#and they realize there’s a blood relation between the two and the rest of the series is them learning how to live a normal life

[professorlegaspi]

AU in which CPS gets called on Aunt Agatha and Celia is put into the foster system at age 5

[7s3ven]

GREEK ROMANTIC. luke castellan

IN WHICH… luke castellan joins an exchange program to visit camp jupiter for sword fighting experience but ends up spending most of his time with a girl from said roman camp.

Warnings : lowkey loser! Luke, kinda long… so uh yeah, Luke kinda thirsts over reader (he’s 19 and has spent most of his time in a camp, he does not get girls), i worked on this for like a week (PLZZZ READ AND LIKE AND COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE 🫡), less strict version of Camp Jupiter

—

idea inspired by @the-empty-refrigerator !

I literally do classical studies, this is perfect for me to yap abt my roman knowledge. I have no idea what Camp Jupiter looks like so imma just use my Roman architecture knowledge for this. THIS IS MY FIRST LUKE FIC IN A WHILE LOL.

( disclaimer : info will differ from this fic to the canon plot bc i don’t know much abt camp jupiter )

In all honesty, Luke was a little nervous. He had willingly signed up for an exchange program between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter but now that he was on his way to the latter, he was anxiously bouncing his leg.

Years ago, there was a thick mist between the two camps due to previous events involving bloody wars. Now, that mist was lifted and the campers were free to sign up for an exchange program to visit the other.

Luke was wondering why he had agreed to sign up in the first place. Chiron promised he’d gain further experience in sword fighting, but warned that it wouldn’t be easy.

Camp Half-Blood prided itself on its friendly approach. Camp Jupiter was anything but that. Their campers were rugged, harsh, and disciplined by Lupa, the wolf who raised Romulus and Remus. Of course, their war-like nature made sense because the camp was founded on bloodshed when Romulus slayed Remus.

Luke lifted his head, looking around to see if he could spot anyone in a purple shirt. He was waiting on the side of the road, looking rather pathetic and sad to those passing by.

A black car with tinted windows rolled to a stop in front of Luke, and the car jolted open. “Are you Luke Castellan?” The demigod inside asked. Luke slowly nodded his head. “Hop in.” There was a bit of awkward shuffling from Luke to squeeze past the unnecessary amount of swords in the car. “So, how’s Camp Half-Blood?” The demigod driving questioned, looking at Luke through his shaded sunglasses.

“Good…” Luke was secretly relieved that someone was talking to avoid an awkward car ride. “Probably less demanding than Camp Jupiter, though. I’ve heard horror stories of your training from campers.”

The boy laughed as he sharply turned around a corner. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. Made me wish I was a normal kid when I had to do all those pushups.” He paused before starting a new conversation. “Do you workout? Because you’ve got some nice muscles. Not to be weird or anything.”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke cleared his throat, “I sort of have to. Being a swordsman and all that.”

The other demigod whistled. “Must be hard, man. I’m Sohan, by the way. Son of Mercury, Hermes for you.”

Luke leaned forward, “I’m son of Hermes. That makes us like… distantly related or something.” Sohan laughed and tilted his head back.

“I like you, Castellan. Mind if I call you Luke?”

“Go ahead.”

The rest of the drive was each demigod taking their turn to explain different parts of their camps. Luke realized that Camp Jupiter didn’t have all the fun activities Half-Blood had. Though, there was a more bloody version of Capture the Flag.

“So you know how you have camp councillors, right? We have something similar but we call them praetors. They’re basically the leaders of the camp.” Sohan explained as he bit into his sugary chocolate bar. “We have two at a time, one girl and one guy.”

“So there’s only two leaders?” Luke questioned while opening the wrapping of his cheeseburger.

“Praetors are the highest leaders. Other than that, we have centurions, augurs, and quaestors. It’s confusing, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. You don’t really need to know what everybody does, just who’s who.”

It was all too confusing for Luke.

“Our current male praetor is also a son of Mercury, his name’s Jae. Our other one is a daughter of Venus, Aphrodite for you. I think.” Sohan paused before shaking his head, dismissing his doubt. “We all thought she was kind of crazy for going after the position. That’s when I learnt to never underestimate a child of Venus because they are brutal.” Sohan chuckled as the car finally came to an abrupt halt.

Luke peeked out the window, gazing at the tall trees. Past the thick forest, he could faintly see a river.

Sohan grabbed the swords from beside Luke, sheepishly chuckling. “New sword delivery.” He uttered, “Didn’t have time to put them away. Some are still in a box.”

Luke merely hummed as he hopped out of the car. “Need help?” He questioned. He took a handful of swords from Sohan’s pile, easily supporting their weight. Sohan carefully stacked a box on top of everything else before nodding.

“You know, if I was a girl or gay, I’d have a crush on you.” Sohan uttered as the pair walked through the forest. “How do the girls at Half-Blood like you?”

“I’ve been chased multiple times. That should say it all.” Nothing was scarier to Luke than a hoard of girls sprinting towards him on Valentine’s Day.

“That’s the Tiber River.” Sohan pointed out as Luke stumbled into a sunny clearing. “The river that Romulus and Remus were thrown into.” Sohan led the way towards small, slightly unstable bridge. He effortlessly walked over it, ignoring the way the rickety wood creaked.

Luke sighed, having no choice but to follow after Sohan unless he wanted to swim.

“I’ll be the one showing you around. I just have to drop these swords off with the praetors, or at least one of them, and then we can begin.” Sohan piped up. He was shorter than Luke with shiny black hair and olive skin. Luke assumed he was Asian with the slight accent peeking through and the red-inked tattoo on his shoulder displaying a dragon with Chinese characters.

“Praetor!” Sohan suddenly shouted. Luke spotted the H/C-haired girl as she turned around, in the middle of talking with another camper. Luke couldn’t instantly tell who her mother was.

“Oh, the swords. Soldier, go find Praetor Jae.” Y/N hurried the other girl off before jogging towards Sohan.

“This is Luke Castellan. The exchange camper.” Sohan said, trying to gesture towards Luke. The action caused the box on top of the swords to slip. It opened, a group of swords toppling out.

Luke was quick to react. Instead of attempting to catch every sword, he simply grabbed Y/N and pulled her side before the swords could skewer her.

There was a second of silence before Sohan spoke up. “I apologise for my clumsiness, Praetor.” He immediately crouched down to rearrange the weapons, his movements so fast Luke thought they were rehearsed.

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she stared at the swords on the ground. Her gaze flickered to Luke, who still had a tight grip on her arm. “Luke Castellan, right?” She asked, lips curving into a small yet charming smile.

Sohan looked at Y/N then at Luke. “I need to talk to Praetor Jae about something important. Praetor, would you mind showing Luke around?” Sohan didn’t wait for an answer before clumsily hurrying off, dropping swords every two seconds.

“You forget these swords!” Luke called after him but Sohan wasn’t listening.

“Dump them here with the rest.” Y/N instructed with a shrug. Luke dropped the swords, watching as they hit the floor with a loud clang. “Let’s get started with the tour.” She formally clasped her hands behind her back, standing up straighter than Luke had ever seen somebody stand.

“This is the Praetorian Gate, the entrance to the main barracks. On your right is the bathrooms. This street is called the Via Principalis, it’s the central road lined with barracks, the mess hall, and other necessaries needed for our wellbeing.”

Luke was a little stunned with how Y/N was speaking. She was talking like her words were scripted and had been practiced a million times in the mirror. Luke usually free-styled his tours.

“Centurion Sohan will show you your room once he finishes with his errand. For now, all you need to know is that you’ll be staying in one of these buildings. Behind them is the compost bin. Please do not jump in there because we have had to go dumpster diving to retrieve Half-Blood campers.”

Luke let out a quiet sigh. “It was Travis, wasn’t it?”

“You know him?” Y/N questioned, looking over her shoulder in mild interest.

“Unfortunately. He’s my brother.”

Y/N silently nodded, holding back a comment. “Beside the compost bin, where your raccoon of a brother jumped into for a game of hide and seek, are the stables.” Y/N led Luke down a smaller path to show him the stables. He glanced at the bin, arching an eyebrow at a badly drawn version of Travis on a sign with a large X on it.

“We had to ensure nobody else jumped in again.” Y/N explained, “So we put up a sign. It’s not very well-drawn. All the Apollo kids were away so we had no one artistic around. Over there is the training centre. Feel free to use it whenever. We have plenty of new swords as you already know.”

“What about those buildings?” Luke asked in curiosity as they walked back towards the main entrance.

“That’s the Praetorium and Principa, used to hold meetings and act as headquarters. Those aren’t important to you.”

Camp Jupiter was bigger than Luke expected. There were two main areas for civilisation and even a university.

“This is the forum. This area of camp is basically a replicant of Rome itself.” Y/N piped up, “There’s the senate house, also used for meetings, New Rome University, the Coliseum where we sometimes train or host mock battles, Circus Maximum, again used for training, sometimes chariot racing, ceremonies, and so on. There’s a lake over there if you ever wanna spend your free time swimming, but I will warn you that if you ever take your shirt off, it will attract attention.” Y/N teasingly smiled, confusing Luke. She was strictly sticking to her job as a praetor a moment ago, reciting a speech about the camp.

“Uh… why will it attract attention?” Luke sheepishly asked, feeling a little embarrassed for not catching on.

“You’re a new boy, Luke Girls here love fresh meat, especially when they have as much muscle as you.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed light pink. “Right.” He uttered, suddenly aware of how a group of girls was waiting for Y/N to leave so they could pounce on him. “Let’s uh, go back to the bin. I wanna see that sign of my brother again.”

Y/N slightly chuckled. “They aren’t gonna hurt you, Castellan.” She said, referring to the girls behind her, “Unless you want them to.”

“I would prefer to keep all my limbs attached to my body, thank you very much.”

Y/N cracked another amused smile. “Suit yourself. I like my boys missing an arm.” She joked.

“Guess I’ll cut mine off then after all.” Luke wittily retorted.

“We have a game of capture the flag happening tonight if you want to join.” Y/N offered, “You can sacrifice your arm for me then.”

Luke grinned, happy he was actually getting along with someone from Camp Jupiter given their rivalry with Half-Blood. “I’ve heard your games of Capture the flag are a little more harsher… to what extent is that actually true?”

Y/N quietly laughed. “It’s Roman style, someone will probably lose an eye to be honest.” She said it in such a joking tone but there was a look in her eyes that alerted Luke she wasn’t joking.

—

Luke would definitely come to regret even thinking about joining this game of capture the flag. The teams weren’t organised by Cabins, instead each leader strategically chose their members months before the actual game to ensure a high chance of victory.

Luke ended up standing across from Y/N, dressed in golden armour and holding a sword that seemed to be a little too heavy. Sohan was with Luke, checking his arrows.

“They still allow you to use how and arrows?” Luke questioned, remembering how said weapon was banned from Half-Blood’s game of capture the flag because of an incident.

“What’s fun without a little arrow wound?” Sohan joked. Luke slowly turned his head, eyes wider than usual.

“Not being stabbed by an arrow seems more fun.” He muttered to himself.

He glanced at Y/N, who was carelessly swinging her long spear around. She met his gaze and paused for a second before lightly dragging her thumb over her throat with a patronising grin.

Luke gulped. “She’s gonna kill me.” He whispered.

“Oh, good! That means she likes you.” Sohan nudged Luke with a smile, “The harder she tries to kill you, the more she likes you.”

“That seems a little contradictory.” Luke replied, almost shaking.

“When the bell rings, and trust me you’ll hear it, just follow me. We’re paired together to hide and defend the flag. All you have to do is hide and jump out to stop the opponents. They’ll think it’s only me and then, bam! You come in.” Sohan explained the plan to Luke, who was listening intently so he wasn’t the one to lose an eye.

Sohan tightly gripped the flag in his grasp. “We have ten minutes to plant the flag somewhere. A second bell will ring and that means the game has started.”

Luke nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. A loud bell suddenly rang out through the clearing and Sohan immediately sprung into action. He sprinted off and Luke scrambled to follow him.

“This way!” Sohan exclaimed as he sharply turned to the left. Luke leaped over a log, landing heavily on the hard dirt. The forest should have felt familiar since Half-Blood also played surrounded by trees but this felt different. Luke had no idea where they were going until Sohan came to an abrupt stop.

“Here should be good.” He panted.

Luke looked around. They were surrounded by heavy vegetation and he was barely able to see past the thick tree leaves. Sohan lodged the flag between two stones and nodded in approval.

“The bell will be ringing soon. Hide over there.” Sohan ordered, pointing at a bush beside the flag. Luke sighed as he ducked behind the bush, the twigs below him scraping at his knees. “I hate this hiding place.” He muttered, “I feel like a Guinea pig.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” Sohan replied. “The bell should be ringing any second now. Remember to stay quiet.”

Luke silently rolled his eyes as he ducked lower to the floor in order to get comfortable and peek past the bush branches. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the second bell ringing followed by loud shouts varying in volume. Some kids at Half-Blood, mainly the Ares kids, loved battle cries but not to that extent.

Luke waited ten minutes and when nothing happened, he resorted to lying on his back. Twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of any other demigods. Luke had resorted to seeing how many leaves he could count before he heard a quiet rustle. He paused, waiting.

Everything was still before Luke heard weapons clash loudly together. He peered above the bush, instantly recognising Y/N past her bronze helmet. There was another kid reaching for the flag while Sohan was struggling with Y/N.

Luke quickly reached for his sword, flinging it at the Roman demigod before he could grasp the flag. The handle hit him in the face, temporarily stunning him. Luke was swift to jump out and grab his sword, holding it in front of him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, man.” Luke uttered. He swung his blade at the demigod boy, who he later realized was named Nikolai because of the inscription in his helmet.

Nikolai counterattacked Luke, effortlessly pushing the Greek brunette back. Luke was reluctant to injure a kid he barely knew but Sohan continuously shouting “hit him” was getting annoying.

Luke grabbed Nikolai by the shoulders, shoving him away from the flag. Sohan was battling against Y/N, who had a spear similar to Clarisse’s. Compared to her spear, Sohan’s bow and arrows and backup dagger wouldn’t be of much use.

Nikolai swung his sword at Luke but every time, Luke managed to block the hits. Luke pushed Nikolai’s sword away, but he underestimated his strength and the sword went flying.

Both Nikolai and Luke turned their heads to stare at the weapon lying on the floor.

“Hit him!” Sohan exclaimed through gritted teeth as he held Y/N back by her arm.

Luke, on instinct, punched Nikolai’s shoulder and scrambled for his sword. He leaned over to grasp it but he was unexpectedly kicked from behind.

Y/N, who Sohan should have been holding back, had knocked the son of Mercury to the ground and made an instant beeline for Luke.

“Don’t chop my head off!” Luke yelled as he rolled to the left to avoid Y/N’s sword as she forcefully swung it down. Luke kicked her ankles, causing her to sway.

Nikolai made another reach for the flag but Sohan managed to shoot an arrow his way, luckily not hitting the boy but it served as a warning.

“You said this was an easy job!” Luke yelled at Sohan as Y/N made another attempt to hit Luke. He tried to strike her ankles again but the same trick wouldn’t fool the praetor twice. She effortlessly pulled him up and slammed his back against a tree, holding a smaller knife to his throat.

“I am literally so scared right now.” Luke wheezed as he wiggled around in Y/N’s surprisingly strong grip. Sohan shot another arrow, this time at Y/N. It barely missed her head. While she was shocked for a second, Luke grabbed her by both shoulders and pushed her back.

“We got a runner!” Another voice suddenly shouted. A member of Y/N’s team, sprinted into the area, followed by two boys from Luke and Sohan’s group.

Sohan scrambled to stop the runner aiming for the flag but Nikolai knocked him back to the ground. Luke made the executive decision to pursue the runner. There wasn’t much Luke could do with his sword so he tossed it aside and did the only other thing he could think of; he tackled the other demigod.

Y/N let out a laugh as the two boys toppled down a hill, each trying to let the other take the brute of the floor. Luke groaned as he spat out a mouthful of daisies. His helmet had fallen off somewhere and he had no energy to actively search for it.

The bell rung once more and the demigod beside Luke sighed as he removed his helmet, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

“You’re the Greek kid, right?” He questioned. “I’m Kato.”

“Yeah. Luke, nice to meet you.”

“Do you also feel like you’ve got internal bleeding?” Kato grumbled as the two boys made no effort to sit up, instead choosing to just lie on the floor among the flowers.

“Oh, definitely.” Luke replied, “Think I might be sick later.”

—

“You both have bruised ribs. Honestly, it could have been worse. Drinking this will help.” An Apollo kid handed Kato and Luke a foul smelling drink.

“It’s best to get it over and down with.” Kato whispered, “Cheers.”

“Not sure if I actually want to consume this.” Luke wrinkled up his nose but tilted his head back away.

The pair gulped down the liquid as fast as they could, both gagging once they had finished.

“Wow, you guys are almost like twins. If Kato had brown hair, you guys might actually sell it.”

Kato and Luke exchanged a look before they both grinned.

“I didn’t know there was temporary hair dye.” Kato said as he stared down at the box. Y/N sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Do you want it or not? Coloured hair spray might be easier for you.”

“Yeah, give me that.” Kato threw the box of temporary dye aside. Luke easily caught it, handing it to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She smiled before looking through a trunk of hair supplies. “Good game out there, Castellan. Are you always that quick thinking on your feet?”

Luke shrugged as he stood beside Y/N, leaning on the bunk bed behind him. “I guess? Most of the time we have to think quickly at Half-Blood. We don’t exactly have strategies for every little thing.”

Y/N and Kato stared at Luke in mild surprise. Y/N let out a quiet huff, “I guess you Greeks are disorganised like Lupa said.”

“She said what?” Luke stood up straight. “We aren’t that disorganised. We still have tactics.”

“Yeah, and they kind of, forgive my language here, suck.”

“At least my whole existence isn’t based on a brother who killed his sibling because of anger issues.” Luke muttered loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” Y/N retorted, leaning forward.

“I don’t really want to use the same threat as you because that’s boring. But I will kick your ankle again.” Luke replied.

Kato cleared his throat. “Don’t mean to interrupt whatever… lover argument you have going on but how does this spray work?”

“The cap’s still on. You gotta take it off first.” Y/N exasperatedly sighed.

“Oh, yeah, got it. Go back to your lovers quarrel.”

Y/N picked up an empty box of hair dye, tossing it at Kato. “There is no lovers quarrel!” She exclaimed.

“Really? Bc I felt something.” Luke teasingly piped up from behind her.

“I hope you choke.” Y/N mumbled, sending Luke a warning glare. “Maybe I should’ve cut off your arm. Would’ve taught you a reason.”

“I’ll just take my shirt off because like you said, no one can resist me.” Luke grinned as they bantered back and forth.

“Don’t rely on your looks to escape me, Castellan. Next time we play capture the flag, I’m kicking you down another hill no matter whose team you’re in.” There was a knock on the door and a rough-looking teenager peeked his head inside.

His body was covered in cuts, grazes, and purple bruises. He had a slit in his left eyebrow and an earring dangling from his right ear. When he turned to Y/N and said something in Latin, Luke noticed a shiny piercing on his tongue.

“Castellan, right?” The boy asked, pointing at Luke. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jae, the other praetor.” Jae stepped forward and reached for Luke’s hand, firmly shaking it.

“Nice to meet you.” Luke greeted him.

“I see you’ve already found yourself acquainted with the devil reincarnated.” Jae slyly grinned at Y/N, who could do nothing but huff and cross her arms over her chest in annoyance. “I’ve got to borrow Praetor Y/N for a second, hope you boys don’t mind.”

Y/N sighed as she followed Jae out the door. “This couldn’t have waited?” She asked.

“I was reluctant to interfere. You and the Castellan boy seemed quite close.” Jae replied with a shrug.

“I will literally feed you to the monsters if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“She likes you.” Kato uttered once Y/N was out of ear range.

“How can you tell?” Luke arched an eyebrow as he sat down on a nearby chair.

“She never argues with anyone. Not like that at least. When she argues, you have to listen because there’s no choice. That was more like… bickering used as an excuse to talk to you.” Kato said as he finally put down the can of hair spray. “Yo, we kind of do look alike. That’s freaky.”

Luke ignored Kato’s last point. “How do you know she doesn’t bicker?”

“Praetor Y/N is a straight to the point type of girl. You’ll know when she doesn’t like something. If she was really arguing with you, she would’ve had you shut up within your first two words.” Kato laughed, “She made me shut up once by shoving the words down my throat… literally. She wrote my words on a piece of paper and made me eat it.”

Kato paused, shivering as he remembered the chilling moment. “Anyway, Centurion Sohan, me, and a couple of other guys are going to the lake for a swim. You wanna join?”

“Yeah, sure, why not. I’ll act as eye candy like Y/N described me.” Luke sarcastically said, making Kato chuckle.

“Trust me, the girls will love you.” Kato only reassured Y/N’s point.

There were already a few smaller groups at the lake when Luke and the others arrived. As Luke combed a hand through his hair, he noticed a few girls looking his way and giggling. Kato nudged him.

“See? Told you they’d love you.”

Luke simply nodded. He lifted his shirt to pull it off but unexpectedly saw Y/N not too far away, locked in what seemed to be a serious conversation with Jae. Her eyebrows were tensely furrowed before her gaze suddenly switched to Luke.

He almost jumped at how fast her eyes moved. He quickly pulled his shirt off, giving Y/N a small wave. She slightly raised her eyebrows but never looked away. Slowly, she waved back.

Jae finished speaking and Y/N nodded, pointing to her right and uttering a few more words before they split ways.

“Wow, you two really do look like twins.” Y/N said as she looked at Luke and Kato. “You sure you don’t share a mother?”

“You out here for a swim too?” Luke questioned, squinting under the bright sun.

“No. I came here to check out the guys and pick my next murder victim.”

“How charming. And I thought what we had was special when you threatened to roll me down a hill again.”

“I’m saving you for last, Castellan. When the police find my victims, I’ll ask you to hide me then I’ll stab you in the back.”

“You know what I’m craving right now?” Luke switched the topic, “A pina colada.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a minute before furrowing her eyebrows. “Is that… some sort of drink?”

She heard Luke dramatically gasp. “You’ve never tried one?! Lucky for you, I’m a master at making cocktails. Just sit here, look pretty, and choose your next target. I’ll be right back.”

That was how Y/N found herself hanging around Luke almost every day, trying different cocktail mixtures he made while sitting under a large umbrella to avoid the heat.

“Why’d you put so much vodka in this one?” Y/N questioned, frowning, “It’s all I can taste.”

“My hand slipped.” Luke shrugged. He was lying on a towel beside Y/N, taking advantage of the sun to gain that perfect summer tan, as he liked to call it. “How come you never join your friends in the water?” He questioned, glancing over at Jae and a few other campers who were beckoning Y/N over.

“I don’t like water.” She covered her eyes with her shaded sunglasses, ignoring her friends. “It messes up my hair.”

“I’ll go swimming then. I think my back is turning red now.” Luke stood up, stretching. Y/N gulped down the rest of her drink, carelessly throwing the cup to the side as she jumped to her feet.

“I’ll come if you’re going.” She announced.

“Why the sudden change in attitude?” Luke teased, nudging her.

“I will force your head under water and let you drown.” Y/N deadpanned, causing Luke to take a small step back. Luke reached for his water bottle and took a large sip while Y/N peeled her shirt off. Luke’s eyes flickered to her for a second before his cheeks turned red and he spat out a mouthful of water.

Y/N looked at him weirdly, a judging glint in her eyes. “You good?” She asked.

“Yeah… fine.” Luke choked out.

Y/N didn’t believe him. She looked down at her bikini with bows and ruffles before raising an eyebrow. “Are you staring at my boobs?” She accused him.

“No! Are you staring at my abs?!” Luke tried to change the conversation but his attempt backfired.

“Yes. You’ve got nice abs.” Y/N shamelessly admitted like a true Roman, never scared to state the obvious.

“Well, in that case, you’ve got nice boobs.” Luke wanted to punch himself as soon as he said that.

“It doesn’t sound right when you say that to a girl.” Y/N scrunched up her face which only made Luke’s desire to be swallowed by the ground stronger.

“I realised that.”

“Praetor! Luke! Are you gonna keep chatting or finally get in the water?!” Sohan yelled from his position on a rock in the water.

“My makeup’s gonna get all ruined.” Y/N huffed but still dipped a leg into the lake. “It’s cold.”

“Lake’s are usually cold.” Luke retorted, not hesitating to jump into the deep end of the lake. Water splashed everywhere and Y/N shielded her face from the droplets.

“Watch it!” She yelled out a warning at Luke as he resurfaced, grinning.

“Oops.” He sarcastically apologised.

Y/N sat down at the shore’s edge, soaking her legs in the lake. “I’m good here.” She said, kicking her legs.

“You sure? The water isn’t that cold once you get used to it.” Luke swam closer to her and heaved himself up onto the warm rock.

Y/N kicked the water again, nodding. “Yeah… I’ll ruin my hair and makeup if I get in.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear but it slipped out again, much to her annoyance.

She frowned, reaching for it again, but Luke beat her to it. “You’re pretty without makeup.” He said as he securely tucked the strand away.

Y/N glanced at the boy beside her, suddenly feeling very small. Luke made her feel vulnerable, not necessarily in a bad way. His deep brown eyes made her want to pour out every secret.

Like how she secretly hated an Apollo boy because he kept beating her to the last piece of cake.

Or how she cheated on every English paper in school to raise her GPA because she simply couldn’t read properly.

Or perhaps about how she was afraid of love, despite being the daughter of Venus herself. That fear always made Y/N feel a little stupid.

Or… how she couldn’t swim and refused to swim because she almost drowned once while her so-called friends laughed at her.

“Castell- Luke…” She quickly corrected herself, realising how accustomed she had become to Luke’s presence. “I can’t swim.” She blurted out. “My hair and makeup don’t matter… I just can’t swim. And I don’t want to swim.”

Luke carelessly shrugged and for a second, Y/N was scared he’d dismiss her fear.

“I’ll stay here with you then.” He said instead. “I’ll keep you company.”

“You can swim if you want to.” Y/N replied, fidgeting with her hands. Her heart leaped in her chest and her stomach felt queasy. Was this a crush?

“Nah. I like it here better.” Luke shifted closer to Y/N, slowly slinging an arm around her shoulder. He was expecting her to immediately shove him away but she remained still. Her back was rigidly straight until she hesitatingly relaxed.

“Thank you.” She said as the sun began to set, hues of orange, yellow, and blue painting the sky and reflecting into the lake. Y/N was surrounded by laughing demigods and legacies but she could only focus on Luke; how his hair looked perfect despite being damp, how his skin glistened in the sun, and how his arm was wrapped tightly around her as if he was protecting her from something.

For once, she felt safe. There was no quest she was required to complete, no glory to seek for the Legion, and no heavy exceptions weighing her down.

It was just her and Luke sitting beside each other in comfortable silence.

—

“Are you sure you have to go?” Sohan asked as he tightly clung to Luke, fully prepared to force the son of Hermes to stay.

“My little sister’s waiting for me.” Luke said as he hugged Sohan back, firmly patting his shoulder. Annabeth. Luke had told Y/N about his sister; they weren’t related by blood but she was his found family.

“Make sure to visit and right.” Jae uttered as he struggled to pull Sohan away from Luke. Y/N stood silently next to Jae, holding Luke’s bag.

“Have a safe trip.” She told him, which wasn’t the goodbye Luke had been expecting. He envisioned a small smile, maybe a hug if Y/N was in a good mood.

“Thanks. Good luck with your praetorian duties.” Luke replied, nodding his head.

“You ready to go?” Kato piped up, throwing the car keys in the air and effortlessly catching them.

“Yeah… I guess.” Luke muttered, stealing another glance at Y/N.

‘KISS HER!’ His mind screamed at him. This would be his last opportunity to address the feelings he had caught for Venus’ favourite daughter.

Jae and Sohan looked at each other then at Y/N, who seemed to be restraining all emotions. They almost seemed like they were begging her to make a move on Luke before it was too late.

“Bye, Y/N.” Luke stuck out his hand and Y/N didn’t hesitate to grab it.

“Good bye, Castellan. Camp Jupiter will miss you.”

Luke knew Y/N was too prideful to say ‘I’ll miss you’. This was her alternative.

Luke and Y/N stared at each other with their hands still gripping the other before they finally halted the awkward exchange.

Luke followed Kato towards the car, somewhat hoping Y/N would chase after him. She didn’t.

Y/N watched with her head held high to conceal her frown as Luke walked away, waiting for the moment he’d turn around and run back. He never did. He passed the stone arch that acted as entrance to Camp Jupiter, most likely to never return and if he ever did, it’d be in a few long years.

—

A year had passed since Luke’s departure from the Roman Demigod camp. He was pleased to be back at Half-Blood, but there was someone who was missing. As expected, some Aphrodite girls showed strong interest in Luke, but he never paid them attention.

They were beautiful, but Luke missed the girl who would threaten to throw him to the wolves if he even looked at her. He found her guarded personality charming.

“Luke, Chiron needs you to show one of the exchange campers from Jupiter around.” Chris, Luke’s brother, said. “She’s the last one.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Luke spent months hoping Y/N would show up randomly one day but after three, he gave up. He had heard from Sohan’s regularly written letters, which often featured Jae and Kato too, that Y/N was busier than ever as a praetor. She had doubled her work load, working until she quite literally passed out. Sohan expressed his concerns but didn’t quite know what was wrong.

“She’s waiting in the strawberry field.” Chris told Luke, pointing him in the right direction.

Luke took his sweet time in walking towards the field, his hands shoved into his pockets. There was a figure standing amongst the strawberries, admiring the various flowers and berries.

“Late as usual, Castellan. How Greek of you.”

Luke’s eyes lit up at the sight of the girl in front of him. He cracked a large grin. “What can I say, Y/N? I’m a true Greek demigod.”

FIN.

A/N: while writing this, I was randomly reminded of an old classic book I read where the main characters are clearly in love but know they’ll never see each other again after they split ways. And now I’m sad.

PJO TAG LIST (will update later, I’m tired 😴): @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @jennapancake @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @be-bap @kamiliora @2hiigh2cry @gisellesprettylies @ur-lacol-dsylexic @lilacspider @lukecastellandefender

[secretly-dum]

Could I get a Joel miller x reader fic where the reader gets her period and her past partners always made her sleep on the couch bc they thought it was gross and Joel is just like wtf at someone treating his daeling like that?

Come Back to Bed, Please?

pairing: joel miller x AFAB!reader

genre: romantic fluff <3

summary: you get your period and freak out over what Joel’s reaction could be.

warning/contents: reader has a period, blood mentions(obv), Y/N is used, AFAB reader, mentions of past relationships, it gets a tad bit angsty.

additional notes: ty for the request!! Im actually AFAB(I identify as agender btw) so I can relate to this 😭

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Your stomach starts to hurt and you immediately realize what time of the month it is. You rush to the bathroom and grab your stash of pads underneath the cold sink.

Knock, knock.

You completely forgot about Joel..

“Uh..Y/N? You..you alright…?” Joel questions worryingly, thinking the worst that could possibly happen to you.

“I’m alright…I’m just on period!” You yell out nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t make a snarky remark or say you’re disgusting.

“Alright, just tell me if you need anything.” He says and you hear him walk away. Fear washes off of you, but confusion starts to settle in when he didn’t give you the reaction you thought we was going to give you. Cleaning yourself up, a cold darkness settles outside, indicating that you should start to go to rest.

“Took Ellie to sleep, she told me to tell you ‘goodnight’” Joel says chuckling softly and you smile.

“Well, I’m tired too. Think I’m gonna head to bed now.” You say as you pick up your pillow and a blanket from you and Joel’s shared bed.

“Woah woah woah! The hell are ya’ doing?”

“Picking up my stuff…?”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m on my period, dummy.” You nonchalantly reply, and lay down on the couch. Joel looks at you with the most confused expression ever and realization hits you like a truck.

“That don’t mean you have to sleep on the couch.” His southern deep accent breaks the short silence between the two of you. Opening your mouth, your voice seemingly disappears from your throat, and now you’re the one confused.

“But that doesn’t…that doesn’t make you disgusted? Or something? Doesn’t that bother you?” You say, barely above a whisper.

“No…? Y/N…god dammit.” He pinches the bridge of his nose making you even more confused.

“Wha-“

“I’ve dealt with all sorts of blood before. I’ve seen clickers in front of me, and those shits are nasty. You really think blood like that is gonna bother me?”

Now that he says it, that really doesn’t make sense. His statement lingers in your head for a while before you say something.

“Well- I guess that’s just a reaction I get a lot. My past partners didn’t like the fact that I naturally bled, so they usually made me sleep on the couch.” You admit, looking down at the floor to avoid looking at Joel’s face. He stays silent longer than usual and you look up to see him being shocked.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle.

“That’s fucking absurd? No one should treat you like that, ever. They’re lucky I don’t know who they are.” He says walking to you and pressing his forehead against yours, pinning you down on the couch. A warm, fuzzy feeling enters your heart and you let your left hand trail up to his cheek. Moonlight hits the floor, brightening the living room.

“It’s not that serious Joel.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.

“It’s that serious to me, you’re…you’re human. It’s something that happens naturally, if they don’t like that then you should’ve left them.”

Your gaze at him starts to turn blurry as tears show up in your eyes, you kiss him and he unexpectedly picks you up bridal-style. You squeal out his name and he tells you to ‘shush up’. He gently places you down on the bed.

“Get yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.” The covers of the bed get on top of you and Joel leaves the room.

A few minutes passed, where is this man? you thought, and he walks in the moment you stop thinking.

“U-Uh..H-Here..” you grab a mug out of his hands and embrace the warmth of it.

“What is it?”

“Tea…it’s from a uh..tip that Tess told me that would help with cramps..” Red tints his face, but luckily from the darkness it’s not visible.

“Aww Joel, you didn’t have to do that!” You say as he steps in bed, you take a few sips from the tea and place it down on the table next to the bed. Joel slips more under the bed and fully gets comfortable, and you position to be the big spoon. You arm wraps around his back and you feel Joel kissing your shoulder.

“I love you, don’t let anybody tell you different.”

“Joel…

I love you too.”

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[mockerycrow]

KARMA (Soap x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

soap masterlist

summary; you’re a hockey player, but you’re also johnny’s girlfriend. johnny comes to a realization after watching you get into a fight. 1.2k words!

authors note; this is not exactly what i envisioned, but it’s what i wrote. enjoy :-)

[WARNINGS: reader is implied to be a buff woman, violence, light blood and gore, suggestive content at the end.]

You and Johnny first met at a pub whilst he was on leave. He saw you from across the bar counter, looking up at a TV mounted above the bartender and sipping on something he doesn’t care to remember. What he does remember is you. 

God, Johnny never believed falling in love at first sight and he still doesn’t, but holy hell did you stir something within him. Sitting there, back straight with your eyes glued to the TV, fidgeting with something circular, perhaps a coin, between your fingers. The way your bicep is bulging from the tight circumference of the short t-shirt sleeve… 

Johnny wasn’t sure what exactly prompted him to talk to you, he definitely already came to the conclusion that you were likely going to just turn him away but holy shit, he’s damned if he left without trying to strike a conversation. Johnny ends up tilting his head, downing the rest of his drink for confidence before slipping into the seat next to you.

That day, Johnny learned that you were a pro hockey player for the professional women’s hockey team back in North America. Honestly, Johnny was surprised but more so by the sport and not the fact that you played one. You told him you were visiting someone here in Scotland, a friend—helping them move while your contract was being figured out. The more you talked, the more Johnny assured himself that it was absolutely a requirement to know you on some level. 

Your voice captured his attention, your smile made his stomach tighten and bloom with warmth—even if he couldn’t convince you to go on a date with him, Johnny honestly would be just fine with being only friends. As long as he has a female hockey player in his contacts list, he’d be alright. You find out Johnny likes a bit of hockey himself, mostly paying attention to the international ice hockey federation. After learning that, to Johnny, he could see the way your eyes lit up.

Yes, you did agree to a date with this grinning man. Maybe quite a few dates.

Johnny found himself on his phone way more often whilst waiting with his team to be deployed. Constantly texting you, calling you, the whole nine yards. It earned him some glances and teasing from Ghost and Gaz, even his Captain—but he could tell his boys were happy for him. Johnny seemed more relaxed, laid back instead of his pent up self.

A couple months into the relationship, Johnny was finally able to file for vacation related leave. He was excited—secretly so was Price, as Johnny doesn’t really file for leave often—and you were ecstatic. It took a second to figure out arrangements, at the end of the day you insisted for Johnny to stay with you. Why stay in a hotel room when your spare bedroom is free? He was so reluctant, but you were so insistent with it. 

“I have a practice game in a few hours,” You informed Johnny as you opened your refrigerator, taking out two cold water bottles stuffed somewhere in the door. You let the refrigerator door close by itself, and you tossed one of the bottles to Johnny. “Was thinkin’ you could come and watch?”

Johnny grinned, his lip curling ever so slightly where it exposes his top gum near his canine. “I would love to watch ye practice!” Johnny was enthusiastic with it; he’s being truthful, he’s been wanting to watch you in person. Johnny spent a couple nights binge watching the recorded games you played in on YouTube, which honestly was a slight mistake. You are a good player, great actually—but it always stirs something deep in his gut. Something about you bodying another player, even if it warrants a penalty… Gets him hot and sweaty, honestly.

That’s how Johnny found himself sitting in a seat right by the glass, a few feet away from your team’s bench. Tension filled his veins, making his shoulders rise to ears watching you, your team, and the practice enemy team skate around on the ice. The sounds of shouts, sticks slamming against each other as well as the ice, the collisions are harsh. Johnny’s been watching you for a while, keeping his eyes on that jersey of yours and he’s been noticing you’ve been slamming into this other woman.

Before bringing him to practice, you gave him a rundown of your team's roster, as well as the opposite teams. You overall had good things to say about nearly everyone, a smile on your face as you point to different people’s faces on the league’s website. Johnny watched the way your face contorted when you got to this one woman, though. He understands most beef stays on the ice, but the way you spoke about her? Johnny could tell there was something that remained on and off ice. You told him she’s “female Tom Wilson” which made him wince a bit.

So, when he witnessed you collide with that woman for the third time in one practice match, he wasn’t too shocked to see your gloves fly off. “Holy–” Johnny swears, standing up from his seat. His hands shoot to his head, holding it as he hears shouts and whistles blowing. Your hand is crumpled in the woman’s jersey, both your helmet and hers missing. Johnny’s heart is pounding in his chest, his arms feeling heavy as both you and the woman slam into the glass right in front of him. 

He reaches forward and bangs on the glass, his eyes widening as he watches your fist make contact with her face square in the middle. Johnny winces as he nearly swears that he could hear her nose crunching under the weight of your fist through the glass. He’s not surprised when drops of blood splatter against the glass, but he still yells your name nonetheless. Part of Johnny is worried, knowing you’re against the woman who usually starts and wins fights, but.. You seem to be holding your own just fine.

Your fist pulls back and makes contact with her face over and over, blood smearing and snarls until a couple of your teammates pull you away from her by your arms. Johnny’s eyes are glued to you as your teammates skate you backwards from the woman, following the curve of the arena. The woman is on her hands and knees on the ice, a couple of her own teammates checking on her. Johnny just barely glanced at how there’s a dripping puddle of blood forming underneath her face because he can’t stop looking at you.

A feral snarky look on your face, your nose bleeding and bashed, blood dripping from your nose to your teeth, from your lower lip onto your jersey. Your left eyebrow is torn open and so is your upper lip. There’s blood splattered across your knuckles, which are surely broken open and bruised themselves.

 Johnny hits the glass, his heart pounding but it skips an entire beat when you make eye contact. His breath stutters in his chest and Johnny’s cursing himself under his breath because his job must have caused wires to cross in his brain. 

You look so.. Fucking hell. Johnny feels himself chubbing up in his jeans, a hot shot of arousal shooting down his spine. Your ferality is making his head spin and he shouldn’t be as turned on as he is from the way you spit a mixture of blood and spit onto the ice, being skated away and into the locker room, followed by your team’s medic and an angry coach. 

Johnny presses his forehead against his palms, trying to calm his racing heart, his lewd mind, and his cock.

🏷️; @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @eedwardss @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @live-love-be-unique @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

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[temtamtom]

Please ignore the fact I accidentally posted this and then deleted it okay anyways

These two have had a myriad of personal conflicts over the years. They had a difficult relationship as children and then spent the rest of their adolescence and early adulthood separately. They interacted, of course, and they saw each other as brothers, but that was it. We are related by blood, but I don’t see you as FAMILY family. If that makes sense. But if I had to pick their biggest fight, it would be:

Tl;Dr: Emotions were running high and unchecked after Italian unification, leading to a blow-out fight when Romano announced that he was moving to America for a little while.

I need to provide some context and explain my headcanons, so this might be a long one kjdfgk I hope it makes sense! Also, a warning because my Feli isn't all that canon-compliant ;; but I think he's a bit more accurate to the northern attitudes of the time

There's a common headcanon within the fandom that Romano was entirely against unification and resisted it from the start. I think this is a bit of an inaccurate and an over-simplified perspective. By the early and mid 1800s, there were many instances of uprisings against absolutism in Southern Italy, which strove for more liberal ideals. The revolutionaries wanted a constitutional monarchy, or even a republic. Through their uprisings and the creation of a secret, revolutionary network across the peninsula, revolutionary ideals began to spread throughout and inspire others.

This is of course a gross oversimplification of the history, but I’m bringing this all up to illustrate the idea that Romano was starting to grow tired of the “status quo”, and was desperate for a change. Unification wasn’t necessarily what he had in mind at first, especially when we consider that he and Feliciano were pretty distant at this point in time. However he soon got swept up in the fervor and optimism of the patriots, and he began to believe in their vision. He believed in a future where he could finally be truly independent- free to call the shots and live his life freely without the worry of being tossed around and claimed by other European powers. He believed in a future where, maybe, he could have a family again. To fix what was broken between him and Feliciano. Romano may come across as quite crude, but he’s a very passionate man. Someone who loves and craves so deeply, to the point where his heart/imagination can far outrun him.

So imagine the betrayal felt when he realized that unification wasn’t working in his favour. He was practically discarded, and seen as “lesser than” his northern brother. His brother, who treated him as an oddity, and had an air of moral superiority over Romano. They kept each other at arm's length, as though they were roommates forced to endure the other, rather than two brothers sharing a home. Disillusioned and hurt, Romano felt like a fool for believing in a dream that didn’t come true. 

Feliciano struggled with many emotional grievances, which Romano wasn’t privy to. He lost his long-time husband/partner just a few decades prior, and instead of taking the time to confront the grief, he picked himself back up and turned his attention towards independence and unification. He threw himself head first into uprisings, wars, political negotiations, and rallies- all to achieve this patriotic goal of forming “Italy”, and perhaps to distract himself from the loss (though he won’t admit it). He also thought, maybe foolishly, that his life would get better after unifying with his brother. That he would have a family again, that he wouldn’t feel so alone, that he would love and be loved and they could hold hands and skip happily into a field of sunshine and rainbows and everything would be okay– 

What should have brought them together, they both realized, seemed to drive a deeper wedge between them. The reality was that they were incompatible. They couldn’t stand each other. To Feliciano, Romano was nothing but an uncivilized brute who only complained and never wanted to work, and lived to insult him every day. To Romano, Feliciano was a pompous, stuck-up elite asshole who refused to acknowledge the very real pain and disillusionment of his new, southern citizens. Both brothers felt as though everything- all the blood, sweat, and tears- was just a massive waste.

As you can imagine, it was a VERY tense and unhappy household for many reasons. They began to argue. A LOT. Fights that were far uglier than the scraps they had as children. It got to a point where they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.

It all came to a head, however, when Romano announced that he was leaving. He had his motives, reasonable ones too, but Feliciano didn’t see that. All he saw was his no-good, lazy brother abandoning him and their country after all the effort they put into creating it, leaving him with all the stress and work while he galavants off to America. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The announcement devolved into an explosive fight. Things were said that, to this day, haven’t been fully forgiven. With all the anger and tension, they probably threw in a few good punches as well. Romano eventually left, and Feliciano thought to himself “Good riddance”. However as time wore on, they couldn’t help but think about the other, wonder how they were doing, and reflect on how they parted ways. 

Things were still a bit tense when Romano returned, and they didn’t acknowledge the fight for a while. However, they began putting a bit more effort into rekindling their relationship. It took some time, and it wasn’t an easy journey, but they’re in a much healthier place now than before. They’re glued at the hip, they share everything, they know every little quirk and detail about the other, and they’ve begun to love each other as family (though teasing and head-butting is a common occurrence). 

If you asked them back then if they would go through unification, they would be incredibly iffy. But if you asked them now, they would likely say yes. They wouldn't trade their brother for anything in the world.

[freak-accident419]

we might be dead by tomorrow

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Because everyone seemed to fail him, Derek Danforth decided to call you up to kill Mr. Clay. You are an assassin that had an intimate, yet complicated relationship with Derek in the past, sharing a bittersweet history together. You realize that you’re going against a Beekeeper, and felt obligated to spend one last night with your old lover, as this mission doesn’t guarantee your survival. But you’d do anything for him—even if it meant dying for him.

WC: 4.4k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, unspecified genitals for reader (vague penetration), more plot than porn tbh, cursing, smoking, drinking, mentions of death, slight spoilers for The Beekeeper but nothing too drastic

(A/n: Thank you guys for showing me so much support lately. I hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :) love you all !!)

-

You raised your glass to your lips, letting the rich, smooth liquid of scotch graze your tongue and go down your throat seamlessly after your brief sip.

You look at the man behind the office desk in front of you. It wasn’t like you haven’t seen him in a ridiculously long time, probably just for a couple of months to a year, more or less. But you never got tired of looking at him when you could. He was an incorrigible asshole, but his beautiful, hazel eyes would convey otherwise. He was an immoral, selfish dick, but the way his lips formed into a smile could convince anybody with basic cognition that he was an angel.

The silence was awkward, indubitably because of the complicated past you shared, but the eye contact really wasn’t—if anything, it was subtly bittersweet. And instead of being at his office inside Danforth Enterprises, you were at his office inside his mansion, which already revealed the secrecy and urgency of his request: he wanted you to kill for him again.

“Nobody has a name for this guy, no leads, no info, no nothing, he is off the fucking grid,” he explained to you sternly. “I was gonna make fuckin’… Wallace fix shit up, but his incompetent fucking men keep failing me, so—”

“You’re taking manners into your own hands and your last resort was hiring me? After, like, months of radio silence from me?”

He perked up at your words, then nodded, taking a lazy sip of his drink. “Precisely.”

“Okay,” you nodded accordingly. It was second nature, instantly agreeing to something this morbid, but you were an assassin after all, and Derek had hired you quite frequently in the past to take care of things. It was actually how you two initially met and eventually became intimate through—for a while, at least. “What’re you offering?” You ask, taking a cigarette out from one small box in your pocket.

“One million,” he answered briefly. However, you scoffed in disbelief, which almost immediately gained a perplexed reaction from him. “What?”

“Let’s go over the facts,” you begin, leisurely crossing your legs by resting your ankle onto your other knee. “This guy burned down your thirty million dollar call center. He could’ve definitely been related to the goddamn gas station explosion, killed all the guys you sent, and you were the last to hear from Garnett before he died at the hands of this man.” You took out your lighter and placed the cigarette in your mouth. “This guy is fucking intense. He is out for blood, your blood, Derek. It looks like he’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way, and if that’s gonna be me, I expect a higher fucking payment.” Your voice was slightly raised at the end of your sentence as you lit your cigarette, taking a long drag.

Derek sighed as he realized that you had a point. You always did, actually, in fact, he nearly always obeyed you. It was like you were the only person who could control that firecracker of a man. “Fuck… Fucking fine. Three million.”

You give a smug smile, blowing out the smoke from your drag and letting your cigarette rest between your fingers once you moved it out of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” You tease cheekily, seeing his brows knit in impatience and exasperation. You pursed your lips before asking, “What’s this guy’s deal anyway? Like, what do you know about him so far?”

Derek huffed with agitation. “Fuck, I don’t know, he… He just fucks around with all my shit, apparently he’s a-a fuckin’ beekeeper, and—”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes widen, heart practically racing as you heard those words come out of his mouth. Was it purely coincidental, or…

“What?” He asked as he noticed how exceedingly pale your face went. You never had this expression on your face, at least not in front of him. You were always seen by him as perpetually unafraid, but in this very moment, you seemed to be unusually apprehensive. “Fuck, Y/n, what is it?”

“Did you say he was a beekeeper?” You inquired silently, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the only fucking thing we know about him. Why?” Derek seemed to appear gruff and utterly pissed on the outside, but internally and authentically, he was fundamentally solicitous, especially for you. Why were you, if anything, afraid?

“Yeah, that can’t be a fucking coincidence,” you mumble thoughtfully to yourself as you take an anxious drag from your cigarette. “The Beekeepers is some kind of secret organization, completely off the goddamn grid that consists of professionally trained assassins. And let me tell you, Danforth, these guys are hard-fucking-core. You thought I was terrible? These guys are fucking worse,” you stress, waving your cigarette around as the trail of smoke followed your hand gestures. “If this guy is a part of them, then holy shit, the both of us are dead.”

Derek processes your words, however only growing antsy and disgruntled. “So what? You can handle another fucking cocksucker. I know you, your skills are off the charts.”

“Hey, I know myself more than anybody does, including you. And I know that I have a very advanced skillset, but maybe not as advanced as fucking Beekeepers. Look, Danforth, I will definitely put up a fight, but this man could definitely—”

“Y/n, you’re the best fucking assassin I fucking know, just—just do the fucking job,” he demanded relentlessly, displeased with your insistent, yet assertively spoken doubt.

You glared at him with agitation for a few seconds, before speaking again.

“Five million,” you state bluntly.

“What?”

“Five fucking million, Danforth. If you want me to kill this man, let alone a fucking beekeeper, I expect higher pay,” you argue tactfully.

You sense a sort of irked frustration in him, his face contorted, teeth gritting behind his closed lips, and dark eyes, in which you’ve seen on several previous occasions.

“Goddamnit, Y/n, he’s just another fucking guy! Just, fuck, snipe him if you have to, or whatever,” he insisted tiredly. “You’re the best killer I know. This guy doesn’t have shit on you, just—”

“Danforth, I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’ll come back from this mission alive, so five million or no deal!” You exclaimed, trying to emphasize how dangerous this job would be.

“Jesus! Fuck! Fine!” he conceded aggressively, leaning back in his chair. “Five million it is,” he grumbled.

You feel your eyes soften and your eyebrows relax pleasantly the moment you heard those words. You grinned mischievously, taking another drag from your cigarette. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Derek rolled his eyes in response, displeased by the amount of money he was going to give you just to kill one guy.

“Sure, whatever,” he replies lazily. “I trust you, so whoever—”

You scoffed amusedly, interrupting him. “You shouldn’t,” you say.

“What?” He was extremely baffled as he heard your response.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” you repeat.

“Umm, okay, and why-why the fuck not?” Derek was frustratingly oblivious, too ignorant to comprehend the contentious situation between you two that resulted in a long period of desolated avoidance.

“You are aware that I have tried to kill you, yes?”

A piercing silence.

It was true, unfortunately. Back when you were constantly doing jobs for Derek, an anonymous hire suddenly offered more than $80 million for you to assassinate him. Back then, you were marginally involved with Derek in an intimate setting. You worked for him as his executioner, and soon enough, your charm led to you sleeping together on several occasions and exchanging some sweet kisses and words, alongside the establishment of affectionate pet names. What hurt the most about it was that it was all authentic, his feelings and yours. However, you were weak and selfish and overall blinded with greed. Eighty million was drastically more than any amount you were ever hired with. So you took up the offer to assassinate President Jessica Danforth’s young, foolish son.

You were going to pull the trigger once your eyes locked on the target, but the second you did, you missed, causing severe lockdowns and the anticipated presence of the secret service. And when it all died down, Derek caught you with his own eyes as you attempted to escape, yet shockingly, he let you go. And you barely kept in contact ever again—until now.

“It—It doesn’t matter, Y/n, okay, I don’t see you pointing a gun at my head anymore, so it’s all in the past, alright?” He raised his glass to his lips, drinking the remaining bourbon (he preferred it more than scotch).

“Wh—? Okay, why the fuck are you so calm about it? I tried to kill you, don’t you understand that?” You stressed, continuing to frustratingly watch his nonchalant reaction to you.

He set his glass back down on the table, not even bothering to put it on the actual coaster, which was literally just about an inch away. “It’s because I know you, Y/n. I know that you’re the best fucking assassin I’ve ever hired and you never miss a shot. You’re, like, completely flawless at what you do. And because you’re that perfect at it, it amuses me that you missed when you had such a clear shot at me.” You glared at him as he spoke, plainly vexed.

“You were fucking afraid,” he continued, making you huff in disbelief. “You didn’t wanna kill me. Sure, eighty million seemed promising, but it didn’t live up to the sex and passionate admiration we had for each other. I trust you because I know now that if you were offered all the diamonds and golds in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn’t kill me for any of it.”

You hated how much this was true. You couldn’t kill him if you had the chance. Which was what mainly pissed you off, because he had to be the most annoying, arrogant, egotistical bastard you knew. And yet, you had a soft spot for him. And he had a soft spot for you. You were way too fond of him.

You sigh afterwards, knowing that he was completely right, whether you’d like it or not. “Well… Okay, do you trust me when I say that there is no guarantee that I’m coming back alive—”

“Goddamnit, Y/n, enough about this!” Derek interjected. “I trust that you’ll get the job done—”

“Danforth, I—”

“You know my name,” he snarled. “Use it.”

You groan impatiently, unabashed. “Okay, Derek, well as I said, The Beekeepers is a very elite organization. There is a reason why this guy was able to take down all your men at UDG—”

“It’s because they were fucking incompetent! You, howev—”

“Holy shit, Derek, just shut up for once!” You blurt. “If I don’t make it out alive, then what are you gonna do? Hm?”

“You’re… Y/n, you are going to make it out alive,” he grumbled, tired of your claims.

“Derek, I swear to fucking god—”

“If he fucking kills you, I’ll make sure to rain fucking hell on that bastard and the whole fucking Beekeeper organization itself. Okay?”

And it was clear that he was still so very fond of you.

You gave a slight chuckle, putting out your cigarette on a nearby ashtray. Your hands clasped together in front of you on the surface of the wooden desk, which was also presented in front of him. And so suddenly, Derek placed his hands over yours, lightly grazing the back of your hands and fingers with his fingertips and palms. It was comforting, to say the least, as well as nostalgic.

“I missed you,” you muttered softly, watching the two of your hands fidget with each other, soft, warm skin moving against coarse, cold skin.

“I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, watching your hands on the table until he moved his eyes up to yours.

“You can deny it all you want, Derek, but I’m not going to get out of this alive or untouched,” you say in the silence of the room.

“I don’t want to believe that,” he simply replied, not wanting to accept the clear reality.

“Well, when you see my obituary in the papers, you’re gonna have to,” you articulate softly as his thumb rubs against yours.

He scoffs in disbelief. “As I said, you’re the best assassin I know. You can easily take out this stupid fucking asshole.” You nod modestly. “I’m serious!”

“Derek, are you trying to flatter me?” You raise an eyebrow with a light chuckle, watching his face gradually turn rosy.

“No, I’m—I’m just pointing out the fuckin’ facts,” he claimed.

“Well… Just in case this is going to be our last night together—”

“It’s not.”

“Well, hypothetically, if—”

“It’s not.”

“Derek!” You exclaim, laughing afterwards. “Just… All I want is for us to spend one night together, as if it’s our last. C’mon, Derek… Let me take care of you.”

It took a short while for him to process your proposal, until he gently held onto your hands to bring them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Okay. Fine,” he answered indifferently. However, you knew that he had a soft spot for you.

***

His gentle, soft lips moved with yours as his rough hands gripped your sides tenderly. It’s been months since you’ve been like this with him, extremely vulnerable with each other physically, ever since your attempt to assassinate him caused mere estrangement. Your back was against the cushiony mattress, your hands cupping his face as your tongue began to clash with his, nearly gracefully as the familiarity of his taste burdened your mouth. The nostalgia creeped behind your mind until it penetrated your brain, making you remember all the ways he used to touch you and pleasure you. But in this very moment, he and you were taking your time with each other. To feel the warm, soft skin against fingertips and fingernails that one another missed.

“You should’ve stopped this when I told you to,” you nearly whispered after you pulled away from his lips, while your eyes explored his hazel irises once again.

He seemed to have no care, or at least no reaction, tucking his head down to nip at your sensitive neck, leaving soft kisses along your throat. “My mom probably wouldn’t have won the presidential election without it,” he remarked, lips trailing up from your collarbone to your jaw.

You scoff silently, moving your hands behind his head to tangle his bleached curls in your fingers. “I’m sure she had it all under control. She’s a remarkable woman,” you reply, feeling his lips against yours again, feeling him tug on your bottom lip right before pulling away again.

“Sure, yes, but… you’ve seen the shitty stats… Without the money we earned, she probably wouldn’t be sitting cozy in the damn White House.” Derek was very persistent about his role and reasons for the continuous phishing scam.

“Well… It doesn’t even matter,” you sigh dismally. “You didn’t stop when I warned you, and now look, you’ve got a whole fucking Beekeeper after you.” Your voice was heavy in disappointment and shame. You couldn’t believe that your old lover would possibly meet his demise if you aren’t proficient enough in your mission.

“Y/n. C’mon. We’ve got it all under control,” he affirmed, pressing some reassuring kisses all over your face. “You just have to kill this one dickhead, and things will go back to the way they were.”

Your eyes meet again, feeling your heart race for a split second as you felt utterly captivated by his beauty and concealed love for you. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” you lamented under your breath.

The way his eyes gazed into yours had communicated something you never thought he would ever have: regret. “I know,” he mumbles as you kiss again, a more passionate and accelerated movement that you sensed was becoming intense.

He took off his blazer, throwing it somewhere down on the floor as you discard your jacket. The two of you could barely separate from each other for too long, so you would desperately kiss each time a new article of clothing is removed. You lift off your shirt and Derek goes down on you again to kiss at your neck once more, leaving hickeys on your collarbone and tracing his lips down to your chest. He looks up at you with affection, kissing your lips once again until he would remove his own shirt.

He cradled your face, crashing his lips onto your passionately, instantly moving his tongue with yours through parted lips. “Everything that we had…” you began in a small whisper between ardent kisses. “Was it all real? Or was it just a way for us to…. to blow off steam? To feel something?”

“No, no, no,” he breathed as you could feel his hand sensibly caress your bare sides. “You’re fucking everything to me.”

Essentially, you were terrified. You knew that eventually, you two were going to lose each other. That’s why you were taking time with this, making sure to not take even a millisecond for granted. And deep down, Derek knew that you were right and that there was no certain guarantee that you could kill the Beekeeper. So he cherished this moment with you. Because in the end, he really loves you.

It was never said out loud, but the two of you loved each other immensely. After years of knowing each other, working together, the ‘one-night-stands’ with ‘no strings attached,’ you two fell for each other faster than the bodies that you shot for him. You were practically the only person he could be stable and decent around. It was always seen through abruptly softened eyes at even the smallest mention of your name.

Once you two were completely naked, your bare bodies attached to each other throughout each deep kiss. His hands graciously moved up and down the skin of your waist as your fingers lost itself in his soft hair, bodies radiating warmth against the other.

His eyes locked with yours, and there was some kind of poignant, desperation in them, looking at you as if you were going to disappear the moment he looked away. “Promise me you’ll come back from this mission alive,” he commanded softly in the cold silence of the room.

“I’ve told you already, Derek,” you sigh wistfully. “He’s a few more steps ahead of me.”

There was something almost so pathetic and contradictory about his distraught mannerisms. “Then I give you full permission to abort,” he proposed, “when things get too risky. If you seriously think you’re going to get killed, then forget about the entire fucking mission, forget about me, okay?”

“You know I can’t do that.” You stroke his hair tenderly between your fingertips, pushing his curls away from disorder. “It’s either go with the mission or not at all. There’s no point in getting myself into deep shit just to abort.”

The man sighed as he knew you were right, again. But also… “I don’t care,” he blurts. “I don’t fucking care. You can go as far as you’d like with him, but when shit hits the fan, I need you to at least beg for mercy, get on your fucking knees if you have to. I need you to get out of the situation immediately, Y/n, okay? I can’t lose you. Shit, I can’t fucking lose you, okay, not again.”

Your heart sank.

He really did care for you.

“Do you love me?” You ask quietly.

The hesitation in his response would give the impression that he had to think about your question, but the truth was that he always knew—he always knew the answer. He loved you, indisputably.

“Yes,” he answered silently. Then, with more confidence, “I love you. I love you so much that I cannot afford to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you. I just got you back, you can’t leave me again.”

A small smile appeared at the corner of your lips. “I’m still here, my marmalade,” he shivered pleasantly at your use of your old, affectionate nickname for him. “And I love you too. All of me is here for you. That’s the point of all this.”

After a shared, enamored look, his lips attached to yours, and the two of you couldn’t help but whimper as you felt the aching head of his cock begin to enter you, already stretching you with his size. It wasn’t until his length was pushed fully inside you, making your breath hitch as the warm, complete feeling had sparked bittersweet memories of the two of you doing this together in the past. Most of the times they were faster-paced and rougher. But this? It was all foreignly vanilla to you; this was straight-up making love at its fibrous roots.

Your face was flushed, feeling tingly as he slowly began to move in and out, his hands hooked under your shoulders in a grip as you held his forearms, locking his legs down with your own. He kissed your lips softly, then down to your neck as his thrusts slowly increased, putting all his weight on you as your chests were pressed against each other.

The two of you let out soft moans once every overlapping feeling intensified, breath quickening every snap of Derek’s hips. You moved your hand to the back of his head, tangling his hair in your fingers again as you deepened the kiss, the two of you only parting to breathe.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sinking into you deeper. Your bodies were so close together, nearly merging as you felt each passionate thrust filling you up. “You feel as good as I remembered.” You let his head be buried into your neck as you felt him gently nip the skin, your fingers still wrapped in his curls and you let your eyes rest, completely indulging in the pleasure he offered. “You were right,” Derek breathed softly. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his remark. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t even want you to do this job anymore. If I’m gonna die because I’ll end up not hiring you, then so be it,” Derek husked, continuing to move inside you, making your fleshy walls flutter in exhilaration. “At this point, I’d rather have me die than you.”

You stutter out a quiet moan as you feel his movements quicken. “Damn. The sex is that good?” You joked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He rolled his eyes playfully and snickered lowly. “Yes, the sex is that good,” he reciprocated, mumbling in your lips as he thrusted artfully.

It was like he was no longer selfish with it anymore. Sure, the sex you had in the past with him had equally distributed pleasure, but you would find him focusing on his own release sometimes. However, in this very moment, you could tell that he moved generously and patiently, fucking you carefully—‘fucking,’ however, seemed like a more aggressive approach to describe what was happening, which was plainly the opposite of everything entirely; this was pure lovemaking.

You felt yourself tighten around him as he increases his pace, lips no longer focused on kissing you, but driving the two of you to your release. His cock pushed faster and deeper, in and out, his throat withdrawing stuttered, low grunts and loud, quick breaths. You felt a knot in your stomach, your gut stirring in anticipation. “F-fuck,” he murmured as you felt his hot breath on the side of your face. “Y/n, I’m close.”

Your desperate panting became louder as your legs locked down on his even tighter, threatening to bend further. He lifts his head back up to make eye contact with you, seeing the other’s heated faces and loving gaze. “M-me too, baby.”

He kissed your lips deeply once again, thrusting into you at a rhythm that began to falter, quickening with every soft moan you crooned, repeatedly muttering his name with yearn.

Your cries had crescendoed, hearing desperate, higher-pitched grunts escaping Derek’s pretty mouth, as your bodies stayed warm against each other, building sweat from the intensity’s heat. The sound of skin slapping against skin amplified, wet, squelching noises emitting from each fast action of slipping in and out. You felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure, feeling yourself come closer to your orgasm as your thighs begin to twitch and body begin to ache. It’s almost like you can’t breathe, the way his length fills you up perfectly and caresses your walls sensually.

“D-Derek, I—” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, but you shut them once you feel your lips attached to his. “I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!” You announce, feeling the entirety of your body tense up, already feeling the sensitivity you would feel post-orgasm.

“Hold on, baby, just wait a little longer for me, that’s good, that’s it, fuck,” he breathed frantically, nearly praising your patience and obedience. Derek’s moans becomes louder, practically in unison with yours, and he moaned out your name passionately once the two of you finally came together. Your voice cracks as you call him, hips jolting as you release, feeling yourself become fragile once you clench around him more intensely, back nearly arching in ecstasy. With one last slam of his hips, he came deeply inside you, spilling his warm cum through enraptured and euphoric spurts, making yourself feel entirely filled as his hips remained against yours, cock still utterly inside of you.

The two of you caught your breaths, just to kiss each other again, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Because once all the euphoria slowly died down, you remembered the reality of everything: you or him were going to die at the hands of a compulsive vigilante, and not everything you had together was going to last forever.

His head was buried in your neck, placing lazy pecks on it as the two of you held each other comfortably and safely.

“I just got you back,” he muttered. You were the only person that Derek was the most vulnerable around. “I don’t want to lose you again. Please be careful.”

“You know me,” you reassure softly, disregarding everything you had warned him about. You knew you couldn’t stand a chance against this man. But you’d do it anyway, for Derek. “I’ve killed over fifty men throughout my entire job. I’ve got this.”

Suddenly, he remembered everything you said about the Beekeeper, and how you even doubted yourself and your abilities. “But, you said—”

“Forget what I said,” you interrupt. “I’ve got a real drive to kill him, okay, and that’s you. As long as I have you in my head, he doesn’t stand a chance.” You hated lying to him. But at this point, it wasn’t even about the five million dollars or him hiring you at that; it was about protecting him.

“Are you sure? Because you were very persistent—”

You shut him up with a sweet, deep kiss. “Don’t you worry about it, my marmalade. I’ll take care of it.” You lied straight through your tender, flushed lips that he kissed back.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[lo1k-diamonds]

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 5

“Intimacy was about power, worth, and gain, and I thought that was all there was to it, but… I don’t… feel that way with you.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Falling down the rabbit hole has its perks and consequences.

WORD COUNT: 9.6k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: angst, scars and mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, handcuffs, blood, implied violence, arguing and misunderstandings

A.N. I can't have a fic without Yoongi suffering with my OCs... Again, infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for helping me around the clock and being incredible betas! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

You woke up feeling particularly snuggly, tucked with heavy blankets around you. Normally, that would have made you shake your arms and legs to get free, but this time you didn’t feel compelled to. In your daze, you realized it smelled good, and you didn’t want to leave that cozy cocoon. But then you figured out that your pillow was an arm, and your hand darted under your dress to your knife.

The blade was to his throat before you could even make out who he was. Then, your gears slowly turned as a few strands of his hair shifted across his forehead to his eyes as he languidly woke up.

Yoongi was naked behind you, with one arm under your head and the pillow, and the other wrapped around your middle. You doubted he felt your blade to his windpipe because his perfect skin didn’t have one single wrinkle of worry, not even when he opened his eyes a bit and saw you. Quite the opposite; he stretched without letting go of you as if waking up like that was just another Saturday, and you chuckled.

“I fell asleep,” you admitted, more to yourself than him, as you put the knife away. You didn’t do that; that was not your thing.

“Good. How do you feel?”

His raspy voice gave you goosebumps, and you turned your face the other way, giving him your back again. You shouldn’t feel this safe and relaxed, there was no such thing. But he was a cop, so if not with him, then with who?

You sighed. He was a goody two shoes; of course, he’d ask you about your well-being.

“Better than ever, ready for another one.”

He hummed and adjusted his head on his pillow, not coming closer, and you pouted and pretended to stretch so you could fall back into him.

You grinned, “And so are you, it seems.”

You rubbed your ass against his crotch shamelessly, smiling as you expected him to push you off and tell you to leave. 

But he sighed, “It’s okay, it will go away.”

Your lips pursed instantly. You didn’t want his hard-on to fizzle out, you wanted him hard and crazy to have you. You wanted him to fight the urge to have you and pretend to be all lawful when in reality, he was dying to stick it in a mob boss like you.

You spoke quietly, “I don’t want it to.”

He didn’t move behind you, and you wondered if he had heard you as you hadn’t admitted it too loud. When you thought to turn your head to check and show your pout, his arm around you moved. Your protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back because he didn’t move away. Instead, his hand landed on your hip softly, resting between the cover and your dress for a moment as if to allow you to slap it away.

You didn’t, and he continued slowly. He palmed down your leg where he could reach before returning, feeling your stomach and side almost respectfully. It made you wiggle in his arms, a little restless, but as your head fell back, you felt him. He was right behind you, instantly nuzzling you through your hair, taking you in. It was the most intimate moment you had ever lived — a singular palm on your lower stomach keeping you close, while he breathed in the sweet scent of your hair. You probably still had some concussion-related dizziness, but you doubted it was just that. Your body was melting, captivated by his gentle nature in a way you didn’t know could entice you.

But it did because the moment he moved to touch the skin of your neck, you let him. You sighed with the flutters his fingertips left behind and pressed yourself more to him when he reached your collarbones. At that moment, you completely surrendered to his touch, hoping he wouldn’t stop. Hoping he would see the barriers you always held up and ignore them, finally reaching you. 

His fingers were gentle, almost shy when tracing the sleeve of your dress, but a longing sigh of yours was enough. His pointer pulled it the slightest, letting it loose over your shoulder, and you pulled the same shoulder back into him, telling him to go on. 

You didn’t hide how eager you were for his touch; when the sleeve got stuck on your arm, you bent forward so he could access the dress zipper, and helped him get both sleeves off.

Only then did your breath get caught as he traced the marks down your arms. Usually, you covered them with make-up or clothes, and otherwise, you didn’t let anyone see them. The slightest discomfort prickled you, confronted with the scars and memories of things you didn’t want to relive, but then Yoongi moved on. He moved over the cigarette burn scars your father gave you as if they weren’t worth his time, and it brought tears to your eyes.

Instead, he traced every inch of your skin down your sides and to your front, touching your chest when you eagerly got rid of your bra too. His lips met your shoulder, and you knew he could see your naked body as you trembled under his touch, but it didn’t bother you. He was gentle, admiring you, but grazing his nails and pinching your hard nipples too.

You jolted into him, arching your back, and it felt like the dress was smothering, preventing you from chasing everything fully. So you pulled it down your legs and sighed when his heated skin glued to your back and ass, spooning you in his embrace.

His lips brushed the skin under your ear, then nibbled and licked your ear, and you squirmed into him. He wasn’t in a hurry, as if taking his sweet time was the full experience, but you were impatient by nature. 

You called for him eagerly, “Yoongi…”

And in arching your back to make yourself as accessible as possible, he got your message loud and clear. He grabbed the flesh of your outer thigh to lift it, then aligned himself with you and imposed a rhythm on your hips. You groaned, your head falling back as you let him completely maneuver you on his dick. It was even better than if it had been you, much slower, too. It was as if he wanted you to take every detail of him connecting with you, forcing your warm heat to take him while his other arm held you to his chest.

It felt like nothing ever had, and you couldn’t wrap your derailing train of thought around it. His embrace kept you tucked in, flush to his firm chest, while his hand made you wail with every slap of his hips to your ass by supporting your hip. You didn’t know you liked it up close and personal like this; hell, you didn’t even think you’d like to relent control over yourself like this. But the more he made your hips sway so you’d fall perfectly against him, the more you conceded that you liked it—a lot.

Every time his big hand pulled you back, you anticipated the feeling of his thick cock pushing through your walls, and even more when he reached deep. Surely, he did it on purpose because suddenly, every time he filled you, you could feel the kiss of his tip to your cervix, making you keen. Yet even if you writhed, he didn’t let you get away, making you fall into him even harder, and nibbling on your neck for good measure.

You were so hot, your brain was overheating. Strands of your hair glued to your forehead while your hands tried to hold on to anything between the sheets, pillows, and his arms, both wanting him to fuck you so much harder and so much slower before the fire starting in your core had time to catch up with you.

He must have realized your desperation, because he groaned and suckled the skin behind your ear, between sticky strands of hair, right before his hand abandoned your hip to disappear between your legs.

You jolted when his fingers began tracing circles on your eager clit, and for a moment, you lost track of reality. You squirmed in his arms, waves of hot pleasure making it hard to breathe and comprehend what was happening. The pressure on your clit made you throb around him, but it wasn’t enough. His hips had slowed, not reaching as deep without his guiding hand, and you were left in limbo.

“Come on,” he whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t decide if it was sweet or a taunt.

Regardless, you started fucking yourself on his cock, whimpering with how his fingers complemented your feverish movements. You couldn’t see how hungrily he was looking at your whole body trembling, searching for pleasure in his arms, but you could feel the way you were melting down his dick, making his fingers slide easily while he breathed heavily near your ear.  You couldn’t breathe, afraid that something as simple could stop your looming climax. Still, passionate whimpers left your lips every time you sank down, desperately needing his cock so deep inside you.

Yoongi was normally quiet, so feeling his heavy breathing on your neck was enough for you. Still, when he spoke, it electrified you, “Squeeze them— Let me see—”

His raspy voice made you clench hard, the thought of playing with your tits for him to see pushing you the extra mile. You didn’t let go of that new current and instantly let go of the sheets to grab your tits and squeeze them.

Your moan pitched to a wail and he pushed himself deeper inside you, “Fuck—”

His low voice made you shiver from head to toe and you came with a strangled moan, arching your back when he restarted fucking into you harder, even as he rubbed your clit to make your orgasm last.

He probably loved the way you were throbbing and crying, and you adored the desperate way he was sheathing himself into you until he popped, twitching in a perfect kiss to your cervix that made you scream.

Yoongi drove the late streets of Seoul with a sense of ease. He wasn’t much for sentimentalities, but he did think that was an easy road to remember if it ever came to that.

He supported his head on his hand while he waited for the light to turn. He wasn’t upset with you, just worried. Waking up next to you the day before was a pleasant surprise in many ways; maybe it was the same for you. You had been clearly startled, but the way you let go and let him touch and see you for the first time was incredible.

In the afterglow of your bodies trembling together, you let him hug you and touch you to his heart’s content, and as it turned out, it wasn’t easily content. He traced your sweaty body from head to toe, starting with his nose buried in your hair and ending up massaging your toes sometime later. He especially saw the scars on your arms but didn’t mention them. As a cop, he had seen marks of violence often, and those in particular evoked parental abuse. He didn’t know much about you, but he could guess your childhood hadn’t been easy.

You asked him about showering and he pointed to the ensuite bathroom, but then you raised your arms, waiting to be carried. He had heaved a deep breath but he wasn’t as annoyed as he thought he’d be. Instead, he picked you up and carried you into the walk-in shower, staying with you in a wordless embrace while the water poured down on you both.

He could admit he got carried away, too relaxed in your presence to think about what you two were doing. Even when you kissed slowly with the splash of water falling over your shoulders, when he pushed you gently to the wall, or when he grabbed your hair to keep you close, you didn’t protest for a second. You grabbed his waist, kissed him back, and accompanied him through every sensation.

Then, you smiled and said you were thirsty, and when he suggested getting you something, you said you’d do it yourself. He knew then you’d be gone once he got out of the shower, but he stayed quiet. He’d never insist that you stay; you didn’t know each other, and it didn’t make sense.

But he couldn’t help his worry, his vagrant thoughts, and a deep, hidden urge to check if you were alright. So there he was, stopped in front of the gate of your house, facing the camera while he waited for whoever worked for you to decide if he could get in. Even though he had your number and knew you were looked after by attentive staff. Even if it was none of his business.

“I’m opening it,” said a dry male voice through the speaker, and Yoongi only held onto the steering wheel, looking ahead.

He didn’t know what to tell you. He stopped the car in front of your garage, got out, and mindlessly walked to the open front door. In the back of his mind, he was getting worked up. What would he tell you? You’d ask what he wanted, but he had nothing to ask. You’d tease him for looking for you, for not getting enough, and he couldn’t deny it without lying to your face, so what the hell could he say?

Your butler guided him upstairs, someplace he had never been but couldn’t really pay any mind to. Not until a big mahogany door opened suddenly and all he saw was a large king-size bed in the back before being grabbed by your hand and pulled in.

You didn’t speak; just kissed him and touched him like you were starving, and fucked him like it too. He felt the sting from scratches you left on his shoulders the whole day, shuddering at the memories of the moans they came with.

He thought that was a one-time thing; you had casually told him you were fine and had work to do, and he didn’t raise objections. He got dressed, left, and kept his thoughts to himself, glad you were feeling better and didn’t ask anything more.

But the next day, you showed up at his place sometime before midnight. He was startled, seeing you on his couch when just minutes before it was empty. He was about to ask you how it was that you got inside his house so easily in the few minutes it took him to take a leak, but you were not in a sharing mood. You reached to unbutton his pants and not a lot of talking was involved in what followed.

It never was; you two didn’t really talk, but you did other things. You saw each other every day, taking turns going to the other’s house, and there was a lot of moaning and sweating, but not a lot of words exchanged 

Every day, he wondered if that would be the day you wouldn’t be home, or if you wouldn’t visit. But as the days became weeks, it became a routine he got used to way too easily. He gave you the benefit of being consistent, always showing up at 10 PM so you had the rest of the night to work on your endeavors. Unfortunately, you didn’t give him the same grace, but you had other perks — like always having a drink with him, a tease, or simply a goodnight kiss that always left him bittersweet about parting ways.

He refused to think about any of it too deeply. Who you were, what you did; how whatever you two were doing would be perceived. How a few enemies would love to learn about you, and vice versa. Not to mention he wanted your moments together to last, not to just turn his back and walk away. 

But as time went on, all those thoughts became sidenotes. There had been no rumors or talk about a possible affiliation between the two of you, your work hadn’t intersected, and he now had good whiskey and gin at his place so he could offer you a drink whenever you visited him, too.

It all turned on its head when you didn’t show up one night. Of course, you were never consistent — sometimes you showed up right after dinner, sometimes in the early hours of the morning. Still, he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t ask about you directly, so he activated his radio and kept an ear on the police transmissions while drinking one glass after another in his office, just waiting.

The first rays of dawn were kissing the sky when you opened the door to his office. You found him on his chair, staring at the ceiling with the broadcast still on, wearing his coat as if he was ready to storm out. The dark circles under his eyes and a half-drunk bottle of liquor on the desk made you smile and lean on the door frame.

“I chose the right night to be late. You’re still working?”

Yoongi didn’t answer you; he didn’t even comment on your long, red dress. The cocktail party you attended had lasted beyond your wishes, making it hard to call it a night. You thought it would be worth it in the end because at least Yoongi would see you in that dress and tell you how beautiful you looked, as usual. But he was quiet, and you pouted.

He took the glass in his hand to his lips to finish the last traces of liquor before brushing his lips absentmindedly, and you stepped toward him without hiding your pout.

“Am I interrupting?” You perched yourself on the desk in front of him so he’d give you all his attention instead. “You knew I—”

He got up suddenly, slamming the glass on the desktop next to you before pulling your legs around him in a smooth motion, “You’re late.”

You opened your mouth, confused by his annoyance when you were the one entitled to being annoyed, but his mouth on yours shut you up. The way he kissed you was hungry, eager, not letting you settle for one second, not even to breathe. You moaned into his mouth, loving those deep, tongue-tied battles you always had, especially with the smoky whiskey taste coming from him.

The more he pressed you to him and ravished your mouth, the more you wanted to laugh euphorically and tease him endlessly. You thought he’d be too busy to be with you, but he seemed just as eager as you to call it a night and forget about the world.

He moved to kiss your neck, and you managed to smirk, but your words died on your tongue. His fingers went under your dress, searching your core while he got himself free of his pants. You shuddered and kept him close, listening attentively to his groan when he found out you didn’t have panties on.

“Took them off in the car,” you whispered in his ear, nuzzling him. “Don’t need them here.”

You knew he agreed because in seconds he was pushing himself through your entrance, invading your warmth as he had done so many times. You whimpered and he held onto you more firmly, pulling you flush to him so his cock filled you to the brim.

Your chin dropped, as did your eyelids, the pleasure relaxing you instantly to build a familiar lull of pleasure. He moved between your legs, and you helped him, grabbing onto his shoulders, and piercing your nails through his coat when he started speeding up his thrusts.

“Is this what I get for being late?” You said, with the tension making your tone harsh. “Might just start doing it more often just to get you to fuck me like this.”

His hand on the back of your neck instantly shifted to grab your hair by the roots, making you look him dead in the eyes. His harsh gaze was enough for you to know he didn’t want that, and your lips twitched in a small smile before they had to contort to moan from the pleasure rippling through you. You also preferred to be on time, especially to be with him.

It was hard to rebut he had grown attached to you. He knew what it looked like but it wasn’t that; he was genuinely worried about you and at ease whenever he saw you.

Still, he wasn’t delusional — he didn’t expect anything from you and had to remind himself that you were a free woman. If the day came when you didn’t show up or kicked him out, he could do nothing but accept it.

However, he found himself deeper in your life with every passing day. He had fucked you all over your house; hell, even on the stairs, despite the people that could see you if they passed nearby. Your office was your favorite, so it wasn’t strange to find you there.

Still, your frown was, and also that you didn’t stop to welcome him with a sly smile. On the contrary, you gripped your hair after noticing him, then threw a look at the cabinet holding the liquor before turning back to your paperwork.

“You’re tense,” he commented as he poured you both drinks.

“No kidding,” you bit out, before sighing into your chair.

He neared you with the drinks and placed both down, deciding to massage your shoulders first.

You opened your mouth in surprise before a low groan escaped your lips. His slender fingers pushing at the flesh under your neck was fucking divine.

You kept sighing and occasionally whimpering under his ministrations and he never asked what was wrong. You liked that but thought it wouldn’t hurt to bring it up.

“One of my clients detected a gap in his numbers,” you started quietly. “He’s accusing me of fucking up, and I was ready to tell him to fuck off, but he’s right.” You sighed with pleasure tinged with anxiety. “Something is up between my numbers and his, and I’m stuck. I can’t risk getting on his bad side, not after… playing it risky a few months back.”

You didn’t face Yoongi as you spoke, but he could tell none of your uneasiness was from talking to him. Quite the contrary, you weren’t as agitated because it was him. Because he had his hands on you. He found it endearing, even if he knew what you were talking about surely involved the money laundering he secretly knew you had going on.

“If we’re talking numbers, then maybe it’s something you can get to the bottom of,” he started quietly, with a low, steady voice. “Those things leave paper or digital trails and you know who the intermediary is.”

You frowned slightly, “I trust them.”

“Then maybe your client is trying to fuck you over.”

You spun your chair to look at him as if you just had a thought, then you got up and grabbed your phone. “Sit.”

He knew that to question you was a waste of time, so he sat on the office chair and you sat on his lap. You proceeded to have an extensive conversation on the phone, the content of which was lost on him. If not because the details eluded him, then because you kept rubbing your ass on his crotch and it was distracting. 

He knew you felt his boner, but making him crazy was only an afterthought; a kick while you took care of things. The conversation must have been going well because you didn’t take long to slide your underwear down your legs, staying with your ass up over the desk, waiting for him to get his dick out.

As soon as you heard his zipper, you sat back, counting on him to aim his cock where it needed to go. You were so warm and tight, that he almost groaned, but it was your silence that got to him. He didn’t care if you were on the phone, you were never silent when you took his dick.

He brushed your long hair aside and bit the back of your neck in retaliation before letting it go. You slid up and down his shaft at your leisure, coating him handsomely, even if your voice was steady on the phone. At that point, he couldn’t care less; he had all the evidence he needed that you were feeling good, maybe even better than usual. Maybe you liked holding a conversation while pretending you weren’t riding his thick cock. He was tempted to challenge you, but you were stressed already; he’d rather give you a good time.

The moment you put the phone down, your motions changed, riding him fast, pressing yourself down his cock so hard he could feel his tip hitting your cervix the moment you came. You were breathless with tiny moans, the electrical discharge through your body making you tremble on his lap. He knew all the signs already, so he knew that orgasm was tainted by your stress and didn’t leave you fully satisfied.

He didn’t oppose you getting up and checking your phone. He stayed put, looking down at his creamed hard cock, stiff in the air, knowing he just had to be patient.

And indeed, a moment later you grinned and threw your phone on the desk like you were done. You grabbed the drink he had prepared earlier, handing him his own with a crooked smile, “Aren’t you the juiciest throne I’ve ever seen.”

He took the glass to his lips, unable to hide the twitch of his shaft at your comment. 

You chuckled, “Is that an invitation? Cause I’ll gladly take it.” He finished his glass, ready, and you smirked, “Come along, then. Because of your advice, I’m done with work for now, and I’m in the mood to keep riding you in my bed.”

He got up, fumbling with his clothes, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can have a smoke after, I don’t want to wait.”

He was trying to hide his dick, even if he knew it was fine, but now he was worried. He felt all his pockets, then groaned, “Fuck, I forgot them.”

You raised your eyebrows; that was a first. “Don’t worry, I’ll ask Sooyong to get some.”

You left the room and all he thought was that you were the perfect woman, right before shaking his head and chastising himself. One addiction was enabling the other, that was all.

It didn’t take long to find himself naked on your bed, loving every second of you edging him and enjoying yourself on his lap. He didn’t know if it was to celebrate you finding a way to deal with your problem, his help, or just a normal Tuesday night, but it mattered little when you were on top of him like that.

He realized later it did matter when you put your clothes back on, walked out, and came back in with your phone, a pack of his favorite cigarettes, and a huge smile when you threw yourself next to him.

“You were right. My client doesn’t know I have people on his team, and guess what? He asked someone to make it look like shit was missing,” you smirked, then threw your phone on the nightstand and opened the pack. “Now I have proof that he fucked it, so I can keep him in line.” You put a cigarette between his lips and lit it up yourself. “There you go…” Your voice was tender, but your smile was cunning. “Gotta keep you around for the next time I need advice.”

That was the start of the two of you talking. Yoongi didn’t think it would go anywhere — a criminal and a cop; what was there to talk about?

But as it turned out, there was a lot. Both were careful to keep sensitive information and names out of the equation, but it was surprisingly easy talking to each other about work. If Yoongi complained about a case, you were aware of it. If you were frustrated with some politician being stupid, he knew exactly what you meant. You stayed away from each other’s turfs, but you started talking more and more, to the point that a part of your rendezvous was dedicated to sharing the latest developments and venting frustrations.

Going to your place at 10 PM was the norm, and you not being there was not necessarily something to be worried about. Especially, because he could hear the shower going in your ensuite bathroom when he got to your room, so he got comfortable. 

He was getting rid of his tie and coat on a nearby sofa when he saw clothes fallen to the floor beside it and picked them up. Instantly, his fingers touched something wet but tacky, and the ferrous smell hit him before he saw the blood. He didn’t have to think twice; the clothes were yours and he had to make sure you were safe.

He dropped the clothes on the floor, pulled his pistol from the holster of his belt, and stepped silently to your bathroom, but you came out in time, wrapped in a towel and smiling widely when you saw him.

“Hi! I was just freshening up,” you got close and laced your arms around his neck, completely dismissing the gun in his hand. 

He eyed behind you quickly before cupping your cheek to make sure you were truly relaxed and safe. Then he put his pistol safely back in the holster and pulled you closer by the waist.

“What do you want to drink tonight?”

Yoongi hummed, but he couldn’t focus on your question. “Who was it?”

His voice was quiet as he motioned the clothes with his chin. Not because he couldn’t ask; after months of sharing your life, bed, and thoughts daily, he could. But because there were lines, and one of them was you being in danger.

“It’s not mine,” you smiled, but it fell when you realized that wouldn’t be enough for him to drop the issue. “Just…” You started and your split second of silence told him something was up. “Some guy causing a ruckus in the city… Saw it on TV and thought I should intervene. Law-abiding citizen and all,” you grinned mischievously before spreading your hands over his shoulders and chest in a familiar gesture.

He blinked; TV news channels had started reporting on a case of his department recently. Notably, of a politician dragging Yoongi’s work through the mud.

“You mean Myung Seojun?”

“Well,” you pursed your lips, tracing his collarbones attentively for a second. “He might have been involved,” you said, raising your eyes with a hint of uneasiness, but mostly with challenge. The latter won completely because you raised your hands to his neck, “Nobody messes with what is mine.”

He saw something in your eyes that only made him hold onto you harder. It was in moments like those, he trusted you infinitely more, not just to keep his secrets and have his back, but to feel for him something close to what he felt.

Not that you ever spoke about that. You could as easily fuck all night or day long, or talk about the problems rooted deeply in the governmental system, but what you two were effectively doing was never a topic of conversation.

Still, there was that one time you told him you had never been with anyone like this. “All my life… I’ve seen it as a transaction.”

Your voice was quiet as you rested on his chest, still hot and sweaty from the long hours you’d been together. He was smoking a cigarette from the pack you had in your room just for him, and you were in a contemplative mood.

“Intimacy was about power, worth, and gain, and I thought that was all there was to it, but… I don’t… feel that way with you.”

You said it quietly, almost shyly, nuzzling his chest, and he put his cigarette down on a tray by your bedside table, holding you closely while making sure you faced him.

“It doesn’t have to be like that. I don’t want that,” he rasped, brushing your cheek in a caress. He wasn’t even nervous, despite this moment being one of the most vulnerable you two had ever shared. Still, because you were giving him something from deep within, he thought he should do the same. “I never thought I’d be intimate with someone like this. Not after my ex,” he said dryly, and seeing the glint in your eyes, he added, “Not until I met you.” His finger brushed a few strands of hair out of your eyes looking up at him, “I thought I didn’t want it. Our marriage was a disaster, and it was true I didn’t get it up. I just… didn’t want to.” He heaved a sigh, “She couldn’t understand what I do, or what I worry about. The way the work consumes our lives.”

You hummed, “Or maybe she wasn’t dangerous enough.”

He chuckled, “Maybe. Maybe I got myself the perfect storm now: dangerous, beautiful, smart, and knowledgeable about what matters to me. About what I need.”

Your eyes stayed big and glistening on his, and he didn’t push for an answer. He kissed your nose and forehead and leaned back down, wondering quietly if you had understood what he was trying to say.

He thought you might have because things were different at his place the next night. You never let him forget he worked for the right side of the law, constantly teasing him about his handcuffs. He had let you use them on him before, so that night when you asked for the same, it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But the way you asked him more questions as you had him cuffed to his bed was different, “Aren’t you scared of what I might do? I could do anything to you. Things you don’t like, ruin your life, fuck— take it, I could kill you.”

He nodded, “I trust you.”

Your eyes were glistening differently, but you started kissing him and didn’t stop until you were both exhausted, winded, and spent over his sheets. You released him and slept next to him, hiding in his embrace while he smoked, and wondered if there was more he could do to make you feel safe.

He didn’t expect to wake up the next morning to you asking him to put the handcuffs on you.

You looked scared, with wide eyes and trembling fingers, and he shook his head, “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“But I want to,” you insisted, grabbing his hands despite your nervousness. “Because I trust you too. I want to know what it feels like.”

He was hesitant, but at the same time felt responsible. He didn’t trust anyone else to be with you and respect and care for you like he did, so he agreed.

He asked questions, explained how you would do it safely, and tried to tell you his plan, but you stopped him, “I don’t want to know. I trust you to do this.”

Despite your watery eyes, your smile moved the foundations of his heart in unspeakable ways. You presented your wrists so that he’d cuff them, and he did. Then, he took you in his arms and kissed you with all the passion lodged inside his heart.

He, too, could do anything to you, but there was only the desire to do good. To treat you with tenderness and show you how deeply he felt for you.

The possibility of it being a mistake never crossed his mind. He couldn’t stop kissing you, adoring you with every touch, immediately immersed in his need to show you something he couldn’t normally do. Something he couldn’t explain in words or ask you about. He could show you, though. Show you what happened when someone’s heart was in it like his was.

He laid you down, glued to every inch of you, between your legs, then slipped your cuffed hands over his head to rest on his neck so you’d have support. Then, he entered you and, staying close like that the whole time, made love to you while you breathed in each other’s grunts and moans.

“I’m here,” he rasped, so close to your skin, it was muffled. He couldn’t stop showing you his heart, whether with his hips or words, “You have me. You’re mine.”

He could see in the way you were keening, face scrunched with everything happening, that you were as deep in it as he was. You kissed him back, moved with him, sighed with every reassurance, gripped his hair, and came with him so intensely that he thought you would pass out. But then you kissed him deeply, and his heart settled right there with you.

You two never spoke about it, but you didn’t need to. As long as everything stayed perfect like that, Yoongi would never be the one to push you. Just like it had happened so far, you’d come to him when you were ready.

He had completely forgotten about the case he was building on you until you said something that reminded him.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You were having snacks on his bed since you were feeling particularly hungry tonight, while he sat on an armchair just resting after a hard day.

He nodded, “I do, but I bet you don’t.”

You grinned, “Wasn’t it when your boss was trying to get a warrant to search the Aether? Only to come in person to tell me my name had been forged into some incriminating documents, so he apologized for chasing me?”

He blinked, “I’m surprised you remember me. I was just an officer then.”

You nodded and hummed with sour candy stuffing your mouth. “You were quiet but had this look. Like you could see right through me.” 

You mused, reminiscing, and he kept observing you. He was young and naive, but there was something about you that put everything into perspective. Beautiful women really could be dangerous. 

“And then you went on to build a case on me of your own,” you laughed unabashedly. “I’m flattered.”

His stomach fell at that moment, barely hearing you when you went on to say you were happy he didn’t pursue you too hard. It allowed you to grow this big, and you much preferred him now, a seasoned chief.

“It’s just funny to think our paths intertwined so long ago… I never thought we’d end up here.”

Your tone had a hint of tension, but he was inside his head, so he just nodded. This wasn’t right. He had long since come to terms with who you were and what you did. What he had on you… he had to get rid of it before someone got wind of it.

Suddenly, you scrunched your nose and got up, “I need to use the bathroom.”

He nodded again absentmindedly but didn’t waste any time. He went straight to his office and searched all the drawers and files until he found the one with your name. Then, he emptied a metal trash can on the floor and set your file on fire with a lighter, dropping it in to be safe.

The door creaked, and his eyes snapped up. You looked a bit pale but otherwise carefree with a long white shirt of his covering your naked body. You did it frequently when you wanted to be comfy, even if sex wasn’t involved.

“What is it?”

You neared him, eying the fire curiously, and he wrapped an arm around you, “Nothing, just getting rid of something.”

He pressed his lips to your head while you both watched it burn quietly, and you held onto him. It was better this way.

“Want something to drink?” You smiled, knowing your way around his cabinet like it was yours.

He nodded, then noticed you only poured one glass, “And you?”

You grimaced a little before passing him the drink, “My stomach is a bit upset.” He took the drink with a hum, and you sat down on his chair. “The commissioner general is retiring.”

Yoongi nodded, then leaned on the desk behind him. The faint burning scent matched the whiskey he was drinking. “Yeah, people are moving. I think I’ll stay in the same position.”

You nodded, “And the new commissioner?”

“Nothing official yet.”

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he wasn’t taking the bait to talk about it, but his mind was elsewhere, figuring if there was a digital trail he needed to get rid of quickly to keep you safe.

He visited you the next day and went straight to your office, as told by your butler, only to find documents on your desk about Jimin.

He was instantly reeling, puzzling it all together and getting infuriated as a result. You must have been the one to frame him; the dates on the files were from back at the start. Why else would you have a file on him? What the hell were you planning? He could forgive many selfish things you had done, but if you touched any of his officers, that would be too far.

You showed up at your door wiping your mouth with a faint smile, “Sorry, I had to rush—”

“What is this?” 

He didn’t let you finish and pointed at your desk, and your features tensed. He couldn’t even notice you were the color of your white shirt; he was getting rattled by the silence.

“It’s a file.”

“On Officer Jimin,” he pointed out.

“On many different people.”

“Why would you have this?”

“Because he’s a part of it.”

“Yeah, we both know what he was a part of!” He almost stepped toward you but refrained, closing his fists. “Did you do it?”

You frowned, “Do what?”

“Frame him? Was it you all along?”

“No,” your features were neutral as you stepped closer to him to reach the files.

But he grabbed your wrist, “Tell me the truth.”

“I am,” you faced him, emotionless, while he attempted not to erupt like a volcano. “He was a byproduct of something bigger. He’s a small file amongst everything else.”

You spread the files on your desk to prove your point, and he let go of your wrist. There were codes and names, but a few photos stood out: Jimin, Junghee, and someone he never thought would be mixed up in there.

He pulled that photo out, “What the hell?”

You grinned bitterly, “Jae Seong Seok.” Your voice had no amusement, “Our up-and-coming commissioner.”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, quickly backtracking. He couldn’t confirm because he had burned his file on you the day before, but he remembered that one name from your log.

“What the hell is going on?”

Your expression retained a sourness, “He’s a tricky client, so I keep a record of everything he does. He wasn’t happy when he found out I had a hand in exonerating Officer Park, and now that he’s becoming the new commissioner, I kind of need to cover my ass.”

You sat on your chair with an unfriendly expression, massaging your stomach while he connected the dots. “Why do you need to? If he’s your client, you have things on him too. And what the hell did he do that involved Jimin? And Junghee?”

He was confused and you sighed, “People like him can get to anyone, even me. Even if he had to resign due to a scandal, he wouldn’t spend his life in jail, trust me. Between the national embarrassment of him going to jail or just me taking the brunt of it, trust me, your beloved system would bend backward to keep him clean.”

His heart was thrumming in his chest as he eyed your hardened features. You were right about that much at least, but he needed to understand. “Just tell me what this has to do with Jimin and Junghee.”

You heaved a deep breath and hesitated to tell him. There was a reason you never did, it would only complicate things. But you could see in his face that he was suspecting you instead, and it pissed you off.

“There’s a reason I didn’t tell you, and it’s not because I’m the one who did it.” 

Your gaze was ice-cold from the need to protect yourself from the impending hurt while your stomach was twisting inside you, leaving you exhausted. You’d been sick for a while, and now was the worst time to do this. 

“So just tell me now,” he asked, and you noticed at least his fists were gone.

You took a deep breath, “Officer Junghee was a dirty cop. Not by working with people like me, mind you, but with Jae Seong Seok. Whatever he needed to be done, Junghee would make it happen, as far as I understood.”

“That’s a lie.”

Yoongi’s instinct to protect his officers didn’t surprise you, “Funny how after almost two decades of service, he never moved up the ranks? Even funnier how he bought an apartment in Yeouido. Did you know? Left his widow and children very well set for a lowly cop with a shitty wage.”

Yoongi frowned, “He must have… You don’t know what other ways he—”

“Ah, that’s the thing about my line of work,” you interrupted blatantly, leaning in to speak almost venomously. “It’s my fucking job to know.” The bitterness of your stomach reached your mouth, but you continued, “The fucker went on expensive vacations yearly, you’d think he’d at least not parade his wealth, but that’s the thing about people that gain wealth and don’t know how to handle it — they get used to a certain lifestyle that’s hard to accommodate.”

This time, he stayed quiet. He could remember Junghee going on vacations, smiling at how his kids were entering good universities. Heck, the whole department celebrated when he bought a house, though he never said it was in Yeouido.

“Enter our beloved Jae Seong Seok, who wanted to get rid of him. My guess is that Junghee was demanding payment to keep his mouth shut, and that won’t do. Upcoming election and all.”

Your tone was so cynical, he could taste your bitterness in his mouth.

“I heard about the word to eliminate Office Junghee. Jimin was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Yoongi swallowed, then gripped his hair for a moment before facing you again, “They were chasing a car. That night, the two of them. One of your cars.”

You rolled your eyes, “My cars aren’t always mine. Did I know Ray? Sure, the fucker is a weasel. But he wasn’t working for me when he did that.”

“Ray? You knew who did this?!”

He raised his voice again, and you sighed, “What does it matter? Your boy was exonerated.”

“But the real culprit is on the loose! I don’t care if Junghee was dirty, his killer can’t be allowed to roam free!”

You leaned forward to pull a file from the messy pile to the top, “Read it.”

He leaned in and skimmed over the content, noticing quickly he was deceased, dating not long after Junghee died. The cause of death was drowning, but there was no more information than that. It was likely you knew by word of mouth otherwise there would be more. The photo matched the figure seen in the video that helped Jimin, so he didn’t have questions.

He heaved a deep breath, “Okay, but how can you be sure of the connection between Junghee and Jae Seong Seok?”

You dragged your chair forward, typed a password, and then an encrypted code on your search bar. It opened footage of a parking lot surveillance camera, and Yoongi almost choked. Junghee was in uniform escorting Jae Seong Seok to his car. The two spoke closely before an envelope passed hands. Yoongi kept his eyes on the screen until the Chief Superintendent General got inside the car and left, and Junghee counted the money in plain sight before leaving as well.

Then Yoongi groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“Again, your Officer was just collateral damage. Jae Seong Seok would have let him rot in jail as long as no more questions were raised, but you and I didn’t let that happen. The case is still open since Ray's body was never found, though we know it’s over. To Jae Seong Seok, you and I are the only loose ends. But we're a necessary evil. For now.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me about this?”

You huffed and looked away, “I knew you’d react this way. You think everyone is bad except your precious officers, but everyone can be corrupted. No one’s hands are clean. Heck, not even yours.” 

You glanced at his hands, then raked your hair back. It was true, but maybe you shouldn’t have said it like that.

He kneeled in front of you so you’d be forced to meet his eyes, “That’s not what I mean. If you and I are at risk, I should know about it.”

You looked away, but he grabbed your hands to keep you with him. You shrugged, “I have it under control.”

He observed you for a moment, but there was nothing in his expression telling you he didn’t believe you. At least he wasn’t angry anymore. It brought tears to your eyes that you disgruntledly wiped away.

“This is the price for helping me… Why did you?”

Your lips trembled, and you pressed them before admitting, “You moved me… You knew it wasn’t true, and you were willing to go to hell to prove it. Even if you didn’t actually know,” you scoffed, then smiled, observing his dark glistening eyes. “I… also couldn’t resist seeing how far you’d go. With the chance to get inside your pants, landing on my lap like that? I can’t be blamed for succumbing to your charms.”

He scoffed, and his lips curved, “What charms?”

You smirked and shook your head, “You’re right. Best if you keep ignoring them. That way, I’m the only one who has the pleasure of—”

His lips were on yours before he could stop himself, gently kissing you while his fingers brushed and held your cheeks. He wasn’t one for confrontations but was happy he had asked immediately and clarified everything. He’d do some internal investigation for himself, but he believed you. If your safety was in jeopardy, he had to set up a safety net for you both.

He liked your soft expression when he pulled away, enjoying his thumbs brushing your cheeks. You felt hot to the touch and looked tired, with dark circles under your eyes. Yet before he addressed that, he said, “You can tell me things like this. You know that.”

You sighed and tried to look away, “Maybe.”

He pressed his lips but didn’t insist. He wished there were no secrets between you, but he’d wait for you to make that decision. Giving you the time and space to come to him was still the best he could do.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asked, letting go of you gently. “Maybe a gin and tonic will put color back in your cheeks.”

You looked down and shook your head, “I don’t feel like it.”

He thought everything was well after that, but one week later, he knew it wasn’t. Something had changed, and it was like being forced to watch a chain-reaction car accident happen — there was nothing he could do to stop it, and the damage just kept piling up.

He had noticed you weren’t drinking for a few weeks, but it was starting to irk him now. Sometimes, you were nauseated, and at other times, you were starving. Sometimes, you just wanted to cuddle and sleep, but at other times, you wanted him to stay away because it was too hot and overwhelming if he touched you. You always had a strong personality, which he loved, but now you were unrestrained. Irritable didn’t begin to cover it; something was always wrong. You had fought every day for the past week and always over trivial things that he never even thought of before. 

Since when did you care that he still used the same shampoo his ex-wife used to buy? It was out of habit, absolutely meaningless, but you had taken it so personally that you had squeezed all bottles empty and thrown them at him when he tried to stop you. You never cared that he smoked; on the contrary, you had his favorites at your place just for him. Now? You had almost gagged from him smoking after you two were together, even though he did it for months without an issue. And intimately? He didn’t know what was happening, but you were acting differently. You wouldn’t let him see you fully naked, and the few times you let him touch you, you almost started crying.

He must have been doing something very wrong, but mentioning it only resulted in you fighting or running away. Your routine was kept the next day, but every time, it chipped away at his patience, and surely, it tired you, too.

He blamed his ill temper for the way he ended up snapping at you.

“I don’t feel like it,” you voiced after he offered you a drink. “Maybe I should keep this one short. I need to go back to the Aether.”

He put down the glass inside his office liquor cabinet, not bothering to fill it, and huffed the growing annoyance. You had smiled and kissed him when you arrived, kindling his hope, only to snuff it so easily.

“Then why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

He turned to you, “Why are you here if you’re just going to leave?”

You scoffed, “You mean I shouldn’t have come?”

You looked instantly bitter, and he shook his head, “You should have, and you should stay. Have a drink with me, rest, and fucking talk to me.”

You laughed humorlessly, “You have to be kidding. Again with the drink bullshit?”

“It’s not bullshit.”

“It’s just a drink,” you underlined dryly.

“It’s what it means!”

You rolled your eyes, “And what does it mean?”

“That something changed!”

He slammed the liquor cabinet door closed, and you crossed your arms over your chest, “Just because I don’t want your stupid whiskey?”

The way you withdrew from him made him feel like a pet about to be abandoned. He shook his head, pale, “It’s not the whiskey. You don’t want anything! You’re always annoyed, irritated, and in a rush to leave. You don’t let me touch you or—”

“Stop, just—” You were blushing furiously, with closed fists now trembling at your sides. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“I’m calling it as I see it!”

He regretted raising his voice at you, especially when he noticed the way you were trembling. He wasn’t shouting, but still, it only made things worse. He could see it in your glistening eyes, though your whole body posture told him he fucked up.

But he didn’t understand what he did that led to this, and he wouldn’t just watch it fall apart. He did with his ex-wife. He couldn’t bring himself to care enough to do something about it. But fuck— with you, he cared. He cared more than he had ever been able to tell you or show you, and he couldn’t just watch it happen without doing something.

“I’m leaving.”

You reached to grab your purse over the couch, and it all happened so fast. His heart convulsed, his eyes watered, but most of all, his desperation pushed him to grab your arm to stop you.

You spun around, and your instinct was to pull your trusty knife on him. You were angry, hurt, and shaking, but saw the tears reflecting in his eyes. Your blade was poking his stomach, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You just couldn’t think clearly; you needed to get away.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fucking stab me if you want,” his voice wavered as his hold tightened but your eyes hardened.

“I don’t need to.”

You pulled your arm loose, and he let you go. How could he not? Even though he wanted to beg you to stay and was desperate to fix things and get everything back to what it was. But he couldn’t go against your will. This was what he had always feared finally coming to fruition, and it hurt.

He stood still while he heard you tapping your heels away, praying you would turn around and give him a chance. But then the front door slammed, and he roared and saw red. He kicked and punched everything in the vicinity, ignoring the glass shards and the wood splinters flying around. 

Not much survived in his office by the time he was done, and not even the pain in his knuckles and arms phased him. He fell to his knees with a plea masked as a grunt, but even then it didn’t hurt. Only his heart, beating in agony, did.

All he wanted was you, and he lost you.

[primaviva]

WASTED SUMMERS

PAIRINGS: gwen stacy x fem!reader, gwen stacy x miles morales (platonic)

SYNOPSIS: one minute you were fighting the vulture, the next you were caring for gwen stacy. she hated you at first and thought you were just another person taking pity on her. as the two of you became closer, gwen realized she needed you. maybe as a friend or maybe as something more. but that all changed once miles came back. two months later, you were dropped. just like that. was everything between you two just all in your head? she said it herself, you were just a waste of time.

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mentions of blood / injury, misunderstandings trope, gwen bein in her own world as always, jealousy and big arguments, as well as super long and not proof read ?? that’s all

as the sun stretched its golden rays across the landscape, a gentle warmth enveloped the city, signaling the arrival of summer.

being a normal kid was never in the cards for you. after all, you possessed incredible spider powers that set you apart from the rest. you longed for someone who could relate to the exhilaration, the struggles, and the responsibility that came with being spiderwoman. while others could confide in friends or family about their daily lives, you carried the weight of your powers silently, unable to share the truth with anyone.

but then, everything changed when the events of kingpin's collider unfolded. in that moment, you crossed paths with numerous individuals who were just like you spider people from their own dimensions. finally, you found people who shared your struggles, faced similar challenges, and could truly empathize with what you were going through.

however, you didn't spend much time with them. being new to the mantle, you were still coming out of your shell a little. you still made bonds back then, don’t get yourself wrong. those relationships just weren’t as deep as others like miles and peter or miles and… her.

but things were different now. since then, you've undergone such a transformation.

seeing all of them made you feel normal, not just that you found people who understood you completely. it brought you back to the feeling of when you were a regular teen girl with friends to always hang out with and little crushes. there was a sense of normalcy.

you thought you’d never see them again, until you did.

some time ago, a spider-man named miguel o'hara from a different dimension came forward, boldly claiming his identity as a fellow spider-powered hero. he had taken it upon himself to establish a spider society and extended an invitation for you to join. according to him, he sought someone level-headed like you, someone who could contribute in a meaningful way to the group. at first, it was strange how miguel seemed to possess an uncanny knowledge of your existence. he was well-versed in the details of your encounters, from the kingpin's collider incident to significant moments in your reality that held personal significance for you. he skillfully employed this knowledge to persuade you to make a decision.

despite your initial skepticism, you ultimately said yes, and that marked the beginning of a profound journey. it was through this experience that you delved into the enigmatic concept of the “arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse.” the intricate web of realities, the existence of canon events, and the watches that held the power of multiversal travel. it was akin to schrödinger's cat, where the multiverse and quantum mechanics transformed into theories or knowledge.

but miguel had this factual certainty in his beliefs, and his conviction remained steadfast. you couldn't shake the feeling that there were inherent flaws in his belief system. despite your reservations though, you decided to join. after all, there was no harm in aiding these "anomalies" in finding their way back to their rightful dimensions, was there?

and so, within this newfound spider society, you found yourself reunited with familiar faces like peter, peni, and even new people like hobie, london's very own spider-man.

you thought it was over and your life would continue as normal until miguel called you in.

“(y/n)? get to hq right now, i need you to prepare for another anomaly to be sent back!” he yelled through your watch suddenly.

he sounded out of breath, almost like he was mid running while calling you.

“señor o’hara? the hell, what work are you putting in right now? it sounds like you’re screaming at me from underwater,” you teased as you began to open a portal back to the society.

“now’s not the time for your jokes,” he groaned and you could visibly imagine the look of annoyance on his face. “jessica and i are on our way back with the vulture.”

before you could respond, he abruptly ended the call, leaving you hanging. a few minutes passed as you readied a secure enclosure using the advanced technology provided by the spider society. the vulture, regardless of the variant, always had a penchant for escape, making it crucial to have proper containment measures in place.

lost in your thoughts, you were startled when an imposing figure, resembling an ancient bird, materialized before you, bound in handcuffs. miguel, handling the vulture, swiftly placed him in the designated "jail" alongside the other detained anomalies

"thanks," he whispered, acknowledging your assistance.

you hummed in response as you leaned against the wall. “where’s jessica?” you asked.

miguel muttered under his breath, "with the new recruit," prompting you to raise an eyebrow.

"a new recruit? funny how you conveniently forgot to mention that while you were harassing me over a watch," you remarked playfully.

"i didn't want to," miguel retorted, turning to face you. "but jessica convinced me."

nodding, you stepped closer to him, ready to delve deeper into the matter. however, before you could continue, heavy footsteps approached, and your eyes widened in disbelief.

it was gwen.

"gwen?" you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper, your shock evident.

her eyes widened, but she remained silent and looked down at her feet.

jessica shot you a meaningful look, silently conveying that gwen had been through something difficult and needed space. respecting her unspoken request, you held your questions, allowing gwen the time she needed to process whatever she had experienced.

that was the most that could be said about your initial encounter. you didn't blame her at first for preferring to be alone herself. jessica gave you a brief summary of what happened when her father learned of her identity. she shared no specifics, but all she said was that it went horribly wrong and that she would be staying with the spider society for the time being. it was up till miguel gave her a watch and assigned you the job of assisting her in settling in to make it official.

with gentle care, you grasped gwen's wrist, making sure the watch fit properly on her arm.

“i know miguel probably told you a bunch of word vomit about the watch already,” you began, releasing your grip on the timepiece and gesturing to the buttons. “but just so you don’t get confused, here is the button that activates the watch, while the one below deactivates it. and the actual purpose of the watch, these dials, they're for inputting the assigned dimension number when you're traveling."

gwen responded with a soft hum, her gaze avoiding yours as you looked up. it was evident that she still struggled to find her place, feeling like an outsider. gwen noticed you staring up at her and redirected her focus to you, raising an eyebrow in response.

“are you okay?” you asked her.

she almost rolled her eyes a little. she didn’t want you to take pity on her, nor did she want the attention.

“do i look okay?” she snapped back.

gwen just wanted to be alone, wishing she could retreat into a sanctuary where she could escape the guilt and betrayal that weighed heavily on her heart.

you exhaled a sigh, understanding her irritation and how she desired to keep to herself for now.

“sorry for wanting to know if you were doing better,” you replied with a bit of an attitude. “i know this can be a lot, and i heard about what happened with your dad… just know it’s not your fault. we can talk whenever, if you want to. but i get it, right now you just want space.”

with those words, you turned to walk away, intending to respect gwen's wishes. but before you could step away completely, gwen reached out, gripping your shoulder and gently turning you around. in an unexpected moment, she embraced you tightly.

as you felt a slight dampness on your neck, you realized that gwen's tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“thanks,” her voice came out muffled against your suit. “i’m sorry for acting like a jerk. it really is nice to see you, (y/n). i just have so much going on in my head right now. it’s nice to know that someone understands.”

“you don’t have to thank me for this,” you assured her in a gentle whisper as you rubbed circles into her back.

reluctantly, gwen pulled away, swiftly wiping beneath her eyes and revealing a toothy grin, her endearing gap peeking through.

you swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

it was a little rocky at first. gwen struggled to fully accept your unwavering support, leading to occasional conflicts and disagreements. however, as time passed, she gradually eased into the dynamic between you, recognizing that you genuinely cared for her. with each passing day, gwen's guard began to lower, and she started sharing what happened with her dad, details about her life like how she played with her band, the mary janes, and more.

gradually, gwen found herself seeking refuge at your place more often, drawn to the comfort and solace it provided. drawn to you, even. it’s to the point where she doesn’t even crash at hobie’s anymore. the space you two shared became a sanctuary for gwen, where she could truly be herself, unburdened by the weight of her past.

you two had become close friends, best friends even, but there was something that unsettled your mind about it. whenever she was around, a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursed through your veins as the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks. her presence had a way of making you feel giddy, and you found a joy you weren’t used to in her company.

however, everything began to change when miles returned.

the incident involving the spot was an utter mess. to make a stupid story short, what miguel had defined as an anomaly turned out to be untrue. the canon events were not set in stone but rather common traits among the spider people from different dimensions. the notion of a dimension being "destroyed" was debunked, as dimensions lost in the spiderverse would reset and begin anew beyond the confines of the connected spider universes.

at first, her visit to his universe surprised you. instead of tracking down the spot, she chose to spend time with him, even meeting his parents. you knew they had a deep connection from the first time they met, but witnessing their reunion made it apparent just how close they had become. the way she became so engrossed in him made you feel a pang of jealousy, seeing how effortlessly he captured her attention.

you realized that you hadn't spent much time with her lately, which only heightened your anticipation for the day you had planned to hang out.

again, it was summer. this was the time to hang out with friends, be out late, just do things just for the memories.

as you swung home on your webs you smiled as you took in the world around you.

the sunset blanketed the streets as skyscrapers stood tall, casting long shadows that provided a respite from the heat. bodies of water nearby offered a refreshing breeze to those caught outside in their sweat. the city's iconic landmarks, from the statue of liberty to the empire state building, glisten in the sunlight, their grandeur amplified by the orange and purple skies above. the aroma of street vendors' delicacies fills the air as you jump from building to building, enticing passersby with the sizzle of hot dogs, the tangy zest of pretzels, and the sweet smell of snow cones being sold around the corner. the laughter of children on playgrounds, the strumming of guitars by buskers, and the rhythmic beat of joggers' footsteps became music to your ears.

a broad smile illuminated your face as your eyes fell upon your beloved apartment. with a nimble grace, you hopped onto the fire escape, effortlessly maneuvering your way through the open window. there, on your bed, was gwen, nestled comfortably amidst the pillows. she had been staying at your place for the week, adding an extra touch of warmth to the familiar surroundings.

"whatchu doing, hobo?" you playfully quipped, unable to contain your amusement as you made your presence known.

gwen responded with a good-natured smirk, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "well, hello to you too," she replied, the faintest resistance to rolling her eyes evident in her tone.

stepping further into the room, you shrugged off your bag and placed it gently on your desk, allowing the weight of the day to slip away. the room seemed to exhale, embracing you in its familiar embrace.

curiosity sparked in your eyes as you observed gwen's relaxed state. "so, what did you do today?" you inquired, a genuine interest in her activities evident in your voice.

gwen shifted, propping herself up against the pillows, a contented smile gracing her lips. "well, miguel called me in a few times, but eventually i wasn't needed anymore, so i decided to spend the rest of the day here," she explained. "and you? how about you, my friendly neighborhood web-slinger? did you have any exciting adventures?"

the playful smile that adorned gwen's face mirrored your own, both of you relishing in the simplicity of these moments where you could just be two friends engaged in casual conversation.

"yeah, i did some stuff, but it seems villains nowadays want to take summer vacations," you joked, playfully stepping away from your desk and making your way toward her. "and now i have to change my clothes, so uh, leave," you said, adopting a faux-stern tone while placing your hands on your hips.

despite the fact that there was a perfectly fine extra room available, gwen had a penchant for invading your space, making your room her own. it had reached a point where it was hard to find your own belongings amidst her things, but you didn't mind. you cherished her company, understanding that she was still adjusting to living with her dad again, even after he had discovered her secret and grown to accept her.

"no thanks, i'm too comfortable now," gwen declared, shaking her head with a determined expression, refusing to budge.

you arched an eyebrow, your brow furrowing slightly as you licked your teeth. "fine."

turning away from gwen, you began to remove your shoes, followed by your gloves, setting them aside as you prepared to change.

as gwen noticed your actions, confusion flickered across her features, causing her to tilt her head slightly. "wait a minute, what are you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows curiously.

"well, i did say i was gonna change, but since you're too lazy to leave my bed," you replied, extending your arm behind you, "this is me, changing."

with a firm grip on the zipper, you slowly pulled it downward, revealing your bare back as you opened the closet door and stepped behind it, concealing your figure from gwen's gaze.

gwen scoffed at your teasing remark, her cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. "hey, just because i enjoy some relaxation time doesn't mean i'm lazy," she protested, attempting to maintain her composure but failing in the face of your playful banter.

"better not peek or i'li put you out on the street," you warned.

"oh, please i’d like to see you try," gwen jested. she knew you were teasing, and she couldn't help but play along with you. "you wouldn't be able to, i'm too charming."

as you disappeared behind the closed closet doors, gwen's curiosity got the better of her, though she tried her best not to reveal her intrigue. unbeknownst to you, she leaned to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face through the crack in the doors.

"gwen," you called out, your tone stern.

her reverie shattered, gwen snapped back to reality, quickly retreating to her corner.

"ehmm, i'm not peeking," she mumbled, her face flushing a deeper shade of red. her gaze remained fixed on the small opening between the closet doors, but she did her best to prevent you from noticing.

"it's my superhero instinct to be super observant and all that," gwen explained, trying to justify her actions. "nothing sketchy going on here.”

with a piercing glare, you continued to observe her.

"o-okay, fine, i'm sorry," she conceded, her voice softening as she averted her gaze.

meanwhile, you proceeded to slide your spider suit down to your feet, kicking it off onto the floor before selecting a fresh set of clothes to wear. closing the closet doors, you turned to face gwen.

"i hate you," you retorted, referencing her playful intrusion during your changing process.

gwen rolled her eyes, her mischievous nature still present as she couldn't resist a bit of teasing.

"i love you too," she responded, offering a sly wink and a smirk. "don't worry, i didn't see anything. just your face. it was still a nice view."

her comment caught you off guard, widening your eyes and leaving your mouth slightly agape.

"a nice view?" you repeated, more as a question, deciding to switch the topic. "you're not even the superhero of this earth, but yeah, i'm totally your damsel in distress. definitely not like i have powers of my own or anything," you replied sarcastically.

gwen's mischievous expression persisted as she focused her gaze on you, her eyes trailing over your body.

"yeah, well, i'm always spider-woman, fulfilling my duties as a superhero, which includes making sure to keep everyone safe, including a really pretty damsel like yourself," gwen responded with a playful tone.

you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks at her compliment, quickly turning away to hide your reaction. "so, gonna get ready now or what?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

gwen raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in her expression. "ready for... what?" she asked.

"you literally don't remember us saying we were gonna go bowling?" you replied, slightly exasperated.

"what are you talking about? and doesn't that place open at 6?" gwen questioned, feeling she had missed a chapter on what was going on.

"gwen, it's 6:15," you informed her, hoping it would jog her memory.

her eyes widened in realization, and she quickly sprang into action, putting on her shoes and searching for her jacket.

"shit, shit, shit. i made plans with miles, i'm gonna be late. he's probably mad right now that i haven't shown up yet!" gwen spoke frantically, her mind racing and forgetting about your prior arrangement.

you furrowed your brow in annoyance and a tinge of anger. "gwen, what do you mean you made plans with miles when you said we'd do something today?" you blurted out, feeling a sense of disappointment.

gwen looked at you with a blank expression, scratching her head as she tried to recall what you were talking about. suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise as she realized her mistake.

"bowling? oh god, i completely forgot," gwen exclaimed, still searching for her jacket and watch. "my time management is so bad."

you crossed your arms as you felt your lips pout, feeling a mix of frustration and hurt. "gwen, you always do this. you cancel plans on me, and we don't even hang out anymore besides when you're using my bed to sleep. it's always miles this and miles that. it's getting tiring," you expressed with a bitter tone.

gwen's expression shifted to one of hurt, and she fell silent for a moment, taking in your words.

"hey, i'm sorry... i know it might seem like i don't care when i cancel on you, but that's not true," she said, her voice softening. "i just get caught up in all my superhero stuff... miles and i are really close, you know? like a team."

"yeah, a team," you repeated, pressing your tongue against your cheek as you handed gwen her jacket. "then don't keep him waiting because of me," you said, walking towards the bedroom door.

"hey, hey, hey, take a chill pill," gwen retorted, her voice reflecting her own irritation. "i didn't cancel our plans on purpose. yes, it's true that i do spend more time with miles than you. but he's the reason why i'm able to be the hero that i am today! you should be grateful for that."

gwen turned around, facing you directly, her expression firm and strict. "and by the way, you're the one who always volunteers to let me stay at your place. don't act like a victim now."

you looked at her, a mix of shock and anger coursing through you. "gwen, i am not the one," you declared, pointing a finger up at her. "so trust me when i say you don't want to start with me."

gwen's anger flared, but she made an effort to regain her composure, even though it was clear she was on the verge of losing it.

"hey, don't point your finger at me like that!" she snapped back.

you could see how agitated she is. her lips were slightly curled and her chin jutted out as she narrowed her eyes.

"really? is this how this conversation is going to go?" gwen asked in a hushed tone, her expression shifting to a more saddened one. "you know what? fine. i'll go."

"yeah, i think you should," you agreed, watching her dial the numbers 1610 to miles' dimension.

gwen looked at you as if she wanted to argue further but realized it wasn't worth it. she swiftly opened the portal, ready to leave.

she gave you a sharp nod. "okay then, if that's how you want it," gwen stated, keeping her tone as neutral as possible, although it was evident you had affected her.

after a few seconds of tense silence, she stepped through the portal, disappearing from the room. maybe spending some time in a different dimension with miles would help clear her mind.

hours had passed since your fight with gwen, and the tension still lingered in the air. restlessness had settled deep within you, making it impossible to find solace in sleep. as the late hour ticked away, hunger gnawed at your stomach, prompting you to abandon the confines of your covers. retrieving your phone to check the time, you couldn't help but be shocked by the display.

"ay, is it really only 12?" you asked yourself, shocked as it felt like you have been losing the wrestling match of sleep for hours.

making your way to the kitchen, you sought refuge in the act of preparing a mug brownie, a familiar and comforting midnight snack. the process was quick, taking only a couple of minutes and requiring simple ingredients like brown sugar and the usual components of a microwaveable treat.

a sigh escaped your lips as you reached for the brown sugar from the cabinet, your mind drifting into introspection. the summer had been a tumultuous mix of highs and lows, with moments where tears seemed to dominate your days. juggling the responsibilities of the spider society and your personal commitments has left little time for the company of friends, leaving you longing for more meaningful connections. and when you did manage to spend time with friends, it often revolved around the spider society, missions, and the likes of hobie, margo, and gwen.

"gwen," you murmured aloud, her name rolling off your tongue as thoughts of her flooded your mind.

she had an undeniable hold on you, like a game of cat and mouse that seemed to stretch throughout the entire summer. she consumed your time, yet offered so little in return. it felt as if she knew you better than anyone, even yourself, effortlessly providing comfort and care. however, those moments of intimacy were fleeting, slipping through your fingers before you could fully grasp them.

the idyllic picture of the perfect summer played out in your mind—a montage of beach days, rooftop nights, and the presence of everyone you longed to be with. while you did experience some of those moments, basking in the warmth of the sun with friends, engaging in sleepovers filled with hobie's terrifying tales borrowed from reddit, and swinging across rooftops while gazing at the stars, something essential felt missing. and even now, that void remains unfilled.

that something is gwen, you now realize.

despite her being so close, she always seemed just out of reach. whether it was strolling along the shoreline with miles at the beach, sharing secretive giggles under the covers while the rest of the group debated movie choices during sleepovers, or simply being in the same space, gwen was always by miles' side.

you had tried to stand by her, to be there for her and enjoy her presence, but it seemed as though you could never make it stick.

the sudden eruption of vibrant colors and a jarring electric sound snapped you out of your reverie. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized it for what it was—a portal. and you knew exactly who had just arrived.

preparing yourself mentally, you squeezed your eyes shut, stirring the mixture with a spoon before hastily popping it into the microwave.

when gwen appeared in the kitchen, she looked a bit tired and drained, even though a little excitement was still radiating from her body. she had her hands in her pockets as she walked into the kitchen, her usual confident and cheeky attitude nowhere to be seen. gwen was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect. as soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of you, she froze in her tracks, her eyes getting wide as they darted all over you, looking for any sign that you were mad at her. it took a while for her to summon the courage to break the silence.

"i um- i'm sorry," gwen finally began, her voice soft, her gaze lowered. even in the dim light, you could discern the sincerity in her eyes. "what i said earlier and how i treated you… i shouldn't have."

rather than responding verbally, you nodded, acknowledging her apology while allowing a moment of silence to pass. the sound of her footsteps growing louder indicated her gradual approach.

"what are you doing up so late?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "it's almost midnight. shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

a sigh escaped your lips, her presence a stark reminder of the reason behind your sleeplessness.

"couldn't sleep, so i'm having a snack," you replied in a monotone voice.

gwen tilted her head to the side. "okay, i'ii take that at face value for now," she replied, a small smirk appearing on her face before quickly fading as she walked closer to you.

after a long pause, she finally spoke up. "look. i know that we had a bit of an argument earlier," she stated, voice barley above a whisper. "i just want you to know that i didn't mean anything i said,'' gwen added.

"didn't mean it, or didn't mean to say it?" you questioned, finally turning around to face her directly, allowing her to see your expression instead of just your back.

"both," gwen muttered, feeling like she was digging herself a deeper hole with each word.

you remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

"look, i'm sorry, okay?" she implored, raising her eyebrows. her tone sounded desperate, as if she was really hoping that you would just forgive her. but she knew that you weren't the type to just forget what had happened.

"but i... i'm still your friend. whether you like it or not," she added with a faint chuckle.

arching an eyebrow at her hesitant delivery, you maintained your silence, allowing her to take the lead in the conversation.

"it's not like i was on a date with him or anything like that. i just forgot about our plans. i didn't mean to prioritize him over you. it's just- i owe him a lot. he's special to me, you know," gwen explained, her voice tinged with a touch of regret as you turned away again, biting your lip.

jealousy churned within you as her words filled the air, the mention of miles leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. it felt as though your heart twisted with each passing moment.

"i'm really, really sorry. i promise it won't happen again, okay?" gwen pleaded, her voice dripping with sincerity, even as you maintained your facade of indifference.

"i know how you see miles, you don't have to explain your feelings to me. even if it was a date, why would i care? hope you two had fun," you assured her, disregarding her promise not to bail on you again.

gwen looked genuinely upset when you turned your back to her and shrugged her words away. she didn't want you to feel like you'd been put on the shelf in favor of miles.

"i had fun, yeah," she eventually replied, not sure if you were genuinely interested in hearing about her time with miles.

gwen really did want to make up with you, but to her, it seemed like you were still angry.

you emitted a small hum in response, and the microwave dinged, indicating that the mug brownie was ready.

she took another step closer and placed her hands on your shoulders, trying to catch your attention. her expression was filled with concern.

"hey, is something wrong?" gwen asked you, her eyebrows moving up together to form a small frown.

for at least a few minutes, there was no sound; the only thing breaking the silence was the occasional gust of wind coming from the open window and the sound of you opening the utensil draw for a spoon and eating away at your dessert.

“nothing, i feel fine,” you replied dryly.

the silence and your straight face didn't exactly give gwen anything to work with. it was obvious that something was wrong, but you refused to admit it. you were a very stubborn person, after all.

"you're so full of crap, you know that, right?" gwen replied, turning you around so that you had to look at her.

she wasn't mad at you. well, she certainly was a couple of hours ago, but right at this moment, she was mostly worried about you. you seemed so distant, almost as if you wanted her to leave.

she tightened her grip on your shoulders, not trying to hurt you, but to make it clear that she meant what she was saying. even though your face remained expressionless, gwen could read you like a book. she didn't let go of your shoulders and just kept looking at you, the concern on her face growing.

you gasped, taken aback by how she turned you around

"gwen, literally what do you want me to say to you?" you asked, annoyance seeping into your voice.

"you can say the truth, for starters," she stated.

"well to start, for you to say i'm the one full of crap is hilarious. i said i feel fine, now let go of me," you added, attempting but failing to escape her firm grasp.

gwen felt her expression changing as she heard your words, the look of worry slowly turning into one of annoyance. a part of her wanted to snap back at you, but she remained silent once again.

"no," gwen replied, "no, you're not fine, and you know it."

she took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes, trying to make you listen to her.

"miles means a lot to me— i'd even say he's one of the most important people in my life. but that doesn't mean that he comes before my other friends, and you're definitely one of my friends. i shouldn't have canceled our plans, but..."

gwen looked at you to study your face for any signs that you were hearing her out, but all she was left with was this grim and dark look in your eye as your lips faintly quivered.

she shook her head. "you know what? just forget it. i don't want to keep talking about it. i'ii leave you alone now."

"gwen, i'm not doing this with you right now. goodnight," you declared, placing the cup aside and attempting to walk past her.

gwen was stunned for a few moments as she looked at you, visibly disappointed. for a moment, she was about to protest, but then changed her mind.

she wanted to say something, but she realized that you didn't want to hear it anyway. her grip slowly tightened as her eyes narrowed, but then a deep breath escaped her and she let go.

gwen watched as you left the room, her face filled with confusion and slight frustration. but after everything that had happened tonight, she decided that it was best to leave you alone instead of forcing a conversation you clearly didn't want to have right now.

you woke up feeling a bit hazy after the events of the previous night. as the sun peeked through your curtains, momentarily blinding you, you blinked your eyes a few times to adjust. the silence in the house felt unsettling as you sat up, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

making your way through the hallway, you treaded lightly, not wanting to disturb anyone in the house. you headed towards the guest bedroom, hoping to find gwen there. opening the door, you called out her name, but the room was empty. not only was she not in bed, but her belongings were also gone.

a sense of disappointment washed over you as you closed the door, realizing that gwen had left. uncertain of the reason behind her sudden departure, you let out a deep breath and decided to focus on your responsibilities as a hero. it was time to suit up and check on the city before heading to headquarters for the day.

that's exactly what you did. you patrolled the streets of new york, swinging through the familiar cityscape, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble. along the way, you checked in with miguel to see if he needed any assistance. however, he seemed preoccupied with his own tasks, so you respectfully left him to his work.

feeling the need for some solitude, you made your way to the top of the spider society structure—a tall, unique building that provided a secluded spot away from prying eyes. as you stood at the pinnacle, overlooking the sprawling city, a sense of calm washed over you. the blue skies and gentle breeze offered a momentary respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

using your web-slingers, you effortlessly stuck to the side of the building, skillfully weaving a silk hammock for yourself. nestling into the cozy cocoon, you took a deep breath, savoring the natural scents that filled the air. the peacefulness of the moment enveloped you as you gazed at the breathtaking landscape before you, allowing yourself to unwind and find solace in the stillness.

“(y/n), yer out here?” you heard a voice call out for you.

you let out an audible groan. of course, hobie of all people would come looking for you.

“imma take that as a yes,” he yelled out, swinging down and landing on the hammock next to me with ease.

"oh, hey hobie, what's good?" you asked him, your voice weak and strained from everything going on.

there was so much on your mind it made your brain feel like mush and you didn't know what to do. you just wanted to bury myself in your bed back home and rot away until the day reset. but you knew that wasn’t the healthy thing to do.

hobie’s brow raised at your sad expression, his smirk disappearing. "i dunno if anything is good. you don't look too hot," he commented. his voice was surprisingly calm and caring, contrasting the punk rocker persona. "are ya alright, bruv?"

you looked at him, leaning your head on your palm as you gave him a soft smile.

“it’s… really nothing,” you whispered.

it's clear you're not being entirely honest with him. in fact, you can see his eyes narrow and his forehead crease, as if he can read right through your response like a book.

“i don’t buy it,” hobie sighs as he puts his hands in his pocket and leans back to make himself comfortable. “there's nobody around us, you can talk to me."

you contemplate confiding in him, but ultimately his infectious energy wins you over.

“well, if you really care to listen. i got into a fight with gwen and when i woke up she was gone," you explained. "but now, when i check her location she's always at miles universe or her own...i think she's crashing with him now too. and that's what she used to do with me. the thing is, i don't even hate miles but just when she mentions her name i get this feeling i cabt explain,” you confess.

"oof." hobie frowns. he hates hearing that people aren't doing too great, and it seems to bother him how you don't even know how you feel.

he could do with some insight on these subjects as well. "that's rough, mate. y'do know she's not doing that to avoid ya, right?"

you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“i honestly don’t know, and i don’t even think it matters anymore,” you admitted. “but it’s like when i’m near her, i get this warm feeling? i don’t know how to describe it. we’re best friends, well, were at this point. every time i got near her tho, she made me feel all giddy and nervous. maybe i was excited to have someone like her in my life or something.”

he looks at you with a knowing look, like he seems to have the answer.

"y're in love with her? because that kinda sounds like it to me," hobie states.

he's straight forward. no sense dancing about these things type of attitude.

"what?" you yelled out of nowhere, almost choking on your own saliva. that was the last thing you expected him to say.

“hobie, you move a lil’ too fast. love is a real strong word,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands from embarrassment.

he laughs, and nudges your shoulder a bit. "i can see it on your face, (y/n). ain't got a lotta experience myself, but you're crushing on her real hard."

you hesitantly move your hands from your face and meet his gaze.

'hey, you don't gotta deny it,” he teased, enjoying how flushed your face looked. "you like her, don'tcha?"

"i do, but we haven't talked in weeks and i'm starting to think that she likes miles," you admit. "she just sees me as a best friend that helped her through a bad time. but miles and her are the same. they have a special connection, she even said so herself to me." you sigh in defeat.

hobie can tell that you're hurting, and he doesn't want to see you so down over her. there's a moment of silence, before the guy nudges you again.

"aye, but that's all the more reason to tell her how you feel,” hobie gives his advice matter-of-factually. "tell her how you feel. if she says she likes miles, it'll be a bit awkward. but you'll be glad you got it off your chest. and if she feels the same as you, what have you got to lose?"

"okay. you're right. i don't know when tho, since we haven't talked since our fight. but if we aren't even on speaking terms… might as well say how i feel," you state, moved my his advice.

"atta girl. i believe in ya,” hobie hypes you up. "now, let's get you home cus those bags under yer eyes makin you look like a racoon. you've already had a hard week. you need a break."

you smile, about to respond until you see miles coming up from the distance as hobie gives him an inviting wave.

"hey guys! uh, miguel sent me to get you two since g- never mind actually, it’s not important. he said something about a mandatory meeting," he stated.

"mandatory? the hell's that supposed to mean?" hobie questioned, the spider-punk's tone skeptical as always.

you really wanted to go home for once and not deal with bullshit, but you might not have a choice.

“ight so i guess this is happening now,” you sulk. it isn't much of a surprise. you weren't expecting miles to be the one to walk up to you both, though, especially since miguel of all people sent him. “whatever, let’s get this over with.”

you, hobie, and miles entered the headquarters, exchanging greetings with your fellow spider people as you made your way towards the boardroom. there was a mix of anticipation and apprehension in the air as you stepped into the room, scanning the space until your gaze landed on gwen. your eyes widened involuntarily, a rush of emotions flooding over you at the sight of her. the tension between you had created a tangled web of nervousness and anxiety, leaving you unsure of how to navigate the encounter. however, before you could dwell on these feelings, miguel wasted no time and commenced the meeting, diverting your attention.

gwen, positioned in a quiet corner of the room, watched you as you entered. the moment you spotted her, she looked away, avoiding your gaze.

gwen sat across the large conference table from you. she couldn't help but notice the look on your face when you spotted her. was that relief or anxiety? sadnesses, even. perhaps it was a little bit of everything. as your eyes locked with hers, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were feeling the same as she was. she hoped she wasn't projecting her own feelings onto you, but seeing you after not talking for so long brought up some complicated emotions in her heart.

as the meeting began, her expression remained neutral, but her mind was filled with a myriad of thoughts. she was wondering what could happen after this meeting with you.

while miguel led the discussion, you tried to focus on him, but a nagging sensation tugged at the corner of your vision. your face instinctively turned towards the source, and there, you met with a familiar watercolor blue.

gwen felt a chill run down her spine as her body tensed up, realizing that you caught her staring at you. as she turned her head towards miguel, her thoughts kept wandering back to you. it was also obvious that something was bothering her, as she constantly shifted in her seat.

she was still trying to think about how to approach you after so long. the situation was incredibly awkward and tense, but all she wanted was to make things right between you both again.

however, even as her attention seemed to shift elsewhere, you couldn't resist staring back at gwen. your gaze lingered on her, studying the intricate details that made up her unique appearance—from her eyebrow piercing to her dyed pink tips and her tousled blonde hair. unafraid to acknowledge her presence, you made sure she noticed your unwavering gaze.

embarrassment flooded gwen's face as she felt your eyes locked on her from across the room. despite her attempts to steal glimpses of you, she couldn't help but feel a knot of nervousness twisting in her stomach. her cheeks flushed with warmth, and her hands anxiously fiddled with the hem of her jacket.

the magnetic pull between you both was undeniable, and gwen couldn't resist the urge to turn her head in your direction. it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her breathless. her body seemed to melt, her heart threatening to burst with the weight of emotions she struggled to comprehend. doubts crept into her mind, questioning whether her feelings were simply illusions, born out of a desperate desire for connection.

she tried to ignore you. tried to make herself remember all the negative things about you, and all the reasons why you two shouldn't be friends again, but it was so hard. she felt like she was back to square one, right at the start when you talked for the first time.

the constant glances and stares made gwen feel all kinds of things she couldn't quite describe. it felt as though you were engaged in a silent battle, yet at the same time, a bond between you through the unspoken language of your eyes.

as gwen's mouth grew dry, she experienced a sensation she hadn't felt in quite some time. it was a mix of nerves and excitement that made her feel like a typical teenager, caught up in the throes of uncertainty and anticipation.

she felt as if you were the only person in this room right now.

despite her attempts to ignore you and focus on miguel's words, gwen found it increasingly challenging to follow the meeting. and then, once again, she felt the weight of your gaze on her. turning her head, she realized that you had shifted your attention away from miguel, fully directing it towards her.

"(y/n), can you share with the others the observation you made the other day?" miguel's voice pierced through the air, jolting you back to the reality of the meeting. the sound of his words broke the spell, prompting you to refocus your attention on the task at hand.

gwen breathed a sigh of relief as miguel called for you to speak up, but she still couldn't take her eyes off you for even a second. she tried to listen to your speech, but it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than you.

she felt you turn your gaze away from her, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking her eyes back towards you a moment later. your face looked so serious and professional, but at the same time, there was a spark in your eyes that she couldn't miss.

she watched as you addressed miguel with confidence and conviction, all the while feeling her heart beat faster and faster.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the meeting came to a close, drawing collective sighs of relief from the attendees. miguel couldn't resist making a snarky comment about the length of the meeting, eliciting a tired chuckle from the group. the weight of the intense atmosphere lifted, if only momentarily, allowing for a brief respite from the emotional tension that had filled the room.

gwen waited for everyone to leave, and then approached you as you were already halfway out of the room.

'hey," she called out to you quietly, almost as if she didn't want to disturb the silence. "can i talk to you for a sec?"

you turned back from facing hobie as he gave you a knowing look. slowly, you shifted back to gwen.

“yeah, sure,” you replied dryly.

hobie let out a deep hum. “see ya both,” he told the two of you as he dropped his shoulders and strutted away.

gwen watched as hobie walked away, waiting until he was out of sight before looking back at you, her expression serious. taking a small breath, she attempted to collect her thoughts, knowing that she had so much to say but fearing the possibility of stumbling over her words once again.

"i know we haven't talked in a while which is my fault," she began, "but i want to apologize for... well, everything."

her eyes locked with yours, searching for any sign of your reaction. but before delving further, she felt the need to make one thing abundantly clear.

"i still consider you to be one of my closest friends," she uttered softly, hoping her words would reach you.

in response, you offered gwen a comforting smile, even if it didn't entirely reflect your true emotions.

"gwen, it's alright. you've already apologized, and i don't need to hear it again," you reassured her.

her smile widened at your response, yet she couldn't help but detect a subtle nuance in your tone.

"i know you don't need to hear it again," gwen replied awkwardly, unable to fully hide the excitement that was starting to creep into her voice. "but i need to say it myself. i do care about you. a lot."

"thanks," you replied, your arms welcoming her as you opened them wide. "it's alright, okay? friends?" you asked, your aura radiating a warmth to it.

yeah, you weren't completely happy about the fight or how it seemed to have no real resolution. but seeing gwen so torn up about it made you want to just reconcile as you kept hobie’s advice echoed in the back of your head. she seemed genuine in not making the same mistakes again, so what’s the harm in second chances?

a small smile graced gwen's face as she stepped forward, her arms encircling your waist as she finally felt the embrace she had long yearned for. the sensation of your skin on her fingertips and the familiar scent that enveloped her brought a sense of comfort she had sorely missed. she buried her face in your shoulder, an electric tingle coursing through her body. for some reason, this hug was different from all the ones that she shared with you in the past. maybe it was because she was aware of how she felt right now. or maybe it was because of this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be close to you again.

"friends," she said, nodding vigorously, "friends."

a flush of warmth spread across your face as gwen's hands made contact with you—a sensation you hadn't experienced in quite some time. slowly, you pulled back from the embrace, gazing up at her with a renewed sense of excitement.

"wanna swing around?" you suggested, eager to make up for lost time and create new memories together.

gwen's response was immediate, her enthusiasm palpable. "yes, please!" she exclaimed, her eagerness shining through. the destination didn't matter as long as it was just the two of you.

a smile never left gwen's face as she replied, "yes!" her voice exuded genuine joy. "i mean, yeah, i'd love to. it's been so long!"

caught off guard by her unabashed enthusiasm, you met her gaze with a teasing look.

"did i make my answer too obvious?" she asked, her expression tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

you couldn't help but let out a loud cackle, a sound that had been absent during your time apart. god, you had missed her.

"nah, not at all. i didn't even think you wanted to come with me," you teased, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

gwen's promises had proven to be short-lived, falling far short of expectations. as the summer neared its end and the seasons began to shift, you couldn't help but notice a change in gwen's behavior. what once were hangouts with others gradually transformed into solitary encounters, until eventually, the two of you stopped hanging out altogether, once again.

sitting atop the brooklyn bridge during lunchtime, you glanced at your watch, a gift from hobie. the vendor had generously given you a hot dog on the house, but your mind wandered, and curiosity got the better of you. you decided to check gwen's location on the watch, only to discover she was on earth 1610.

"i can't catch a break at this point," you muttered to yourself, realizing she seemed to be with mikes again.

feeling a sense of boredom, you decided to check hobie's location on the watch as well. however, your brows furrowed in confusion as you noticed he, too, was on earth 1610.

sitting up abruptly, your attention was caught off guard when you saw margo and pavitr's locations aligning with earth 1610 as well. it was an unexpected revelation. before you could process it fully, a call came in from miguel.

"(y/n), report to earth 1610. an anomaly from earth 65 has materialized," he urgently explained before abruptly hanging up, leaving no time for further explanations.

without hesitation, you dialed earth 1610 and activated the portal. as you jumped through, you were instantly transported to earth 1610, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos. your eyes widened in shock at the sight of a massive floating head terrorizing brooklyn.

swiftly swinging through the chaos, your gaze scanned the area until you spotted miles, gwen, and margo. pavitr and hobie were engaged in assisting with citizen control.

"what the hell is going on here?" you exclaimed, addressing the bewildered trio. before they could respond, the colossal floating head turned to face the three of you. a realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

"is that... is that fucking donald trump?" you blurted out, incredulous at the sight before you.

suddenly, everything fell into place. donald trump, ironically enough, appeared to be the m.o.d.o.k. variant in gwen's universe, and somehow, he had glitched into miles' reality.

"does anyone have a plan?" you urgently asked, realizing the gravity of the situation and the need for immediate action.

you were completely right: it was, indeed, donald trump. but he looked nothing like the president from your timeline. he looked... deformed.

“i think i know a way to stop him!" gwen shouted, immediately swinging over to miles.

you couldn't help but feel baffled and frustrated by gwen's apparent disregard for your presence. as she went off searching for miles, you swung after her, annoyed by her dismissive attitude.

"hey, don't you want to stick with the rest of us?" you asked, irritation lacing your words. you had lost sight of miles and margo while evading m.o.d.o.k.'s attacks, and it was crucial to regroup.

"oh, sorry!" gwen quickly replied, finally noticing that you had followed her. her focus had been solely on finding miles and stopping the giant-headed donald trump monstrosity.

after locating miles and catching his attention, gwen wasted no time in sharing her plan, hoping it would be enough to neutralize the colossal floating threat.

"we need to find the panel at the back of his armor and shut it down," she explained, her voice resolute.

you walked over to join them, your annoyance evident as you stomped over. "gwen, you can't be serious with that plan," you told her, hands on your hips. "it's way too risky, even for you. look at what's happening around here!"

gwen looked at you, defending her plan while meeting your gaze. "what else do we have?" she retorted. "the longer we take, the more damage trump might do to this universe! we have to act fast, and we can't afford to waste time searching for alternatives!"

though confusion flickered across miles' face, gwen had faith that he would support her plan.

"we have to do this," she asserted, her voice firm.

"gwen, listen. if you're feeling guilty about trump being here, now is not the time," you yelled in frustration. "i understand you want to help miles, but respectfully, this is the dumbest plan i've ever heard from you! it's close combat, which poses a significant risk. he's too massive and unpredictable. just look at the path of destruction he's leaving behind with his flailing legs. jumping on him could endanger innocent bystanders, including yourself!"

however, judging by the expression on gwen's face, it was clear she wasn't buying your reasoning.

"what do you expect us to do otherwise?” gwen snapped, her frustration now boiling over. "if we don't tackle this head-on, this donald trump will bring complete destruction to this earth! can't you see what's happening here?"

she gestured to the chaos surrounding them, emphasizing the dire situation.

"you have a better plan?" gwen challenged. "please, enlighten us! come up with something new, because time is running out."

before you could offer an alternative, gwen grabbed miles' arm and swung off with him. you let out an aggravated yell, following closely behind, but by the time you caught up with them, they had already set their plan in motion.

gwen quickly assessed her surroundings, searching for anything that could aid them in the battle against m.o.d.a.a.k. her gaze landed on a nearby construction crane, and she swung next to it, her mind working swiftly.

turning to miles, she spoke calmly, "can you throw me up as high as possible? with enough speed, i might be able to knock him off balance."

the sight was disheartening. miles and gwen struggled in their attempts to combat the floating head, who grew more frustrated by their relentless presence. suddenly, he started spinning frantically after miles accidentally touched a component apart from his tech suit. it sparked an idea in your mind on how to neutralize him.

however, your attention shifted as you noticed pavitr in harm's way, with the airborne m.o.d.a.a.k. hurtling towards him.

gwen swiftly recognized the imminent danger and reacted in a split second. she shot a web at m.o.d.a.a.k., specifically targeting an area of his body that wasn't shielded by his armor. the web hit its mark, sending him flying backward, crashing into a nearby building.

the building happened to be under construction, which meant there were no people inside, providing a sense of relief. yet, your eyes widened as you realized the structure couldn't withstand the weight of the massive m.o.d.a.a.k. the building crumbled and collapsed into the water.

everyone swung over to the site, landing on the debris of the fallen building.

"pavitr, you alright?" you asked, giving him a friendly shoulder nudge.

"you know it," he replied with his usual cheery demeanor.

suddenly, all eyes turned to the water as it began bubbling before abruptly stopping.

"electronics don't do too well in water, so... we should be good, right?" miles nervously asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. you turned your head to face him, giving him a blank look. "yeah, i didn't think so either," he admitted weakly.

bravely, you approached the edge where the water met the debris, peering down cautiously.

"be careful!" margo called out from behind you.

you gazed into the seemingly empty depths.

"soooo, is the big guy down or what?" hobie asked, breaking the silence as you remained silent, observing the sea.

before you could respond, an enraged m.o.d.a.a.k. emerged from the water, more aggressive and determined than ever. the battle was far from over.

"ummm... guys?" she asked, turning back to look at you, miles, hobie, margo, and pavitr. "i think we might have a problem..."

suddenly, the m.o.d.a.a.k. unleashed a violent wave of water towards the group, knocking them all down. gwen felt herself being pulled away by the force of the water, but managed to reach for one of her spider-webs and quickly shoot it towards the trump variant.

you swiftly shot out a web and grabbed onto a rusted pole nearby, pulling yourself up to a vantage point where you could assess the area.

"i've had enough of this," you muttered to yourself as you dialed margo's number on your watch.

"margo, are you hurt?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

she chuckled dryly in response. "you think i'm gonna be taken down by an orange big baby bigot? you've got another thing coming."

you laughed, appreciating margo's indomitable spirit. "listen, i need you to see if you can compromise his software. try to hack into it and disrupt his flight control," you instructed.

"you got it," margo replied sharply, her determination palpable. you ended the call and proceeded to contact the rest of the team.

"listen up, new plan," you announced, ensuring everyone was on the line. "margo is going to hack into the software m.o.d.a. a. k. is using to control his flight. meanwhile, the rest of us will lead him to a more remote area, away from the general public. once margo can disable his flight, we'll surround him and weave a web cocoon to immobilize him. understood?"

you received agreements from everyone except gwen, who seemed lost in her thoughts. miles tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"gwen, you good?" he asked, concern in his voice. "you haven't said anything this whole time."

"oh, right!" gwen replied, sounding distracted. "yeah, i'm in."

with the plan set, everyone sprang into action.

margo skillfully hacked into his software without detection. "get ready," she warned, as she began manipulating his flight controls.

m.o.d.a. a.k. started moving erratically, flying upward, downward, and in multiple directions, resembling a sickening spectacle. then suddenly, he went limp and began descending toward the ground.

"now!" you yelled, signaling the team to surround him. together, you spun thick webs that enveloped his body, forming a sturdy silk cocoon.

after securing m.o.d.a. a. k. in place, you all worked together to create a stable landing spot made entirely of spider-webs, ensuring the safety of both m.o.d.a.k. and the surrounding area.

as citizens gathered around, witnessing the strange sight, they began applauding. you and your team exchanged small waves, acknowledging their appreciation.

"thank god..." miles exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "nice job, everyone."

you all let out tired huffs and puffs, drained from the rush of adrenaline and the physical exertion. however, the relief of the battle's conclusion was short-lived as miguel arrived in an aircraft from headquarters, seemingly to transport m.o.d.a. a. k. away. lab personnel from the spider society surrounded the scene, evacuating nearby civilians from the cocooned monstrosity in the middle of the street.

as everyone else dispersed, miles made his way to the chief of police to provide an explanation of what had transpired. meanwhile, you found yourself engaged in a conversation with miguel, providing him with a detailed report of the events. from a distance, you spotted gwen standing alone in front of the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, piquing your curiosity.

after concluding your conversation with miguel, you approached gwen, calling out to get her attention. however, she didn't respond, deep in her own thoughts.

frustration welled up within you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer. "gwen, what the hell is your problem with me?" you pressed, your voice rising.

gwen was startled by your sudden outburst, turning to face you with a confused expression. "hm? what are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she tried to comprehend your question. "why would i have a problem with you?"

just as the argument between you and gwen began to escalate, miles returned after speaking with the chief of police, sensing the tension in the air. he decided to intervene and find out what was happening.

"what's going on?" miles asked, his voice tinged with concern.

annoyance etched across your face, you directed your frustration towards miles. "nothing's wrong, except for the fact that you and gwen were acting like damn idiots out there!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "do you realize how many people could've gotten hurt? do you understand the damage you caused, the buildings that were destroyed?"

your anger was evident, fueled by gwen's apparent neglect of your friendship and her persistent focus on miles. it seemed they always wanted to take matters into their own hands, disregarding any collaborative efforts. their plan had been flawed.

miles took a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and defensiveness. "look, i understand that you're mad. but we had to do whatever we could to stop that freak," he replied calmly, trying to maintain composure. "we had to act quickly, you know that. and you can call me an idiot all you want, but in the end, didn't we succeed?"

"we? we didn't do much, you know," you mocked, pointing a finger towards the trapped m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon and then back to your face. "modak is trapped because of me! while you two were off doing whatever the hell you pleased, i came up with the plan to capture him. you needed to listen to me, but no! you two lovebirds were lost in your own world," you spat out, frustration evident in your words.

gwen felt her heart sink as your anger turned towards her, accompanied by an intense glare. you accused miles and her of being irresponsible during the battle, highlighting the near catastrophe caused by miles' actions.

"hey, wait a minute," gwen replied, her irritation growing as you hurled insults at her and miles. "miles and i did our best, okay? we helped stop that m.o.d.a.a.k., remember?" she looked you in the eye, defending both herself and miles. "why can't you ever acknowledge our efforts?"

you scoffed at gwen's comment, unable to fathom her perspective. "have you ever thought of doing stand-up comedy, gwen? because you're a literal joke if you think you helped. does provoking him to the point where he nearly caused a mini tsunami in brooklyn not ring a bell? because that shit just happened! and how the hell do you expect me to acknowledge your efforts when you don't even acknowledge me?" you shouted, your frustration boiling over.

the argument had clearly escalated from a disagreement about the mission to a more personal confrontation. miles, feeling the tension, awkwardly decided to retreat from the conversation. "um... you two... i should... i'll just... go," he mumbled, attempting to diffuse the situation and give both of you some space.

you two turned your gaze back to each other, the weight of the argument hanging heavily in the air. the tension between you was palpable as you stood there, hurt and frustrated.

"okay, fine, maybe i don't acknowledge you enough," gwen replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of defensiveness and honesty. "but that doesn't change the fact that we're friends. we're on a team, dammit. i thought that we trusted each other."

you crossed your arms, your frustration still evident. "gwen, how can i trust you when you can't even follow through on simple promises?"

gwen looked at you, her brows furrowing in confusion as she crossed her arms in return. "what promises?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

you let out a sigh, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "this whole summer, you've barely spent any time with me. and after our fight, you said you wouldn't bail on plans anymore, but you just did it again. it feels like you don't care to make an effort or you simply don't want to see me. do you even realize how much it hurts? all i've wanted is to be around you, but every time we do, it feels like you're running away, like you're scared. i just wanted to hold your hand, to feel close to you. but instead, i feel like i've been chasing after you tryna cling to you like a fucking leech, and it's exhausting. it makes me question if it was all a waste of time. so tell me, am i a waste of time to you?" you confessed, your voice filled with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

gwen's initial defensive stance softened as your words sank in. deep down, she was scared of commitment, afraid of the responsibilities and stress that come with close relationships. but now she realized the impact her actions were having on you.

a flicker of regret crossed gwen's face as she realized the pain she had caused. "yes, you are a waste of time," she had blurted out, but the moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

shock and hurt washed over you, your voice trembling as you struggled to process her response. "are you for real? after everything... just like that?" tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you.

you placed a hand over your chest, feeling your heartbeat pounding like an aggressive drum. the pain of gwen's words cut deep, and you couldn't bear it any longer. "you know what, gwen? fuck you," you said, the words laced with pain and anger, as tears streamed down your face.

gwen's stomach twisted with remorse, realizing the weight of her thoughtless words. she desperately wanted to take them back, to make things right, but she could see that you were too hurt to listen or care.

turning away, you withdrew from gwen's reach, not wanting to face her in that moment. overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, you massaged your temples, trying to calm the storm brewing inside you.

gwen understood that you needed space, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved. she had to fix this. "i'm so, so sorry! i didn't mean what i said, i really didn't," she pleaded, her voice frantic. "i was just mad, okay? i didn't think before i spoke. please, give me a chance to explain."

as gwen spoke, her voice started fading away, and you felt a tingling sensation intensify in your head. suddenly, you realized what it was—it was your spider sense.

turning towards the m.o.d.a.a.k. cocoon, time seemed to slow down as you saw him slice a slit in the silk, preparing to launch an attack. without hesitation, you pushed gwen to the floor, your instincts taking over to protect her.

chaos ensued as other spider people rushed to contain the situation. in the midst of the commotion, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain in your side. instinctively, you reached down to grip the source of the pain, only to have your hand come away wet with blood. you had taken the blow intended for gwen.

m.o.d.a.a.k. had shot you.

your vision grew hazy as the pain intensified, and you realized the gravity of the situation. in that moment, all the hurt and anger faded away, replaced by a deep concern for your own well-being. as everything faded to darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if gwen would realize the depth of her feelings before it was too late.

"(y/n), are you okay?" gwen yelled out, her instincts kicking in as she rushed to your side, her voice filled with urgency.

her eyes widened as she took in the sight of you, blood pouring from your wounds. a wave of worry washed over her, and her stomach twisted with fear. "hey, stay with me," she pleaded.

weakly, you managed to ask, "gwen, are you okay?"

her heart ached at the sound of your weakened voice. "stay with me, please," she repeated, her tone softer this time, her own fear causing her mouth to go dry.

desperately, gwen reached out to you, her hand trembling as she brushed against your arm, wanting to offer some form of comfort. but in the face of such a dire situation, she felt utterly helpless. the pool of blood around you was expanding rapidly, and the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her. doubts and fears raced through her mind, fearing that she might lose you.

"shhh, just relax. breathe," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and reassurance. gwen listened attentively, doing as you instructed, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

as you felt her tension ease, a faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. despite your own condition, you wanted to provide her with some comfort.

gwen felt a glimmer of relief as she saw you momentarily relax. your bloody hand rested on her chest, seeking solace in her touch as she held you tightly in her arms.

but as time passed, your eyelids grew heavier, and your consciousness slipped in and out. the world around you faded into darkness as you succumbed to the overwhelming blood loss, and you passed out.

"no, no, no..." gwen whispered to herself, her voice filled with a mix of anguish and determination.

with tears welling up in her eyes, gwen carefully lifted your limp body, cradling you in her arms. she refused to let despair consume her. with every ounce of strength she could summon, she reassured you, whispering that everything would be alright.

in a display of unwavering resolve, gwen carried you, her steps steady but her heart heavy, as she made her way towards help. the weight of her emotions—fear, worry, concern, anxiety, and regret—pressed upon her, but she took a deep breath, determined to stay strong for your sake.

as she gently placed you onto a gurney, the tension in her body was evident.

a day had passed since the incident, and you had undergone surgery. surprisingly, you fared better than expected, and as you sat up, you realized you were in the emergency care department of the headquarters. clad in a hospital gown, you slowly lifted it, revealing the bandages wrapped around your wounds.

confusion clouded your mind until you noticed gwen entering the room, dressed in her normal attire. her eyes widened upon seeing you awake, a mix of relief and worry evident on her face.

"you're awake!" she exclaimed, a big smile forming on her face.

gwen approached you cautiously, her gaze fixed on the bandages and hospital gown that concealed your injuries.

"how do you feel?" she asked.

she stepped closer before taking a seat on your bedside, unable to contain her emotions, and quickly wrapped her arms around you in a strong embrace. your body tensed in pain from your abdomen as you let out a small gasp, but her presence provided a sense of comfort.

"what the hell happened?" you asked, sitting up, your bewilderment evident.

as you posed the question, gwen's face turned nervous, her voice slightly trembling. "that m.o.d.a.a.k. shot you," she replied, the words catching in her throat. "you took the bullet for me."

her gratitude spilled forth as her eyes studied your form. "thank you," she added, her voice filled with a mix of appreciation and remorse.

taken aback by her words, you felt a flood of memories rush back, the events of the fight and her hurtful remark resurfacing in your mind like a turbulent wave.

"yeah, i remember," you recalled, rubbing your head as a headache set in. "that happened after..."

the words caught in your throat as you couldn't bring yourself to say it, the memory of gwen calling you a waste of time after you had confessed your feelings still fresh in your mind.

sensing the tension in the air, gwen acknowledged the weight of the past events. "yeah... that fight," she replied softly, her voice tinged with regret.

the realization that you were now in a better state and on the path to recovery prompted gwen to address the lingering issue. determination flickered in her eyes as she mustered the courage to explain herself.

"yeah, um, i wanted to talk about that," gwen began. "what i said... i didn't mean any of it, okay? i was just angry."

as gwen placed her hands on your arm to stop you from rubbing your head, you pulled your arm away, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "you keep saying that, gwen," you commented. "really, don't force yourself to be around me. especially if you don't feel the way i do. just because i took a hit for you doesn't mean you owe me this," you explained, your words laced with a mix of resignation and self-preservation.

gwen frowned and looked away, a mixture of hurt and determination flickering in her eyes. "it's not about you taking a bullet for me," she replied, her voice soft but earnest. "it's about me hurting you with those comments i made. i didn't mean a single word of what i said. and i'm not forcing myself to do anything... i love being around you, (y/n)."

she spoke with sincerity, her words carrying the weight of remorse. "i said those things because i was an idiot, not because i think you're a waste of time. because you aren't."

you couldn't help but feel a surge of confusion as you searched her eyes for answers. "if it's not that, then what's your problem?" you asked, your tone a mix of frustration and curiosity.

gwen fell silent for a few moments, her gaze fixed on the floor as she grappled with her emotions. "fear," she finally answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

her confession hung in the air, and she continued, her voice gaining strength. "fear of getting too attached, fear of hurting you by accident, fear of falling in love..." her vulnerability was clear as she admitted her feelings openly. "i just don't want to mess things up, okay? it's been a struggle for me to feel comfortable with... commitment. it's complicated."

moved by her honesty, you reached out and gently took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "gwen, you can talk to me," you assured, your voice filled with empathy.

taking a deep breath, gwen met your gaze directly, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and nervousness. "you're right," she replied, her voice steadier now. "i've been avoiding you because i was scared. scared that..."

she paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "i have always liked you more than a friend," she stated, her words blunt and honest. "but i was worried that i might ruin our friendship if i admitted it to you. so i ended up pushing you away. i'm sorry."

the shock was evident on your face as you processed her words. "you like me back?" you asked, your voice filled with surprise. "so the whole time you were avoiding me... you were scared?"

gwen nodded quietly, a tinge of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "i- yeah," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "but i was nervous to spend time with just the two of us. it felt like something changed between us. and i guess i didn’t want my feelings to be confirmed, even tho being away from you did the exact opposite.”

she looked down, feeling a mix of nervousness and shame. "i can't believe i was acting like this toward someone i like. how stupid am i?" her voice trailed off, her self-criticism evident.

placing a hand on her cheek, you gently turned her face to meet your gaze. "hey, hey," you spoke softly, your thumb stroking her cheek. "that's all in the past now. i know it's hard to be vulnerable, but you can do it."

gwen's heart fluttered at your touch, a warmth filling her. your words resonated deeply within her, and she felt a newfound determination take hold. "you're right," she replied, her voice more confident. "i can do it. and that's what i want to do—to be vulnerable with you."

you grinned at her as the gentle touch of your thumb on her cheek stirred something within her. with a surge of courage, gwen leaned in, meeting your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

gwen's lips met yours in a tender, passionate kiss, her weight pressing against you slightly as you instinctively put both hands up to cup her cheek. closing your eyes, you surrendered to the moment, savoring the feeling of her lips against yours.

the sensation of gwen's kiss was like a dream come true, an intoxicating blend of passion and love that left you breathless. she continued to kiss you, her lips moving with a fervent energy that sent tingles of excitement throughout your entire body. in that moment, all worries and nerves faded away, replaced by the sheer intensity of the connection between you.

as you pulled back slightly, your eyes locked with gwen's, a joyful giggle escaping your lips. a broad smile spread across your face, reflecting the happiness that filled your heart.

gwen's heart raced, her stomach aflutter as she met your gaze. it was a sensation she had never experienced before, but one she embraced fully. "you have no idea how long i've been wanting to do that," she confessed, her voice slightly breathless. "thank you for being so understanding," she added, her smile radiant.

taking a moment to readjust herself, gwen mirrored your earlier gesture, placing her hand gently on your cheek. the weight of her touch felt light, yet it conveyed a profound sense of happiness and contentment.

"of course, i'll always understand you," you reassured her, your voice filled with sincerity. you chuckled at her remark. "well, we don't have to wait around anymore, do we?" you playfully remarked, leaning in for another kiss. in that moment, it felt like everything was falling into place.

gwen wrapped her arms around your neck, drawing herself even closer to you, her body moving in sync with yours. the taste of your mouth was both sweet and comforting, fueling a strength within her.

she wished this moment could last forever, but she knew that reality would eventually intrude, bringing an end to this blissful interlude.

so, gwen allowed herself to fully immerse in the joy of the present, cherishing every second of this special kiss, knowing deep down that it would become one of the most cherished memories of this unforgettable summer.

© 2023 primaviva — likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated!

[aratedfreyjablog]

Relationship between Lucifer and Michael + Theory on "God's" Disappearance

PB did a fantastic job with the new event where not only did they drop more lore but also emphasize no side is a complete antagonist/"bad guy". Up to before this event, the angels have continued to set up as petty and villainous being that only wishes to be the eyes of "God". The event shows that isn't really the case when revealing the relationship between Lucifer and the seraphims.

In fact, I can't help but really pity the angels and their relationship with Lucifer. Especially with Michael, it's obvious that he really does love Lucifer in an extremely twisted way. He never once faults Lucifer for anything he does and, instead, blames and kills those around him to be the cause for any actions Lucifer takes that Michael disagrees with/ "goes against 'God's' will". Heck, despite Lucifer being the one to have pulled one of his eyes out as a way to save the remaining two dragons (Gamigin and Serenade), Michael does everything in his power to find Lucifer and tries to bring him back to Heaven from Hell. He still calls him "hyung", which in both KRN and JPN, a guy calling another guy who's older than himself whether being blood-related or not "hyung", "aniki", and so forth is interpreted as being extremely affectionate and close with the other party. He also doesn't frown or get angry at him but smiles and flushes in Lucifer's presence.

The part that makes all of this ever more tragic is that the love between Lucifer, Michael, and the rest of the seraphims is mutual. Lucifer doesn't come to hate them but shows desire for them to realize what they're doing is wrong. It ranges from Lucifer saying to Michael his desires outright to having Michael be the only surviving angel to go to Heaven while killing the rest that were brought down to Hell. He really could've killed Michael and in the event, it was mentioned how Lucifer had felt when addressing Michael was fury and "child-like affection". Not once was the word resentment or hatred used, rather his feeling of resentment/hatred seemed to be targeted toward himself and had caused him to lose his mentality.

This leads to Michael's final action of not knowing how to react or what to do and instead, choose to fly back to Heaven. Before the event, Michael and the other 2 seraphims were portrayed as those that were fanatic purely towards "God" alone and would destroy everything for the sake of "God". So, it wouldn't be surprising and perhaps, event expected, that Michael would at least call Lucifer a traitor and swear he would be the one to take his life. The new event, however, definitely showed that's not the case and the seraphims are capable of being affectionate towards others as Michael ends up crying and leave without a word, seemingly from heart break.

All of this makes me think what Lucifer and the angels had was like the relationship between "God" and the angels. Both loved each other yet even "God" had reached his limit with the amount of atrocities the angels were committing for "his sake". I want to think it's because how precious the angels were to him as were the rest of the races he created that "God" wasn't able to have the heart to actually discipline them. And since he didn't want to lay his hands on them, this issue had become one of the reasons as to why he disappeared along with the possibility of wanting to be with Solomon - to punish them and have them realize the crimes they have committed. Nothing is confirmed and we have to wait for more information to drop but if this ends up being confirmed, it's obvious it only served to worsen the angels behavior.

There's a ton of questions still left that makes future content from PB more looking forwards to! Especially with lore behind the demons that are older than the seven kings as Lucifer ended up being "newest" and seventh king of Hell but is called the oldest from the previous event featuring Orias + Og!Gamigin was the one that found Drago!Gamigin and gave his entire being for the other's survival on top of the already existence hints with Gusion and Satan being king before Lucifer.

[twidara]

NANA Analysis: the bathtub theory, love and self-destruction.

TW: suicide and self-harm

⚠️SPOILERS

This isn’t a topic widely discussed due to the abrupt hiatus of NANA, but our dear Ai Yazawa loves to work with foreshadowing, and we have enough clues to consider that something really bad happened between the two timelines.

Nana is a realistic work, and we can see representations of self-destructive behaviors in many characters. When it comes to Nana Osaki and Nana Komatsu (whom I'll refer to as Hachi to make things easier), we can see these behaviors manifesting with anyone they love.

Due to her abandonment trauma, when Nana feels love for someone this can bring out her worst side: possessiveness, selfishness, jealousy, and envy. Ren is Nana’s first love, and through him, she forms a special connection with music and be singer becomes her dream. However, Nana considers her dreams and her pride more important than anything else.

For Hachi, love is more idealized�� she follows the ‘formula’: fall in love > date > get married > have children > happily ever after. But Hachi doesn't just idealize love, she also idealizes who she loves.

So I think that ‘love’ becomes a self-destructive emotion for both of them. When Nana feels abandoned by those she loves (Ren and Hachi < mainly this woman), she experiences mental gaps (forgets about what she done and what happen) and also hyperventilates. Nana briefly talks about her mental gaps when she remembers the memory of her mother left her behind in the snow (while wearing red heels, which Nana realizes may not be a reliable memory). Also, she and Ren have this toxic relationship with no perspective for future, which hurts them a lot.

Then… we have Hachi, who has an insatiable desire to be loved, and this becomes ‘the compass’ for all the bad decisions she’ll make throughout her journey. Groomed by an older man in high school, moves to Tokyo with many dreams and ends up getting cheated on, and meets Takumi. Well, you already know the rest. The problem with this Nana isn’t particularly in how she loves people; she can be selfish at times, but her love is genuine, she’s not the priority. Like Nana Osaki says she’s a ‘puppy’: you kick the puppy, it gets hurt, but then the puppy always comes back to you. Hachi’s problem is that she has no self-love, pride won't be a problem, she's able to see herself as the villain in any situation (even with Takumi).

The relationships between Ren and Nana, and Hachi and Takumi are toxic in different ways. We can see both Nanas struggling with the frustration of these relationships. Nana hurts her pride so she can have some control over Ren, but it doesn’t really work.

Nana: [You can't make people do what you want. Even if you cry... or shout... or cling to them.]

And even though Hachi tries to follow this 'formula', she can’t fill the emptiness inside her, living a life full of regrets.

Hachi: [It's like the jealousy of a woman who wasn't capable of being happy... Always acting on stage, alone, running in circles no matter what she did.]

Let’s get to the point: What happened in the bathtub? I’ll start with the numerous foreshadowings about self-harm and drowning in water. I've lost count of how many times Junko and Kyosuke talked about this:

Kyosuke: [That’s scary… she might even slit her wrists, who knows.]

Junko: [Girl... I was knocking so hard for so long. I was scared you’d slit your wrists with a razor blade! (I could see it all... Blood spurting out...)]

and there's more and more... let's skip

So for some reason, everyone is convinced that Hachi is going to cut her wrists because of a heartbreak, which never even crosses her mind lol, as we can see she had other plans:

Hachi: [That night... If Nana hadn’t been there for me... I would have thrown myself into the Tama river. I’m sure of that.]

The irony is… when it comes to representations of drowning or anything related to water, Nana is the focus. We have this scene in manga, and in anime opening, we see a lot of scenes of Nana drowning.

The bathtub is more symbolic between Nana and Ren; Ren was constantly using the bathtub to ‘drown in drugs’, Reira and Takumi seem aware of this. But again, the bathtub is also extremely symbolic between Nana and Hachi, we can see some intimate moments there. And of course, Ai Yazawa wants to make us freak out. When we are convinced that Nana is the one who got hurt in the bathtub, it relates back to Hachi when she talks to Miu:

Later in the ‘present’ timeline, we’ll also see Nobu worried about Hachi while se prepares a bath for him, but Hachi is someone who could be greatly affected by a possible suicide attempt from Nana. Nana also has that death pact with Ren, in last chapters, we can see that her situation it’s not good, she’s still clinging to love to live, in this case, holding on to Hachi. To be fair, Hachi is also in a terrible situation, she’s pregnant; her hormones are all over the place, and the postpartum it’s cruel.

But I don’t think Ai Yazawa would repeat what’s happened with Shin’s mother, although Hachi is very close to that role now; after all, no matter what others think, ‘I’m his mother’. The situation of Shin’s mother it’s a parallel to Hachi’s pregnancy at certain points, especially since Yazawa wants to keep the mystery of the baby’s paternity.

Anyway, Nana, all we know is that she disappeared and everyone thought she was dead, with rumors like ‘She died at sea’.

Nana: [Any place was fine with me… As long as I could see the sea. I can die whenever I want… As long as I know the sea’s nearby. I came here… Looking for a place to die. So why… am I still here?]

The only doubt in my mind is that the women of the Osaki family are naturally runaways. Nana could have simply run away from the start. But she’s still the strong candidate, since she mentions that Hachi saved her life and since BOTH are named Nana, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hachi was just a misleading clue all this time. Junko and Kyosuke calls Hachi for her name (Nana), but maybe I’m just overthinking.

Is getting long, so to wrap up, I want to talk about the meaning of the name Ren (蓮), especially since we have two characters named Ren in Nana. The lotus flower in Buddhism represents the belief in samsara, the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Also, is often seen as a symbol of purity because it rises and blooms beautifully above the muddy waters from which it grows. This imagery represents the idea of achieving spiritual purity despite difficult circumstances.

Nana’s Ren is dead, and given everything he represented to her, it’s entirely understandable that she feels lost. On the other hand, Hachi’s Ren has yet to be born, and it’ll likely be her greatest point of development. Although Nana seems strong enough to overcome anything, she’s not, while Hachi, who is seen as fragile, manages to persist through difficulties. It’s as if their roles initially invert: Hachi gains strength, and Nana weakens (I'm just making a comparison with the beginning of the story). Nana and Hachi continue to live with the hope that ‘Life is about getting knocked down over and over, but still getting up each time. If you keep getting up, you win’. This is something Nana learned from Ren and taught to Hachi. It’s simply beautiful how, despite everything, their love for each other is what keeps them strong, even when apart; love has become a form of healing for Nana and Hachi.

I've wanted to write about this for a while, now that I’ve read NANA 777 times, I can talk about it with more confidence hehe.

[libraryofloveletters]

New Year, New Challenges.

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Warnings: heavy content warning ahead! - all the children are over 18!, cheating/publicized cheating, swearing, fights, separation of parents/divorce, alcohol and the consumption of, pregnancy mentions, abortions and medication relating to said topic, lots of tears, a few punches are thrown, throwing up, blood mentions, family therapy sessions, the dads are in over their heads, Charles is bamboozled as is Carlos and Pierre (all separate reasons), drunk teenagers, google translated French and Spanish. 

Word Count: 4.9k

Author’s Note: so many of you guys have been asking for an update to daddy and me + three, so here it is! it's a jam packed on so hopefully this holds y’all over lmao - there is heavy content in this, please check warnings before reading. 

Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist

---

Oliver’s 19th birthday was set to be an affair as dramatic as he was; booze, flair and fun was what the invite read when he showed you a few weeks back. 

As most events started, all of the children rounded up at the Leclerc house and headed out from there, the 6 of them heading to dinner with Georgina and Adrian meeting them there before they head to the club for the night. 

It was approaching 3:30 in the morning when the front door swung open - you, Charles and Carlos were all sitting in the kitchen. Sofia’s voice was coming from the foyer, the intensity matches the clicks of her heels on the tile floors.

Her father was waiting for her, the two of them would be on a flight heading to Spain in a few hours for her grandfather’s birthday. Hence why he was at yours, knowing that the kids would be getting in late and he figured it was best for her to freshen up by yours and head to the airport from there. 

What he wasn’t expecting were the words coming out of her mouth; “fuck you Christopher! You’re just like my fucking father. I refuse to end up like my mother.” 

The look of sheer mortification that covered her face when she saw her father in the kitchen was enough to make her sick to her stomach; the sudden taste of tequila creeps up the back of her throat before she runs out the backdoor. 

You could see the horror on Carlos’s face, the heartbreak setting in but her words replaying in his head as he realized what she said to Christopher, the man in the doorway. 

“You cheated on my daughter?!” Carlos shouts at him, already out of his seat. Charles was up right after him, putting himself between his son and his friend. 

Charles looks at you, his hands against his friend’s shoulders to push him back. Christopher was already rattling on an explanation to Carlos as soberly as he could and you took that as your chance to go out and check on Sofia. 

“Sof?” You called, stepping into the yard. 

The soft sniffles came from the swing set in the corner of the yard; you could see a figure in the dark, the light on the back patio brightened the yard just enough to make her out. As you made your way over to her, you thought back to the time she was 6 years old and Christopher had broken her favourite doll. She was in fits until Charles glued it back together for her but the entire time, she hid outside on the swings.

“Darling,” you rested a gentle hand on your shoulder, careful not to startle her. She turned to you in tears, her makeup smudged as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

You can’t help but feel sorry for the girl, your heart breaking into pieces when you pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into your chest as you rubbed her back. 

You sat next to her on the empty swing. “What for?” 

“For causing a scene, I didn’t mean to lose it like that.” 

“It’s okay,” you reached over to pat her hand. “You’ve got your father’s flare for dramatics.” You joked, hoping to lighten the mood. The mention of her father caused the tears to start again and you’ve gotten up, hugging the girl once again. 

“I didn’t know he was there.” 

“I know, and it's okay. He knows you didn’t mean it to hurt him.” You looked down at the girl, your hands cupping her face; she looked so innocent and little. You can feel the pieces of your heart breaking as you look at her. “It's okay to be mad at your dad, given everything that’s happened.. and Christopher too.” 

You weren’t even sure if he did cheat on her, you prayed to god that he didn’t but the last thing she needed at the moment was you taking his side over hers. 

Sofia has had a hard few months; her father’s cheating was publicized all over the news in Spain and all over social media through the racing community, her parents’ picture-perfect marriage fell apart in front of her and she watched as her mother packed her bags, along with her sisters and moved back home to Spain. Sofia stayed in Monaco for school and her father stayed with her; despite the cheating, which she knew he did, she didn’t side with her mother. 

She had always been Carlos’s favourite and she knew as much - it wasn’t fair to her for her to feel like she couldn't be mad at him because of that. 

“I know I should hate him,” she sniffled, pulling away from you. “I can’t.. he’s my dad.” 

“I know baby, I know.” You wiped her face with the inner side of your shirt. “Do you want to talk to him? I can ask him to come out here.” 

“Could you?” 

“Of course,” you smiled at the girl, kissing her forehead before walking back to the house. 

The three men were all on guard, waiting for one of the three to swing first. It felt a bit odd to be walking into something like that but you cleared your throat when you walked through the back door. 

“She wants to talk to you.” You say and Christopher takes a step towards you but you hold your hand out to stop him. “Not you,” you turn to Carlos, “you.” 

In the moments it takes you to tell Carlos what Sofia said, Charles is pulling Christopher away to the living room. You follow them once the backdoor slides shut. 

“You cheated on her?” You started on your son, “I cannot fucking believe you’d do that to her!” 

“Mom, I didn’t-” 

“Christopher, do not lie to me. Sofia is the best thing to happen to you, that girl has been in love with you since you were ten years old and you cheated on her? What quick fuck could possibly be worth breaking her heart?!” 

“Maman!!” Christopher shouts, his French coming out when he was flustered. “I did not cheat on her!”

You looked at Charles, your husband silent as he listened to his son explain for the second time since he got home what had gone down that night. “Sofia was getting a drink and Georgina comes up to me-” 

The mention of your son’s best friend puts you on edge; she’s a wonderful girl but you knew Sofia was wary of her and Christopher does stupid things when he’s drunk. 

“She was pissed, drunk like there’s no tomorrow and she was asking about Adrain who was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t leave her like that, ma. I had to help her, so she's clinging to me and I'm practically holding her at this point and I drag her through the club to find Adrian. Sofia saw us and assumed something had happened between us; that we kissed. “ 

“And.. did you.. kiss?” You looked at him, hoping for a no.

Christopher shook his head, “ew no! I love Georgina like a sister, mom. I would never cross that line, even if I was drunk. That’s disgusting.” 

You let out a breath of relief you weren’t even aware you were holding. Charles reaches out for you, his hand on your back when you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

These kids will be the death of you. 

“Chris, I love you but sometimes I wonder how you get yourself into these stupid situations.” 

“What was I supposed to do, mom? Leave my best friend drunk and alone?” 

“No, you did the right thing but you knew this is something that’s sensitive to Sof; give her time to cool off before you talk to her, let her fix things with her dad, yeah?”  

“Yeah.” He nods, sighing. You give his arm a squeeze, turning back to look at your husband and before you could speak, the front door is being swung open again. 

Eloise is singing Elton John’s I'm still standing on the top of her lungs and terribly off key - something she picked up from her father- but it was beyond obvious that the girl was drunk. 

Charles is rushing over to Anthony, the boy struggling to keep his girlfriend up as she was over his shoulder. 

You knew your husband was as pissed off as Ellie was drunk but he needed to hold it together. 

She’s his baby, she always will be even though she’s 18 now and old enough to drink; he knew she did it but he never expected her to come up drunk off her ass. 

“What happened?” He asked, helping Anthony put her down. The boy looked like he was about to collapse as well - surely he was drunk too, just not as bad as Eloise was. 

“Uncle Cha, I don’t even know man.” He ran a hand down his face, “she was beside me and next thing you knew, she was drunk and dancing with some girl she just met. I don’t know when she had time to take all of those shots.” 

Charles looked back at you, giving you a glare as you pursed your lips and looked away; there were many evenings before all of you had children that Pierre and Charles would have to carry you out the club after you had drunk your body weight in liquor.

The girl dropped herself against her father when she realized he’s there. “Hi papa!” She grinned at him, goofily you might add.

His face twists when he smells the liquor on him but he still brushes the hair away from her face as he used to do when she was little. “Ma belle, what happened?”

She shrugs, “dunno daddiooooo.” 

You bit back a chuckle, noticing a shadow coming from the front door - you really needed to lock your door. 

“Oh tu es là, bien.” (oh there you are, good.) Pierre pats his son on the shoulder. You looked at your husband’s best friend, confused as to why he's at your house at 4 in the morning. 

“Anto said they were coming here, I figured I'd come and see if you needed help with the kids,” he fills you in and Ellie turns in her father’s arms when she hears the familiar voice. 

“Uncle Pierre!” She squeals, stumbling towards her boyfriend’s father. 

The Frenchman catches the girl, glancing at you the same way your husband did minutes ago when she clings to him. “Quelqu'un s'est amusé ce soir, pas vous ? Je peux sentir l'alcool, ma chérie.” (Somebody had fun tonight, didn't you? I can smell the liquor, sweetheart.) 

She giggled at her uncle, holding onto him. “Oui, enfin du bon fun.” (Yes, finally some good fun.) 

Charles had looked more worried now than he did when he found the pregnancy test in her room. Pierre gives his friend a look, “I got her,” he tells him, picking up the girl. 

He held her, carrying her like a princess as she used to say as a kid when Pierre took her to bed; some things never changed. Anthony followed his father upstairs while you comforted your husband over the changing of times. He went to check on Carlos and Sofia while you got some water and something for Ellie to eat to sober up. 

Pierre puts the girl down on her bed, pulling her shoes off so she can get comfortable. Anthony replaces his father by her bedside while he goes to get the trash can. 

Eloise reaches for her boyfriend’s hand, looking at him with eyes full of tears. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, knuckles brushing over her soft cheek. She sniffles, holding back the tears. 

“I wish I had kept it,” Eloise whispers to him and Anthony looks at the girl, confused. “Wish you kept what, amour?” 

“The baby.” 

Pierre was right outside her door but he froze, off to the side as he heard the words; he knew he should leave, he shouldn't be listening to their conversation but he couldn't pull himself away. 

“What baby, Eloise?” Anthony’s eyes scan her face for some sort of an answer. 

“Our baby.” 

“We never had a baby.” 

“We almost did.” She whispers to him, the tears rolling down her face.

“Wha- the test was negative, Ellie. You weren’t pregnant. You’re drunk, mon ange. Get some rest, you don’t know what you’re talk-” 

“I was pregnant, Anthony.” Eloise stops him, forcing herself to sit up. “The test my dad found.. that was after.” 

Anthony’s brain is running in overdrive, his heart pumping out of his chest as he takes in all the information she dropped on him. “After what?” He asks and she doesn’t answer. 

He grabbed her hand, pulling slightly to get her focus back. “After what, Eloise?” 

Her eyes met his ocean blue ones, the same eyes she could see her whole future in and now, it felt as if it was disappearing from her. 

“Eloise, answer me.” 

“After the abortion.” 

Anthony sat there in silence; his head spinning as he tried to make sense of it. She was pregnant with his baby, their baby and she.. got rid of it?

It didn’t make sense. 

Eloise loved him and Anthony loved her, she’d never do that. 

The tears rolled down her fair cheeks, her hands gripping his wrists. “Anto.. please, say something.” 

“You were pregnant, with our baby.” He finally brings himself to speak. She nods, unable to talk without breaking down further into tears. “Why.. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you tell anyone?” 

“Gabe knew,” she whispers, “he took me.” 

Anthony was seeing red at this point; partly toward Eloise for getting the abortion and not telling him but mostly towards his brother in law for taking her. Anthony loved Eloise with every fibre of his being, he'd give his life for hers if that meant she'd be happy; he would have dropped everything to raise a family with her. 

HIs heart shattered into a million pieces over what could have been. 

He didn’t stop to think how she must have felt to go through that alone when he stormed out the room. “Anthony, please!” She shouted after him, far too weak to get up. 

Anthony sees his father by Eloise’s room when he rounds the corner to the stairs. Pierre gave his son an apologetic look, his own sense of distraught coming into play for both his son and his son’s girlfriend.

The man finds her in tears, her hand pressed to her chest as she tries to breathe. Pierre rushes to her side, holding her as he rubbed her back; “slow breaths, princess. In and out. I'm right here.” 

Anthony’s heavy footsteps caused Charles to look into the hallway, about to shout for the boy but he was already out the door, the wooden door slamming shut. 

“Jesus,” you huffed, looking from the kitchen. “What was that about?” You asked your husband, the man glanced at you, the door and then up the stairs. 

You can see his train of thought in front of you and you’re behind him the moment he heads up the stairs. Charles is rushing into the room, sitting on the other side of Eloise, both her father and his best friend doting over the girl. You wanted to join them but you stayed by the end of the bed, figuring that she’d been a bit of space. 

Judging by the look on her face and who just ran out the front door, you were almost certain you knew what had happened upstairs. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Charles rubbed her arm. She can't bring herself to speak, looking at you to fill in her father. Charles follows her glance and looks at you, “babe.. what’s-” 

“Was it the..” you trailed off, and she nodded. 

Pierre takes that as his sign to step out, giving you two some privacy with your daughter. “She had an abortion, Charles.” 

The shock was written across your husband’s face but he said nothing, instead he held your daughter as she cried. 

He was in shock; he didn’t even know she was pregnant and you knew? You never said anything to him but that was a conversation between you two best left for another time.

Charles goes to say something to you but there’s a loud shout coming from outside and you rush over to the window, checking to see what it was. The boys were shouting at each other, Gabriel on the floor with Anthony screaming at him. 

You look back at your husband, yet another wordless exchange and you rush downstairs. 

Outside, the scene unfolds; Anthony punches Gabriel square across the jaw when he sees him. “What the fuck?!” Oliver shouts, helping his boyfriend up. 

“Why the fuck did you punch me?” Gabriel groaned, rubbing his jaw. 

Anthony’s cheeks were covered in tears, the blind rage he was in fuelling his hatred for Gabriel at the moment. “How could you do that? To me? To your sister?” He shouted, going to hit Gabriel again. 

Oliver looks between the men, realizing he's clearly missing a piece of the puzzle. “Babe, what did you do?” He asked, a bit afraid of the answer he was about to get. 

Anthony answers for him; “he took her for an abortion.” 

“Ellie was pregnant ?” Oliver turned to Gabriel, the surprise in his tone and on his face showed Anthony that it was in fact a secret. 

Gabriel doesn’t even have the chance to answer when Anthony swings on him again. Gabriel reacts quickly, punching Anthony before he can get to him. Pierre was coming out when he heard the noise, as was Carlos from the back yard. 

“Hey!” Pierre shouts, you watched from the front step unsure what to do. “Charles!” You shouted from your husband, “hurry!” You shouted again.

Christopher takes this as his chance to see what was happening, slipping past you when he sees the fight. You couldn’t even grab him, the younger twin rushing to defend his brother. Carlos and Pierre are trying to pull them apart, Sofia was shouting at them to stop and poor Oliver was sick, the boy hunched over in your bushes, throwing up what was consumed at the club. Charles comes down and rushes out when he sees them, you walk over to check on Oliver.

At some point after Oliver stops puking, the dads manage to separate the boys; Chris with his father, Gabriel with Carlos and Anthony with Pierre. 

There’s two people walking up your driveway; Georgina and Adrian. 

It was nearly 6am now, the sun starting to cast an orangish hue over Monaco and you needed everyone inside before the streets got busy again. You hold Oliver’s arm to keep him up, “alright that’s enough! Everyone in the fucking house!” You finally raised your voice despite all the chaos, sending everyone into the house. 

The front door was locked after you walked in; a part of you wanted to put a no strays sign considering the amount of drama you’ve had over the last two hours. 

With all the noise, Ellie had come down and ended up joining all of you in the living room. All 8 kids squished onto the couch and on the floor in front of it as you and the dads watched from the fireplace. 

Per usual, they've left you to clean the mess - starting off the makeshift family therapy session. 

“We're gonna solve this in order, okay? I don’t want to hear a word until you're spoken too.” The kids nod, all of them feeling some sense of shame, but they sat there quietly. 

You turned to Anthony, “why’d you punch Gabriel?” 

“Because of..” he trailed off, not wanting to air his dirty laundry to those who didn’t already know. 

Those who knew, understood why he acted the way he did. 

Eloise looked sick, like she was gonna throw up all over the rug and her brother noticed as much, Christopher wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder, handing her his water bottle. Gabriel butts in, defending himself and his sister. “You can’t be mad, Anto. I only did what was asked of me, I never forced anything on her. She knew if she wanted to keep it, we would have helped her.” 

Anthony looked over at his girlfriend, the sadness and regret mixed across her face. 

She had her father’s fair complexion but never had you seen her look so pale. 

“It’s true,” she says quietly, “Gabe didn’t force me to do anything; he sat with me, made sure I was what I really wanted to do and at the time, it was. I was 17 Anthony, you had just turned 18 - we weren’t ready for that.” 

The room fell silent, the fathers behind you exchanged looks to try and fill each other quietly so they could understand what was happening. 

“I assume Gabriel hit you back in self defence,” you glanced between Anthony and Gabriel before turning to Christopher, “but you, god Chris,” you groaned. “You make some stupid decisions sometimes; why'd you have to get involved?” 

“He was punching my brother, mom. You can’t expect me not to defend him.” 

Charles looks at you, giving your hand a squeeze. “Dites-leur de laisser tomber. Nous n'avons pas besoin de plus de combats.” (Tell them to let it go. We don't need more fighting.) He says to you quietly, you nod in agreement. Pierre got the just of it, nodding to the plan of action. 

“Okay if no one had anything else to add, we're gonna drop this stupid ass fight. What’s happened is all said and done, you're all gonna drop it, yes?” 

You look at your sons and your daughter’s boyfriend, the 3 of them answering with some version of yes. Oliver raises his hand, you nod in his direction waiting for him to speak. 

“I just wanted to say,” he leans over Gabriel to look at Anthony, “that was a weak ass punch.” 

Anthony wasn’t having it with his friend, reaching over Gabriel to smack him but Christopher pulls him back before he can get to him. 

You huff, roll your eyes at the dramatics. “Thank you for that very helpful piece of information, Oli.” 

Oliver grinned, giving you a thumbs up. “Always my pleasure, auntie.” 

In this moment, you can’t help but see Max in Oliver; the wicked grin on his face was identical to his father’s. He was the spitting image of Max, ways and all.

Pierre snickers from behind you and you turn, glaring at the man. He raises his hands in defence, “I can’t help it, that was funny.” Anthony rolls his eyes at his father’s comment but sinks back into the couch. 

The living room was quiet once again and before you get the chance to speak, Georgina starts. “I don’t know what I did to you, but why are you giving me the nastiest look on the planet ?” She purses her lips, looking over at Sofia. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you did.” 

Christopher rests his hand on Sofia’s thigh, which she pushes away. “Sof, please. Don’t start.” 

“No, please do.” Georgina tells her, sitting up a bit more. “What did I do to you?” 

Sofia scoffs, rolling her eyes at Georgina’s lack of self awareness. “You being drunk doesn't excuse the fact that you kissed my boyfriend.” 

Adrian turns to his girlfriend so fast that he’s given himself whiplash, rubbing his neck when he goes, “huh?” 

“I did not kiss Chris! That’s so gross, I mean no offense Chris but like.. ew.” The disgust was evident on her face, looking at her best friend and his girlfriend. “Chris was helping me over to Adrian, I lost him in the club.” 

“So you two didn’t kiss?” Sofia looks between the two friends. 

Chris and Georgina both answer at the same time; “No!” 

She felt a bit bad for the events that had occurred that evening; her screaming match with Christopher, the words she said to her father and about Georgina but nonetheless, she brushed away the feeling. 

“Okay,” she nods, “sorry for assuming.” She says, getting up. “Papá, deberíamos irnos. No queremos perder nuestro vuelo.” (Dad, we should go. We don't want to miss our flight.)  

Carlos nods, getting up from his spot by the fireplace. You turn to your friend, “¿Ustedes dos están bien?” (Are you two okay?) 

He nods, speaking quietly. “Tenemos trabajo que hacer, pero estaremos bien.” (We've got work to do, but we'll be fine.) You smile, giving him a hug before you let him and Sofia walk out. 

Christopher follows them to the door, giving Sofia a hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers to him, kissing his cheek. He nods, “it’s okay, babe. Have a safe flight, yeah? Text me when you land.” 

“I will,” she smiles, giving him one more squeeze before stepping out. Carlos pats Chris on the shoulder on his way out. 

Georgina was yawning, leaning on Adrian. “Can we just stay here?” He asked you, and you nod. “Of course sweetheart, you know you guys can stay here anytime.” 

“I’ll make the guest room up for you two,” Charles says, getting up and walking down the hallway. 

“I’ll help,” Georgina announces, getting up to follow uncle Charles as the kids deemed him many years ago, down the hallway. 

Oliver gets up as well, helping Gabriel up. “We’re off to bed!” He calls, linking arms with his boyfriend as he holds a tissue to Gabriel's nose. Your oldest looks at you, giving you an apologetic look for the mess he’s made. 

You walk over, kissing his cheek. “It's okay baby,” you held his jaw softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. 

“I’ll help him get cleaned up,” Oliver tells you, nodding to the now dried blood on Gabriel’s face. You smile, giving Oliver’s arm a squeeze before they head upstairs. 

You started clearing up the living room, tidying up the ruckus the boys made on their way in. Anthony gets up, walking over to Eloise. He kneels in front of his girlfriend who looks at him, the tears staining her pale cheeks. 

“Amour,” he starts, holding her jaw. You and Adrian take that as a hint to leave, he helps you pick up a few things and take it to the kitchen. “I love you, no matter what, okay?” He tells her. 

Eloise leans into her boyfriend, her forehead pressed to his. “Will you stay tonight?” 

“Not tonight,” he whispers. “I just.. I need some space tonight.” Eloise nods, understanding that this was a lot of spring on him, she could beg him to stay but it’d do neither of them any good. 

“I love you, always. I’ll be by tomorrow, okay?” He tells her when he stands. 

She nods, “I love you, Anthony.” She looks up at her and he gives her a small smile, the sadness not able to fully hide behind it. Anthony leans down, giving her a kiss before walking away. She blinks away the tears, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Pierre walks over to her, kissing the top of her head. 

“It’ll be okay,” he tells her quietly, “you’ll be okay, I promise.” He smiles at the girl, giving her a hug. “I hope so.” She whispers and he nods, “you will be.” 

She can hear Christopher and Anthony speaking in the hallway, eventually her brother comes into the living room and helps her up. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”  He holds her to his side as they walk to the stairs. 

“Can I stay with you?” She asks, not wanting to be alone tonight. 

It reminded him of when they were younger and she’d swear she won’t get scared, begging to watch a horror movie with him and Gabriel. In the end, the three of them were squished into one bed because they were too scared to be alone. 

Christopher nods, “of course.” 

Adrian yawns, leaning on the counter as you filled the glasses with water. You slide two over to him, one for him and one for Georgina. “Did you tell your parents you were staying here? So they’re not looking for you?” 

“Yeah, my dad knows we're here but I couldn’t get ahold of Georgina’s parents.” 

“I’ll text George, don’t worry.” You tell him. 

Adrian takes a sip of his water before getting off the stool. “Is it always this crazy here?” 

You can’t help but laugh, “this is a regular Saturday for us, kid.” You walk him to the guest room, Charles was in the hallway getting extra pillows. “You get some sleep, it’s late.. or early? You know what I mean,” you give him a kiss on the temple before Charles hands him the pillows, the two of you leaving them to get some rest. 

Charles grabs your hand, sighing as you two walk to the couch. The curtains were wide open, the sun had risen and the clock on the wall ticked with each passing second - 7:23am. 

You looked over at him when you sat down, your husband’s head tipped back and his eyes closed. You can’t help but reach out and stroke his cheek - “remember when you wanted more kids?” You asked quietly, earning a laugh and a groan from him. 

He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a sleepy smile. “Thank you for telling me no.” 

Now you're laughing, leaning over to give him a kiss. “I love you, Charles.” 

“I love you, y/n. I don’t know what I'd do without you.” 

“Probably lose your mind?” 

He drops his face into your shoulder, nodding. “Most definitely.” 

--- 

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[rainy-writers]

poor pitiful greens, who would’ve been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne. They had every right to usurp her because obviously they and their children deserve to live…obviously they deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, little Joffery, Aegon, Viserys, Baela and Rhaena who also would’ve been slaughtered had the Greens succeeded, right?

It kills me when people say that the greens would have been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne because they were too much of a challenge and use that to justify usurping her. Like you do realize…if they’re a challenge to Rhaenyra and her kids then it’s vice versa? If they can’t live while Rhaenyra reigns then that means Rhaenyra’s kids can’t either. But apparently it’s okay for Jace, Luke, Joffery, Viserys, Aegon, Baela and Rhaena to die if it means your favs get to win. All of a sudden, you’re okay with children dying if it means a man can now rule Westeros. A woman and her innocent children dying is okay to you because what? It’s “normal for a woman to rule?” Aegon should be King because…he’s a man? Because Viserys spent years advocating for him, right? Because this rapist, abuser piece of shit and his psychotic brothers who burned millions and allowed for the rape of little girls are somehow better than their sister who only raised taxes?

Alicent can fear for her children’s lives against the woman who’d never even think about harming them, but Rhaenyra can’t fear for her kids—who Alicent literally tried to get executed for years?

And don’t give that bullshit: the Greens would never!

Uh, canonically, they did! Unprovoked! Before they even got the fucking throne! They did it with Rhaenys and Luke—who, no matter much you call him Strong, is still related to them from Rhaenyra. Team Green has personally harmed their own family, their own blood in broad daylight and have celebrated doing so, so what makes you think they’d spare the rest? What honestly makes you think they’d let them live? Luke was a child, so no, even the children wouldn’t be spared.

Alicent has spent over twenty years fear mongering and terrorizing her own children to the point where it just could not happen. They would execute every single one of the Team Black kids down to Visenya if she had lived.

Yes they would’ve killed two year old little Aegon and Viserys and they’d have been happy to do it. Lest we not forget these are the same people who threw a party, canonically, when Luke was killed so…yeah. Aemond and Daeron probably would’ve forcibly married Baela and Rhaena and raped them…But that’s okay to you people, right? Because at least it isn’t happening to the fucking misogynist Greens who didn’t deserve the throne anyways.

The difference between them and Rhaenyra is that she has never given any indications that she thinks Kinslaying is right. Book or show, Rhaenyra understands the weight of such titles and what it would mean. She understands it would forever stain the name Targaryen if she killed not one, but SIX members of her own family. Obviously it’s this fucking Rhaneyra that would’ve killed them all though, right? It’s Rhaenyra, and not the Greens or her idiot brothers who canonically been classified as Kinslayers and usurpers, who would not have let TG live.

Book or show, you cannot even argue that they’re not Kinslayers because hopefully even TG stans aren’t so delusional to outright deny what we’ve seen. Which means that YES, they would’ve killed all those kids and then used their big scary dragons to terrorize anyone who didn’t agree—as they did the exact same media you’re seeing them in.

In the same book or show, nothing ever indicates that Rhaenyra would kill them. In fact, she actively gives them a chance to bend the knee after they kill her son, and furthermore, she does not spend years terrorizing her children with the idea they’ll be slaughtered so they have to kill the other side, even the children, because if not they’ll do the same to them.

The only difference in this scenario is that the people who raised the TB kids would have spared the Greens, while the people who have been raised to be hateful and spiteful against even the innocent people in their family would’ve given the TB kid’s death not second thought.

You guys simply don’t understand the tabooness of Kinslaying, and it’s becoming a popular trend that people think you can just get away with it and nothing will happen. You cannot just go around killing people of your own fucking family with no consequences. No matter how delusional you and Alicent might be, it cannot happen without major consequences. It’s the main reason majority of Westeros DID NOT support the greens bc it’s an AWFUL thing to do. There is nothing worse to the people of Westeros than a Kinslayer, not even a rapist. It is the ultimate crime to commit and it shows your lack of understanding of this world if you think Rhaenyra would just do this. Even if you don’t like her, her character was described as someone that would NEVER.

Meanwhile, you know who went down in history for doing this? Not once but twice? And one of those was a child? You know who still fucking did and was willing to keep doing it until an entire side of their family was wiped out?

The Greens.

The difference between them and Team Black is that TG spent twenty years harboring hate for a woman and her kids who did not even give them a second thought. It’s almost laughable how unimportant they were to Rhaenyra until the day they killed her son. The day Aemond killed Luke and Aegon threw a feast to celebrate the worst crime imaginable to a Kingdom he was supposed to rule, is the day you should’ve realized how different and how much more deserving Rhaenyra Targaryen is compared to her monster brothers.

I do not fucking care that Alicent was young and dumb and manipulated once. The women who poisoned her own children, the woman who was willing to kill a fucking newborn and said I quote,

“I hope the whore dies in childbirth.” Was a grown ass adult and would not show an inch of mercy. Even show!Alicent would have no choice, because it was her idiot planning that put her psychopath of a son in the ultimate position of power so she couldn’t even stop it if she tried.

So tell me, what makes you think Helaena, Aemond, Aegon (who were all adults during the dance, mind you), Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Viserys, Visenya (possibly), or anyone that stood as a threat to Aegon’s reign?

Surely you can’t say it’s because Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys are just children.

You root for the one Team whose succession will end up with them all dead, as canonically it did, instead of the woman that would’ve spared them. Book or show, there’s never any evidence she would harm them unlike the literal people you root for. There’s only one scenario where everyone lives and it’s when Rhaenyra Targaryen sit the throne. Because we’ve seen how well it turned out for those kids and everyone when she was usurped, so rooting for Team Green bc you want to ‘spare the children’ is a contradiction in itself.

Or, just say you’re a misogynistic asshole like we already know and be done with it.

[takusan-no-ai]

Moi aussi, je t'aime

PAIRING: Navia x Male Reader (Romantic) (Angst)

SUMMARY: (Y/N), eldest son and future chief of L'ombre Masqué, has known Navia since childhood. Though after a falling out that lasted years, a reunion quickly becomes less than pleasant for both parties when a proposal is made.

Spina di Rosula and L’ombre Masqué weren’t always on bad terms. Both used to be the pioneers of Fontaine, but such a time has been long forgotten. Navia wasn’t a stranger to the strife that plagued the relations between the two.

During her childhood, there was one such man that she’d never forget, Adélard, her father and mother’s business partner. He was always there for expanding business opportunities, claiming territory, and advancing the congregation of both groups. That all went downhill when Callas didn’t want to cut the living expenses for his workers.

Adélard tried to convince him they were a waste of money, and Callas had none of it. Navia bore witness to the argument, as did a certain boy; Adélard’s son and future heir, (Y/N). He wasn’t as crude as his father, not by a long shot, but Callas worried he might grow to be with such a bad environment, to then influence Navia and the other youth, so he forbid Adélard from visiting ever again.

“And Since then L’ombre Masqué has been Fontaines most morally bankrupt and greedy organization since. Their members families starve while they eat on a diamond platter. Their system’s hierarchy encouraging backstabbing, trickery, and corruption. All we can do is hope that one day they mend their ways.” Navia spoke to the gathered children.

Since the flooding of Poisson, the Spina di Rosula has been hard at work to fix everything, alas, such a goal has high expenses and requires extensive man power; something Poisson was currently lacking, especially after the deaths of Melus and Silver.

“Are they all bad, Navia?” One little girl asked. All the other children zeroed in, awaiting her answer.

“No…,”–she froze for just a moment, only to then smile,–“They’re not all bad. Some still have their morals. And with L’ombre Masqué’s current leader being quite old, they’ll have to pick a new one soon.” The children nodded in understanding and all got up to play outside.

Navia sunk back onto the stool she had been sitting on, visibly tired from the hard work she’d been busy with. The break didn’t last long however, as many members of Spina di Rosula came rushing towards her. Navia shot up, trying to calm the crowd.

“Relax, please, everyone. Now tell me, what happened?” She asked calmly.

“Boss, it’s horrible! L’ombre Masqué members have lined up outside Poisson!” One man said. Navia’s blood ran cold.

“And that’s not all! Adélard, that old slimy bastard, is here!” One woman said. Navia began to sweat, the creases of her brows tight.

“Please…tell me you’re mistaken. What. Is. Going. On.” Her voice wavered, and the others could easily sense her dread. At that realization, Navia tried to quickly calm herself. She forced herself to stand tall, and braved forward towards the exit of Poisson. That was when she came face to face with him. Adélard.

“Navia…,” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. He was old and frail, likely hitting almost eighty; he was already old to begin with when Navia was little. Seeing him now made her freeze in place.

“It’s really been that long.” She replied. She speedily recovered and forced on a smile. “Adélard, it’s been so long since you’ve last visited. I assume it must be something of great importance for you to show up here?” She asked.

Adélard smiled, it reached his ears, “I’m dying.” Navia and the rest of Spina di Rosula that followed her gasped. “And I have a request to make. Especially without that Callas around…,” he said, the last part being mumbled; though Navia heard it clear as day and didn’t hide her anger.

“And what do YOU want from me, the esteemed president, leader, commander-in-chief, executive director, and Boss of Spina di Rosula.” She boasted.

“You need help rebuilding Poisson, and I need for L’ombre Masqué to live on–”

“Hold it. I’m sure you’re still aware, despite your age, what caused the rift between Spina and L’ombre?”

“Yes. And my son, (Y/N), whom I’m sure you remember, intends to change things for the better.” He said bitterly. “However, he hasn’t and doesn’t seem intent on finding love. I want my bloodline to continue, and for my grandchildren to be the future leaders of L’ombre Masqué.”

Navia didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“L’ombre Masqué is very blessed with mora. We’re willing to give Poisson a restoration fund of one billion mora. Of course that is subject to increase. All you have to do Miss. Navia, is marry my son.”

A crowd was forming outside of Poisson, and everyone heard his proclamation. Everyone began whispering amongst themselves. Some agreed that it could help them, but ultimately, they all believed it wouldn’t be fair to Navia; she’d find a way to help them herself, and she believed this too.

“No.” Was all she said. And then she walked away, from Poisson, from Spina di Rosula, everything. She needed a breather after that. Her members understood and left her to her own devices.

“I’d think it over if I were you! The offer still stands till my death!” Adélard shouted. Navia wanted to scream back at him. But she couldn’t, not when she had a reputation to uphold.

She walked all the way to Café Lutece, where she had a small cup of tea and some macaroons to cheer herself up. “I can’t just ignore that much money, we really are in the red. And I don’t want the others to suffer any longer. But I can’t give up my dignity.” She huffed out in frustration.

“He just had to make that announcement in front of everyone! Now there’ll be talk, whether they intend to pressure me one way or not.” She slumped back down in her chair. From her peripheral vision she saw a young man walk over and ask if he’d seen a woman with a description eerily similar to her own.

“Excuse me sir? Are you looking for…,” Navia had been in the process of asking the man if he was looking for her, but she quieted as he turned around.

(Y/N).

Even though it had been years. She recognized him immediately. And so did he.

“Navia! Listen. My father is going to ask you this really inappropriate request and I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to–”

“It’s okay. I’ve already dealt with it.” She said. (Y/N) sighed in relief, clutching his heart with one hand and wiping off his sweat with the other.

“I was so worried. I didn’t want you to think I signed off on it.” Navia raised her eyebrow.

“Why is that? We haven’t talked in years, surely my opinion can’t mean that much to you.”

(Y/N) stayed silent and rubbed the back of his neck. “Haha…yeah. Well, you’re the boss of Spina di Rosula. Being on your bad side isn’t exactly good.”

Navia lightly punched him on the arm, “Why are you acting all nervous with me? Let’s catch up some. I’ve got a lot to tell you about.”

That was the start of it, meeting up almost everyday. Learning new things about each other. And helping each other. A bond was naturally formed between the two. Of course, (Y/N) still had to care for his father and L’ombre Masqué, so helping Spina di Rosula wasn’t easy to fit into his daily schedule.

His lack of presence on one side, and constant presence on the other caused a strife between both inner groups. Jealousy, pride, and fear were at play. This led to animosity, and that animosity led to violence. Destruction, ambushes, vandalism. Both sides were out of control from seemingly nowhere. And the road appeared endless.

One more night. That was supposed to be the last day they meet up. Navia and (Y/N) met at a riverbank, both wearing bittersweet faces. The moon hang high, and the clouds were thick in the star-filled sky. The two stood next to each other, closer than friends were supposed to.

Navia shivered from the cold air, catching (Y/N)’s breath. He quickly drooped his jacket over her shoulders and hugged closer to her. Navia made no objections.

“My father died today. The doctors said it was a peaceful death.” He said it with such ease, as if it were an everyday thing to mention. Navia looked at his face, noticing the smile he had seemed…off. As if it were a smile of not many, but just one emotion; relief.

“You, seem fine with it.” Navia commented. (Y/N) stopped smiling and looked up at the moon. It reflected off his eyes beautifully, and Navia was getting lost in them. She softly grasped her beating heart.

“Things will only get worse from here on out. Our clans won’t be able to trust each other; not anytime soon at least. It’ll take even more years to fix the strife between us. If it’ll be fixed at all.” He lamented.

“You’re talking as if it can’t be.” Navia was growing nervous, anxious, and confused.

“It’s dead. My father was the last thing keeping it all together. They don’t respect me, not enough to work together with Spina di Rosula. So yes, it’s dead: us, Spina di Rosula, L’ombre Masqué.” Navia grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing (Y/N) to look at her.

“You can’t do that! I won’t allow it! I’ll follow through with the marriage contract if I need to!”–she started to break out into tears, her voice getting caught in her throat–“You can’t leave me! Not now! Not when I love you!”

(Y/N) cupped Navia’s face and leaned forward,

“I love…Spina di Rosula. And I’ll protect it, Poisson, and you forever. But not here.”

“Why can’t you say it?” She asked, still crying.

“Because if I do, I might not be able to let you go.”

“Please. Say it. Say it, or else I’ll wait until I get an answer.”

He kissed her, short and to the point. There might as well have not been a kiss at all. “L’ombre Masqué is leaving Fontaine tomorrow and heading to Liyue. I want you to see me off. I promise…to be an honest man tomorrow.”

Navia nodded and walked off. Before she got too far away however, she turned around and looked at (Y/N). “I’ll never regret falling in love with you.” She went to Poisson and, surprisingly to herself, slept deeply.

The next morning, it was time to see (Y/N) off. Him and all of L’ombre Masqué were already on their respective boats, prepared for the long journey east to Liyue.

Navia was the only Poisson member to see him off. Or so she thought. (Y/N)’s shocked face from his boat caused her to turn around. Behind Navia were countless residents of Poisson, members of Spina di Rosula, and so forth there; even the children she read to days ago had shown up.

“Why are you all…?” She asked in bewilderment.

“Despite our differences with L’ombre Masqué, we know how much a certain member, leader specifically, means to you.” One member said.

“We didn’t want you to feel alone today Miss. Navia!” The kids said in unison. Navia fought back tears as she smiled brightly. She turned back around and waved goodbye to (Y/N) as his crew was ready to leave.

(Y/N) cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Moi aussi, je t'aime!”, tears welling from his eyes.

Navia ran to the edge of the road, as far as she could, and shouted back, “Je t'attendrai!”

They both smiled and waved at each other. Once the strife that lingers is over, they will be reunited. That hope kept them together, no matter how far apart.

Besides, (Y/N) never said anything about Navia visiting.

- Fin

[astray-anomaly]

Equivaltale story, Part 2!!

Make sure to read Part 1 first!

Trigger warnings: Violence, character death, major character death, descriptions of body horror, cult activity, child abuse/neglect, mentions of grooming; physical abuse and sexual abuse, transpobia, child labour

Be mindful of the trigger warnings but this chapter is more calm then the last

The sun beamed bright in the clear sky when the creature started to wake again. They could feel the gentle breeze caress them, the grass and growth lightly brushing against their melted bones.

How long has it been?

Their body moved stiffly as they started observing their surroundings. All the blood dried up and the bodies now hidden in the ground like nothing ever happened. They barely remembered anything, their memories were very fuzzy but all they knew was they were no longer in pain, at least not as terrible as before.

They were cautious but curious of the world around them. Everything felt so new and yet so familiar to them. They explored the village down in the valley, all the buildings now in ruins and reclaimed by the foliage and small wildlife who made homes in the cracks.

In the ruins there were still useful things that they would take, like clothes, books, and anything that they found interesting. Collecting shiny items and small toys, ranging from dolls to wooden figurines. After all they were still a child, they were rediscovering the world but they were far from unintelligent.

They needed to figure out who they were and what happened, that was their goal. Deep down they knew they weren’t always like this, they needed to find the answers to their past.

Even with all their searching they still couldn’t find many of the missing pieces, they found scriptures that mentioned two children by the names of Dream and Nightmare, they felt a connection to the two but couldn’t figure out why. It didn’t help that most of the scriptures were faded or crumbled.

They tried to figure out as much as they could, maybe they were related? Then who were they? That’s when they realized they had no name, nothing to call themself. Until they found something, a painting of the sky, the galaxy. Talking about the symbolism between the sun and the moon and the connection to the twins, yet there was something else in the painting, a shining star that caught their attention, Sirius.

…Sirius

That would be their name.

Even if Sirius had figured out a name they still were lost, there wasn’t much to do after all. Just day in and day out of going to the village then back to the tree. However one day they felt like they weren’t alone, there was another’s presence.

Suddenly they would be face to face with another being, who they viewed as a threat, after all everyone who had come before had hurt them. Yet she held no fear to them, coming forward and introducing herself as Lanny, the Guardian of Magic.

She was sent to look after them after feeling their soul awaken, she would train them to be the new guardian. They had the last piece of Nim’s magic, the last apple keeping the balance of feelings, they couldn’t die. Even if they didn’t trust each other and Sirius was still a child, they needed to learn quickly.

Lanny had decided Sirius would stay in this world and she would come to train them. It didn’t seem like they would want to leave anyway, given their stubborness. It was easier to watch over them and she wouldn’t have to worry about them doing anything to the tree of magic.

The corruption was still resting within them so she was cautious, no matter how passive they were she never let her eye leave them every time she was there.

Lanny would visit them almost everyday to teach and train them. Providing them information of Nim, the tree, and the magic they now possessed.

Yet she didn’t explain everything to them, not yet.

Eventually they would be training to defend and fight for themself, having to be taught how to make the most of what they had. Their body was different, they could move very fluidly, like liquid. They also had wings however it would be a few years since they could be useful for anything. They were still too small to carry them currently.

Next they had to choose weapons of their own to work with, trying a large variety. They decided their main weapons would be a bow and a spear. The spear allowed swift movement for closer range and they were surprisingly naturally good at archery.

When they weren’t training on certain days they would try to figure out more about their past. The things Lanny wouldn’t tell them, but they’re not sure if she even knew the full story.

As they got older they started to remember more and more. Remembering moments of joy and ones of torture, but some memories seemed blocked from their view. They were all mixed up, sometimes they remembered things from different perspectives.

At first they just thought it was weird dreams till they started to piece everything together. Some memories they were Dream, others they were Nightmare. Then it finally clicked together, why didn’t they figure this out sooner?

They weren’t related to Dream and Nightmare, they were Dream and Nightmare.

Everything made sense now but it hurt so much more. They cried for the twins, sad, confused, and enraged. Now having to carry the burden of everything that happened to them, the torment, the lies, the pain.. everything.

It caused them to snap at Lanny for hiding such a thing, but she said it was for their own safety, they were still just a teenager. Even if she wasn’t the best mentor she wanted to try to help them with their pain when they were ready but it seemed fate had other plans.

She was already going through her own pain of losing Nim, someone she held so close to her, someone she had shared her whole life with. She had to push all her feelings down in order to train Sirius, but everything just spilled when the two fought. Like a cracked vase holding still water finally shattering.

Then they realized that they were both hurting and yelling at each other was useless. Sirius couldn’t forgive Lanny for hiding such a thing, the very explanation for their very existence, but they understood her. She had her reasons, but it still was very painful to find out.

After the fight Lanny hadn’t visited for days and Sirius was alone to process their memories and who they were. They had to come to terms with the truth.

The twins were gone, their mother was gone. They were so young and they already had blood on their hands, they killed the villagers. Though they felt no remorse for those cruel twisted people. Yet that just meant in the end they were all alone.

Alone to deal with the guilt they now felt for just existing. Their body was nothing more than a vessel, it couldn’t even be called their body, it wasn’t. Their only purpose here was to keep the balance, they didn’t even feel like a person.

Though in the silence of their loneliness they could hear whispers, the voices of the twins. Like they were speaking to them, they felt so close yet so far away, just out of grasp. Maybe it could be possible they weren’t so alone, even with the twins gone. Maybe, just maybe there were parts of the twins with them other than just their bodies and magic, something to help guild them.

They couldn’t give up, no, they would be weak if they surrendered themself like this. To give up just because of everything that happened, everything that created their own existence in the first place. There had to be a reason for them to be here or this would all be for nothing. They would keep going for the twins, for the two children whose lives were taken away from them too soon. They would live for them in spite of everything that happened.

They still had no choice but to be the new guardian however they would do it their own way. There would be nobody to push them around or try to control them like some puppet. They were free now, they were no longer trapped in a cage, forced to never fly.

They had their wings, they were finally free.

Still, they had to finish their training before they could even get to that point.. They weren’t exactly a real guardian yet..

When Lanny returned they had a long discussion, in the end both learned to come to terms with each other. They couldn’t blame each other for everything that happened, it wasn’t in anyone's control or anyone’s fault.

Sirius learned to accept that, it was all in the past now. Still it was going to be a long time before they could come to terms with their existence and the pieces of trauma passed down to them. They needed to learn how to cope but learning to accept the past was a start.

Right now they had to focus on the present, now that they completed their training it was time for them to help the balance become stable again. To help all the other worlds, to help those who were suffering like they once were. Help them escape this twisted game of fate.

It was time for them to become the new Guardian of Feelings..

[eccentricallygothic]

burnin' for you

Warning(s): Abo verse, Alpha!Ransom, Omega!You, fluff, allusions to smut and breeding kink. 

Okay, but a world where Omegas are adored and treated like the precious puppies that they are?

Your pack mainly consists of Alphas so you're one of the only babies. 

And you have never really liked the popular, rich, cocky and powerful Alpha Ransom? 

He's just not your cup of tea. 

However, that doesn't mean he has ever been mean to you to deserve it.

Or too mean, to put it more accurately. 

Not to be quirky or anything but you've never been one of those pushover Omegas that are all small and submissive just because that's how the moons fated it. 

You don't get the hype for Ransom within and even outside the pack. 

In your opinion, his cousins like Alpha Stevie, Alpha Curty, Alpha Ari, Alpha Lloyd, Alpha Petey, Alpha Jakey, Alpha Johnny, Alpha Frankie, Alpha Mikey and Alpha Cole are so much more cool and good looking. 

Alpha Andy and Alpha Robert are so hot too but they're way too scary for you to brat around in order to get their attention like you do with the rest of the pack.

Although, that is not to say that you throw yourself on the ones you find attractive or anything. 

But you get along with all of them and basically everyone, except for Ransom. 

So naturally, when it ‘dawns’ upon you on one fine full moon that he is your mate, your world is turned upside down. 

The superior wolf just grins down at you during the pack dinner while you pout, whine and stomp around before hiding yourself behind your mountain of a plate and in between Alphas Ari and Frankie. 

Ransom has always known about your dislike for him but even he is a bit taken aback by how you respond to the ‘realization’ after being questioned by Alpha Andy who is the Supreme Alpha which means everyone has to answer to him. 

“Why him?!” Curtis is amused at your protest and Steve shakes his head at your tone, having never been too fond of your brattiness. “Anyone but him!” 

Andy sighs and tries to explain the way it works and how fate knows best and works in mysterious ways and that it's no one's choice but must be obeyed. 

But much like yourself, you refuse and no one can force you to be with him because it is such a world, for once. 

You don't notice it but all of Ransom's fangirls that he used to have by his side all the time began to disappear.

He's more careful and serious around you, now always trying his level best to please you. 

But ugh, you just don't like him because Alphas like him have always cringed you out.

Well yeah, Alpha Johnny and Jakey are kinda the same so maybe you're a bit prejudiced when it comes to him.

You can't stand him okay!

But man. 

Everyone except for you notices the love-stricken way in which he looks at you, bright blue eyes filling with an unfamiliar warmth and replacing the usual playfulness whenever you come around. 

It's such an interesting inversion.

Because he's the one who follows you around during pack meetings and gatherings even though it's supposed to be the other way around. 

Like he's the puppy and you're the Alpha. 

You rarely take notice of it but he always gets things done for you. Whether they're school related, something to do with finances, or if you want to buy something, he's got it all covered. Your parents -as Omegas are considered too small to live by themselves- try to decline because you haven't even accepted him as an Alpha yet the man secretly transfers them hundreds and thousands of bucks so they can buy you whatever you want and you're too silly to put two and two together. 

The longing on his usually cheerful face is nearly depressing for his fellow Alphas on days when you dress up for an occasion and all he wants to do is to hold you and smother you in his scent and love. 

Run his hands all over your perfect body and feel the crevices, cuts and curves. Every bump and all the plumpness. 

You make his blood run hot like he's a developing Alpha in his teens. 

As if he's going through puberty all over again. 

Ransom has no idea if you will ever let him in but he's hopeful. There have been some rare cases throughout history where Omegas took a bit of time to warm up to their Alphas because at the end of the day your lot are slow babies that need their time to adjust to big changes. 

Until then, he will be patient and wait. 

Because when you finally become his -which all the Alphas assure him you surely will at some point-, he has so much love to overflow you with that it keeps him going for the time being. 

He has already bought for you two the perfect suburban house with a big garden so when you become heavy and swollen with his litter, you will have a refreshing environment to relax and walk around, definitely barefooted and clad in one of his oversized shirts.

. based on my own personal dislike of ransom hehe <3

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hi, just wanted to send this in! Headcanons for two characters of your choosing plus Chrollo about their reactions after their s/o’s death? Maybe like the grieving process. Bonus points if their death was caused in/directly by them 😈 angst angst angst

Hi, thank you for the ask! Ooh this is quite sad, I think I have two others that might be interesting to write for here

Chrollo, Feitan, Kurapika reactions to their s/o's death (inadvertently caused by them)

Chrollo

He had pushed you too far this time, telling you to go on the mission by yourself since you kept insisting you could do it. How foolish of him to let you go without thinking a certain chain user might be in the way. You hadn't returned after many hours. The mission shouldn't have taken that long, and the rest of the troupe was also agitated

The search started as soon as the sun began to rise. The troupe members scattered throughout the city to see if you were accidentally sleeping somewhere and forgot to come back. However, Chrollo stumbled upon your lifeless body in a rubbish dump. How fitting, you were from Meteor City, a junkyard.

"Y/n, are you sleeping?" He laughed, but as he kept calling out, you weren't responding. Touching your face, he felt his heart stop. You were cold. "Y/n," he breathed out. The sun's rays caress your face as if you were reached by the heavens. But this moment was nothing peaceful inside Chrollo's heart.

The troupe returned and saw Chrollo carrying you. The rest of them asked what had happened, he remained calm however. "We lost another it seems," he says quietly. Though he looks composed, the entire room fills with bloodlust that fades just as quickly as it came. He asks to be left alone and the rest of the spiders oblige.

Chrollo does not show his emotions to others, especially because as a leader he must be strong. But he breaks down, he had failed his role in keeping the spiders, no, you safe. Though revenge is something he wants, at the moment he wants nothing more than for you to hear his apologies of not keeping you safe

Feitan

He knew he was rough, that was why at first he didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone, especially someone outside of the troupe. You were just a regular person, you didn't know about anything related to the troupe nor nen, you were fragile. But maybe it was that fragility and that brightness that drew him to you.

This time however, you found out about his business with the troupe. You were upset at him hiding this fact from you, and this sparked a fight between the two of you. Feitan warned you to calm down, but it was really him that should have calmed down because the minute you threatened to let the officials know he quickly aimed his hand for your neck.

Had you been any other nen user or opponent he was used to, you would have survived and maybe had a sore throat for a few months. However, he punctured your neck, causing blood to spill and for you to splurt out a weak "Feitan" before slipping to your knees. Ater a split second he realized what he had just done.

"Y-y/n," it was the first time you had seen any emotion from him. It was fear. His eyes grew wide, he held you up, trying to keep you from falling. You tried tell him sorry, but blood kept spilling everywhere and your words were reduced to nonsense choking. Feitan kept telling you to shut up and that you had to stay alive.

It was an agonizing two minutes before you lost consciousness and eventually stopped breathing. Feitan stood up, not knowing what to do with your body. He was used to cleaning up corpses with what his job demanded, but this time he was lost. The next time the troupe saw him, he was a lot colder than usual. No one knew what had happened, other than that when Phinks asked where Feitan's lover was Feitan gave him a punch but his eyes held sadness more than anger

Kurapika

He shouldn't have prioritized his path of revenge over the lives of people he cared about. Sure, the Kurta seemed to call to him to avenge their deaths, but those that were living were also calling to him to not go down the path of destruction. He should've listened a little harder to those that were still with him in the physical world.

Being someone from Meteor City, someone that was close to the troupe didn't exactly translate to you being sympathetic to the spiders. But an argument got heated, and he lost control. You were trying to get him to stop his fight to hunt for the rest of the Kurta eyes and even the troupe but he thought you didn't understand his pain. Nen was involved soon enough.

Though you tried to fight him, he was skilled. Being Kurta made Kurapika much stronger too even in terms of sheer physical strength. He couldn't use Emperor Time on you, but that didn't stop him from using his chains in general. When you thought he was done with his chains, you rushed to restrain him from continuing his anger but he only grabbed for a nearby pen.

The anger blinded him from seeing what had just happened. The next thing he remembered after you told him that he should stop his revenge was that he had a pen in his hand that was stabbed into your chest. You were coughing violently, eyes wide and brimming with tears. You told him you were sorry and that you should've understood him better. Weakly, you reached up to his face, meeting his red eyes that soon faded back to brown. But you were too weak, your eyes closed and you slumped.

"No," Kurapika breathed out, "No no no no, y/n, y/n don't leave me," he shook you, holding you up and trying to get you to wake up. His actions took someone's life once again, another burden to shoulder. He knew his anger could be deadly, but never did he think it could kill you. How was he to forgive himself any longer when he was already feeling the anguish of his clan? Kurapika cried as he held you, repeating apologies and refusing to let go of you.