest.

you inserted the icy-cold key into the keyhole, using a hundred percent of your body strength that is left in you, to turn the key and make it creak open. particles of dust flew in the air surrounding you. you hack and cough at the soot.

inside, there laid a black, hard-covered journal that was about 500 pages thick and loose pieces of parchment that you had never seen before.

you traced the journal with such care, as you unlatch the magnet of the book. suspense building up inside of your chest as you are met with the first page.

a knot tightening in your chest.

'kang sae-byeok' written in a familiar, cursive handwriting. your heart ached.

i can't do this, you thought to yourself.

the tears welled up again.

the urge to cry out her name deepens in you. you whimpered at the sight of her messy handwriting. you missed her so much.

you shook off your tears. reaching to flip over to the first entry.

january 3rd, 2019.

the gears on your mind turned, as you try to remember the significance of that date to sae-byeok.

your breath hitched in realization, a wave of emotions engulfed you.

"oh, sae.."

january 3, 2019.

entry #1 —

she is going to be a problem.

an awfully loud girl waltzed in to the café today. dressed head to toe in clothes that i would never be caught dead in. her friends stuck by her side like lost, blind puppies.

she ordered chamomile tea with cinnamon ginger biscuit on the side.

despite my silence, despite the way I barely looked up— she spoke to me.

she spoke to me?

i did not want to talk to her.

her eyes crinkles when she smiled, lips curling in a knowing laugh, as if she saw through me, as if she found me amusing.

her friends shared silent laughs and snickers behind her, but she didn’t pay attention too much.

i despise the way she acts.

..

"oh my, are those freckles real..? they're so pretty!" you admired the starry speckles that painted her cheeks. your words too gentle.

sae-byeok was unmoved, untouched.

an embarrassed, hardened expression crept up her face.

..

january 5, 2019.

entry #2 —

she came back again, the loud girl.

but this time, she was alone— quieter, more restrained, a shadow of the girl from before.

from what i've observed, i guess she was just putting on a facade in front of her friends. to.. impress them?

i mean i get it.. kind of.

she still annoys me though.

while i was taking her usual order, she gave me her name.

..

"(y/n)" you said softly, your fingers brushed the warm cafe counter.

sae-byeok looked at you, confusion evident in her expression.

"what?"

"my name.." you started, playing with your fingers, twisting and turning them. "..is (y/n)

"oh.." sae-byeok mumbled, her reaction was underwhelming. "pretty." she added, struggling to find the right words.

sae-byeok's face turned tomato red.

she facepalmed herself. what was she thinking? pretty? that's too straightforward.

"sae-byeok" the tall girl mustered up a courage to give her name in exchange, wishing you’d wipe the grin off your face.

"wow.." you sigh. "..pretty!" you mimicked the girl's reply.

the heat that built up in sae-byeok's chest threatened to explode, but she held back.

..

january 15, 2019.

entry #9 —

(y/n) visited the café again today.

the past few times, she had only stopped by for takeaway, her presence fleeting like a passing breeze.

i never spoke to her, only watched from a quiet distance.

she's not all that bad after all, i guess. actually, we had some things in common.

she was studying psychology at a nearby university, and had started her 1st semester.

if money didn’t hold me back, i'd be studying psychology by this time too.

she was my age — 18 years old.

it was rare to have someone my age around. my days were filled with the company of middle-aged men and kind old aunties, their lives so far removed from my own. but then, there was her.

every time she smiles and the sun reflects her eyes, the way her hair flows like a cascade of silk as she throws her head back in laughter, or whenever she places her delicate, polished hands on my forearm in agreement —just for a second—I feel something stir deep within me.

..it does something to me.

something i've never felt before.

i can't shake it off.

do-hee, my co-worker, said that it was blatant flirting. but i dismissed her.

me? the subject of someone’s interest?

yeah right.

she is a mystery to me, an unraveling poem—every glance, every gesture, a verse waiting to be discovered.

i need to get to know her.

i hope she comes back tomorrow.

..

"are you saying you've never watched train to busan?" you laughed, appalled at the tall girl's answer.

she shrugged, "well.. yeah.. do i have to?"

"oh, absolutely sae. be prepared with tissue boxes though. it's not going to look pretty."

"s-sae..?"

"yeah! a new nickname for you.. you don't like it..?"

"no.. no. i'm okay with it." sae-byeok gave you a faltering smile. but you caught the flicker of uncertainty before it faded away.

..

january 21, 2019.

entry #15 —

i spent my lunch break with her today.

she stumbled into the café again in the late afternoon, the familiar chime of the door announcing her arrival.

i had her order memorized.

before she came in, it was already typed out on the register.

she opened up about herself, how she was struggling to pay her college tuition, all the while taking care of her sick mother.

and i might've opened up to her too..

i told her about cheol, mom.

somehow, in the quiet exchange of burdens, we found an understanding of each other.

and it made me.. glad?

whenever she'd nod her head, offering soft words of comfort.. i feel as if it’s like hearing your own heartbeat mirrored in another's, like a quiet confirmation that you're maybe, not alone in the world.

i thought i'd hate spending time with someone like her, but these past few weeks? they've been some of the best of my life.

was it because of her..? maybe.

screw it. i'm going to bed.

..

"i get it." sae-byeoks words shook your core, she was usually the listener in the conversation. but this time, she opened up. you the best you can and listened to her

"i.. im a north korean defector," she whispered. waiting for your reaction.

she braced herself. she expected you to laugh at her, or be scared of her, maybe say how miserable of a person she is, for anything that might confirm what she had always believed—that she was unworthy of kindness.

but no, you sat there. silently listening, you pursed your lips into a thin line, encouraging her to continue.

sae-byeok’s heart swelled.

"and i didnt defect alone.. my brother, cheol. he escaped with me. this past year i've been trying my hardest to earn and save up for money to pay for a broker for my mom. she's still in the north." she explained, she shifted in her seat. her eyes focused on the swishing of coffee in her porcelain mug.

"oh, sae-byeok. i'm so sorry. i didn't know you were going through all of that." your lips curled into a frown.

"you have me by your side, so.. if you need anything.. don't hesitate to call me. yeah?" you assured her sweetly.

sae-byeok's tough exterior melted away.

she looked up at you. a new expression found in her eyes. hope.

no one has ever been this gentle, this kind to her in her life. you were something to sae-byeok alright. that day she was sure of it.

your words held so much affection towards her and she felt full of love and care by you.

your words filled her with something she had rarely known—love.

but with love came fear.

getting close to you meant risking everything. What if she dragged you down with her?

she didn't want you to be with someone who's a criminal, a pickpocketer like herself.

she didn't want to disappoint to you. so she held back.

"little brother you say?"

sae-byeok nodded her head ever so gently.

"can i meet him?"

..

february 3, 2019.

entry #27 —

i'm taking her to meet my brother today.

as I mentioned before, she’s been coming to the café more often. my lunch breaks have become a quiet routine with her by my side, her books spread across the table, the soft scratch of her pen filling the silence between us.

spending 4 weeks of work with her.. it felt more natural and enjoyable.

even my co-workers ask about her, but i bitterly shrug them off like i usually do.

i guess they took notice the effect she had on me. how whenever she talks, i reply with a gentleness that is rare.

i said that i wouldn't want her to be close with someone like me,

but i think i don't care anymore.

not after what happened today.

..

"cheol-ah, this is my friend, (name)." sae-byeok introduced you to her little brother. she snaked her hand into the small of your back, gently pushing you towards the boy who was staring up at you.

"hi, cheol!" you greeted the boy. warmness in your voice.

cheol looked hesitant to answer, but he manage to squeak out a little 'hi' before running to sae-byeok's side.

"come on cheol don't be rude." sae-byeok pestered.

you were quick to think : "hey, i heard you liked coloring, cheol." you kneeled beside him reaching for your tote bag.

the boy nodded and peeked curiously at what you were scouring for in your bag.

you revealed a set of acrylic markers,all the colors of the rainbow, neatly arranged.

cheol's eyes brightened in excitement. "wow!"

"would you like to draw with me cheol?" you asked, voice full of hope.

"yeah!" cheol nodded, basically leaving sae-byeok's side to join yours. ugging you towards a low table scattered with drawing paper.

sae-byeok was surprised to see how open cheol was to you. she decided she would just observe from afar from today.

to sae-byeok, watching you and cheol together felt like witnessing a quiet, simple magic unfold.

the way you patiently guide his hands to draw shapes and doodles, the way you laughed at cheol's little jokes, your smiles mirroring each other, how you both share the same expression of seriousness while coloring in your finished sketches.

it was pure, unhurried—a bond forming over the simple joy of drawing.

it pulled on sae-byeok's heartstrings. the room felt warmer, softer, as the colors on the paper grew brighter. that day, she put on her most genuine smile ever, watching as the bond between you and cheol deepened.

and so does sae-byeok's love does for you.

..

february 6, 2019.

entry #29—

i did it.

i asked her out for dinner.

i can't believe i did it. i never thought i'd be after someone like her.

every day feels lighter knowing she might walk through the café doors at any moment.

that she’ll sit across from me, books spread out, coffee in hand, offering me fleeting glances that leave my heart a little less steady from the work stress.

i want to tell her that, but something is holding me back.

i asked her out to the diner just down the block, the one with the tall milkshakes and the warm glow of neon lights.

and she said yes.

i think i convulsed in my seat after her response because everything was a haze after that. my ears are still ringing.

i don't know why i feel like this. i'm not used to feeling affectionate towards somebody like i feel for her. it’s unfamiliar, uncharted territory.

someone help me figure this out.

..

"hey.." sae-byeok’s voice wavered, the crack in it betraying her nerves., earning a quiet giggle from you.

"yeah, sae?"

oh, she was doomed.

she ran her calloused hands through her hair, obviously nervous.

"would you like to have dinner with me? tomorrow? at haneul's diner down the street?"

"dinner?" you repeated with a toothy grin, "sae, i'd love to!"

let's just say she got off work all giddy that day.

..

february 7, 2019.

entry #30 —

today was amazing.

i know it sounds cheesy, but it was everything that i could've hoped and dreamed for.

i'm so infatuated and lovesick by her.

there i admit it.

dinner was great, she was very.. touchy, tonight.

i like it.

we took our first photo together at the 1,000 won photobooth outside the diner.

and i kissed her on the cheek.

for the photo obviously.

sjbkhdjklfjekjwldskjkjdfljk

..

"mmh, sae the burgers here are so good! how come you never told me about this place." you groaned into the smash burger, savoring the taste. "and it's cheap too!?"

"i guess i've been hiding it from you for this exact moment." she smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of her neck.

a blush crept up your face.

everything that came out of sae-byeok's mouth, it was special to you. even if it sometimes come out as ridiculous. she made you feel special, wanted.

you both sat back in the plush bright red sofa as you finished your meals, enjoying each others company.

"i like this.. we should do this more often." you suggested, discreetly twriling a strand of hair on your finger.

sae-byeok nodded, her second ever genuine smile made an appearance, "yeah, we should."

you averted your gaze to the outside world, it was a perfect night, quiet and comfortable.

that's when you spot a photobooth right across the street from the diner. your eyes lit up.

"hm? what's wrong?" sae-byeok place her head on her hands, following your gaze. her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the tiny, crammed photobooth.

"sae, let's do it." you took her hands rubbing your thumb gently on her knuckles as you try to persuade her. "pleaasee?"

she let out a soft sigh, but sae-byeok did not resist.

here you guys are, crammed into a tiny photobooth on a cold night. you perched on sae-byeok's lap, feeling the denim of her jeans scratch at your stockings.

"does this even work? you've been trying to figure the machine out for like what? 2 minutes?" sae-byeok squinted at the screen, unimpressed. not getting the schematics of the photobooth.

nervous energy buzzed through her. you could feel it in the way her leg bounced beneath you, the way her hands fidgeted against your sides. she was basically suffocating at the tight space.

"sae, c'mon stop it! i'm sure it does work.." you stuck your tongue out in concentration as you insert 1000 won into the money slot.

both of your bodies jolt up as you realized a countdown was starting.

"ooh, quick! pose!" you squealed. you pressed your temple against sae-byeok's and stuck your hands up in a peace sign.

sae-byeok was at a lost for words due to the close proximity, but she managed to hold up a similar, weaker version of your pose.

snap!

you tried to think of a new pose, before placing your peace sign behind sae-byeok's head into bunny ears and sticking your tongue out, her fluffy short hair tickling your hand as she looked at you in disbelief.

snap!

sae-byeok's eye softened at your playful expression. looking at how much you were enjoying taking photos with her.. you looked too cute for her tiny heart to handle!

a bold plan brewed in her mind

"ugh, what else.." you mumbled to yourself. deep in thought. as you try to remember what poses your friends would use in their cute instagram posts.

with a swift motion, sae-byeok cupped your cheek with her cold, left hand. and kissed your cheeks sweetly, squishing your faces together. just in time before the camera snaps. capturing your face in shock as she made an exaggerated 'smooch!' noise.

snap!

the ghost of sae-byeok's kiss lingered on your cheek. you brought your fingers up to your cheeks, still in disbelief.

"cat got your tongue, hm? c'mon pose for the last picture." sae-byeok teased casually, her eyes bore on you.

how could she say things like that without fully breaking down at the seams? you wondered.

you gave her a weak, tight-lipped smile before composing yourself.

you shifted in sae-byeok's lap turning your back towards the exit, you reached to cup her face in your warm hands.

sae-byeok melted at the touch, puffing out her cheeks while looking at you lovingly.

"cheese!" you cheered with a big grin on your face for the last picture.

..

you both stumbled out of the booth, hands still tingling, waiting in flustered silence for the photos to print.

the photos popped out of the machine, revealing two strips of black and white polaroids of you both.

"they're perfect!" you cried out, admiring the cute poses and faces you both shared.

"yeah, they are.." sae-byeok sighed, also admiring the photos, contentment washing over her.

first date with you? accomplished.

..

april 2, 2019.

entry #51—

i have been told all my life that love would never find its way to me,

and i've realized that it was a lie.

because love did find me in my lowest moment, in a form of an adorable kind-hearted psych major i once swore I couldn’t stand.

my days have been fuller —

full of her loving texts lighting up my phone in the morning,

my lunch breaks spent either visiting her campus or her visiting the café to talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

our little dates where we did everything that i wanted to do in my youth but didn't have the time for before.

she softened me in ways I didn’t think possible.

because of her, I started speaking easier, trusting a little more.

because she gave me the hope in humanity that was long gone as soon as i stepped into the real world.

she reminded me that maybe—just maybe—the world wasn’t all bad.

i even gave up pickpocketing for her after we had an argument about how it'd affect my future, how it made her upset. her eyes filled with heartbreak.

she cares about me, and i care for her.

her eyes, nose, lips, hair. all of her

she's the vitamin i had never known i needed. i crave to spend time with her each and every day.

today, i'm going to make her mine.

..

you stepped out of your lecture, exhausted. the weight of the world on your back.

you sighed at the outside world, you usually loved the rain. but today, of all days, did it really have to pour? and on the day you forgot your umbrella?

you sent a quick text to sae-byeok to let her know you've finished school for the day.

chamomile girl ♡ : sae! ^__^ just finished school! chamomile girl ♡ : i'm about to head home.. it's raining outside so i think i'll run to the nearest bus stop!! forgot my umbrella hehe~ chamomile girl ♡ : i'll visit you tonight at the cafe during nearing your closing hours so we could hang out more :3c

my pers♡nal barista : sounds great. :)

you smiled at your phone, tucking it away shortly after you received a text back as you made your way down flights of stairs of your faculty building.

you prepared your tote bag, taking it off to use it as protection from the rain. the soles of your platforms squelching on the now wet entrance of the building before you stopped in your tracks, a small gasp left your lips.

"sae..?"

the short-haired girl stood in front of you, a wide umbrella protecting her from the rain. she was still in her uniform, smiling at you.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but you stepped closer to her. both of you now sheltered under the umbrella.

"hi." she whispered just enough so you could hear it through the sound of trickling rain.

you giggled at her actions, poking at her sides. "hey you!.. what're you doing here?"

"to take you home, obviously." she shoved her left hand into her pockets. "i'm not going to let you get sick from the rain"

your heart exploded with immense love and gratitude. you wanted to say a million things. a million ways to tell her how much this meant, how much she meant.

"now come on, let's get you home." she ushered you to the exit of your campus. her hands wrapped around you.

safe. that's what you felt every time you were with sae-byeok. under sae-byeok’s care, the cold barely reached you.

you had such intense feelings towards the north-korean.

you couldn't keep it in any longer.

the two of you walked in step along the bridge, the city lights flickering in the distance, the rain creating a soft melody around you.

the bridge lead to a more secluded neighborhood, where your apartment was.

you sneaked glances at the tall girl from time to time but every time you'd look, she was already looking at you.

"hm? what's on your mind sae?"

she stopped abruptly, you were startled by this, stumbling into a halt. she took your recently manicured hands in her rough ones.

she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"i like you."

"huh?"

"no, i love you." she corrected herself, swallowing hard. "(y/n), i love you."

"with all my heart. i don't know where i realized that i love you, maybe in our quiet moments or in the middle of our dates full of laughter—but somewhere along the way, you became my favorite part of the day."

you stared at awe at her. is this real life?

"at first i didn't really take interest of you.. then after some time i felt as if it was simple admiration, but now i realized that deep down in my heart, i want to be with you."

the world stilled.

"sae.. i don't know what to say.."

she chuckled nervously, "you don't have to say anything.. i just need you to say yes or no."

your heart thumped harder in the walls of you chest, is this going where i think it is? you thought to yourself.

"can i be your girlfriend?" sae-byeok sputtered out, her body tensing up.

a matching pink flush crept onto both of your faces.

you took a moment to register the question, your ears rang before fusing with the sound of rain falling and hitting the ground.

"finally," you giggled. your laughter was light and it felt like a sweet relief to sae-byeok.

"yes, sae. i'd love you to be my girlfriend."

"r-really?" she stammered. "you do?"

you nodded, snorting all the while giggling at her child-like response.

in the midst of the sound of your voice echoing through the open bridge. you heard a loud sob coming from the tall girl towering in front of you.

your laughter faded as you looked up at her in shock. your eyes widened at the rare sight of sae-byeok crying.

"oh no, baby.. what's wrong?" you cooed, quickly shuffling to her side, you tiptoed and reached for her face, wiping away her tears.

sae-byeok threw her head back, as she tried to shake away her tears. "i..i'm sorry." she sniffled, "i'm just so glad you're my girlfriend now."

you stiffled a gasp at her confession, you chest ached. "aw you're so cute when you're all sappy!"

"shut up!" she whined, her low voice rumbling.

her grip on the umbrella faltered, overwhelmed by emotion. so she placed her head on the nook of your shoulders, leaning her full body weight onto you.

you stumbled at the change of position, quickly wrapping your hands around her torso, hugging her.

"thank you. thank you for giving a chance.." she whispered into your neck, making you shiver.

you weren't used to this vulnerable side of sae-byeok. you loved that you brought a new, better version of her.

without a word, you simply held her tighter, running soothing circles along her back, silently vowing to give her all the love she had ever been denied.

..

your hands slapped over your mouth, your whole body trembled violently, like a fragile leaf caught in a storm.

you could taste your salty tears run down your plump lips as your teeth chattered.

your heart was chipping apart piece by piece the more you read the journal. your fragile heart couldn't bear the weight of reality anymore.

your lover,

the one you thought you'd spend your whole life with.

gone.

and this was all that is left of her..

sae-byeok..

why did she have to leave..?

she was all you had ever since your mother passed away.

she was the only person you clung to in this cruel world.

now you had to face the rest of your life without her.

you decided to not continue reading. saving the remaining pages to lull to into sleep every night.

every day, you read one entry each night. reminiscing the past, daydreaming yourself into the story told on the parchment. whilst imagining the ghost of the love of your life, holding you tight as you cried between the pages.

you neared the end of the journal, until one day you reached..

the last entry from sae-byeok.

but it can't be? the book still had pages left on it, clean, unscathed.

and then you remembered.

oh..

you felt your bones crumbling, your eyes weakened at the date that was messily scratched unto the journal.

june 8, 2021.

entry #563

an entry from the day before she left your life forever.

june 8, 2021.

entry #563—

i don't know how i'm supposed to tell her.

i don't know how i'm supposed to tell her that a man in a ridiculous tight tuxedo went up to me offering money for a game of ddakji a few days ago as i left the station

she would laugh at my face.

she would also laugh at the fact that the man gave his business card, saying that if i called that number, i would be able to play games for money.

honestly it was an absurd claim. but i decided to test it.

they picked me up in the hush of night & drugged me.

i woke up in a sterile, windowless place—crowded with greasy, clueless, no-lifers. and among them, i saw a ghost from my past.

deok-su.

out of all the places i could find him in, it was in that sterile debt jungle.

I took a hard hit from fate that day, but I got up, because I had to.

i was here for her.

i was here for you.

i wanted to pay off all of your debts, college tuition, spoil you endlessly with a shower of gifts.

my debts was also part of the reason why i joined. but darling, nothing could beat seeing you smile.

the first game was red light, green light.

a game that decorated my childhood in the north.

i tried my best to stay calm and collected. but then the worse happened.

a blaring shot ran through and echoed the arena.

an obnoxious, loud, blonde haired man. shot dead. his blood spilling over the sandy ground.

that was the first time in my life i had ever felt true, raw, fear.

fear of leaving you behind in this cruel world without saying goodbye. fear of not being able to touch, hold, or kiss you anymore. fear of your hands reaching for me in the dark, only to find nothing.

deep inside i was instantly regretting my decision but i prayed hard.

i prayed so i could make it out alive.

and my prayers, they were answered.

they sent us home after hearing our protest, cries, pleading. how it was absurd to keep them in such a place like this. a bloodbath.

this morning, i get to come home into your arms again, i was able to throw myself into your arms, to feel the warmth of your body against mine, to hear your voice —even if it was yelling at me for three straight hours.

i didn't care. i just care that you were there.

but i was still unsatisfied.

i couldn't shake the memory of the first thing i saw as i barged into our shared apartment after coming home from the games this morning.

the love of my life,

you..

you were crying

you drowned yourself in tears before your debts did. i felt guilty not giving you the life that you deserve.

remember how the game master let us come home?

we were also given a chance to join back the games.

so i've decided that i'm going to win the games for you.

bring back a heart-stopping amount of money. to pay off your debts, give you everything the world has to offer.

with 45.6 billion won, i could build us a home. i could bring cheol into a life where he never has to go hungry again. i could see my mother again. i could create the small, quiet, beautiful family we always dreamed of.

but if I don’t make it back—

if you made it to this page and it finds you instead of me..

i need you to know that I’m sorry.

i’m sorry I was too weak to find another way.

i'm sorry i couldn't let go of my past, truly, my stubbornness never left.

i’m sorry for every night you’ll spend alone, wondering if I made the right choice, wondering if it was all your fault, which it wasn't.

i’m sorry that i won’t be there to kiss away your tears when you read this. i'm sorry that i won't be able to touch you anymore.

all i wish for you, my beloved is

to live.

live the life you've dreamt of.

you've always wanted to raise kids, so my last wish is for you to raise cheol for me.

i see how much you love him. how much you wished you could sing him lullabies, read him stories to sleep, have him by your side. so every time you look at him, you'd think of me.

marry someone who sees the good in you even in a sea of imperfect.

marry someone who would stay with you even if the whole world was against you.

who'd protect you, love you, cherish you like i did.

just please, don't forget about me.

but if i do make it back—if fate is kinder to me this time—

i’ll tell you all of this myself.

i pray my last moments are spent replaying all the memories i had with you. so i could die with a heart full of love and a smile on my face.

i love you lots and lots like jelly tots.

your personal barista,

kang sae-byeok.

ending notes : hope you guys enjoyed this! almost cried tbh.. should i make a pt.2 happy ending where she comes back but as a guard?

[svetamillss]

Hiii I’ve never really requested much on tumblr so I apologize if I’m doing it wrong

Do you think maybe you could do Hyun-Ju (120)’s surgery recovery and how things would be as we took care of her throughout the whole thing? Like how she’d respond to us taking care of everything for her while she heals? :3c

Headcanons: Your care for her during her transition to a girl💗

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

A/N: Thank you very much for such a cute order! I was glad to write a paper about my wife!

💗💗💗

💗I'll start with the fact that you have a joint budget and you also help Ju with money for operations, the girl was against it at first, because she hasn’t work a very well-paid job, so you spend much more money on her when you could buy something better for yourself. But you claim that everything is fine and the main thing is that your beloved girl is happy and all her dreams come true.

💗Your Ju takes a lot of hormone pills. The girl has a good memory, she never forgets to take everything on schedule, but you still wanted to help her. You studied the instructions for each medicine and manually wrote a schedule of what and when to take, and then hung it on the refrigerator. When Ju saw this, she was surprised and embarrassed. She liked the way you tried for her, despite the fact that she didn't need this help. That's why your girlfriend began to look at your list often, not because she forgets something, but because she wants to please you.

💗Sometimes a girl gets very sick after medication. You immediately tell her to lie in bed, brought her medicine for nausea and a basin so that she vomits there (just in case, she can't run to the toilet). You also take care of all her household chores. Ju tries to resist and says that you don't burden yourself too much, that she can do everything herself, despite feeling unwell. But you made her rest.

💗All the operations were very scary and frightening for her. She was afraid that something would happen wrong. She didn't want to go to hospitals alone: to all these consultations, receptions, operations. She was afraid of loneliness. That's why she embarrassedly asked you to go with her, at least sometimes, she understood that you had work and that you couldn't walk with her. But you said that you will take a day off and constantly go with her where she needs and support her. Ju was grateful to you and happy.

💗Ju's most important dream came true: she had a penis surgery and removed it. The operation lasted a long time and was very difficult. After which it was very difficult for the girl to walk and for several weeks she moved only out of necessity. You always helped her in everything. When time passed, another problem appeared: your girlfriend thought that her transformation was not perfect and you didn't like it, but you repeated the opposite. You constantly showered her with compliments and kissed every part of her body. You are perfect for each other.

💗💗💗

[lokidjarin-7567]

Can you write a fanfic (only if you're comfortable of course) pairing kang dae-ho x f!reader, during the lights out. Basically they've developed a really strong connection since the beggining, and she's sleeping next to him while he's looking out for others (ok he's just basically watching you sleep). But you shift your position while sleeping and he sees sh scars on your wrist, and folds your sleeves and he sees multiple cuts and scars. You wake up from the motions and you see him with teary eyes and then you start to cry a lot, like having a panic attack and he comforts you and it's just a lot of fluff basically. (the reason from your cuts can be because you're deeply depressed and you're coping that way since you're 15 but at 21 you still do it)

But, if you don't feel comfortable writing about sh can you please write one also during the light out when dae-ho is on the look out and the reader is trying to sleep, but she's so scared of what's going to happen that she starts crying, he notices it, she has a panic attack and he pulls her to his lap comforting her (again really fluffy).

I'm almost one year clean so I was craving this kind of comfort, thank you <3

Your wish is my command 🫡 (sorry so cheesy)

Creature Comforts

Kang Dae-ho x reader

CW: mentions of self harm, please please do not read if you’re not comfortable with this!!, fluff and comfort

So happy to get this request - my first one!! Please send any in if you have them, I love writing them <3 And please message me if you’re having thoughts about SH or struggling with it at all, my DMs are always open 🩷

Masterlist | AO3

She looked so peaceful when she slept. She was curled up on the mattress beside where he was keeping guard, her chest rising and falling with each breath. It was mesmerising. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, some straying into her face, strands lying delicately on her cheek. The lower half of her body was covered with a thin blanket, her top half cuddled into her jumper.

He had never seen her this calm. They had gotten close quickly in these games - the fear and horror acting as a catalyst for friendship - and he found himself getting protective over her fast. They’d first met after the first game, when Thanos and his lackey had approached her to join their little group, and he’d felt the inexplicable urge to tell him she was already spoken for. Surprisingly, she agreed with him quickly, saying she had already made her allies and hurried quickly away from that purple-haired joke. She thanked him wholeheartedly when they were out of earshot, confirming that there was something about him that made her uncomfortable so she appreciated being saved (her words, not his.) They had been inseparable since - sharing meals, sticking together in games, voting together, even bunking next to each other. When Gi-hun said that two people should always be keeping watch tonight, they didn’t even have to say they would take their shift together - it was just assumed.

But when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. She looked ethereal in the dim light of the room, her hair like a halo, the sound of her breathing a symphony to his ears. Soothing. He could watch her for hours, totally enthralled and at peace. His hand moved to brush a piece of hair from her face, feeling the softness of the lock between his fingers, fingertips lingering just a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek. So he just sat beside her. He wasn’t tired yet; he could take her shift. Anything to protect her really. A few extra hours can be the difference between life and death here.

The rise and fall of her body suddenly changed rhythm, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She rolled over in her sleep to face him, and he held his breath, scared that the smallest shift might wake her. She settled back in quickly though, and he watched with a soft smile as her arms fell beside her body, head snuggling into the pillow.

He wanted to wake up like this every morning, hearing her gentle sighs and soft snores, to see the peace on her face before she woke. He had only known her a few days, but it felt like a lifetime when they spent every minute fearing for their life. He felt so unbelievably protective of her so fast. He didn’t think she was incapable of handling herself - she’d proven the opposite through this ordeal. But he didn’t want her to have to worry about that ever again. As soon as they were out of there, he would do anything to make sure she wasn’t scared ever again.

Her hair had fallen across her face again, and in the dim light, he worked carefully to move it, tucking it gently behind her ear. Then he noticed her blankets falling down a little, pooling around her waist, so he pulled it up to her shoulders. Then the cuff of her jacket was slipping, so he gently grabbed the fabric, moving to fix her sleeve, when he noticed something. There were a few scars there, barely noticeable in the dim light of the room, so he allowed his curiosity and protective nature get the better of him. Ever so cautiously, he slipped her sleeve down just a little, just enough to see the scars that littered her forearms. Some were newer than others, others long since healed, but they were unmistakable.

His heart hurt for her. Life in these games was hard enough, but he could only imagine what awaited her outside to have to…

He wasn’t sure what to do. If he addressed it, he might lose her trust. She might get embarrassed that he knew and withdraw. If he didn’t, and she somehow worked out that he knew, she would think he didn’t care.

It wasn’t something he understood completely - a few of his friends from the military struggled with self-harm, but he didn’t tend to ask them too many questions. They had PTSD, so maybe she had that too? Or something else that was making her hurt badly enough to… all he really knew was that she didn’t have any healthy avenues to alleviate her stress and emotion. He wanted to help, to hold her and tell her everything would always be okay around him, that she shouldn’t ever hurt herself again… but he knew that was condescending and naive. What he really needed to do was let her talk to him if he wanted, listen, and if there was anyway she wanted him to help, he would…

His plans were foiled though, as she woke slowly, eyes blinking open. He was lost in thought, fingers still hooked around her cuff, and he was frozen as her eyes widened, locking on her arms and where his skin was against her. She started to back away, shuffling quickly as she adjusted, fear taking over her features.

“What’re you…” she muttered quietly, pulling her sleeves back to her hands as tears started to form in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out quickly, face turning red. “You turned over and I saw something so I was curious, I didn’t mean to wake you I… I’m so sorry.” She had pulled her knees to her chest, shaking slightly. “Hey, listen to me, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I…” he slowed down when he realised she was crying, her whole body heaving with deep, pained breaths, her hands fisting the blankets around her. He muttered her name quietly, but she didn’t respond, her legs falling down as her breathing got more and more erratic.

Oh God, he’d ruined everything.

***

It had happened so quickly. One minute you were asleep, the next, you opened your eyes to see Dae-ho beside you. At first, you were happy just to see him, his face and demeanour and everything about him a comfort to you throughout this game. Then you noticed the way he was looking at you. A mixture of pain and confusion and worry was contorted across his face, and then you saw where he was looking.

Your sleeve must had rolled in your sleep, and he was looking at your now bare wrist, his fingers softly brushing against it. You snatched her arm away quickly, fear clouding your mind as you shuffled back.

He had seen.

Oh God, I’ve ruined everything.

There was no questioning that fact. He knew. One of your deepest secrets, one of the things you were most ashamed of. And now, the person you trusted most in here knew. What would he think? Would he view you differently? As weak? As insane? As someone who didn’t deserve to be here around people who wanted to live more than you?

All you had ever wanted was to be seen as normal. And however awful this place was, you finally had that. You had found someone who viewed you as an equal, an ally even. You weren’t the unstable girl who cut herself, or the friend no one could rely on due to unpredictable bouts of depression or anxiety, or the shitty daughter who kept to herself. You were helpful, normal even. But now?

You hadn’t noticed your breathing start to shallow until it was too late. Your vision started to go fuzzy, mind screaming that you’d let someone too close, that they would never see you the same and it was all your fault. Again.

You heard him call your name, but it felt far away, like you were trapped in a bubble and everything outside was muffled. You were paralysed with an inexplicable terror, tears streaming down your face.

Unsurprisingly, given where you were, it wasn’t the first time you’d had a panic attack in front of him. They’d been pretty consistent, after every game, during some, but now, somehow this was the worst. For some reason, someone truly knowing you was scarier than the prospect of looming death.

It took a while for your vision to come back into focus, and when it did, all you could see was his face.

“Hey, look at me, breathe, ok? Here…” he carefully placed his hand on yours, and when you didn’t pull away, picked it up and held it to his chest. “Follow my breaths, ok? In….” You did your best to follow along, stuttering slightly, but he smiled ever so softly even if you weren’t doing it perfectly. “Good, and out..” He repeated the motion a few times, and you followed until your breathing was steady enough to talk. “There we go.” He muttered gently, a hand straying to your face to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

“I’m so sorry, Dae-ho…” it was all you could choke out, already close to tears again, but he shushed you quickly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s none of my business, but I need you to know that I would never judge you… not for anything. Especially not for something that isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is, I…”

“It’s not. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best and I’m here for you. As long as you know that, that’s all that matters.” You were crying again, his words a comfort you had never heard before. Not a moment after the first tear fell his arms were around you, pulling you tight to him and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t even speak to thank him, so you squeezed his arm instead, feeling him smile into the top of your head. You had never felt so much kindness before, so much understanding… and maybe it said something about the people around you, but you couldn’t think about that. Right now, all you could think about was the way he was holding you close, the way his breaths aligned with yours, and the way he made you feel like everything was actually going to be ok.

[seamany]

The Post that Solved it All for me, PART TWO

NOT MY POST, MOBILEBLACKSMITH2535 ON REDDIT*

What do I mean by this? Try this exercise with me. Think of your desired reality right now (bonus points for a first person perspective). You can even close your eyes and take a few seconds to think of it. You got it in your head? Now that you are in your desired reality think about the thoughts that you usually worry about when it comes to shifting (stuff like "it's not real" or "I can't do it" or "it's taking so long" etc). Thinking as your desired reality self now you are going to realize those thoughts are pointless because you shifted and you are in your desired reality. There you go, congratulations, you are in your dr. Every time you experience a feeling of helplessness or other negative feeling you are going to remind yourself that you have shifted already and creation is finished. Emotions do not matter and can never control you because they are physical sensations, a part of the 3d. The 3d that you don't care about anymore. You aren't going to ignore the 3d you just don't care about it anymore because you are in your desired reality. Why should you care? You already have your desire. You've shifted already and everytime you go to sleep you wake up in your dr, so why worry about whether this shifting attempt is going to be successful? Why even worry about the worry? Worrying is useless. You are not doing anything anymore except living peacefully knowing you are in your dr. You don't have to will away the emotions or thoughts. You don't have to do anything any more. It doesn't matter if you forget all of what I said in this post, and now you have gone back to panicking about nothing, because you are in your desired reality. You can breathe knowing that that doesn't matter anymore. No more worrying. No more heartache. No more anxiety. No more frustration. No more doubts. You won. You know what I'm saying. Say these things to yourself as much as you feel you need to, but fair warning learn from my mistake and don't look for proof of your manifestation in the 3d. Because you are in your desired reality, so why in the world would you see anything else? Whether or not you are using the law of assumption to get something you desire or not it is always taking affect and you can never stop manifesting. Unless that's your manifestation. But it's still a paradox because your manifesting no manifestation. Anyways that's it. This is what separated me from being desperate, obsessive, and discouraged to being a master shifter. Just remember that the law literally cannot fail you. If you are experiencing something it's BECAUSE you are accepting something NOT because the law does not work. It's as simple as that. Please ask questions, I want to help as much as I can. I know this is a long reply, but you can't give up when you've only just gotten started. If I can do it than you sure as hell can do it. And I know that doesn't mean anything to you most likely. But just trust me. :)

[siri-ike]

The spray was never supposed to last long. So when Tim came home and heard Dick say he'd sat there with "Bruce" for three full hours, he was concerned, to say the least. He can't still be in his fantasy. He can't still be this docile. Real Bruce wouldn't even be this docile, let alone "elementary school arson record" Bruce. But he just sat there. Staring at anyone who came into view.

His grip was tight, much tighter than he could pull off when he was high. And no way would Nightwing ever ask him to stop. He'd hold him forever if not for all their pesky human needs like eating and sleeping. Speaking of sleep, shouldn't he be getting tired? "Hey, Bruce?" Dick whispered so as not to disturb too much. "Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?"

Bruce shook his head. "I fell asleep, during Gray Ghost." His voice was calm and low (for a child), and he didn't even try to un-bury himself from his dad's hold.

This is big. He slept and didn't lose his memory. Dick waved Tim over.

"What?" Tim spoke at a normal volume.

"He didn't forget dinner." Dick kept whispering, but his excitement shined through. "He woke up at 4:43 pm yesterday, we had dinner at 9, afterward, he got to watch some Gray Ghost tapes and fell asleep. At 4:43 am he woke up again because Phantom was destabilizing as usual, but when Zatanna asked him what happened, he told her about dinner. He Remembered Dinner." Dick really emphasized the last part.

"That's great," Tim brought his tone down to match Dicks. "So then he's stable?"

"Stable? Dude, no. He's aging backwards."

"Oh, right. I forget people are supposed to get older." Tim said, fully serious. "I'll run some tests, and we should keep monitoring him."

"How about we run tests, and you go to your room and take some melatonin." Dick suggested. Let's see if he knows how aging works in the morning afternoon.

One hour later, at 9, Bruce was willing to eat. Dick hadn't left his side and could attest that he was calm non combative and ate like he hadn't seen food in a month. "Please don't be Stockholm syndrome, please don't be Stockholm syndrome," He repeated in his head. "It's too fast to be Stockholm, I can't let him leave. He thought he was dead a few hours ago. Wait, did he ever say he didn't?"

"Hey B? I, uh, Bruce?" He addresses the boy across the dining table.

"Yes, Father?"

Crap, crap, crap. Other age appropriate swears. Dick doesn't look anything like Thomas. If anything, he looks like Martha. No, wait, he looks like his own parents. Unless.

"Bruce, what is my name?" Nightwing fiddled with the mask in his hands.

Bruce just sat there, confused. Like he didn't expect him to have a name at all. "You're... you're, uh," He looked shamefully down at his food. "I don't know." His voice quivered.

"It's ok, Bruce. My name's Richard Grayson, Dick for short." He reassured. "Just one more question, alright?" He gave Bruce time to consider and nod. Nightwing put his arms down on the table and looked Bruce in the eyes. "Are you alive?"

"No~" his guilty expression instantly turned to utter glee.

Nightwing thought for a moment. "Are you dead?"

"No." He giggled.

"Then what are you?" So much for "one more question."

"I am not bound by life or death."

Dick didn't recognize the language, but it sounded otherworldly, almost like a mix of TRAP music and demonic incantations with a hint of backwards English. He also needed a minute.

"Alfred?" Dick asked head in his hands, slumped over in a chair in a corner of the kitchen. "I'm starting to think my son might be the devil."

"Master Dick, all parents think their children are devils from time to time. I certainly thought it with each of you, and look how you turned out... raising more hellspawn." He joked, kind of.

Dick couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I think we need to move up our meeting with Harley." He sat up, hands on his knees as if to brace himself. "Bring her here, rather than go to her."

"Isn't she in Arkham right now?"

Nightwing pulls out his phone. "I'll figure something out." He scrolls through his contacts and finds two Jim Gordans. He picks the one with the incognito picture.

"Commissioner Jim Gordon." Jim answers.

"Hi, this is Nightwing. Remember that boy, a month ago, who claimed to be a clone of Batman?"

"Yes, he showed up right before all of you dropped out of the world. Did he survive?"

"Yeah, he's... something. Look, I need Harley Quinn."

"Harley Quinn, the clown or Harley Quinn, the doctor?"

"The doctor."

"You know there are plenty of psychologists in Gotham."

"And none can handle these sorts of things without losing their minds, too."

-Silence-

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

*click*

"Why do you need a doctor?" Bruce had innocently popped in, probably to talk to Alfred.

"Hey, buddy." It was impressive, really. Not many people can sneak up on him, especially not so casually. "Harley's a friend of ours. She's just going to talk to you. Think you could do that for me?" Dick has raised more than enough titans to know you can't force kids that age to do anything.

"M-hm." Bruce turned toward Alfred. "I had water and sleep and darkness, but my head still hurts. Can I have something?"

"Oh, dear." Alfred put his hand on Bruce's forehead. "Well, your temperature is normal. Where does it hurt?"

"Here, and here." He he presses on his forehead, then to the sides of his head just above the ears.

"I'm gonna give you one more Ibuprofen, and we'll do some tests after that." Alfred put the medicine box back on its top cabinet shelf. "How does that sound?"

"Good," Bruce placed the pill in the back of his throat with his hands like he was auditioning for a horror movie, then he downed the water like a normal person. He was about to head out but stopped. "Alfred? Can I have candy?" He pointed at the fancy glass bowl full of chocolate covered salt caramels.

"Last I checked, sugar does not remedy headaches... you can have one." Alfred didn't even look at the puppy eyes. He is not willing to put up a fight for something so small.

Bruce delightfully lifted the lid and, careful not to touch more than one, picked out a treat. He likes the ones with blue marzipan.

Nightwing watched him leave the room without a care in the world. "I think you just got played."

"The headache is real. And I believe more than just swelling. He may no longer be throwing up and seizing. But he's been asleep for almost a month, only waking up for an hour or less, always at the same time. Then there's the more recent confusion in identity. Those are not psychological symptoms. They are neurological." Alfred gave his most serious "listen very closely, I'm not even going to buffer this with sarcasm" face.

"I'll schedule a brain scan."

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

[crsssie]

let's go gambling! - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Rossi, please?" You beg. "Reid's an incredible gambler. Also, I used to gamble in the military, so by technicality, I'm pretty good too. It's just 100k."

"I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump because of my card-counting ability." Spencer hums. "Also—"

"If you do the math, there's a way to guarantee when to raise and fold. P times N minus one where P is pot and N is number of players in the final round of betting. You can send us both in. Pass as a couple." You offer.

"Stop stealing my lines." Spencer pauses. "Pass as a couple?"

"Your fault for telling me all of this. I was hustling the hell out of my old friends last weekend. I won like, a hundred bucks." You give him a finger gun.

"Fine, fine. Try not to lose all of my money?" Rossi tries.

"Oh, David." You rest a hand on his shoulder. "I'm getting that million bucks whether or not they want me to. I'll pay you ten percent."

Rossi gives you a look that can only really mean that he doesn't quite believe you.

You play with Spencer. He's significantly better than you, and you learn how to count your cards in the meantime, watching him run through everything in his head, and grab his wrist when he reaches for the 8-ball charm, signal going off in your free hand as Hotch understands to move in.

"Sorry. He's got a bad habit of grabbing." You glance at the door, watching as Hotch moves in. The man stands up to run, but Spencer kicks from under the table as the man trips, and you try to grab him, but he's out the door before you can even grab anything.

"Can we keep Reid in there to keep gambling?" You raise a brow, staring at the chips on the table. "He's winning. I want the million."

"This is why we don't take you to Vegas." Hotch sighs. "We need you on sight. Your rifle's in the trunk..."

"Can we keep him there?"

Hotch sighs. "Reid, don't lose it all."

"Definitely won't."

"What do you say? A nice trip to Bora bora?" You wink on your way out.

"I always wanted to visit the British Library." He nods.

You shoot two bullets when you find the unsub. One to the clock to get it to stop turning, and a second to get the gun out of the unsub's hand last minute before he can count down. Hotch is on the unsub immediately, and you watch as he's dragged off, the clocks in the car covered and numbers missing from the plates.

You meet Spencer back in the hotel room, cheek pressed to his in greeting as he hums.

"So?"

"Rossi keeps his money."

"And?"

"Fifty thousand to the banks. They didn't catch me counting cards this time." He laughs when you gasp.

"What happened to the million?" You tug at your shirt, and Spencer hums as he helps you out of it.

"Didn't want to blow it."

"Fair." You stretch your arms. "So... London?"

"Savings."

You boo at Spencer, sighing. "And here I thought you were finally going to get me a nice little present."

"Oh, that wouldn't be here, honey." He hums. "Something nicer in DC."

"Like a house?"

"Not enough money for that."

"Fair point." You tap your chin. "Wouldn't a big diamond necklace look nice on me?"

"And where would you wear that?"

"Nowhere." You pinch his cheek, humming. "Just make sure you don't gamble it off when you think about it."

"Oh, I can't play poker anywhere." He laughs, forehead pressing to yours. "But don't worry. I'll be sure to get you something nice."

If anyone notices the new cufflinks on your jacket, no one says a thing.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu, how are you?

Could I request a fluff fic with reverse isekai and harbinger! scaramouche please :)

harbinger!scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. reverse isekai.

i know my fluff doesn't hit as well because i know that's not why you guys are really here, but, i enjoy writing fluff so 😊

scaramouche wasn't an idiot. once he'd discovered that the stars in teyvat were fake, he got to thinking. the idea of the stars had to come from somewhere else. the second he mysteriously arrived in your world, he sure got his answer.

your world's stars have to be the blueprint for teyvat's stars.

that wasn't the curious thing though. the curious thing was you. at first, you were just a means to an end. somewhere to stay until he adjusted to your world and then he would dip.

or so he thought.

he totally didn't expect this world to deal him a hand of cards in his favor. you sure are strange to him. you are well versed for some reason about where he has come from, so he didn't really have to explain anything to you.

once you got over the shock of him actually being here right in front of you, it didn't take him long for him to figure out that you are really, really in love with him. which stretched his ego in ways you couldn't possibly imagine.

so sue him if he used that to his advantage. it was sweet how often you dote on him.

needless to say, thanks to you, it was incredibly easy for him to adjust. your worlds mechanics are more similar to teyvat's than he thought.

as you would like to say, scaramouche was soaking up reality tv like a sponge. the overblown drama was the funniest thing in the world to him. and 95% of the time, these people did it to themselves. and he got to sit back and watch it all without even lifting a finger.

"i wish i could've taken you to a harbinger banquet. the drama that can be stirred up is just as good as this," he has probably what you would describe as a shit eating smirk on his face as he watched this woman cry about one guy she likes not returning her affection because she slept with his best friend.

scaramouche struggles to understand sentiment sometimes. this woman was waxing on about how she couldn't stop thinking about the guy she realizes she has more feelings for. about she even thought about him at night while she fell asleep. but she was losing sleep because she always was thinking about him.

"what is this shrew even talking about?" he scoffs, "she talks in a tone like all woman are like this. you either think about him while you fall asleep or you don't. how is she losing sleep thinking about him then?" he glances over at you, and immediately grits his teeth.

why did you have to look so cute right now?

you are having a delayed reaction of sorts. oh you heard every word he said, but you are still processing something he said before his rant. you had a soft, happy smile on your face while you fidget with your fingers. 'i can't believe he just said that to me. he said he wishes he could take me to a harbinger banquet. that would make it kind of like a date, right? should i bring it up later? or-'

"did you even hear a word i said?" scaramouche's voice cuts right through your pounding heart in your ears, and your racing thoughts.

"i think she is being truthful, at least in that respect," you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. things have been very hard for you lately to say the least.

you enjoy actually being able to dote on scaramouche in ways you thought you never would've been able to. he is a fictional character, this shouldn't be possible. but sometimes you can barely handle being in his presence. it really reminds you of how in love with him you really are. he just flusters you so much.

and it shows all over your face.

scaramouche's eyes widen for a moment. what was with you? you usually made fun of these people with him. but there was something about your voice that sounds different now. like you relate to what she said a lot. "oh?" he raises his eyebrow in indication for you to continue.

"mhm, i do think she is being truthful," boy, did you know what she was talking about. "i have lost so many hours of sleep thinking about you. what she meant by losing sleep is she tosses and turns in bed thinking some kind of activity will force her to stop thinking about him, but it doesn't work. she can only think about him while her tossing and turning keeps her from sleeping," once you start talking however, you can't seem to stop.

"i have lost so much sleep doing exactly that. there is not one girl, no scratch that. there not one person on this earth that doesn't have someone they lose sleep thinking about like that," you took a breath to steady yourself, very firm on standing your ground. any second you knew scaramouche was going to cut in so you have to quick.

"for god's sake, i barely sleep knowing you are in the room next to mine. especially when i know i would.." you trail off in a fit of shy. you can barely bring yourself to finish what you are saying.

that you knew you would sleep so much better if you could be curled up next to him.

scaramouche snorts, and taps his index finger on your lips. "i hear you up at night, you know," he teased, smirking as your eyes widen for a moment as the blush on your cheeks darkens.

"huh? you do? i tried to be as quiet as possible. the last thing i wanted to do was disturb you," how?! you worked so hard to stay quiet at night.

"it's not disturbing me. i just have extra sensitive hearing," you couldn't help but smile a little bit at his response. it was his bristly way of reassuring you. this is why you are so interesting. you just confessed to being in love with him without actually saying it. it feels strangely...nice to him when he has these moments with you.

"since you humans are fragile enough to need sleep, i will sleep in the same bed as you so that you can sleep. i am not opposed to it," he glares at you, daring you to protest.

"you aren't?" you reply with shy hesitation that he quite frankly found adorable.

"i don't like being in debt to people. so consider that as repaying my debt you," things would've been a lot harder for him without you. and it didn't even make sense to him that you stay in a separate room at night.

"you are such a man, scara. and i mean they in the best way," you reply, smiling at him. it startles scaramouche how much he has been anticipating your smiles lately. you usually look away shyly at moments like this. and he was glad you didn't.

oh please, go on. he knows how great he is.

"let's watch these people implode themselves more," he clears his throat and unpauses the tv. he didn't even realize he automatically did it when you started talking. he glances at you and sighs.

you seem unsure of what to do now. you kept giving him side glances, looking at him for some sort of guidance. he realizes he can genuinely get used to the feeling of you depending on him for once.

sighing, he put his arm around you, bringing your head to rest on his chest. he mimics breathing for you to relax

[pomefioredove]

I kinda wanted to be a little different with this one—

May I request a sugar cookie #5 with dried fruit and chestnuts please? Thank you very much!

this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written /positive I hope you guys enjoy

order #5, sugar with dry fruit, chestnuts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sickness and kisses

summary: kalim wants to be a part of everything- including your cold. what better way to share germs than getting close? tropes: sick fic, first kiss characters: kalim additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, a little gross

"It should have been me!"

Jamil winces and takes a step away from the bed. You hold out a hand to him, as if to say "take me with you."

"Kalim, they're not dying. It's nothing but a cold,"

The boy peels himself off bed at your feet, which he's been attached to all afternoon.

"You don't get it, Jamil! They're going to miss my birthday party- the desserts, the music, the games! Who knows if the Prefect will be here for my birthday next year!"

"Kalim," you pat his head to comfort him, though, if anyone needs comfort, it's you. "I'll be fine. We can have another party when I'm better."

He sighs, leaning into your touch. "It's not the same..."

Jamil looks more sick than you now.

"Ahem. I've brought soup and tea, and there are extra blankets in the foyer. Kalim, we should be going,"

Kalim pouts and clings to your blankets. "Just a moment..."

"I'll be waiting outside,"

Jamil doesn't need to be excused twice, leaving the room and closing the door on his way out.

Kalim sighs. "I just hate when my friends are sick... I wish there was a way I could share some of your pain,"

"That's nice, but you don't have to- ack," you cough into your fist.

Kalim's sympathetic pat would be comforting, if not for that look. You can tell he's thinking something.

He waits for you to finish hacking and coughing, at least. Then:

"I have an idea," he says. "You can get me sick. That way, we can still spend my birthday together, and you won't be alone!"

Thinking something, alright. You're surprised Jamil couldn't feel that on his "Kalim's bad ideas" radar and come running before anything more happened.

"I appreciate that, Kalim, but this kinda sucks," you smile. "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

He smiles back and sits beside you on the bed, closer now.

"But you and Jamil said it's just a cold! I've been poisoned, you know- I think I could handle it!"

You blink. "Well... yeah, but it's still sucky,"

"But we'll be together!" he insists. "Now, how should we do this? I've never gotten sick on purpose before, so I don't- oh, I know!"

"Huh?"

He comes a little closer, leaning over you. "I'll kiss you!"

Your eyes widen, and again, you're surprised Jamil didn't feel that and burst through the door like the room was on fire.

"Like... seriously?"

"Why not? It's the fastest way. But I could figure something else out if you don't want to," he eyes your hands. "Maybe you could-"

"Alright! I concede! Just... one kiss,"

Kalim beams. "One is all I need!"

With no further warning, questioning, or thought, he dips in and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips. It doesn't last for more than a second, but it still leaves you a little flustered.

He hums, licks his lips, and then hops off the bed. "Thanks, Prefect! I'll be back in no time, don't worry!"

He leaves the door open behind him. You're honestly the last person he should worry about, now.

You wonder, for a moment, what he was thinking- Kalim is ditzy, not dense. He had to have known what he was...

Your eyes widen as you remember something else. Oh, crap.

If this works, Jamil is going to kill you.

[headedstraightforfrankcastle]

Random Vi headcanons

Plot: none, just random thoughts about Vi as your pretty little girlfriend <3

Disclaimer: both SFW and NSFW, not revised (please tell me if there's any mistake so I can fix it), mention of food

A/N: besties, I didn't forget about the smut! It just coming together pretty slowly because I'm working on an exam and all my strenght goes there. But it's coming, so stay tuned 👀

-

SFW:

Vi who always has a little smirk on her face because of the scar in her upper lip - her mouth is costantly slightly ajar and it makes her look as is in an endless state of are, mostly when she's looking at you

Vi who holds your hand as if it were the last safe anchor in a sea full of monsters

Vi who tries to cook for you when you don't feel like doing it by yourself, but she insists you absolutely cannot skip even one single meal

Vi who clearly makes a mess, filling the sink with dirty pots and utensils, struggling to keep up with something harder that a grilled cheese, but who keeps trying and ends up cooking a not-so-bad-but-very-personal version of your favourite dishes

Vi who later gives you the biggest puppy eyes while watching you eat, waiting fo you to tell her if she did good (you end up telling her she did even if it's a lie, because the effort that woman puts in everything she does for you is worth eating even dirt if she put it in a soup for you)

Vi who actually likes cooking with you as you teach her tips and tricks, because the way you do it without being patronising makes her feel important

Vi who insists on watching horror movies with you thinking she's good at hiding the dread

"It's just a movie, babe, no need to get scared", but she's actually the one taking her gaze of the TV when scary stuff happens. It always ends up with her snuggling in your arms saying it is for your comfort (you both know it's a lie)

Vi who loves to absentmindedly play with your hair and who's head over heels when you dye a lock of her same pink

Vi who is so messy in basically everything she does except handling you

Vi who sings in the shower thinking you can't hear her, not knowing you're actually sitting outside the door listening to her

Vi who would teach you some self-defence and love seeing you becoming stronger everyday, but will still be your scary dog privilege

Vi whose first reason to teach you how to fight is to admire you in your workout gear because your body and the way it moves is art to her - but seeing you so powerful when you hit the punching bag and knowing you can do it to whoever tries to hurt you is second place on the list

Vi who always shares drinks with you, so she's sure not to exaggerate with the alcohol and gets to have a constant contact with you at the same time

Vi who doesn't mind getting into little fights because she knows that when she comes home you'll fuss over her like a madman; it always ends up with you doing your best to mend her wounds while sitting on her lap, and she loves it

Vi who can seem like the toughest, meanest, harshest person to the rest of the world - but who, you know, has the biggest heart who she only shows to those she loves, especially you

Vi who is the best of both worlds, both strong and vulnerable, and who melts when you call her your wonder

NSFW:

Vi who likes your marks a little too much: your bites on her thighs and neck, the hickeys you leave both in places where everyone can see then and in hidded spots only she knows about (these are her favourites), the stinging red lines and half-moons of your nails digging onto her skin... the memories of you on her alter her brain chemistry in a way she cannot even describe

Vi who's a massive switch, but who's always at your service, mostly when she's fucking you dumb, be it with her fingers, her tongue or her strap

Vi who was sceptical about taking the strap from you at first, but later realizes how much she loves being at your mercy

Vi who loves making love (she stopped "having sex" with you a long time ago) while listening to a playlist you made with her and your favourite songs, humming the little tunes while she kisses you neck or eat you out, making you crazy

Vi who has you sitting naked on her knees and spends hours worship your body: caresses, kissing, the tip of her fingers tracing your curves, did I mention that you are her favorite work of art?

Vi who is super sensitive, way more than you, and loves taking her time with you before you take your time with her, so you can both finish together, her core rubbing against your until your screams of pleasure mix with hers

Vi who memorizes all your limits and knows you more than you know youreslf, but establishes a safe word anyway, just to be sure

Vi who never runs out of things she wants to do to you and who loves discovering all the nasty little things you want to do to her

Vi, with whom everytime feels like the first time, but who also is the most familiar habit

That's all besties! Hope you liked these little ideas, thank you for reading and have an amazing day <3

[alkalineapparition]

Jaws

Simon Ghost Riley x Hybrid!Reader|Full Chapter

Part 12– Basking in the solace of regret

"RIPPER, NO!"

This is the moment that will stay with Simon for the rest of his life. Someday, when he's watching his mistakes play in frantic strokes of color on the canvas of his eyelids, this is what will haunt him most.

You, for all your ferocity, gift him one last look. Soft, apologetic. No intention of heeding his command. When he reaches for the handle on the back of your vest, you slip through his fingers like water. Gone.

Just. Like. That.

You'd both been pinned for a while now. The others were farther behind, providing rear security so you could retrieve what they came for. They hadn't known, couldn't see past the smoke clouding your positions. And he hadn't had the time to tell them, between returning fire and holding position, before a close call shot his comms to shit. He hadn't had the time...

He should have made the time.

And now there would never be more time. The clock had stuck twelve, the hour glass run out of sand.

Because you had decided your life mattered less than his. Mattered less than the mission. Goddammit.

He no can no longer see you, he's lost sight and all he can think is how he'd rather become dust and smoke himself than come home without you.

Leaning back against the small outcrop of rocks you'd been taking cover behind, his eyes close. Then, he does something he hasn't done since he was a child.

He prays.

He prays to the bastard that's never bothered giving an answer before. Teeth gritting down to the nub, he wills the asshole to hear him.

Bring her back to me.

In this moment, Ghost hates himself. He's never been more useless—he can't just charge in after you, the lack of vision would make it suicide. Perhaps you'd been able to see what he couldn't. But then why did you go alone, if not to save him from whatever it is you saw? If he got up and charged after you now, would he find you grinning in triumph, or be faced with a wall of enemy soldiers riddling his body with bullets?

Some fucking leuitenant, huh?

As if he could summon you by mere thought, his mind drifts, one final goodbye.

—

You stand before him, head cocked, mouth curled in mischief. His skullplate sits on the desk after having gone missing for a few days (during which you swear you haven't seen it, of course not Lt!), now doodled with little pink ghosts. "Y' little shit." His hand snaps foward to snatch your collar, but you duck, snickering as you make for the door. [It washes off Lt! No, please! Uncle, uncle!]

—

[Ghost.]

"Hm?"

[Why do you wear the mask?]

He looks up, watching your face as you gnaw your lip. His tug up in a smirk. "To hide my face."

[Are you ugly?] The bluntness of your question almost makes him laugh. [It's alright if you are.] Sweet girl.

"Quite the opposite, love."

Something in his stomach flips at the sight of your face going red.

[Oh.]

He can't resist. "No' as pretty as yours, mind you."

You sputter as expected, and he does laugh.

[What do you look like?]

He pretends to think it over.

"Got a tattoo of the queens arse on m' left cheek," he says solemnly.

You choke, eyeing him and his inked arms speculatively before deciding he's full of shit.

He lets you believe what you will.

—

The dove-grey light of Sunday mornings filters through the blinds. Your eyes are filled with tears, body trembling with the force of your sobs. Simon wraps his arms around you, cheek pressed to your hair.

[I don't even have a name. I am nothing, it's like I don't exist.] He closes his eyes, searching for the words that will soothe this ache.

"Your name's Ripper. Ya ain't nothin', either. You're our best girl." It's the best he can do, offer placations, even if they are true. He hates that he can't do more.

[That's a not a name, Ghost, it's a callsign! I don't... I don't even know what my mother named me.] You're still for a few moments. [I... don't know if I have a mother.]  Simon rattles his brain for a way to make this right, something that can be a salve to your pain.

"How about... I give ya a real name? Somethin' other than what that bloody scot came up with." He doesn't think this will be enough, it's a stupid idea–

[What... would you name me?] Your eyes are on him, curiosity shining through the tears. Seems it was enough to distract you, for now atleast.

Humming, he contemplates. "I'll find somethin' that fits. Wait for inspiration an' all that."

[How will you know it's right?]

"I'll know, Rips. Promise."

—

Simon never did pick out that name.

He wonders what they'll put on your headstone.

[writingdevil]

hi!! :3 ouh for the writing request, if you dont mind, how about smitten and opportunist? i like them as a ship but you can do them platonically too if you prefer 👍👍

(I think they'd be such a good ship!The one who manipulates and lies meets the world's most unabashedly passionate and loving person in the world!I think Opportunist wouldn't be able to help but fall for Smitten's words of love, and that Smitten would find Opportunist's attempts to charm and suck up to him adorable!Anyways, enjoy!)

"How do I look?"

"Absolutely beautiful, if I do say so myself."

Opportunist smiled at the way Smitten's feathers puffed up under his praise.Smitten had been complaining about the state of his feathers, and Opportunist had so graciously offered to preen him, and Smitten had been nothing but grateful.

They were currently sitting on Smitten's bed, and Opportunist's eyes were taking in every inch of the room-not that it was very shocking or useful.

Smitten kept his room at a really weird halfway point between messy and clean.He had handwritten poems and emotional letters strewn all around his desk and windowsill, but the entire area around his bed was spotless, not a stray feather to be seen. It was as if Smitten was trying to look as put together and as perfect as he felt was needed, but his passions and intense bursts of love spilled out into his room. It looked like he was trying to impress someone, but that someone was also making Smitten express himself in the most chaotic way possible.

Opportunist didn't mind it, really.It was nice to be allowed to peer inside the private rooms of his flockmates-most of the others didn't trust him inside their bedrooms, but Opportunist thought they were being overly cautious.He wasn't going to back stab them or anything-just look at him and Smitten!He's been preening his wings for half an hour, and Smitten didn't have a hole in his back yet. He'd say that was all the evidence the others needed.

Smitten hummed lowly as Opportunist straightened a feather that was awkwardly poking out, and the sound made a low heat form in his chest.He wondered if Smitten would keep making sounds like that if he showed him how good at preening Opportunist was.

Opportunist wasn't sure why he even offered to preen Smitten, besides the fact that Smitten was incredibly kind and was never mean or distrusting to Opportunist once.It was just-nice to not have to work so hard to please others.Smitten was so easy to convince that Opportunist was genuinely sweet and innocent, so he never had to perform that much for him.In a weird way, this was the closest thing Opportunist could call a break for himself, to not use one of his many masks so much, even if he was still wearing one.

Smitten just made everything feel lighter-not as important, and Opportunist really liked that.

Opportunist smiled, leaning back to inspect his handiwork."All done!"he announced, and Smitten straightened up, glancing over his shoulder to try and look down at his wings."Really?Oh, thank you Oppy, you are a darling.You took such good care of my precious wings-what a sweetheart you are."

Those words went straight to Opportunist's head, covering his mind with a blanket of warmth he doesn't usually feel.He ducked his head and smiled softly, hoping Smitten didn't notice how his words were affecting him.It wasn't often that Opportunist got complimented, much less for something that he was doing honestly.

Smitten looked over his shoulder, and Opportunist was quick to replace his soft smile for a confident one."May I repay you for your kindness by preening your wings?"

Instinctively, Opportunist's wings tensed up and pressed up against his back.He tried to keep the panic and anxiety out of his voice as he chuckled and said,"Oh, you don't have to do that for me, Smitten."

But Smitten's voice was firm and determined as he responded with,"Yes, but you were kind enough to take some time out of your day to care for me.I'd like to return the favour."

Opportunist shook his head, going,"No need!It's what flockmates are for.Besides, my wings don't need to be preened."Opportunist spread out one wing for Smitten to see, showing the perfect condition they were in.

Opportunist would never let anybody preen his wings.It required too much trust and vulnerability on his part, to turn away from someone and show his back to them.Opportunist wasn't about to put himself in a position where all his feathers could be ripped out in a matter of moments.That's why he made sure to preen them every night by himself in the comfort and safety of his own room.

He felt Smitten slump in defeat as he looked at Opportunist's wings, and said,"They do look lovely right now.You clearly have a talent for taking care of things."

Despite how incorrect Smitten was, Opportunist still flushed at the compliment, quickly folding his wings behind his back so that Smitten didn't see how much his words affected him.

He knew that he needed to leave and compose himself, but Smitten unexpectedly sighed dramatically and leaned back against Opportunist's chest, putting all his weight against him and trapping him to the spot.

Opportunist froze, hands awkwardly hovering in the air, the feeling of Smitten pressed against him making his head spin.Had anyone ever casually leaned against him before?He knows Contrarian does it to anyone near him, but Opportunist wasn't sure if he's ever been a victim of it.

"U-Um-Smitten?Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine,"he replied calmly, lifting a hand in the air to gracefully wave Opportunist's concerns away, "I just wanted to rest with you.Is that alright?"

Was it?"I-I-I guess so."Opportunist was mentally kicking himself for stuttering like that.This was Smitten-there wasn't any way that this fanciful bird was a threat to him.He needed to calm down.

Smitten tilted his head back to meet his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he studied him for a few seconds, and Opportunist tried extremely hard to look as composed and as confident as he usually does.After a few seconds, Smitten hummed in that way he liked and said,"You are very handsome.Did you know that?"

Out went his composure.

"Excuse me?"he squeaked out, feeling his entire face heating up in a way that he knew he couldn't hide-and don't even get him started on his feathers!

He gulped, and laughed lightly, hoping to distract himself from the thumping of his heart.He looked away as he casually said,"What are you talking about?Smitten, you're the prettiest bird in this land. In fact, if you ask me, I think you're the real attraction of this flock by a long shot."He laughed again, hoping to get rid of these damn butterflies in his stomach.

Smitten just continued to silently gaze up at him for a few seconds, before Opportunist saw the moment that Smitten's eyes darkened.

He couldn't explain it-other than it looked like Smitten's face went from soft to sharp in an instant. The usual light twinkle in his eyes were replaced with a hungry and predatory glint that honestly scared Opportunist.

Smitten's voice was low and husky as he said,"You think I don't know the truth about you?"

"What?"Opportunist whispered, all confidence and bravado being ripped away at that voice, and all he could do was helplessly stare as Smitten straightened up to his full height, taller than Opportunist by a few inches.He still stared down at him over his shoulder as he said,"You think I can't feel your heart pounding against my back?"

Before Opportunist had even a chance to try and think about how to take control of this situation, Smitten suddenly twisted around and pushed Opportunist down on the bed, pinning his wrist above his head.

"Hey!Smitten,what's gotten into you?"he fearfully asked, the intensity of Smitten's gaze sending a shiver up his spine, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Smitten's smile was somehow still as charming as ever, as he leaned down closer to Opportunist to lowly say,"You can't hide your feelings from me.I know love when I see it, and I know exactly how people react to the things they love."

He leaned in closer, tilting his head slightly as he studied Opportunist, and said in a curious manner, "You, for example, simply love it when people give you attention.When we compliment you or touch you or even look at you for a certain amount of time, I can see the desire for more in your eyes. That's something you can never hide from me."

Opportunist had no idea who he was talking to anymore.This couldn't be Smitten, could it?No, Smitten was the one who loudly declared how he was feeling no matter how early it was.Smitten was the one who insisted on speaking and spending time with everyone almost every day.Smitten was soft and non-threatening, which was why he was always Opportunist's go to bird to speak to.

But was it actually because he liked it when Smitten touched him and complimented him?It was nice to be around Smitten, but he thought that it was because it was easy to be around him.

Smitten chuckled in amusement, moving to be inches away from Opportunist's lips."What a cute little devil you are,"he whispered, before crashing his lips against his.

Opportunist gasped at the intensity of Smitten as they kissed, his mind spinning with nothing but pleasure and a need to keep chasing it-and when Smitten invaded his mouth with his tongue, Opportunist moaned.

It was only made worse when Smitten kept sprinkling in sweet words in-between the kissing. Words such as-'So pretty', 'Gorgeous', and 'Good Oppy.'It erased any mask and performance from Opportunist's mind and left him falling apart, letting a sliver of truth come out-that Opportunist longed to feel like this, to feel wanted and adored for who he was.

They broke apart, panting while still pressing their bodies impossibly closer to each other.Smitten's eyes flicked off to the side for a split second, before he moved his hands up to intertwine them with Opportunist's, and his smile looked dashing and wicked at the same time as he said,"It looks like your wings need to be preened after all."

Opportunist gulped.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

TW: DEPRESSION, SUICIDE ATTEMPT. If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts or tendencies, please seek help and support from a mental health professional.

This story is written from the perspective of a biased omniscient narrator, keep this in mind as you read and don't take everything they say as absolute truth.

Please proceed with caution and consider your personal comfort and wellbeing before continuing.

SUICIDE HOTLINE.

I want to die.

The distant echoes of departing trains continue to linger in the air, reaching your ears even as you ascend the steps to the sidewalk of the old, dour London city. Gray clouds loom low in the sky, but occasional wisps of warm sunlight manage to slip through the overcast, illuminating patches of England's capital city.

And yet, when it comes your turn to cross beneath it—the last remnants of that golden hue—you feel nothing. The sun is gone, leaving you alone with yourself.

I want to die. You want to die, yet the way you stride leaves an impression that there remains a purpose to your existence—a reason to stay alive. Looking up, you see the neoclassical architectural building that you have long been familiar with. You push the large heavy doors to enter the Metropolitan Opera building.

The dim hallway of the opera house washes you over with old nostalgia. It reminds you of those early days, when you were just a wide-eyed girl fresh from San Francisco, full of newly lit aspirations. Determined to prove to herself that she wasn't what that old voice had always told her she was.

In the past, everything felt so gray—the streets, the buildings, even the sky above. But now, looking back, you realize you may have taken that time for granted. Compared to the supposedly better present, the past now appears in hues of bronze, still working towards perfection. Not yet gold—you haven’t gotten what you want, but you never lose sight of your stage, of your dance. Ballet remains both your agony and your solace.

But now, the world has been washed in muted colors, worse than gray. Ballet has shockingly intertwined with this foreign concept—distant, irrevocably severed.

Reality has transformed into an almost dreamlike quality, trapping you in the haze of your own creation. Yet, like a phantom that knows not when to end, you carry your feet toward the dressing room reserved for the prima ballerina. The door loomed before you; your hand reached for the handle, turned it, and pushed with a creak on its hinges.

(Was it ballet that had become nothing to you, or was it you who had become nothing to ballet?)

Your eyes immediately landed on the figure sitting in front of the vanity. Claudine, the woman who had taken your place as the Swan Queen, perched in the chair that should have been yours. Her eyes widen as she caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, but her surprise was short-lived as a smirk slowly spread across her red lips.

Claudine turns her body to face you. “Well, well, look who it is. Did you forget your way to the bathroom, darling?”

Much different from the last time you saw her, she looks radiantly happy. She adjusts her seat, making herself comfortable on the cushion of a chair that clearly does not belong to her. But that doesn’t mean it’s yours, does it? Sure, Claudine wasn’t the first choice—but the director still chose her to replace you. It was glaringly obvious that the role of the Swan Queen was no longer yours; you were simply the wrong choice, a mistake.

Tomorrow’s Swan Lake performance will be starring Claudine. Not you. Last week, you were still able to gloat and say that nothing would happen, and yet, something did—you blew your performance, delivered a shitshow, and the director launched into a long, angry sentence before discarding you. Sending you home.

(“You need to go home.” in a voice that doesn't belong to the director.)

Suddenly, the door opens wider; you see the director standing in the doorway. “Claudine, we need to—“ he begins, but his words trail off as his gaze meets yours.

A look of surprise flashed across his face as he took your presence. You could only imagine how unexpected your sudden appearance must have seemed to him—a ghost materializing after days of radio silence. He furrowed his brows, glancing at Claudine as if silently asking if she's seeing this too. Turning back to you, you felt the intensity of his eyes as he scanned you from head to toe.

Henri calls your name, then asks, “Are you alright?”

For a moment, you hesitate. “The world is covered in a gray haze” is the only description you can come up with—the only way to tell them, but you wonder if they will even understand what you mean. Maybe the issue lies in your own eyesight, tinting everything so dull and lifeless. Soulless. “The world is speaking a language I no longer have the strength to comprehend,” you want to scream it from the rooftops. Everything is moving on and leaving me behind, and I don’t know why.

“Are you alright?”

Such an easy question, yet so hard to answer. You're certain that nothing is alright, but you're not hurting as much as you were that night in that unfamiliar city, are you? No more hyperventilating, no more shortness of breath. Objectively speaking, you seem fine. And yet, you're not sure you can carry on if the future will continue to feel this way.

So instead, you simply nodded, eyes empty but staring back at him as you utter the words, “I’m fine. I was just about to leave.”

You didn’t wait for a response, turning around the way you came and walking back down the long hallway. Yet, the hallway seemed strangely altered, as if it had undergone some sort of magical transformation while you were inside the prima ballerina’s dressing room. The dim corridor was almost deformed to the point where you couldn't recognize it. Or perhaps the world was perfect, and it was your own sight that had become deformed.

Looking around, you wonder if it was all real—if the walls were as solid as they seemed; if the golden rays of sun were genuine, or if they were mere props in a stage production. Do you even exist? Or are you just a microorganism barely clinging to life and yearning to be something you're not? The exit seemed far away, and something begged you on its knees for you to stop, for you to turn back.

There is no turning back for you. You are deformed—you are lost in a place that no longer wants to recognize you. Where do you turn back? How do you turn back? The answers you demand are nil, and you… return to resignation, to surrender. There is no turning back for you.

London never really rests, even when the evening wears on with uncertain weather. The hesitant sunlight casts a slanting gaze on the upper half of a three-story building. While the middle section to the top is constructed from a rugged red-hued brick, the ground floor was painted in a bolder crimson, with old-style serif fonts for the name of the establishment. It's a flower shop. A couple exits, the woman smiling graciously at her lover while holding onto his hand, cradling a bouquet of freshly cut blossoms.

Walking opposite you is a family of four, laughing as they enjoy their stroll. You turn to see a career-driven woman striding purposefully, probably to meet her next client.

Everyone had a purpose, a direction, a sense of belonging. And standing amidst this bustling city, you felt alien, empty—a specter, a ghost among the living, treading this path simply because it’s the only one you knew, but it seemed to have no end in sight. It felt like you had lost something, everything. Your infinitesimal place in this world is now entirely erased.

(Who are you?)

Your life is yours to live, but you are not its main character. Everywhere you tread, you carry the setting sun; the colors fade in your presence. Doom creeps closer, dripping and seeping into your nailbeds—unfortunately, you have a habit of biting them. Now it is in your blood, pumped through your body, settling in your organs and muscles.

Who are you?

Nobody's daughter, nobody's lover. No longer a prima-ballerina.

As you descend the stairs that lead down to the subway, the sound of the departing train echoes through the station. You stand in the spot you’ve occupied countless times before—the safe line where other passengers wait for the next train. Taking a deep breath, your heart throbs painfully as the acrid scent of cigarette smoke enters your lungs. You turn to see a man leaning against the wall, his lips wrapped around the glowing embers.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memory that the smell reminded you of. Looking for a distraction, your gaze fell upon the yellow line that served as the boundaries where you should stand. It was a simple thing, but it carried a clear meaning—don't get too close to the edge of the platform; back away or find your doom.

However, from your dull vision, the vibrant hue had faded, leaving behind a lifeless grey that blended effortlessly with the rest of the platform. Another line meant nothing. You lifted your gaze and landed it on the train tracks.

The steel of the rails glints in the dim light. Just one step, one final fall, and it would all be over. No more empty apartments to face, no more tiring tomorrows. A funeral won't be necessary because by the time you're gone, there will be no part of you left in this world.

A cough sounds from behind you, breaking through your loud thoughts. Turning, you see a woman probably in her thirties in a bright floral dress. Averting your eyes to another source of voices, your gaze lands on a man and a girl next to him—a father and daughter. You end up glancing around at the people around you, all waiting patiently for the next train to take them to their next stop or home.

How would they react to such a spectacle?

The image of their horrified faces, their clothes stained with the crimson of your blood. And what about the train engineer? They would be the first and the last to look you in the eye, to witness your final moments before your demise. The ending you obtain will linger as a scar you leave on them—an impact that will stay, haunting them for weeks, perhaps even months or years to come.

And you…

You couldn't do that to them.

The second consideration is too late when the train squeals through the tunnel, signaling its arrival. The train has arrived; you are hyper-aware of your standing right behind the yellow line. A stream of people begins to board the tube, and so do you. Taking a seat, the window across from you serves as an uncomfortable mirror forced up against you. You avert your eyes from it, not wanting to face your own faint reflection.

As the robotic voice of the tube's announcement echoed through the carriage, urging the passengers to “step clear of the doors,” the father and daughter took their seats across from you. The little girl, no more than five or six years old, straightens her gaze to meet yours.

There, you find your younger self. To her, you are just a weird grown-up with tired eyes, but to you, she is that little girl you once were. The bright-eyed girl with simple dreams—to eat ice cream with Daddy, to coax Mommy for a furry friend, to be the brightest star for her parents. To be the greatest ballet dancer the world has ever seen.

The girl who loves blue so much, but Mom forces pink on her. You remember your childhood photo framed in the closet back home before you left San Francisco for good—a photo of you and Mom at your first ballet recital.

“My little princess, you’re going to be the greatest ballet dancer the world has ever seen.”

And yet, hours later, submerged in the warm water that should have melted your tension away and untied the knots within, reality proved otherwise. Those dreams, once so vivid, are now gone—abandoned, for your heart has shrunk in size as you've grown. The bright-eyed girl was no more—so was Daddy, so was Mommy. Ballet, too, dismantled in your own hands. Your identity is destroyed and-

And what does that leave behind, then? An empty body? A vessel for a rotting soul? A very unlovable being roaming the earth, manipulating anyone she can find to stay; to act as a blind lover, because who else could love a deformed creature like me?

You let yourself take a deep, trembling breath, and as you did, a tiny echo of pain stabbed at your heart. The tears finally came. But, as your cries reverberated through the bathroom, the numbness returned, as if in an attempt to shut out the shame of hearing your agony. Reaching out, you made a gentle swirl in the water, watching as the small waves lapped against the porcelain of the tub, creating another smaller one that disappeared in a split second.

By the time you stepped out of the bath, your fingers were wrinkled. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you walked to the sink. You grabbed your toothbrush, smearing the minty paste across the bristles. Finally, you lifted your gaze to the mirror, the reflection of your tired face greeting you.

The woman gazing back at you seems like a complete stranger—you can hardly fathom that she is the person that little girl grew up into. The sight of your own face caused another tear to fall, but this time, you felt nothing but the throbbing headache that wrecked your brain. Your eyelids felt heavy—all you wanted to do was sleep.

After your nightly routine was complete, you slipped into the comfort of your pajamas—an oversized t-shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants. You turned the doorknob and stepped out of the bathroom. Walking to the kitchen, you decided to quench your thirst before actually going to bed. You opened the cabinet, searching for a clean glass.

As your hand clutched the glass, your gaze drifted to the bottle of bourbon beside it. You scrutinized the amber liquid for a good two minutes before closing the cabinet door with a soft click.

Turning on the tap, you let the cool water fill your empty cup before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. You drained it to ease your dry throat. Placing the glass in the sink, you stared at it, contemplating something. You shook your head, reluctantly pulling yourself away from the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Despite the tightness in your skull and the burning ache of your eyelids, falling asleep proved to be a challenge. You lay there, tossing and turning, desperate for a long-lasting close of eyes. But your mind couldn't cooperate; instead, it was fixed on that day—the day you had visited him. The what-ifs come next, a chorus of “if only” that creates more space for questions and regret. What if you hadn't gone that day? What if you had given him the time and space he needed, trusting that he would come back to you just like he always had before?

What if you had become an easier woman to love? What if you hadn't been made like this—a shameful woman who claws for love in every kindness that others show you? Who had made you this way? Was it your parents and their inconsistent showcase of a tainted version of “love”? Or were you born with this never-ending hell?

Why doesn’t he love me? The words echoed, a persistent refrain that refused to be silenced. Why did he leave me? And you’re left wondering who you’re asking—that man or your father?

With a sudden jolt, you rise from the bed, your feet hitting the solid floor beneath. Wrenching the doorknob harshly, you made a beeline for the bathroom. You pulled open the cabinet, grabbing at everything you could, shoving the various pills and tablets into your mouth. The bitter taste slowly spreads as it all melts on your tongue.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, you walk quickly to the kitchen, eyes landing on the other cabinet – where a bottle of that amber liquid is stored. You open it roughly, downing the contents, feeling the burn of the alcohol searing your throat.

You set the bottle down, turning to leave the kitchen to return to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you blinked, sweeping your gaze one last time around the room. You laid back down on the mattress, pulling the soft blanket up over your body. The ceiling looked bland, all white with a dark spot where it had once leaked.

Reaching out, you grasped the lamp on the bedside table, flicked it off, painting the room black.

SUICIDE HOTLINE.

[no2ticonderoga]

So, you make New Year's resolutions and say this year, I finish XYZ. Then, like two weeks later, you get a new idea and it completely derails you.

I don't know what if anything I'm going to do with this new brain worm that I've developed, so, in the spirit of sharing new AUs that seems to be going around, I'm going to inflict this on share this with you.

--

1943

“C’mon!” Piper pulled at Annabeth’s arm. “Let’s go!”

Annabeth sighed and let herself be dragged across the street toward the cacophony of the USO dance hall. Swing music blared out the doors, audible over the roar of the packed crowd. 

“Piper!” Annabeth complained. Damn these shoes…she thought. She’d never liked this particular pair of heels but Piper had insisted because they matched her blue dress. “Slow down, I’m going to…” She tripped. “Oh sh…” She fell directly into something tall, and blue with gold buttons. “Oof!”

“Well, that wasn’t very lady-like,” a laughing voice said. “Are you all right, Miss?” 

Annabeth looked up at her erstwhile rescuer, his mouth quirked up at the corners, and green eyes sparkling, black hair falling over his forehead in a way that was barely regulation. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I’m not used to women throwing themselves at me though.”

Piper backtracked to her. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Annabeth replied, absently, staring at the stranger. A navy officer…an ensign, according to his insignia. His hat was askew, probably knocked that way when she crashed into him. He didn’t look much older than she was. He was handsome, and he was staring at her oddly, and Annabeth blushed. 

Piper glanced between them. “Hi!” she said brightly. “I’m Piper, this is Annabeth,” she said. 

The ensign gave her a quick grin before returning his eyes to Annabeth. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss…?” he held out his hand. 

“Chase,” She said. “But, yes, I’m Annabeth.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Annabeth Chase,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m Percy Jackson.”

“Nice to meet you,” Annabeth replied.

“Great!” Piper said brightly. “I’ll just leave you two then! Annabeth, don’t stay out all night!” Piper declared.

“Piper!” Annabeth protested, the spell broken at the realization that her friend was ruthlessly abandoning her. “What, no, wait!” But all Annabeth saw was the swirl of Piper’s retreating white and pink polka dotted party dress as she disappeared into the mob around the entrance. She turned helplessly back to Percy.

He was watching her, a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were laughing. “So, are you free this evening, Miss Annabeth Chase?” he asked. 

“I…uh,” she said. “I guess so,” she said, suddenly feeling very exposed. She felt her cheeks warm, and she broke the eye contact, ducking her head and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. 

“Well, are you really here for the dancing, or would you care to accompany me on a whirlwind tour of my favorite places in New York before I leave tomorrow?” he asked.

She looked up. “You’re leaving tomorrow?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Can’t say where, of course,” he added. “Mum’s the word and all that. But I’ve just realized that I’d much rather visit my city instead of try and squeeze myself into that mob.” He gestured to the dance hall, and then offered her his arm.

“I…” she took his arm automatically. “I don’t think I can walk all over the city in these shoes,” she said.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that,” Percy said, as he led her away from the Dance Hall.”

The next thing Annabeth knew, Percy was leading her through Macy’s to women’s shoes. 

“I don’t have money to buy shoes,” Annabeth protested.

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy assured her. “I’ve got it. I’m not going to need much cash where I’m headed.” 

“But!”

“Just trust me,” Percy said with a smile. 

“What do I do with these?” she asked, gesturing at her heels.

“I’ll carry them,” Percy offered. “I don’t mind.”

“You can’t carry them all night!” she protested.

“Then we’ll find a bus station locker and tuck them away safely,” he shrugged. “They’ll be fine.” 

Annabeth felt like she was losing control as Percy directed her to find a pair of low walking shoes, and then paid the tab. “So,” he said as they hit the street again. “Where to first?”

“Isn’t this your night?” she asked. 

“I’ve lived here all my life,” he said. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here, so you tell me, what haven’t you seen yet?” 

“I’m from Boston,” Annabeth said. “But I’ve been here three years…you could still tell?” she asked, they turned down the street.

“I can always tell,” he said, a bit smugly. “How about we start with some cheesecake from Lindy’s, and we can talk about our plan while we eat?”

And talk they did…over the cheesecake. While they strolled through Central Park. When they went to the Battery to look out at Lady Liberty, still just visible in the twilight of the evening. They talked, and they laughed, and throughout the night Annabeth found herself pressing closer and closer to him as they strolled…first arm in arm, but as the evening went on, with his arm around her shoulders. 

She felt like she was in some kind of mad dream. She had to keep reminding herself that this was it.This was all it could be. He was leaving tomorrow for who knew what. 

She told him about her studies at school, and her life in the dorms with Piper. She even shared her dream of finishing her degree (“Oh, a wise girl, I see”) and getting a job as an architect. He told her about growing up in the city, and his love of the sea, which led him to join the Navy. 

“So what do you do in the navy?” she asked, as they walked close together along Fifth Avenue. 

“I’m in minesweeping,” he said, a note of pride in his voice.

Annabeth felt herself give a shiver and was suddenly irrationally scared for him. “Isn’t that really, really dangerous?” she asked.

She felt his shrug. “It’s a job,” he said. “Volunteers only, you know.”

“You volunteered for it?” she said. “You must have seaweed for brains.” 

He laughed. “Maybe I do. But it’s a job that needs doing.”

“I hope you don’t get yourself blown up,” she commented. 

He glanced down at her. “You sound worried.”

“Well, I mean,” Annabeth replied, getting a little flustered. “I just…you…” she spluttered.

“It’s okay Wise Girl, I know your secret. I’ve got one too, so it’s all even stevens,” he said. 

“What secret is that?” she asked, her heart hammering.

“I think I’ll tell you later. How’d you like to go up to the top of the Empire State Building with me? The observation deck should still be open, and I want to see the skyline, one more time.”

“Isn’t it getting late?” she asked. She wasn’t wearing her watch with her party dress. 

“Just before 11,” he replied. “I have to be back by midnight.”

“Me too,” she said. “We have a dorm curfew.” 

“Then we’d better hurry,” he replied. 

They made it there just after 11. It was busy, with lots of servicemen and their girls. Annabeth felt very odd and strange, and out of place. Was this really happening to her? 

They stood and looked down Manhattan toward the harbor. Here and there a light blinked despite the blackout…a door opening on a ship, a porthole briefly open. One of those ships would take Percy away tomorrow. She was standing in front of him, his hands were resting lightly on her hips as they looked out over the dim city. New York didn’t have a true blackout…but the lights were dimmed on all the streets, and no lights were permitted in the upper stories, to prevent the city from silhouetting ships in the harbor. 

“So,” Percy said his voice right next to her ear. “I suppose I should have asked earlier. But is there anyone in your life?” 

“Like…a man?” she replied, voice shaking a bit.

“Yeah, like a man,” he said.

“N..No,” she answered. “I’ve never…I mean…I’m not.” She was starting to babble.

“Shhh,” Percy soothed her. “It’s okay.”

Annabeth had never felt anything like the way she felt. Her stomach felt like it was doing continuous somersaults, and her legs were like jelly. This couldn’t be happening to her. Not like this. But she had to face it. “What…what about you?” she bravely asked in return.

“Nah,” he said. “Never any time.” 

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. 

They were silent another moment. “So what was that secret you think I have?” Annabeth said finally.

“Oh, that?” Percy chuckled. “That’s easy.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You like me.”

She turned in his arms and was facing him. “I do?” she asked, trying for challenging, but her heart was hammering so hard, she was sure it came out more like a plea. 

“Yeah, Wise Girl. But that’s okay,” he said, and he reached a hand up to brush her cheek. She felt her pulse jump in her throat as he did so. “Because I like you too.”

And then he leaned in and kissed her. Annabeth had never been kissed before, and she was absolutely lost in the taste of his lips, the smell of his aftershave, the sharp smell of his freshly issued uniform jacket. She put her arms around his neck, and his hands tightened on her waist, drawing her closer to him. 

Annabeth couldn’t have told anyone how long they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, but she knew she was breathless when they broke apart. 

“Wow,” Percy breathed, eyes wide, looking as shocked as she felt. 

It made Annabeth laugh a little, tension flowing out of her. Some part of her had worried that she was being played by some kind of Don Juan, an experienced seducer. But the wildness around his eyes couldn’t be faked.  “Wow,” she agreed.

“Annabeth, I…” Percy licked his lips. “Can I write to you?” 

“Yes,” Annabeth said. “I would love that.”

“I’ll write you once I get where I’m going,” he promised. “So you can write back.” 

“Okay,” she breathed, and then she kissed him again.

Eventually, they had to go…Percy insisted on walking her back to her dorm, even though his consequences for being late were bound to be worse than his own. 

Annabeth felt tears pricking her eyes as she kissed him one last time on the sidewalk. “Goodbye, Percy,” she said, when they broke apart. 

“See you soon, Wise Girl,” Percy said, reluctantly releasing her hand. 

“Stay safe, Seaweed Brain,” she told him. 

He gave her that lopsided grin that made her heart flip. “I’ll be fine. You wait here, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“It’s a deal,” he said. 

He turned and started down the street. Annabeth stood on the steps of the dormitory and watched him go. He turned the corner.

It was the last time she saw him.

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello!

Can I please request this prompt for your event with the beautiful Sargeant Hunter???

“You love me?” || “I always have”

hello! sorry this is so late, but i hope you enjoy it!! i always liked thinking of pabu as a place where people don't lock their doors and neighbors drop off baked goods to each other just because they wanted to share, like small new england towns in the 80's, so this is kind of based on that

Not Exactly How One Plans a Love Confession

words: 1,230

summary: Hunter originally doesn't want to tell you how he feels, but after you overhear him talking to his brothers, he decides to take the plunge.

clone troopers masterlist

Everyone talks about falling in love like it’s a boulder that rushes down the side of a mountain, mowing down the unsuspecting people standing in its path. But for Hunter, things came on a little bit slower than that. Maybe it was the fact that he was still adjusting to life on Pabu and experiencing so many new things each day, but after a while he didn’t even question the way he felt about you, or the way your lives had become so effortlessly intertwined. 

Shuffling out to the kitchen one morning (with a particularly egregious case of bed head), he barely took note of the fact that there was already a steaming pot of caf waiting for him, and he grabbed a muffin from the basket sitting on the counter without a second thought. It was only when he moved to sit down and enjoy his breakfast that he realized the confections were new. They still didn’t have much in the way of material possessions (despite being here for almost a year now), and a wicker basket like this definitely wasn’t on any of the lists he and his brothers had made of all the things they still needed to fix up and buy. 

As Hunter took a sip of his caf, Crosshair stepped into the kitchen, signature scowl on his face as he filled a canteen with water from the chiller. It wasn’t a shock to see him awake, since he slept on the couch most of the time. “Those better be good,” he said plainly, gesturing towards the muffins. 

Hunter wasn’t quite awake enough to catch his drift the first time around, and he just looked at Crosshair in confusion. “What?” 

“Your girlfriend woke me up when she left them on the counter,” his brother responded. “She walked in like a gundark in a china shop.” 

Hunter just raised his eyebrows, his mind having not even registered the fact that you were never referred to by name, but he knew exactly who Crosshair was talking about. “I doubt that’s exactly how it happened,” he said. “If it was that loud, are sure it wasn’t Wrecker who brought the muffins in?”

Crosshair raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure. No one else would be humming when the sun isn’t even up yet. You know, the two of you should just hurry up and get married, or at least invite her to move in. Maybe then I won’t get woken up by the door slamming open at 0600.” 

Although still half-asleep, Hunter did catch Crosshair’s words the second time his relationship with you was referenced. “Shut up, you know she’s not my girlfriend.” 

Crosshair snorted. “I don’t know a single person who would wake up at the crack of dawn and break into my home to leave freshly baked muffins and start a pot of caf this way she knew I ate something.”

“That’s because no one wants to be around you,” Hunter shot back. 

The sound of someone descending the stairs stopped Crosshair from whatever he was going to say in response, and it was Echo who stepped into the kitchen next. “Good morning,” he said sleepily, trying to stifle a yawn as he shuffled over to the caf machine. “Where did the muffins come from?” 

“A little fairy dropped them off before sunrise,” Crosshair said, raising his eyebrows as he looked over at Hunter. 

Echo nodded, knowing exactly what Crosshair meant. “Make sure to thank her today when you go over there,” he said. 

“What makes you think I’m going over there?” Okay, his brothers were right, he did plan on seeing you today, but Hunter didn’t really want to admit that so easily. 

“We know you,” Echo responded. “And even if you don’t want to admit how you feel about each other, it’s kind of obvious.” 

There were only so many times Hunter could vehemently deny the accusations before he broke, and apparently this was the moment that his defenses came crumbling down. “Fine, I will make sure to thank her.” 

Crosshair gave him a look. “And you’ll tell her how you feel?” 

Without even thinking about what he was saying, Hunter spoke in response. “I’m not going to just tell her that I love her without even going on a date first.”

Both Echo and Crosshair’s eyes widened, but they didn’t even get a chance to make a joke about the situation, because a new voice had entered the conversation. “You love me?” 

Silence fell over the area in an instant, and all eyes turned towards the doorway, where you were standing. The sound of the front door closing behind you made it clear that you had just arrived, and there was a basket of fruit in your hands, no doubt a gift from Shep and Lyana, who you were very close with as well.

Hunter froze, his mind racing as he weighed his options. 

Did he lie and try to save face? But what if you felt the same way? 

Did he own up to his feelings? What if that ruined your friendship?

Whatever was going to happen though, it was clear that Crosshair and Echo had no intentions of being part of it, because they cleared out so fast it was almost as though they dissipated into thin air, and Hunter couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse. The room seemed so much emptier now, and the silence was starting to grow awkward. 

Well, the damage was already done, he thought, before taking a deep breath and speaking. “I think I always have,” he said, getting up from his chair as you took a few steps closer to him. “Even if I didn’t realize it until a little while ago, and I wanted to tell you in a slightly more acceptable way.” 

You laughed, taking the final few steps so that you were close enough to take his hand. “I’ll admit it’s not the most romantic way to find out,” you said. “But I don’t care, I love you too.”

If he was dreaming, he officially never wanted to wake up. “Really?” 

“You’ve become such a big part of my life that I don’t think I ever want to go back to the way I lived without you,” you said. “I’ve lived on Pabu my whole life, but you make it feel like so much more of a home.” 

Okay, now Hunter was trying to keep from tearing up (even though he would never admit it if asked). “Can I kiss you?” he asked, moving even closer. 

“Yes,” you breathed, before finally closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his. He could hear the basket of fruit clatter to the floor the moment his hands found your waist, but at the moment, he didn’t really have it in him to care. 

When you finally broke apart, he couldn’t help but smile, saying the first thing that came to mind. “By the way, the muffins were really good.”

You just laughed before leaning in to kiss him again, a quick peck this time. “If that was your way of saying thank you, I’m certainly not complaining.” 

“Well then, allow me to fully express my appreciation.” 

Hunter supposed he might have to eventually thank his brothers for getting him to admit things, but he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet.

- the end -

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[faghubby]

Hard limits?

"Yes baby I fuck men, real men. I suck them, kiss them and swallow their seed. Anything else you want to know?" Jess replied to me a bit annoyed by my constant questioning.

"Just I mean" I wanted to know every detail. Could I watch? How big where they? What positions? How many men, how many times? Where there several at once? My mind went wild.

"Why don't you go put on something pretty" Jess said snapping back to reality. I smiled and ran to the bedroom. I opened my special drawer. I picked out a pink frilly bra and thong set. I stripped and put them on. My penis was hard and kept popping out. So I went to the bathroom and soaked a wash cloth in cold water my erection subsided and I slid on my little pink chastity cage. I felt extra pretty and put on stockings as well. The kids would be home soon. But I picked out a pair of woman's low ride jeans and put them on as well. Followed by one of my old concert shirts that I left unbuckled to hide the low ride jeans. I came out and Jess smiled.

"Shoes or socks I think" she said I looked down at my stocking edge feet and ran back to grab some socks. Jess lifted my shirt when I returned and smiled.

"They make your butt look amazing" she said and kissed me. "Feel better?" She asked. I just smiled. She felt the cage thru my jeans.

"OH! Without me telling you to?" Jess grinned. "Did you plug your ass as well?" I shook my head no but just then the door opened and in rushed Brian and Kelly. I sometimes wonder if I was their biological father. How long had Jess been cuckolding me? Kelly now 10 looked like her mom. And I could see maybe some similar traits to me in Brian at age 7 but was I just wanting to see them?

Jess had discovered my crossdressing fetish 3 years ago. After catching me dressed in her wedding gown. She confessed to an affair at the same time. Understanding why I never initiated sex with her. She continued to have affairs. She kept them private even from me. And encouraged my crossdressing. Eventually all penetration sex between us stopped. Best I could hope for is a handjob on my birthday or our anniversary. She would initiate sex with me, often by locking me in chastity and having me orally please her.

Just as the kids went to bed Jess snuggled up to me.

"How gay are you?" She asked her hand running along the inside of my thong.

"What? I'm not gay" I told her.

"Are you sure, what if I wanted to fuck your ass with a dildo? Would you let me?" Jess asked I couldn't say I had not thought about it. "You locked up your own penis today so that what your panties would fit better?" Jess asked. Her hand now massaging my balls.

"We could try it I guess" I told Jess.

"Paulie, try what you really want is a real cock isn't it?" Jess asked. "You already tried a toy, or was it something else?" Jess teased. "Tell me" she leaned in and kissed my neck.

"Yes years ago" I confessed.

"And you never told me" Jess smiled. "What was it?"

"The plunger" I moaned

"OH that's so gross" Jess told me.

"Jess I don't want a man" I squealed.

"Jessica, you should start calling me Jessica" she told me. "So hard limit is no real man to fuck your ass, make you suck his cock" Jessica giggled. "Stand up" she smiled. I stood.

"Jeans off" she commanded.

"Jess the kids" I wimpered

"Jessica or Ms Jessica" she corrected me. I took off my jeans right in the living room. She produced a vibrator and lube.

"Turn around and bend over" Jessica told me as she stood up pulling my thong aside. She applied lube to my ass.

"Tell me you want it" Jessica said cupping my balls again. I nodded

"Say it" Ms Jessica commanded

"Yes, please fuck me" I whispered.

"Push out" she told me and push the toy against my ass. Suddenly the ass parted and the toy slid in. Pain shot thru me but Jessica just pushed the toy in.

"Shh don't wake the kids" Jessica giggled

"It hurts" I moaned.

"I know, when I had to let a man take my ass, he was much thicker then this toy" Jessica told me. "If you where a real man able to please me then I wouldn't have had to give up my ass" she told me moving the toy in and out.

"Ooooo" I moaned in pleasure.

"Yeah my little fag husband loves his has fucked" Jessica told me. The front of my panties where soaked as she milked the cum out of me. "I am going to lock that cage on, and make you wear pretties everyday" Jessica told me. Then stopped and pulled out the toy.

"Thank you" I mumbled Jessica just laughed and walked away. I quickly pulled my pants up.

"Jess" I said walking into the bathroom as she was washing her face. She turned quickly and shoved a bar of soap in my mouth.

"JESSICA!" She scolded

"Sorry , Jessica" I said spitting out the soap. She let me brush my teeth. I reached back and felt my sore ass. It seemed so stretched. I even washed her toy. I went into the bedroom Jessica was dressed in an old tee shirt and a pair of my boxers.

"I laid out a nightie for you Paulie" Jessica said. I hated being called Paulie. But looked at the pink frilly baby doll she had left for me. I looked at the outfit. Thinking Jessica was acting wierd I didn't question it just put it on. It felt amazing I loved the light material as it rubbed against me. It came with they where almost see thru. Jessica leaned over as I got under the covers. She reached down pulled my panties back and put a lock on the cage.

"Jessica what if the kids?" I asked but she just patted my cage kissed me and roller over. I sat up for a bit just staring at the ceiling. Was this to far? It had hurt but I felt pleasure. And what Jess, I mean Jessica about having a guy take her ass. I dick strained in the cage. I tried to relax and not think about it. Sleep finally came.

I woke the sun shining thru the window I jumped up it was late. I grabbed my robe and rushed put to wake the kids. To find them eating breakfast. Jessica walked over kissed me and fixed the collar on my robe to cover the flash of pink that was showing.

"Go get ready sleepy head" she told me and smacked my sore ass. I went to shower. When I got out everyone was gone. In the top drawer of my dresser I found it full of bras and panties. With a note.

"Pretties everyday" the note said with a lipstick kiss I picked out a pale blue set I had some issues putting on the bra but got it. I worked from home on Mondays. I decided to be cute and sent Jessica a pic.

"Thanks they all look so lovely" I told her.

"Try a dress as well, and maybe some heels you love so much" I put on a flower print dress I had gotten months ago. And sent her another Pic.

I got a pic of her panties in response

"Will be late tonight" she texted.

I got changed long before the kids came home. I made dinner and cleaned up. The kids had there homework done when Jessica came home. She looked in on them then led me to the bedroom

"Clean me" she told me. Dropping her dress.

"Jessica!" I said shocked

"You said hard limit was no real man" Jessica told me. She pushed me to my knees I hooked my fingers on her panties and pulled them off. They where soaked in cum. I swallowed hard and licked her pussy. The salty taste filled my mouth I wanted to pull away but Jessica held my head. Forcing me to continue. I made her cum as I cleaned her of her lovers cum.

"That was lovely" Jessica told me. Getting up she put on some sweats. Leaving me to clean up. I hand washed her panties and put her dress in the pile to be dry cleaned. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and went to spend time with the family. Jessica pulled the back of my pants back to make sure I still wore my panties.

"Tomorrow you have to wear panties under your work clothes to the office" Jessica laughed. Jessica continued to have me dress everyday. Especially for bed. On Friday she bought me home a present when I opened it inside was a strapon dildo. She grabbed it and put it on. She pushed me on the bed and pulled my panties down lubing me ass she wasted no time forcing her cock in.

"Now I can fuck you just like real men fuck me" she told me. As she worked the toy in and out. She became tired after some time and removed her cock.

"I am going to fuck you everyday" she told me kissing me.

"You loved it didn't you PAULA" she asked me. I just nodded had she called me Paula? Jessica kept her promise finding time to fuck me with her new found cock everyday. I obeyed her every wish. Day dreaming of what she would make me do next. I found myself wondering what she would think of next. She had me ride her cock one night.

"Go ahead suck it. Show me how you would please a man" she told me one night. "Swirl your tounge around it. Slobber on it" she told me.

"You're a sissy now, you should make sure your body hair is gone and let your hair grow out" she told me one night it had been almost two weeks since she locked me up. Three times I had cleaned her used pussy. She started feeding me the cum that leaked from my cage.

"Are you sure about your hard limit Sweety?" Jessica asked me one night as she fed me my own cum. "No real men?" I just nodded

Jessica kept pushing me. She wasn't happy until I could deep throat her dildo, apply makeup properly, had me dressing up sometimes I spent the whole weekend in a dress. She painted my toes and clear coated my finger nails. Styled my hair. All while feeding me not only her lovers cum but my own. It had been nearly two months since she even considered unlocking me.

"Paulie come on I am taking you out" Jessics smiled. She had laid out my outfit. There was a new pink lace bra and thong on top. Followed by a pair of ladies slacks and a button down shirt. I realized the shirt had a lace collar. I got dressed anyway. Jessica had me wear my black pumps. And do some soft makeup.

"Ms Jessica" I said scared thinking of leaving the house.

"No, you said your hard limit was a REAL MAN" she reminded me "would you like to change that?" She smiled. I just shook my head.

Jessica drove I tried to hide my face as we left the neighborhood. Hoping no one saw. Jessica drove to her favorite restaurant. We had reservations no one even looked at me differently.

"You look fine stop fretting" Jessica told me as we approached a table there was already a woman there.

"Tiffany this is Paula" she introduced me. We sat and ate I was very quiet hardly uttering a word. Jessica actually ordered for me.

Tiffany put her hand on my knee. My eyes popped open.

"Paula don't worry, Tiffany is a girl like you" she giggled. I jumped up and headed for the bathroom. As soon as I went to open the door Tiffany grabbed my arm.

"Wrong one silly" leading me into the ladies room. She glanced around then pushed me against the wall. She kissed me. Pressing hard against me. She guided my hand down under her skirt. I felt her cock no longer contained in her soft panties. I stroked her. She felt so big. The door opened and I heard Jessica's voice.

"Think you girls need to find a room" she said. Tiffany let me go but I still held her cock.

"You want her big girl cock, Baby" Jessica giggled. I snapped out of whatever spell I was under and let go. Jessica gave Tiffany our home address and we would meet there. I was In a daze till I reached the car.

"You okay sweety?" Jessica asked I just nodded. She drove us home. Tiffany was already there waiting. As soon as the door was unlocked Tiffany dragged me inside tearing the buttons of my blouse. We where downtown out panties in seconds I felt her breasts. Did I want breasts. I wanted her cock. I did! I dropped and sucked her cock. I have no idea where Jessica had gone and I didn't care. I sucked Tiffany's cock taking her all down my throat. She moved at one point sitting down. I crawled following her. Suddenly I felt Jessica reach under me and unlock my cage. My cock sprang free throbbing. Jessica ran her hand over my ass just as Tiffany unloaded down my throat. I had never had anyone cum on my mouth before I tried to swallow sucking up all her cum. She pulled out of my mouth. She kissed me. She stroked me.

"Please I don't want to cum, don't make me cum I moaned into her shoulder. She stopped.

"You are one little submissive thing aren't you. She bent me over and squirted lube up my butt. Her cock slid in as I let out a moan. She fucked me. Hard. How was she still hard? Had she recovered that quickly? I let my mind go blank as she fucked me. Jessica was gone again. As Tiffany pounded my ass. Finally cumming again this time deep inside me. I crawled into a ball. Tiffany lifted me up and took me to the bedroom. She spooned me reaching around she teased my little cock.

"Don't worry little one I won't let you cum" she cooed in my ear teasing me till I was about to cry then stopping over and over. She finally stopped when I begged her to let me cum. And held me as I fell asleep.

I woke alone, naked and my cage back on. Jessica had left a message.

Spending the night with a real man. Kids will be home around 8. Still think you have a hard limit?